#only two more shifts and then I'm free from this job forEVER!!!

[zzoguri]

[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ est. 10-15k

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlists

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs

#the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin angst #ji changmin fluff #the boyz imagines #ji changmin imagines #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin scenarios

[halogalopaghost]

I just found out that a tilt table test isn't like, getting tilted back and forth for a while, you lay there for thirty minutes and then they tilt you upright REAL QUICK, im gonna fail that test so hard lmao

#at first I'm like hmmmm idk if I meet the criteria for orthostatic intolerance idkkk #and tested my HR a few times from laying/standing with a few minutes in between #but if it's THIRTY MINS at rest before they flip me? #I'm fucked lmao #the biggest increase from sitting to standing that I've seen in the last two days #was 24bpm #that's like...not the worst. it's outside the normal range but it's not BAD #it's not pre syncope levels of bad #but I've also deliberately increased my salt intake ever since the PT said POTS to me on Tuesday so #hmmmmm #sometimes I feel like my fucking around and finding out isn't very science based and k can't possibly accurately diagnose myself and then #this stuff happens... #I'm so fucking tired bro #I got so confused and frustrated about a really stupid and simple thing today that I just started crying #I've been crying a LOT in the last two weeks #BUT #only two more shifts and then I'm free from this job forEVER!!! #and I can focus on my health or lack thereof #I don't expect cures or even really effective treatments at this point I just want to know WHY #like WHAT is happening with my body bro #it's never worked particularly well or normal but the last time I felt physically healthy was early 2022 #it's been almost TWO years since I felt healthy and I'm 25 #and I feel like it's getting progressively worse. not by huge increments but enough #maybe that's just symptoms stacking? idk #maybe it's just extended fatigue without really feeling rested #I have no clue which is why I would loooove to know bro #sigh #little Victorian boy wasting disease

[luveline]

Jade, my beloved!! <3

What about reader going over to Eddie's trailer and Roan starts clinging to reader, and Eddie tries to apologize but reader absolutely does not mind at all and happily carries Roan around? (The way you write kiddos is so sweet😭)

omg YES thank you . girl dad Eddie forever <3 | fem!reader

You and Eddie (and Roan, his mirror image daughter) have been on one date.

It's not easy getting to know someone when they bring their baby but you'd figured it was the only reasonable option. He's gonna have her for the rest of his life and you wouldn't have it any other way besides, so you'd told him to bring her and you'd stuffed her full of chocolate cake. You'd wanted her to like you.

You might've done too good a job.

Eddie called you after the date — the next morning, to your delighted surprise — and told you how much fun he had. How he'd love to see you again. You'd enough butterflies to lose your mind and told him absolutely, yes, but what day's good for you?

So your next date is a week away. You're eager to see him again. You're excited to see his daughter, too, because she'd been lovely and sweet, quiet though she'd certainly known how to throw a tantrum.

Eddie calls you two days after the first phone call and says, "Listen, do you want to come over for dinner?"

"Now?"

"If you're not busy."

So here you are. Standing outside of his trailer home in Forest Hills Trailer Park with a teddy bear in one hand and a bottle of sparkling cider in the other, nervously shifting from foot to foot and wondering if maybe you should've brought wine. Or beer. But no, right? He has a baby. Kind of.

You knock and wait. There's scrambling feet, obviously smaller footsteps pittering over the floor and then a bang against the door. You flinch and wait.

"Hello?" you call.

"Oh, shit," someone says from further away. "I'm coming!"

"Shit," a little voice echoes.

"No!" Eddie calls, horrified.

Quick footsteps. The deadbolt slides free and the door opens.

Eddie's shepherded Roan behind him just enough to let you in. "You can't say that, babe. It's a bad word," he tells her, face hidden behind a sheet of messy curls.

Roan doesn't take any notice of him. She's stopped dead behind him in an actual princess dress. Tiny clip on earrings hang from her small earlobes and her dark curls are pulled up into dainty pig tails. Her lips part and expose the pink of tongue and all her pearly baby teeth, and then she screams.

