#there's fic going up tonight and tomorrow cause it's already written

[dellalalakang]

triple n: RIP kang della

masterlist | main masterlist

— lhs, pjs, sjy, psh —

well.......

contains: fivesome. really rough (choking, slapping, etc.), DELLA HAS AN IUD!!, della getting absolutely manhandled, her hands gets restrained for a bit, BUT THEN THERE IS A BIT OF DOM!DELLA ACTION, double penetration (as in anal), tiiiiiny bit of breeding kink, kitten as a nickname kink, daddy kink (sorry guys lol ik i said i wouldn't but i can't help it), i also said that they're never goofy during sex but we have the 02z in one session y'all— it's bound to get a little silly, LONGEST FIC I'VE WRITTEN (7.3k WORDS), longest + most detailed + most insane smut i've ever written omg i dont think i will EVER top this

happy belated anniversary my darlings 🤍 happy two years to della and her men (and alice) ✨

AND HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO ENHA'S (5/8) LOSS IN NNN! this chapter takes place on midnight 2022/11/11 (so i kinda thought that was today bcs dumbo self messed up the dates so i'm one day late but it's all good)

hi guys! i missed you! i will try to reply to asks soon! i'm so sorry for disappearing again, life has been rough and moving too fast 😭 DID NOT PROOFREAD BECAUSE I AM EMBARRASSED

Kang Della is going to die tonight.

While not literally, she was definitely going to be reborn as a new woman.

"Lala, stop praying. You're not actually gonna die," Sunoo said, more interested in his phone than his overreacting girlfriend. "You're gonna have so much fun, and we have the day off tomorrow. It'll be great."

"Sunoo shut up and help me pray," Della herself was already dressed, cleaned up and ready to head out.

But certainly not ready to meet the hyuppas.

"Why are we even praying when you're going to be doing something so sinful?"

There were three possible outcomes from tonight; One, the hyuppas being so annoyed that they prefer to ignore her for a bit. Though that is just her anxiety talking.

Two, they would take turns with her for four days straight. Which also means that she would have a limp and some back pain for a week or so.

Or three, they would all have their way with her, at the same time.

And the last option seems to be the most likely.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Oh, hi! Oppa! Really funny seeing you here but Sunghoon-oppa asked for beer, so here—" Jake immediately pulled Della into his room before she could escape from what was coming.

"You're in massive trouble, young lady," the girl would've laughed if the situation wasn't as serious. Who actually says that sentence in real life? Sim Jaeyun, apparently.

"Oh, wow! All the hyuppas are here!" Della laughed nervously. "Seems like you guys are preparing to have a celebration together! Wouldn't want boring 'ole Della making things all boring!" 

The stern look on all four men made Della withdraw into herself. She avoided eye contact by playing with her nails, mentally preparing herself for the scolding.

"Kang Della, sit down," Heeseung ordered, gesturing the couch with his eyebrows.

"Ah.. I really need to my room though, Yunji-unnie's waiting for me," Della hopes that she could somehow avoid the earful, though it is looking very improbable. "So I'm just here to hand over the beer and—" she gasped when Jay slowly took her hands and held them behind her back like a criminal.

"Do you know how hard it was to wait for you?" he said in a low tone. "The only reason why we did this stupid challenge was because of you."

Jay's deep voice caused Della's skin to erupt in goosebumps. She bit her lip as her heart started pumping faster. She tried to look into his eyes but quickly adverted her gaze when she saw how handsome he looked with his expression. She could feel herself getting wet again.

"The fucking audacity you had to lose to someone who wasn't even a part of this bullshit of a challenge," Sunghoon walked over and held her face with both hands. He noticed a familiar scent within the proximity. "You've been fucking drinking too. You did a lot with Sunoo, huh?" 

She had forgotten about the alcohol in her system, now understanding why her brain seems so hazy. She barely drank anything, but she is a major lightweight. The drink Sunoo gave her, mixed with the lack of sexual attention (and undeniably, Sunoo's seduction) must be why she lost the game so easily.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't plan it or anything. Honest!" she replied with puppy eyes. While the look stirred something inside Sunghoon, it certainly wasn't sympathy. 

"Even if you didn't plan it, you still did it, didn't you?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. "You can't really take it back now, can you?" he brushed her bangs back but kept his hold firm. "Even if it was silly little foreplay."

Everything Sunghoon did just made her core uncomfortably wet. She was embarrassed to clutch her legs tighter but her mind was just occupied with how stunning he looked and how hot his words were.

"No," Della whined, shamelessly staring at his lips. "I'm sorry, oppas."

"Do you know what's gonna happen now?" Sunghoon asked, staring at her lips as well.

"Am I getting punished?" Della bit her lip at the thought.

"You're gonna deal with us four, yeah? We've been stupidly waiting for over a week," Sunghoon caressed her cheeks before forcefully making her look at the two boys on the bed. "Look at them. We all deserve to be relieved from this challenge, hm?" he whispered in her ear.

"Nghh," Della whined at the sight of Jake and Heeseung. They were sitting on the joint bed with a can of beer in their hands. They were intently staring at the three of them, anticipating their next moves and patiently waiting for their turn. They knew that hard-dom Sunghoon would be the best at disciplining Della in bed, while romantic Jay would really show her just how serious they are.

"Do you think you can do that?" Sunghoon whispered again, causing Della to gulp and nod her head. "Use your words."

"I'm gonna deal with all four of you," she said timidly. She has never handled more than two people before, and now she's jumping straight to four.

But she is excited. Extremely excited.

"Good girl," Jay kept his hold with one hand, using the other to stroke her hair. "Your safe word today is red and yellow, okay? Regardless of Korean or English."

"Okay, oppa," Della closed her eyes at the gentle kiss Jay left on her hair. Suddenly all the nerves left and she's just left with pure anticipation.

"Good girl," although the words were identical to Jay's, Sunghoon's praise sounded rougher, more possessive. "Now come here."

Sunghoon connected his lips to hers hungrily while his hands moved to grope her bare breasts under her pyjama top. 

Jay let out a small smirk, his hands busily tying her wrists with the neck tie he prepared. His recently free hands then moved to unbutton her top, helping Sunghoon get easier access.

"You're not wearing a fucking bra. Sunoo must've enjoyed these babies, huh?" Jay said against her neck as his hands replaced Sunghoon's. The latter's opted to move down and roam his hands on Della's hourglass figure.

"Did he? Answer Jay," Sunghoon mumbled on her lips before shifting his kisses to her neck.

"No, he didn't," Della whimpered at the stimulation. Her legs were now almost crossed at how eager she is for some sort of sexual activity.

"Aish, that kid," Jay cursed, pulling away from Della to grab himself a beer. "Won 3N but didn't even fully enjoy it," he then pat Heeseung's shoulder and sat down beside Jake. "Tag. You're it."

Heeseung smirked, taking a big swig of his drink before making his way to Dehoon. With some liquid courage, he knew that they would all have a long, wild night ahead of them. They all definitely need a few cans because they desperately need this.

"You could've tagged me, y'know?" Jake pointed at his roommate.

"Shut up," Jay sipped his drink. "Just go over and join them– who's stopping you?"

"Nah, I'm actually enjoying the view," the younger laid back and rested his upper body weight on his forearm. The two watched as Sunghoon pulled away as soon as he noticed Heeseung.

"I told you to sit down, didn't I?" Heeseung practically mumbled, using his free hand to push her down onto the couch. "Why didn't you listen to me but obeyed Sunghoon and Jongseong?"

Della's mouth watered at the angle. If her instincts were correct, she was gonna suck someone off, most probably Heeseung. 

And she absolutely loves giving head.

Heeseung especially tends to let out these adorable sounds that are music to her ears. She knows that he will try to hold them back since they're not alone, but she is determined to have this gorgeous man let loose of his (almost) equally gorgeous noises.

"I'm sorry, oppa," the lower angle made Della's puppy eyes look even more cute. "I was just nervous."

"You know what those eyes do to me," Heeseung ran a thumb over her lip. "Should we forgive her, Sunghoon?" he sucked in a breath when she took his thumb into her mouth to suck gently.

"We'll see about that," a loud zipper sound filled the room as Sunghoon aggressively undid his pants. "Open up," and his cock was in front of Della's face in no time.

She did not need to be told twice. Her eyes instantly closed as her tongue swirled around the tip. She played around with it for a few seconds before pushing it all the way to the back of her throat.

"Fuckkk, I missed this," Sunghoon threw his head back. "So fucking good," he bit his lip harshly.

Upon the sight, Heeseung hurriedly lowered his sweatpants with one hand, but struggled to get his hard-on out from the tightness of his boxers. He eventually succeeded once Sunghoon helped by taking the beer out of his hands.

"Pay attention to hyung too," Sunghoon said and took a large gulp of the liquid. 

Della wasted no time in having Heeseung inside her mouth with her tongue swirling around the girth. She didn't care as her hair got everywhere.

"Thereee you go," Heeseung grunted, pushing the hair behind her shoulders and brushed her bangs back . "Ah fuck!" he bit his lip to try and contain his sounds.

"Ya– I meant divide your attention, not completely move on to him," Della gasped as Sunghoon pulled her hair so she could come back to him. "Back and forth, baby, you can do it."

It is definitely difficult. Della has never given head with her hands tied before, let alone with two dicks.

But if the boys know anything about their baby, they'll know that she is not a quitter; she will persist until she's absolutely certain she can't.

She bobbed her head two times on Sunghoon before switching back to Heeseung to repeat her movements, and doing the same to Sunghoon again. The perspective was so hot that Sunghoon's breath turned heavy and Heeseung's moans were audible again.

Jay and Jake, on the other hand, were getting a bit impatient because they could barely see anything. Sunghoon could almost sense it, and as he turned his head to look at his two best friends, he found Jake fiddling with his can while Jay tapped his hand in wait.

"Hyung, let's move to the bed," Sunghoon breathed out, pulling Della away from him and up from the sofa. Della whined at the loss but let herself be moved around like a doll. "Be fucking patient. You were willing to wait for a month, you can definitely handle a few seconds," Sunghoon slapped her lightly.

DellaTheMasochist only gave him an annoyed look with a bratty pout, making him slap her once more. 

"Oh you're gonna be a little brat, huh? I'll deal with you fucking later," he then carefully pushed her to Jay's arms, causing Della to smile in adoration. No matter how rough sex is with Sunghoon, he's still a huge softy.

"Well hello there," Jay caught her with one hand. "Were you being a bit bratty?" he asked while fixing her hair gently.

"No, never," Della shook her head innocently. Sunghoon grinned as he opened himself a can, sitting on the bed beside Heeseung. 

Her absolute brattiness only comes out to Sunghoon. She's an angel with Jay, putty with Jake, and a dominant with Heeseung.

"Of course not, you're our princess," Jay breathed down her neck and captured a nipple in his mouth. He blindly handed Jake his drink so he could use both hands to hug her waist. He spent a few minutes slowly enjoying her boobs, leaving hickeys all around the area. 

The three knew that Jay liked his intimacy, so they didn't interrupt.

He eventually laid her between himself and Jake, opting to just stroke her hair for now. Della was settling into a more comfortable position when Jay noticed that Jake's hands were now free from the cans he was holding. 

He gestured for the Aussie to begin, eliciting a grin from Jake before hovering above Della.

"Hi, baby," Jake whispered. His attractive face and accent left a small blush to her cheeks. "I missed you," he connected their lips together in a steamy kiss. 

The thing with Dake is that they don't always have a clear dominant in the bedroom. Most times it's Jake while others it's Della. What's crystal is that they are really passionate together. Practically straight out of an erotic movie.

"I'm still annoyed about Triple N but I miss you too much to fucking care right now," he ran his hands down from her sides, eventually tugging her shorts and panties down as far as he could. "Just wanna devour you."

He then proceeded to make his way down until he was off the bed with his face in between her legs. He completely got rid of her lower garments and took a deep breath, biting his lip before diving into her heat. One of his favourite things to do with her, and something that she desperately needed.

"Ah fuck!" Della threw her head back, pressing her thighs against his head. "Ahhh Jakey!" she whined. 

"Sensitive babyy," Jay cooed and held her face with his hand. "You almost gave this up for a month, you know?" he left small kisses all over her face.

"November's my birthday month, she ain't gonna give this up for the whole thirty," Jake pulled back slightly to comment. With his accent and slight mumbling, Jay could barely understand what he was saying. Della, however, understood perfectly.

"I told you that I would give you an exception, right?" Della's answer just connected the dots for Jay. Big mistake.

"You promised him an exception?" Jay halted his caresses to seriously ask. But Jake had resumed his mission, and Della is far too distracted to answer. "Fucking answer me– you gave him an exception?" he tightened his grip on her face.

"Y-yeah, for his birthday," Jay let out a scoff at her answer and humourlessly chuckled.

"I was gonna go easy on you and let these guys do their own thing," his voice turned rough, something he didn't think he would do tonight. "But you were gonna give Jake an exemption and that– pay attention," he slapped her lightly when she moaned to his face. 

"Sorry, oppa," Della whined, finding it difficult to concentrate when Jake's mouth was pleasuring her so well.

"It pisses me off," Jay whispered roughly. "Instead of just calling the challenge off, you were gonna make the three of us wait 'til the end," he smirked at how hard she was struggling to contain her sounds of pleasure. He let go of her roughly to sit up."Sorry man, I gotta take it from here," he pat Jake's shoulder. 

"Mmkay," Della moaned loudly when Jake gave out one last suck to her clit. "I call dibs on cleaning her off though," he smiled widely while licking his wet lips.

"Deal," Jay immediately flipped Della over onto her stomach. "Tsk tsk tsk, Lala..." he swiftly took his shorts and boxers off in one go. "Stay down," he firmly instructed as he removed her restrains.

The three boys couldn't stop the grin when they watched Jay unleash his beast. The Jay they've seen before was nowhere near as aggressive.

"Have fun, bro," Sunghoon hollered. "Have fun, princess," he toasted his beer at Della when she made eye contact.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" Jay whispered in her ear. He noticed the goosebumps that rose on her back as he was lifting her hips and parting her legs. "Hold on tight," he warned, handing her a pillow.

He bit the bottom of his sleeveless shirt just so he could get a clearer look of his shaft rubbing against her folds. 

"Aghh," both Della and Jay groaned when his full length entered her. "Fuckk!" after ten days, he knew he had to let Della adjust a little. Yet he also knew that she didn't need long based on how wet she is and how Sunoo had prepped her.

So not long after, he pulled back and thrusted into her. Hard.

"Ngghhh!" Della squeezed her eyes shut while tightly hugging the pillow. "Oppaaa!" she moaned loudly.

"God! I fucking missed this!" Jay grumbled out. The cloth was no longer in his mouth and he had his head thrown back. "Fuck!"

He kept his hands on her hips as he pounded into her. Slow, but powerful thrusts.

"Ahhh! Oppaaaa!" Della continued to moan loudly. "Oh my God!" she realised how noisy she was being, so she began to muffle her sounds into the pillow.

"Oh no you don't," Jay grunted. Instead of taking the pillow away from her, he decided to flip her onto her back. Essentially switching to the missionary position. "Oh hi there, sweetie," he smirked at her, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. "Hold on," he forcefully placed her hands on his shoulders before resuming his thrusts.

"Shit!" Della gasped, struggling to maintain eye contact with Jay as he continued to fuck her in the same manner. "Jay-oppaaa!" she practically screamed. Her nails starting holding on for dear life, scratching the skin of his biceps and her mouth was stuck open with nonstop moans.

The three other boys were turned on as hell.

Jake kept adjusting the bulge in his pants while Sunghoon and Heeseung had to constantly shift in their seats.

Waiting was especially hard for Heeseung as he barely got to touch Della in ten days. So he downed two cans and working on his third in no time, making him slightly tipsy and extremely impatient. 

And the sight of her mouth opening just reminded him of something.

"That's it," he crawled across to Jella's side of the bed. "Sunghoon said we were moving to the bed, so you're not done sucking me off," he sat on his knees beside Della's. "Sorry, Jongseong-ah," he breathed out and helped guide Della's mouth to his length.

"By all means, hyung," Jay pulled away and halted his movement to let Della find a comfortable position. "You better do your best. We know you can do it, baby," he whispered to Della, taking off his shirt as he waited.

"Shittt!" Heeseung moaned practically straight after Della's mouth wrapped around him. "There you go, baby– just like that," he assisted by thrusting so that all she had to do was just suck around him and pump what she can't.

"I'll start moving again," Jay began thrusting as soon as he alerted Heela. "Aghh," he grunted, furrowing his eyebrows together. The view of Della sucking someone off in front of him just made him want to fuck her even harder.

He needs to hear her moans even if they were muffled.

"Ahh! Lala!" Heeseung whined when Della kept moaning around him. "Just like that! Sooo good! Nghh!"

Since his mind was foggy from the alcohol, he didn't even bother to hold back on his moans. Even when they start to get a little too subby.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon and Jake wanted to join in so badly, but fear that they would overwhelm their baby. Though they can't just sit there and do nothing.

So they decided to devise a plan for when their turn comes.

"Have you... ever done anal?" Sunghoon awkwardly asked Jake after covering his dick with a pillow. "Like do it from the butt?"

"Me or Della?" Jake's question made the ice prince slap his arm.

"Della, of course," Sunghoon scolded.

"Ack! No– I just gotta make sure I understood what you meant," Jake explained. "No, we haven't."

"I have and I brought condoms and lube," Sunghoon pointed at his luggage. "So here's the thing... Della has been quite curious to try like.. two people.. like.." Sunghoon tried to find the words to explain it in a way that Jake would understand, knowing that the guy mostly knows English sexual terms.

"Like at the same time? Double?" Jake asked while bringing his hands up for gesture.

"Uh, double," Sunghoon nodded, instantly feeling awkward again. "Do you... wanna try it with me? It's her first time and maybe you can do the... back because you've never tried it before."

Jake was quick to make up his mind, all thanks to the two beers he had downed.

"Let's do it," he raised his hand to dap Sunghoon up. "Jellahoon, am I right?"

"Of course," Sunghoon grinned.

"Fuck! I can't cum already!" Heeseung grit his teeth and slowed down his hips. "Lalaaa," he whined.

It was then when Della finally pulled away from the blowjob. She looked into his eyes whilst her hand kept pumping his shaft.

"Heeseung, babyy. What did I tell you about holding back?" she forced herself to restrain her moans just so she could remind him who's in charge.

Fortunately, Jay, who was finding the exchange amusing (also wanting Della all to himself during his orgasm), had slowed down his thrusts to help her focus.

"To never do that because only bad boys hold back," Heeseung's rational thoughts went straight out the window. He was fully going to show his dongsaengs that Lee Heeseung is a sub. A major one. "But I'm not even inside you yet!"

"Come here, baby," Della got up from her position. "I'll be back," she placed a quick kiss on Jay's lips. 

"Go ahead," Jay was so intrigued at his hyung and girlfriend's new side that he didn't care about his delayed orgasm— as long as he gets it straight after Heeseung reaches his.

"Poor babyy," Della cooed at Heeseung, brushing his hair back. "Why don't you sit comfortably and let Lala do the work?"

The 02z watched in amazement as they discover how their hyung is actually like in bed. They watched him obey Della's instructions like clockwork, as if he's done this a million times.

He rested his back against the pillows with his legs ajar. His large bambi eyes were stuck on Della the whole time, looking absolutely lovestruck.

"Take off your shirt," Della pointed lazily, getting on top of his lap. "You're a good boy, right?" she connected their foreheads together and aligned him to her entrance. 

All Heeseung could do was nod enthusiastically.

"Then don't hold back," Della whispered before sliding down on his length. 

"Ahh!" both Heeseung and Della let out high-pitched moans. As Della bounced up and down, Heeseung's hands automatically went to wrap around her waist.

"Sh-shit!" Heeseung hugged her tighter while squeezing his eyes shut. Because he was already close earlier, it took no time for him to reach that point again. "Lalaaa!"

"Feel so good, Heeseung– ahhh!" when it comes to Heeseung, Della (most of the time) tries to compose herself. She's taking care of him after all.

"Shit– is that what it looks like when Della rides you?" Sunghoon asked under his breath. "That's fucking hot."

His hand then tried to secretly stimulate himself, making sure that neither Jake or Jay could notice. Jay, on the other hand, was openly pumping himself, not caring that his best friends could be looking.

"Damn, you're pretty big, bro," Jake suddenly blurted out at Jay. "Nice one."

"Thanks, I guess," Jay chuckled and kept moving his hand, not feeling awkward in the slightest.

"Why were you looking at his dick?" Sunghoon snickered, but that brought Jake's attention to him and that's when the latter noticed his sneaky hand.

"Why are you secretly jacking off? Just do it like Jay, no balls!" Jake slapped his calf. "We're literally in the middle of a fivesun—"

"Fivesome," Jay corrected him.

"Fivesome!"

"Ew, no! I feel so exposed! Like I'll be jerking off in front of you!" Sunghoon completely removed his hand from his dick. "And it's easy for you to say! You're still fully clothed!"

"It's not like we've never seen you naked bef–"

"02z, if you're not gonna suck each other off then shut the fuck up," Della interrupted their bickering while making eye contact. "Your hyung's trying to cum in peace."

"Yes ma'am," "Sorry," "Sorry," they all apologised quietly, hoping that no one notices their erection hardening even more. They hate admitting their thirst for Della's dominance. 

Or to be accurate; They love her dominance, yet hate admitting their desire to be like Heeseung.

But it's not like the 02z have never been docile to DommeDella. 

"Sunghoon, don't be fucking weird or I'll repeat last month's occurrences," Della's threat immediately made Sunghoon's skin erupt in goosebumps. He just hopes that she won't elaborate and reveal to his friends what exactly happened.

Thankfully, she didn't.

"Are you okay, baby?" Della went back and cooed to Heeseung, keeping her pace steady as she cradled his head.

"I'm gonna cuuuum," he sobbed. "Fuck! Lalaaa!"

"There you go. Don't hold back, Heeseung baby," Della mustered up all the energy she had to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhh! Lalaaa!" Heeseung used his tight hold to assist her bounces before ultimately letting out a loud gasp as he released spurts and spurts of warm cum. "Oh my God, babyy," he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

"Good boyy," Della halted her thrusts, caressing his hair lovingly. "Filling me up soo good," she placed tiny kisses on his head. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Lala," Heeseung breathed out. "Thank you," he pulled himself away to connect their lips.

They were stuck in a slow make-out session for a while before Jay grew impatient and pulled Della away from the older. 

"You didn't forget about me, did you?" Jay grumbled in her ear. "I gave you time to fuck hyung but now you forgot about us?" he lifted her up like she weighed nothing and placed her front facing down.

"You're being rude, Jay. Your hyung needed to—" Della cut herself off with a gasp when Jay landed a firm spank on her ass.

"You're not in control no more," he said in a low voice, lifting her waist up slightly. "Where are your manners?"

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered when he spread her pussy lips. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly pouring out of her. As always, he came a lot.

"Shitt– hyung," Jay called for Heeseung to see. The latter had pretty much sobered up from earlier and is back to his usual self.

And at least for now, he still had not realised what he had done in front of his dongsaengs. 

"Keep it in, baby," Heeseung took two of his fingers and pushed the cum back inside her, causing Della to gasp. "Add onto it, Jongseong," he patted Jay's bare shoulder with his clean hand before heading towards the bathroom.

"My pleasure," Jay whispered. He wrapped his arms around Della's body and instantly pushed himself inside her once again. "Fuckkk, Della."

"Yess! Oppaa!" Della squeezed her eyes shut, letting out babbles of words that barely made any sense. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly absorbing inside her as Jay fucked it deeper. The sounds of the moisture only turning on everyone in the room more.

"Fuck! You're gonna cum soon, aren't ya?" Jay's hard-but-slow pace tried to quicken when he felt Della tightening around him. "Just a little more, baby– Oppa's almost there, wait for me," he left kisses on the side of her face as he tried to concentrate on cumming together with his girl.

Fortunately for him, Della knows exactly what to do in this situation.

"Fill me up good, oppa. Make me feel so full," Jay had never verbally admitted it to her, but she knows that he has a breeding kink. "Stuff me full of—"

"FUUUUCK, I'm cumming!" Jay's left hand frantically went to search for Della's. "C'mere baby," while his right hand went to bring her face to his. 

They connected their lips together, essentially muffling their moans (and screams). Della used her free hand to hold onto his head, making the scene look even more sweet.

"I love you, Della," Jay mumbled against her lips.

"I love you, Jay," Della whined at the feeling of her own orgasm mixed with Jay's (and Heeseung's). "So, so much."

"So, so much," Jay left a final kiss on her forehead before getting off of her back. His eyes immediately went to her cum-filled entrance. "Good girl, keep it in," he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of barely any cum leaking out. 

He chuckled when Della wiggled her ass for fun. "How cute," he slapped her ass and stood up. "Agh fuck, you really milked me dry."

"Come on, it hasn't been THAT long, guys," Della rolled her eyes. "We didn't even last the whole month."

Just as she finished talking, a harsher slap was placed on her ass.

"You fuck four men on a daily basis– you still think you could've handled it?" Sunghoon asked, flipping Della onto her back. "Do I also need to remind that you were the one who gave in first? YOU?" he grabbed onto her leg to pull her closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him. "Don't make me teach you a lesson."

"Go easy on her, Sunghoon-ah. She's about to receive a handful with you and Jaeyun," Heeseung reminded. He grabbed Jay's and his cans of beer before joining Jay on the bed. The two were now dressed in their boxers.

"Yeah, just shut up and let's do our shit," Jake impatiently took off his pants but kept his shirt on, only removing his zip-up. "You've done anal, baby?" Della nodded her head in enthusiasm. "Yeah? And you like it?"

"Mhmm! Are we doing what I think we're doing?" Jake chuckled at her excitement. 

"You're adorable. Isn't it gonna hurt, baby?" the tips of Jake's fingers began grazing Della's thigh.

"I wanna be closer to my men," Della gave out a seductive look to both Jake and Sunghoon, making sure to use Korean so Sunghoon would understand.

"How cute," Sunghoon mumbled. "Don't forget your safe words," he ran a hand through Della's hair before laying down on the bed, legs still seated on the edge.

"Is she getting on top of you or me?" Jake asked his partner. "Isn't it more comfortable with you on top?"

"I mean... It's easier for me to thrust but it's more comfortable for her to hug me, no?" Sunghoon explained. "Won't it be unstable if she lays on her back?"

"No– Della should be on her stomach, on her back is difficult, I think," Heeseung pointed at the three.

"Are you doing double?" Jay's eyes widened when he realised what they were discussing. 

"Uh," Jakehoon replied briefly.

"Then Della should be on her stomach and the one who does the back thrusts from behi– on top," Jay gave his take.

"No– the reason why I say she should be on her back is because she needs to be distracted from the pain and Sunghoon would be able to thrust and properly do that," Jake tried to explain his take. "Otherwise his movements are limite—"

Their discussion was cut off by a loud groan from Della, followed by the girl hovering over Sunghoon chest-to-chest.

"Stop taking so fucking long and just fuck me," she wasted no more time and slipped Sunghoon's cock into her entrance.

"Oh my God!" "Oh fuck!" the two hissed at the sudden feeling. 

"Fucking finally!" Sunghoon threw his head back. "Come here, kitten," he repositioned Della a little so he could move more comfortably. 

Thanks to his long legs, all he needed to do so was to hold her in place.

"So fucking tight," he said with gritted teeth. He was never one to make a lot of noises in bed, but with his buddies around, he's determined to look cool. He was gonna try to contain his facial expressions, which is something he never holds back on.

Yet his plan went straight out the window when Della adorably cuddled into his chest. 

"Oppaaa," she whined.

"Aww, kitten– my princess," he cooed, bringing one of his hands to hug her close. "Does that feel good, kitten?"

Della could only mew louder and nuzzle her head more, making all four boys coo at the sight.

"This seems enough for you, baby. Do you really need more?" Jake went up to her face to tease while his lubed finger equally teased her back entrance.

Della looked into his eyes and said the one name that the two have kept a secret for a long time. 

"Please, daddy?" 

Jake halted for a second, taken aback at the sudden change of mind. He was not one to be shy about his kink, but Della was a bit apprehensive that the members just won't understand.

But weirdly enough, none of the boys reacted, as if they already knew of the fact.

"Sunghoon, stop moving for a second," Jake went back to his position and squeezed more lube onto Della's hole. "Stay relaxed, darling," he warned Della before pushing a finger in.

"Mmm," she closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"I'm right here, princess," Sunghoon whispered in her ear. "Relax some more," and immediately continued his movements.

"There ya go, good girl," Jake muttered, slowly twisting and pumping his finger. When Della was almost fully relaxed and resumed her previous moaning, Jake gradually added another finger in and followed by another once she adjusted to that as well. "Such a good girl."

"Ahh! I'm gonna cum!" Della announced, pushing her upper body up to catch a glimpse of what Jake's doing. "Fuck!" her eyes rolled back as she turned back to Sunghoon. "Oh my Goodness!" her moans only got louder when she looked at Sunghoon's facial expressions.

As always, his eyebrows were furrowed the whole time while he switched between biting/licking his lips, having his mouth open or gritting his teeth. He had completely forgotten about his initial plan of restraining himself.  

"Go cum, darling," he choked out, giving his last few hard thrusts after Della threw her head back and cried out. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief. If Della waited just a few seconds longer, he too would've been calling to cum and he did not want that just yet.

"Relax a bit, kitten," neither Sunghoon nor Jake pulled out, but they wanted to give Della time to catch her breath.

"What a good girl," Jay noticed Jake ripping open the condom wrapper and immediately sprung to action. "Taking four men so well," he continued to drop praises while caressing her hair.

"If it gets too much, please let us know and Jake can jerk off for the night or something," Heeseung also joined in with a joke.

