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austinshotbutlers · 1 year

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The Wedding Date - Part Four

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner × Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister's wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is... you don't have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.9K

TW: Smut (Hotch is a boob man at the start, semi-public sex? (they have a quickie in a bathroom), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering), swear words, violence.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Part four is finally here! I’m sorry it took so long and this part is also the longest one so far. I apologise for any mistakes, I don’t know how well I proofread it! But I hope you enjoy it, it’s fluffy, smutty and also a little bit angsty. Please let me know what you’d like to see in part 5!

Being woken up by the bright sun shining through the gap in the curtains was not ideal when dealing with a hangover. Your head pounded as you buried it in the pillow, trying to remember just how much you had to drink at the party. You smiled to yourself as you replayed the events of last night in your brain; you couldn’t believe you and Aaron had sex. You couldn’t believe the two of you had admitted your love for one another.

You sat up slowly, expecting to see Aaron still asleep but there was no sign of him. You laid back against the headboard, chewing lightly on your thumbnail with a look of pure satisfaction on your face. You hadn’t slept with anyone in a long time and it had been an even longer time since anyone had left you feeling so satisfied, so loved. No man had ever made love to you the way Aaron did last night and it was just incredible.

Then, your bedroom door opened gently and Aaron walked in, carrying a tray of food and drink. He looked up and smiled when he saw you were awake.

“Morning.” He smiled, as he walked in and placed the tray down on your bedside cabinet. “I thought you might be hungover so I took the liberty to bring you Advil, water, black coffee, plain toast and a banana. Whatever might do the trick.”

Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness and you immediately reached out for the pack of Advil and water. “Thank you so much.” You smiled, popping the Advil in your mouth and taking a huge sip of water.

Aaron sat down on the bed beside you and leaned forward for a kiss which you happily reciprocated, placing a soft kiss on his slightly chapped lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling Aaron in deeper and he adjusted your bodies so that you were back lying down. You both leaned in for another kiss but you bumped heads in eagerness and laughed but Aaron quickly captured your lips again.

“I’m still naked from last night.” You giggled and Aaron groaned into your ear.

“God you make me feel like a horny teenager again.” He murmured and you laughed, placing light kisses behind his ear. Aaron pulled the duvet down to reveal your breasts and you shuddered at the sudden loss of warmth the fabric was providing. Aaron spread kisses from you neck down to the valley of your breasts and you took a deep breath as his mouth fell to your right.

“Oh!” You managed to moan out as Aaron closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue swirling while his other hand massaged your left. “That feels so good.” You mumble breathlessly, running your hand through his hair. The pleasure from Aaron’s tongue flicking and sucking on your nipple while his other hand kneaded your left breast made your brain foggy with rapture as the building pleasure settled in your lower abdomen.

Suddenly, your bedroom door creaked open and you could hear you mom chatting away as she was about to enter. You shoved Aaron off, who fell back against the mattress, and you frantically pulled the duvet back up to cover yourself.

“Oh my god mom! Have you ever heard of knocking!” You groaned frustratedly. “It’s like being 15 all over again.”

“Sorry, I forgot! It’s all the excitement of the rehearsal dinner tonight!” She said cheerily which told you she didn’t see anything, much to your relief. “How were the parties last night?” She asked as she wondered into your room, opening the curtains and the sun blinding you.

“Jesus mom.” You hissed and squinted your eyes. “Well the bachelorette was fun, you should have seen Sarah dancing.” You laughed.

“Well I heard you at 3 this morning.” Your mom said and you and Aaron threw each other a panicked look. Had your mom really heard you two have sex last night? “You slammed the front door so loud,” she went on to say. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake up your dad and Aaron as well.” And the two of you relaxed. “So! Tonight, we need to be heading to Thomas’ Parents’ house at around 4, guests will be arriving from 5 and I expect you not to drink so much tonight please Y/N. I do not want you hungover on your sister’s wedding day.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re making it sound like I have a problem but whatever, it all sounds good.” You said trying to get your mom to leave the two of you.

“Make sure you wear a nice dress and Aaron, I hope to see you in a suit again.” You mom winked to him and Aaron awkwardly chuckled.

“Of course Mrs Y/L/N.” He smiled politely.

“Great! I shall leave you two now. I can tell when my company is not wanted.” She joked and quickly walked out of your room, closing the door behind her.

“Well…” you sighed. “That killed the mood a bit didn’t it?”

“Just a little.” Aaron said, turning back to look at you.

You started to laugh. “The way we both looked at each other when my mom said she heard me come home last night.” You tried to catch your breath. “We really thought we had been caught! It’s like being a teenager again when I used to sneak my boyfriends in through the window in the bathroom and always being so scared my parents were gonna hear us.”

Aaron laughed. “You were quite the rebellious teen.”

“Weren’t we all? At least I didn’t have a punk phase like Emily did.” You giggled. “What were you like as a teenager?”

“While you may not have had a punk phase in high school, I hate to say that mine was in college.” Aaron said.

“Shut up! There is absolutely no way you were a punk. I couldn’t even imagine what you would have looked like.” You’re practically in hysterics now, trying to picture Aaron in college.

“When you come to my apartment, I’ll have to show you the photos.” He said, amused at how entertained you were by the thought of his, very awful attempt, at a punk phase.

***

“I miss you too buddy.” Aaron smiled into the phone “But I’ll be home in 3 days and you can tell me all about your museum trip with aunt Jessica as soon as I get back. I can’t wait to hear what you saw.”

You smiled from your place at the dressing table, listening to Aaron talk to Jack as you put mascara on your lashes.

“I love you too.” Aaron said. “Be good for Jessica. Yes I love you too Jack.” He chuckled. “Bye buddy.” And he hung up the phone.

“How is he?” You asked, turning to face Aaron.

“He’s good. He went to the museum today and bought a giant shark teddy.” He said.

“He’ll have to show it to me when I next see him.” You smiled , going back to finishing your makeup and Aaron’s heart swelled because Jack loved you. Whenever he would come to the BAU, he would always make a beeline for your desk knowing you would have a chocolate for him in your drawer and make him laugh with some silly story that he would then go home and tell Aaron about 15 times.

“He would love that.” Aaron smiled.

You stood up and turned to show Aaron your dress. “How do I look?”

Aaron felt like he’d stopped breathing as he took in the gorgeous dark green dress you had on. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve and falling just above your knee.

“You look gorgeous.” He breathed out and walked over to you. “So, so gorgeous.” He whispered, leaning in and placing soft kisses behind your ear.

“If you keep that up, we’re going to be late to the dinner.” You mumbled breathlessly as Aaron continued to kiss your neck.

“I don’t care.” He said lowly against your skin.

“Neither do I but my mom will go pure psycho on us and the rest of the team will be coming to claim our dead bodies.” You joked and Aaron chuckled. “But I promise we can continue this later tonight.”

“Deal.” Aaron smirked as he pulled away, standing up straight to look at you. You reached up to tighten and straighten the silky red tie he was wearing and smoothed down his shirt.

“You look very handsome Agent Hotchner.” And you reached up to give him a peck on the lips. “We better get going before my mom starts hassling us.”

Aaron reached for his suit jacket and swiftly put it on before the two of you exited your bedroom and made your way down the stairs. Your mom came into view and she gasped when she saw you.

“Oh sweetheart! You look beautiful.” She smiled.

“Thanks mom.” You said smiling back.

Aaron placed his hand on your lower back and you both made your way to the car.

“So Aaron,” you dad started as he drove. “Have you enjoyed your time in LA?”

“Yes, very much Sir,” Aaron said. “It’s nice to be here for leisure and not dealing with a case.”

“Do you enjoy working for the BA…. Whatever it is?” Your mom asked.

“I do enjoy working at the BAU, my son thinks I’m a superhero.” Aaron chuckled.

“Oh you have a son?” Your mom questioned obnoxiously.

“Yes, his name is Jack. He’s almost 8 now.” He said with a smile and you placed your hand on Aaron’s thigh to apologise for your mom’s abruptness.

“Would you want anymore children?” She continued.

“Mom!” You called our frustratedly. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s fine Y/N,” Aaron smiled to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I suppose I am open to more children but only if it feels right.”

The rest of the car ride went in a silence, your mom and dad occasionally exchanging a few words and sentences but you soon arrived at the house of you sister’s future in-laws. You took in the extravagant building.

“At least we know Sarah is going to be rich for the rest of her life.” You joked to Aaron and he chuckled.

“Oh shush!” Your mom reprimanded you and she knocked a few times on the door before Sarah excitedly ran to open it.

“Can you believe I’m getting married tomorrow!” She said excitedly.

You all made your way into the lavish home and were greeted by Thomas and his parents.

“Luke is here, he’s just in the dining room.” Thomas smiled as he shook your dad’s hand.

Anger flared in Aaron’s chest at the mention of Luke as their conversation from last night replayed in his head. You noticed Aaron tense up and placed your hand on his back, rubbing softly to help him relax.

***

The large party sat around the dining table as the second course had just been finished, chatter and laughter filling the room.

“Sarah and Y/N never used to get on! They hated each other growing up.” Your mom was telling the table.

“That’s because Y/N couldn’t stand the fact that I was more popular than her.” Sarah interjected. “She was far more interested in her boring criminology books.”

“We all know you were only popular because mom had to beg the coach to let you on the cheer squad.” You laughed and Sarah threw you a glare.

“Well at least you two girls get on together now.” Your dad said, trying to calm the conversation.

“Get on? No. Tolerate? Yes.” You said laughing and a few chuckles came from around the room.

Aaron looked around the large table at the guests and his eyes settled on Luke who was downing another drink, much to his girlfriend’s dismay. She was muttering something to him and he replied angrily. Always the gentleman.

“Do you want more wine?” Your voice drew Aaron from his thoughts and he turned to you.

“Please.” He smiled, holding out his glass as your poured. “Thank you.”

Aaron pulled his chair in closer so that he could rest his hand on your thigh and the small action sent instant waves of calmness through your body.

“So, Aaron and Y/N. Why don’t you tell us what it’s like working for the FBI.” Thomas said, everyone’s eyes falling onto the two of you.

“It’s hard work but we love it.” You said, looking up at Aaron with a smile.

“Tell us about the serial killers.” Thomas pleaded.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner talk honey.” Sarah said.

“I’d like to hear about it.” Your dad interjected.

“Maybe we should leave this talk until after the wedding.” Thomas’ mother said unimpressed.

You and Aaron looked at each other as everyone spoke over one another and laughed.

“We profile more than just serial killers.” You said.

“Have you ever shot anyone?” Thomas asked eagerly.

Aaron opened his mouth to respond but your mom’s desperate tone cut him off. “Why don’t we go back to talking about the wedding!”

You turned to Aaron and rolled your eyes before the excited chatter of the wedding filled the room again.

Eventually, the guests dispersed from the table, mingling around the grand house with one another. Your mom was excitedly chatting away with Sarah, Thomas and Thomas’ mom while your dad was talking to a couple of your great aunts. Luke was solemnly stood in the corner, sipping slowly at a large tumbler of whiskey. Aaron had his hand placed at the small of your back, holding you close as your cousin spoke.

“You should have seen your mom’s face when Thomas asked if you had ever shot anyone!” Liv laughed. “She looked absolutely horrified.”

“Well, you know better than anyone my mom hates my job.” You replied with an eye roll. “She never wanted me to take my job at the BAU.”

“I’m glad you did take it.” Aaron said, rubbing a circle on your back. “Or we never would have met.”

“Blah!” Liv said. “You guys are so in love it makes me sick. Where can I get myself an Aaron?” She joked.

“Join the FBI.” You replied with a laugh.

“I’m going to go and get another drink and consider your proposal.” Liv chuckled and walked off to the kitchen.

You looked up at Aaron with a smile and leaned in for a kiss which he happily reciprocated, placing a gentle peck on your lips. You leaned in for another but Aaron pulled away.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” He mumbled into your ear. “You look so breathtaking in this dress.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you smiled shyly into Aaron’s neck. “Keep talking like that and I won’t be able to control myself.” You replied and looked around the room. Everyone was occupied or engaged in conversation, all centred around Sarah and Thomas. “I don’t think anyone would notice if we disappeared.” You said and the implications in your tone told Aaron exactly what you were thinking.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his hands sliding to yours hips and you nodded eagerly.

The two of you quickly made your way down the long hall to the ostentatious bathroom and checked if anyone was around before you both stepped into the room, locking the door behind you. In an instant, Aaron’s lips were on yours, catching them in a hungry kiss and you stepped back, the back of your legs hitting the the bathroom counter. Aaron swiftly lifted you up and effortlessly placed you softly onto the counter. You parted your legs so Aaron could stand between them, letting him be closer to you as he kissed your jaw and you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders.

“I never took you as a quickie in the bathroom kind of guy.” You joked breathlessly.

“Neither did I.” He said as lips trailed down to your collarbone. “But you can be quite persuasive Agent Y/L/N.”

You pushed your clothed centre into Aaron’s crotch and he groaned into your ear as you slid your body closer to his from your position on the counter. You could feel him getting harder as each second passed and your kiss grew rougher and more passionate.

“This dress is just so beautiful.” Aaron mumbled. “You are so beautiful.”

You kissed him again hard on the lips and began to unbuckle his belt.

“Eager?” He jokingly muttered as you unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them.

“We don’t have long until they realise we’ve disappeared.” You said. “And I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Aaron pulled you closer to him and hastily hiked the skirt of your dress up. You could feel how hard he was through his pants and leaned into his ear.

“I need you.” You mumbled desperately.

He reached for his wallet out his back pocket and quickly ruffled through before muttering frustratedly.

“Fuck! I don’t have anything.” He said gruffly.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled as you pulled him back to you by his tie. “I’m on birth control.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. “It’s not always 100% effective…”

You cut him off with a kiss before reaching for his boxers, slipping your hand beneath the waistband and pulling his cock free. Aaron groaned as you took him in your hand and reached down to your panties, pushing the fabric to the side and sliding his fingers inside your slick folds.

“So wet already.” Aaron grumbled and you gasped as he began to pump his index and middle fingers in and out of you slowly.

“Please Aaron.” You pleaded and helped line his length up to your entrance.

Aaron pushed his cock inside you slowly and your hands grabbed onto the edge of the counter tightly. Once he was completely inside of you, he stilled and gave a moment for your body to adjust.

“You ok?” Aaron mumbled and you nodded.

“Yes!” You exhaled.

Aaron began slow thrusts, rocking back and forth, driving into you over and over again. Each thrust felt like ecstasy to him as your walls clenched around his length. It was enough to send him into overdrive. You moaned out quietly and bit your lips to stifle any noises.

“Feel so good.” Aaron grumbled into your neck as his pace picked up and his grip on your hips tightened.

“Aaron!” You moaned at the building pressure between your legs, your grip on the edge of the counter so tight as Aaron’s thrusts grew faster and harder. He placed soft kisses on your neck as he continued to fuck you against the counter and you felt as though you were about to crumble from the pleasure. “Fuck! Right there…” you gasped out as he hit the perfect spot and he positioned himself to make sure he continued hitting the right spot.

“Where do you want me to?…” Aaron began to ask but was cut off by a moan from himself as his own pleasure neared its climax.

“Inside.” You managed to mumble. “Aaron! I’m going to…” all brain function was clouded as your orgasm took over your body.

Aaron buried his head into your shoulder, his thrusts growing sloppy as his own climax neared. A soft moan from your lips was all he needed and he was tumbling over the edge and you gasped at the sudden hot sensation as he filled you up. Aaron continued rocking his hips as he rode out his orgasm. Then, the two of you froze as the doorknob began to aggressively twist as someone attempted to enter the bathroom.

“Occupied!” You managed to call out and you heard a gruff mumble reply from the other side of the door. “Quick, we should get cleaned up.” You whispered and Aaron nodded, pulling out of you slowly and reaching for several tissues from the countertop.

Once you were both cleaned up and looking much more presentable than you were a mere 5 minutes prior, you unlocked the door and quickly exited.

“Remember the quick fucks we used to have?” A voice mumbled from behind you as you and Aaron began to walk down the hall. You turned to see Luke standing against the wall, taking a large swig from his glass.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, taken aback by his abruptness.

“Don’t act dumb Y/N, we all know you two just fucked in the bathroom. We used to do it all the time.” Luke slurred as he walked towards you and Aaron. “I told you she was a good fuck didn’t I?”

“I don’t want any trouble Luke,” Aaron said sternly as he stepped in front of you, shielding you from Luke in a protective manner.

“Come on Aaron, admit it! You’re only with Y/N for the sex. God knows that’s the only reason I stayed with her for five years.”

Anger grew inside Aaron and he stepped forward to Luke. “Just go back to the party and stop bothering Y/N. I warned you last night to leave her alone.”