"Yes!" she says, and throws herself at you.

Her arms wrap around your legs and her face rubs into your thighs. When you don't hug back she looks up at you with wide brown eyes, all her dad's, and blinks.

"Baby, you can't-" Eddie sighs and scrubs a hand across his jaw. "I'm sorry," he apologises.

You hold out the teddy bear and the cider and he takes both on instinct. Hands free, you lean down to give Roan a tentative hug.

"Hi, princess. I'm happy to see you too, and in your lovely dress! You look so pretty," you baby-talk, bubbly and light and very, very enamoured by the warmth of her small body clutching your thighs.

"She- I said you were coming and she told me she had to wear the princess dress," Eddie explains.

You turn your attention from your cuddle and find him as handsome as you'd left him last Thursday. He's dressed not nearly as fancy as he had been, though this feels more him. A band t-shirt, a pair of black jeans. His tattoos play stark over the length of his arms.

This is more like it.

"Yeah? Good, she should wear it. She's pretty as any princess I've seen."

Eddie tries to separate your clinger so he can shut the door but Roan adamantly refuses it.

"Up," she says, hands grabbing.

"Roan, Y/N doesn't want to-"

"Up please!"

You don't have a clue how to pick up a toddler so you squat down. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and squeals with happiness as you stand. The tulle of her skirt is scratchy under your palms.

"You really don't have to," Eddie says. He sounds worried.

You meet his eyes and try to adjust your hold until she's comfortable as you say, "Hey, it's okay. If it's okay with you?"

He's still for a moment.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay," he says softly.

You smile until he smiles back.

Roan pulls away from your neck to touch your neck. You shiver at her cold hands and rub up the length of her back. "Are you cold?" you fret.

"She just had an ice pop."

You raise your eyebrows at him. Dipping your head toward your shoulder, you fix your knowing gaze on Roan. "Is that so? What flavour do you like? No, let me guess..." You take in the purple at the corner of her mouth and beam. "Grape yeah? I like grape too. You have good taste."

"Can I get you a drink?" Eddie asks, wielding the apple cider.

Talking to Roan is a piece of cake. Talking to her dad is nowhere near as easy. You feel like you're in school again as he watches you, your lips curving into a funny excuse for a smile.

"Please."

He disappears to the kitchenette. You press Roan's chest to yours and search their living room for details, curious and hungry to know more about them. They've got a thousand things, not a lick of space between toys, so many toys, pinks and purples like a wave carpeting the floor.

There's a small square table painted pink outfitted by saucers and teacups. There are three chairs, two pink and plastic and one a wooden drum stool, and at each sits a teddy bear.

"Having a party?" you ask.

Roan nods at you. "A tea party."

"A tea party!" you echo, impressed by her neat pronunciation. She's precious when she isn't on her knees screaming.

"For Teddy," she says.

"Yeah? Which one's Teddy?"

She turns to the table and points at the pink bear with a missing ear.

"Why don't you finish your tea party, Roan?" Eddie asks, then says to you, quieter, "You can put her down if you want to."

You take that as a You should put her down now and start to bend. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and clings, knees digging into your sides.

"No," she moans miserably.

"Baby," Eddie starts.

"No," she says again, meaner. You swoop her back up toward your chest, worried she'll start crying.

You feel awkward because it's obvious Eddie is embarrassed by her showing off. She starts to whine loudly and he gets worse, sending you an apologetic look as he approaches.

You can hear the apple cider sparkling away in the glasses in his hands, he talks to her that gently. "Roan, Y/N can't hold you all night, baby. She wants a drink. You don't like carrying Teddy all day, do you?"

Roan cries.

"It's really okay. I don't mind, I promise," you say.

The 'I promise,' comes out ridiculous. Too warm. Too genuine.

Eddie beams at you, almost haphazard. "Okay, awesome, because she's about to go nuclear and I don't think we'll survive it."

"Does she scream?"

"Full nine yards, slaps her hands on the floor, rolls around."