"Hyung!" Jake whined. He somehow successfully got the condom on with just one hand, and is now lathering his length with the lube.

"Byee daddy" Jay added fuel to the fire by grinning and waving at him. 

"Shut the fuck up, Jay, I complimented you earlier," Jake sent a glare at his friend.

"The tension is insane. Now kiss," Della lifted her head to comment.

No matter how many times she has teased them, they have never expressed or voiced their discomfort, which she knows they aren't afraid to do. In Della's mind, this would imply that the possibility of it happening is not zero.

"Aish Lalaa!" "Eyy!" "Babe!" "Aghh" the four boys complained, with Jake adding an additional smack to her ass.

"You think his dick is big, right? You have my permission and sucking ONE dick does not make you ga—" 

"Okay, that's enough," Sunghoon spoke up and gave her one hard thrust. "Jake and I still need to cum, princess. Stop the yapping."

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered, bringing her head down to rest on Sunghoon's chest again.

"I'm only letting you off since you've been so good to us, understand? Don't test my patience," he said in a low voice, his hips starting to move in a steady pace once again.

"Understood," Della let out a high-pitched moan at the stimulus but was cut off with her own gasp as Jake pulled his fingers out.

"I'm putting it in," Jake breathed out. He squeezed some more lube on Della's rim before slowly entering. "FUCK!"

"Mmh!" Della had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to adjust to his size (especially with Sunghoon in her other hole).

"Our strong baby," "Such a good girl," Jay and Heeseung showered her in praises, using their hands to caress her arm and back while Sunghoon does so with her hair.

"Fuck– so fucking tight," Jake threw his head back when he was fully inside her. "Hang in there, baby, good job," he smoothed his hand over her ass.

"Yellow?" Heeseung asked about the safe word, just in case.

"Green," she quickly answered. "Can you move slowly, oppa?" her head shifted to make eye contact with Sunghoon.

"Of course, darling," he placed a kiss on her hair before slowly pumping her. "Shit, kitten," he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back.

Because of Jake, she felt tighter than usual but was still wet as ever. He knew he couldn't last long, especially after nearly cumming earlier.

"Jaeyun, please move," Della breathed out, starting to feel pleasure again.

Both Jake and Della let out a loud gasp at the sensation. The pace began to quicken in no time, making the scene look like it came straight out of an incognito site. 

"Oh my– fuuuuuuck!" Della moaned loudly, feeling fuller than she's ever felt. "Oppaaa! Daddyyyy!" little tears began pooling in the corner of her eyes. "Aaaaaaahhh!"

"So good, baby. Taking both of us so well," Jake leaned forward to mumble in her ear. "Shittt, so tight baby," his face held a large smile and left temporary hickies around her neck and shoulders. "My good girl."

There's no doubt that the back end is tighter, but Jake's favourite was really the sight of having two of her holes stuffed, and the fact that him and Sunghoon were the first ones to do that.

The three were so into each other that they didn't notice Heeseung getting up to retrieve Sunghoon's old, red iPhone. He knew that they would want the scene to be recorded— for their eyes only, of course.

"I'm recording," Heeseung announced before pressing record. They all turned to Heeseung for a second and resumed like nothing happened.

"Come here, kitten," Sunghoon grunted, pulling Della's face in for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth when she felt her two best friends quicken their pace. 

She noticed Jake tugging at her hair, so she broke the kiss off to then connect her lips with his, bringing a hand back to hold his head in place.

Jay, who did not want to just lay there beside them, started playing with Della's tits while palming himself. He personally doesn't need more, but he did not want the video to appear awkward. 

"You guys really look so fucking hot," Heeseung commented. He turned off the recording and went back to his original spot. "I wanna kiss, baby," his head got closer so Della could easily kiss him.

"FUCK! I'm cumming!" Della pulled away to scream out. Her eyes were closed shut and her open mouth spewed out loud whines after whine.

"Yesss, kitten," "Me too, baby, me too," Sunghoon threw his head back while Jake buried his face in her neck. It did not take the three long at all to reach their orgasm.

"Jay-oppaa," Della managed to let out, weakly stretching an arm out so he could come closer. "I haven't kissed you."

Jay felt his heart swell in adoration and he swiftly did as told without hesitation.

"Fuckk! Aaaahhh!" Della pulled away but kept their foreheads together and squeezed Heeseung's hand.

They looked absolutely ridiculous being in one big huddle (and it was certainly not the most comfortable), yet that was the moment when the five of them were just connected. It's what they needed and exactly what they hoped for tonight.

"I'm cumming, baby," Jake's voice was shaky, and his thrusts started faltering first. "Shit! Good girl, baby. Good girl, good girl!"

"Shit! Shit!" both Jake and Della came around the same time. The former usually takes his time to ride out his high but he almost instantly pulled out so Sunghoon could finish properly.

Sunghoon looked at him in thanks, immediately adjusting his position and hurriedly chased his orgasm. Della started shaking and screaming with overstimulation, letting go of Heejay to hold on tightly to Sunghoon.

"Shit! Ahh baby, almost ther– NOW KITTEN. NOW, now, now!" Sunghoon babbled a bit as his orgasm overtook his body. "Shit," he sighed and relaxed his body, still holding onto Della tightly. "You're amazing, princess. I love you," he chuckled breathily.

"I love you, my prince," Della breathed out with a smile.

The two shared a sweet kiss before Sunghoon pulled away and shifted Della over to Jake, who was now lying beside him.

"What a good girl.You're an absolute champ and you're incredible," Jake couldn't help but chuckle. "We're so fucking lucky, baby. I love you so much," he then connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

"I'M so lucky to have you guys and I just love you sooo much," once they pulled away, Della's head instantly went to rest on Jake's chest. "Let's clean up before we get too tired."

"Oh no you don't," Jake shifted their position so Della would lay on her back. He got on top of her with a mischievous grin on his face. 

"I called dibs on cleaning you off, remember?"

Eventually everyone washed up and got ready for bed. They decided to all sleep together on the makeshift king-sized bed with Della in the centre. They were cuddled closely, but it didn't really matter anymore to them.

"Guys, we're actually really cute," Heeseung giggled. "I fucking love this relationship."

"Just a bunch of bros with our girl" Jake sighed. He held Della tighter to his chest and shut his eyes, ready to sleep.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna call me a hoe," Della giggled, looking up at him. 

"I'm never gonna call you a hoe, babe! I'm not Sunghoon!" Jake's reply made Sunghoon smack his shoulder.

"I will never call her that!" Sunghoon looked at him with betrayal. "I don't even know what that means but I know it's bad!"

"You call her names in bed, we all know it!" Jake protested back.

"Ya– rarely ever, right princess? Only on certain times and we both have no issues with it," Della nodded at Sunghoon's defence. "See?! Don't kinkshame me, daddy."

"YAA!" Jake shaking Sunghoon's leg off of his own. 

"Today's session just revealed everyone's kinks," Jay laughed. "Sunghoon likes to call Della 'kitten', Jake likes to be called 'daddy', Della apparently likes anal," he stopped himself for saying Heeseung's out of respect.

"Pffftt, okay mister kinky. Didn't know you could go hard like that," Sunghoon grinned. "I thought you just liked vanilla but you were slapping Lala and everything."

"Why do you like to get slapped?" Jay ignored Sunghoon and asked the girl he was semi-holding.

"I don't know! Sometimes I just like things!" Della shrugged defensively. "I like a whole bunch of things!"

"Yeah and your boyfriends all like different things too," Sunghoon chuckled. "You're absolutely perfect for us."

"Awww," Della grinned but got shy and hid her face in Jake's chest. "I'm sorry for making you all join No Nut November. This was really dumb and I'm also really sorry for losing to someone who didn't even join."

"Don't worry about that, darling. It's all forgiven and practically forgo—" Jay's words were cut off by the boom of Heeseung's voice beside him.

"WAIT!" Heeseung shot up straight in realisation. Della and Jake both jumped in surprise while Sunghoon and Jay flinched. Heeseung looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

There was a reason why he was quiet the whole time. It's because it just hit him how;

"YOU GUYS FUCKING SAW ME IN MY WEAK STATE!"

i gotta be honest, i hate to be that person but i was feeling really insecure about my writing tbh. like the first draft was not hot AT ALL and i wanted this long awaited/overdue smut to make you guys all hot and bothered y'know? i think it's much better now and i'm feeling both proud and insecure but i hope you enjoyed it and happy anniversary! taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

[carolmunson]

perfect penmanship (steddie x reader)

Fill for this prompt: ‘What if reader accidentally found eddies book and saw all of the things he wants to do to her and planned for her when steve was gone for that weekend. She would be on edge every time he was near her and she would get a funny feeling in her tummy anytime he so much looked at her. Eddie probably takes notice and does little things to get her reaction.’ This is an Eddie focused fic with some Steve cause I’m in my Harrington era and takes place the summer before Good Cop x Bad Cop (why am I creating lore???). I took some liberties on this. And also gave our reader a little bit of back story on how she met Steve. Sorry for the wait here, things are kind of all over the place while I get ready to leave for a job. This incredibly long one shot is also a little all over the place, but WHO CARES. I’m tired! Anyway, hope you love it. You can tell I started this fic while I was watching 'The Bear’. warnings: f!reader, MEAN!EDDIE, jealous!eddie, angst, sweet angel steve harrington who is always nice, mentions of a lot of different kinks including kn*feplay and p*ss (but not written out), smacking with a ruler, D/s dyanmics, use of 'daddy’ in sexual context, use of 'master’ in sexual context, p in v sex, degredation, humiliation, smoking, all that jazz oh yeah and if you’re under 18 don’t read my content.

Summer, Hawkins, 1990 

Eddie kept himself busy in the kitchen, if there was something he was good at outside of music, it was cooking. Now that Steve was on vacation he could put in a little more effort now that he was just cooking for two.

It was 90 degrees, hot and steamy in the kitchen with pans and pots going on the stove and the oven cranked. Eddie shook a sauté pan, sizzling aromatics, his back muscles outlined by a heather grey t-shirt drenched in sweat. He had his hair tied up on itself in a bun at the nape of his neck. His bangs still fluffing in his eyes, other stray hairs sticking to his face. His cheeks blushed red from the heat outside and the flames on burners. 

You walked into the kitchen, looking much less frazzled since you’d spent all day in the air-conditioning upstairs. You wore an old Camp Hawkins t-shirt from when you were a kid. The kind of camp shirt that would be too big for your whole life, that got softer with every wash. You pulled open the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke, letting the chill flow over you, shutting your eyes.

“Hey, hey, close that. I have dough in there,” he called over his shoulder, “Can you grab me the red wine on the counter, sweet thing? It should be open already.”

You look over at him lazily and offer a bored reply, “Yes, chef.” 

You put your can on the table, shutting the fridge door lightly (even though you wanted to slam it). The bottle clinked as you pulled it by the neck off the counter, he reached back for it without turning around – pouring the contents into the pan that flared with a quick flame. 

“Careful,” you chided, he looked over his shoulder and winked. 

“Will you go put this in the recycling?” he asked, now quickly stirring with one hand, the bottle outstretched to you in the other. You plucked it from him by the base. 

“Yes, chef,” you said with a smile, washing the bottle out in the sink that was already starting to over flow with mixing bowls and other kitchen ware. This morning it was cakes, tonight it was duck, tomorrow you were sure he’d want to smoke a whole pig. You gently dropped the bottle into the glass recycling (Eddie was very serious about separating cans and bottles) with a little ‘clang!’, going back into the kitchen to grab your abandoned Coke can on the table. 

“Can you also go grab one of the big box fans out of me and Steve’s room and bring it down here? I’m sweating buckets, baby,” he said, turning half way at his waist. You blushed as his shirt lifted – the tattoos on his hips peeking out from the tops of his jeans, the bottom ridge of his defined oblique being brushed by the gray fabric – it drove you wild. 

“Yes, chef,” you said, walking out of the kitchen. 

“Hey,” he said, you turned your head, your brows raising to silently ask ‘hm?’

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he gushed, his boyish grin breaking across his face. 

“Thank you, chef,” you grinned back, hurrying up the stairs to grab the fan. You sighed as you got in the room, the fan resting on a splay of books and comics on top of the low makeshift book case Eddie made from an upright shelving unit. The other one was clamped down in the window to let fresh air in. From the looks of it, Eddie had left both of them on last night, letting it them all day – Steve was gonna throw a fit when they got the electric bill this month. 

As you go to turn the nob on the fan, it falls on the floor, splaying the books everywhere – papers fanning themselves out across the room.  “Shit, shit!” you say to yourself, turning it off and putting it up right, unplugging it from the wall behind the bookcase. You turned around, hurrying to pick up and re-organize the books on the ground. Even if Eddie wouldn’t totally care, you didn’t want to get anything reported back to Steve that wasn’t absolutely glowing. In your efforts, you came across a composition notebook – clearly getting plenty of use, tucked neatly part way under the couch. 

The cover was crudely scrawled on in penmanship that could only be Eddie’s:  'Crime :)  &  Punishment >:(’

You huffed a laugh, and opened the cover, but instead of finding Eddie’s diary, you found the beginnings of a list of things Eddie wanted – from and to do to you:

Tie her up and keep her in the bedroom for free use whenever we want for a few nights, maybe after she’s too handsy on a date or something. (Steve loves this.)

Tie her up the next time I make us dinner and put her on the center of the table and eat her. eat her out. (Update: this went great and she came six times like a fucking whore, fell asleep before she could even try the eclairs I made which was kind of annoying)

She asked for the 'Dungeon Master’ when she came to drop off my dice at Hellfire and I would kill a kid just for her to call me Master in the house on her knees

Slave Leia costume????? (Steve said he won’t be Jabba, I think he’d be great)

Get leather cuffs, the steel ones hurt her even though she won’t say they do.

Bathroom denial? Am I into piss???? Or do I just like to watch her cry and get embarrassed? Might be into piss or watching her piss herself. Steve said no :(

Start ashing my cigs in her mouth when she talks back to me or cusses. Put my cigs out on her thighs. note ^^ Steve said be careful not to trigger her asthma :( but otherwise okay

fake kidnap her when she’s getting out of work and put her in the trunk and fuck her in the woods like a worthless whore. measured steve’s trunk and she wont fit and she’ll know its my van if we use my van :( ^^ update: Steve said no. :(

Make her hold a quarter or a nickel (ridge side) to the wall with the tip of her nose and use the leather strap every time she drops it. (Steve wants to do this ASAP!!!!!)

More rice kneeling, MORE RICE KNEELING

fuck her in those little skirt suits she wear to work fuck her in her skirt suits BEFORE work and mess up her hair and makeup and make her go to work like a used fucking slut after she gets out of line

need more soap for when she runs that stupid pretty mouth

kind of wanna piss in her mouth??? maybe in the shower or something

wanna dress her up as arwen

anal training (update: steve said he doesn’t think she’s ready but what the fuck does he know)

ren faire date, she’d be such a cute bar wench (not inviting steve)

saw her play with my switchblade the other day, why did it make me hard?

do you think she’s start letting me bring knife play into punishments? steve said that’s an accident waiting to happen

“Babe, I need that fan!” you heard him call from the kitchen. Your heart raced, some of these were scary. “Coming!” you called back, quickly tossing the notebook into your desk drawer in the man-cave they commandeered. You grabbed the fan and hurried down stairs, a little out of breath.

“Sorry, chef,” you smiled, “I knocked over some books and I wanted to put them back nicely.”

“That’s thoughtful,” he said, not turning around yet.

“Did I hear something come out of your mouth upstairs that I shouldn’t have?” he asked, stepping away from the oven and leaning against the counter. He tapped a cigarette out of his American Spirit box and held it in his lips, looking at you.

Your heart raced, he was gonna ash in your mouth. Holy fuck he was gonna do this cause Steve wasn’t home. He was gonna– “Baby, answer me,” he said, a huff of impatience slid on his words while he took a drag of his cigarette, “Too hot to wait for you to figure it out.”

“Yeah, but I was just startled,” you said, rounding your eyes into his favorite look, “It won’t happen again.” His heart melted when he looked at you like that, all flushed and nervous. He went to the sink, reaching under the cabinet first and your breath hitched as he pulled out some liquid hand soap.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” he hummed, rinsing and then washing his hands in the sink. You tried to make your heart rate slow down. “Everything’s just simmering down here sweet thing, so I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, peeling his t-shirt off to reveal his tattooed chest. His jeans hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers slipping with the slick of his sweat – your mouth filled with spit. You wished he’d bend you over the counter and fuck you right there. “You wanna come with me?” he asked.

’kind of wanna piss in her mouth??? maybe in the shower or something’

“Um! No thank you,” you said, “Plus, Steve said he’d call and I wanted to make sure that–” Ring, ring. Ring, ring. “I’ll take it in your room,” you said, bounding up the stairs past him and closing the door behind you. You eagerly picked up the phone.

“Hi, Harrington residence,” you said with a perfect, clean voice. “Well if it isn’t the prettiest girl I know,” Steve said on the other end of the line. You swooned at the sound of his voice.

“Hi Stevie,” he could hear your smile through the phone, “How’s it going over there?”

“Well my dad got a sunburn so we’ll get to listen to him complain about it for the next three days,” he grumbled, “How are things at home, where’s Ed?”

“He’s in the shower, he’s making us dinner tonight,” you answered.

“Well, that’s sweet.”

“Yeah…I guess. I miss you, though,” you mumbled, fumbling open your desk drawer and taking out Eddie’s notebook.

“I miss you too, babe,” he said, his voice soft and needy, “Spent my whole time here so far thinkin’ about our date night. The boat’s not the same without you. -ugh- Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her. My dad says hi, by the way, if you can’t hear him from over my shoulder.“

Your heart swelled at the memory of his little ‘last day’ stunt before he left for vacation. He made a big show of taking you out shopping the night before, making sure you had a new dress for where he was taking you the before he left. He loved when you got all dolled up for him, but you weren’t his plaything those couple of days. You were you, like you used to be — like old times.

He brought you into town for a nice dinner, like a nice one. The kind of restaurant Eddie wouldn’t be allowed into at a glance. You shared a bottle of wine, you got dessert, he kissed you on the street while you waited for a cab to take you home. And home?

Home was heavenly. The first time in ages he didn’t just bend you over and take you. The first time in a while he said your name while he pushed into you. He held you close and desperately on his lap while you rocked on top of him – it was slow and sensual. He never wanted you to forget it. "Hi, Mr. Harrington,” you called through the phone, “I don’t know if he asked, but could you let your dad know I got all the filing done yesterday. So I just have to go through his messages tomorrow and make some calls.”

“Don’t talk business with me, honey, I’m on vacation,” he whined. It was the only time Steve got grumbly in a boyish way, when you talked about work. It’s how he met you, at a holiday party at his dad’s firm, Mr. Harrington’s fresh new secretary. He didn’t know whether to love you for looking so professional and precious at your desk, or hate you for his dad trusting you more than he ever trusted Steve.

A few months into dating Steve wanted to impress you by bring you to the lake house. He got it together for that weekend and took you out on his daddy’s boat every day because you liked being out on the water. He’d melt every time you’d call him 'Sailor Stevie’ and giggle. But things were different now, and that was okay. You’d make it back to the lake house eventually.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “Do you have anything fun planned for later? Are they doing fireworks or anything?” “I don’t know, I have to man the grill – wish Ed would fit in with my parents so he could cook instead. We have some family friends coming over so, you know, same old as every summer. Rich people talking about how rich they are,” he said.

“Steve you’re one of the rich people at the party talking about how rich they are,” you teased.

“Baby, I work at Family Video,” he grumbled. “You’re a manager at Family Video,” you corrected, “And you know your dad is proud of you for that. He said that after another year of this you could apply to the fi–” “I’m not working for my fucking dad,” he said shortly.

“Okay, okay,” you soothed, “I’m sorry.” “S'fine, I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, his voice getting a little husky. You couldn’t hear anymore shuffling behind him in the background, everyone must’ve gone outside, “You bein’ a good girl for me at home?”

Your body tingled, your chest feeling heavy, slickness immediately forming between your legs at the question. He could hear you get breathless, a little chuckle comes out of him, “Honey, I asked you a question, are you being good for me?”

The dominance creeping into his voice made you shiver. The shower was still going in the bathroom, it couldn’t hurt if you just…

“Yes, I’m being such a good girl,” you confessed, your hand sneaking past the waist band of your cotton shorts and slipping between your legs. Offering yourself slow and lazy circles over your panties – you didn’t want him to find out you were doing anything you’re not supposed to. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, “I’ll be home sooner than you think, pretty girl. I’ll take you out again, just us.”

“Just us?” you smiled, a blush forming on your cheeks. You pulled your underwear to the side, the cool air from the fan in the window shocking your body against the slickness. You let a finger glide over your opening up to your clit, stifling a huff of pleasure so Steve wouldn’t catch on. “Yeah, I wanted to take you to the new place dow–” Dial tone. You frowned, your hand snaking out of your panties, “Steve? You there?” “Steve?” you said again, turning around towards the door only to see Eddie standing over your desk. His fingers pressing down hard on the receiver. “You havin’ fun in here?” he asked. Your body went to ice. Even with a towel around his waist, dripping form the shower, he looked menacing.

“No,” you quickly responded, straightening up in the chair. “You know I don’t take kindly to being lied to, sweet thing,” he said, taking the phone from you and hanging it up, “If you were feeling a little pent up, you could’ve just asked. But now that you had to go break the rules…” Guilt swirled in your chest, knowing how this looked to him. Not only were you breaking a pretty hard rule, but it was for Steve. Ed had been seething the whole time Stevie had you out on his arm, while he took you to dinner, while he made love to you in the bed you shared. “C'mon, get up,” he said.

“But I was on the phone,” you said, “Steve was telling me something and he’s gonna think I hung up on him.” “I don’t give a fuck that Steve is gonna think you hung up on him,” he hissed, “Get. Up.”

You did what you were told, following him to the bedroom, asked to kneel at his feet while he got changed. He shook out his hair, showering you in little water droplets that smelled like the shampoo you bought him. “Stay,” he commanded, going back into the other room. You hear something rustle and then, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He stomped back in with the notebook in his hand, “Does this belong to you?” “No, sir,” you said in a soft low voice. “So what is it doing on your desk?” he asked, “I know I didn’t put it there. Did you read it?” Tears welled in your eyes, you nodded, “Y-yes. Just one page, I promise.” Eddie sighed, tapping the corner of the book on the top of the dresser, “You’re really outdoing yourself, here.” “I’m s-s-sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t cry,” he glowered. A phrase he usually said when he was wrapping you up in his arms after a spanking from Steve, but this was harsh and bitter – biting. “Since this whole thing is about self control, try it out,” he said, “Don’t fucking cry.” You sniffed, your eyes wide at the demand. You took a deep shuddering breath to try to self regulate. “That’s better,” he chided. He pulled you up for your kneeling position and brought you downstairs back into the hot kitchen. “Not in herrrreee,” you whined, “It’s too hot.” He roughly sat you down at the kitchen table, “I still have to finish making dinner for you, in case for you forgot what I’ve been doing all day.” Your heart sunk, you were ruining his whole big gesture – which was honestly Eddie’s favorite thing to do. Always one for theatrics. He slapped the notebook down in front of you and swiped through a few pages, leaning over you like your dad did when he was helping you with homework. “Let’s see…” he mumbled to himself, “Since I’m busy, it needs to keep you busy.” “There we go,” he said, pointing to a bullet on the list, “Read it out loud to me.” “You don’t have to keep admitting you don’t know how to read, Ed,” you smirked.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and yanked it back, “Don’t get cute with me. Do you want me to call Steve and have him come back here?”

You shook your head no and he let go of your hair, pointing back down to the bullet point on the list. “Have her write 40 lines with her right hand, supervised, use a ruler on her hands the moment her composition isn’t perfect. Make her start over every time. Put all the bad composition on the fridge to remind her how worthless she is,” you read out loud, your voice getting smaller and smaller with each word. “But I’m left handed,” you said to him. “Are you stupid? We know that,” he asked, his face annoyed and quizzical, “That’s why you have to use your right hand. It’s like Catholic school.”

You whined and huffed, the heat starting to get to you. The fan on the counter just blowing more hot air around. He pulled a wide wooden ruler out of the junk drawer and a pen, slamming them down on the table in front of you. He turned closer to the end of the notebook to a clean page and smoothed it out. “Since I have more shit to do, you only have to do ten, go,” he said, back in his position over you. They always had you write 'I will learn self control,’ when it came to touching yourself without asking, so you didn’t need the clarification. The pen felt wrong and uncomfortable in your right hand, you fumbled when you saw Eddie pick up the ruler. “Maybe it’s the heat, or because you’re ruining dinner, or because I don’t really like sharing my toys very often,” he said through gritted teeth, “But I can’t wait for you to fuck up.”

A tear spilled out of your eye at the fear of knowing it was gonna hurt when he got use out of that ruler. You put the pen to the paper, trying to smoothly write 'I’, but it came out more diagonal than anything. CRACK! The sound of the ruler on your knuckles made you jumped before the stinging pain bloomed. “OUCH!” you yelped, “That hurts, Ed.” “It’s. Supposed. To hurt,” he said, another crack of the ruler after every pause in his sentence, “Or else you don’t learn anything.” You looked up at him again, your eyes round and swimming with tears, “What if I was just really sorry? I’m so sorry Ed, you don’t have to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you,” he said, “And I told you not to fuckin’ cry.” Your knuckles were already welting, “And what do you say after we punish you?” he asked. “Th-thank you,” you whispered. He ripped the paper out so a fresh one was in front of you.

“Start over,” he hissed. His jaw was tight while he watched you, eyes dark and brooding. He wasn’t just mad, you could tell he was hurt about something. You did start over, again, and again, and again. He barely spoke, just whacked that ruler down with vigor every time your hand merely slid wrong. Your knuckles were starting to break at the skin, little droplets of blood started peeking through the creases. “I said, perfect penmanship,” he growled after the seventh attempt, “What about that do you not understand?” “It’s h-hard after you hit my h-hands,” you responded, still doing your best to keep your tears in. “We’re gonna be here all night, aren’t we? Can’t even do this simple thing,” he grumbled, sighing and turning the heat down on the oven. He grabbed the oven mitts on the counter and took out the duck, letting it rest on a trivet over by the sink. You felt your nose burn at how stupid he made you feel. “You know I put in all this effort for you and you just like, you don’t even care,” he muttered, not really expecting you to hear him. “Hm?” you started, “Whad'you mean? Of course I care.”

The dominance in his stance was faltering, he leaned against the counter and looked at you, “I’ve been trying to keep you happy this whole week, and you’re still so hung up on Steve. It’s like I’m not even here unless you need to be put in your place.” “Ed–” you started. “And I get it, you were his girl first and you’re Daddy’s precious princess but, you’re my girl, too y'know?” he said, “I wanna take you out, I wanna get you a new dress…” “You can still do those things, we can do those things,” you said, finishing up your fourth line on the new page.

“Just forget it, stay focused,” he said while he came back to lean over you and watch, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his bandana. “You’re making me nervous,” you said, “It’s easier when you don’t watch me…” “Do you talk this much when you do lines for Daddy?” he asked, “Shut up, and write.” You flinched at his harshness, scared and sad about him, “Yes, Master.” “Hm?” you caught the blush burn his cheeks, a bashful grin peeking out from his hardened look, “What was that?” “Yes, Master,” you repeated, focusing your eyes on your lines but smirking at your own cleverness. “Baby, you can’t go around saying that to me when I’m supposed to be mad at you,” he mumbled, standing upright and pushing his hair out of his face. The heat of the kitchen had mostly dried it and he tied it back up in a bun at the base of his neck. His bangs were still puffy and wild against his face. You surveyed him, seeing the bulge growing in his jeans. “Can’t we do something else, sir?” you grinned, “I know how to make you not mad at me. I promise I learned my lesson.” You got on your knees in front of him, reaching for his belt. “I just wanna make you happy,” you really laid it on thick, undoing his belt with a clink and unzipping his jeans. He didn’t stop you from taking his cock out, still a little overwhelmed from his new nickname. “Fuck, kitten, you’re supposed to be in trouble,” he said, leaning back on his hands on the bar cart behind him. You let your hand glide with his skin, soft and silky, still smelling like his body wash and clean laundry. He peered down at you, catching your beaten knuckles as you stroked him, and pouted. He stopped your hand, taking it in his gently and pulled you up for your knees. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked, he was never one to pass up on a blowjob.

“No, no,” he said, he leaned in to kiss you, wet and aggressive. “Juss really needa fuck you right now,” he mumbled, kissing and biting at your neck. He pulled your shorts and underwear off with one fell swoop, hoisting you onto the kitchen table. You let out a squeal that turned into a deep moan while he pushed into you. His ringed hand hoisted up your leg to give him more access while he gripped your hip hard with the other, driving into you at a steady pace. Your breaths hitched at every thrust, he was hitting every spot just right. Your mouth hung open at his rhythm, sweat building on both of you. “It’s gotta be quick baby,” he said, panting, “I have to strain the au jus.” You whined into his quickened pace, feeling yourself get close. “M’ gonna…oh fuck, Ed,” you groaned, digging your nails into his shoulder, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” “Cum for me princess, come on,” he muttered in your ear, tilting you back a little, letting his thumb slip over your clit. That soft sensation did it for you, sending you yowling in the center of the kitchen with the curtains open. Eddie pulled out, sending hot wet seed all over your Camp Hawkins shirt – luckily missing the table as a whole. You both caught your breath, and you slid off the table. “That was, wow,” you said, “Wow.” “Yeah,” he breathed, “Yeah.” Eddie shook his head, getting himself back together. “Are you okay?” he asked, while you put your short back on. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said. He came over and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, lifting your hand and kissed right above your aching knuckles. “We’ll put some ice on it, okay?” he said, “You did so good for me.” You blushed, “I’m gonna change first.” “Can you do two more things for me?” he asked. “Yes.” “Can you clean this table, and then clean yourself up nice and pretty for dinner? It should be all ready when you’re done.” “Yes, chef,” you smiled, walking into the pantry to get your supplies. The phone started to ring and you paused, looking at the phone on the wall and then at Eddie. “You gonna get that? It’s probably Steve,” he said, turning his back to you and reaching for the sauce pans. “No,” you said, at the pantry door, “I’ll just call him tomorrow.” While you didn’t see it, Eddie flushed, his heart racing. His girl, at least for the week, just his girl.