Luke stepped away and threw his hands up defensively. “Hey whatever! We’re cool man. I mean, I can’t say I envy you being stuck with the needy slut.”

Aaron didn’t even hesitate, his fist formed a ball and without a second thought, he threw a punch to Luke’s jaw and he fell to the floor from the impact. Everything happened so fast and you barely had time to process the situation but you were back at Aaron’s side in an instant and he wrapped his arms around you. Luke slowly stumbled upright as he found his feet, clinging onto his nose as bright red blood spilled over his suit.

“What the fuck! I think you broke my fucking nose!” Luke shouted.

All the commotion had drawn people’s attention from the party as they all made their way to the hallway to see what had happened.

“Oh my god! What have you done?” Sarah shrieked as she looked at the scene before her.

“Broke my fucking nose!” Luke responded angrily.

“It’s not broken.” Aaron rolled his eyes.

“You had to make this about you didn’t you?!” Sarah fumed, turning to you.

“Wh…what?” You fumbled in shock.

“You couldn’t stand the fact that this week was about me and you had to create a scene!”

You started to laugh at her preposterous suggestion. “Are you serious?”

“Girls! Let’s leave this argument until after the wedding.” Your mom said as she tried to intervene.

“You just can’t get over that I’m getting married first so you had to ruin it.” Sarah continued.

“No Sarah! I just couldn’t stand the fact that your let that,” you aggressively pointed at Luke who was now being fussed over by his girlfriend and Thomas. “Asshole to be a part of it.”

“He dumped you two years ago! Get over it.” Sarah replied angrily.

“Trust me Sarah, I’m fucking over it! And you know what? I’m over this wedding as well.” You exclaimed.

“Y/N!” Your mom hissed.

“She’s a fucking psycho mom!” Sarah said. “No wonder she catches them for a living.

Aaron’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to him, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Why don’t we all calm down and go back to the party?” You dad suggested as he tried to calm the situation.

“I think me and Aaron should go.” You muttered.

“Yes. I think you should.” Sarah said venomously.

“I’ll drive you home.” Your dad offered but you shook your head.

“We’ll just get a cab.” You replied and took Aaron’s hand in yours.

***

“I’m sorry.” Aaron said as the two of you walked into the deserted house.

“For what?” You asked, turning around to face him.

“I escalated the situation. I should have never punched Luke but I couldn’t stand listening to how he spoke about you.” He loosened his tie as he spoke.

“Don’t apologise.” You said sternly, walking over to him and intertwining your hands with his. “I’m lucky to have you defending my honour.” Your tried to joke and Aaron smiled.

“But you’re sister…” He began but you cut him off.

“Needs to realise that not everything is going to be perfectly smooth.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ll know in the morning if I’m still maid of honour. But, it’s going to be hilarious seeing Luke tomorrow standing at the end of the aisle with a broken nose.”

Aaron groaned and rolled his eyes. “I did not break it! It was just a light punch.”

“A light punch? You nearly killed him!” You laughed and Aaron sighed defeatedly despite the small smile on his lips. “But I must admit, it was very sexy.”

Aaron chuckled sheepishly and placed his hands on your hips, still in awe of your appearance and your dress. You leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let’s go upstairs and pretend everything today didn’t happen.” You muttered against Aaron’s lips.

“Everything?” He quizzed, pulling away and raising an eyebrow which caused your to giggle.

“Ok, not everything.” You laughed and the two of you began to trek up the stairs to your bedroom.

When you entered your room, you immediately kicked off your heels and began to unzip your dress. Aaron followed closely behind, taking off his jacket and tie before sitting down on the bed to untie his shoes.

Soon, you and Aaron were sat in bed together, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders while you nestled into his side. It felt so natural, so domestic. You could still smell Aaron’s cologne on his neck and it smelt like heaven, sending ripples of relaxation through your body.

“I could spend all day in your arms.” You mumbled into his chest.

“I’d love nothing better than to lay in bed with you all day.”Aaron replied.

“What will the team say when they find out about this?” You asked.

“They will definitely tease us. Dave would claim he’d always known we would get together.” Aaron scoffed. “He actually…” he paused, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. “He actually tried to get me to ask you out.”

“Really?” You asked surprise, sitting up straight so that you were facing him.

He chuckled nervously. “Yes. His voice kept circling my head that night I agreed to do this with you. I could hear Dave’s words repeating over and over.”

“What did he say to you?” You asked eagerly.

“He said ‘If you don’t tell Y/N how you feel, I’ll do it for you’ and I couldn’t stand the thought of you finding out how I felt about you from David Rossi of all people.” Aaron laughed.

You suddenly gasped. “Oh my god! Rossi is the reason you bought me those earrings for my birthday isn’t he?”

Heat rose to Aaron’s cheeks before he nodded slowly. “Dave saw you show a picture of them to Garcia and JJ and told me to get them for you. I rarely listen to Dave’s advice when it comes to relationships but this was the one time I listened to a suggestion from him.”

You leaned forward and kissed Aaron passionately, wrapping your arms round his neck. His hand instinctively went to your hips as he held you in place. You pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes.

“I love you.” You said breathlessly.

Aaron smiled brightly. “I love you too.” He said before leaning in to kiss you again.

***

“Did you go to that party with a plan to ruin your sister’s wedding?” Your mom shrieked as she burst into your room. You and Aaron jolted apart at her sudden entrance, her shrill voice piercing your ears.

“Mom, oh my god.” You sighed. “You made us jump!”

“You were very rude to your sister at her rehearsal dinner.” You mom continued, a sour look on her face. “She is downstairs so upset with what happened. You’re lucky she still wants you to be her maid of honour tomorrow.”

“I think you’re both being over dramatic. Luke got what he deserved.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s not my fault Sarah started an unnecessary argument.”

“Luke has got a potential broken nose! We don’t know of he’ll be able to go to the wedding tomorrow.”

“Would that really be so terrible?” You asked.

“Enough! Tomorrow is Sarah’s day, let the past with Luke go and try and behave for the wedding tomorrow.”

“Jesus mom, I’m not 5 anymore.” You huffed at her ridiculous words.

“In Y/N’s defence,” Aaron spoke from his position next to you on the bed. “Luke has said some disgusting things about Y/N this weekend. I don’t usually go round throwing punches but I couldn’t stand there and let him call my girlfriend, your daughter a slut.”

Your mom was taken aback by what Aaron said. She struggled to find the words she wanted to speak.

“Just make sure you apologise to Sarah in the morning, she’s staying here tonight. The night before her wedding and all that.” Your mom muttered and then swiftly exited your room, shutting the door behind her.

“Christ tomorrow is going to be painful.” You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow.

***

The Wedding Date Taglist 1/2: @wanniiieeee @notsopersonalcharlie @blackeyedangel9805 @preciousbabypeter @stxlemate @twilightlover2007 @justarandommom @impala1967dwinchester @spencermiromantiko @julyhoney @thecubanator2 @xphantomphanphanaticx @lawlesshedgehog @louderfortheback @ssamorganhotchner @essenceproxima @lespendy @stiles-argent24 @rousethemouse @tvdstelenaforever @wandererseye @bibella8swan @yourfavunsub @bibimangines @lou-the-confused-bisexual @realm8626 @sophiaj650 @bylones @howabouticallyou @madz-19 @hotchnerxo @supercriminalbean @jayxox @sweetpeterparker @mina2000alex @xoxokiwi @rayofeffingsunshine @helmihotchner @pedrohoe04 @blackqueenie-18 @crocodilefeet2707 @mynotesapptbh @cryingraccoonn @victoriaholland @1d-obssesed @jemssafespace @red-red-rogue @fandomalert31 @valentinaromanoff @smad809 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @tim-thefrog @mojo366 @jazzymariexoxoc @dankfarrick29 @gffesegjoiegi @fuckthealarm @users09 @8crazy-freak8 @jazzerbelle14 @vsophb

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writing-whump · 4 days

Note

forgive my 200 ask at the minute, but my brain is on fire. I just love your babies, so much. Alright, so would u ever be up for writing a moment where Isaiah actually has to use his shadow on another wolf, where all his soft skills in the world fail him (the other pack/wolf won't hear him) and he's forced to let the Executioner out in front of Matt and Sel?

And not even in a bad lighting (ofc Sel will be spooked regardless), but really just a small reminder this man IS super capable and badass, even if his shadow is lowkey falling apart.

asking for a friend 🙈🙈🙈

I need you too much

Seline always felt like she had to beat the world back with a stick sometimes, to conserve her energy levels.

Everything tried to syphon her. Every class, every homework, every person, everything needed for work. And that was fine, that's why she made sure to enjoy all those things as much as she could. Careful selection.

But she still needed those precious days where she could just stay in her room and do nothing. Just her thoughts, her books, some writing done, music and daydreams. No obligations, no socialising or putting herself together.

She needed to just be with herself to recharge her batteries.

And she was careful about that time even with Isaiah and Matt. While she made an effort to be present with them, whole-heartedly and completely, to make traditions, to spend time together, there were moments that were untouchable and only hers.

But now the most terrible feeling came upon her.

She wanted to spend the entire weekend with Isaiah.

She couldn't sleep that night, thinking of how much she didn't want to go back to the house or to her room or to her books, if she could just be with him. One more day. An extra day of the week.

It wasn't a thing she felt like she could say out loud without sounding insane. Every girl in her shoes would logically want to spend all her time with her boyfriend.

But Isaiah wasn't just in the category "interesting" or "not exhausting". He was category "share every thought with", "read him the best passage on the page" and "childish kind of delight" at just seeing his face.

This was terrible. Out of control terrible, horrible.

So instead of enjoying the evening and hurrying home from class, she sat down at the park next to uni and watched the trams. Sun came and went, twilight came and went and she couldn't make herself move. Afraid to go home; afraid to completely lose herself in that irresistible desire to see that man.

Oh, this was so so bad.

Seline refused to give someone that much power over her. To hurt her, to control her. She wasn't going to depend on anyone and even less on a guy. Her thoughts were supposed to be enough to make her happy - she was enough to make herself happy.

The streets were clearing out. Vienna wasn't particularly calm at night, but the vicinity of the main university building sure missed its students in these hours.

Seline almost didn't notice, except the trams weren't coming that often and the wind was starting to howl emptily.

She should go home. This wasn't particularly secure anymore. Not that she needed anyone to feel secure. No way.

"Ah, look at that. Isn't that Seline?"

Seline blinked, getting herself back in the present.

The girl had long violet hair, a coat with spiraly patterns and long fale earrings shimmering in the steetlamp light. The other one she held around the waist had long brown curly hair and dark eyes and was considerably smaller in size.

"Hi, Violet," Seline muttered. "Bye, Violet."

Violet gave her a sly smile. "Oh you are not getting rid of me that easily. You know Seline, Cami? That's the witch that used to be in our coven."

Seline sighed, leaning back on the bench. Just the kind of theatrics she needed.

"You know why she got kicked out?"

"I left," Seline corrected, trying to not to let herself get baited into this. Violet was not worth the time to argue with.

"She believes," Violet continued, voice rising, "into the human system of work. Wants to waste her valuable magic and time for salary and live under explotative capitalist conditions. Some serious brainwashing, isn't it?"

Seline rolled her eyes. "It's called having interests outside of magic. And wanting to contribute something to the society."

"We are contributing. Our magic. A proper witch should get the freedom to develop her talents and arts."

"No, you just want somebody to take care of you just because you were born," Seline said, voice acidic. "If you can't find a wolf who would do so just cause you look pretty, then the state should do it for you. Cause food and electricity simply fall out of the sky and witches are too cool to work like normal mortals."

Violet frowned. "You just aren't skilled with magic so you look for something pathetic to fill the void."

"Yes, indeed, lot of pathetic people work at the university."

"I am at the university too."

"That's it, Violet. You are, you don't work. You just put stickers with communist ideas onto bathrooms and tables and feel important. Giving speeches about how everything should belong to everybody, because you shouldn't have to create anything of value, since you have a talent for magic."

"That's-"

"Magic," Seline interrupted, "that doesn't work on humans or for humans. It comes from wolf shadows and works only on them. Tell me Violet, what exactly is your problem? Can't find a job to your liking? Or can't be bothered to put in any effort or thought into one?"

"You should learn how to shut up," Violet was downright hissing. "So it doesn't cost you that precious job of yours."

"Are you pulling the strings now, Vi? If you at least read the crap you put on those stickers or actually went 50 kilometers to the east to see what your ideas looked like in practice in the Sowjet Union-"

"That you came from to steal our jobs and places at universities," Cami said, looking terribly proud of herself for pitching in. "Little Slavic refugee and a thief."

This is the EU, you idiot. I have every right to he here. Seline stood up, making a mocking motion as if she was tipping her head to the two witches, heart racing. "Your intelligence knows no bounds. Have a good evening, bitches."

She made to move behind the bench and to the other side of the park, when a tall figure suddenly appeared out of the shadow, blocking her way.

"If only you stayed a little bit longer, Sel," Violet said in the sweetest fake voice she could manage. "You might have had found a wolf to protect you."

...

"Isaiah, you are overreacting."

Isaiah didn't slow down at Matthew's protests as he hurried down the street, into the direction of Seline's last class.

"She should have been home hours ago."

"Yeah, maybe she found a bookshop on the way and forgot about time again."

"She is not answering me."

"Do I have to remind you of the speech she gave us both about being constantly available? She knows how to turn it off and all that crap." Despite his reassurances, Matthew jogged behind Isaiah at the same pace.

The streets were basically empty at 11 on Monday. Isaiah let his shadow up to have more senses to search with. His shadow eagerly consumed the darkness and the streets around, melting into it.

It sensed another intense eagerness just ahead of them.

Isaiah sped up into an outright run, Matthew close on his heels.

He didn't catch Seline's scent until he was almost there. They stood upwind with buildings all around, it was hard to track.

But it was Seline alright. Circled by a bunch of wolves who were throwing her around like a volleyball. Frozen solid in their grip, tyring not to show a reaction. Sign of fear or pleading would just rile a wolf up.

Wolves technically shouldn't harm witches. Witches had a powerful calming effect on them, making it very hard to be hostile to them.

But there were other witches present. Two altogether, standing a bit to the side but with good view. A wolf head over heels for a witch would be capable of many impossibilities.

The girls noticed them first, the one with blue-violet hair immediately positioning herself between them.

Matthew stopped at the sight, unsure. Wolf should not harm a witch. Not only was it physically uncomfortable, felt entirely wrong for a wolf to do so, it was strictly forbidden and looked-down upon.

A wolf should not touch a witch without her permission. Touch ment connection and connection meant magic.

Isaiah had not decided what to say yet, but he did not feel any qualms. "You let her go right now," he said quietly. "This is the only warning you will get."

The violet witch smiled widely as the wolves behind her looked up, sneering.

"I don't think you are paying attention, pal," one of the wolves said. "It's six of us. And it's only two of you. You really want to fight us?"

Might makes right kind of idiots? Fine with him.

Isaiah noticed Matthew's hesistant look, not seeing a way how to get to the wolves around the two witches he wasn't supposed to touch.

Isaiah didn't wait for him. His shadow was up and about in the darkness, covering the ground underneath them. One quick twist and they were all falling down, feet flying up as if he pulled the carpet underneath them.

The girl's smile turned into a surprised grimace.

Before anyone could move Isaiah used his shadow to sweep over the wolves, rolling their shadows one by one with smoothness of years of experience.

He stepped closer, pushing the two witches out of the way as they yelped, looking down. His shadow didn't need a straight path. And he had enough control not to touch Seline in the midst of them.

She was standing upright in the middle with a stony expression. But her arms were wrapped around her, her hair was sticking in all directions. He scanned her for any signs of blood or injury.

Not finding any didn't really quell his anger.

"I thought you wanted to fight," Isaiah said, turning back to the wolves crawling and moaning on the ground. Three were shivering without their shadows, one was curled up holding his head, one was even passed out. Rolling a shadow was never pleasant.

The last one, the one who spoke, was crawling away. Isaiah quickly closed the distance between them, kicking him into the stomach. And then in the face for good measure.

He took him by the collar, easily lifting him with one hand. "You come after my girl again, I'll rip your arms off, you hear?"

The wolf shook violently than nodded.

Isaiah turned around, his shadow riding around in satisfaction, brimming with happy aggressive energy. It wanted to make good on his threat right away, wanted to rip them to little pieces along with the witches.

Isaiah looked back at Seline and down, suddenly self-conscious of how much of those desires she could read from his expression.

Seline said nothing, retrieving her bag from the ground.

She did not take his hand, when he offered it.

...

Isaiah was sure he had fucked things up spectacularly. He went all scary in front of Seline, did not even wait for Matt to back him up. He just rushed into it with killing intent.