You gasp. "No! No way, do you really show off like that?" you ask her sympathetically. "I can't believe you'd ever do something like that, you're such a sweetheart. Is your daddy telling me lies?" You stroke down her cheek until she laughs, tickled. "He's lying, isn't he?"

"If you stick around long enough you'll see."

You don't flinch. "I can't wait."

Roan giggles wildly as you tickle down into the crease of her neck. You laugh in response, completely infected by her joy.

"She has a really lovely laugh," you praise.

"She's not the only one," Eddie says seriously.

You meet his gaze over her bunches and wrinkle your nose at him when he winks.

He's a real charmer when he wants to be. You're just dying to be charmed.

-

more eddie and roan

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie and roan

[chiefdirector]

Just Forget the World | Tony Dinozzo | NCIS

No. 21: Blood loss

Despite what many may think, it wasn't always easy to separate your professional and personal lives. It was something Tony had always struggled with as he constantly brought up his sexual escapades, or sexapades as he had once referred to them as, or other like stories to lighten the tension in the office. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Gibbs, it was almost as if the older man had a switch in his brain for each of his lives; he could toggle it on and off in an instant.

If he had learnt to differentiate then maybe he wouldn't be in this position. He could've have a happy life, taken a desk job somewhere in the agency and retired happy. He wouldn't have fallen in love with his co-worker. Tony laughed at that thought, there was no way he wasn't going to fall in love with her.

From the moment he saw her sitting at her desk nervously flipping through some files; she only a probie agent, that much was clear, but nothing else about her was. Not for the life of him, could Tony Dinozzo figure this woman out, it was only through trial, tribulation, and constant questioning (pestering would have been a better word) did he begin to unravel the mystery of Agent (L/N).

Eventually, her guard did fall, and she found herself just in love with Tony as he did her. It was almost as if fate had aligned to bring them together, but if fate had come together to to that then fate had a sick and twisted sense of humour. Or maybe it wasn't fate's doing, maybe it was karma who took her from Tony.

The gunshot had rung out quickly, Tony almost didn't hear it among the harmony of church bells that celebrated their matrimony.on instinct he had caught her and lowered her onto the ground, one hand supporting her and the other pushing pressure onto the wound as it seeped red onto her once pristine gown.

"Hey, hey. I've got you. It's gonna be okay?" Tony felt the words tumble out of his mouth, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself alongside his bride. "You're not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"Tony," She said, voice cracking as she barely spoke above a whisper.

He shushed her, adjusting her so all of her body weight was against him. Still keeping pressure on the wound, he took his free hand to gently move her face to align their eyes.

"I've got you baby. Gibbs is going to figure this out but we need to focus on you. Someone will be here soon, and then they're going to patch you up. You see? Everything will be okay?"

The noise of their guests panicking had long since died down into silence, not that Tony had noticed in the first place. McGee had called an ambulance before herding any civilians back to the cars. Ziva and Gibbs had sprinted after the shooter. It was only the two of them left in the room as they waited for help to arrive.

"It'll just be us but you need to stay awake," he gently shook her as her eyes began to flutter, "I'm sure Vance will approve us some time away. We can go anywhere and just forget the world. But you need to stay awake for that, baby."

Tony shook her again, this time she seemed a bit more alert as she reached for the hand which he had pressed against his side.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out. If the room wasn't as silent as it was, Tony wasn't sure if he would have heard her confession or not.

"What for?" He could have laughed at that, and in any other situation he would have. "You have nothing to be sorry for?"

"You know... this."

Before he could muster up a response, McGee burst through the doors once again, paramedics close on his heels. Carefully, Tony shifted her into his arms so he could place her onto the gurney the medics had brought. They barely spoke a word as they rushed her out of the room and towards the ambulance.

Tony watched as she disappeared through the doors, stood in the same spot as he was when he had watched her walk towards him, the only difference now was his tux was forever stained in her blood.

Hours could have passed and he wouldn't have noticed, it was only as McGee spoke did he snap back to his reality. "She'll be okay, Tony.'