[martianbugsbunny]

Baby While You're At It (A Cherik Fic)

Well my dears I am now laughing at my past self and calling them a bloody fool bc they swore up and down they were not going to get involved with writing Cherik, not with so many other ships/fics already languishing in WIP hell, but it's happened. I've written my first Cherik fic and I'm no longer annoyed at the idea that it might not be my last.

I was listening to a Jessie Murph song and I was like "Hm, this kinda gives Cherik" and I picked the bits I thought were the most Cherik and used those as inspiration for the fic. Definitely favored loyalty to the characters over the song, don't worry! I would recommend giving it a listen because I absotutely-lutely love it, but first I would recommend reading the fic because it turned out splendid and I adore it. Read on and enjoy!

Two weeks, was that all it had been? Charles stared at the calendar, wishing it would tell him it was all a mistake and they were launching for Cuba tomorrow; that he had dreamed up everything that had happened since then—but he knew each one of those fourteen days really had passed because he had counted each of them. Day One without Erik. Day Two without Erik. Day Five. Day Nine.

Day Fourteen.

He felt as though he had aged ten years in that short span of time. Beneath his eyes were dark, bruise-colored circles, as though his body was beating him up for how little he slept.

How could he sleep, when every time he closed his eyes he was back on the beach? He could feel the grit of the sand beneath his head as he fell, then the stiff material of…gloves, as he was lifted halfway up and cradled within the confines of strong arms. The scent of the salt air; the taste of fear; the compressing of his lungs as he realized who was responsible for the pain in his spine and the even worse lurching of his heart as he realized that same person was going to cause him worse pain yet.

Charles exhaled, his breath still shaking as though he were lying in agony on the sand, and went to join Hank in the kitchen for breakfast.

Hank, a strong contrast to Charles’ often dark mood, seemed happier than usual. He handed Charles the carton of orange juice and slid a small vial across the table with it. “I’ve developed a sort of antiserum,” he said. “To the one I made from Mystique’s DNA. It allows me to control my mutation.”

Oh, yes. That was the other difference: Hank was also a lot less blue than usual. “It’s a very interesting formula, I thought you might want to know,” Hank said.

Charles picked up the glass tube and shook it idly. The fluid inside looked unremarkable, but if it could manipulate Hank’s genetic code, interesting was an understatement.

Hank glanced at him warily, then set down his spoon and folded his hands. “I’m supposed to remind you we’re having a sort of welcoming party for the soon-to-be teachers? Tonight?”

Charles leaned back in his chair, sighing. He liked a lot of the people who had signed on to help with the school, but the ghost of…the past was following him around so closely he barely had room for his own shadow, much less a houseful of guests.

But he wasn’t going to cancel. Hank deserved to have time with his friends, and Charles could always disappear and leave them to their fun if he needed to. “We’ve got enough food?”

“Plenty.”

“Alright then, just—make sure nobody breaks anything.” He had seen what it was like when young mutants got together before, and he didn’t particularly want his house to end up like their former CIA facility had.

Charles managed to get through the rest of the day without too much trouble; he didn’t retreat to his study for booze as he often found himself doing, and he went outside for a while to get some fresh air. Maybe having friends around wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Maybe they could push those ghosts away.

Alex Summers was the first to show up; he brought with him a smile that lit up the corners of the house. He had changed a lot since Charles had first recruited him, going from definitively bitter to being brilliant and full of life.

Charles shook the thought away that he had had a nearly opposite transition.

Another half hour later the future teachers had all arrived. Charles noticed the way Alex’s bright smile changed into something infinitely softer when Sean Cassidy arrived, and felt a brief stab of that horrible bitterness when Sean went to greet Alex first, their embrace a lingering one that left the entire room giving each other knowing glances.

Charles was just about fed up already and he hadn’t even said hello to everyone yet. He cast a pleading look at Hank: How much longer do I have to stay? It was, after all, his school, his idea, that had gathered all of these people together, and detached as he felt from the rest of them he didn’t want to make enemies of them.

Hank crossed the room and sat down on the sofa, next to which Charles had parked his wheelchair. “Fifteen minutes,” he said quietly, squeezing Charles’ hand. He understood, to the extent that anyone could, because he had spent the intervening weeks between Cuba and now at Charles’ side.

“Fifteen and I’m out,” Charles answered tersely. Hank gave him a sympathetic smile and then went back across the room to get something to eat.

Fourteen minutes later the front door opened again, eerily silent, and the room went still. Alex moved to stand more-or-less in front of Sean, who gripped his wrist reassuringly.

Charles bit back a curse when Erik Lehnsherr walked through the door. It closed behind him, swinging noiselessly on its metal hinges. Erik’s eyes lighted on Charles instantly, and an emotion started filling Charles’ chest that felt like the sting of bile in the throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice clipped.

“I came to see you.” Erik glanced around the room—it was definitely hostile. Hank had reverted into his blue form. “Perhaps we could move to somewhere less public?”

“You’ll shoot me in the back in front of these people but you won’t speak to me while they’re present?” Charles could hear the hysteria bubbling up in his voice and felt powerless to stop it. Every beat of his heart as it limped on screamed Erik—Erik—Erik and yet he was furious with the man. Furious at being wounded, furious at being left, furious most of all that Erik’s heart was probably pounding stronger than ever without Charles chasing two steps behind. He had some nerve to show up uninvited with that handsome half-smile so typical of him and just expect that Charles would chase after him again.

….Mostly because he was absolutely right. Charles would never be able to resist the pull of that grin; it drew him to Erik as magnetism drew metal to him, irresistibly and almost inevitably leading to disaster, even while Charles felt a blue-hot searing fury with himself for crumbling so easily.

“Fine,” he spat. “You all go on with your party. I will be back soon.”

He had longed to escape just moments ago and yet he dreaded the loss of backup as he led Erik into the kitchen, several hallways removed from the living room where the others were no doubt starting to whisper about why Magneto was here.

Charles stopped his chair next to the table, turning it to face Erik. “What do you want?” he asked.

Erik wasn’t foolish enough to sit down. Their conversation was far from being that casual. “I wanted to see you,” he said. “To—to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh, now you want me to be alright? Now? After everything you did to me?” There was that hysterical sound again. This time, Charles tried to bite it back—it and the tears that were building in his eyes.

“It was Moira’s fault,” Erik said. “Imagine being stupid enough to shoot at a man who can control metal.”

“You certainly had no problem controlling that bullet into my spine,” Charles said.

Erik stepped back as though Charles had physically slapped him in the face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It had been Erik’s strong, gentle, desperate arms that had cradled him after the accident, Charles reminded himself. It was an accident, after all, no matter how much Charles wanted to place blame on a single person and push that person away to alleviate his grief. Erik had caused him pain, but he had also held him, eyes devastated, hands straining with rage.

“And yet you always do,” Charles said. “I left that beach less than I was before. Not because of the injury, but because I had to leave without you.”

Erik said nothing, staring at Charles expressionlessly.

He couldn’t help laughing now, one hand going up to brush his hair roughly back from his face. “Why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest while you’re at it? It would be easier to handle than knowing that it wasn’t love you felt for me. What was it, pity? Contempt?”

Finally Erik moved again, kneeling in front of Charles and covering one of Charles’ hands with his own. “I loved you then and I love you still,” he said, his voice hushed but more intense than Charles had heard him except in the heat of battle, or a fit of temper. “Why do you think I came all this way?”

Charles let the gathered tears fall, only for Erik to brush them away. “I regret little that I’ve done in my life,” Erik said. “It’s all been for a reason, a cause. But hurting you, no matter that it was an accident…that I do regret. Every night I hear your cries, see your tears, and it’s been eating at me.”

“No matter how bad you have it, I’ve got it worse,” Charles said, the break in his voice betraying his attempt at coldness. “You think the memories you left me with after that beach haven’t been gnawing on me like maggots on so much rotting meat?” There was more Charles wanted to say, but he stopped. “You’re not wearing your helmet,” he realized. He reached over and ran his fingers through Erik’s hair. It was longer already than it had been two weeks ago. “Why—?”

“I wasn’t sure you would believe me,” Erik said. “If I’d the worn the helmet, you would’ve said…”

“I would’ve said you were a liar,” Charles finished. “Because it’s easier to love a liar who’s laughing behind your back than to love someone who loves you back, if he’s hurt you.”

Erik nodded. This time, Charles caught the flicker of remorse in his eyes, deep-seated and powerful. “You know what, Erik? I don’t expect you stay with me. You’re too set in your convictions for that. But we’re done hurting each other—I want better than that for us.”

“Charles, I swore the moment I held you in my arms on that beach that I would never harm you again.” Erik’s eyes were as serious as they were only when he was talking about the mutant cause. It wasn’t about Erik’s intentions, though; Charles had meant it as a promise, as a forgiveness, as a bandage for the barbed-wire words he had already pushed into Erik’s heart.

“And no, I won’t stay, but I’m not leaving you,” Erik said. That, too, was a promise. An apology. “My heart and soul are with yours, wherever I go.”

True to his word, Erik didn’t stay. That night was all they had. This time, it was Charles who held Erik in his arms, Erik’s head pillowed on his chest, one hand curled around Erik’s jaw so Charles could feel the pulse in his neck. Erik slept, and peacefully; Charles didn’t.

There would be time for that later. He wouldn’t have Erik to have and to hold forever, and he didn’t want to waste a moment, but he didn’t begrudge Erik what he knew was one of few truly restful sleeps in his entire life.

Early the next morning, Charles sat on the porch, watching the dawn light up the sky in pale shades of lavender and pink over the still-dewy lawn. In the trees, birds were already singing, and a spider was busy in its web on a bush next to the railing.

It didn’t hurt so much to watch Erik go, his cape rippling like water behind him as he walked down the driveway, with the warmth of his kiss goodbye still lingering in Charles’ heart and on his cheek.

[makahimetenshi]

Follow me inside the wastelands - Chapter 13  -Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor Fanfic

This one will be a long fic with a lot of chapters, I already write the concepts. Since I don’t play as Nora in Fallout 4 because Nate for me is the real protagonist the personalities and ideas are pretty fanbased from another fanfics I read

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and coments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive coments of wanting to know what happends next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

By night Arthur came back and the first thing he did was surprise her with a chap kiss on the cheek, Nora looked at him confused but he had a very bright smile on his face.

-I prepared a feast for us tonight, when they knock at the door hide in my room until i tell u okay?

-Feast? what are we celebrating?

-Your plan is going smooth, i had the confirmation from Preston that the men arrived at place and the supplies are on their way -Nora smiled a bit and show him a sketch of how the fencing should go in the map around the beaches -did you go there?

-Not yet, tomorrow ill arrive for the first time

-Be careful to fight the mierluks during the day, if theres fog cancel the operation and try another day, remember that mierluk queens love fog to hide, use the day to settle in the buildings but do not start combat -he nodded and hug her from behind, looking at the letters written on a side of the table.

-Why you don't use holotapes?

-Im used to have my pipboy but not everybody has one, terminals are not always powered and i been told i have a very special calligraphy

-You are using something that’s called italics

-Correct

-Not many knows how to read that, but i must admit is like a signature writing of you right now 

-Macready had his reasons to act like that, why do you wanna go down there?

-Don’t you believe me capable?

-I didnt say that, is just that you have the paladins to act on your orders

-Does Preston or this mercenary knows anything about us?

-Not exactly, i didnt explain much

-I believe that if you make me close to you in their eyes, they will trust me more -Nora turned her head to look at him, that was certainly unexpected.

-Do you want to have a relationship with the minutemen?

-We kinda often work together thanks to you

-I believe you can justify that they were people and citizens of the Commonwealth the Brotherhood of Steel was helping

-Yes but this level of organization is going beyond of simple farmers organized, your group grow up good and we are getting involved often

-And you want to be around?

-I can be, despite whenever i want to do it or not, if im needed ill be there, you in the middle or not -he didn't want to tell her the real reason, that he prefer to be there to not put her on risk because that will surely cause a fight.

-I trust you to come back sane and sound -she said and give him a chap kiss on the cheek, surprising him who hugged her stronger

If she cameback for him, he will do it too despite how dangerous the situation turned out tomorrow.

There was a knock on the door, and both separated, she went to the room and Arthur recieved the people who went inside to settle the dinner.

The only thing that Nora will eat as homemade food were soups, stating that the only way she can eat non radiated made in this century food was blinfolded, since everything looked awful and non desirable. Arthur hated that, he hated not being able to make her live more comfortable, it wasn't a good life not being able to eat

-You know i'm asking recipes to the scribes so i can give directions to the cookers right? you are making it very hard

-One time i ended up eating human meat -a cold shiver run through Arthur spine at hearing that -have you ever seen bacon before? well it looked like it, tasted good, crispy, no radiation, find out later that it was human, i didn't have the courage to eat anything again in that place, but did not have the forces to keep moving after not doing it for three days. Well at least i know iguanas existed back in my days

Arthur shut his damn mouth, if she find out about the geckos she would die of starvation...

-Do you dare to explain me why the mercenary had such...

-Weird attitudes? -he nodded, eating his bramin meat, cutting it into pieces- he is not really a minutemen, he is a mercenary hired by me, right now he is at Sanctuary with his son Duncan

-That doesnt say much

-I saved Duncan lifes by finding the cure to his mole rat disease, we wenttrought  a lot to find that medicine and he bring up the kid here after he was cured and safe to travel -she take sip on her soup

-So he is in debt with you

-And hit on me once if you are actually asking that yes -the man pressed his lips and puush the attention away eating his steak- but i dodged it, i was into someone else by that time, a long way has passed since

Huh a hint of Noras love life, that was unexpected, but if she said that was a long time ago so he didn’t mind.

Her gaze turned dark and she sip onto her Nuka-Cola. She was into someonelse, almost two years ago, before destroying the institute.

And she was sleeping with his killer.

No, she was the killer, the one that execute him.

-Is something wrong? -Nora snapped at soon she was approatched, she shake her head and pick up the salt to use it over her food. 

-No, i just chew something weird and was trying to figure out what it was

He knew she was lying, it was common for him finding her zooning out, she had a lot of demons inside.

-If you are giving him a house and food, he should be more respectful -he said drinking some Nuka-Cola too

-Leave him, he is almost as young as you are and have a thought life

-Thats not excuse

-He doesn't own me loyalty, he is a mercenary, ill respect that boundary, end of the story -and by finishing that conversation, she keep eating her soup

Altought Arthur understand that she wasn’t commanding soldiers with training and a mindset to fulfill orders, he was worried that her relationships were so...volatile. Still, great job organizing civilians at least, she standed up the most it was possible with revels and starving people and they achieved great things, recognized her strength and how ferocious she was.

After the dinner and plates were out, the man came into the room with...some expectations actually, and they were well readed, Nora flipped him onto the bed and she sat over his pants, unbuttoning the dress he had now forbidden to touch since the last time he went to exited break some buttons. It was a long way down and he cant keep his hands still on place, so they were moving all up on down over her ass, loving the shape and the feel under his fingers.

-Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, general -gosh he wanted to say that all day, he wished to be ridded and commanded by this strong woman. He did it with her before, now it was his turn to summit.

She laughed and hummed, the buttons were all open but she still covered her chest closing it around

-There will be a tomorrow, but you gotta fight for the reward -out of nothing, she step onto her knees and moved foward, Arthurs heart stopped when she as bold as always sat  her crotch over his chin, he saw her lick her lips and smile, still covering her chest, his arms and shoulders covered by the skirt of the dress- over heat and undress me, win the view, come on

He gasped and say nothing, just grabbed her ass to bring her closer and manage her weight on his face, starting to lick and suck over the warm pantys making her moan. It was going to be hard to not rip them off.

Arthur moaned when she grab him by the hair to move his head and command him over her pussy to move in whatever way she wished more.

The next day, Arthur leave for battle, and Nora felt absolutely horrible about it, she can't have any update, any notice, ask anybody, hack some terminal, check on some radio because she was imprisoned in...Arthurs quarters which didn’t have much. She wanted to cry, full of worries for his well being.

She get it, it wasn’t necessary to punish her like this, she get the feeling Arthur had when she leaved.

But at night the man came back, stepping in his power armor without his helmet, surprising her, well this was weird to see, he almost never used that thing and he smelled...fishing...

-Sentinel -he stated, making chills all over Nora skin, he knew he didn’t have to sentinel her for nothing that she will take it seriously- im taking a shower and then i want you undressed in bed, im being clear?

-Yes elder...-she said actually confused, the man came out from his power armor and smiled at her lightly before closing the door of the bathroom

Nora put on a bath and underwear at least, she was confused, stranged, she didnt need this mystery, but when he came out the door she ran to hug him. He was dressing light and comfy, and didn’t have any injuries at first sight, less if they were going to have sex tonight.

-Sentinel -he said again, making Nora chew her tongue, what the hell does he wanted? -i thought i ask you to wait in bed

-Are you alright? did everything went well? i was so worried...-his hands went to unbuckle the lace of the bath, making her cheeks red and taking out a gasp of surprise, she looked at his face and he was just smiling, chill, relaxed, holding his temple, one of her legs raised slightly but she didn't find a boner in his pants.

-I also told to wait for me undressed...-this was no time to play Nora wanted to know things and...

His hands went to cup his cheeks, taking her thoughts elsewhere clearing her mind in blank at making her stare into his blue eyes, then he slowly walked pushing her, making her walk backwards until her calves touch the edges of bed, he guided her body by the shoulders to sit on it, still holding their gazes. One of his hands went to her mouth, making his fingers play with her lips, hipnotized by how the flesh moved under his tips.

-Arthur how are you...-he shuuuuuuush her, thing that Nora didnt like at all and he noticed, laughing in the insides, but still went forward and move a finger inside her mouth, making her suck it at least the tip while their eyes were holding.

-Since i take the lead of the mission and succeeded- her ears open up but she was annoyed that hell make this report a sexual play -ill take the lead here too...

-Yes...elder -as soon she said that his finger went deeper in her mouth, only half way, and her tongue worked around it. Still, eyes locked with each other.

-You were right about the mireluk queens, the worst thing aren't her acid spit  but that bitches puushes hard back, the only way to break her legs was throwing mines under her -Nora look around his body, but he didn't look hurted or anything

-Did the elder fight alone? -she mumbles and then he pushed his finger deeper, Nora could see the growing boner on his pants, this was really erotic for both, as confused and lost she was before now her panties were all wet.

-I didn’t say you could ask questions...Sentinel -he whisper as the other hand moved some locks of hair behind her ear, making a nice caress over her cheek, she started sucking on his finger and he hummed, like laughing- I was all about destroying the eggs but Preston interfere and said that we can cook with them, i didn’t know that, it has a lot of lipids inside, something you usually dont expect from a fish but there it is

-Did you install over the police station or...-a second finger went all the way down her mouth, surprising her.

-Oh my the sentinel is impatient to know the news...-he laughed a bit and grabbed the other side of her head with his fingers, using the short hairs as rides to move her head like he wanted, still, slowly to not hurt or scare her, by now Nora should understand his game.

-I just want to know if my dearest elder need some help or...-his fingers left her mouth and he moved her head harsh against his stomach, Nora almost automatically used her fingers to move down his pants and underwear, releasing his length, now it was just right there on her face.

-Your dearest elder...-he said using both hands to cup her head, fingers getting tangled between her black locks, caressing her ears and neck while she melted down on how nice it feeled to be managed like that- exploded and fill with bullets every motherfucker that came across his way

-Good to know...-a moan left her lips when he pushed her head back, she was before at a side of his cock and now she was in front of it, Arthur moved her carefully in circles, playing, making her wish and desire, scratching the back of her head making her purr and get lost on her thoughts again.

-Your elder claimed that land for you -at hearing that she look up surprised again, a hand left her ears and went to jack himself, making that gorgeous wet sounds that make Nora burn in the insides

God she didn’t know were to move, react, what to do with her damn life. She wanted to look or suck it but also wanted to pay attention to his words

-Is it done? 

-Undress, Sentinel -as soon he said that, Nora take down the bath off her shoulders, of course she was wearing his favorite black lingerie- tomorrow we will shoot some other motherfuckers as we start fencing the place -one of his eyebrows reacted at the feeling of masturbating himself, making Nora aware of it nononoono she should be the one pleasuring the elder Maxson…

-Arthur i wanna blow you...-the way her eyes were filled with lust and admiration break him apart, he look at her body in black underwear, groaning at the view of the his perfect pre-war black widow fantasy wife

-I gave the orders today, and tomorrow, and ill give all the orders i need to also claim you -she nodded down her head, her breath was changing in rhythm and he could see it in the way her breast moved up and down- you are going to obey Sentinel

-Only to you elder- thats it, he cant hold it any longer, both hands pick up her head on the sides, filling between her legs with expectation

-Suck me -in the moment he said that his breath stopped for a second, but she didnt hesitate in use her hands to hold him and swallow him entirely in her mouth

He will claim her all it was needed to remind her she was the elders perfect woman, if it werent for the damn contraceptives he was sure that this two weeks alone in his quarters were more a mating season than imprisonment for bad behavior. A very primitive and crazy part of his brain wished  everytime they were together for her to end up pregnant with his seed, a child, his Maxson heir, their baby.

He craved for it.

  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14242575/13/Follow-me-inside-the-wastelands

[all1e23]

Let Go [One-Shot]

Pairings:  Bucky  x Reader 

Warnings: Smutty smut. 18+. Be cool kids. 

A/N:  Surprise I actually wrote something. I am in fact not dead. I wrote this months ago and I’m finally posting it, but here ya go. My terribly written smut for all to enjoy. un’beta’d cause I’m too lazy to care tbh. I am no longer doing taglists. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though!***

You've been in an awful mood all day. Everything was setting you on edge and it had everything to do with your boyfriend turning your seemingly good mood from this morning sour and you couldn't shake your frustration. Bucky left with Sam four weeks ago for some mission that was supposed to be a quick in and out. One of those ‘home in a few days’ missions. It dragged out much longer than that as all missions did. A month later Bucky was finally home, sneaking in late last night and slipping into bed after you fell asleep. You were elated when you woke to your boyfriend kissing you and whispering in your ear that he was home and missed you something terrible. He was out of bed before your alarm went off claiming he had to go debrief with Sam. You knew that meant he came home before he was supposed to. As sweet as it was, he was still gone before the sun came up after being gone for a month and it was entirely unfair. Your frustration only grew with every hour that passed with his absence.  

So much so that by the time Bucky got home you were aching to fight and he knew it the second you spoke. The sharp edge your tongue held, the short answers you gave him and the way you slammed the fridge looking for the wine you set on the counter only a few moments before. Even your walk was angry. Usually light in your movements, your steps were heavy and your hips didn’t have their usual relaxed sway. Bucky watched the way your fingers gripped the stem of the green tinted wine glass in your hand and he wondered how many you broke over the last months. He wasn’t going to ask. At least not tonight. He didn't say anything at first. Simply watched you as you walked around the six hundred square feet apartment you share. 

By the fourth time you snapped at him Bucky stopped what he was doing and came to find you in the kitchen, glaring at the fridge as if it had personally attacked you in some way. He stared at you for several long and torturous breaths, fully taking you in and then he nodded made some decision. He jerked his head back towards your bedroom, his voice soft and low when he finally spoke, “Why don't you come talk to me for a minute.”

“What?” You snapped. “What do you mean come talk to you?” 

What did he think you were doing right then?  

“You're in a bad mood. Frustrated with somethin' and I’m guessin’ you need to let go,” he explained gently, pressing himself against your hip and you realized right away what he meant. Talk didn't mean talk. Without question, you wanted what the release he was suggesting, but that would sour your sour mood and the dark cloud hanging over you wasn't ready to let go, despite how much you liked feeling his soft lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“That doesn't always fix my bad mood,” you countered.  

Bucky raised a brow and tilted his head to the side, looking slightly amused by your brush off. You've been together long enough that he knew you very well, so the idea that he couldn't read you well enough now to know what you needed was laughable. He wasn't going to laugh as much as he wanted to. He didn't want to hurt your feelings when they were already vulnerable and he also wanted to live to see tomorrow. 

“Not always but most of the time. More times than not.”

You huffed and shook your head. It wasn't that he was wrong. You were frustrated. It was a terrible day. Sometimes (most of the time) you needed some help letting go of your frustration and it almost always helped to ease your tension. You were still too cranky to let Bucky help you and Bucky knew that the second you didn't respond. so, he let it drop. If it wasn't going to help he wasn't going to push you. He wanted to help, not make you feel worse by pressuring you to do something you didn't want to do. "What do you want to do for dinner? We can order pizza? Pasta? Whatever you want, baby doll.”

“Pasta?” You repeated with the faintest smile and Bucky only hummed in conformation. You weren’t stupid.  You knew what he was doing. Dangling warmth and comfort in front of your eyes until you caved and gave into him, allowing him to bring you out of the darkened hole you were burying yourself in. Whatever he could do to make you feel better, he was going to do it. He had a look on his face that said there was a suspicion he was partly at fault.  You fought to keep your frown but your cheeks hurt from the force it took to stop your smile. 

“Come on,” you said abruptly. Bucky held the fridge open, staring at you with uncertainty in his eyes. You turned towards your bedroom and waved for him to follow you. “Come on,” you repeated again. 

Bucky was slow to follow. You heard him kick his boots off and creak of the bathroom door as he moved through your apartment. You felt him before you realized he had made it into the bedroom. The heat coming off him was burning your now naked back and the cool touch of his left hand on your hip made you shudder, instinctively leaning back into him. 

There were no words between you. You both said enough already. He brushed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade and he urged you towards the bed in front of you. With his hand pressed into the center of your back, he pushed you forward until your cheek pressed against the cool teal blanket covering your bed. There was a brief squeeze to your hips before you felt his lips pressing a kiss to the small of your back. It was a gentle, soft reassurance that he had you and was going to make sure you were taken care of. 

A cool rush of air came over you and you knew he was no longer standing behind you, but your confirmation came when the bed dipped behind you. You pressed yourself back against him and Bucky chuckled, “Impatient. Can’t I take a second to enjoy the view?” You didn’t answer and Bucky didn’t expect you to. He knew you well enough to know when you were in the mood to play, to be silly in the midst of all the heat and that wasn’t your headspace tonight. Bucky understood that better than anyone. He had nights like this, too. 

You glanced back just in time to see him giving himself a few lazy jerks and your mouth watered at the sight. There was something about watching as he stroked himself, the veins in his forearm and his bicep flexing just enough to tense. It left you dripping every time and in this position, Bucky could see exactly what it did to you. Your gaze flicked up and you knew Bucky had caught you drooling by the sinful smirk and sparkle in his eyes. He winked and you couldn’t stop your grin, turning your head you buried your face in your sheets. He didn’t need to see the embarrassment on your face, nor did he need to see the way your mouth fell open when he pushed into you without warning. Your hands gripped the sheets in front of you and pulled them taut. 

A low, throaty moan left him as he filled you, inch by inch, until you felt the front of his thighs pressed against you. Three breaths. Bucky gave you three long breaths. A moment to collect yourself. He waited until you raised your head and wiggled your hips. Bucky bent down to kiss right below your ear, his right hand pressing into your shoulder blades and he let go. Pinned to the bed and helpless under his hold, all you could do was hold on. 

This wasn’t one of those times when Bucky was gentle, easing into you and bringing you to the edge over and over before he finally gave you the release you’ve been begging for. You loved when he took his time drawing out every whimper, but you also loved this. There was no need to label it as anything other than a quick fuck. A desperate need for each other as you chased your highs together. The only sounds filling the room were your moans and Bucky’s heavy pants as his hips slapped against you. It wasn’t going to take much for either of you. You haven’t felt his hands on you in a month and after how tightly you’ve been wound all day, you were ready to fall apart. You could feel the tension you’ve carried all day finally break as you came hard around him, every inch of you trembling when you felt Bucky still behind you. 

You peeked back over your shoulder to catch the sight of him, jaw slack and brows furrowed as he came back down. He looked beautiful like that and you told him so, earning a teasing smirk in return. His red cheeks held your attention more than the cheeky grin because under all snark and brooding, he was soft and a little shy. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed, burying your face in your pillow. Bucky was only gone for a few minutes before you felt him curling up behind you in bed, snaking arms around you and whispering in your ear that he ordered pizza and pasta because he wasn’t sure which you wanted more. You couldn’t help but grin and rolled over in his arms, burying your face in his chest and humming happily when he kissed the top of your head. 

Bucky ran his fingers down your back and sighed heavily, a hint of anxious energy spilling into his words, “You okay?” 

“Mmm, yeah,” you replied in a soft whisper, shifting in his arms enough that you could press a kiss to his chest. After moments like that, he needed reassurance that he didn’t cross a line and you were still okay. “I don't know. It was one of those days. I guess I needed to let out some tension.”

Bucky gripped your chin and forced your head up from his chest so he could look in your eyes. "Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again. “I don't want you to not talk to me when you're upset and think that I want to solve our problems with sex-" you kissed him before he could continue, smiling softly as you pulled away. The fact that he was worried you would think that made your heart ache in the best fucking way. 