The way Seline got scared from Matthew's shadow, how she cried and shut him down for weeks to come was fresh in his mind, making his chest tight and dread pool in his stomach.

Seline said nothing on their ride back home and didn't look at any of them. He wasn't sure how to interpret it, she was very hard to read, when she didn't want some kind of emotion to show. But it must have been fear. What else could it have been?

Fear from what just happened and from him and from being involved with wolves in general...

When they arrived at their apartment, she went upstairs immediately. Clear signal she wanted space.

"This is going to be a problem," Isaiah said quietly, staring at the staircase.

Matthew bumped into his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at her! She is terrified of me!" He turned around to lean his forehead against the wall.

There was angry stomping on the floor above them. Then a slam of the door.

"Yeah, I don't think fear is what we are talking about," Matthew said dryly. "She looks pissed to me."

"Huh?" Isaiah said intelligently. His brain was short-circuiting at how he just went all Executioner in front of his girlfriend.

"Yep. Stop making guesses and go talk it out. No point worrying about something that might not be true."

"But- Did you not see-"

"I saw fine. It was plenty cool, if you ask me," Matthew said with a smirk. "Shoo."

Isaiah shook his head in exasperation, but went up.

Seline was in the process of changing and getting ready for bed. She slammed the cupboards violently behind her, the doors creaking painfully as she threw them open and then shut again.

Isaiah slipped inside her room, a little stunned by the display. He couldn't remember if he had seen Seline like this before.

"Ehhh...are you okay?"

She gave him an indignant look. "I'm fine! Perfectly fine!"

Isaiah watched her as she glared at her discarded jeans and shirt on the bed, in her PJs already, suddenly grateful Seline's affinity was water and not fire.

"Why didn't- you could have called me, you know?" He said tentatively into the silence. "I would have come sooner."

"I didn't need you to come."

Isaiah's eyebrows knitted together. "Well, then you could have at least called Matthew or messaged us where you were, so if something happened, we would know to look for you."

"I don't need-"

"You message your mother when you go to school and arrive home, why the hell can't you do the same for your pack?" Isaiah interjected, voice jumping up. "If you don't want to see me, fine, if you- at least let us know you are okay. Not to mention you weren't-"

"If those cows didn't bring their wolves, I would have been alright," she said, turning back to him, her chin up.

"I don't doubt that, but they had wolves around and it's my duty as your packmember and packleader-" Why was he defending his desire to protect her again?

He knew it was the wrong thing to say by the furious look in her eyes.

"Look," he said, pressing the bridge of his nose. "Wolves are dangerous, the city is dangerous and I just want to keep you safe. You can at least make sure of that, right? If you need a break from-from me or if you are disgusted or scared of me right now- there are still ways how to-"

"What are you going on about?"

"You didn't answer my messages or my calls all day," Isaiah said. "I thought something was wrong or that you were upset with me."

Seline watched him silently as if that wasn't all.

"And...right now...That must have been scary, right? I don't blame you for-"

She gave a dramatic sight. "I was upset. But not with you."

Seline approached. Isaiah suppressed the urge to back away, keeping the space he had drawn around her in his head untouched.

Seline's eyes widened at something, then she took the last three steps between them to stand right in front of him. "I'm not scared of you. That was actually...really nice of you. To defend me like that."

"Yeah?" He rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "I don't want you to see-"

"I have never been scared of you. Wolves, sometimes, and yelling maybe, but not you. You would never do anything to hurt me." She took his face between her hands to make him look at her.

Isaiah let out a relieved breath, putting his hands over hers on his cheeks. "Okay. That's good, I'm glad. So what were you...upset about before?"

He watched her face intently, and his heart jumped into his throat where there were suddenly tears spilling over her cheeks.

"Sel?"

"I don't-" she broke off with a shuddering breath, ducking her head. "I don't want to need you this much."

"I'm sorry - what?"

"It's like I depend on you to protect me, and-and I'm doing it all wrong. I'm not supposed to tell you stuff like this, but I wanted- I want to be with you too much." She let go of his face, hugging herself.

Isaiah had the distinct feeling he was missing something. "And that's bad how?"

She looked up at him, her eyes even bluer from the tears.

"Isn't that kind of why we are together?"

Her blond eyebrows met in the center of her forehead in annoyance. "Don't you understand how bad this is? You...you are better than my solitude."

Isaiah frowned until he remembered the quote she meant. It was one of the quote books that they read in the evening to each other, sometimes to discuss them. My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.

His heart was fluttering in his chest at the proclamation as he understood what this meant.

Not needing more reassurance than that, he scooped her up from her feet, hugging her to him. No way he was allowing his girlfriend to feel so sad about caring about him so much.

He dragged her into the bed, arms wrapped snuggly around her, and she reciprocated, hugging him just as tight around the waist. Like she couldn't get close enough.

„Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within," he said into her ear, nose in her hair. "You know that one? Cause that's how it feels to be with you."

Her breath hitched against him, her face buried in his chest he wondered how she could even breathe. But he couldn't make himself let her go.

He wondered how he ever could again.

#angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #my writing #werewolf wip #Let's see #not sure this is what you asked for buuuuuuut #this was long time coming cause Isaiah IS those things #loved the opportunity to show it

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cable-knit-sweater · 1 year

Note

Mayaaaaaa! *knocks on your window* are you alive in there???

That new photoshoot of Chris 🥵 I have thoughts. Many thoughts especially after the richy rich photos of Sebastian from this weekend. It feels like one of those Hallmarky movies.

Imagine this: rich CEO Seb is driving through MA on his way to some retreat or something that he's supposed to go to and find his zen after being totally stressed out. But his stupidly expensive car breaks down in this small town. Local mechanic Chris is there to fix it but it needs a part that'll take a day to come in. Chris offers Seb a place to stay at his farmhouse while he waits because they don't really have hotels.

There's homecooked food, lingering glances, horse riding through the beautiful countryside (it's autumn!). Lots of cosy sweaters, fireplaces and even pumpkin spiced lattes (which tastes better than any coffee chain Sebastian has ever been in).

Then Seb finds himself truly relaxing and enjoying himself for the first time in months - years even. Doesn't even check his emails once.

Oh, and they definitely have sex in that hayloft. Chris is picking out hay from Sebastian's hair with a soft chuckle, loving the way Seb looks in his borrowed clothes (those suits and shirts in Seb's suitcase were too formal).

Anyway - have a great day at work ✨ I'll be here when you need to flail 😘

Tej. I am barely alive. Just, hanging on by a thread, thank you very much for asking 😭😭😭😭

I too have many, many thoughts, most of them highly inappropriate and that my brain needs some more time to think through. Thankfully you’re much less unhinged than me and coming up with this BRILLIANT IDEA.

It’s frankly unfair for them to do this to us in such a short timespan. I’m still very far from being over how Seb looked at that event on Saturday, bc god damn he looked good 😫😫

And then to make it all worse, you ATTACK ME with this??? I am literally begging you to write this fic and also to never talk to me again bc what little was left of my mind has now combusted. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I can just SEE IT so clearly. I’m so weak for the idea of mechanic Chris, in his white tank with oil on his calloused hands, sweat dropping down his neck from a hard day at work, and Sebastian just needing a moment because how the fuck is he supposed to string words together into sentences when there’s this walking wet dream in front of him?

And when Chris does ask him to stay, he’s so eager to say yes, but also thinking this is probably the worst decision ever, because being in close quarters with Chris is going to be a challenge, to say the least. There’s no way Chris is into him - and Chris definitely thinks he’s some sort of spoiled brat at first.

But it actually turns out to be the best decision he’s ever made, because of all that you just said. They get to know each other pretty quickly. Chris makes him realize what the important things in life are, and he finally gets to relax. Of course there are lingering glances, home cooked meals and cosy sweaters. Chris giving him heated looks when Seb is wearing Chris’s clothes. Sebastian feeling absolutely overwhelmed with how this man isn’t just ruggedly handsome, but also incredibly sweet and caring, and a bit of a dork. They just click, and it’s like they’ve known each other forever, but also like this is what Sebastian had been waiting for forever, and desperately needed.

He definitely can’t believe his luck when after the tension builds and builds, they finally give in, and yes, have sex in a hay loft, probably all over the property really. He never really wants to leave.

I absolutely LOVE this whole idea and the fall vibes, and now you’ve written your first Evanstan fic, I NEED YOU to write this one next, pretty pretty please?? I’m gonna be thinking about this all day in between screaming, probably.

I love you and your genius brain so much 💕💕💕

#maya answers #evanstan #rpf #TEJ 💕💕💕#this is TOO FUCKING MUCH honestly

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stormcallsimming · 1 year

Text

Shoot for the Sky (MSSS)

Theme: Take Flight

Challenge/Month: Monthly Simlit Short Story/April 2023

Genre: Friendship, adventure

Word Count: 1,000 words

A/N: I feel like this isn’t very good and it didn’t quite come out like I was hoping it would. That 1k limit truly is a challenge for me haha This took way longer than it should have for me to post because it took AGES to get to GeekCon lmao A huge thank you to these two amazing creators for their builds used in this story: – Newcrest Starter by SimsOnlineCom – Nacho, Bueno! by CallMeMotherlode

Jaeden huffed as she approached Nacho, Beuno! to meet up with her best friend.

Upon entering, she fell onto the chair with a scowl on her face. Sitting across from her was her childhood friend, Drax, who sipped his fruity drink as he watched her. He knew better than anyone to be careful of his words when she was in a mood like she clearly was now.

He also knew that he didn’t have to ask because she would definitely tell him on her own. So, he waited for her to speak, carefully sipping the cold drink to avoid a brain freeze.

“Parents are so unfair,” she said finally, using her hands to express her frustration. “I’m clearly ready for my first flight, but dad keeps telling me I’m too young. I’m almost seventeen, for grim’s sake!”

“He said no, huh?” Drax guessed with a frown. “My mom said no, too. I really wanted to go to space camp this year…”

“Why don’t they understand? We’re not babies anymore and treating us like some isn’t going to make it true!” Jaeden groaned, throwing her head back against the plush booth. “Did you know Kalie goes on regular flight trips every weekend? Her whole family takes her!”

“Yeah, and Melissa has been to space camp every year since she was three. She always makes sure to rub it in my face when she gets back. Can’t our parents see that they go each year and come back without a scratch?” He shook his head with a frown.

While Drax was willing to just accept his fate, Jaeden was willing to fight for what she believed shedeserved. “We have to fight for what we want or we’ll never get it!”

“I don’t know…” Drax rubbed the side of his neck, shifting nervously in his seat. “They seem pretty serious about this. If we disobey them, we might not get to visit GeekCon this year.”

“GeekCon?” she repeated, eyes widening as a thought struck her. She stood up suddenly, slamming her hands on the table. “That’s it! GeekCon!”

The other patrons of Nacho, Bueno! looked over at her in confusion and surprise. Drax, ever the shy boy, felt his cheeks start to burn. Jaeden, on the other hand, didn’t even notice them.

“Please sit down,” he told her pleadingly, giving her a nervous smile.

One of the waitresses approached her, a customer service smile on her face. “Is everything okay, miss?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Jaeden offered her an apologetic smile as she sat back down, waiting for the woman to walk away before addressing her friend once more. “We’re going to GeekCon and we’re going to both get what we want.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They build rocket ships each year. Forget space camp, you can go to actual space!”

“Are you crazy?” He sat up so suddenly that his chest bumped against the table. “I’ve never even been to camp, I can’t go to space!”

“Of course, you can. You just need someone with you that knows what they’re doing. And I just so happen to know a guy,” she grinned, folding her arms across her chest. “The same guy that just so happens to have a nice little broom for me.”

“Our parents will kill us!” he cried out softly before suppressing a shiver. “If we don’t die on our own first…”

Jaeden rolled her eyes. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, man. You can stay back if you want, but I’m not giving up this chance.” And with that, she stood up and left the taco joint, leaving her friend frowning at the table.

___________________________________________________

“Ta-dah!” Eric Westmiser pulled a black broom from behind his back, a grin on his lips. “As requested, one spellcaster’s broom!”

Jaeden’s eyes sparkled as she took the wooden handle in her hand. It felt right for her to hold it and it felt as if it belonged there. She had been waiting her whole life for this moment.

“Where’s your friend?” he wondered, glancing around. “The rocket’s fueled and ready to go.”

“Looks like you’re taking this trip alone,” she commented with a frown before shaking her head. It sucks that he chose not to join her, but what could she do? She couldn’t force him to reach for his dreams. All she could do was reach for her own and they were right in front of her now.

Eric shrugged, turning toward the rocket. “You take off first and I’ll follow after you.”

“Roger!” Jaeden gripped the broom firmly with her hands, preparing to mount it. Before she could, though, she heard her name being called.

“Jaeden!” Drax slowly approached them, taking a moment to catch his breath since he had ran the whole way to the festival. “W-Wait… for me!”

She grinned, nodding her head toward the rocket. “Let’s reach for the sky!”

Despite the anxiety in his heart, he grinned back. “Right!”

“All aboard!” Eric called dramatically from the doorway to the rocket. “We’re ready for takeoff!”

Taking a deep breath, Drax sent Jaeden a smile before turning to enter the rocket.

The door slid shut and the rocket started to vibrate as they started up the engine.

Excitement filled her as Jaeden finally kicked off the ground, her magic making her appear to glow a faint white. She slowly floated off the ground, hearing surprised whispers from the convention goers below.

It only spurred her on. She leaned forward and the broom shot upward toward the bright blue sky.

She could hear the rocket right on her tail and she slowed down until it was flying right beside her.

She could see Drax’s happy face through the tiny window and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

The rocket surged upward, breaking through the planet’s atmosphere, getting smaller and smaller until she could no longer see it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t follow on her broom but she was still able to race across the sky, the wind whipping through her hair.

#simblr #the sims 4 #ts4 #monthly simlit short story #simlit #short story #msss #stormcall simming

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell.

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up. At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian ��@strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn @chicken-taco-burrito @scorpios-echos

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inkdemonapologist · 3 years

Photo

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things, [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol! [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression.

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew #Henry Stein #Bendy the Lurker #when in doubt just keep drawing #cthulhu game quotes #everyone except henry got a new insanity and we're doing... fine!

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harry-writings · 3 years

Text

We’ll Be Alright

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

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

How to support me <333

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

She doesn’t even smoke.

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

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

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

She hasn’t seen Harry in thirteen days.

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

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

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

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

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

Everything has faded to nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her Harry is no longer hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hand shakingly reaches for her phone.

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

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

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

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

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

But what will she have left if she does?

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

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

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

She calls Mitch.

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

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

Something in the air shifts around Mitch.

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

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

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

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

Mitch sighs.

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

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

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

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

Oh, how she wishes it was true.

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

He wishes he knew what to say.

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

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

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

He’s her greatest weakness.

She needs to be alone.

Or, so he once thought.

“Have you been drinking?”

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

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

Mitch frowns.

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

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

This side of her never existed until she met him.

“You want to see him, don’t you?”

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

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

“Even if it’s just for a second.”

His heart falls.

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

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

“Yeah.”

She can hear him smile softly through the phone.

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

Harry hasn’t been able to sleep all night.

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

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

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

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

But it was helpless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This simply doesn’t belong to him.

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

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

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

She just needs to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?” He asks again, devastated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can hardly think straight.

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

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

He nearly cries.

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

“Y/n —”

“Stop calling me that!”

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

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

He wants her to stay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not now, at least.

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

And it’s all too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry never denies her.

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

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

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

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

“Y/n…”

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

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

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

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

He never wanted this.

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

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

She trusts him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It always felt too good to be true.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if she even had to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He finally felt at home.

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

And he knew he couldn’t do it anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How would she ever survive it?

“I terminated the contract.”

Her heart stops beating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he knows. Oh, how he knows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of her hands reaches forward to cup at his cheek, pulling herself closer to him because she needs to feel him, all of him — needs to feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath.

She needs it all, all around her, until she drowns in it.

“Don’t care about the money, just — just want to make sure you’re okay.”

His wife is reaching for him, pulling him in, wanting and loving him despite everything he put her through… how could he not be okay?

He’s on top of the world right now.

“Baby, I’m so much more than okay. I have you, don’t I?” She nods her head as she wipes her tears away, sniffling with trembling lips and shaking hands. “Then that’s all I need.”

She sobs against him, her face tucked in his shoulder as he holds her hands between them, kissing at her head.

And sometime in the near future — when Harry and Y/n have found everything they had lost, have grown to be better together than ever spent apart, and have become the best parents they could ever be to their son — he’ll rent out a small venue in the outskirts of town and renew his wedding vows to his wife, whom he plans to never be parted from, even in death.