But for the first time in a long, long time was he unsure. The only thing he knew was that if he had kept his personal life to himself then the love of his life wouldn't be bleeding out; if he kept his personal life to himself, her tomorrow would be guaranteed and not just a 'maybe.'

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober @callsign-ember @happygirl-0408

#ncis imagine #tony dinozzo imagine #tony dinozzo x reader #chiefdirector #ncis #ncis tony #ncis cbs #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo #leroy jethro gibbs #ailesswhumptober

[dayseternal-blog]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

:D my 5 favorite fics that I've written?? okay.

"It's No Secret" - Hinata returns to Konoha after 5 years studying abroad in the Moon Kingdom. She just wants to enjoy her last year of high school as a normal girl, but blossoming love forces her to confront her future. (Rated M). - My baby fish. A high school AU for which I was really trying all different kinds of things and making all kinds of mistakes, finding my writing style. As a fanfic writer newbie, I felt so free to do whatever I wanted! Every scene for me was gripping, and I was so immersed in the world I was trying to create. It has an original, lengthy plot that I still hope to finish one day!!! I love this fic just because it was so instrumental to helping me improve. It's definitely NOT my best work, but from the first chapter to the most recently published chapter, my growth in writing is so apparent. All of the comments I got on it, even the ones that criticized, were encouraging for me and I cherish those readers who've followed my fics since then 💞

"Nightdreams" - Naruto and Hinata find comfort in each other after the war. (Rated E). - The easiest multi-chapter fic to write. Ever. Since then, I've never had quite as much fun writing a fic (I think Catskin came close). Certainly never as easy a time. "Nightdreams" had its moments of growth for me for sure, though, like the mission chapter, the argument chapter, all of the smut! It had its challenges, but the story flowed so easily, from beginning to end. I think there were only a couple of small writer's blocks. Overall, "Nightdreams" easily takes fave #2 just because it was so fun, and I think readers can tell that I really enjoyed writing it.

"Awkward Jocks" - She knows that if he were to ever ask her out, she would accept in a heartbeat. After all, he's the star quarterback and basketball player. Plus, she's liked him since...forever. But when her home phone rings, and he's on the other line, she hangs up. (Rated G). - The sweet and funny love story based off of my ex-coworker's life...bittersweet now, don't remember if I shared on Tumblr why. But I wrote this fic full of my love for her, so it takes the spot for fave #3.

"About You" - A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other. (Rated G). - One of my most personal fanfics, though many of them are super personal. This is possibly the MOST personal because it's slightly based off of my parents' stories, I set it on my home island, and I experimented with writing the dialogue in pidgin. The only reason it's not higher on my list is because I somehow feel like I didn't do as good a job on it as I would have liked. It's like, the cultural/historical details are not accurate enough for me. But this is definitely a fic I wrote for myself, and it's been a joy to see other people love it, too.

"Matcha" from "Shared Vows" - Naruto calls Hiashi "father" for the first time. (Rated T). - ooooh it was a toss-up between this one or "Finally Home" from "Shared Vows," but I decided on "Matcha" as my fave #5. I love how I framed this fic, its ending reversing the beginning, and I somehow managed to communicate exactly what I wanted to say about Naruto's new family. This fic gives me such feel-good vibes, and I'm so glad it captured the feelings I felt.

I know that my personal faves do not align with readers' personal faves. Except for maybe "Nightdreams" haha. That one is easy to love. I know people loved "White Lilies," "Friend of Mine," "Tell Me of Forevers," and "Undercover," ...those exhibit some of my best technical writing, so I'm glad readers recognized that effort! My personal faves have more sentimental value, I guess, so that's what makes them special to me.