"I don’t think that. It wasn't really anything. A bad day and I guess I missed you more than I realized while you were gone. Sam needs to learn to share," you pouted playfully but Bucky's loud chuckle made you grin.

"I'll tell him you said so. What if I take some time off and we go away for a few weeks?" 

Your eyes widened dramatically and Bucky playfully ran his right hand over your face to wipe the look of shock off your face. You giggled and pulled his hand away, kissing his palm and placing it on your chest, “A few weeks? What about Sam though? You can't leave him hanging and what about the city? What if someone needs you?”

Bucky snorted in response to your unnecessary panic. As if he was the only superhero in New York. It was almost laughable to think that the city needed him more than he needed you. “There are probably twenty enhanced individuals, at least, in this city at all times. I think it can get by without me for a couple of weeks.” 

“If you’re sure, Buck,” You hesitated. Your doubt must have been easy to read because Bucky pulled you close and bumped your noses together until you laughed making him grin that sappy grin he reserved for you and you alone. With your foreheads pressed together he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and hummed contently, “I’ve never been more sure, Y/n. Sides, I put you second long enough. Steve got to be selfish, it's my turn.”

[onegayastronaut]

Quiet Nights (Kate Bishop x Reader)

I was going to write this as a bratty Kate fic but it turned out to be Kate being a puppy and going 🥺🥺🥺

Dating Kate was one of the best things that had happened to you in recent memory, but it wasn’t without its pitfalls. One of them was constantly worrying about her safety when she was out with Clint doing whatever it was they do when they’re together. You know that Clint would do his best to take care of Kate, but you also know that your idiot girlfriend tends to take risks that, were more often than not, unnecessary.

Biting your nails, you turned and tried to get back to your essay only to realize that you had written only half a page in the last two hours. You groaned as you closed your laptop and rested your head back on the couch. Lucky raised his head and put his paw on your lap, as if sensing your frustration. It was a useless exercise trying to get work done without Kate’s warmth by your side. You were tempted to text Yelena to come and hang out, but you knew she would spend the next few hours going around your apartment making fun of you.

A knock on your window jerked you out of your gloomy thoughts, and your mood immediately brightened when you saw Kate crouching outside. Apparently, she had stopped by your favorite take out place on the way home, and had climbed up through the fire escape instead of using the elevator like a regular person. Opening the window, you jokingly looked around while saying, “And who is this stranger, knocking at my window so late at night?”

“I know I’m a little late, but I got you your favorite food.” Kate gave you the pout that she knew would work on you no matter what, and you let her in. She kept the bag out of Lucky’s reach as she went over to pet him. After she was done, you went to hug her but noticed her flinch when you did.

“Babe? What happened?”

“Nothing! I just had a little run in with this guy on the street when I was out with Clint, it’s really nothing. You should see the other guy.”

“Babe, take off that suit. I’m going to see what’s going on and see if there’s anything for me to patch up.”

“I’m okay, really! Babe, can we just eat and cuddle? I miss making out with you.”

“Kate.” The use of her name and your facial expression told her that there was no whining her way out of this one.

Sighing, Kate slowly took off her purple jacket and the shirt that she had underneath. On her side, there was a red blotch that was already starting to change color. “I just know that’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Whoever that guy was he sure left you with something to remember him by.” You gently touched her side and immediately lifted your hand when she winced. “I’ll be right back.”

Her abs were on full display for you, but you tried to focus on the fact that she needed you in a different way at the moment. You tore your eyes away from her midsection, but not before she noticed. “See something you like?”

“Oh shut up.” You hated how your voice wavered, and a blush started to creep up your cheeks.

“Don’t act all shy now! We all know you love running your hands up and down my abs. Maybe I should put the food I got tonight on my stomach so you can eat it off of me.” Kate reached into the paper bag and waved a French fry in the air, but before she could put it anywhere, Lucky reached up and snapped it out of her hand.

At this point, your face was burning up so hot that you forced yourself to look away.

As you walked around the kitchen making an ice pack for your girlfriend, you stole a peek at her in the living room. Kate had turned on the TV and was humming along with the song in the commercial, and she was waving Lucky’s paws in time with the music. You rolled your eyes as you tried to fight off a smile at her antics. As if sensing the effect she had on you, Kate turned around in the couch and blew you a kiss. “Your brave soldier awaits medical treatment.”

“Oh, but I thought the brave soldier just wanted to make out.” You came back to the couch and pressed the ice pack to Kate’s side, causing her to suck in her breath. “Does that feel a bit better.”

“Much better, actually. Thanks.” Kate turned and gave you a proper kiss. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“You could sulk with Clint and ask him to give you lessons on how to be broody.” You pulled a face, trying to imitate Clint whenever he was in one of his moods.

“You’re too cute.” Kate couldn’t help but giggle as she kissed you again. “You should do that in front of him next time you see each other. Who knows, maybe he’ll take you under his wing so you can sit on the curb together.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” After kissing Kate’s forehead, you pulled her on your shoulder and opened up the paper bag containing dinner. “You know, next time we should go to the restaurant down the corner and see if they’re any good. I keep hearing good things about them.” You turned to Kate, but saw that she was nodding off. Lucky was already asleep on top of her, and you couldn’t help but snap a quick picture of the two of them before turning off the TV. As you moved to pick up Kate, she whined and attempted to cling tighter on to you. “Baby, no, I want to stay here with you.”

“I’m right here, we’re just going to bed right now, okay?”

“No, I want to stay here with you and our dog.” Kate tried to pull off a pout, but she was so tired that she ended up drifting off to sleep again.

“You’re such a baby sometimes. A bigger baby then even Lucky.” You waited for a response, but all you got was a light snore from your girlfriend. It didn’t take long for you to settle her down into bed, and once you managed to get on it with her, she latched onto you like her life depended on it. Her breath tickled your neck as she held you, and her strong arm snaked its way across your midsection. You could hear her sigh happily now that you were in her arms. Having a puppy for a girlfriend could be hard at times, but it was worth it for moments like these.

[mypoisonedvine]

Reader and Steve end up exposed to something on a mission that cause them to body swap. It would be hot as hell if one of them was seeing Bucky too and he decides to have fun with their misfortune.

(okay so this is kind of a crack fic so im sorry in advance asgjakhsagdj this is the WEIRDEST SMUT I’VE EVER WRITTEN... very nsfw and a slight touch of dubcon beneath the cut.)

you’d only been in Steve’s body for a few hours when you began to understand how deprived this man was.

you hadn’t gotten his memories.  you didn’t really understand how this had happened at all but you knew that for sure, because you distinctly recalled being you yesterday and now you were him.  and he was fucking horny.

maybe it was you, a little bit, but this was definitely his body acting of its own accord more than it was your mind inside of it.  it felt different in a guy’s body, for one.  it felt so different to have need like this, so much more all-encompassing than the subtle tingling in your gut that you normally felt when you were turned on.  damn, is this what it was always like for men?  you weren’t sure how they ever managed to get any work done.  maybe they don’t.

my cock is hard, you thought to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the concept.  you tried not to look down at it as you leaned back in your chair-- his chair, actually-- but you could feel it, not just the arousal coursing through it but the head curving back and digging into your hip.  

I can’t touch it, you decided, it would be invasive.  he’s not here to consent to me touching his body.  and you firmly believed that logic, and yet you felt your hand-- his hand-- reaching into the waistband of his uniform and pulling it out.  you whimpered just to feel warmth on it, though the sound was foreign to your ears as you realized you had his voice.

you had never been good at handjobs, but it was like instinct was guiding you as you stroked the cock you found in your palm.  his hands were sort of rough, something you normally liked but was not well-received in this body.  but it was enough-- it was just enough to satisfy this desperation that burned in your chest.  you could tell it had been so long since this cock had gotten attention from anything but this hand, you could feel how much he needed more but you, as his friend, understood why he didn’t get it.  he always told you he was too busy for dating.  frankly, if you got to this point, you wouldn’t really be worried about “dating” so much as “hooking up” but he was, understandably, not the type.

your head fell back as you bucked up into your hand, biting down on your lip-- and you’d always dreamed of tasting his lips, just not like this.  “fuck,” you hissed, the sound of his voice mundane to his body but driving your mind wild inside his stupidly beautiful head.  there was an urge to moan your own name, just to know how it would sound if he said it like this, but the idea was too weird for you go through with it.

then again, you were stuck in Steve’s body and jerking off so, ‘too weird’ was kind of a moot point.

you were jolted out of your rhythm when there was a knock at your-- his-- door.

“wh-who is it?” you stammered.

“it’s me!” you heard from the other side of the door. “or, well, it’s you!”

“shit,” you mumbled as you rushed to redress, running to the door-- you were so much faster in this body, unsurprisingly.  you weren’t really psychologically prepared to open the door and see yourself there.  you weren’t ready to be pierced by your own gaze, your own arms crossed in confusion.

“do you always get wet when you look at me?” Steve asked you suddenly.  “or is this just me... knowing it’s you?”

you swallowed, feeling an Adam’s apple bob in your neck-- what an odd sensation.

“does my voice always sound like that?” you asked when you heard his words from your mouth.

“we need to fix this before Bucky finds me again,” he demanded, “I barely managed to toss him off me.”

“... so I guess you found out about us too?” you winced, your secret fuckbuddies relationship now out in the open.

“more than I ever wanted to know,” he frowned.  his expression shifted as he looked up at you again.  “what were you doing?”

“what?” you asked, and you heard your own breathlessness.  “I wasn’t doing anything.  you always breathe like this.  don’t you have asthma?”

“I used to have asthma,” he corrected.

“yes, and now you have a vagina-- my vagina!-- so maybe we should focus on that and not you giving me this random third degree here?”

“whatever,” he scoffed, brushing past you to step into the room as you shut the door.  

“you didn’t... look, did you?” you asked nervously.

“uh, no,” he answered quickly, “did you?”

“I made a specific point not to,” you announced proudly.

“oh...” he mumbled, “good...”

“sooooo...” you changed the subject awkwardly, “any plans on how to fix this?”

“I was thinking we’ll start by trying everything we can think of, and work from there,” he offered.

“good plan,” you decided.  “maybe.... maybe, uh... we have to... go... somewhere?  or do something?”

“go somewhere and do something?” steve repeated incredulously. “you’re a real genius.”

“don’t make that face at me, you’re gonna give me frown lines,” you sneered.  “I can’t help it, okay?  I can’t think!  I’m distracted!”

“by what?”

“by... by stuff!” you defended, scratching the back of your neck-- it was your nervous habit, rendered entirely different by his short hair.

steve sighed, your chest rising and falling with his breath.  “it’s hard, isn’t it?”

“well, yeah, switching bodies is hard--”

“no.  it’s hard... isn’t it?”

your eyes went a little wide.  “ohhh. uh, yeah, it is.”

“god, I’m sorry,” he groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “it does that a lot.”

“how do you do anything?” you squawked.  “it’s like all I can think about is... is how bad I just need to be in something, something... warm!”

“welcome to my world,” he shrugged.

“you have to let me...” you began, but stopped yourself.  “no, no, we-- no.”

“what is it?” he asked.

“you have to let me fuck you.  me.  you have to let... you fuck me...?”

“won’t that be, you know... scarring?” 

you nodded.  “but I’m not sure we have a choice, please just-- just let me-- I know I want it.  I mean, I know my body wants it.  didn’t you say I’m wet?  I’m probably drenched by now, huh?”

he stammered a bit before answering. “um... I think so...”

“it feels warm, right?  warm and sensitive and like you need to be filled with something?”

“...kinda...” he replied hesitantly.

“please,” you groaned, “don’t tell me I’m the only one that’s ever thought about it.”

“no,” he answered, quicker than ever, “no, you aren’t.  you’re... you’re sure it’s okay?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you finally admitted, “not like this, but I’ll take what I can get--”

“fuck it,” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss, and with your eyes closed you couldn’t really tell the difference of who was who anymore, you just knew that it was him touching you and you didn’t really care that his hands were smaller and that his lips were softer.

you undressed each other at lightning speed, and there was a hand on your cock-- clearly he was pulling from his own experience with his own cock, because wow, he knew exactly how to touch it to make you gasp and whimper.

“you can look,” he offered to you when he pulled back from the kiss, “I know I did.”

“did you like what you saw?” you asked hesitantly.

“better than I ever imagined,” he grinned.  “I even put a finger inside you.  I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I’m gonna fit.”

“neither am I,” you sighed as you looked down at the thick member your own slender hand was wrapped around.  “fuck, steve... it’ll probably hurt you.”

“let’s just hope we can fix this tonight and you get to be sore tomorrow, not me,” he chuckled a little.

“k-keep stroking it, please,” you sighed, “I’m already-- I think I’m close.  I can’t really tell...”

“you should be able to feel it here,” he explained as he slipped his touch lower to cup your balls--

“oh,” you breathed, “this is... new...”

“oh please, it’s nothing compared to a clit,” he laughed, “that thing is sensitive.”

you realized that steve was taking much better advantage of this than you were-- while you had his body at your disposal, you needed to test out the superhuman strength.  it took you almost nothing to lift your own weight onto the desk, grinning as you saw him gasp at the show of strength.

“been a while since somebody lifted you?” you asked him with a smirk.  he didn’t reply, just spread his-- your-- legs and let you grind against him, just the warmth of a body enough for now even if you weren’t inside of it.  you kissed him again as you pulled him closer, thrusting to let that poor, sensitive cock slide over the delicate skin beneath you.

“well, well, well,” a voice echoed from the doorway.  you sat up and spun around to find Bucky, leaning around the wall with crossed arms and a satisfied smirk.  “it was just a matter of time before you two got together-- we all knew it.  no wonder you ran off so fast, babygirl... you had another engagement to attend to.”

“Buck, hold on--” Steve began.

“Bucky, this is not what it looks like,” you interrupted.

“then what is it?” Bucky asked with faux innocence.

you and Steve looked at each other, neither of you sure exactly how to answer that.  “it’s complicated,” you answered in unison.

“don’t worry about me, I’m not jealous,” he explained.  “we never said we were exclusive, no hard feelings,” he addressed Steve-- but he was talking to you.  well, he was trying to talk to you, but he didn’t know he was looking at Steve.  well, he was looking at you, but just your body-- oh fuck it, even you couldn’t make sense of it. “but Steve?” he chuckled. “he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.  he can’t make you feel as good as I can, I know it.”

he was like a blur as he pounced on you-- your body, at least, but it was Steve that was arching his back and moaning as Bucky licked and sucked at your neck, slipped his metal hand into your shorts and apparently found your most sensitive spots instantly.  Steve was already bucking up into his touch, your own moans echoing over the walls even if you weren’t the one making them.

“B-Buck, wait,” Steve protested, but he was too weak now to push him off, and too far gone into the pleasure to want to.

“feels good, hm?” Bucky purred, throwing a stray glance at you.  “are you jealous?” he asked you tauntingly.

“yes,” you admitted.

“jealous cause you know how good it feels when I make you come like this?” he pressed, and you froze.  

“do... do I?” you asked Steve anxiously.

“don’t look at him, look at me,” Bucky corrected firmly.  him? you wondered, but before you could ask, he answered your question, turning to address Steve pinned under him.  “I know it’s you, Steve.”

“what?!” you both gaped.

“she would never call me ‘pal’ like you did earlier,” Buck explained, “and she would never say no to me like you also did earlier.”

“hey!” you protested.

“and you,” he laughed, “I’d know that deer-in-the-headlights look anywhere, even on a different face.”

as embarrassing as this whole situation was, it was sort of nice to have someone else acknowledge it.  it made you feel less crazy.

“I can’t keep track of this conversation while there are fingers inside of me,” Steve shivered.

“it’s weird, isn’t it?” you smiled at him.  “good weird.”

“very good, very weird,” he agreed, breathing heavier as Bucky’s arm flexed from pumping his hand back and forth.

“she usually comes in just a few minutes from this,” Bucky explained to Steve, making you feel oddly exposed-- and not just because you knew they could both see the achingly-hard cock threatening to burst from the hastily-zipped pants.  “I know it’s you in there, but it’s still her body... so it should still be the same, right?”

“I-I’m close,” Steve replied, making Bucky laugh.

“oh, you’re even faster, damn.  go ahead and come for me-- don’t you wanna hear how she sounds when she comes?”

“yes.”

“don’t you wanna see that pussy cream all over my fingers?” 

“yes.”

“then beg me not to stop,” Bucky demanded, and instinct took over.

“please don’t stop,” you found yourself saying before Steve could answer, making them both turn to you.

“I’ve got you so well-trained,” Bucky grinned before looking back down at Steve beneath him.  “just like that, doll,” he repeated his instruction.

“don’t call me ‘doll,’” Steve barely managed to protest between loud moans.

“okay,” Bucky relented, “beg for me just like that, Stevie.”

“please!” Steve shouted instantly.  “please... please don’t stop.”

“one more time?”

“damn it, Buck, don’t stop!” he sobbed, and you wondered if you always looked like that when you came or if it was Steve’s expression painted on your own features.  Bucky, as always, wasn’t content with just one, and Steve’s eyes shot wide open as he realized that this could just keep going, over and over.  

“you’re-- you’re really not gonna stop,” Steve gasped.

“he’s mean like that,” you explained with a little smirk.  you were looking forward to getting back in your own body just for the multiple orgasms alone.

“how’s it feel, Stevie?” Bucky asked proudly.

“s-so good,” he answered dutifully, “so good it almost hurts.  fuck it hurts... but I want more, I wanna come again.”

“mm, so greedy,” Bucky praised.  “just one more, then we need to give our lonely friend some love... I bet she’s ready to make a mess in your pants just from watching me finger you--” he turned to you suddenly-- “isn’t that right?”

“yes,” you answered quickly.  “p-please, Bucky, I feel so... I need you.”

“I know, babygirl, it won’t be much longer,” he promised, “I can feel your cunt clenching on me already-- come on over here and feel for yourself.”

you hesitantly stepped closer, hissing a little as Bucky’s free hand grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand closer.  “see?  just put your finger in beside mine, I want you to know how tight you get when I make you come.”

you took a shaky breath but did as he asked, hearing Steve’s gasp as you inserted his thick finger into your slickened channel.  it definitely felt different than when you put your own fingers in yourself-- for him and for you.  it was different to feel your pussy around your finger when you couldn’t feel the finger in your pussy... if that made any sense.

“three’s too many,” Steve complained.

“and yet, here we are,” Bucky winked.

“I can’t,” Steve clarified, “it’s too big.”

“aw, she always says that but then she changes her mind... you will too,” Bucky decided.  “now just move like this,” he explained to you as you started to move with him, feeling the way your body responded instantly.  it built up so fast as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s pace, watching Steve cry out at the same time as your walls tightened around the assortment of fingers-- Steve and Bucky’s, flesh and metal-- inside you.

“you’re close,” Bucky informed both of you.  “feel the way that pretty pussy is getting so wet, holding on so tight?”

“y-yes,” you shivered, trying your best to ignore the pangs of need coursing through the cock you still struggled to acknowledge as your own.

“go ahead and come, Stevie,” Bucky encouraged, and that was all it took; Steve cried out as your whole body spasmed-- not just your body, but the body you were in.  You were coming, much to your dismay, without even being touched, ropes of hot come creating a wet patch on Steve’s uniform, and you couldn’t bit back the groans of pleasure as your gut flexed with each wave of the orgasm.

“oh, now look at that,” Bucky purred as he looked back and forth between Steve and yourself.  “you two both made a mess.”

“aw damn it, my uniform!” Steve protested as he looked at you.

“I think you need to help our girl clean up that mess,” Bucky cooed as Steve shot him a look.  “it’s been too long since you got your dick sucked... and I’ve always felt it’s your responsibility to solve your own problems.”

“I... I don’t know how,” Steve protested.

“I’ll show you,” Bucky promised as he guided Steve to kneel in front of you, helping you push down your trousers.  “just lick up some of that come first, nice and slow.”

you gasped the second you felt a warm tongue against your skin, your hands reaching out and finding a comfortable place to grip on your own hair-- and Steve moaned when you pulled on it.

“you like the taste of your own come, Stevie?” Bucky purred. “now put it in your mouth-- just the head, you might not be able to fit much else.  suck on it like a popsicle.”

you bit back a moan that wouldn’t been embarrassingly loud when you felt a warm, slick mouth wrap around where you were now much too sensitive.  

“look down, babygirl,” Bucky whispered to you.

“I-- I can’t,” you denied, “I can’t look.”

“but you look so pretty when you suck cock, doll, haven’t I told you a million times?”

you sighed but obeyed, opening your eyes and looking down at Steve looking up at you, but with your eyes, and with your lips stretch around his thick shaft.  “I... I do look pretty,” you agreed nervously.

“did you always wonder what Steve looks like when he’s getting his cock sucked?” Bucky asked you as he knelt down beside your body where Steve was using it for the moment.  “The answer is... very confused.”

“that might be unique to this situation,” Steve explained as he pulled away from you.

“keep sucking, whore, I didn’t say you could stop.”

that language made you both moan softly, but Steve obeyed.

“oh, we are going to have so much fun,” Bucky chuckled excitedly, and you already knew that you were in for a very long night.

[nctsworld]

the yuletide boyfriend

✩‌ yangyang ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fluff | angst | smut | friends to lovers | ‌college au | 9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.  

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.    

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.  

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.  

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.  

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.  

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.  

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.  

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.  

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.  

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:  

“WISHLIST:   -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.  

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.  

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.  

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.  

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.  

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.  

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.  

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.  

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.  

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.  

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.  

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.  

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.  

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”  

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”  

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.  

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.  

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.  

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.  

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.  

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.    

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.  

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.  

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.  

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.  

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.  

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.  

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”  

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.  

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.  

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.  

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.  

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.  

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side,  ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.  

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.  

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.    

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.  

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.  

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.  

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”  

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.  

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.  

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.  

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.  

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.  

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.  

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.  

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.  

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.  

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.  

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.  

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.  

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.  

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.  

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time. 

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”  

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping. 

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile.  “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.  

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”  

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.  

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”  

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.  

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC, Brother Bucky x OFC, Eventual Billy Russo x OFC

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Minor Character Death, Grief, Mourning, Brief mention of drinking and getting behind the wheel (DON”T DRINK & DRIVE)

Word Count: 4563

Chapter Summary: Steve watches the world come crashing down on the Barnes family. Billy’s plans are slowly falling into place.

A/N: This chapter will be in Steve’s POV mainly and one section of Billy’s POV. I did this so we can what each man is thinking before what happens in Chapter 10. 

This is my first fic with an original female character, Jessie Barnes. Face claim for Jessie Barnes is model Jessy Hartel,​

A/N 2: Please read the warnings. DNI if under 18 years old. I’ve been so nervous to release this chapter because it is now going to be more towards drama for a little bit.

BOLO meaning - Be on the look out​

To read more of my work here is my Masterlist

Thank you to my beta readers @music-culture-mythology​​​​​ & @lipstickstainedred​ Any other grammar or spelling mistakes are my own.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​

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Steve had a spring in his step all day as he thought about finally being engaged to Jessie. The day seemed to fly by for him as he worked on cars and made conversations with customers about his engagement. Living in a small town he wasn’t surprised that people had already heard the good news. The question seemed to be the same: “when is the big day?” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle saying they haven’t set one yet. If it was his decision they would be married tomorrow so they could start building the future they had always talked about. With the land bought they would build the house of their dreams and start a family. The one thing Steve had longed for was a family to call his own and now he was one step closer to it. 

It was rare for Jessie to work late like she said she was going to tonight, but he knew she needed to fix things with Becca. So Steve stayed down the street at the garage talking with Bucky, Thor, Tony, Clint, and John. As the guys were discussing an upcoming football game over the weekend his phone vibrated in his pocket. Steve pulled out the phone and smiled as he read the message.

Jessie: Hey babe, everything is done cleaning-wise.  I’m waiting to talk to Becca. I’m a little nervous so wish me luck.

Steve knew she was going to be anxious so he quickly texted her back. He hoped that the sisters could finally work things out so they could move forward and fix their bond that was currently broken. 

Steve: You got this sweetheart. Once you are done I’ll come to get you. Bucky, Thor, Tony, Clint, John, and I are hanging at the shop down the road. Message me when you’re done.

Jessie: I will, love you.

Steve: Love you too

Putting the phone back into his pocket Steve heard his friends making kissing noises. He rolled his eyes at the men. “Oh please, we all know you’re just as bad,” he said, pointing at Bucky. “I’ve heard the stories from you first-hand, jerk. We all know how Nat can be.” 

Bucky looked shocked by his friend’s accusation as he put a hand to his chest. “Please I don’t look like a homesick puppy when my phone dings with a message like you do punk.”

“No, you look like a whipped boy trying to get to your phone before your lady brands your ass,” Tony loudly exclaimed, causing the men to burst into laughter. 

“Says the man who jumps whenever Pepper calls. Let’s face it guys, we all have it bad for our women. Except for John here. The only relationship he has is with his right hand every night,” Clint joked as John flipped him off.

“But seriously guys, I want you to be on the receiving end of my red-haired vixen. That kitten has claws,” Bucky quipped back. The men continued to laugh and harass one another over who was more obsessed with their women. They were still laughing when suddenly a loud pop could be heard and the men went silent.

Steve looked at Bucky, both men thinking the same thing. “That sounded like a gunshot,” Steve said as all six men went outside the garage and stood on the sidewalk to listen. 

After a moment John spoke, “Maybe someone was shooting off fireworks?”

Bucky held his hand up to silence him. “No, that was a gunshot. I wonder where it came from.” The guys stood there, listening to see if there was another one but there was nothing but silence. As they were about to head back inside the sound of sirens could be heard.

Steve stood listening, waiting as the sirens grew closer. Something wasn’t right and he could sense it. Within seconds the Sheriff’s car and two ambulances flew past them. He watched in horror as it approached the diner. “Please don’t stop there, please don’t stop there,” he said over and over in his head until his worst fear came to light as the vehicles pulled into the diner. Before Steve could think straight he was running down the road towards the diner. What could have happened? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

The red and blue flashes were haunting, calling his name as he ran for his life. In the distance, he could see Billy and both ambulances approach the diner as more Sheriff’s department vehicles pulled up. Within minutes Steve was at the diner but was stopped by a deputy.

“Sir you can’t go in there,” the deputy said as he blocked Steve from passing.

His heart hammered in his chest as panic set in. “Please my fiancee is in there with her sister. What happened? Is she okay?” 

“Sir, I need you to step back for me. Let the EMTs do their work. This is an active crime scene.”

“Steve!” Bucky yelled as he skidded to a stop beside him. “What happened? Are Jessie and Becca okay?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair frustrated as other deputies set up a barrier around the diner. “This guy just said it’s an active crime scene and there are EMTs so someone has to be hurt. I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Thor, Tony, Clint, and John approached the scene in panic. Thor started asking the same questions as the deputies kept the men at bay. The men stood outside and waited until they heard a loud, anguished cry coming from inside. It was Jessie. 

“Fuck this,” Steve growled out as he pushed past the deputies and ran into the diner. The scene before him made his heartbreak. Billy sat next to Jessie on the floor holding her close as the EMTs worked on a bloody Becca. He watched the EMT perform CPR on Becca as they quickly put her on a stretcher.

“Steve what’s going…” Bucky’s voice cut off as he took in everything as well. Bucky screamed his sister’s name as Steve grabbed his friend trying to hold him back as the EMTs made their way outside. Both men could hear Thor cry out for Becca as she was loaded into the ambulance and rushed to the hospital. 

Steve pushed Bucky outside to get fresh air. “Buck, take Thor and head to the hospital with the guys. Have one of them call your mom. I’m going to see if Jessie is okay.”

Bucky looked between the ambulance driving away and the diner. “I need to see if Jessie is okay.” Bucky went to step around him but Steve put two steadying hands on Bucky’s shoulders.

“Please go with them. We will be right behind you as soon as I talk with Billy.” Steve's hands gently squeezed Bucky’s shoulder to reassure him. Bucky nodded his head and took off towards the garage to grab his bike. Steve had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. Whatever had transpired in that diner left Becca shot and who knows about Jessie. As he turned to head back in, Jessie was being escorted out by Billy. Jessie stared straight ahead with a haunted look on her face. Whoever did this to them was going to pay dearly. 

Billy walked her to the other ambulance to be looked at for her injuries. The EMTs started to look her over as Steve approached Billy. The men stood side by side watching Jessie wince as they dabbed at a bloody place on her head. 

“Did Jessie say who did this?” Steve asked.

Billy’s eyes never left her as he stood with his hands on his hips. “Brock.” His voice was laced with venom as he said the name. 

“You have got to be shitting me. Did she say why?” Steve furiously inquired. 

“No, I couldn’t get her to say anything else. She needs medical attention. Looks like he roughed her up before he shot Becca. I’m going to get my team in here to process the scene. As soon as we finish I will need to talk to her. If you can get anything out of her let me know. I put a BOLO out for Brock already with my deputies. If he is local we will find him.” Billy left Steve to head back into the diner. Steve’s heart broke as he watched her stare into oblivion as the EMT finished with what he could. 

“Sir, we’re going to transport her to the hospital to be checked out. We want to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. Do you want to ride with us?” The EMT questioned.

“No, I’m going to grab my bike and head that way. I’ll be ten minutes behind you,” Steve answered as he walked over to Jessie. His hand softly grabbed hers but she still didn’t look at him. “I will be right behind you.” Steve brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She looked so lost and broken. There was no doubt if he could get his hands on Brock there would be hell to pay. The ambulance pulled away as he headed back to the garage. Quickly he locked the doors and jumped onto his bike, heading to the hospital to be with his family.

The hospital was a chaotic scene when Steve arrived. Winnie was sitting down next to Bucky and Nat as they spoke in hushed voices. Tony and Clint were trying to calm Thor down as he paced the waiting room. Steve took a breath and walked into the waiting room. Bucky saw his friend walk into the room and got up to talk to him. 