“So, Y/n, baby love.” They both giggle at the pet name, her head lifting from his shoulder and meeting his eye halfway. “Will you please do the honors of being my lawfully wedded wife, and the mother of our disgustingly perfect child, in our home in Alaska? Forever?”

She nods her head, her thoughts clouded by euphoria, her hand still in her husband’s.

As if he even had to ask.

#THIS REALLY TOOK ME FOREVER #THE WRITERS BLOCK WAS REAL HERE #BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAYS :D #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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mviswidow · 3 years

Text

my girlfriend’s got a gun

Fallon Carrington x Reader

Word Count: 2,185

Warnings: gun

Prompt: Maybe one where we're Fallon's girlfriend, but also at the same time her bodyguard/personal assistant to keep up a facade since she doesn't want anyone to know about the reader. - @another-fantasy-world

Summary: Three scenes of Fallon and R dating.

“I don’t want to see that happening anymore. If I have to ask you again you’ll be fired,” Mr. Carrington said peremptorily.

You nodded your head, clutching the iPad in your arms tighter to keep yourself from fidgeting, “Of course, Mr-”

“Excuse me?”

Your shoulders relaxed the slightest bit when you heard the voice of your girlfriend, her heels clicking on the floor until she was standing beside you, a few feet away, “Why are you trying to fire my PA?”

“Fallon, she comes out in almost every single one of the photos that the press takes of you. She is not your babysitter. It’s ridiculous, a quarter of the articles that have been written about you in the past five months have been speculating that the reason you broke up with Michael was because (Y/n) drove you apart and-”

“What is your point, Daddy?” Fallon challenged, her arms crossed. “She’s my personal assistant, her entire job is following me around.”

“Going to clubs, parties, and galas with you is not in her job description,” He said, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. “She doesn’t need to be there.”

You felt uneasy, the two of them talking about you as if you weren't even there.

“No, but I want her there. There’s no harm in befriending your staff,” Fallon said simply, eyebrows raised, as if she wanted him to argue with her because she knew she would win.

“Fallon-”

“I’m the one who gives her a paycheck, so it isn’t up to you. I’m not having this conversation again,” She left Blake with no room to say anything else, her eyes flicking to you for a moment. “(Y/n), go get me a coffee and come up to my room so we can discuss the schedule for this weekend.”

“Yes, Ms Carrington,” you nodded, taking your leave before either of them could say anything more to you or each other.

You made it to Fallon’s room five minutes later. You’d taken a bit longer in the kitchen because you had to bug one of the chefs so they would give you a croissant for Fallon.

You knocked on the door with your knuckles, waited two seconds, and then opened the door to see Fallon in one of the lounge chairs in the corner of her room, doing something on her phone, “You took a long time to get here,” She said without looking up.

“Sorry, I was getting you a croissant,” You walked over and placed the plate on the low table that stood in between the two chairs before taking your usual seat from when the two of you went over her schedule, on her bed bench that was at the foot of her bed.

Fallon slid her phone underneath one of her thighs and smiled softly at you as she took the plate into her lap so she could eat the baked good, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” You shook your head with a small blush spreading on your cheeks from the way that she looked at you, unlocking your iPad and pulling up the schedule. “Your father has two meetings scheduled for you this weekend, one Saturday and one Sunday-” “Cancel the one on Sunday, he knows I don’t take more than one meeting during the weekend unless it’s urgent,” She interrupted before taking a bite out of her croissant.

“Okay, Sam requested that I add ‘go to the mall with Sam’ on your schedule, so I fit it after the meeting on Saturday, but of course, if you want it to be cancelled I can always do that. Steven asked that I make a dinner reservation for him, you, and Sam, for the Seafood Room on Saturday night-”

Fallon interrupted you, once again, with noises of protest as she tried to swallow the bit of croissant she had in her mouth quickly, “Not happening, you know Saturday night is our night.”

“I know, but you haven’t gone out to dinner with them in two months, and besides it’s almost Steven’s birthday.”

“I don’t care, cancel the reservation,” Fallon said sternly, placing the plate back on the table once she had finished crossing her legs at the ankles.

You sighed and nodded, “Alright, and finally, Sunday is the banquet for the children’s organization I told you about on Monday.”

Fallon’s eyebrows furrowed at the way you said it, “But?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go with you,” You bit the inside of your lip, nervous for the reaction she was going to have.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “You have to stop letting my father get to you.”

“He’s right though,” You shook your head, opening a tab to search up her name. “Look, there’s articles about us all over the internet.”

“When will you learn that I don’t give a damn about what the press says? I’ve been scrutinized by them since I was a child, I can handle it. I don’t care if they call me lonely and desperate or if they say that you’re trying to ‘befriend’ me for money or whatever it is they’re coming up with.”

“You read that one?” You asked, a wince on your features.

Fallon sighed, looking between your eyes before standing up and going to sit beside you, taking the iPad from your hands and putting it behind her so she could take one of your hands in her own, “Do the articles bother you?”

You bit the inside of your lip again, nervous habit, before speaking, “Kind of.”

“Okay,” Fallon nodded, trying to think of a solution. “I know you aren’t used to this stuff and keeping us a secret is probably really stressful for you... If doing this - us, is too much, I understand-”

You frowned and shook your head, tears pooling in your eyes at the idea of what she was trying to say, “No, I love you, I love us. Stupid articles are nothing, I can ignore them.”

“I don’t want you upset over this stuff, baby,” Fallon frowned a bit and reached the hand she wasn’t holding yours with up to cup your cheek, running her finger along your cheekbone. “Although I don’t exactly think you should be reading these articles, I know you do whatever you want, but if you read one that bothers you, you come to me and I’ll make the calls I need to get it taken down, okay?”

“Yes, darling,” You smiled softly and nodded, leaning into her hand.

Fallon smiled, “For now I rather enjoy no one knowing about us. It’s so private and I guess it feels more intimate in a way? But, I do eventually want to announce that we’re dating, so I want to tackle these issues now so you’re hopefully much more comfortable in the future.”

“Really?”

“Of course, baby,” She smiled softly and leaned forward to kiss you languidly.

You sighed into the kiss before she pulled away slowly and kissed the corner of your mouth before sitting back, “So, I’m either going with you, or I’m not going at all. It’s a shame that all those children will have to suffer the consequences of your decision,” She said, making a face.

You rolled your eyes, and ducked your head to hide your smile, “Fine, I’ll go, asshole.”

Fallon grinned and clapped her hands, she had known she was going to get her way, but was happy that you weren’t miserable about it, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

------

Your brow furrowed when you got a call from Fallon at around 5:30 while you were out running an errand for her. She was supposed to be in a late meeting with her father, Jeff Coulby, and a few investors for Carrington Atlantic, an odd and dangerous mix of people.

You answered the call and heard it connect to the bluetooth of the car, “Hello?”

“Can you come get me? Please,” Fallon asked, her voice sounding a bit shaky on the other line.

“Yes, of course, where are you?”

...

You pulled into a parking spot on the side of the road of the address Fallon gave you, “Okay, I’m here, babe. Can I hang up now?”

Fallon let out an ‘mhm’ and ended the call, and it took you 30 seconds to see her walking out from between two buildings towards your car, which you unlocked and waited for her to get into the passenger seat and close the door before you spoke.

“Are you okay?” You asked, outstretching your hand and tilting her head towards yours when she wouldn’t look at you.

“‘M fine,” She nodded, her eyes watering.

“Okay I get that you didn’t want to talk about it over the phone but don’t think for a second that I’m believing that crap. You look like a kicked puppy.”

She groaned and closed her eyes for a moment, “There were no investors. Just Daddy and Jeff-”

“Hold on, since when do they tolerate each other?” You asked, resting a hand on her knee.

“I don’t know but they apparently do now. Or at least, when it’s convenient,” You could almost hear her roll her eyes as you turned forward again to pull out of your parking space.

“What did they do?” You urged her on and took your hand off her leg to put it on the center console, but she quickly grabbed it and laced her fingers with yours before putting your hand in her lap.

“They cornered me about something I leaked to the press, not Crystal related this time, and- the whole thing was really embarrassing, I don’t really want to get into it right now.”

You squeezed her hand gently and nodded, “Okay, that’s perfectly fine. Though I have to say I had no idea you leaked something, I haven’t checked any articles in like, two days.”

Fallon chuckled, “Oh boy, just wait til you read these.”

------

“Screw you, I’m not going anywhere. I need to talk to you about the C-R-A-Z- why does the crazy lady have a gun?” Fallon asked, her jaw slack.

You were on your way to follow Fallon into the dining room, but stopped when you heard what was going on. You turned on your heel, quickly and quietly walking towards where you knew Fallon kept her gun.

“She’s not crazy, she’s been faking her brain injury,” Crystal replied calmly.

“Why fake such a miserable life? Actually- that’s a rhetorical question. I think I know exactly why. I think you’ve been faking lots of things.”

“Sit down,” Claudia said, gun pointed at Fallon.

“You never had a brain injury, did you Claudia?” Fallon asked, shaking her head.

“Of course I did, I almost died,” She said quickly.

“That’s true, she and Mathew were in a terrible car accident,” Steven interjected.

Crystal cut in, too, “I remember it.”

“I bet,” Claudia spat before turning her head back to Fallon. “That was the night I found out he was cheating on me, I just didn’t know who the other woman was.”

“All you knew was that one minute your husband was cheating, the next he wasn’t going anywhere because he had to take care of you, and then you got better,” Fallon said with a raised eyebrow.

...

When you got close enough again to be able to hear, you heard Fallon speaking, “Girls can be engineers, too, Dad. When I was a kid I told you I wanted to be one so you introduced me to Mathew, who told me his wife was an engineer. That was before your accident, of course.”

You smiled to yourself as you listened, God you loved her. You clicked the safety of her handgun off, just waiting for the right moment to come in.

“You killed him, you killed Mathew,” You heard Crystal say.

“No, I loved him. You killed him,” Claudia replied, which made you furrow your brow and you almost let out a scoff at how ridiculous this lady was. “He told me he was leaving me even though I was sick.”

“Even though you were faking it,” Fallon corrected.

“He didn’t know that. You took him from me, and once this snake ran me over, I saw my chance to do something about it-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” You said, stepping into the room, the barrel of the gun pointed straight at Claudia, using one hand to aim and the other hand used to steady the gun, just like Fallon taught you. “but I think you guys have let her pity party run for too long.”

And with that, Claudia faltered and you took your shot, shooting the gun right out of her hand before giving Fallon her gun, “I think this is for you.” Fallon smiled proudly and took it, taking her aim at Claudia, who was not left defenseless, “I wouldn’t try anything,” She said with a smirk once she saw Crystal pick up the gun Claudia had been pointing at her. “Not sure if you’ll be able to pull it off as well as you pulled off the brain injury.”

#fallon carrington x reader #fallon carrington oneshot #fallon carrington imagine #fallon carrington x fem!reader #wlw imagines #wlw #sapphic #fallon carrington #dynasty

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 9}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: SURPRISE. Enjoy this chapter a day early. I had my days wrong and legit thought it was Thursday, but since it was ready…. Y’all get to enjoy the spoils of my frazzled brain. 😘

Nesta waited with Nyx in the waiting room of the pediatric office.

His rash didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but she wanted to get ahead of it before it became a problem. He was absolutely enamored with the TV playing a bright children’s show in the corner, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at him as she checked her email.

The usual stuff greeted her, some open catering order invoices for the restaurant, a few wayward resumes from high school kids that had managed to get her personal email, and, of course, spam.

“Nyx?”

Nesta’s head shot up, and Nyx began looking around, wondering who had called his name. Nesta was instantly on her feet, pushing Nyx’s stroller toward the door that the nurse held open.

She smiled. “Hello, Nyx.”

Nyx babbled in greeting.

The nurse chuckled. “Such a cute little guy. You’re Nesta, I assume?”

“I am,” Nesta confirmed. “I’ve not been here before. It’s a nice office.”

The small talk went on. Nesta had never been a fan of small talk, of polite pleasantries.

It just made her feel awkward.

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. He just kept babbling and babbling and babbling, without a care in the world.

The nurse led them into a room and she checked Nyx’s height and weight before telling them that the doctor would be there shortly.

Nesta had picked Nyx up, looking around at all the educational posters on the walls, when a quick knock sounded on the door and a man cracked open the door.

Nesta blinked once as he stepped inside, not expecting the tall, muscled man that appeared in front of her.

“You must be Nesta,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Kamaras.”

This man was Nyx’s pediatrician? She had known that Nyx’s doctor was male, Feyre had mentioned him in some stories a few times, but Nesta had always pictured an elderly man.

Not this sculpted, handsome man, who could easily graced the cover of one of the ridiculous smutty books she kept well hidden in her bedroom.

She shook his hand, finally remembering how to speak. “Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”

Very nice to meet you, she added in her head.

His face sombered. “I was very sorry to hear about Rhys and Feyre. They were great people.”

And just like that, Nesta was back on earth, holding her sister’s son in her arms, standing where her sister should have been. She tried to keep her smiling from dimming, but she cleared her throat. “Thank you. It’s…been an adjustment.”

As if they both remembered why they were here, Dr. Karamas blinked and said, “Yes, Nyx, right. You told the nurse he has a rash of some sort?”

“It’s just a diaper rash but it seems to be getting infected,” Nesta explained. “I’ve tried a few different things but nothing seems to be working.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, let’s take a look.”

Dr. Karamas took one glance and whistled. “Definitely infected. I’m going to give you a steroid cream. Put it on after every diaper change. It should clear up within the week.”

Nesta let loose a breath. “Oh, great, thank you.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

He had a nice smile.

He scribbled something down on his clipboard, signed it, and handed it to Nesta. “The number on the bottom is my office number. If you have any other concerns, no matter how small, give it a call.”

Nesta looked at Nyx’s prescription and the number that was beneath it, along with his name.

Balthazar Karamas.

“Thank you, Dr. Karamas,” Nesta said, and she meant it. She was still new at this, and every little medical thing concerned her.

If it wasn’t normal, she was freaking the fuck out.

“Bal, please,” he said, taking her hand again, shaking it. At the look on her face, he added, “I work with kids. They do better on a familiar name basis than with titles like doctor and mister.”

She nodded, smiling. “Bal, then.”

Nesta was getting Nyx resituated in his stroller in the waiting room, about to head back out into the bright sunlight, when she felt someone approach. She wasn’t expecting to find Balthazar standing a few feet away. She quickly checked the stroller, making sure she had her purse, the diaper bag, and, of course, Nyx himself. “Did I forget something?” She asked, finding everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said, pausing in front of her. “I just…can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

It was strange, since Nesta felt the same way.

“You’re not Illyrian,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, nor was it rude. Just an assumption. She only knew of a few other Illyrians in the area, and Balthazar definitely had the same coloring as Cassian and Az. And Rhys used to have. She, pale skinned and blue eyed, certainly did not.

“I’m not,” she said, at last.

Bal chuckled.

That smile, yet again, had her toes curling.

“Interesting,” he said, that smile remaining. “Well, maybe we can figure out just where we’ve run into each other before...over lunch this weekend?”

Nesta blinked. A date?

“Not a date,” he said, quickly, reading her mind. “I would never ask the aunt of my patient on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional.” Nesta laughed. “Just…two acquaintances figuring out where they were previously acquainted.”

“Lunch sounds nice,” Nesta said, unable to shake her own smile. “Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Bal agreed.

They set up a time and place and then Nesta was out the door.

Cassian’s day had been as long as it was the day before. It seemed that the teenagers visiting Velaris had gotten the message from their friends that Cassian’s bar was checking every single ID of every single drink that was ordered. So instead of being slammed and busy and frustrated the whole day, he had been bored out of his mind.

He’d gone through his inventory sheets twice, ordering anything they might remotely run out of in the next few weeks.

It didn’t help that Kallias had the day off, covering the evening shift tonight, leaving him alone with his thoughts all day.

And those thoughts constantly reminded him that he’d been an absolute dick to Nesta the night before.

As he drove home, he contemplated the apology he needed to make.

Although Cassian believed his intentions were typically good, apologizing wasn’t one of his strengths. He ran through what he’d say a hundred times, had come up with an unbearable amount of ways in which he could apologize, but everything he thought of wasn’t good enough.

He knew Nesta well enough to know when she would laugh in his face.

He’d come up with about fifteen different scenarios of how this could go by the time he pulled into the driveway, parking next to her little car. He took a deep breath before unlocking the front door and letting himself in.

The house was quiet, neither Nesta or Nyx were anywhere to be found. It was barely six-thirty, but he knew Nesta was taking Nyx to the doctor earlier in the day, which may have tired him out so thoroughly that he was already down for the night. A peek into his cracked bedroom door confirmed it, his little hand curled next his face as he slept.