#anon #nice anon #nice ask #ask game #fic author self rec #naruhina fanfic recs #because why not #about my writing

[mixtcpes]

₊˙ ◌ ⁎˚ 〇﹒﹙kim mingyu. cis male. he/him.﹚guess who was almost late for their shift at kyobo book centre again?? that’s right, it was yoo jaehoon! it’s a wonder their job as a manager isn’t in jeopardy. the twenty-five year old has been working at sunset galleria for seven years, and is well known for their perceptive nature. on bad days, they can be rather vindictive, though. when the mall is dead at night, they can usually be found teaching his baby sister to skateboard through the mall, but don’t tell their boss!

hi hello! i'm casie (she/her, 21+) and i'll be bringing my favorite little dude yoo jaehoon to the group! you can find some info about him below - if you'd like to plot or get a starter going just give this a like and i'll slip slide into your ims! i also have a discord - feel free to ask if you'd like to chat there instead!! (TW: ALCOHOLISM, ABANDONMENT, PREGNANCY, PARENT DEATH).

okay so summary of his early life: his mom was mia and his dad had trouble settling down. yoo jaemin was a dreamer and when his dreams inevitably didn't work out he'd fall into alcohol and anger until he found a new idea to latch onto. they moved from place to place, expending the hospitality of their neighbors until they were eventually forced out again. it was one neighbor in particular, an elderly man who sold oranges from a fold out chair in the street, that started developing jaehoon's love of stories. the man would talk to jaehoon for hours, telling him the most fascinating and exciting tales. when he introduced jaehoon to the library and an entire building of stories, jaehoon's young life was changed forever.

things took a turn from the better when, after a drunken bar fight landed him in the hospital, jaemin met oh inah. she was one of his nurses and she was charmed by his sweet smile and big plans. they dated briefly and married quickly and jaehoon found himself suddenly part of a complete family that came pre-built with an older brother and a mom. he had trouble trusting that the situation was permanent, but after a couple of years of patience and effort from both his step brother and inah, he found himself truly happy for the first time in his life.

it was only a matter of time before jaemin once more started concocting big plans that ended up in disaster. after convincing inah to put her life's savings into helping him purchase a run-down building he'd planned to fix up, the building ended up collapsing and the investment was greater than what he could sell the land for. they were broke. after a few months of vicious fighting, jaemin finally dipped leaving his son behind.

inah didn't for a second make jaehoon feel unwelcome or like a burden despite her new situation. she made it clear he was her son, no different from her oldest. she focused on making sure he was okay in the aftermath even as she found herself struggling to make ends meet. jaehoon got his first job as a delivery boy at fourteen years old to help out how he could.

they moved into a tiny one room apartment - the boys shared the bedroom and inah slept on the couch. she picked up extra shifts at the hospital and did what she could to make sure her kids didn't want for much. but they were both old enough to know what was happening and jaehoon did his very best to stay near the top of his class in school and have enough energy to bring in some extra money.

after he graduated secondary school, he got a job at kyobo book centre and really found a place he was comfortable. his plan was to save up some money, do his military service, and then come back and go to university so he could become a teacher. but life has a way of not working out quite right. inah found out she was pregnant when jaehoon was twenty one years old, and she gave birth to oh hana was born when he was twenty two. the birth had some complications and after a couple of days inah passed away.

naturally, jaehoon was distraught. but he and his brother had a kid to take care of so he didn't let himself linger in the feelings for long and threw himself into work. what was meant to be a job for a few years ended up becoming something more permanent and he worked his way up to management pretty quickly. since then, keeping up the store, taking care of hana, and working on his own creative projects have been the things keeping him going while he tries to figure out how he can climb out of the hole again.

(((bless u if u made it through that i didn't expect it to be so long)))

extras!!

jaehoon goes by jae by most people and hoonie only by family or family friends.

man loves to skate and skateboard. he'll cruise through the mall, audiobook playing in his ears just to relax a little bit after everything quiets down and customers disperse.

he's a writer (of course). he hasn't gotten brave enough to post any of his stuff yet, but he has volumes and volumes of notebooks and binders stuffed with poems, novels, short stories, and essays.

hana is basically his world she comes first before everything. he tries to keep her with a sitter when both he and his brother are working but sometimes funds don't allow for that and she ends up accompanying him on the job (she is very opinionated about new release picture books).

annotates the hell out of his books.

has major major trust issues but hides it with a dorky smile. he knows more about most people in his life than anybody knows about him.

looks like a punk, acts like puppy

favorites: rom coms, spring, tattoos, tea, spicy noodles, youtube documentaries, pranks

dislikes: spiders (he's repulsed), shrimp (he's allergic), violent storms (he's afraid), horror (he's doubly afraid), bullies (he's angry)

***if you're interested in bringing in another muse and would like to bring in his step brother lmk! i'm going to submit it as a wc on the main soon!