“Any word from Billy about who did this?” Bucky asked as both anger and sadness filled his voice.

Steve ran a hand through his beard as Tony, Clint, and Thor approached them. Looking between his friends he let out a breath. “According to Billy, Jessie said Brock did this. She couldn’t answer any questions except for that.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Bucky angrily responded, as he kicked a chair over.

Thor’s hands clenched by his side. “He better hope nothing happens to my dearest Becca.” 

“Any word on if he’s still in town?” Tony asked.

Steve shook his head. “No, but there’s an alert out for him.” 

“The Sheriff is a good person. He’ll find Brock if he’s dumb enough to stay local.” Clint tried to reassure his friends.

Steve nodded in agreement. If there was one good thing in their corner it was their friend Billy. He knew how the other man felt about Jessie. If there was one thing they had in common, it was that they both wanted to keep her safe from harm. His eyes scanned the room and briefly fell on Winnie who was trying to keep herself together. He noticed John was missing from the bunch. “Did John not come?”

“He said he had to step outside for a few to take a phone call,” Tony answered. There was an awkward silence that fell upon the room as a doctor walked into the room.

“Barnes family, my name is Dr. Cho,” she stated as Winnie and Bucky approached her. 

“Dr. Cho, how are my daughters? Is Becca still in surgery? How is Jessie?” Winnie frantically beseeched as she clutched Bucky's arm.

“Your daughter Jessie has a mild concussion from her injuries as well as contusions around her neck. Jessie is not opening up to any of my nurses but that is common from being physically assaulted. As for Rebecca, I’m sorry to say we lost her in surgery. She lost a lot of blood due to where the bullet entered her. We tried everything we could but we lost her. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Time seemed to stand still in this moment for Steve as he stopped hearing the doctor, stopped hearing anything. He watched as Winnie screamed out in anguish as she almost collapsed to the floor, knowing objectively that he should have heard it but he heard nothing. Bucky managed to catch his mother and they clung to each other as they stumbled over to the seating, sobbing over the loss of Becca. Thor ran over to the doctor and pleaded with her, asking if she had made a mistake. But when she tried to talk to him disbelief took over as he tried to head into the back where Becca would be. Clint and Tony grabbed him, pulling him back into the room as he collapsed to the ground, mourning for the loss of Becca, the love of his life. Jessie was mildly injured and Becca was dead. All at the hands of Brock who should have never been allowed near them. 

Angered, there was a call for revenge deep in his bones, but that could wait for now. Steve approached Bucky and Winnie, kneeling next to them he wrapped his arms around his family. They would get through this together.

After Winnie and Bucky were allowed to see Becca’s body they headed up to Jessie’s room with Steve. Jessie was resting as Winnie, Bucky and Steve walked into her room. Winnie approached her daughter and kissed her head gently as the men slowly walked closer. Jessie seemed to stare into space, not acknowledging them. Winnie tried to comfort her daughter, encouraging her to open up to tell them what happened but Jessie would not respond. The trauma was overwhelming for Jessie and the doctor had told them to just give her time. So they sat with her in silence. Dr. Cho had said they were going to keep Jessie overnight for observation but would release her in the morning. 

Bucky had talked his mother into letting him take her home so she could get some rest. Bucky turned to Steve as they were about to leave. “If anything changes with her during the night my cell will be on. I’m going to stay with mom.”

Steve hugged his friend tightly. “I will, I promise.” He watched as his best friend and his future mother-in-law left the room. Walking back to the chair next to the bed, he sat down as he watched Jessie drift in and out of sleep. The bruises around her throat were growing darker by the hour. Oh, what he would give to have ten minutes alone with that monster who dared to touch his future wife and sister-in-law. This was supposed to be a day of forgiveness between the two women but Brock ripped that away from them. This was also supposed to be a time of happiness as he just got engaged with Jessie. How can life be so cruel?

For now, he would stay by her side and protect her from any harm that dares to come her way. He would kill Brock before he let that man come near her again.

Sleep was something that didn’t come for Steve as he watched Jessie like a hawk. By the time he knew it, nurses were greeting him and letting him know the doctor would be in to check on her within the hour. Steve stood and stretched as he watched Jessie sleeping the little bit she could. The sound of a soft knock had him turning in the direction of the door. Billy was standing there and signaled for him to step into the hallway.

Once outside the door, Steve leaned against the wall. “Any news on his whereabouts?”

Billy ran a hand through his beard. “No new leads yet. I heard that Becca didn’t make it through the night. I’m sorry for the loss. How is Jessie doing?”

Wiping a hand across his face Steve sighed. “Jessie isn’t talking to anyone, not even me. She slept on and off all night. The doctor stated the bruises around her throat were from when Brock strangled her. They mainly wanted to keep her for the night for observation but we are expecting her to be released today.”

“That’s good news. She will do better in her own home. Has anyone told her that Becca didn’t make it?” Billy inquired, but when Steve shook his head no he couldn’t even imagine the heartbreak she would feel all over again. 

“Once Bucky and Winnie get here we’re going to give her the news.” Steve sighed as he thought about how the news was going to tear her apart. “If you get any information about Brock let me know.”

Billy shook his head. “I assure you once we get him you will be the first to know.”

Steve clenched his jaw in frustration. “I wish I could get my hands on him for ten minutes for what he did to Jessie and Becca.”

“Trust me you aren’t the only one,” Billy smirked at the thought. “I will stop by later to get her statement.” He shook Steve’s hand and turned to leave. 

Steve headed back into the room and waited beside Jessie until they could go home.

Billy’s phone started to ring as he walked out of the hospital. He glanced at the caller ID and saw it was John Walker. With a heavy sigh, he picked up. “Now is not a good time.”

“We have a problem boss.” John was out of breath and panicking. 

He climbed into his vehicle and tried to compose himself. “What is the problem?”

“Brock showed up at Rogers’s property while I was making the last drop off at 5 am. He ambushed me in the dark, said that he wants his money now and that he was taking everything here as a down payment. Then he knocked me out. I just came to and everything we placed here is gone!”

Billy clenched his teeth as he began to see red. “Fuck! That backstabbing bastard. He knew I was going to get Rogers on federal charges for running a chop shop.” None of this was supposed to happen. Brock was just supposed to rob the diner and leave the women shaken. He had explicitly told Brock not to harm the women in any way, especially his woman. Billy’s neck jerked as he thought of Brock touching Jessie. No one touches what belongs to him and lives to tell about it. “I will handle this since your incompetence is getting on my last nerve.” Billy hung up the phone as he tried to think of his next move. Grabbing the steering wheel tightly he imagined how he was going to handle Brock. He should have known that imbecile wouldn’t follow simple directions. 

Composing himself Billy started forming a plan. There was more than one way to get rid of Brock, Steve, and Bucky. A sinister smile formed on his face as he pulled away from the curb. Jessie would be his soon enough.

Bucky and Winnie had come by the hospital half an hour later. Steve then broke the news to Jessie that Becca did not survive her injuries. His heart shattered watching her cry in anguish over the loss of her sister. Winnie sat on the hospital bed cradling Jessie as both mother and daughter grieved. Bucky and Steve shed tears at the sight in front of them as they mourned together as a family. Jessie kept repeating that she was responsible for her sister’s death. They tried to reassure her but it fell on deaf ears. 

An hour later Jessie was discharged from the hospital and the four of them headed to Steve and Jessie’s home. Steve knew the grief of losing a family member as he lost both parents, but he couldn’t imagine what Winnie felt as she had just lost a child. If Steve could get his hands on Brock he would make sure he would pay for hurting his family. 

The day felt like it passed in slow motion. Thor was the first to show up to be with everyone to grieve. Thor who was once the positive force in a room during gatherings was now knelt next to Winnie crying with her. Steve watched the display from the kitchen, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose the love of his life. The club would have to keep an eye on Thor in the coming days and weeks. 

It wasn’t until late afternoon when Billy showed up to speak with Jessie. As much as everyone insisted on giving Jessie time Billy said it was important for the case. Jessie finally spoke coherent words since the incident. “I want to do this,” she whispered. 

Billy sat in a chair next to her as Steve and the others sat down in the other seats in the living room. Billy reached over to take Jessie’s hand and lightly squeezed it in reassurance. “Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

Jessie took a hesitant breath and told them everything. “Becca and I had finally worked our differences out before Brock showed up. He came in demanding money and holding us at gunpoint and when I sassed Brock he hit me. I was mad that he was there and all I could think of was how to get Becca out of there. He had me at gunpoint the entire time he dragged me to the office while Becca got the money from our charity event we held earlier in the week. When Becca headed back to the dining room I decided to try and fight him. I got a few hits in until he let me go. I told Becca to run as I made it to the dining room. But as I made it past the counters he tackled me. Brock did say something unusual.”

“What did he say?” Billy inquired.

“Brock said I don’t care what ‘he’ says. Now that I think of it Brock mentioned it twice. Something about how I was off-limits to Brock. Though once Brock was on top of me choking me he mentioned that he was going to kill me. Becca tried to help but he hit her. I thought I was going to die until I saw his gun on the ground. So I reached for it. I figured if I could get to it maybe I could save us from him. By the time I got the gun, Brock had noticed what I was doing and we started struggling over it. Becca was trying to pull him off me. I-I remember closing my eyes and praying I could get the upper hand but… the gun went off. I killed her.”

The room fell silent. Billy moved closer to Jessie as tears fell from her eyes. “Jessie, you didn’t kill your sister.” His hand held hers as he tried to reassure her.

Steve watched as Jessie shook her head, then opened her eyes. She looked around the room and watched as Winnie cried into her hands while Bucky rubbed his mother’s back. Briefly, she looked at him and then at Billy. What he would give right now just to hold her and let her know this wasn’t her fault.

“It was my fault. If I never reached for the gun Becca would be alive…” Jessie softly insists but is interrupted by the Sheriff.

“Jessie, I’m here to tell you that Brock was out for blood that night. If you never tried to fight back we could have also lost you as well.” Billy insisted as Jessie started to cry from his words. “I promise you I will get Brock and there will be justice.” He stood from his seat and walked out of the room as Winnie went to comfort her daughter. Bucky and Steve followed Billy outside the house. 

The three men stared at one another before Bucky spoke. “Are you sure you will be able to find him?”

“Yeah, I don’t think he got far at all. We’ll be searching for Brock at all the places he’s known to frequent.”

“What can we do to help?” Steve questioned.

Billy looked between both men. “I don’t think it’s wise that you two get involved.”

“I was involved from the moment he hurt my sisters.” Bucky angrily accentuated as he stood with his arms crossed. 

Knowing they would want to be involved Billy inwardly smiled. This could play in his favor. “If I hear something I’ll let you know.” The men shook hands and went back inside the house as Billy left. 

Billy pulled his burner phone out and he texted Brock. “We need to meet soon as the whole county is looking for you. Can you meet me at Rogers’ property at midnight in a couple of days?”

Brock: “That’s fine but I want double the amount we agreed on or I spill that you tried to set up Rogers and Barnes on federal charges for running a chop shop on top of robbing the diner.”

Billy’s jaw clenched in anger as he texted Brock back. “Done.” Oh, he was going to make him pay dearly for crossing him. No one crosses jigsaw and lives to see another day.

The days seemed to pass by slowly for the grieving family and friends. Steve had set up the spare bedrooms for Winnie and Bucky. It was easier to keep the family together during their time of mourning. Clint had called Thor’s brother Loki to come to town to take care of his brother since Thor was pushing everyone away. Thankfully Loki was able to arrive the next day and weaseled his way into his brother’s house. 

Family was so important to lean on, especially as they needed to start talking about funeral plans. Becca’s body was released to the funeral home after an autopsy was performed on her. Bucky and Steve were working hard to take care of both Jessie and Winnie. 

The diner was still closed due to it being a crime scene and wouldn’t be able to open until the investigation was over. Bucky and Steve decided to have the garage closed until they at least got past the funeral.

It wasn’t until several days later that John dropped by the house to talk to Bucky and Steve. John informed the men that he spotted Brock at a rundown house at the edge of town. John was going to tell the Sheriff but figured both men would want to visit Brock before the authorities. They had thanked him and once John left Steve and Bucky talked over a several beers about what they wanted to do to Brock.

Steve walked over to Jessie and kissed her gently. “Bucky and I have to run an errand real quick. Clint will be here for you and your mom while we’re out. I love you, Jessie.” 

Jessie’s blue eyes locked with his. “I love you too.”

Both men left the house and made their way to Jessie’s truck. The bikes would be too loud if they were going to sneak up on Brock. Once they get their hands on Brock he’s going to wish that Jessie would have shot him dead. Steve would make sure he felt the same pain that Jessie did when Brock hurt her. Bucky was also unhinged, he wanted to make the man pay for hurting his family. Revenge was at the forefront of their minds as Steve started the truck and headed towards the house that John told them about. No one would hurt their family and get away with it.

Chapter 10

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[t-lostinworlds]

Wish You Didn’t (Peter Parker)

a/n: hello, hello. here’s another angst fic as ‘tradition’ since this is my first ever full peter parker fic so yeah, please be kind alska. this is very fluffy from the start but then it’s all downhill from there lol, hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: peter parker x female reader trope/genre: song fic - Wish You Didn’t Love Me by Jake Miller; best friends to...well; fluff and angst summary: You love Peter Parker with all that you have, but somehow, he doesn't find that as a good thing. Despite feeling the same way, to protect you, Peter wish you didn't love him at all. warnings: wholesome cuteness at the start to set you up for heartbreak, brief dark thought from peter, and swearing. word count: 13.9k+ (i mean, what’s new)

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Ugh."

Peter looked up from his textbook just in time to see you drop your bag on the table and then plop yourself down on the seat across him in the library. There was a look of pure frustration on your face, his brows furrowing at the sight of the deep frown written on your lips.

"What's up?" Peter asked, twirling his pen in his fingers as he tilted his head at you in concern.

You let out a big sigh, meeting your best friend's gaze with your frown still intact. "I've got a debate coming up tomorrow," you grumbled dejectedly.

The crease between Peter's brows could only deepen at your words.

You were the best on the debate team, always at the ready to take whatever topic it was thrown at you, headstrong. You're always excited to gush to him about what could be your winning argument, what would put the opposing team at a standstill. So, to see you be somewhat upset about an upcoming debate, it was so unlike you.

Maybe because it seemed last minute but by the looks of it, Peter can't help but feel like it was more than that.

"What's it about?" he asked.

You blew out your cheeks, hand coming up to play with the notebook he had on the table before you blurted out,

"Spider-Man: Friend or Foe."

Peter cleared out his throat just as he turned the page of his book to hide it, sitting straighter in his seat, pretending to get back to reading to avoid your gaze.

He didn't tell you.

Years and years of being best friends yet you didn't have an ounce of clue that you were sitting right across the person who was going to be the topic of your debate.

Peter trusts you of course, he trusts you with his life. His reason was simple really: he just didn't want to drag you into it.

Plus, knowing how worried you can get, he just didn't want to put you through all of that, especially on top of all things college and with what's going on in your personal life. He already feels so guilty with the stress he's put May through, he can't bear to see you have that burden too.

And most importantly, Peter just wanted to protect you.

"Still don't see why you're bummed about it," he said with a shrug, gaze running over the text printed on the paper but none of it was going inside his mind.

"I got picked to defend him."

Peter's head shot up at that, eyes narrowing on your seated form as he asked, "Oh, so you think he's a foe?"

"No..." you trailed off, eyes wandering around his slightly messy table littered with notes, textbooks and books, highlighters and everything in between. "Not really."

Closing his book, Peter leaned forward, arms rested on the surface with his full attention now on you. "Care to elaborate?"

You pursed your lips, shifting in your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I mean, he's probably got good intentions but I've read about the Sokovia accords you know," you started, Peter nodding to show you that he was following. "And it's a debate. The other party would do their best to make him out to be a reckless vigilante. I can already think of so many arguments that they'd throw."

"Such as?"

"That he could be doing this for fame and attention, or that he is doing good things but his drive to do them isn't exactly the best. Is it for revenge? Bragging rights or maybe something darker? Another one could be that he's young, careless and naïve. We don't know what he's really capable of superpower wise which means he can probably hurt innocent people in the future.

"Not to mention if he's on the right or wrong side of the law. Who has to pay for the collateral damages that he has caused? Is it right to let him go scot free? I could go on and on and I just," you paused, resting one arm on the table and then placing your head on it as you looked up at your best friend. "I can't really counter those things with full force because I don't really know the dude nor do I have any real, solid facts about him to back up my claim that he's completely on the good side."

"Research hasn't done you good has it?" Peter hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hand came up to poke your cheek, a sweet attempt to try and rid of your frown.

You shook your head no with a deepened pout, taking his hand away from your face with your own free hand as your nimble fingers then played with his absentmindedly.

Peter's heart grew warm at the gesture.

"There's literally nothing on this spider dude aside from blog posts written by fanboys and girls gushing about how amazing he is. Which is never a great source since it's already so biased," you explained.

"What would truly help you aside from research?" he queried, eyes trained on the way you interlock your fingers together and then letting it go only for a second before interlacing them again, letting it go and repeat. It was such an adorable habit of yours, one that Peter has grown so fond of, your touch always delicate and sweet whenever you fidget with his hand.

"An interview I guess? It'd be nice to get to ask him a few questions. Like, it would help to know why I'm on his side. Get a perspective on why he does what he does, you know?" you sighed, eyes fluttering close with your frown still intact. "At least that way, I know I'm defending someone who I know is worth defending."

Peter hummed as he tore his eyes away from your intertwined hands and back on your sprawled out upper-half on the table. He pursed his lips, gaze on the dip and valleys of your beautiful but stressed face. His brain grew at odds the more he took in your deep frown—one he always hates seeing no matter the reason—as he raked his thoughts on what he could possibly do to help without having the trouble of revealing his secret to you.

"But it's genuinely impossible to talk to him—"

"You could send him an email," Peter blurted before he gave himself time to properly process his words. Hell, he didn't even get to weigh the odds and dangers of his proposition. But now that it already slipped out his mouth—

Shit. I don't think this is a good idea...

Your eyes snapped open as you gaped up at him, brows deeply furrowed as you wondered, "Spider-Man...has an email?"

Too late to back out now, Parker.

"Well, all the Avengers do, under Stark Industries to be specific," Peter said in the most nonchalant way he can muster. "Since, you know, Stark tech in their suits, modifications, upgrades, what color they want it as, etcetera, it's how they talk about those stuff."

You abruptly sat up, dropping his hand as you laid both of your palms flat on the table, eyes now twinkling with hope and excitement. "You think he'd actually see it?"

"Yeah, not many people know about it so," he trailed off with a shrug, opening his book again and flicking through the pages.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"

Peter scoffed with a shake of his head, never looking away from his book given that you'd notice his lie right off the bat if he does so. "I don't know Y/N, probably because I work there," he pointed out. Well, technically it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

"And you're giving me it?"

He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze. "I don't see why not? As long as you don't share it around or sell it," Peter warned, shooting you playful glare.

"Yes! Oh my—you are the best," you exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of your seat and rounding the table to give him a back hug. "You're a lifesaver Pete, thank you." With one last squeeze, you pulled away and swiftly snatched your bag, feet in a rush as you treaded towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked bemusedly.

"Sending the email! Hopefully I can talk to him tonight!" you called back to him.

Peter can't help but shake his head at you with a laugh, "I haven't even given you the email!"

"Just send—"

Sssh!

"Oops, sorry," you whispered, finger over your lips as you rushed back to his side with a bright smile. "Just text me it please? Love you," you hummed, hand landing on his shoulder as you leaned down to place a swift but sweet kiss on his cheek.

The skin where your lips once were quickly turned pink, Peter's heart skipping countless beats at that four-letter word, unable to conjure any response the more he thinks about the actual weight of the warmth that's grown in his chest. He's heard you say it to him many times before of course, but despite holding a different meaning—one with friendship laced around it—it never fails to make Peter's heart soar.

Albeit wanting it to mean something else, something more, Peter knows he shouldn't. Always quick to silence his heart on screaming for more given that it wasn't ideal, for your sake. He always reminds himself that he already feels utmost content with what he has with you now, content with the love you make him feel even if it's only to an extent.

It was enough, for your sake.

Nothing but adoration coated his features as his eyes followed your every movement. His heart grew even more when you beamed at him once you pulled away, ruffling his hair playfully before hurrying out of the library, shooting him one last smile and a wave before disappearing from sight.

Peter can't wipe his own grin off his face, just the sight of your beautiful smile and your joyful eyes, easily contagious on his part. But then realization dawned on him and the curve slipped away, replaced by a frown laced with panic as he pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Shit."

He quickly gathered up his things and rushed out of the library, taking the back door out of the building to the nearest alley. Peter had his eyes glued to his screen the whole time as he quickly made a fake but believable enough email before sending it to you.

***

"Heard you were looking for me?"

You let out a yelp, jumping a few inches back as you spun around towards the direction of the voice. A hand flew over your chest the moment your eyes landed on a figure, shock befalling you as you froze. He was squatted down on the ledge of the rooftop of your apartment building, red and blue faint under the night sky. "Oh my—uh, hi," you squeaked, eyes blinking rapidly to see if what you're seeing was actually real.

The wind was blowing cold, your black pants, plain t-shirt and jean jacket doing just enough to minimize it. The sound of the streets of Manhattan was echoing below, very busy but faint due to your distance from the ground, enabling you to still hear his voice loud and clear when he spoke again.

"Hi, I'm Spider-Man," he introduced as he offered you his hand, masked eyes trained on you as you cautiously walked towards him.

"I know. I'm Y/N," you said, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand, the material of his suit rough against your palm as you shook it. You were in absolute awestruck, eyes glowing with wonder as you did nothing but gape at him.

"I know," he said and you can practically hear his smile behind the mask. He gave your hand a squeeze, the odd feeling that coursed through your bones made you tilt your head at him in mere curiosity, brows furrowed in utter confusion. Mr. Spider-Man swiftly cleared out his throat, eyes casted down as he quickly let go of your hand. "It's on your email," he added hastily.

"Oh, yeah," you muttered. A few seconds passed and you just stood there, staring at him like some star struck fan as you rubbed your hands together in both the cold and slight nerves. After a few seconds more, you finally spoke, "Wow, okay, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."

You don't know where to actually begin.

The first thought you had after sending the email was that he'd never actually see it, or if he does, he'll simply ignore it. You had been ready to wait out in the cold for a couple hours, anticipated the letdown to be frank. Yet here he was, the Spider-Man, right in front of you who, amazingly, even arrived right on time.

Spider-Man was making you nervous.

Normally, you have no problem with doing interviews. It is a form of research after all, and being on the debate team, you've done countless of it. But right now feels different.

Maybe it was the fact that he was a fucking superhero. He's someone who has actually done quite a lot and has probably seen and experienced other worldly things just as much if not more. Or maybe it's the fact that you simply don't know where this will go from here.

Will it do well that you'd get to ask proper questions and get answers that would truly help or will he get cocky and rude that this interaction would only end up being a waste of time?

Despite being famous, he was a complete mystery to everyone. The person behind the mask was wholly unknown and that itself makes you very nervous.

With a shrug, he said, "Well, wouldn't pass helping a friend."

"Are you making your voice deep?" you asked, the sound of his voice a little too...computerized for it to be normal.

He nodded. "Voice modulator, it helps keep my secret identity, well, a secret."

"Oh, yeah, figured."

You stayed quiet again after that, arms crossing over your chest as you kept your gaze steady on him, features coated with a mixture of emotions from confusion, amazement, curiosity and everything in between.

He chuckled softly, probably noticing your painfully obvious shyness. "Got questions for me?" he prodded.

You blinked a few times before frantically nodding, recalling how you specifically said in the email that you just wanted to ask a few questions. You then took out your phone, showing him the voice recording app and asked, "Is this okay?"

Spider-Man tilted his head at you with a soft hum.

"Yeah, I trust you with it."

You smiled.

The pressure and nerves turned lighter on your shoulders as you somewhat felt more comfortable...safe around him. And there's just something about the fact that he trusts you that warms your bones. It's like he's certain you only have his best intentions in mind, as if he knows you weren't in this for a selfish gain. It's really comforting in a sense, makes you feel confident that you're on the right track.

It makes you feel good about yourself.

With a soft nod, you hit record, words of curiosity slipping out of your lips soon after. "Those webs, do they come out from you?"

"No, they don't," he chuckled, taking out a vile from his wrist and then handing it to you. "That is what you call web fluid and I make them."

You gingerly took it in your hands, eyes scanning it briefly before you gave it back. "Impressive."

"Thanks. So, the fluid is like the bullets and these right here"—he showed you the black bands on his wrists with his hands open—"Are the web shooters that make me well, shoot webs. Like so," he explained as he pressed the button on his palm, the webs streaming out soon after and snatching an empty can on the far corner before it landed back in his hand.

You pursed your lips with a nod. "So, you can make weapons," you said with a certain tone in your voice that caused him to shift in his place.

"I—uh, no?" he stuttered, placing the can back on the ground loudly and in a not-so-subtle way. "I will never build a nuclear bomb if that's what you're wondering," he rushed when you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

"Didn't say anything about a nuclear bomb," you pointed out with a tilt of your head.

"I-I'm, uh, I didn't—"

"I'm just messing with you," you cut him off with a soft laugh, your nerves diminishing swiftly at how he seemed to be a little shy and awkward but in an endearing way. It makes him appear more human, normal. "You're so tense, just relax."

"Yeah…okay," he breathed out. He turned around to face the city, going from crouching to fully sitting down on the ledge, hands folding on his thighs as he looked at you over his shoulder. He jerked his head, gesturing for you to come closer to which you gladly did.

You leaned on the concrete with soft hum, placing your phone beside his thigh so it was now between you both. You scanned the beautiful city with a content smile, the view never ceasing to amaze you despite seeing it too many times before. The rooftop is your best escape after all. It was nice to be far away from everything, even if it's only for a moment. Nothing but peace coats you whenever you're up here, may it be from the gentle gush of the wind or the bright shine of the moon that spreads throughout the blanket of black sky.

With a sigh, you looked up at the mask man beside you. Flustered was what you came to be when you noticed that he was already staring at your face, the white and black of his eyes looking somewhat soft, and you swear he looked almost as if he's smiling behind the mask. Warmth was quick to coat your body, a stark contrast to the cold breeze as you cleared your throat, causing him to swiftly look away.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Really want to impress you."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a timid smile growing on your lips as you shrugged. "No need to impress anyone, let alone me," you said. "Just be yourself Spider-Man."

Oh, I truly wish I could just be myself right now Y/N—

"Okay," Peter hummed with a smile.

"Are you sure this is fine?" you asked, gesturing towards your phone in the middle of you two. "I don't want to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable by recording our conversation."

Peter's heart grew warm as his smile widened. Always considerate you are, too kind for your own good. If it was someone else, he probably would've had loads of pictures taken by now. Or maybe even a hidden camera somewhere to catch him at the wrong moment. Many of which would then be posted on the internet to spread like wildfire. Not that he minded the photos and videos but it's off putting sometimes, especially when they churn out not-so-good headlines to match.

"Promise me you won't share or sell it?" he joked, mentally cursing himself soon after once he realized it's the same words he said to you earlier in the library. Although he felt a wash of relief right away when you didn't seem to notice as you only flashed him a sweet smile in return.

"I promise," you hummed, turning to face him as you leaned sideways on the ledge. "What other superpowers do you have?"

"Enhanced abilities such as super strength, I can run fast and heal fast. Dialed up senses meaning I can see, hear, smell and feel things on another level. I'm...sticky, meaning I can climb up walls and stick to stuff like how a spider would. And oh, spider sense," Peter elaborated, watching with amusement as he saw your eyes change from awe, confusion, to impressed and back to confusion.

"Spider sense?"

"I can sense danger and threats when it's coming, like I feel a tingle."

"That's really cool," you hummed, hand rapidly lifting up as you took a fast and big swing towards his shoulder. He caught your fist in his hand way before you could even have the chance to land a punch.

Peter shook his head at you in pure amusement, giving your fist a squeeze before he let it go. "That wasn't so successful now was it?" he chuckled.

"It was worth a try. Just testing the waters to see if it would trigger your 'spidey sense' as you call it," you laughed, quoting the two words with your fingers teasingly.

"It didn't because one, anyone could see that punch from a mile away, and two, I said dangers and threats," he paused, tilting his head at you adoringly. "And you're not really a threat."

"Hey, I can be threatening," you scoffed, chin up with your chest puffed out.

Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can. I bet you can handle yourself well, especially with proper training." He took in a deep breath before saying, "But that's not really what I meant."

"What did you mean?

"That I feel safe around you."

"Oh." You blinked at him a few times before you fully broke his gaze, suddenly turning bashful as your eyes watched the busy street below where the cars and people were scurrying about in the cold New York night. Squaring your shoulders, you added, "Well, for what it's worth, I feel safer around you now too."

Peter felt his heart leap out of his chest, a proud smile erupting on his face, gaze dropping on the ground—or lack thereof—shyly as red started to dust his cheeks. "That's worth a lot," he hummed, lifting his head at the same time you did, your eyes locking immediately.

You beamed at him sweetly, shifting on your feet before letting out a breath. "Right, onto a more serious question," you paused, gesturing at the whole of him with your hand. "Why exactly are you doing this?"

"What do you think is the reason why I'm doing what I do?" he asked back, eyes trained on your face for a moment before he looked straight ahead. He can feel your orbs burning a hole on the side of his face, your brows furrowed in a way that Peter could do nothing but grin widely. He always found your thinking face endearing.

"I don't know, could be a lot of things. Could be money, glory, revenge, bragging rights, most likely fame?" you suggested.

Peter shook his head, keeping his gaze on the building across. "If I was doing this for fame, you'd think I would've shown my face by now?"