When he finally tracked down Nesta, on the back patio, her feet propped up in a lounge chair, he definitely hadn’t expected to find her with a bottle of wine. Or what was left of it, at least.

The mostly empty bottle of wine sat next to the baby monitor.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Nesta’s sigh was the only acknowledgement she showed.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

She shrugged and took a sip from her glass.

“Bad day?” He continued.

She shrugged again.

“Is this the silent treatment?” He asked.

“I assume you’d know,” she said.

Cassian began rubbing his temples. “Look, Nesta-.”

“I’m a little busy if you don’t mind,” she continued. “I prefer to relax alone.”

“This is my house, too,” he said, shutting the sliding door behind him as he made his way onto the patio. “What if I want to sit out here with you?”

“Then I’d suggest continuing the silence,” she said, not looking at him, her face tilting back up to the sky, where it had been when he’d come outside.

So he sat down on a nearby lounge chair, and didn’t say a word.

Or he tried, but he didn’t last five minutes. The words that had building inside him all day needed to come out. He’d rehearsed different things he wanted to say, with reasons for why he was such an asshole, and promises to try and be better from now on. But as he looked over at her, the starlight on her face, all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Nesta said nothing. “About?”

“The way I acted last night,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the lawn. “It was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, draining her glass.

Cassian’s eyes shot her direction. “I’m trying to apologize. You can at least accept my apology so we can move on.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” Nesta said, shrugging. “Words are meaningless.”

“Not mine,” Cassian argued. “I mean what I say.”

“Then you meant what you said last night?” Nesta pushed.

Cassian’s lips snapped shut and his jaw hardened. “No.”

“So, you’re a liar, then?” Nesta asked.

He groaned in frustration. “You’re infuriating.”

She didn’t deign to reply to that.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I was…embarrassed about how you found me the night before. I don’t… I don’t like to be seen like that.” He paused, but then he held a hand out in between them. “Not- not that that happens often. I mean, I don’t make a habit of having emotional breakdowns.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He cleared his throat again, remembering little things he had felt badly about through the day. “Nesta, I’m sorry I acted like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate the dinner you made me. I was rude as hell and you did nothing to deserve it.”

After a second, she glanced away, out over the pool. He figured she wasn’t going to reply, and he stood, heading back for the back door.

He had slid the door open and was halfway inside when she said, “If you’re hungry, I made lasagna for dinner. It should still be warm on the stove.”

He turned back and found a hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks, Nes.”

A continuation of his apology, Cassian had told Nesta he'd be on baby duty for the rest of the night, waking Nyx up for his bottle, granting her leave to do whatever she wanted. She elected to finish off the bottle of wine, open another, and relax in the bathtub with a book.

The book of choice was definitely not appropriate to read in front of Nyx.

Or Cassian, for that matter.

She had appreciated his apology, even though a part of her still wanted to be pissed. There were very few things that agitated her more than male bravado, and Cassian was the spitting image of it. Embarrassed because he was emotional? Please. Get the fuck over it.

Then again, she could say that all day, but in honesty, if the positions were reversed, she would have reacted very, very similarly.

If not worse.

Nesta had always felt too much, far more than either of her sisters. It wasn’t like they were robots, of course. Elain had a bigger heart than anyone Nesta had ever known, and Feyre had been a light to be around.

But, Nesta…

She felt it all, and she felt it far too deeply. She had learned long ago to shut those emotions off, to let them go, to not let her emotions show. They could just be used as a weakness.

And she found life worked better that way.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

Nesta sat up straight, even though the door was locked, in a sudden panic over the fact that she was nude and reading smut.

“Yeah?”

“Nyx is going to bed,” he said. “Just thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

“I- Ah- Just a minute,” she called, setting the book down and reaching down to grab for her towel. She was out and damn near opened the door in just her towel again, but remembered their agreed upon rules. She snatched her robe, wrapping it around herself, towel and all.

She opened the door, Cassian standing just by her bed, and Nyx had his head resting on his shoulder, rubbing his little eyes.

The image was so pure and innocent that Nesta couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps towards them, reaching out to brush her fingers down Nyx’s soft cheek. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

She regretted it almost immediately, as bringing herself that close in Nyx also inadvertently brought her to Cassian. His heady, nutmeg-and-campfire scent enveloping her, reminding her of the morning she’d come downstairs and found him as naked as she was now. She stepped back quickly, clearing her throat. “And goodnight to you, Cassian,” she murmured. She pointed back behind her towards the bathtub, towards her book, and said, “I’m going to read a little longer and then go to bed myself.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Nes.”

The nickname didn’t bother her as much as it previously had, she realized as he made his way back out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t let herself think about that, did her best not to think about him, as she sunk back into the warm water.

Nyx had gone down easily for Cassian, for the first time ever, thanks to the frozen toy he’d gnawed on to relieve the pain of his incoming tooth. He’d decided he deserved a treat, too, after that, and had sat down to watch the hockey game, a beer in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Cassian paused, glancing down at his watch, seeing that it was pushing nine o’clock. He stood, after a second knock sounded, making his way to the door. He opened it to find a woman dressed in a suit on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Nazari, I assume?” She asked, extending her hand.

He took it, on instinct, shaking it, but he blinked. He repeated, “Yeah… Can I help you?”

Her brows twitched together. “My name is Alis Birch. I’m with social services.”

Cassian continued to shake her hand, staring.

“The courts told you we’d be making random visits to check in on Nyx,” she continued.

Oh, fuck, Cassian thought. Oh, fucking hell.

They’d completely forgotten about those random visits, in the past few weeks they’d been doing this, distracted by getting used to not only being parents, but getting used to each other as well.

“I see,” Cassian said, nodding. “I… I’ll…be right back.”

“I’d like to come in-.”

Cassian shut the door, quickly set his beer on the table in the entryway, and hauled ass upstairs.

He threw open the door to Nesta’s bedroom, only to found it empty, so he continued on, throwing open the bathroom door.

Where Nesta was still in the tub, completely nude, a book in hand, one hand disappeared beneath the water. Her head was thrown back in utter ecstasy.

Until Cassian barged in, anyway.

“Shit!” he yelled, just as Nesta gasped and sent the water sloshing out of the tub, over the porcelain edges.

Cassian quickly shut the door behind him, closing them into the bathroom together, and put his face in his hands. “Sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, and he could hear her pulling the plug.

“It’s important, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

“If the house isn’t on fire or Nyx isn’t dying, it’s not important,” she cried, ducking behind the walls of the tub.

“It’s pretty fucking important,” he said, turning to give her a semblance of privacy. He heard her stand up, water moving and quiet dripping, before her feet landed on the rug outside the tub. “The social worker is here.”

She froze and he dared a look back at her. Thankfully, she was wrapped in her towel again, one arm pushed through her robe. “The social worker is here? Now?” He nodded, and she looked at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to the glass on the small table by the tub. It was the second one she’d had that night. “But it’s late,” she protested.

“It’s a random, surprise visit,” he replied. “I left her outside, but-.”

“You didn’t let her in?” Nesta demanded, eyes widening. “Cauldron, Cass, that makes us look so guilty.”

He blinked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “But it doesn’t make us look good.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to come up here and find you doing that.” He gestured to the tub.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. He figured his own were going to permanently be the shade of red they were now.

No, that was the last thing he ever expected to catch Nesta doing.

“Just… Go let her in and stall her while I get dressed,” she sighed, crossing her arms, waiting for him to leave.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded, and hurried back down the stairs. When he reopened the front door, Alis Birch stood there. Her expression was hard, intimidating.

Cassian could feel himself sweat.

He prayed that Nesta somehow sobered up and got the fuck downstairs, because there was no way in hell he could do this without her.

#snacmc lawki #life as we know it #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc

202 notes · View notes

etherrreal · 3 years

Text

“resentment”

Pairing: oikawa x fem!reader Genre: angst Summary: you used to love oikawa’s determination, his drive, his willingness to give his all and sacrifice everything to get the things he wants. now those are the same things that make you resent him. WC: 6,700 Warnings: lots of angst, explicit language, reader’s kinda petty but so is oikawa, relationship isn’t toxic or anything but it could def be better A/N: shoutout to @shadowkunoichi for this request! your ask gave me enough serotonin to last for the rest of the week <3 it’s also important to note that the moment i saw oikawa’s smug ass face on screen my brain and heart immediately went “this the one” so here’s some pain ft. my favorite setter -Dawn

The first few times Oikawa cancels your dates for extended volleyball practice, you tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. You’re disappointed, of course –you barely see him enough as it is, despite living together for three months, despite dating for a total of eight– but it’s not the end of the world. It’s just another compromise you have to make, and it probably won’t be the last.

That’s what relationships are about, anyway, you remind yourself firmly, whenever the silence of your too-big for one person apartment starts to get to you. Compromise.

You’re no stranger to compromise, either. You can’t be, not when you’re dating a pro-athlete. You know better than anyone how talented Oikawa is, how admired. He’s worked so hard, and you’re so proud of him. You may not know much about sports, but you do know that your boyfriend has an amazing career ahead of him.

And while the selfish part of you would like to keep him all to yourself, you also know it won’t always be possible, and you tell yourself you’re okay with that. You love Oikawa, and you support every single one of his dreams, even if doing so means you have to eat dinner on your own sometimes.

It won’t always be this way, you tell yourself. It’s just for now. And it definitely doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It helps that he’s always sorry about it. You hear it in his voice whenever he calls you to tell you he won’t be home until late, see it in the guilty way his eyes search for yours through the screen when he FaceTimes you to let you know you shouldn’t wait up for him. He’s even more torn up about it than you are most of the time, blowing your phone up with apologetic voice notes and text messages with too many emojis.

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: babe 😔😔

[you]:: yes baby?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😔😔😔😔

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😩😩😭😭

[you]:: oh boy

[you]:: you’re not gonna be home in time for dinner, are you?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i don’t think so 😩😔 we have that game coming up so we’ll be practicing all night

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m so sorry baby ☹️☹️ but i’ll have to miss dinner again 😭😭

[you]:: it’s fine, i’ll just find someone else to share my chicken with

[you]:: speaking of, u have ushiwaka’s #? i wanna see something

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: STOPPPP 😭😭 i’m sorry!!!

[you]:: allegedly

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: stop 😭😭 i mean it!! i love you pls don’t hate me 😩☹️

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m really sorry babe ☹️☹️

[you]:: if ur apology doesn’t include dollar signs then i don’t wanna hear it

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: check ur email

[you]:: ??

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 👀😇

You check your email, and sure enough, there’s a gift card there to your favorite clothing store, along with a note that reads “financial compensation for putting up with me <3 also if u ever share chicken with ushiwaka i’ll cry and then die so pls don’t.” It makes you laugh so hard you forget about being upset with him in the first place.

[you]:: i was joking!! u didn’t actually have to send me anything u weirdo

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i know 😇😏😘

And when he does make it home that night with an apology on his lips, a bouquet of flowers, and a promise that he’ll make it up to you, it’s hard to do anything else besides forgive him. Because you know that no matter how crazy both of your schedules are, no matter how lonely you might feel without him at your side, he loves you more than anything, and you love him as much in return. And for a while, that’s enough.

Until it isn’t.

You’re thankful to have successfully made it through your first year of grad school with just a caffeine addiction and minor bags under your eyes, but not having to attend your classes or meet with your professors over the break means you’re at the apartment a lot more. You still have your job, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore Oikawa’s absence.

It’s not just dates he’s missing anymore. It’s family events, outings with your friends, getaway trips the two of you planned weeks in advance.

You know it’s not his fault. He has things he wants to accomplish, goals he set for himself long before he met you. The Olympics are coming up, and he needs to be ready. You can’t blame him for staying late to get in some extra practice, or for having to attend events with his teammates and his fans instead of you.

You can’t blame him for any of it, at least not without feeling selfish and unsupportive, and somehow that just makes it worse.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to build up the courage to talk to him about it. You almost don’t want to bring it up at all, but after weeks of missed dates and apology bouquets, of waking up without him and going to sleep before he gets home, you crumble. You don’t think you can keep grinning and bearing it anymore, not without starting to resent him.

You confront him while he’s sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of your shared apartment. It’s rare he doesn’t have a game on the weekend, even rarer he gets to spend the afternoon with you. It almost makes you reconsider –will this ruin your time together?– but you hold fast. You know that if you don’t bring it up now, then you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that much more silent heartache.

Oikawa, for his part, does well to listen as you speak. He watches you intently, pretty brown eyes soft and searching, as you tell him about how neglected you’re feeling, how lonely.

You know he’s not doing it on purpose. You know he’s meant every single one of his apologies, and that this is what you signed up for when you agreed to be in a relationship with him. And you love how driven he is, how determined he is to succeed.

You just...you miss him. That’s what it boils down to in the end: how much you miss him. You miss him now more than that time he left to spend a month back home in Japan while you stayed in Argentina, despite the fact that you’re in the same country this time, despite the fact that you share the same apartment. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s true.

“I know your career is important, and I would never try to get in the way of that,” you tell him, quietly, tiredly. There’s an exhausted air around you he’s never seen before, the kind of whispered sadness that breaks his heart. “But sometimes, Tooru...sometimes it feels like I’m dating a ghost. And I’m not mad at you, or angry, I’m just...lonely.”

You finally look at him, and the emotion in his eyes startles you. He’s actually tearing up –“you’re such a crybaby,” you like to tease him when his eyes water during sad movies, but you always comfort him anyway– and it’s enough to make your eyes fill with tears, too. He looks so sad, so broken, like knowing he’s hurt you –even if it’s been completely unintentional– hurts him too.

He’s quick to stand and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You return the embrace, resting your head against his chest while one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, and you can tell by the way his voice shakes that he means it. “I know things have been crazy lately, but that’s no excuse for leaving you here alone. I never want you to feel like you’re anything besides the most important person in my life. I love you so much, and I promise I’m going to fix this. Things will get better, I swear.”

And in that moment, you believe him. You trust him, after all, and you know he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. So you let him mumble reassurances into your hair, let him kiss your breath away and shower you in the affection you’ve been missing for far too long.

It’s so easy to get lost in it, lost in him. Too easy.

He’s always been like that; charismatic and witty, magnetic and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s totally gorgeous, too. You knew, from the moment you met him, that if you ever let yourself fall in love with him, you’d be in trouble. It’s why you never took any of his advances seriously, at least not in the beginning.

But he was able to chip at your resolve with every teasing smile and playful wink, every reverent touch and whispered words meant just for you. He let you get to know him; the real him, not that flippant and perfect pretty boy facade he presents to the rest of the world, and so of course you fell for him, because how could you not?

Oikawa is stubborn and prideful, exhausting and even sometimes petty, but he makes you feel like you’re the strongest person he knows. He looks at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever want to see. He makes you laugh and keeps you on your toes, and you know right away –before you moved in together, before you told him you loved him– that you will never love anyone the way you love him, because no one else will ever be able to compare.

That’s why it’s so easy for you to believe him now. Because you know he loves you and that you love him, and the two of you are determined to make this relationship work. So when he promises that things will change, that he’ll be more present from here on out, you believe him.

It’s the first promise he’s ever made to you that he doesn’t keep.

For every event Oikawa does bother to make it to, he misses two more. Your parents, who adore him, wonder why they never see him anymore. Your friends start to ask if you even still have a boyfriend. You find yourself asking the very same thing.

You stop inviting him to events at your university and lunches with your friends. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment anymore, and you figure it’s easier to just save yourself from the inevitable. The apology gifts he gives you start to feel hollow, empty, just like your apartment. You stop opening them, letting them pile up in the corner of your living room. Eventually, he stops giving them to you.

You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if it upsets you even more.

The Olympics get closer each day. Oikawa’s practices become more intense and even longer than they already were. There are so many things he needs to do now: games to play, meet and greets to attend. Sometimes if he’s out too late he just doesn’t come home at all. The team sets him up at a hotel, and he stays there for the night instead.

It gets harder to catch his scent on his pillow where it lays beside you in bed, untouched and forgotten. It should hurt you more, but it doesn’t.

There’s an event being held back in Japan, promising a night of drinking and dancing and schmoozing. All the investors and international players and coaches will be there, and you promised a while back to be Oikawa’s plus one.

The vindictive part of you wants to cancel on him, just so he knows how it feels, but you decide you can put your pettiness aside for a few nights if it means free booze and food and a comfortable stay at some ridiculously fancy hotel. You wonder if that’ll be enough to fill the hole he’s made in your heart.

Besides, you want to remind him that you’re the kind of person who keeps your word, even if he’s not.

The flight is long and exhausting. So is finding your hotel and forcing yourself to get dressed, but you get through it. Oikawa looks unfairly stunning in his suit, but you try not to notice. He arrives at the party with you on his arm, wearing a silky gown that matches his tie and jewelry that glitters whenever it catches the light.