"Touché."

"But no," he breathed out, eyes now trained on his feet as he swung them aimlessly on the edge of the building. "I just want to help to the best of my abilities. I feel like I was given these powers, me, for a reason. If I'm not going to use it for a good cause then what's the point of having them?" Peter turned to face you, holding your gaze securely, even behind the mask as he continued, "If I'm not going to help out the little guy, even if I can easily do that then, who will? I can't simply watch the world fall apart when I could've done something to prevent it or provided a little bit of help, you know?"

You nodded. "With great power comes great responsibility."

Peter cracked a smile. "Yeah, exactly," he hummed, gaze dropping to stare at his gloved hands, turning it over before clasping it together with a sigh.

"How do you feel about the people who think you're not on the good side? That you have some hidden agenda?"

"I pity them if I'm being honest."

"How so?"

"I mean, if you're at a point in life where you can't accept that someone is helping simply for the sake of helping, then you've must've gone through a lot to not trust easily," Peter started, fingers fidgeting with his web shooters before he met your gaze. "We've been taught to always think that there's an incentive in all that we do. If you give, you have to receive and vice versa. But why can't we simply give and not expect something in return? People are so accustomed to the whole give and take thing that when someone just gives, it feels unfamiliar. That's why they get suspicious. They overthink that surely I'm doing this for something else when there's really no other reason than simply wanting to help.

"I also get it. It's a cruel world we're living in unfortunately where we have to keep one eye open. But I wish people would begin to accept that someone is helping to make the world a better place by simply wanting to have a safe and better place. No hidden agenda whatsoever," he finished, brown orbs catching sight of how your smile grew wider, brighter.

"You're a wise man," you said with an appreciative nod. "With a really good heart too."

"Thanks. I try my best."

"I'd say you've probably lived a life, traveled the world, seen so many new things, been to space," you trailed off, raising a brow at him in question.

"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckled.

"Are you a billionaire? Are you a prince in disguise or maybe a king? Are you a lawyer? Or maybe some kind of mythical being like Thor?" you poked.

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a kid from Queens."

Shit.

Peter you fucking idiot. You absolute dumbass—

"Huh, I've got a best friend who's from Queens," you muttered, voice barely above a whisper but thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities, of course he heard it loud and clear.

Peter bit the insides of his cheek to stop his smile, even though you weren't going to see it anyway since he has a mask on. I know you do. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said aloud instead, standing up to his full height with his hand out for you to take.

You narrowed your eyes at his outstretched palm before you looked up at his masked face. "Are you going to kidnap me now and sell my organs?"

Peter threw his head back with a hearty laugh, the sound ringing in the air as he shook his head at you. "No, I'm going to show you New York from a different angle," he said, smiling widely as he leaned over closer, hand open wide. "Do you trust me?"

"You did not just quote Aladdin," you laughed, taking your phone off the ledge to stop recording before shoving it in your pocket.

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "What if I did?"

You smiled widely at that, placing your hand securely in his and giving it squeeze. "Then yes, I trust you."

Peter hoisted you up on the ledge with ease, both of you now standing side by side on the edge of the building. A small squeak came out of you when you curiously looked down and saw that the ground was actually very far away, your grip on his hand tightening when all you could think of was splat. He chuckled, moving closer to you as he lifted your arm and placed it over his shoulders, your eyes snapping back up to look at his masked face.

"Is this okay?" he hummed, his arm wrapping around your waist strongly once you gave him a nod approval. "Hold tight," Peter said.

"Please don't let me go," you whispered, worry-filled eyes boring into his own while a mixture of both nervousness and excitement coated your features.

"Never."

Peter jumped.

You screamed.

The strong gush of the wind swiftly hit your face, hair whipping around as your grip around him tightened starkly. You felt your stomach churn while you swung in the air, passing one building to another, going high up and then dropping back down in a swooping motion. Your legs wrapped itself around his waist almost instinctively, all in fear of falling to your death.

"This was a bad idea!" you screeched, head buried on the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight ever since your feet left the ledge.

"Open those eyes Y/N! You're missing all the fun!" Peter laughed, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. He felt you slowly pull your head away from his neck, lids inching open one by one until you finally gawked at the wonderful lights and blaring colors of the city in awe.

Your mouth fell agape the more you took the sight in, the city a blur but somewhat beautiful in its own unique way. You loosened your grip around his shoulder just so you could lift a hand up in the air, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you felt the cold wind brush through your fingertips in the most comforting way.

That's when you let out a gleeful laugh.

Peter felt his heart melt ten times over at the beautiful sound. His cheeks were hurting from grinning ear to ear the more he took in how you're having the best time.

You looked absolutely breathtaking, the city lights casting a glow over your features, eyes holding nothing but pure bliss and wonder with that lovely, bright smile of yours to match.

The city was pretty sure, Peter loves seeing it at night whenever he does his patrol. But you, you were gorgeous, a stunning sight that he could never ever have enough of. You never do fail to make his heart stop, never fail to take his breath away, never fail to make his limbs all weak and Peter found himself falling deeper despite trying his hardest not to.

"This is so cool—no!" you shrieked, eyes wide with fear as you shot high up midair and went free falling for a few horrifying seconds before you landed back into his embrace, slotting right into his chest. Peter laughed as you quickly went to latch onto him, your grip viselike with both arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. He wrapped an arm around you securely as his other hand held tightly on the web, both of you now face to face as you continued to swing in the air.

You lifted your head up to look at him fully, faces now inches apart as you stared right into each other's eyes. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken when your orbs held a certain spark, as if you could see the actual him right behind the mask. His eyes fell on your lips, slightly parted as you gawked at him. They look really soft, very pretty, inviting.

He gulped.

At that point Peter wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that he was wearing a mask. Because if he wasn't, then he would've already done something he might regret—or not—later on, especially with the consequences that would come with it.

But when you opened your mouth to start to speak, that's when Peter grew even more nervous on what could possibly be running in your thoughts.

Did you figure it out?

You didn't get a chance to say whatever it was you wanted to say when all movements stopped, Peter releasing you from his hold right as you felt your feet touch the ground.

"That was mean," you said once you gently pulled away from him. "You said you wouldn't let me go," you added, adjusting your hair and clothes before you shot him a pout.

"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. It was a full on accident, mind preoccupied by all things you that he unconsciously loosened his grip around your waist which in turn, made you slip out of his grasp. "I'll always catch you though."

You pursed your lips at him with a tilt of your head. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you're flirting with me, Spider-Man."

Peter felt the heat rush up to his face in a split second. "I-I'm, uh—"

"Whoa," you cut him off once your eyes landed on the gorgeous city of Manhattan but much farther away and wider as you stood on a much higher building. The tall structures that surrounded the scene seemed like toys with their size, the lights that gleamed looking like little specks of stars floating in the air with the Empire State Building right at the middle of it all. "I haven't seen it this high up before," you said, giving him a swift glance before your eyes were back on the scenery. "It's really beautiful."

"Yeah, very beautiful," Peter sighed, brown orbs never leaving your features, his heart thumping in his chest, loud and fast, each beat all for you.

He walked over to where you were stood until your arms were brushing against each other. You spared him a glance, your smile wide and soft in a way that made his heart grow warm. But then you leaned your head on his shoulder and Peter swore he might as well die from a heart attack. If it were you with the enhanced senses, then you would probably catch him out quickly with how frantic and loud each beat his heart was making.

It wasn't new to him of course. You've always been the affectionate kind. And being your best friend, he's always at the receiving end of those affections.

But tonight feels a little different.

The fact that you feel safe around him without having to see his face, when all you see is Spider-Man, it makes his heart melt. The simple fact that you're comfortable when you're near him, that you can feel that you can trust him is really reassuring in a sense. It's like your heart is already familiar with who he is despite your brain—or your eyes—telling you that the person you're standing with right now is a complete stranger.

It feels really special when looking at it in that perspective, it makes Peter feel special.

Sudden boldness coursing through his bones, Peter snaked an arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in the process. It took every ounce of his superhuman strength to keep his legs upright when you inched closer to his side, a soft breath coming out of you, a satisfied one. His eyes glowed with utmost adoration as it traced your features, from the soft smile playing on your lips to the twinkle in those irises as you kept your gaze on the stunning city in front. It baffles him how his heart quickened it's pace even more, just the sight of you in pure bliss. God he was so in love with you and you don't even have an ounce of clue.

Just say it out loud, tell her.

No, I can't. For her, I can't.

"It's getting late. I should probably head back home," you hummed, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. Peter nodded, arm dropping to your waist as he crouched down a little, just so you could sling an arm around his shoulder. "No dropping me this time," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him teasingly.

Peter laughed with a nod. "Yes ma'am."

The swing back to your apartment building took no time.

Despite wanting to drag the night out a little longer, Peter knew he can't do that to you when your debate was tomorrow, especially among countless papers and homework he knows you need to get to. Plus, he has his own errands he needs to tend to as well. Both of you landed on the ledge smoothly with you laughing at some bad joke he made. Peter helped you down like the gentle man that he is and giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said as you turned to his figure that remained standing on the ledge. Nothing but a wide, genuine smile played on your lips as you added, "Everything of tonight."

"Don't mention it," Peter said sweetly. "I had a really great time with you—shit. I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything but I really did enjoy tonight, you know, our conversation, getting close with you and feeling you close to me while we were swinging...okay, I'll stop talking."

You let out the sweetest giggle that Peter could do nothing but swoon, his eyes softening as he tilted his head at you with the most adoring smile he could ever have the pleasure of wearing.

"I had a great time being close with you, too," you hummed, holding his gaze for a moment before you casted your eyes at the ground shyly. Shifting from your heels and toes, you pointed towards the rooftop door, before timidly meeting his eyes again. "I should probably—"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter chuckled, shooting you a curt nod. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spider-Man," you said, swiftly turning around as you went towards the door, giving him one last glance over your shoulder when you pulled it open. He gave you a wave in response, your smile widening before you slipped inside and closed the door right behind you.

Peter had the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face that he don't think he could ever wipe off, eyes fluttering close as he spread his arms wide. With a satisfied breath, he slowly leaned backwards, letting gravity take its course as pure euphoria coated every fiber of his being.

Never has he ever felt such joy, freedom and utmost content as Peter lets himself fall.

***

"Hello there."

Peter looked up from his notes only to be met by a set of green eyes, completely taking him by surprise since it wasn't the pair of orbs he was expecting—and really excited—to see. It confused him to the core as to why one of the most popular girls on campus was sitting down right in front of him in the library.

"Hi?" he said, word coming out more as a question than a statement as he furrowed his brows.

"Peter right? Marjorie," she introduced, hand coming across the table to which he shook gingerly.

"Yeah, that's me." Peter smiled shyly, the crease on his forehead deepening the more he raked his brain as to why she's talking to him in the first place. Of course he knows who she is, the whole school does. Hell, he can already hear the whispers of gossip echoing about all because she's sitting right at his table, or as a matter of fact, simply because she's in the room. That's how big of a deal she is.

Marjorie moved forward, both her arms resting on the table with her bust right on top of it, the low cut top she wore doing so little to hide it, cleavage right up his face. Peter was quick to look away with a clear of his throat, eyes trained on his notes as a blush coated his cheeks.

She suddenly brought two fingers under his chin, prompting him to look back up. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you pretty boy," she purred, a sly smirk growing on her lips when his blush deepened. She inched closer until she was fully leaning over the table and into his space, her thumb running across his chin teasingly. Peter's eyes grew wide in downright surprise and confusion, keeping his gaze locked with hers and never looking anywhere else—mostly not looking down—as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Anyway, I heard you're really smart and I happen to find you really cute too. Not just a pretty face, aren't you Peter. So, I was wondering—"

Peter could feel you coming, hear you even, that all too familiar sound of your giddy and specifically patterned footsteps ringing in his ears. And dare he say it, he could smell your shampoo, the scent gradually growing stronger which was a clear indication that you were getting closer to the library.

He was left downright confused when you only stopped at the door, your heartbeat quickening by a mile as you stilled. Peter grew worried at the uneven sound of your breathing, all shallow and labored, the first thing that happens whenever you're in slight panic. He removed his eyes briefly from the girl across him only to see you turn on your heel in one swift motion and then completely disappearing from sight.

What was wrong? Where were you going?

"I, uh, I'm really sorry but I need to go." Peter quickly pulled his face away from Marjorie's hand, standing up from his seat all while shoving his things in his backpack. "I-It was nice meeting you," he said with a small smile before he sprinted towards the door.

He didn't see you anywhere near the building, didn't see you anywhere on campus at all.

It worried him even more when you ignored his texts and calls for the rest of the day. He knew your schedule but somehow, the moment he reached your class, you were already gone. Or maybe you hadn't even attended class in the first place. There was no other way of him knowing your whereabouts and he was growing really concerned by the second as to what had happened. So, he went with the last option he could think of on finding you quicker.

Peter slipped his mask on with a sigh, the sun already going down when he decided to try and pay you a visit in a very different set of clothes.

***

"Hi."

"What the fu—" You jumped with a yelp as you swiftly turned to face him, hand over your chest to try and calm your heart as you gaped at his masked face. "What are you doing here?"

Three times he's passed your apartment building and you weren't home. But by the fourth try, Peter's worry could only grow some more when he saw you out on the rooftop. You never stay out on the rooftop unless something was deeply bothering you.

"Wanted to know how the debate went," Peter reasoned, not the main agenda but it wasn't entirely a lie either.

"Well, my team won so that's great," you sighed dejectedly, leaning down to rest your elbow on the ledge while your chin landed on your palm.

"You don't seem enthusiastic? You still don't think I'm a friend?"

"No, no, I do now. It's just things in here." You tapped your temple, letting out another sigh when you brought your finger down to your chest, right where your heart is supposed to be and added, "Or in here rather."

Peter frowned. "What's up?"

"Who knew Spider-Man was into gossip," you teased, turning to flash him a small smile.

"Just curios," he hummed with a casual shrugged, settling himself down on the ledge, facing you this time around. "Besides, it's always better to let it out."

"It's just boy problems," you breathed out, eyes back on the orange tinted sky.

Peter felt a lump grow in his throat, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of you thinking about another guy. He was quick to scold himself, telling his mind not to be selfish as he cleared his throat.

"Hit me."

"Well, there's this boy I like—" you stopped yourself, lips pursed as you started to fidget with your fingers, thinking face that Peter knows so well now in full play. "Actually no, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember," you admitted.

The ache in Peter's heart grew sharper, painful and overwhelming that he felt his body run cold. His throat grew dry that he could do nothing but nod his head with a hum to tell you he's still following.

"He's amazing, greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and he has never failed to show that he cares about me. He's always there for me, whenever he can anyway with his hectic life. And he makes me really happy." A love-struck smile grew on your lips, eyes glowing with adoration, face holding that look of love as you bask in the sunset. The golden glow made you look even more stunning, but Peter wasn't able to fully appreciate your beauty when his mind was too preoccupied with jealous thoughts. But a second later, the joy that's coated your features slowly faded off, now replaced by one with worry.

Peter tried his best to keep his tone steady. Despite having the voice modulator on, he knows it will pick up even the slightest shake and uncertainty. "But?"

"I truly can't figure out if he's acting the way he is because he feels the same way or all of it is just an act of friendship," you paused, taking in a deep breath as you shifted on your feet. "There are moments where I do think it's more but then there are moments where I see him with another girl and I start questioning it again. Like, am I reading things wrong? Am I getting too ahead of myself by thinking he could possibly feel the same way?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I don't even know how to convey my own feelings—"

"You could just tell him," Peter blurted to cut you off, not wanting to hear any more as the piercing pain in his chest could only deepen the more you talk about it. He's already got the drift anyway, no need for you to explain any further.

You turned to look at him fully with furrowed brows. "Just like that?"

Peter nodded. "You are an amazing girl Y/N," he said, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice. He just wants you to find someone who's going to make you happy and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seems like you've found exactly that, who was he to take that away from you by being bitter? Besides, Peter has long accepted that that someone is never going to be him. "Whoever this guy you're in love with, he's pretty lucky. If he doesn't see that then it's his loss. And if he doesn't feel the same way, then he's not the right guy for you because you deserve someone who'll love you unconditionally."

"You giving out relationship advice now too? A sideline if you're not saving the world?" you joked, only earning a shrug and a soft laugh from him. "But thank you." You flashed him a small but grateful smile.

"Always happy to help," he said. "I better get going, got a city to look after." Peter forced a smile, a useless tactic given that there was no way for you to see it anyway. He stood up to his full height before adding, "Congrats on the debate." He didn't even wait for a response when he swiftly jumped and swung as far away from your building as possible.

The second he landed on top of an abandoned warehouse, Peter immediately pulled his mask off. He couldn’t bear to leave it on a second longer or else he was going to suffocate. Sharp breaths escaped him as his back hit the brick wall, eyes screwed shut to stop any tear from slipping out of his burning eyes. He tried his hardest to calm his frantic heart, to minimize the pain by shoving his selfish thoughts away. He forced himself to think about you and your well-being instead, tried to convince himself that this was a good thing.

He doesn't doubt that this guy you're smitten with is a great one. The way you speak about him just screams it. Add that to you being great at judging character, then he knows you're in good hands. Despite it hurting like a ton of punches in the chest, Peter still hoped that whoever this guy is, he'll catch you in his arms openly and shower you with the truest love because you deserve nothing but. The pain would be worth it if he gets to see you be happy.

Peter knows that whoever this guy is, he would treat you rightly, give you everything you want and need in a way that Peter never could.

Slowly opening his eyes, he lets out a calming breath, mind slowly slipping at ease the more he thinks about how happy, content and safe you'll be with this guy if ever it will work out.

It hurts, unbearably, but his sliver of pain in exchange for your utmost happiness? Then Peter will gladly endure it.

***

The next day, Saturday noon, was when you finally decided to answer Peter's texts from the day before. You apologized for ghosting him, said you got preoccupied and left it at that. And then you asked if he wanted to go for a little stroll in the park, too make it up to him. Peter could never say no to you so here you were, side by side under the afternoon sun, aimlessly walking around a nearly deserted park outskirts of the main city.

"Why'd you disappear yesterday?" he asked, both his hands in his pockets while yours were looped in his. "I saw you stop by at the library but you didn't come and say hi."

You shrugged, eyes trained on the pavement as you kicked at the few rocks that were lying around. "Something came up," you simply said.

Peter can't help but feel a little sting when you didn't elaborate further. Well, he already knew what had happened but that was as Spider-Man. He was hoping you'd tell him too, as Peter Parker, your long time best friend.

"Thank you for the email by the way," you spoke again when he stayed quiet, lifting your head up to spare him a bright smile. "We wouldn't have won the debate if it wasn't for you."

"Winning the debate was all on you and that incredible brain of yours. I'm not going to take credit for that," he chuckled as he shot you a knowing look. Eyes back in front, Peter added, "But I'm always here to help. That's what best friends are for."

You hummed, letting go of his arm as you skipped ahead and treaded towards the nearest tree. "What's up with you and Marjorie?" you asked, settling down on the grass, legs straight with your right ankle over you left as you leaned back against the trunk comfortably.

"What's up with what?" Peter followed you with a deep crease between his brows, sitting right beside you soon after, mirroring your position under the shade.

"You tell me, you were almost kissing when I saw you in the library so," you trailed off, picking at the shreds of greenery, throwing it purposelessly as you still avoided his gaze. "Are you two a thing now?"

Peter shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "First off, we were not almost kissing and second, no, we're not a thing," he clarified, head turned for him to see you clearly. "I didn't even get to hear what she wanted because I immediately left," he chuckled.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You bailed on her in the library?"

"Sort of?" Peter scrunched his nose.

"That's a very bold move, Parker," you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his teasingly. "Most guys would've died to just be in the same room as her."

Peter let out a hearty laugh, shrugging his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I'm not like most guys."

Marjorie was pretty, Peter won't deny that, but she could never amount to you. Even right now, when you're just sitting beside him in casual jeans and sweater, a simple but very charming smile on your lips as you looked up at the clouds, Peter was already swooning ten times over. Then comes the memory of you looking so breathtaking while he took you around the city. The stunning glow on your face as you stared at the scene in awe was still deeply engraved in Peter's mind, and he knows for a fact that that image will never leave him. Not that he was complaining anyway.

"So, how did your meeting with Spider-Man go?" he asked after a few moments of silence. A shy smile slowly grew on your lips, one that made Peter lift a brow at you in suspicion.

"He's really cool," you breathed out, your grin growing wider as you kept your gaze steadily trained at the blue sky. "He's a gentleman too, a little shy and awkward but in a cute way. Plus, very wise and smart, like lived-a-life wise and genius smart. He then took me to swing around the city which was awesome," you gushed, a dreamy glow coating your face as you met Peter's eyes. "That night is going to be a night I'll remember for the rest of my life for sure."

Peter couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you have a crush on Spider-Man," he teased, wriggling his brows at you.

"Shut up," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"It's obvious. You have that dreamy look on your face when you talk about him," he poked even more, nudging you with his elbow playfully.

"No, I don't," you laughed as you pushed him away. "Besides, I've got my eyes on someone else already."

Peter's heart sunk.

He found himself playing with the sleeves of his hoodie as he avoided your gaze, trying his hardest to keep his feelings at bay before you'd notice the change in his demeanor. "Care to share with your best friend?" he offered, wondering if you're finally willing to tell him about this mystery guy.

You stayed quiet, eyes fluttering close as you rested your head on his shoulder. Peter kept his gaze steady on you, everything else silent aside from the sound of the rustling leaves of the tree. But then you let out a nervous breath, heartbeat picking up the pace in a way that made Peter grow curious as to what's on your mind.

"I love you," you blurted out of the blue, a slight shake in your voice as you kept your eyes shut.

Although confused, Peter responded, "I love you too—"

"No, Peter," you paused, shifting in your place, pulling away from him as you sat up straighter. You finally met his brown orbs, all while countless of emotions swam in yours. "I love you," you whispered but with your voice firm and laced with pure sincerity, eyes holding his with such intensity that he quickly understood.

Peter stared at you in shock.

Slowly, but surely, everything started to click inside his head. The confession you shared with Spider-Man. When you said you'd seen this guy with another girl...the library. Was that why you quickly ran out? When you saw...almost kissing. Was that the reason why your heart suddenly grew at panic?

The guy you were gushing about so fondly, the same one you said you were in love with for a long time now, the one Peter was growing jealous of...it was him.

You were talking about him, Peter Parker.

He grew at a loss for words as he gawked at you, a smile growing on his lips as he felt his heart stop its course and then beat again but with twice the pace. Peter was so happy, over the universe as pure warmth filled him up from head to toe. The mere thought that you felt the same, it was too good to be true. But it was, he can see it clear in your eyes, it was real.

You love him.

But then his mood was quick to shift, smile slipping off his face, the warmth and joy that coated his bones replaced by fear and worry in a snap of a finger.

Peter's heart stopped at the sight in front of him.

You were getting held at knifepoint by the throat, tears brimming in your eyes, more of it coating your cheeks as you clawed at the arm that trapped you in their vise hold.

"P-Peter, I love you," you whimpered, gaze locking with his, hope slipping out of your orbs, the glow they once held getting dimmer by the second in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Then Peter heard it, that piercing cackle he knew too well, his brown eyes meeting the yellow ones that glowed right behind you.

"You won't be able to save the love of your life, Spider-Man...or should I say, Peter Parker!"

Peter shook his head frantically as he yelled out your name, running at full speed to get to you only to be met by sudden darkness, your heart wrenching scream ringing in his ears followed by an agonizing sound of a body hitting the floor. Peter's blood ran cold as he frantically called out your name, over and over and over yet nothing but eerie silence echoed back at him.

And then he looked down, eyes landing on his trembling hands, each finger, both palms coated with blood, your blood.

You were gone.

"No, no, no," Peter rushed, voice quivering, hastily getting up on his feet as he looked at you worryingly. "You can't, Y/N. You can't love me."

It's not safe for you to love me.

The look of pure pain that ghosted over you features squeezed at Peter's heart, the pit in his stomach ever growing the more he thought of what he was about to do.

You stood up shakily to be level with him, deep frown on your lips, confusion and hurt swimming in your eyes as you asked, "Why'd you seem disgusted? You could just say you don't feel the same way."

"N-No, it's not that, neither of that because—" he sucked in a sharp breath, a hand running through his hair as he stared into your eyes longingly. "I do feel the same way about you."

You screwed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "Please don't lie to make me feel better, Peter," you pleaded, the break in your voice a sharp stab at his chest.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Peter internally winced at his bold and very false claim. Nothing but guilt filled his stomach given that he lies to you almost every day. He lies to you about his whereabouts, lies to you about his reasons. Peter lies to you every goddamn day by not telling you he's Spider-Man.

"Then why are your actions speaking something else then?" You gestured towards him as a whole, at the obvious distance that he's put between you two. Your eyes were slowly glossing up as you tried to simply understand what was going on.

Peter sighed, "I just don't want to hurt you okay? I—I don't want you to lose faith on the things you love because of me."

I don't want you to lose your life because of me.

"You're not making any sense," you said frustratedly.

"I'm not qualified to be a good boyfriend, Y/N. I won't be there with you all the time. I'd probably cancel on you on so many dates," Peter paused, meeting your eyes so you could see where he was coming from. "Hell, how many times have I bailed on you right now as your best friend huh? The amount of times I've left you on the street to go home alone?"

Your frown deepened as you held his eyes with nothing but sadness. "You had things going on Peter. You're being really unfair on yourself," you said.

"But you still don't deserve to be treated like that. Not now, not ever, no matter the reason," he pushed. "You deserve all those romantic clichés you're always dreaming of, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. You deserve the whole world Y/N, but I won't be able to give you that." Peter's voice broke, eyes holding too many emotions as he kept his gaze steady with yours. A painful task with all the pain and betrayal that's coated your eyes, utmost hurt glaring right at him. "Being with me won't be a fairytale."

Peter wasn't ignorant to the fact that you were a hopeless romantic. The countless rom-coms you've watched together have long ago proved that. The specific look in your eyes, that certain glimmer that washes over your face whenever the couple would kiss under the snow or even in the rain, or whenever they'd go on romantic walks on the beach or simply be in each other's arm whenever it's needed, Peter has memorized it. The little changes in your face whenever you see those clichés, he knows it like the back of his hand, knows how you're craving that kind of simple but true love.

But Peter can't give you any of that. Not right now.

"But I don't want a fairytale. I want to be with you. I don't care if we don't get to do any romantic clichés, being with you would surpass all of that, being with you would be more than enough. And I'm willing to try and make it work with whatever you've got going on, even if I have to make sacrifices in the process. Why can't you see that Peter?" you argued, hands clenched into fists on your sides in mere frustration.

Peter winced, the word sacrifice too heavy for him to hear. It was too painful to even fathom what you would possibly sacrifice for him, that you would probably even sacrifice all of it for him, including your life.

"No, no, please don't," he begged. "I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me. I would never want you to sacrifice those little things that make you smile. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness for me." Peter shook his head in utter distress, palm rubbing at his face harshly that had the tip of his nose turn red. "And what happens then if it doesn't work? You'll only get disappointed. You'll only end up hating me. By then, I would have already put you through so much hurt all for nothing. I don't want that for you, Y/N."

"How'd you know that when you haven't even tried?" you whispered, bottom lip trembling. "It's like you're not even willing to try," you whimpered.

The second Peter saw the single tear that ran down your cheek he instinctively moved closer, hands reaching out, desperate to hold you, to get to tell you it's going to be alright, to apologize over and over for all the pain he has caused. But you stopped him with the palm of your hand. He felt his heart drop the moment you took a step back, shaking your head, bottom lip desperately caught between your teeth to silence your sobs.

Peter nodded gravely, his arms falling limp by his sides, fully understanding that you don't want him near. He doesn't blame you by one bit. "It's not that I'm not willing to, I just," he paused as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't trust myself to be with you. I don't trust myself with your heart because I know I will only end up breaking it. I'll only let you down." I don't trust myself to keep you safe from harm. I'll only fail you just like how I failed them. Peter confessed, brown orbs turning glossy, all from a mixture of pain and anger. He was so angry at himself for putting you through all this hurt, you don't deserve it, not even a single ounce of it.

Yes, he can try, see where this will go and do his best to be there for you at all times. But that's not set on stone, never a clear promise because he doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to bring. He doesn't know if he's staying in the neighborhood one minute and then entering another dimension the next. Being Spider-Man, he doesn't have a schedule where Peter can organize things as a matter of priority, being Spider-Man requires its own sets of sacrifices. Peter doesn't want you to feel the burden of those sacrifices, too.

He doesn't doubt that you would be understanding enough with whatever it is he has going on but that's exactly the problem. He knows you'll take the bare minimum, you'll put him first above your wants and needs. You're just too kind that way, too big of a heart. But Peter can't have that because it's just not right; it's not what you should settle for. You deserve all the dates, all the romantic walks, all the cuddles and kisses whenever you're down, all the stress free nights where you don't have to worry about him or wait for him to come back to you safe and unharmed, all the time and effort, you deserve all of it and more.

And right now, Peter can't give you what you deserve.

"Or maybe you just don't love me in the way you say you do," you accused, voice soft but the sting in it sharp.

"That's not fucking true because I love you with every ounce of my being," he protested in low growl, desperately tugging at his hair, frustrated that he can't tell you his full reasons as to why exactly he can't be with you. "I love you too much and I want to be with you so badly—"

"Then why is that not enough?" you stressed.

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" you snapped, tears running freely down your face as you looked at him with utmost despair.

"It's not that fucking simple Y/N!" Peter saw you flinch at the sudden boom of his voice, his heart cracking at the sight. He felt everything in him gradually break the more you stared at him with nothing but anguish. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he slips out any words that he'll only regret later on. Blowing out his cheeks, he croaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—"

Peter tried again and walked closer to you, trembling hands slowly reaching in mere need to feel your skin on his to ground him back, relief washing over him when you let him. He felt his heart warm up a little when you didn't pull away from his touch. But the broken sob you let out when he cupped your face, it was too excruciating for him to hear. The agonizing grip on Peter's heart tightened as he stared right into your eyes, the same ones that once held so much joy but was now flooded with tears and grief, their gorgeous glow snuffed out, all because of him.

"I'm just trying to protect you, please, trust me on that," he whispered, not even trying to hide the brokenness in his voice anymore, not even trying to hold back his tears as Peter pressed his forehead against yours.

The little droplets fell down on your face, his tears joining yours on your already damp skin. His thumb oh so tenderly tried to wipe them all away, wishing that it was as easy as that to ease up your pain, to take away your hurt so simply, but he knows it wasn't. It wasn't an easy choice and Peter knows it never will be.

"I love you so much, don't you ever, ever doubt that. B-But we can't. I'm really sorry Y/N, but we can't be together. I-I know this hurts right now, trust me, I know, but I will only make it much worse," he choked, shaking his head when you leaned into his palm with a broken breath. But you kept your eyes open, held his gaze with utter strength and Peter saw it, saw how you still looked at him with love in your eyes. Despite it being mixed with pain, it was there, clear and honest. God he did not fucking deserve you at all.

"You deserve someone who'd treat you the way you deserve to be treated, someone who'd truly show you how it feels to be loved completely and not just the bare minimum. You deserve someone who'd be so much better than me." Peter's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes still holding yours just so you could see the other things he can't put into words, the things he couldn't say aloud. He was desperately, silently pleading that you would see right through him, so you could understand why he has to do this. "Maybe in another life, we could make this work. But right now I'm asking, begging you not to love me, because I don't deserve that love, I don't deserve you at all."

Peter practically saw your heart shatter into pieces even more with the simple look in your eyes. It's an absolute torture to look into them right now, to see you be so broken that he found himself wishing that it was only him in pain instead. Even though the thought hurts, he wished you didn't love him. Even though it would be painful to endure, to live in a world where his feelings aren't reciprocated, Peter wished you didn't love him at all if it meant it was going to save you from heartbreak.

Better him in pain than you, always.

Breath unsteady, you closed your eyes with a small nod. "I guess this is it," you sniffled, placing your hands over his, your touch tender as you gave it a squeeze. But then you pulled it away from your face, Peter's hands slipping off your skin as you put some much needed distance between you two.

"Y/N—"

"I don't think we can go back to the way things were after this Peter. I'm sorry I just—I don't think I can handle it." You shook your head with a soft cry, forcing yourself to look back into those brown orbs as you whispered, "I can’t take it."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes casted on the grass with a solemn nod as he croaked out, "Then I guess this is it."

"Goodbye, Peter."

He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of your broken voice, the heartbreaking sob that followed soon after made him let out a shaky breath. The sound of your footsteps felt like gunshots, each step taken like a bullet wounding him deep but Peter didn't dare to respond, didn't even dare to look up as you briskly walked away.

Peter had to keep his head down because he didn't have enough strength, didn't have the sense of control to stay still in his place. He knows that if he does as much as look up and catch your figure, he'll run after you, full speed. He'll pull you back into his arms; he'll pour all his love into one kiss as he holds you tightly. He'll keep you in his embrace for eternity the moment he gives in into his selfish needs. But he shouldn't. He needs to let you go, he has to let you walk away, for your sake.

The farther the sound of your footsteps got, the tighter his fists grew, fingernails digging into his palms as his breathing became labored, harsh. Peter swiftly turned around and took a hard swing at the tree once you were gone, glad that no one was around to see the whole thing shake from his strength. The bark cracked under his knuckle, leaves falling around him just as his knees gave out. A sharp, broken, frustrated scream escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, body shaking with all the anger and pain, trembling from his heart wrenching sobs.

Peter felt like his lungs were about to give out, emotions overflowing and scorching all while feeling numb just the same. But he kept reminding himself why he's doing this for him to get by, kept telling himself that being far apart was for the best.

For your sake.

***

The wind was cold on your face as you stood out on the rooftop to escape. The night breeze was slowly drying up your tears, much to no use since it's replaced by fresh ones the second after anyway. You don't know how long you've been crying for, but it wouldn't really matter. Your tears could run out but the pain in your heart could only deepen with each ticking second.

You were worried, angry, hurt, frustrated and confused all the same, unable to tie everything together as it all just seemed like a whole jumbled mess in your head, an incomplete puzzle.

You're not naïve to think that there wasn't more to this than he's letting on. You know he was hiding bits and pieces, his words completely restrained. You saw it in his eyes how he was battling his mind. You saw how he was struggling to not slip out whatever it was he was holding back. It was painful, all of it, from seeing him so distressed to him breaking your heart with his care-filled yet hurtful words.

You get where he's coming from, about wanting you to experience it all and more and not just the bare minimum. If it was a different circumstance, the things he said would've been sweet, how he wants you to have the world, how he wants you to live all those clichés just so he could see you smile, see you be happy. But right now, his words just felt bittersweet since you lost him in the process.

All those days of imagining all the different scenarios on what it would look like, how it would feel when he admits he feels the same way, not once did you ever expect that Peter Parker saying he loves you would feel like a knife to the heart.

What hurts even more is the fact that he is so keen on shutting any chance, and sliver of hope down. He won't even try, like you're not worth any risks at all. It makes you question how important you actually are to him, makes you question if he really does love you in the way he claims he does.

"Ahem."

"Shit!" you squeaked, head snapping towards the squatted figure, eyes landing on the familiar masked man who seemed to like the element of surprise. "You need to stop doing that!"

"Sorry, should've given you a heads up," he apologized, voice sounding a little hoarse, a little...different.

"No shit," you grumbled, hastily wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your sweater before you turned back to face him. "What's brought you here?"

"Was just in the neighborhood, saw you out here and I thought I'd swing by," he said with a casual shrug, gaze steady on the building across. You did just the same as you turned back in front, fingers drumming on the concrete ledge as you stood in silence for a couple minutes, his company soothing in some odd way. But you welcome it, makes you feel more present, stopping you from slipping neck deep into the chaos that's in your head.

"You okay? You seem a bit down," he said, voice still a little gruff, eyes everywhere else but at you.

"Well, I guess you can say that," you breathed out.

"Want to talk about it?"

You bit your bottom lip when it started to tremble, a fresh batch of tears brimming in your eyes. "I told him," you whispered. "You know that friend I talked to you about? I told him I'm in love with him and he wasn't too happy with it. He pushed me away, I—" You shook your head with a shaky breath, eyes now trained on the busy street below. You swallowed the lump in your throat before adding, "He said he loved me but he pushed me away."

The superhero beside you cleared out his throat, shifting in his place until he was fully seated down, his legs hanging off the side of the building. "Did he tell you why?"

"He said he wouldn't be a good boyfriend and that he won't be there for me when I need him. He said I deserved better, which doesn't make any sense because he's already been doing that, being there for me. And I have no doubt he'd treat me rightly but he doesn't seem to believe that himself," you whimpered, harshly wiping away the tears that rushed out your eyes, not wanting to seem pathetic for a boy, not to seem weak in front of the masked hero.

"Hey, you don't have to act all tough for me," he reassured, hand coming up to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze for a short but sweet moment. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't mean you're weak."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, flashing him a sad smile for a second before you stared back at the city. "And I get he's got a lot going on, I do too but what's painful is that he's not even willing to try and see if it would work or not. It hurts to think that I'm willing to try and make ends meet, that I would do anything to be with him, but he won't do the same for me. It makes me feel like I'm not worth fighting for, that I'm not enough."

"That's not true, Y/N," he whispered, almost as if didn't want you to hear it, your brows furrowing a little as you spared him a glance. He was already looking at you but the second your eyes landed on his face, he swiftly looked away. "What else did he say?" he asked swiftly, voice louder with a clear of his throat.

"He said he can't be with me because he didn't want to hurt me which sounds so fucking stupid since he's hurting me now. Really badly," you whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you screwed your eyes shut, taking in deep calming breaths, steadying yourself before you opened them again.

"Maybe he is just trying to look out for you," he started, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a shaky breath. "Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to keep them at a safe distance, to not get too close to them, both physically but mostly emotionally."

You frowned, gaze landing back on the white fabric that's covered his eyes. "You do that too? Push people away?"

"I don't want to but I have to," he sighed, looking down at his hands like they were too heavy, like they hold so much weight over his life, caused him so much trouble and pain. He stared at them for a few seconds more before his fingers started to pick at his web shooters. "It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe."

"Because of all the bad guys chasing after you?"

He let out a soft chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

You turned to face him fully, deep frown still etched on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Does that not get lonely?"

"It does." He nodded dejectedly, his eyes still looking elsewhere. "But it's better than seeing the ones I love get hurt because of the sole reason that they love me and that I love them just as much, if not more. Once they find out who I am, they're going to use that against me. They will always use that against me." The pain and hurt that coated his voice in his last sentence, you heard it loud and clear, makes you wonder what hardships he could've gone through to feel this way. "I think it's best to keep them away from this side of my world. I admit, it's really hard for me to stay away but I just keep reminding myself that all I'm doing is trying to keep them safe as much as I can," he paused, turning his head to finally look at you and you felt your heart stop at his next set of words.

"I'm just trying to protect them."

You felt as though that the clouds cleared up above your head, the puzzle pieces falling into place, completing itself as you slowly and finally tied everything together.

All those times he's suddenly in a rush to leave with a half-assed reason, the times where you'd catch a glimpse of the random cuts and bruises he had on his body, it all became so clear. And the night you first met Spider-Man, that odd feeling you had when he squeezed your hand the first time, it finally made sense. That same night, you felt as though you were crazy when you found yourself gravitating towards a complete stranger, a masked superhero at that. You found it ridiculous how you felt like you could trust him right off the bat. When you felt a vast feeling of being safe around him in so little time, initially you told yourself that it wasn't a good thing, that it was dangerous and you should tread carefully, but now the feeling just felt awfully familiar.

That's when you fully understood everything. The knots in your head gradually untangled itself as you gawked at him, mouth slightly agape in pure shock, tears welling up in your eyes for a different reason this time. All the things he's been through, all the pain and grief from the people he's lost, the weight that the world has put on his shoulders, it made your heartbreak. It made you feel so guilty that you weren't there for him through all that.

A new found weight settled itself in your chest because as you stared right at the mask, you saw him.

"Well, I need to go. You know, got a city to look after," he chuckled shyly as he looked away, his voice sounding starkly different from the previous encounters as it now held a sense of familiarity. "See you later."

With that, he jumped off, your eyes following the red in blue under the night sky, gradually getting smaller until disappearing from sight.

You smiled, a small one, didn't quite reach your ears but it was genuine. Your heart was still aching, mostly for him than for you, but it was also now filled with the greatest pride as you whispered, just under your breath,

"See you later, Peter Parker."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! tell me your thoughts! <3

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[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

a second chance

pairing: thor odinson x reader

word count: 1,757

request: @clownerlyluv asked - if you write for thor, could do you a fluffy fic about the reader's and his arranged marriage? :))

warnings: thor basically ignoring reader and her feelings at first, choosing jane over reader, asgardian mead, getting drunk

summary: you and thor's arranged marriage does not work out until it does. :)

author's note: I honestly loved this idea and had a lot of fun writing it, so thank you for requesting!

You had known early on that your father and Allfather Odin did much business together, attending many of his parties and becoming well-versed in the royal life. You were not royal yourself, no, but your family was on the wealthier side of Asgard, and was well-respected. The people of Asgard knew your family name and in turn, you made it a task of yours to at least know everyone in Asgard; they were all so kind and welcoming that you could not help but be respectful in return.

Because of your time spent around the royal family, you had grown to know Allfather Odin and Allmother Frigga sons, Thor and Loki. When you three were kids, you would always cause havoc within the palace, forcing the guards to have an eye on all of you at all times. However, over time, your closeness slowly dissipated and it seemed as though you three were strangers. Oddly so, you and Loki conversed much more when you were older, compared to you and Thor.

Thor had always been arrogant and loud, while Loki was reserved and quiet – which was probably why you two talked more than the other brother. You never disliked Thor, no! If anything, you’d say you have been chasing after him since you were kids, your childhood crush developing into one that caused you to admire Thor every second of every day.

So, when word was passed onto you and Loki about Jane of Midgard, well…your heart broke. You knew Thor never belonged to you, and he most likely never saw you as a potential wife in the future, but knowing that there was another woman, a mortal at that, you knew you had a reason to cry. You had tried to fall in love, to convince your heart to fall for someone else besides the god of Thunder, but it would not budge; you loved Thor, but he did not love you.

And that was the hardest pill you had to swallow when looking at him in front of you, seeming so disinterested, disengaged, that he had an arranged marriage with you.

Did you ever see this coming? No, absolutely not. Marriage to Thor was something you wanted, or at least dreamt of, but not like this – not forced. He clearly was unhappy about his father’s decision to marry you both, and you hated seeing him like this.

You wanted nothing but the best for Thor, but this was not the way to go about it. The vows seemed fake, written by someone else for you both, and the whole occasion within itself was just…awkward. After sealing your marriage, becoming Princess of Asgard, line to the throne after Odin handed over his kingship to Thor, the party began.

Asgardian Mead was tossed around, getting almost everyone drunk except you and Loki – Thor had immediately begun drinking once formalities were over.

Sitting on some stairs before they sunk into the dining hall of the palace, Loki shifted his gaze toward you, “feeling a bit melancholy, are we, Lady Y/N?”

You huffed towards the younger brother, “I am in no mood for your riddles, Loki.”

Loki went quiet for a few seconds before he continued, “would you prefer to talk about it? About all of this?”

You picked at your beautiful dress, skin softly grazing over the design pattern as you seemed more interested in that than anything else, “he doesn’t – nor will he ever – want me as his wife. I am not enough for him.”

Loki grasped your hand from picking at your dress, “my brother is an idiot, and it may take him a while to realize what a beautiful woman he has in front of him. He just needs time to move on from Jane; be patient, Y/N.”

You wished you could smile at Loki, but it was more of a grimace as you squeezed his hand, “I just wish there was something I could do for him, for him to – to love me as a wife, like a queen.”

The younger one nodded, agreeing with you, “and in due time, he will. He just has to use that embarrassingly small brain of his.” At that, the two of you giggled like Asgardian school girls.

Throughout the night, more and more party-goers seemed to feel the effects of the mead and headed home, saying goodbye to their future King and Queen. Your friends had already left, but not without telling you that they were going to spoil their future ruler the next day – that put a smile on your face.

Thor had been loud and boisterous all night, cheering to things that made no sense and yelling gibberish. As the night settled down, you took it upon yourself to bring Thor to your now shared chambers, telling him that there would be more mead tomorrow. With that, he wasted no time slipping your arm into his and making his way down the hall with clumsy footing.

Along the way, Thor and you sort of conversed – his words were so mixed together that you could barely understand what he was saying, but from what you gathered, he was happy. He was happy to see his friends and have a great time, and he was happy to see you dressed up so beautifully, just for him.

That had made a blush form upon your cheeks.

Entering your chambers, you helped Thor undress until he was left in undergarments, comfortable enough for sleep, as you took off the many necklaces his friends had put upon his neck. Once you were finished, he grasped your hand, rubbing it gently.

Your cheeks heated up, “are you alright, Thor?” His eyes grew glossy as he nodded, “I-I am, you looked so, so beautiful tonight, Lady Y/N… the beautifullest Asgardian there, I swear – I swear to you.”

You chuckled, “well, I sure hope so; I am your wife, after all.”

Thor gasped and a shocked expression appeared, “you’re my wife? My queen? Is that why you’re dressed so pretty?”

You ran a hand over his hair as he almost purred at the feeling, “tonight was our wedding, dear. Now get some sleep, it will do you good.”

And sleep did do Thor good as the next day, he remembered nothing of what he said and continued on as if your marriage hadn’t happened.

You knew he was still angry, furious, about the fact that he could not see Jane anymore, yet you knew he asked Heimdall almost every day to see through her, if she was alright. You did not hate her, no, but you hated how much power she had over Thor. You, along with Asgard, needed the future king – but here he was, obsessed with a Midgardian.

This habit of his had continued for weeks and during that time, your therapeutic sessions spent with Loki did you good. At first, much of it was crying and being so heartbroken that Thor just could not stand the fact of being married to you. However, Loki had persuaded you to stand your ground to him, to tell Thor how much this was hurting you, how much he was hurting you.

One night, Thor had come back from his nightly visits to Heimdall to see you standing in the middle of your chambers, arms crossed and an absolute furious – yet hurt – look on your face.

The god of Thunder was speechless, “Lady Y/N, I thought…you were asleep?”

You gritted your teeth before you answered, “I haven’t been sleeping since the first night you visited Heimdall to see Jane, Thor.”

Thor tensed, “how did you-“

You dropped your hands, “I am no idiot, Thor! I am not blind to your utter distaste for this arranged marriage, nor am I blind for your disinterest in me. I know I am not who you want, Thor, I know – but I am trying to make this work! I want this to work, but you are making this so unbelievably hard with your daftness, and of course, being in love with someone else. So please, I am begging you, just please treat me like I mean something to you, like I have at least some value in your life.”

Thor stood silent, eyes dropping to the ground as took in your words. He had been, what his friends say, an absolute asshole, to you; it was unfair and he deserved everything that you said to his face and most likely, behind his back. He lifted his head, “I am…so sorry, Lady Y/N. I have been unfair to you and for that, I apologize.” You sighed in relief, “thank you. And I have to apologize, too – I cannot imagine the heartache you are experiencing with your Midgardian.”

Thor let out a breath, “Heimdall has not allowed me to see her anymore. He believes I am – was – being unfaithful to you.”

Another point to Heimdall for being the best Asgardian ever.

You nodded, “while I wish I could say otherwise, I am somewhat glad of that decision.”

Thor walked towards you, hands reaching out to hold your hands, “I know I have been unfair, and in a way, unfaithful to you, my wife, but allow me to redeem myself?” Tears welled in your eyes but you pushed them away, trying to focus on the moment taking place, “of course, Thor – and I will do better to care for my husband, Asgard’s future king.”

Thor’s hands then moved to your cheeks, thumbs softly grazing your skin before he smiled, leaning down and catching the corner of your lips. You smiled softly, feeling his lips just barely meeting yours before he pulled away, “I do not mind proving myself worthy over time of being able to taste your lips, Lady Y/N.”

You smiled at him before grasping his cheeks in your own hands, brining his lips to yours as you both sighed in happiness and relief. Thor leaned back slightly before kissing you once more, laying kiss after kiss upon your lips as you giggled against his own, “I will never grow tired of that sound, nor the taste of your lips, my queen.”

You kissed Thor before you leaned back on your own, “and I will never grow tired of your compliments, nor your show of affection, my king.”

Thor’s heart raced in excitement and joyfulness as you, a woman that he initially had treated poorly, had given him a second chance; your own smile grew as you gave Thor, a man who had initially treated you poorly, a second chance.

[lululawrence]

Hi! I just got done reading No One Likes to be Alone and I loved it! You mention at the beginning that you love nesting fics so if you don't mind sharing I would love to know what your favorite nesting fics are.

ahhhhhhhh thank youuuuu! and YES I SURE DO!!! oh there are some excellent ones out there. let’s see... favorites are hard for me, but here’s the best I can do for you (i’m grouping them by pairing, because most are larry, but not all... and please know that my absolute favorite nesting fic of all isn’t on this list because it was deleted and i CRY):

Larry

There's No Other Place by @nikogda - I LOVE THIS FIC VERY MUCH A LOT. i mean... hybrid a/b/o nesting. perfection! the entire world building in this fic is so incredibly detailed and cool and the VIBE is amazing. everything is fleshed out and so unique and interesting, but the incredibly personal vibe of the nesting!!!! i cannot even explain how much i love it. louis thinks he’s being SO SNEAKY and he is NOT but that’s okay. haha anyway, a great fic for sure and while the nesting isn’t the most important aspect, it’s definitely more than just a minor detail.

When Tomorrow Comes by @jacaranda-bloom - ALPHA. NESTING. ALPHA NESTING. HOW BRILLIANT???? i honestly could NOT believe i had struck gold when i saw this post hahaha i’d never even considered??? the WORLDS this fic opened for me, and it was done so so brilliantly. niall is sooooo shady, and poor harry doesn’t have a clue it’s even happening, and omg i just... this fic is amazing and it’s because of dee that i’m going to be exploring alpha nesting in at least two of my nesting series fics that i’ll be writing at some point lol highest honors and five gold stars to dee.

We Both Got Nothing to Hide by @chloehl10 - A SECRET NEST. oh gosh louis is SO ASHAMED. and harry’s shit just keeps going missing. but louis NEEDS HIS NEST. a;sdkgha;sdlkfjas zayn of course is the one who figures it out, cause he’s smart like that, but oh gosh the emotions connected to nesting in this one and the complex kind of... shame almost? it’s a suuuuper interesting worldbuilding detail that i really enjoyed exploring in this fic

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by @londonfoginacup​ - christmas eve desperate cuddles and nesting!!! i looooove how louis doesn’t even think twice, he just lets it happen and... sigh. yes. this one is just so soft, i love it.

The Nearness of You by @rockstarlouis - established relationship SUUUUPER PREGNANT nesting!!! there are a few fics on this list that immediately came to mind when you asked about my favs, and this is one of those. i rarely like to read established relationship fics for whatever reason, but this fic??? SO SOFT. SO LOVELY. AND THE DYNAMIC IS SO PERFECT. i just love how careful louis is with the nest. it is so wonderful. i adore.

Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren - THE STRESSED NESTING! that turns into SO much more than harry expected and it’s just WONDERFUL. i love this fic so much, from the start of it to the way things go a bit differently from how they maybe traditionally do in omegaverse. it’s a really fun fic with some a+ nesting smut. hahaha

Safety Nest by @lululawrence - I KNOW i’m sorry i’m including myself haha but this was my first attempt at nesting, and i still love it very much a lot. my drabbles don’t get much attention or love (outside of emmu, because this one was written for her haha), so i just wanted to put it out there as a fic with some nesting. hehe so thank you for indulging me here

Ziam

If you let me be your man by @lightwoodsmagic​ - ooooomg this fic has me giggling just remembering how great it is. it’s got an aspect of embarrassment, because zayn is just SO out of it already and he doesn’t even realize it, and liam is so soft and lovely and more than willing to help him safely get home, but the misunderstanding! and zayn just wants liam in his nest so badly. it is SO VERY SWEET! but also silly and gahhhhh i might have to reread this one tonight, actually haha

Narry

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface - listen, the impossible has been done. i now love narry, and it’s because of this fic. all i’m gonna say is ace alpha harry needs to help recently broken up omega niall through depri, and OHHHHH it’s soooo soft and perfect and i just screamed at her most of the time i was reading. It really is just absolute perfection and niall’s nest is just *chef’s kiss*

these are not in any way the only nesting fics out there, nor the only great ones. i did my best to only list favorites. i would also like to point you to a nesting rec that @londonfoginacup made, because she is my cohort in the quest for more nesting fics in this fandom. lollll you can find her wonderful rec here. and don’t forget to leave the authors kudos and nice comments to show appreciation for their hard work!

[drabbles-mc]

Game Night

EZ Reyes x F!Reader

Request by @beardburnsupersoldiers: If you are still doing the roommate prompts....maybe number 3 with Angel, EZ, and reader???? Bonus points if all that delicious tension is happening between reader and the Reyes of your choice! (Prompts are from This List btw)

Warnings: language, alcohol, EZ being a sore loser 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was really fun to write! I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic quite like this one before so it was a neat little dynamic. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

EZ Reyes Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @encounterthepast​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists let me know!)

“You grab beer for tonight?” you had your phone pinned between your ear and your shoulder as you tossed your grocery bags into the back seat of your car.

“I was supposed to grab beer?” EZ chuckled.

“You can’t even try to pull that shit, Memory Boy,” you laughed.

You could hear the smile in his voice, “Yes I grabbed beer.”

“You’re perfect. I think I’m still gonna go to the liquor store though.”

“What for?”

“…liquor?”

You could envision him rolling his eyes at you, forever fed up with your remarks, “I feel like that’s excessive.

“Live a little, Ezekiel,” you joked, “It’s game night.”

It wasn’t long after you had moved in with EZ you started up game night with him and his brother. It was a good way for them to unwind and forget about the stress of the club, and you just genuinely enjoyed their company. It was nice to play host every now and then, even if it was just for one extra person. You and Ezekiel made quite the pair.

You knew how potentially messy it could get, having feelings for your roommate. That’s why you kept your thoughts and emotions to yourself. But you couldn’t deny that there was something about EZ that was really hard to tear yourself away from. There were moments when you could swear that he wanted you too, but they were fleeting and you always ended up writing them off for the sake of your sanity. When EZ wasn’t paying attention, Angel gave you grief about it. He was at least gracious enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his brother, although on more than one occasion he would shoot you a suggestive look, and you would respond with rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

You popped open the door to your apartment, multiple bags hanging from each of your arms. EZ turned and looked over at you from where he was situated by the counter, pulling together food for the three of you to eat later. He laughed as he walked over and offered to take some of the bags from you, but you waved him off.

“I have a very delicate balance here, Ezekiel,” you laughed, “If you take one I’m gonna tip over.”

He laughed as he stepped out of your way, “Got more in the car?”

You gave him a disbelieving look, “You think I was raised to make more than one trip from the car with groceries?” you shook your head as you carefully started sliding bags off your arms onto the floor, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “My bad. Didn’t mean to insult your honor.”

He helped you put the groceries away before he got back to getting food ready. You made your way to the closet in your room that housed an absurd number of card games and board games. You had always meant to bring Cards Against Humanity to the clubhouse because you felt like it would make for an extremely fun night. You’d have to just put it in EZ’s bags one of these days so it would turn up there on its own.

You heard the sound of your apartment door shutting, and moments after Angel’s voice echoed through the apartment, “What game am I whopping your asses at tonight?”

You laughed loud enough so that he would hear you from the other end of the apartment, “You’re toast, Reyes. You don’t stand a chance.”

He appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, “Stand a chance at what? What’s the game of the night?”

“Wanna do drunk Uno?”

He laughed, “That sounds dangerous.”

“Really? Less than two minutes ago you were saying that you were gonna whoop everyone’s ass tonight. Now you’re backing out?”

“I didn’t say that. Gimme the fucking cards,” he swiped them from you with a laugh before heading back towards the living room.

Plates and beer bottles were scattered on the edges of your coffee table while the three of you took up the center of it with your Uno game. The bottle of tequila rested next to the deck in the center of your table, waiting for one of you to lay down a draw four and make the next person take a shot along with their cards.

Angel had been sitting back and watching you and EZ trying to destroy each other all night. Angel was the king of talking smack, but tonight he was more interested in spurring the two of you on than getting you riled up himself. It was an effective tactic, too, because the amount of tequila he’d had to drink was minimal. Instead, he happily worked his way through a couple beers with little to no interruptions. He was really just waiting for one you two to get enough alcohol in your system to do something about your feelings. He was sick of watching the two of you dance around it.

“Angel shuffles next game,” EZ said with a shake of his head, “There’s no way you fairly ended up with all of those cards.”

“You’re just mad because you hate the taste of tequila,” you teased, “But fine. If it makes you feel better,” you handed the deck over to Angel, “Here you go.”

“Told you he was a sore loser,” Angel chuckled as he shuffled the deck of cards.

“Shut the fuck up,” EZ laughed as he threw a loose bottlecap at his brother.

Despite Angel being the one to shuffle the cards, EZ was looking at another loss. You were kind enough not to say anything, but the look in his eyes as you smiled across the table at him let you know that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You’re about to go 0 for 3, little brother,” Angel laughed as he put a card down.

“Thank you, Angel, I wasn’t aware,” EZ chuckled and shook his head as he looked over the cards in his hands.

You stretched your legs out underneath the coffee table, not realizing that Ezekiel had done the same thing not too long before you. Your foot brushed lightly along the inside of his thigh as you stretched and he instantly jerked his leg, causing his knee to slam into the bottom side of the table. He cursed under his breath and Angel looked completely lost, not having realized what happened.

You, however, were sitting there with a smirk on your face as EZ looked over at you. The look in his eyes gave him away and you could see him make a concentrated effort to take a deep breath.

“Suck it,” Angel completely moved on from the tension between you and EZ as he threw down his last card, “Alright. That’s it. I’m out,” he slowly rose to his feet.

“Leaving already?” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“Already? Listen, querida, you make me take any more shots I won’t be able to ride home. Some of us have shit to do tomorrow. Imma take my win and leave,” he walked over and kissed the top of your head, “Keep whooping his ass for me. It’s good for him.”

He and EZ gave each other a brief hug, EZ not getting off the floor to do so. Angel looked back and forth between the two of you one more time before shaking his head and making his way for the door. Once it shut behind him, you looked back to EZ with a smile.

“Just you and me now, Ezekiel,” you said as you placed a card on top of the one Angel had just laid down.

“Yea, Angel isn’t here to team up on me with you anymore. You’re done for,” he chuckled.

That was the last thing that was said between the two of you for a few turns. You kept looking at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking as if it weren’t already painstakingly obvious.

“Uno,” you said as you got yourself down to one card. You paused, waiting for EZ to get enthralled with making his next card choice, “How’s your knee, by the way?”

He flicked his eyes up to you, “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” you nodded, a smirk on your face, “good.”

He lowered his cards, “What?”

You shook your head, “Just wondering. Sounded like it hurt. Thought it might’ve thrown off your game a little bit.”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he set a card down, “I’ll be alright. Draw four,” he pushed the bottle towards you.