You’ve barely talked to each other the whole way here, but at the party, amongst his teammates, old rivals, and friends, you’re the perfect couple. You smile, laugh, and dance exactly when you’re supposed to. You play your role so well that no one notices how numb you are, not even Oikawa, even though he’s supposed to know you better than anyone else.

Maybe that’s why you find yourself at the open bar. Oikawa’s off mingling with god knows who, swamped by dozens of people who are always seeking his favor, trapped in his orbit. They praise his hard work, his tenacity, his determination. Once upon a time, you would’ve done the same.

But things are different between you now. What used to be Oikawa’s endearing stubbornness is now an outright refusal to meet you halfway. His determination to be the best has become an inability to compromise; his passion has become obsession. It’s strange to think how all the things that used to make you love him now just make you resent him.

But the liquor here is free and flowing so you knock it back like water, and it’s almost enough to make you forget your heartbreak, your anger. Almost.

All the drinking eventually sends you to the bathroom. You touch up your makeup as best as you can and wash your hands with one of the several different soap options, exiting the bathroom noticeably drunker than you were when you went in.

You’re off-balance enough that when you run into what feels like a brick wall but is actually just a tall, broad-shouldered man, you stumble and nearly fall over. He reacts quicker than you do, catching your elbow and steadying you back on your feet.

He asks you if you’re all right and you reassure him that you are. You swear you’ve seen his face before, but you’re too tipsy right now to bother to remember where.

“I appreciate the help,” you say sincerely, patting his shoulder. “But I promise I’m okay. Thank you again, really.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you, and he’s proven right approximately five seconds later, when you turn on your heel to leave and nearly fall over again. Once more, he’s there to catch you.

You try to convince him that you’re okay; you’re just a little bit tipsy from all the champagne earlier, but he guides you to one of the stupid velvet couches in the hallway and makes you sit down. He tells you to stay there and wait for him, and you want to protest but he’s already gone before you can make any real sort of argument.

When he returns, it’s with a bottle of water, which you sheepishly accept. He stays with you as you drink it, and your vision and stomach start to settle. You thank him again for all his help. He tells you it’s no big deal, and when he introduces himself as Ushijima Wakatoshi, you laugh so hard you almost spit water all over yourself.

Ushijima raises an eyebrow at you. “Is there something about my name that amuses you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” It takes more effort than it should, but you’re thankfully able to force yourself to stop laughing. Talk about ironic encounters. “It’s just– I’ve heard of you before.”

“Are you a fan of volleyball?”

You resist the urge to snort, sending him an amused smile instead. “Something like that.”

The two of you chat for a little while, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant conversation. You quite like his company, and you appreciate how he’s willing to keep an eye on you solely out of the kindness of his heart, just to make sure you’re really okay. It’s hardly necessary anymore –the water’s doing a great job at sobering you up– but it’s a nice distraction from the reason you started drinking in the first place.

Or it was, until you start to hear that very same reason calling your name from somewhere down the hall. His voice gets closer and closer, and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself.

“What the hell?”

You open your eyes and suddenly Oikawa is in front of you, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a deep frown. You can only imagine what you look like to him right now, low-eyed and tipsy and sitting on a couch next to his oldest rival.

You can already see the anger in his eyes, the suspicion. He’s jealous, and it’s absolutely ridiculous because he has no right to be. Not after ignoring you for so long. Not after reminding you over and over again that when it comes down to it, you’ll always be second place to his career.

You haven’t been flirting with Ushijima, but now you wonder if maybe you should have. There’s a bitter part of you that wants to hurt Oikawa as much as he’s hurt you, even if it’s only for a moment.

Ushijima seems completely oblivious to the situation, which you’re sure just infuriates your boyfriend even more. He’s described to you in great detail how one of the things he finds most frustrating about Ushijima is how completely and utterly unbothered he is by everything.

“Oikawa,” the man closest to you greets, standing up. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ushiwaka.” The smile your boyfriend directs to his old rival is tight-lipped and void of any of its usual warmth. Oikawa’s gaze settles on you next, eyes narrowing even further. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is plain, dull, as you tilt your head at him mockingly. “Do I know you?”

“Stop being cute.” The way he practically snaps it makes it clear he doesn’t think you’re being cute at all. In fact, he actually looks pretty pissed, and you almost smile at the realization. As petty as he can be, it’s clear you’re better at this than he is. “It’s getting late. It’s time for us to leave.”

Ushijima’s gaze slides over to you. “Do you know him?”

But you’re not looking at him. You’re looking straight at Oikawa, at the tenseness of his shoulders, the way he’s on the verge of fuming. Apparently, just the idea of you being alone with his oldest rival is more concerning to him than the fact that you’ve barely spent any time with each other in the past two months. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Of course.” You stand, closing the short distance between yourself and Oikawa. “He’s my boyfriend. My loving, devoted, perfect boyfriend.”

You place the hand that’s not holding your water bottle against his chest, perching on your toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, the stain of your lipstick remains, and you wonder if he can feel the resentment in it.

“I just forget sometimes, is all. You know, since we never see each other.”

You don’t bother to examine the look on his face. You can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You turn to Ushijima instead, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Ushijima. It was a pleasure to officially meet you. Have a good night.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, down the hall and past several magnificent paintings, past any apology you would normally be ready to offer. It’s petty and deliberate, the kind of reaction you didn’t think you were capable of before this, but it’s all you have left. Oikawa doesn’t care, hasn’t cared for a while actually, so neither will you.

You don’t know what he says to Ushijima or if he even says anything at all, but you do hear his footsteps when he runs after you. They slow as he gets closer, but you don’t stop walking, don’t turn back to look.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What– what the fuck was all that back there, huh?”

You stop. Slowly, you turn to look at him, but you don’t say anything. You just stand there, watching, waiting, feeling absolutely nothing as you do.

“‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’” It’s a poor imitation of your voice, but the intention is there. “So what, I don’t spend enough time with you and suddenly it’s okay for you to flirt with someone else?”

You laugh without humor. “That’s what you’re stuck on? The fact that I had a conversation with him and not the part where I said we never see each other? You truly have a gift, Tooru.”

The frown on his face deepens, but the anger in his eyes softens a little, replaced by a hint of guilt. There’s regret there, too, over not keeping the promise he made to you. You would be more moved by it if you weren’t so completely infuriated right now.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Not here.”

“Where should we have it then, hm? In the lobby? At the hotel? We’re damn sure not having it when we get home, because you’re never fucking there!”

You don’t mean to scream at him, but that’s what comes out. You’re not sure which one of you is more surprised by it. Oikawa stares at you, wide-eyed and stunned, as if you’ve just slapped him, and you stare back, breathing hard. You’re so focused on each other you don’t even notice you have an audience until you hear a new, familiar voice speak.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi steps between you, concerned and cautious.

He’s the only one here, thank god, but his appearance reminds you that this is definitely not the time or the place for any of this. You shouldn’t care who overhears you, but as angry as you are, you’re not selfish enough to air out your relationship’s problems in front of all of Oikawa’s friends and colleagues. You still love him, after all, even if it’s hurting you to do so.

Iwaizumi casts a wary glance between you and his best friend, almost like he’s preparing himself to play the unwilling referee in what seems to be an inevitable fight. Any other time, you might’ve laughed at the look on his face, but not now. “Everything okay, you two?”

It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, and right now Oikawa’s looking at you like he’s finally realizing that too.

The car ride back to the hotel is eerily silent. You and Oikawa share no words, no fleeting glances; you don’t even sit close enough to touch each other, not even accidentally. The ride up to your floor is spent in a similar fashion, a cold distance settling between you that’s never been there before.

Or maybe it’s been there for a while, and it took you screaming at him in the middle of a party for the two of you to notice it.

Miraculously, you make it into your room in one piece. The two of you remove your coats and shoes in that same suffocating silence. You make it to the bedroom without exchanging a single word, and he takes a seat on the bed while you sit in front of the vanity and begin removing your jewelry.

Another long stretch of silence later, and then he’s meeting your eyes in the mirror to ask, “Can we talk?”

You consider telling him to go fuck himself instead, but somehow you bite down the urge.

“About what?” You take off your necklace, a pretty golden chain with your birthstone on it that he got you for your birthday. “About how I wasn’t flirting with Ushijima? Because I wasn’t, if that’s what you’re still so torn up about.”

“I know you weren’t,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than you remember; that’s how long it’s been since you’ve really gotten the chance to look at him. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do. You were jealous.” Your earrings are the next to go, another gift from him. He’s scattered himself into so many pieces across your life; you’re not sure how you’ll ever be free of him, or if you’ll ever want to be. “But you had no reason to be. I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” He looks down, fidgets with his fingers, meets your gaze again through the mirror. His tie is loosened around his neck, making him look disheveled in just the way you like. “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Your tone is short, clipped, as you finally remove the last of your jewelry. “Is that all?”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, so that we can fix this. I mean, don’t you want to talk about everything, especially after tonight?”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Tooru.” You break your gaze from the mirror, turning to glance over your shoulder at him instead. “You know exactly what the problem is, just like I know you won’t do a single thing to change it. You can’t, because my feelings –our entire relationship– all of that stuff’s always going to come second to the things you want.”

The frown from earlier is back now, this time paired with a hard look, like he can’t believe you’re questioning his commitment, even though he’s given you dozens of reasons to do so. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” You rise to your feet, a dry, humorless laugh escaping your throat as you do. “Tell that to the countless dates you’ve missed. Tell that to the bed you hardly sleep in anymore, to all the times I’ve fallen asleep without you and then woken up only to realize you still weren’t there.”

The words feel heavy and bitter on your tongue, your anger growing the more you think about everything you’ve endured over the past few months, all the different ways he’s managed to disappoint you.

“There’s nothing untrue about it, Tooru. You just don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me I don’t care about you?” he demands. “Of course I care. I love you, dammit. How could you ever think I don’t?”

“How couldn’t I? God, have you seriously not heard a single thing I’ve said this entire time? I’m practically in this relationship by myself, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to change that!”

“You think I like having to leave you on your own so much? You think it doesn’t break my heart seeing the look on your face every time I have to tell you I can’t make it to all the things I want to be there for?” He’s on his feet now, hand jabbing at his chest, like if he could rip out his heart and show you the scars there, he would. “Because it does, okay? It makes me fucking miserable, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be there, Tooru!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you are. You’re yelling too, hands shaking, voice raw. “You’re supposed to be there when I need you, not make stupid promises you can’t keep! And even if you can’t be there all the time, you’re at least supposed to try!”

“I am trying! I’ve been trying this whole time, and you know that!” He sounds as exasperated and raw as you do, waving his arms around, red-faced and distressed. “You knew what my goals were before we started dating. I never hid them from you. You knew exactly what I wanted, you knew how hard I would have to work, how hard it would be for us, and you agreed to be with me anyway! You promised me you wouldn’t let it come between us!”

“Well, that was before I knew how fucking impossible it would be!”

There’s nothing productive being exchanged between the two of you anymore. You’re just screaming at each other. You call him obsessed and self-absorbed; he calls you needy and demanding. He tells you to grow up and stop asking for so much, and you tell him he’s chasing a pointless dream.

You’re not trying to compromise with each other, or trying to make the other see your point of view. You both just want to hurt each other, and you do.

You’re crying by the end of it; so is he, but you both refuse to admit defeat. It’s one of the many things you have in common: your stubbornness. You’re out of breath and hurting and there’s a small part of you that just wants him to hold you, but at the same time, you can’t stand the sight of him anymore.

You storm out of the room before he gets the chance to, looking back to catch him throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. You throw yourself onto the couch and opt to sleep there for the night, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll probably end up strangling each other.

Oikawa, for once, is wise enough not to follow you, but there’s a quiet voice inside your heart that wishes he did.

You wake up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a migraine. The price of crying yourself to sleep, you suppose. Your appetite is gone but you know that if you don’t eat anything soon the pain behind your skull will only get worse, so you force yourself to stand from the couch.

You step on something hard, eyes widening at the indignant noise of protest it lets out in response. You lose your footing almost immediately, toppling over onto the carpet. It’s everything you can do to throw out your hands and avoid smacking your forehead against the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You scowl when you realize it’s not a random object you’ve tripped over, but rather your own boyfriend, who for some inconceivable reason is laying on the floor beside the couch. “It’s bad enough we spent last night fighting– now you’re trying to kill me, too?”

“I could say the same thing to you!” Oikawa exclaims, returning your scowl with equal exasperation. He’s rubbing at his chest, a pout tugging at his lips as he groans. “You just stepped on my chest. I could have died.”

“Oh, bite me, drama queen.” You roll your eyes, preparing to stand up again, but then you notice the dark circles on his usually flawless skin, the messiness of his hair, and the fact that he’s still wearing his suit from last night, though the tie is gone and the first few buttons of his shirt are loosened. “...did you actually sleep out here? On the floor? Why didn’t you just sleep on the bed like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t.” He pouts even more, and when you nudge his leg with your foot, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It didn’t feel right without you. It never does. But it felt even worse after last night.”

It melts your heart, you admit. Just a little. But it’s not enough to make you forgive him or to forget your argument, and right now he’s looking at you like he knows that too.

Still, you feel the urge to remind him, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Not just for what I said last night, but for everything I’ve done before that. I never should’ve made you feel like you’re asking for too much, because you’re not, it’s just…” He takes a shaky breath, leans his head back against the couch from where he sits beside you on the floor. “...it’s hard.”

He turns his body slightly so he’s facing you fully. He starts to reach out a hand towards you, almost like he wants to cup your cheek, but he seems to think better of it and lets his hand drop down between you. You almost smile.

His eyes are hesitant as they meet yours, apologetic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.” You fiddle with the straps of your gown where they’ve slid down your arm. You were so exhausted and upset after your fight with him that you didn’t bother to change out of it. “...do you really think I’m needy and demanding?”

“Of course not,” he answers easily. “Do you really think I’m chasing a pointless dream?”

“Definitely not. Your dream isn't pointless, Tooru, it’s amazing, and it’s one I know you can reach.” Your hands brush where they rest between you. He tenses slightly, like he’s not sure you’ll want to touch him after everything, but you slide your fingers through his and watch as he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “I was just angry.”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand, and you let him pull you a bit closer to him, let him press a kiss to the back of your palm. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I definitely don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“I don’t want to blame you or resent you anymore, either.” You inch closer and he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, resting his own against yours in return. A clock ticks on the wall behind you. For the first time in a while, it feels like the two of you are back in sync. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

It’s the million-dollar question, it seems. And it’s the one that, after weeks of heartache, of missing each other and blaming each other at the same time, he finally has the answer to.

When you return to Argentina together, everything changes. Oikawa’s determination goes back to being something you love, now that he’s putting it towards making sure the two of you get to spend time together. He’s at the apartment more; does his best to get to dinner on time, to attend outings with your family and friends, and to meet you halfway at fancy restaurants and magnificent museums and shower you with his undivided attention.

It’s not perfect. He’s still busy, so he can’t be with you all the time, but the effort is there. You see it now more than ever, and it’s all you’ve wanted.

It doesn’t last.

You spend three blissful months together, both of you putting in an equal amount of effort to make it work, to understand each other and support each other, even when it seems impossible. But Oikawa’s schedule becomes more and more unyielding as time goes on, and it’s not long before the cycle of absence starts all over again.

If you had to really pinpoint the beginning of the end, you’d say it’s the night of your presentation. The research project you’ve spent countless hours working on has finally been completed, and tonight you’re going to share it with the public; this thing you’ve struggled with since you entered grad school, this thing you’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears into, both metaphorically and literally.

It goes incredibly well, as your professors and mentors reassured you it would. Your classmates, friends, and parents are all there, and they get to watch and glow with pride as the room erupts into applause once you finish your presentation, knocking the whole thing out of the park just like they knew you would.

The only one who isn’t there is Oikawa, despite you telling him about this ages ago, despite it being written on the calendar hanging on your fridge. You know he texted you with some excuse, but you don’t bother to check which one it was this time.

It should hurt more. It should make you want to shout and scream, to sob and cry, but it doesn’t. The anger you felt before, the fury and heartbreak; it’s not there anymore. It’s gone. You’re not sad or upset or disappointed. You just don’t feel anything at all.

Your friends offer to take you out for the night to celebrate, but you politely decline. Instead, you make your way to the apartment you share with Oikawa, finding it emptier than it’s ever been before.

Months ago, you might’ve cried. Now you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing. It’s just numb.