You chuckled as you poured yourself a shot and got back into the game. The two of you were able to drag it on for a while. By the time you were getting towards the end of it, both of you were kneeling, leaning onto the coffee table as you tried to beat each other to the last card. You were down to two cards left, EZ only had four. But you could see him sweating it out, not wanting to have yet another loss for the night.

You laid a card down, chuckling as you said, “Uno.”

He groaned, clearly agonizing over which card he was going to put down next. You bit back a laugh, not wanting him to accuse you of trying to distract him. With a deep sigh he finally picked a card and set it on top of the deck between you. You looked back and forth between that card and the one in your hand multiple times, dragging it out.

Finally, you looked up at him and smile, laying the card down, “Take a shot, Reyes.”

His eyes grew wide as he looked down at the draw four that was staring him in the face. He looked up at you, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Read ‘em and weep,” you laughed as you sat back on the carpet.

“You’re so done,” EZ laughed as he stood up off the floor.

You let out a scream that turned into a laugh as you jumped up off the ground, trying to run to your bedroom and shut the door before EZ could get to you, “Angel’s right, you are a sore loser,” you laughed as you scrambled.

You threw open the door to your bedroom and were about to jump inside when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, his hand landing firmly on your stomach as he pulled you back towards him. You laughed as he spun you around, but your breath quickly got caught in your throat when you realized how close he was to you.

“I won fair and square,” you tried not to let your nerves shine through.

“Fair and square seems like a stretch,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but to focus on the way his fingers pressed into your skin. You swallowed hard, “Why is it more likely that I cheated than me just being better than you at Uno?” you laughed, “What you do want, a consolation prize?”

As soon as you said it, you almost wanted to take it back. Almost. EZ smirked, “What kind of consolation prize?”

You wanted to look anywhere but at him because you could feel what little resolve you had fading away quickly, “What’re you thinking, EZ Reyes?”

He leaned in close so that his lips were practically touching yours, but not quite. You took a deep breath before closing what little distance was left, hands resting on the back of his neck to keep his lips pressed to yours. When it clicked in his brain what was happening, that you wanted the same thing he did, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing your chest flush against his as he kissed you. Your fingers traced along his jawline as his lips moved against yours—it was everything that you had thought it would be and then some.

When you finally took your lips off of his, you both let out quiet chuckles. EZ loosened his hold on your waist slightly, pulling back so he could get a better look at your face.

You smiled at him, “That a good enough consolation prize?”

He laughed, nodding, “I’d say so. I’m willing to forgive you for rigging the deck for that.”

[today-only-happens-once]

out of focus

title: out of focus

word count: 3955

summary: 

The actions of a Fire Nation admiral during a meeting causes some problems for Sokka. The words of that admiral causes some problems for Zuko. They try to take care of each other. 

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?” 

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Warnings: burns (description of), violence, threats of violence, discussion of canonical child abuse, characters curse but no curse words are written, character is non-permanently injured, yelling/arguing, trauma

A/N: me? writing a zukka AtLA fic and posting it an hour short of midnight? Apparently, it’s more likely that you’d think. 

Read on AO3

--

Zuko has the patience of a saint, Sokka thinks to himself.

It’s an unusual thought, he realizes. A year ago, if you’d told Sokka that he’d come to think of the Banished Prince as ‘patient’, he’d probably have thrown his boomerang at you. A year ago, Zuko was one of the most short-tempered people he knew. A year ago, Zuko was the face of the enemy.

A lot changes in a year.

Sokka barely stifles a frustrated sigh. The attempt does not seem to go unnoticed by Zuko, who glances at him quickly before the corner of his mouth twitches with something like amusement. The meeting had been going on for hours, and Sokka can’t help but feel that very little progress on the treaty had been made. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Sokka knows, but war leaves messy problems in its wake. He knows that both the literal and metaphorical shrapnel left behind by a century of conflict can’t be swept away in a night or a week or a month.

It doesn’t make these meetings any easier to sit through.

“I want immediate release of all prisoners of war,” an Earth Kingdom ambassador demands.

“I second that,” Sokka hears his father--sitting across the table from him--add, a bit more calmly but no less firm. “I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”

“Of course,” Zuko replies at the same time a Fire Nation soldier snaps, “absolutely not.”

Zuko levels a hard look at him. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” He looks to Hakoda, then to the Earth Kingdom ambassador. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure it’s circulation as soon as possible.”

“This is an outrage!” The slam of a fist against the table makes Sokka’s hand fly to the boomerang strapped to his hip instinctively. The admiral is on his feet.

“Admiral,” Zuko says, his voice steely as he rises from his own chair. The Fire Nation soldier cuts him off.

“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”

“Admiral--”

“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror--”

“Enough!” Zuko snaps. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”

“You are a child,” the admiral sneers. “Though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”

“Warriors!”

“Then again, he always was twice the leader you will never be. Long live the Phoenix King!”

Sokka sees the warning signs—the slight shift of weight, the clench of the man’s fists—and leaps to his feet. “Zuko--!”

“Sokka!”

There’s a blinding light and scorching heat. Sokka feels something slam onto his shoulder and he dives instinctively for cover as the familiar roar of a fireball explodes in front of him. The flames are bright and lick around him, and Sokka throws a hand up to protect his face. He blinks the spots from his vision as he yanks his boomerang out of his belt.

Zuko is standing beside him, his stance ready and his hand outstretched, having evidently dispelled the fireball that had been launched at him. Sokka leaps back up to his feet and hurls the boomerang in his hands towards the Admiral, hitting his hand right as he moves to launch another attack and forcing it to go wide. A burst of flames slam against the wall to the left.

The room is in chaos.

Sokka barely hears the shouts of alarm and curses over the roar of dying flames. He sees his father, already on his feet, diving underneath a bolt of red fire. Across the room, the Earth Kingdom ambassador jerks their hand. There’s a rumble in the ground before it rises and anchors around the Admiral’s feet, holding him in place.

Sokka sees the admiral’s gaze meet his own and narrow. The Fire Nation soldier bares his teeth in a snarl, his fist shooting out. Before Sokka can blink, Zuko steps in front of him, dispelling the flames just as the door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors flood in and in a series of quick strikes, the admiral drops. Awake, but limp.

Sokka thinks idly that he’s grateful that Ty Lee taught them how to block chi.

“Your father should have killed you that day!” the admiral shouts as he’s dragged through the doors. “He showed mercy on your pathetic, worthless—” the door slamming shut cuts him off.

The silence that follows makes Sokka’s ears ring. He can still feel stale adrenaline coursing through him, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a moment, nobody moves. Zuko awkwardly clears his throat.

“Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda assures him, but there’s something odd in his father’s expression when he looks at Zuko that Sokka doesn’t understand.

Zuko says something in response, but Sokka doesn’t catch it. As the adrenaline bleeds out of him, his muscles relaxing, Sokka realizes that his fists are still clenched. Sokka forces them to relax, and hisses as it sends a jolt of hot pain through his left hand. When he looks down, he realizes that the skin on the top of part of his hand near his knuckles is a blistering, angry red.

Sokka’s hiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Zuko looks at him over his shoulder, his brows drawn together in confusion before his eyes fall to Sokka’s hand. Then, they go wide.

Zuko turns back around suddenly to address the room, his back straighter. “We will adjourn the meeting for the afternoon. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Firelord Zuko—” an ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe protests, but Hakoda interrupts him.

“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik. Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose that’s fair.”

Sokka is finding it increasingly difficult to follow the conversation. His hand hurts, and it’s taking every last drop of his willpower and pride to grit his teeth and swallow back the whimper that wants to push up his throat. It’s not until Zuko’s face is taking up his entire field of vision that Sokka realizes everyone but the two of them and his father have left the room.

“Let me see,” Zuko says quietly, then curses under his breath when he looks at Sokka’s hand. “Where’s Katara when you need her.”

“Do you have anything that can help?” Hakoda asks from behind Zuko.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, his brows still furrowed in concentration. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain, and prevent infection. Follow me.”

Sokka feels Zuko take his elbow and guide him out the door of the meeting room and down the hall. He’s distantly aware that Zuko is moving quickly—not quite a jog, but only barely shy of it—through a network of corridors. His hand feels like it might still be on fire, and Sokka looks down at it again just to be sure that’s not actually the case. He tells himself that he’s endured injuries more painful than this. The broken leg was worse, he thinks, though it does little to actually help with the burning sensation in his hand.

He’s vaguely aware that Zuko says something quickly to two guards that are flanking a set of doors before he rushes in. Sokka looks up and realizes it’s Zuko’s chambers. He’d only been in here a couple of times before, largely while Zuko was still recovering from Azula’s lightning strike in the weeks following the end of the war.

“Wait here,” Zuko tells him before disappearing through another door on the far side of the room.

“You had good reflexes in there,” Sokka hears his father’s low, soothing voice speak up. He’d had almost forgotten he was there. Hakoda moves the chair that had been beside the bed closer to Sokka in a clear direction to sit down.

“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies as he sits. He hisses a little again as his hand flares and grits out a swear behind clenched teeth.

“Easy,” Hakoda says softly. He places a bracing, comforting hand between Sokka’s shoulder blades. It’s grounding, and he’s grateful.

“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka tells him, echoing Zuko’s comment from earlier.

“I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Her magic water comes in handy though.” Sokka gives his father a tight smile. “Get it? Hand-y?”

Hakoda snorts just as the door opens again. Zuko has his arms full of a large bowl, his hands fisting a few vials and some bandages. There’s something pinched about Zuko’s expression, and the way he doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes as he kneels in front of him feels odd. The bowl is full of water, Sokka realizes, as he sets it on the ground and begins to empty the vials into it.

“Can I see your hand?” Zuko asks, and the question—for some reason—catches him off guard.

Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” He grimaces as he places his hand in Zuko’s, but the excessive gentleness surprises him so much that Sokka almost forgets that his hand hurts.

Zuko was many things, but Sokka can’t remember a time—even after he started to get along with the Fire Prince—that he would have described Zuko as gentle. But his grip on Sokka’s hand is careful. Almost excessively so.  

Zuko hums in the back of his throat as he inspects the burns. “I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” he says quietly. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt, a little. But then it should feel better.”

“No permanent damage. That’s good,” Sokka says. He swallows, and nods. “Okay.”

For a long moment, the only sounds that fills the room is the quiet splash of water in the bowl as Zuko submerges the cloth rag again and wrings it out. Sokka lets his gaze float around the room.

Zuko has left it mostly bare. There’s a portrait of Iroh and a woman that Sokka remembers being the Fire Lady—Zuko’s mother—hanging on the wall near the headboard of the bed. On the dresser beside it is a drawing that Sokka did of the group of them months ago. He sees a pile of papers on the desk across the room. He thinks one of them has Aang’s signature at the bottom, but it’s too far away for him to know for sure.

Bright, painful heat searing his hand slams his attention back to Zuko in front of him and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand away. Zuko grimaces, retracing his own hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more earnest than Sokka expects. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

Sokka fights to pull his breathing back under his control. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Right,” he manages, his voice tight. “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it hurts.”

Something about that line—and about the fact that Zuko still hasn’t met his eyes since returning from the other room—drags Sokka’s thoughts back to the conversation in the treaty meeting. There were several things that the admiral had said to Zuko that Sokka didn’t quite understand. He could only remember pieces of things said, but they repeat in Sokka’s head like disjointed pieces of a puzzle that he can’t quite make fit together.

seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror… insubordination… your father’s attempts to brand you… consequences…

Sokka’s gaze falls back to Zuko, dutifully bowed in front of him. There had long been pieces about Zuko that Sokka had found puzzling. Things about him that didn’t quite fit together. Sokka considers himself a person pretty good at figuring out how things worked together, and that extended (with less success) to figuring out how parts of people make up the sum of their whole.

Zuko, though… Zuko had always been something of a mystery. But as the words of the admiral ricochet in his mind, there’s a picture beginning to come together that is still just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus, to fill in the spaces that Sokka felt were missing.

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?”

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Sokka’s brow furrows as Zuko presses the rag to the back of his hand again. Sokka realizes that his hand has stopped hurting, but he’s too preoccupied with what Zuko said to pay it much mind. “After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?”

“No, I, uh.” Zuko clears his throat. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.”

Your father’s attempts to brand you…

“What happened?” Sokka asks. The way Zuko’s shoulders seem to tense doesn’t escape his attention, and there’s a part of him that wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But it also feels like a question that once asked, is too late to take back.

Zuko pats Sokka’s hand dry with another towel and begins to gingerly wrap a bandage around it. He keeps his gold gaze steady on the work. Sokka keeps his gaze steady on Zuko.

“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear,” Zuko begins. There’s something off about his voice, though. Something detached and careful. He keeps wrapping the bandage. Around and around and around.

Sokka frowns. “That’s not fair,” he says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.”

Zuko sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he says in a low voice. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Sokka opens his mouth to disagree—it sounds like Zuko was thinking, unlike anybody else at that meeting—but Zuko cuts him off as he secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”

Zuko gathers the bowl and empty vials as he stands, crossing the room to set them on the edge of his desk. Sokka stands up slowly as Zuko does so. The pieces that had been out of focus for so long are starting to come together, and Sokka feels his stomach rolling with a leaden weight against what he can sense is coming.

“No…”

“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko continues, his voice so quiet that Sokka is sure he would have missed it if it hadn’t been dead silence around them. “It was my father.”

“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?”

“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down into the bowl of water beside him, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fistful of flames.”

Zuko gestures vaguely at his face, and Sokka’s blood turns to ice.

“He…” Sokka’s throat closes, cutting off the rest of that sentence. All this time being chased by Zuko—all this time being friends with him—and he’d always assumed that the scar was the result of a training accident, or a fight with a firebender he lost. Sokka thinks bitterly and viciously that the second assumption wasn’t far off but his own father—

“I was banished after that,” Zuko says, and his voice is hollow and empty and wrong. And he finally, finally, meets Sokka’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”

Sokka stands very, very still. He glances down and realizes his hands are trembling. He curls the non-bandaged one into a fist to get the shaking to stop. “How old were you?” he asks, and he doesn’t know why—of everything he could say—that’s the question that tumbles past his lips, but he feels like it matters.

“Thirteen.”

“Thir—” Sokka cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand across his mouth and swallowing hard. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen—”

Sokka breaks off again, his throat closing, his gaze falling to his father. When Sokka was thirteen, his father had left to go fight in the war and told Sokka he couldn’t come along. He’d protected Sokka, and though Sokka had found his way into fighting in the war regardless a few years later, he knows his father had only been trying to keep him safe. The idea of his own father striking him—let alone with a fist full of flames to his face—was incomprehensible.

Hakoda doesn’t look back at Sokka. His gaze is trained on Zuko, and there’s something in his eyes that Sokka doesn’t quite understand. But he’s seen it before. It was the same look Hakoda wears when he hears other water tribe soldiers recount war stories. The late-night ones. The ones where their voices betray the weight on their shoulders and tremble with the generations of nightmares on their backs.

Sokka takes a sudden, faltering step forward, and Zuko instinctively tenses. Sokka freezes. “Zuko…”

Zuko shakes his head. He coughs a little, as if trying to clear his throat. “Anyway. That’s—that’s what the admiral was talking about.”

“You…” Sokka tries again, his voice carrying just the barest hints of hysteria. “You were his kid.”

“Yeah, well.” Zuko’s gaze meets Sokka’s again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”

“Zuko,” Hakoda speaks up, his voice a low, soothing rumble to Sokka’s trembling nerves. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know, sir,” he replies, sounding steadier than Sokka feels. Sokka feels a little like the ground has shifted beneath his feet as he stares at his friend across the room. Zuko continues, frustratingly calm. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know now.”

“Where is he?” Sokka demands, flushing with a sudden and intense fury.

Zuko blinks, looking taken aback by the vehemence charged through Sokka’s voice like a steel rod. “Where’s who?”

“Ozai.”

“Sokka, what are you gonna do? Fight him? He already lost.”

“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”

Zuko’s brow furrows and he rubs the back of his neck. “Um. I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”

“Yeah—and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sokka,” Hakoda warns, but Sokka’s words are already bubbling up throat and spilling past his lips, hot and bitter and angry.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko waves a hand towards the window that overlooks the courtyard. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.”

Sokka is still shaking. He can’t explain why. He knows, logically, that Zuko is right. He’s right. But Sokka can still feel his hands shaking, can still feel his heart hammering in his ribs with the urge to run something through with sword, can still feel the way his eyes sting with tears he won’t let fall. Sokka clenches his jaw and rips his gaze away from Zuko out towards the window, where he can see the sun setting on the horizon and painting the palace courtyard in an orange light.

“Wherever he is, I hope he rots,” Sokka says finally, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. “He deserves worse.”

Sokka looks back at Zuko, whose gaze is a little wide. He looks… taken aback. Sokka cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you disagree—"

“No,” Zuko replies, shaking his head. “I just… Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Sokka doesn’t understand why, just like he doesn’t understand why it uncoils the tight knot of burning anger in his chest.

Sokka takes a deep breath. Wills himself to relax. It helps… a little. There’s a beat, and then Sokka hears his father take a step forward. “Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, and Sokka swears his cheeks take a faint pink tint as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.”

Sokka glances over and sees Hakoda smile, inclining his head. “Understood.” He looks to Sokka. “I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”

Sokka rolls his eyes teasingly. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”

Hakoda squeezes his shoulder, nods to Zuko again, and quietly slips out of the room. The silence afterward seems to stretch, and Sokka feels the lingering tension bleeding out of him as he looks at Zuko, who quietly shuffles through the papers on his desk. Sokka watches him for a beat, his gaze lingering a little on the scarred tissue across his face. Sokka swallows.

There are other questions Sokka thinks he could ask. Like why—after doing that—Zuko was still so bent on returning home to his father. But there’s a part of Sokka that thinks he maybe understands.

Spirits know that he understood what it was like to crave the approval of your father.

“Hey,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze snaps over to him. “I… thank you for telling me. I… know that wasn’t easy, and… it means a lot that you trust me with that.”

“It… it wasn’t a question of trust, you know,” Zuko replies quietly, averting his gaze. “Not telling you, I mean. It was just—”

“I know,” Sokka says, and means it. “But I also know what it’s like to have things you don’t necessarily… want to relive. So it means a lot that you told me.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth twitches again. He takes a deep, slow breath. “Thank you for listening,” he says.

“I like to think I’m a pretty good listener,” Sokka teases, shrugging.

“You are,” Zuko says, with far more sincerity than Sokka felt was warranted for what he’d meant to be a joke. Sokka blinks at him, and Zuko clears his throat, ducking his head a little. “I was thinking of getting some tea. There’s a place just outside the palace. It’s not as good as Uncle’s, but um. Did you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies with a small smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”  

[harrysweasleys]

a day in the life // f.w

request: Hi Alexaaaa So someone brought up this idea on my blog and i wanna request it id thats alright with you. So like imagine Fred having an auror wife and stuff and him being v protective and not wanting her to go on this dangerous mission but she goes anyway but gets really badly injured and poor freddie is worried sick. I love comfort fics i cannot lie and i hope u like this request thank you

warnings: mentions of explosions, injury, blood, and food

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey guys! i hope you all had a wonderful week and that everyone is safe! the new year is right around the corner, can you believe it? where did the time go?? anyways, this was such a fun request and i loved writing it so much, so i hope you all enjoy! xx

“For the last bloody time, Freddie, it’s going to be fine,” you groaned, your head tossing backwards as you repeated the words to your husband for what felt like the thousandth time.

He crossed his arms, “I know you can handle yourself, but please. Please, for me, be careful. Don’t let anyone get the jump on you.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips and you placed your hands on his shoulders, “I always return, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. You knew he hated it when you went off on dangerous missions — how couldn’t he? You were his wife. It was practically an oath of his to protect you. A vow. There was no way he’d let you run into the jaws of death without giving you a rough time beforehand. He always had something to say about it.

And he often did just that. He’d go on and on about how you could get hurt, how something could go terribly wrong and he could be left by himself. How you needed to see things from his point of view. You’d then spend the morning comforting him and convincing him you’d be fine, but at the end of the day, he’d always give you a bone crushing hug, muttering “glad you’re home safe” as he did so.

“I’ll be home in time for dinner, yeah?” you asked, standing up on your tip toes and pressing a light kiss on his nose. He scrunched up his face as you did so. You could tell he was trying to act upset at your leaving, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. Especially when, in his thinking, it could be the last time he sees you.

“Fine,” his lips stuck out in a small pout, one of his hands reaching up to run through your hair, “Stay safe, love.”

You brought your hand to his, lifting it to your lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Love you. See you soon. I’ll be fine.”

He then tossed your hand to the side — gently, of course — and brought your lips to his. His hand was cupped under your chin, fingers causing a slight ticklish feeling as they delicately moved against your skin. But the feeling went practically unnoticed as you lost yourself in his kiss. His kiss that often rendered you breathless and weak in the knees.

You could feel his love and protectiveness in the gesture and it almost made you want to call in sick so you could stay curled up in bed with him, ignoring the world’s problems and acting as you two were the only people on the planet.

But, sadly, that couldn’t happen.

So you gingerly pulled away, already missing his warm lips against yours, and muttered a quiet “I’ll be fine,” once again before beginning to button your jacket.

It was going to be a long day.

Hours later and you were, in fact, not fine.

The mission had gone horribly wrong, leaving you with a heavily bandaged left arm, a throbbing head, and a group of St Mungo’s best Healers giving you countless antidotes and potions to prevent bleeding and further damage. You had only really been in for about an hour, but the swelling in the left side of your body had gone down heavily.

The pain was still rather horrendous, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Especially not with the current levels of exhaustion floating through your body. You felt as if any second now, you could completely pass out and stay asleep for the next seven years. And you wouldn’t even complain.

Pain really did take a toll on one’s body.

What was even more draining, though, was the fact that your Healer told you you’d have to stay the night. You trusted the staff at St Mungo’s with your life — it wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been treated here, to be honest — but the room you were staying in was incredibly chilly and the food here was never as good as at home.

Plus, here, you didn’t have Fred’s body curled up next to you.

Fred.

He had gotten the message an hour ago that you were here and he said he’d close up shop early to come see you. They said he sounded rather when they sent someone to deliver the message, but you knew he’d barge in through those doors with wide eyes and panic written across every inch of his face. He was never one to really hide away from his worry, but you had seen him silent on a few occasions. Usually when he was in shock.

You felt awful. Both physically and emotionally. Fred had every right to be paranoid about you leaving the house; this wasn’t your first injury. And yet, you spent every morning persuading him to let you go. Fast forward to today, where you were currently bandaged in an uncomfortable bed at St Mungo’s. Not an ideal ending to your day, to be honest. And not an ideal piece of news for Fred to receive.

“Your husband is here, should we let him in?” one of the healers came to your side, checking under the bandage on your hand before nudging her head in the direction of the hallway.

A small groan left your throat, “Of course.”

She walked towards the door to the room and opened it, Fred’s frantic face finding its way to your bedside as quickly as possible. You could see the paleness of his skin, making his usually fiery hair stand out even more. His sweater was badly buttoned, and you were pretty sure the scarf he was wearing was on backwards.

If the situation was any different to the way it was right now, you’d probably have a good chuckle.

His hands immediately found yours, giving small, gentle squeezes as if he would break you if he put any more pressure, “Love, are you okay? What happened? Are you badly hurt?”

You let out a sigh with a small smile, “Freddie, I’m fine. It’s just some minor bumps and bruises. I got caught in the middle of an explosive curse, it’s fine.”

He pulled his hands away from yours and sat on the small metal chair next to the bed, pulling it as close to you as he could, his eyes scanning every inch of you as if he were doing his own evaluation, “It’s fine?! I was worried out of my bloody mind, woman. Can you imagine the panic when some bloke comes to tell me my wife’s at Mungo’s? Bloody thought you were dying.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully before reaching your hand out to grab his, toying with the wedding band on his left hand, “I just have to stay here for the night. I’ll be home first thing tomorrow.”

“You have to stay?” his bottom lip stuck out, the childish pout on his face adding to the guilt fluttering in your chest.

You sat up slightly, trying to limit the weight on your bad arm, “I’m sorry, love. It’s for precaution. I don’t want to leave and make things worse. But, I promise, as soon as I’m discharged, we are heading home and doing nothing all day, yeah?”

“Well, I’ll stay here with you tonight ,” he puffed out his chest slightly as if he was a superhero, causing a bubble of laughter to erupt from your chest. Maybe it was just the exhaustion from your day, bud Fred’s sense of humour really never failed to get to you. Even at the worst of times.

Your eyes began to droop, but you gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know that even though you were fading, you were still listening and conscious. The last thing you wanted, now that he was here, was to leave him alone in the cold room. Cold, both in temperature and in atmosphere.

“You look tired, love,” his voice was soft, gentle. Loving. All the things you wanted to hear right now. If you were honest, you were worried he was going to be furious. Not at you, per say, but at what happened. So the fact that he was being caring and sweet meant more to you than you could begin to express.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, “Tired? Me? Never.”

His laugh was quiet but you could hear it loud and clear, “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you get up.”

You didn’t want to sleep, to be honest. You wanted to sit up and talk to him. To let him know you were sorry and just what went wrong today. You knew he’d listen, and would most likely panic a bit more when you told him the details — but he’d be comforting. And that was kind of what you needed right now.

But, alas, your body had other ideas, and before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

“I can handle it myself,” you groaned, both hands gripped tightly on the jar of jelly, twisting with all of your might and still, somehow, not getting the lid to pop off.

Fred stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips, “Alright, I’ll just watch from here.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, turning back to the jar and focusing all of your strength into opening it. Which wasn’t saying much, to be fair. You hardly had your strength back, and your body was still as sore as ever. You should probably give the jar to Fred, but your inner stubbornness told you to do it yourself. You couldn’t improve if everyone did everything for you.

“You’re sure?” his voice was laced with amusement as he held back a laugh, watching as your cheeks turned red from the amount of force you put into opening this jelly jar. You were surprised it hadn’t broken, but then again, were you even applying that much force?

“I’m fine!” you grumbled, using your sleeve to prevent the skin on your hand from getting irritated, your palm already bright pink from excessive use.

But it seemed to be no use. Your toast will have gone cold by now, and your breakfast just wouldn’t taste the same.

“Fine, here,” you mumbled, sticking your arm out and pushing the small jar into Fred’s chest, your bottom lick stuck out in a pout that could rival your husbands, “I hate feeling useless.”

He popped the lid of the jar as if it were nothing before handing it back to you, “I know, love. But you’re not useless. Your body just needs time to recuperate, yeah? Can’t go pushing your limits or you’ll just end up back in St Mungo’s, and I reckon you don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that,” you replied, beginning to spread the contents of the jar onto your now-cold toast, “I’m just bored. I miss work. I stay home alone all the time.”

His arms slithered around your waist, giving you a light squeeze as he rested his head atop yours, “Georgie’s taking over the shop today so I can stay here with you. We can do whatever you want.” His warmth spread through your body.

You had to admit, that did lift your spirits a little bit. The whole day at home with your husband? That sounded like quite the treat.

“Really?” you turned to face him, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but he took a step back so you could actually look up at him, “The whole day?”

“Course,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Gotta take care of my girl.”

The day hadn’t been overly eventful; a few cuddles on the couch, a few cuddles in the bed, listening to music, sitting next to Fred and watching telly as he organized paperwork for the shop. Just a few small things. But being with him for the whole day, it really did make you feel a million times better than you had all week.

Maybe that was his plan. To use his very presence as a way to cheer you up. Whether he did it knowingly or not, it did the trick. And now, the aches and pains in your body seemed to dissolve as he ran his hands up and down your arms, the two of you curled up in bed and ready for another night’s sleep.

“Thanks for spending the day with me,” your shot him a smile, but highly doubted that he’d see it in the dark, “I already feel loads better.”

“Of course you do,” his voice sounded cocky even though you couldn’t quite make out his face, “I make anyone feel better. I’m a real treat.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, I adore your humbleness. That’s why I married you.”

One of his hands slid around your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flushed against his. He was still gentle as if not to hurt you, “Not the only reason you married me, love.”

“Right, I also married you for George. I don’t know what I’d do without that chap in my life,” you teased, one of your hands finding it’s way into Fred’s hair, twirling at the strands that were starting to get long. Not as long as when you were in school together, but long enough that it covered his ears and often made you tuck a few strands behind his ear.

“You wound me,” he tried to pull away, but you held onto him enough that he couldn’t. Your strength was starting to come back, which was a massive improvement.

“I’m actually the wounded one,” you rebutted, your face finding it’s usual spot in the crook of his neck, his warmth encasing you like one of his hugs.

His arms wrapped around you, “You can’t be wounded anymore! I gave you so much love. That should have healed you.”

You giggled, placing a light kiss as the nape between his neck and shoulder, “Silly me. Your love has healed me, that’s very true.”

Fred might have had a certain reputation while the two of you were in school. But now, with your marriage only getting better by the day, you couldn’t help but see him as just one thing. As Fred. Your husband, your lover, and the man who would throw himself into a fire if it meant saving your life.

You lucked out more than you can even begin to express, and you would continue to be so for the remainder of your days.

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[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies​ and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below! 

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them. 

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug. 

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm. 

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile. 

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her. 

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.” 

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it.  “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.” 

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds. 

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you. 

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling. 

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence. 

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum. 

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit. 

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you. 

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly. 

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress. 

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy. 

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now. 

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions. 

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.” 

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up. 

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton. 

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses. 

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.” 

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” 

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave. 

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return. 

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. 

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles. 

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up. 

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while. 

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home. 

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him. 

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains. 

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?” 

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes. 

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles. 

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him. 

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal. 

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

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