By the time Oikawa does make it home, you’re already packed. You’re sitting at the table, waiting, still as a statue. He greets you in a flurry of brown hair and frantic movement, an apology you don’t care to listen to fast on his lips. He whirls by you so quickly he doesn’t even notice your bags stacked next to you.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry! I know I’m late, but I’m here now and I promise I won’t be going anywhere for the next few–…”

It takes him a few moments, a couple of double-takes, but finally, he registers the silence around him, the sight of you at the table, surrounded by your things. For once, he has no idea what to say; you see it in the way he looks at you, the way he freezes, wide-eyed and almost afraid.

“My research presentation was today,” you start. “It went great. They’re going to publish it in a journal.”

You watch his face crumple right before your eyes, watch the way his shoulders slump. He looks more defeated now than during any of his previous losses, and so, so incredibly guilty.

“But I thought it wasn’t until–...but it was, wasn’t it? Oh, god. I– I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You stand up. The smile you send him is tired and a little sad, but it’s not bitter, at least not anymore. You’re past that now. You’d like to think you both are.

“I’m so proud of you, Tooru. You work harder than anybody I’ve ever known. I just know you’re going to reach every single one of your dreams.”

You mean it, too. Oikawa has an incredible future ahead of him. You’ve always known that. Once upon a time, you believed you might be a part of it, but not anymore.

“...but I also know that I can’t be with you when you do. I can’t– I won’t be second place for the rest of my life.”

He’s incredibly stubborn, and this time is no different. He tries to change your mind, tries to convince you to stay, but it’s far too little and far too late. Too much has happened between you two, and you just don’t have it in you to be disappointed anymore.

You love him. You do. You always will, and you tell him so, too. But just because you love someone, you remind him softly, doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them. You love him enough to let him go, and you’re hoping he loves you the same.

“But you promised you’d stay,” he whispers, more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him over all of this, over you. “You promised we’d figure it out. And now...now you’re just giving up on us?”

You place your keys on the table. The clock in your– no, his kitchen ticks along. It matches the slow, broken beating of your heart. He’s run out of time, and you’ve run out of chances.

“That’s just it, Tooru. I have nothing left to give you.”

This time when you leave, you don’t look back.

Written by: Dawn

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #our writing #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru angst #dawn writes

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itsmadamehydra · 3 years

Text

My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

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I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

#fanfic #wayne mccullough #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mccullough x y/n #fanfiction #wayne mccullough fanfic #wayne mccullough fanfiction #wayne #wayne x reader

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

Text

I. “Sorry,” the guy says, his voice deep and sun-warmed. Dean steps back, extending his hands as if to say no problem, and then he recognizes the guy--it’s Castiel, the dude from the campus coffeeshop with the weird name that made a bunch of people look up, Dean included.

“You’re Castiel,” Dean says. “I’m Dean.”

“I’ve never been introduced to myself before,” Castiel replies, but he’s grinning, and he sticks out his hand for Dean to shake. Dean helps Castiel pick up the papers he dropped when Dean ran into him, and they walk to their next class together, because it turns out Religion 101 and Intro to Philosophy are in the same building. Castiel tosses Dean a peace sign as he turns towards his classroom, and Dean waves back.

II. A week later, Dean's outside his history professor’s office to get feedback on a paper when Castiel walks up, his head buried in a book. He looks up when Dean coughs, and then a smile grows on his face.

“How are you, Dean?” Castiel asks, as if there hasn’t been a gap in their conversation at all.

“I’ve been better. Dr. Turner is about to ream me over this essay. I may have...left it until the last minute.” Dean paused. “How are you?”

“Trying to finish reading this book before my next class. I may have...also left it until the last minute.” Castiel’s smile grows broader.

Just then, Dr. Turner opens his office door, and Dean smiles at Castiel ruefully.

“Hey, Dean,” Castiel says, just as Dean follows Dr. Turner into the office and is about to close the door, “I never got a last name.”

“Winchester. You?”

“Novak.”

III. “Who the hell would drive this monstrosity?” Benny, Dean’s coworker at the auto shop he works at after class, asks. They’re both staring at a massive gold Lincoln Continental from the seventies that has a popped tire and is, according to their boss, making “funny noises.”

“That would be me,” a familiar voice says, and Dean turns to see the shock of dark hair and vibrant blue gaze that indicates Castiel Novak.

“Oh, hey, Cas--Castiel,” Dean says.

“Cas is fine. But yes, I drive this...’monstrosity.’” Cas uses finger quotes and everything.

“You and Dean should get along, then,” Benny quips, “He acts like his car was God’s gift to mankind.”

“Hey!” Dean protests. “Baby demands respect.”

Cas quirks an eyebrow. “You call your car Baby?”

“So what?” Dean frowns at Cas, although it’s difficult, what with the twinkle he can see in the other guy’s eye.

“So can you fix my car?”

“We can,” Benny says. “For sure.”

After Cas leaves, Benny elbows Dean and winks at him. Dean decides to pretend not to know Benny for the rest of their shift.

IV. They see each other all the time after that, almost like the universe is pushing them together. When Cas sees Dean’s car, his dad’s old 1967 Chevy Impala, he tells Dean it’s a “ridiculous” car, and Dean only doesn’t write him off completely because he’s starting to like Cas.

They run into each other in the student union or the library and do homework. If they’re both at the coffeeshop where Dean first heard Cas’ name, they sit together. Cas shows Dean pictures of his cats and Dean tells Cas stories about what his little brother, Sam, who’s still in high school, has been up to. He learns that Cas’ whole family lives over five hundred miles away, that Cas chose this university to get away from them. Cas learns in turn that Dean is only thirty minutes from his hometown on purpose, in case his mom or brother need him.

Cas is a member of their university’s beekeeping club and he’s double majoring in philosophy and English. Dean doesn’t know what he wants to major in yet, maybe social work, so he’s getting all his pre-reqs out of the way. Cas says that it’s okay to not know what he wants to do, and Dean believes him.

This goes on for a couple of months, and at some point hardly a day goes by where they don’t see each other, and it’s kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to Dean.

V. Dean doesn’t often go to parties, but his friend Charlie who he met in DnD club found out about some frat having one this weekend and apparently they had to go, which is how he’s found himself standing awkwardly in the hallway of a random fraternity, nursing a potentially hazardous red Solo cup of jungle juice.

“Well hey there, stranger.”

Dean turns to see Cas holding a beer. “Hey,” Dean replies, feeling his face warm. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Cas, but Cas is his friend, and besides, Cas is cool. Interesting. He writes poetry and wears vintage button-down shirts and paints his own Converse. Dean feels like he himself is what would happen if you made the midwest a person: flannel, leather, ripped jeans, work boots, none of it to be aesthetic. This is just what he looks like.

He runs a hand through his hair nervously, takes a sip of his drink.

“Come here often?” Cas asks after a moment. The hallway is dark, the music audible even though they aren’t in the main room.

“Ha.” Dean swirls his jungle juice. “Charlie--I’ve told you about her, I think--she dragged me here. Pretty sure she’s making out with her girlfriend on a couch as we speak.”

“She threw you to the wolves?”

“A little.” Dean smiles ruefully. “I’m usually reading mystery novels on the weekends and she told me I was boring.” “That’s funny.” Cas smiles with just his eyes. “I would say you’re anything but boring.”

Dean shrugs. He’s glad for the dim lighting because he just knows his face is getting redder the longer this conversation goes on. He fidgets with the cuff of his flannel with the hand not holding his drink and stares off into space.

“Hey Dean?” Cas says suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Do you like me?” Cas tilts his head slightly, like he always does.

“What?” Dean sets his cup on the windowsill next to him. “Do I--what?”

“Just wondering. It’s alright if you don’t.”

Dean furrows his brow. “Do you...like me?” God, this feels like he’s in eighth grade again, crushing on the guy that would always let him borrow a pen in science class.

Cas considers for a moment. “Definitely.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

Cas somehow tilts his head further. “Well?”

“Uh, yes. I, uh--” Dean fumbles, but he can’t take his eyes off Cas, who knocks back the rest of his beer and sets the bottle on the floor before stepping into Dean’s personal space.

“Can I kiss you?” Cas is smiling.

“Please.”

At first, it’s gentle--just a tentative press of lips, Dean can feel the upward curve of Cas’ lips. Then it turns into something a little heavier as Dean’s brain gets back online and he remembers that he has hands, and that’s Cas’ tongue, tentatively exploring, and then not-so-tentatively exploring, and Dean’s pretty sure he might explode.

Eventually they part--Cas has backed Dean against the nearest wall, and Dean has his hands on Cas’ hips, pulling them together, and then Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s.

“Hey Dean?”

“Mmm-hmm?” “Do you think I could get your phone number?”

#ahh please no one hate that I kinda made dean shy here but shy dorky college au dean is my 1 weakness #destiel #mutual tags pls tell me if I'm annoying anhhhh bye #cillabee #usersheya #userstarry #casthyelle #offbeatwrites

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 11

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: nothing (i think?) Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

a/n: hi all please be patient I am having some writers block/lack of motivation lately for writing so this series may be a bit on a pause (hopefully not) but I am working to get out more drabbles to maybe just get some inspo or something!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt just too good to be true. You were sure it was a dream, a nice, new dream Fate had blessed you with, but when Bucky shifted beside you and you felt every sensation, you knew you were truly awake.

It also helped tremendously that you had a pleasant dream about him. It feels like centuries since you were shaken awake by the actions of The Winter Soldier. You couldn’t even consider any of it the actions of him next to you, feeling like the person in your dreams was and wasn’t the man in this bed. Everything felt like it intertwined dangerously, vines running through your mind. But, truthfully, you didn’t wanna think too much about it. You were finally getting your chance at the real soulmate experience, dates and dreams and all, and that was too priceless to spend time dwelling over much else.

Bucky awoke slowly, his normally rough eyes met yours in the softest manner. You two were tangled comfortably, still in most of last night's clothing, minus your panties and Bucky’s sweater which he must’ve ditched in the middle of the night. But none of that bothered you for a second. You were just too glad to be in this bed with your soulmate, cocooned lovingly in the sheets.

Bucky’s hoarse morning voice broke the silence, “Good morning.”

You smirked. “Good morning.” You shifted on your side and Bucky removed his arm from your waist, letting you get comfortable. The other arm around your shoulder stayed put. Quite surprisingly, it was his metal one. You could see Bucky’s torso completely now, the light from the sun hitting him in just the right way. Your eyes traveled from his arm to his shoulder, looking curiously. He was a fascinating phenomenon that you couldn’t believe was yours.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t shiver away at the interest you were taking again in his arm and instead, indulged in your curiosity. “What’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

Your eyes snapped back to Bucky’s face. Your cheeks heated up from the question, feeling like you were caught doing something wrong. But Bucky didn’t look at all upset. Slowly, your eyes drifted back down and your hand came up to caress the base of his neck, just barely skimming his shoulder. He shuddered under the feeling.

“Does it… Does it hurt or anything?” You asked, suddenly feeling very stupid the second the words left your mouth. You bit your lip, trying to find the words to peddle back, but Bucky didn’t seem very bothered by it.

“No,” he shook his head. “I guess I don’t think much about it now. It’s just part of me. Obviously.”

You nodded, still letting your hand trace invisible patterns on his skin. “And you use it to fight bad guys?”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re still on that, huh?” You smirked and shrugged, wordlessly asking him to continue. “I… I help where I can. Don’t think it’s much to get excited about it but I like to think I have a hand in making the world better. It’s the least I could do since…” His words trailed off, leaving a kind of heaviness in the conversation. Bucky’s eyes lost their softness. They were beginning to water up but before any tear could escape, he spoke again. “You know, I actually am glad you brought this up. I have a mission soon.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

He nodded and sat up in the bed, untangling you two. You followed his motions, gripping the blanket to you as you now sat side-by-side.

“Should just be for a day or so. Mainly just gathering intel, nothing really crazy from the looks of it, but I still wanted to let you know.”

“W-When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Your jaw went slack. “You have a mission to leave for tomorrow and I’m just now hearing about it?”

Despite your rising anger, you let Bucky take your hand in his. He rubbed soft circles on your skin. “Doll, I promise, I didn’t know about it until yesterday morning.”

“Were you going to tell me?” You were a bit surprised by how softly your words came out, just barely making it above a whisper. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears, worry and uncertainty course through you. You didn’t know what these missions could really entail. Could they really just be intel gathering? What if stuff goes wrong? Stuff goes wrong all the time, right? Your head was swimming and all you really knew was that you were losing your soulmate for a bit. Sure, you had gone your entire life without him (and he went without you much longer) but now you two were connected. It was practically set in stone. The situation had changed drastically and now he was leaving to do God knows what…

Bucky let out a sigh, the noise forcing you out of your worried thoughts. He spoke gently as if sensing the uneasiness within you, “Yes, I planned to, doll, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. When you asked about my job again, I just jumped on the opportunity, okay? I swear, I wasn’t going to just disappear.”

You wrapped your arm around his, leaning closer to rest your head in the crook of his neck. He shifted to welcome the touch.

“You can’t disappear,” you whispered. “After what happened that night on the phone…” It flashed back. The dial tone in your ear, the thought of Bucky gone in the night. You didn’t want to remember those feelings, really. “You gotta promise me you’re going to be safe.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle and you possibly would’ve found it comical, it was actually quite funny asking an ex-assassin to be safe, but thanks to the bond, there wasn’t anything funny about anything. You couldn’t imagine even having to put a bandaid on him.

“I’ll be safe, doll,” he said. “Try not to worry.”

You scoffed. “Impossible.”

A moment passed before Bucky reached to cup the side of your face. Instinctively, you brought your face up to meet his. His expression as he stared back with a true whirlwind of emotions. Sadness, appreciation, love… But he didn’t express anything outwardly, and instead just placed his lips on yours. His body pressed into you as the kiss deepened, slowly pushing you back to the bed. You two fell back once again into the entanglement of one another.

***

“You’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be fine.”

You tried giving an understanding nod but still, all you felt was worry as you and Bucky stood outside your apartment building saying your goodbyes. It was early and he had made sure to stop by before you had to leave for work. You thought you two had said your goodbyes in more ways than one yesterday but he wasn’t leaving so easily and you were secretly glad.

“I’m just making sure,” you sighed and reached to grab his hand. He accepted, intertwining your fingers.

“I know,” he nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

You raised your brows. “Me?” You let out a small laugh. “I’m not the one going on a mission to do who knows what in God knows where.”

Bucky shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. “No, but I still have to make sure you’re safe here.”

“Bucky, I’ve spent a lot of time alone. I’m going to be just fine.”

Bucky’s expression morphed into something unsettling. He looked quite distressed at your comment, which you hadn’t truly expected, but hearing it out loud, you wanted to cringe at the statement. It was probably the most uncomfortable reminder but Bucky didn’t mention anything about it.

“I’m just making sure.” He repeated your words as a teasing remark, making you let out a small sigh of relief.

In a quick last-minute move, you pulled him closer to place a loving kiss on his lips. He smiled into it as his other hand came up to caress your cheek. Warmth raced through you as he broke the kiss.

“Have a good day at work, doll.”

“Have a good mission, Buck.”

***

You thanked your lucky stars that work today was ridiculously slow. It was almost the weekend but the usual rush of morning folks had dwindled pretty fast. Truly, though, this was a best-case scenario in your eyes because in between the fleeting customers and out of the watchful gaze of your boss, you took time to send Bucky some texts. While, yes, you knew he hated texting (who could blame him with the T9 keyboard he was working with) but you still thought they would be nice for him to read.

I’m sure you’re high off in the sky getting briefed on your task but I wanted to wish you luck. You hit send with a goofy grin feeling a bit silly and a bit… concerned. Your worry for Bucky hadn’t stopped and you knew most likely it was consequences of being separated from your soulmate but you wished the gnawing at your soul would quit it. Still, though, a part of you felt giddy being able to send him cute little things while he was gone.

Your coworker took notice of your behavior quite quickly. As she came around the counter restocking the syrups, she asked, “What’s got you all lovestruck?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your smile. “Bucky’s gone for a bit and I was just sending him a little love note.”

Your coworker chuckled. “A love note. Oh, how far you two have come.” With that sentiment, she went back to her restocking, leaving you to stare at your phone. You nodded to yourself realizing, yeah, you and Bucky had come far. You didn’t know if all relationships hit the gas pedal but there had always been an urgency with you even before ever looking at Bucky. You had wanted this for a while, always unsure if you would get it thanks to what the nightmares showed, but now it was real. It was as Bucky said, if it felt right to you two, then it must be.

Thinking of you. You sent off another little message before sliding your phone back into your pocket. You waited the rest of your shift but never received anything back, not that you really expected it, though. You figured if he had time to call, he was going to wait for that opportunity.

Eventually, the clock hit quitting time and you exited the coffee shop, waving a brief goodbye to your coworker. Standing on the sidewalk, you half expected to maybe see Bucky eager to walk you home or take you to dinner but the street was gravely empty. You shook off the unusual thought and began your journey home.

It was a fairly quiet night and you were thankful for that. It gave you a chance to just be with yourself for a second after a whirlwind of days and nights with Bucky by your side. Maybe this distance would be good, you thought. The distance creates a need and your reunion would be unlike anything you had ever felt before. You blushed at the thought.

You made your way into your apartment building and up the stairs. Unlocking your door, you threw down your items and began getting ready for bed. The softness of it was just begging for you. While you would’ve loved to be back in Bucky’s, you were dying for a bit of sleep to maybe ease your hyperactive thoughts of your soulmate and his mission.

After taking off your make-up and getting on your pajamas, you crawled under the covers. Sleep hit you almost immediately, a new occurrence you were getting used to. You never really recalled a time when you were welcoming sleep with open arms.

But maybe you were counting your blessings too soon. Tonight ended up not being how it had been for the past few days. The nightmares came back in a sudden rush, way too fast for you to even think about what the hell was going on. You felt so lost, being pushed so many steps back in your progress, as scenes of fighting and guns blazing flashed in and out without any warning. The emotions came back as well. Need and anger were swelling in your heart as you fought and fought within the nightmares. Everything began feeling…so real. The nightmares felt strong as your body felt it had a mind of its own, tossing around your bed in panic as your brain filled with the images and… yells?

You were shaking now. You didn’t remember hearing sounds in your nightmares before but everything can be suppressed if you’re traumatized enough, you figured. But there was just something within you that didn’t feel right. Granted, nothing was right about the nightmares but this was different… these sounds felt real and sudden… Your brain was screaming. What the...

Something cold hit your back. At first, you had thought your blanket fell off but when you went to grab it, you found your hands were bound together. Real panic, nothing of the dream kind, raced through you. Your eyes bolted open.

You didn't find your blanket because it wasn’t there. You weren’t in your bed. Hell, you weren’t even in your apartment. You were alone, shoved into a dark cell, your back pressed against a cold, metal wall. The panic was settling in but you couldn’t find the strength to react besides staring around frantically in the dark. You couldn’t make out anything, barely able to even see your own body. It was deadly silent.

You began praying to whatever was out there that this was just a dream, that you just really couldn't wake up, you had only thought you woke up. But that just wasn’t the case and a sad part of you really knew it. Nightmares suddenly weren’t just reserved for bedtime.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #avengers #soulmate au #fluff #angst

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years

Text

What You Can’t See

Summary: Bucky doesn’t understand how you could think were were just a one night stand.

Warnings: Non-con/Dubcon, dark yandere Bucky, stalking.

Word Count: 3.3k

AN: So a few months ago the lovely and incredibly talented @darkficsyouneveraskedfor gave me the title prompt ‘What You Can’t See’ and I’ve only just gotten around to writing it. This was also a request from my lovely purple and black love heart nonny who has disappeared recently, but I hope you enjoy. The prompt will be in bold.

My Masterlist

Your thighs ache in the best possible way as you gingerly slip from the bed, careful not to disturb the man still between the sheets. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but he had been insatiable last night and you had been more than willing to let him use you until you lost consciousness. But now with the sun streaming in through the blinds, your mind was of a different volition. Now it was time to go.

You spared him one last glance as you crept towards his bedroom door and the desire to take a photo almost overpowered you. He looked so serene as he slept, his long brown hair tousled over the pillow and his body lacking any trace of the ruminating thoughts you knew he had carried around all night. A small part of you wanted to climb back into bed with him but you knew that’s not what this was, and it would be better for everyone if you saved yourself from the morning-after embarrassment. So you made your way out of his small apartment and out onto the bustling streets of Brooklyn, vowing to yourself that you wouldn’t become one of those girls obsessed with some guy they slept with once.

Bucky awoke slowly. It had been by far the best night’s sleep he had had in over seventy years. A smile was on his face as he reached consciousness and remembered the feel of your body underneath his. It had been better than he had ever expected even if it hadn’t happened quite the way he had been planning. Bumping into you at the bar Sam had dragged him to had been a complete coincidence but he wasn’t going to complain. He felt a stir between his thighs as he remembered the way you had felt wrapped around his cock as he had you in the bathroom of the dingy bar and then again and again back at his place.

His hands trailed along the bed as he searched for your body, desperate to hear your moans of pleasure once more before he had to head into the tower. Mentally he was cursing Maria for calling a mission briefing on the weekend but he knew if he didn’t go they would expect the worst. Bucky’s smile soon fell off his face as his hands continued to search, only to find cold sheets. His eyes flew open and to his dismay, you had gone.

Immediately he threw back the sheets and got out of bed, not even bothering to pull on some clothes as he searched his apartment. He was desperately wishing that you had just gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom, or better yet he would find you in the kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt as you whipped up some breakfast. He stupidly hoped that you would be making those pancakes he had seen you make a week ago when a friend had come over. He knew that if given the opportunity he would be very creative with the whipped cream you had coated your pancakes with.

Even though a small part of him had known as soon as he woke up that you were gone, his heart still ached as he entered the empty kitchen. Why had you left? He knew it definitely wasn't because you hadn’t had a good time last night. He had lost count of how many times you had cum before he dared focus on himself. So why the fuck had you left?

And what was he meant to do with his raging hard on now? Going back to using his hand after last night seemed like the worst trade off in the world.

He let out a sigh of annoyance before heading to the shower, waiting the briefing to be over already. The scalding hot water dripped down his body as he fisted his cock, dreaming up images of what he’d do when he rocked up at your apartment that night.

The sky was darkening, the golden streaks of sunset slowly disappearing and turning into a twinkling twilight when Bucky finally made it to your apartment. The briefing had lasted hours and then he hadn’t been able to come up with a good enough excuse to get out of training with Sam afterwards. Even though over the months the Birdman had started to grow on him, his constant teasing throughout the day about where Bucky had disappeared off to the night before was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want Sam making such lewd assumptions about you. Not that they weren’t entirely correct.

He was glad that he had briefly stolen your keys to make his own copy a month ago. It made getting into your building much easier. The large pastry filled box was slightly awkward to carry as he climbed the numerous flights of stairs towards you since the elevator was out of order, just like it had been for the last few months. He cursed your landlord for not giving a shit about the people living in his building but he reconciled it with the fact that soon he would take you far away from here. Soon everything would be different.

His fist rapped on your door and he tried to wait as patiently as he could for you to open it. He had no qualms about using his own set of keys to get into your apartment but he figured he should at least try and do this normally.

When the door finally cracked open Bucky could hear your gasp as you recognised him beyond the chain. ‘B-Bucky? What… What are you doing here?’ You seemed lost and confused and Bucky wanted to take those feelings away immediately. He knew that he would be able to help you.

‘Well I had planned on taking you out to breakfast this morning but you kind of ran out on me before I got this chance, so I figured I would bring breakfast to you.’ He held up the mint green cardboard box from BreadClub so you could see the pastries inside.

If you seemed shocked before, now you were doubly so. ‘But… how did you know where I live?’

Bucky forced himself to laugh when in reality all he wanted to do was break down your door so he could hold you. ‘Doll, I’m an Avenger. It’s not that hard to do a background check.’

‘Oh… right yeah I forgot about that. But still… what are you doing here?’

‘I just told you. I wanted to bring you some breakfast.’ His patience was starting to wean as you continued to keep the door between you.

‘Yeah, I got that. But what are you doing here? Don't you have somewhere else to be? Some Earth-ending event to stop?’ Your brows were furrowed as you spoke and Bucky could hear the fear starting to lace your words.

‘Nope. I’m exactly where I need to be.’

‘But why? I mean… we just had sex. We both got super drunk and hooked up. I don’t understand why you’re here. It was just a one-night stand.’

At this Bucky snapped and banged his fist against the door, forcing it open. The chain that had been in place snapped as easily as twigs underfoot. ‘Just a one-night stand? Oh Dollface you have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you seriously think that I would take just anybody back to my place for a quick fuck? I knew the moment I first laid eyes on you in that coffee shop you were meant to be mine. You’re more than just a one-night stand to me; you’re mine.’

Bucky felt as though he could almost hear the memory echoing around in your head and recognition flashed across your eyes. It hurt slightly that you hadn’t thought of that moment nearly as much as he had, but Bucky didn’t mind. From that moment on, his life had been changed. It was a change as irrecoverable as falling from that snow covered train all those years ago.

He snapped the door shut behind him as he stalked inside your apartment, inwardly hurting as you retreated back a few paces. But that would change. You would come to love him just as he had you. ‘I brought us some pastries from the bakery around the corner, BreadClub. I know it’s your favourite. I figured they would keep our energy up tonight.’

‘Our energy? Bucky, I don’t know what you’re doing here but I would like you to leave. You’re starting to scare me.’

Bucky let out a humourless laugh, amazed at how you still didn’t seem to understand. ‘Dollface, I’m not going anywhere, not now, not ever. So why don’t you be a good little girl and lead me to your bedroom. After having you last night, I just can’t seem to get enough.’

When you had made no effort to move, too stunned by his presence, a flash of annoyance crept over Bucky’s face. He had been waiting for this all day, hell, he’d been waiting for this for months. He wasn’t about to let you ruin his plans. He would show you just how good together you were; how you were made for him.

‘C’mon Dollface. Just take me to your bedroom and then we can both enjoy ourselves. I know you had a good time last night and that was while you were drunk. It’ll be so much better when you're drunk off of me.’ Heat flushed your cheeks as his words reminded you of the dingy bathroom stall where he had first taken you and then of his kitchen counter where he had eaten you out for hours before finally taking you back to his bedroom. You tried to ignore the tell tale tingy between your thighs as you relived the memories. That was not happening again. This man was clearly delusional.

You watched as he inhaled deeply through his nose, a smirk gracing his sinful pink lips.’Oh Sweetheart, you want it, you want it bad.’ You blanched at the idea of him being able to smell you and quickly tried to deny it.

‘No I don’t Bucky. What I want is for you to leave. I’ll… I’ll call the cops.’ You tried to make yourself seem braver than you felt but any bravado you had mustered up quickly vanished when Bucky let out a bark of laughter.

‘You’ll call the cops and what? Tell them an Avenger is fucking your brains out? They wouldn’t believe you, and even if they did, by the time they sent a patrol car around I’ll have you begging for more. So why don’t you quit wasting everyone’s time and just be a good girl.’

You hadn’t noticed the tears starting to pool in your eyes as he spoke but you blamed them for blocking your vision as you made a mad dash around him. You barely got two feet to the door before his strong arms wrapped around your waist and he hoisted you up onto his broad shoulder.

If he felt any of the kicks or punches you tried to land on him, he didn’t show it as he walked purposely through your tiny apartment towards your bedroom. No matter how loud you screamed, you doubted any of your neighbours would come and check on you, you didn’t exactly live in the best part of the city.

You felt the air rush beneath your body as he threw you down onto the mattress. You bounced for a moment before trying to scramble away from him, only to be trapped by his legs coming to straddle your body beneath his.

‘C’mon Dollface. You know I really didn’t want it to be like this but if you’re not going to be reasonable, I’m just going to have to show you I mean business.’ You didn’t bother responding to him. Instead you just sucked a deep breath in and screamed as loudly as you could, desperate to get anyone’s attention.

Your scream didn’t get far however as his hand quickly clamped down on your throat, the cool metal pressing against your jugular, cutting off your air. ‘I am only going to say this once, so listen up. You. Are. Mine. And I am not going to leave until you realise that, okay Sweetheart?’

Panic seeped through your veins as he pulled out a long flick knife from his bomber jacket. He wasted no time in pressing the cool metal to the skin of your navel and you barely dared to breath and he slid it up and under your top before yanking it up fiercely, tearing through the thin material.

‘Oh, now that’s what I’m talking about. That right there. That’s why I can’t leave you alone, you’re too fuckin’ gorgeous.’ You recalled him saying similar things the night before, peppering your senses with little compliments continuously as he was inside you. It had made you feel incredibly sexy last night, but now it had an entirely different effect. ‘Well actually…’ his hand reached up to cup your jaw gently. ‘It’s only part of the reason.’

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you registered his words and you cursed his silver tongue. How could he be saying such sweet things to you while this was happening? How dare he try and be the prince charming you had longed for in all your previous relationships when in reality he was the devil in disguise.

His knife made quick work of your sleep shorts and your panties too. You felt the warmth of his hand against your most intimate parts as he groaned. ‘I knew you wanted me Doll. You’re so fucken wet for me. Just for me. Such a good girl, responding to me like this.’ You tried to swallow the bile in your throat caused by his words and your body’s betrayal. ‘I told you we belong together.’

His fingers played with your slick, swiping it along your folds and up to your clit where he swirled his fingers. You bucked your hips, whether to get away from his hand or closer to it you weren’t sure. The pleasure he was giving you was just undeniable and no matter how much you hated him in this moment, you could feel the familiar tension building slowly in your abdomen.

‘You’re close aren’t you Doll? See how good I can make you feel. It could be like this all the time. Just let go and give in, give in to me Baby.’ You tried to shake your head, tried with your last remaining strength to throw him off but you couldn’t. You couldn't do anything but exactly what he said which was give in.

You gasped for breath as you came, your walls fluttering around nothing as he continued to toy with your clit, unrelenting even as pleasure flowed through your veins. ‘That’s it. That’s a good girl. You’re so good to me Dollface.’ His praise only egged your pleasure on further, a dopey smile taking over your features before you could stop it.

As blissed out as you were, you somehow hadn’t noticed him undressing with hasty and jerky movements until he was lying back on top of you. ‘All day I’ve been hard just thinking about having you again and now I’m here, I’m basically ready to burst. How embarrassing is that? But don’t worry Dollface, as I proved last night, I’m not just a one and done.’ He smirked down at you as he guided himself to your entrance, finding a very warm and wet welcome.

‘Oh… Fuck Doll.’ He moaned into your ear, holding himself still once he was fully inside you. ‘You’re so fuckin’ tight, just milking my cock.’ You tried to block out the sinful words spoken as smooth as velvet but you couldn’t hide your body’s reaction. Not from him and not while he was inside you, filling you to the brim.

Your nails dug into his back as he started moving, slowly pulling out inch by inch before sliding back in again. His pelvis grazed your clit which each move of his hips and you shuddered in his grasp. While the memories of last night were hazy from the copious amount of alcohol you had drunk, you remembered enjoying it and now with him rutting into you, the same feeling of ecstasy started to build.

As he continued moving, his pace slowly building, the desire to push him off grew less and less. You knew your efforts would be futile as he was far too strong and with the way he was grinding into you, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop.

‘That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.’ His breath brushed against the shell of your ear and you couldn’t hold back the responding moan. ‘You like that huh? Me whispering dirty little things in your ear? It’s just like those audios you use to get yourself off isn’t it?’

You had no idea how he knew about those but he was right. His voice was so much more powerful and rich than those unknown ones stored on your phone. ‘You’re never gonna need those other men ever again. You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine.’ His voice was starting to grow breathless, coming out in sharp bursts. It mingled with the obscene sounds coming from your cunt as he thrusted into you again and again, his balls slapping against your ass as he moved.

‘I’m so fuckin’ close Doll, need you to cum first though…’ His voice was truly breathless now as he pushed up onto his haunches and wrapped your legs around his waist, never once missing a beat.

You gasped in shock as you felt his metal hand dip down, in between your legs. His deft fingers played with your arousal, getting coated in it before coming up to your clit and circling it quickly. You fisted the sheets as your toes curled. Your release was so close, you just needed a little bit more.

‘Play with your tits baby, play with them for me.’ You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but your body was no longer obeying your brain as your hands came up to cup your chest. ‘Yeah baby, just like that. Such a good girl.’

It was his voice that did it, the way it flooded your senses and finally released the knot building in your gut. You couldn’t help the scream that came from your mouth as your walls pulsated around him, trying to milk him dry. ‘Fuck Doll. Fuck, fuck.’ His thrusts grew erratic and you knew he was on the edge. ‘I know your pussy is just begging for my cream but I can’t… God, I can’t fucking wait to fill you up though.’ He groaned out before suddenly pulling free from you.

His flesh hand fisted his cock with strong and rapid strokes. Once, twice, three times, before his cum spurted out, landing in stips across your tits. The sound that came from his mouth as he worked himself through his orgasm was absolutely sinful and had you rubbing your thighs together subconsciously. The movement was not missed by him as a devious smirk came over his lips as he watched.

‘Just can’t wait for more can you?’ You hastily shook your head, trying to find your voice as he collapsed beside you, his arms wrapping around your body like a vice. You felt him start to harden once more against your thigh.

‘Don’t worry Doll, there’ll be plenty more where that came from now that you’re finally mine.’

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My Masterlist

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky #bucky x you #marvel #mcu

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