******cleaner intro, info pages, and wanted connections coming soon

#sunsetintro #yjh intro.

[totallyynotmxxa]

Part two lol

"Now, 9€∆^€®, although it may seem as if you're free without your medication, you have to understand the damage you're inflicting not only on yourself but also your loved ones. Don't worry, in no time at all you'll learn just how freeing it is to be.. better."

"Please, 9€∆^€®, you need to calm down for just a moment. I'm very sorry your hair seems to be thinning, but perhaps it has something to do with your increased amounts of stress. I assure you your medications are not the cause. Perhaps you should look for new ways to relieve stress, pick up a hobby or two!"

"Oh, I'm so happy for you! Why don't you tell me how she makes you feel,  9€∆^€®? With such strong feelings, you should most likely watch from afar first, you could scare her away with how passionate you are. She seems like a very shy girl after all. Perhaps you should keep a very close eye on her so you know what to talk to her about or what commonalities you two have. Good, you're doing such a good job 9€∆^€®."

Her smile felt safe, engulfing the entirety of  9€∆^€®'s being. He knew had made the right choice when opening up to his therapist all those years ago. She's never failed him before and always consoled him when he messed up, and always forgave him when he blamed her advice for his own actions falling through.

                      /-----------------------------------------------\

The light was different this time. She wasn't beneath a mid day sky on the ground, instead there was a slight, barely there glow that came with a rising sun and more warm colors than cool ones resting in the sky. And while she didn't feel the tickles or hear the whispers of the playful wind, she did feel an odd sort of pattern, similar to breathing, very close to her.

The girl found that her entire body was covered underneath a thick, warm blanket. Suddenly and without warning, her brain kick-started her body for the day, leaving her awake and energized despite her unwillingness to be so. With a better grip on herself than she had yesterday, she began to realize what she had done and just how bizarre this whole situation was. She recalled how she broke into a stranger's house, ate their food, and then slept in their bed. She recalled how she never left said bed.

Movement to her side alerted her that she wasn't alone, startling her and prompting her to turn quickly. When the girl caught sight of who she assumed lived in this cottage, she felt her breath catch in her throat before she could utter a word.

Sleeping peacefully and unaware of her consciousness was a cosplayer that fit this cabin extremely well. While she was entirely confused, she also found she was excited and terrified at the same time. The girl dreaded the moment this talented cosplayer would wake up, scold her for trespassing, call the cops on her, and then forever have a horrible impression of her. Observing them carefully, she found they had every detail down, from the very evenly applied green foundation (their hands and their neck and their eyelids, wow they were dedicated) to the outfit, the antenna thingies resting on their head, and if she leaned her head around them a bit, they even had the tail laying behind them.

The Mychael cosplayer shifted and their mouth closed from the open position they had been drooling out of in their sleep. The girl immediately tensed up, her breathing coming to a stop as they woke and sat up in the chair next the bed (their bed, oh my goodness she's still on their bed they let her sleep and put a blanket on her and sat in a chair by her what is even her life anymore??)

While the girl couldn't see the cosplayer's eyes, she could only imagine someone this dedicated would have the contacts as well, maybe even draw on some realistic looking eyes for the full effect, and she could definitely imagine them staring with an entirely unimpressed face at her worried expression.

"You're awake! That's.. better." Instead of the immediate scolding she expected, they seemed relieved (sort of) that she had woken up at all, with no tone to indicate she was in trouble. Despite this, she still worried about their pause in talking, unable to interpret what it meant when their tone was so ambiguous and the upper half of their face was covered.

Before she could even process what they said, the cosplayer continued. "I was worried when I found a random person passed out on my bed and my food gone, but when I saw the state you were in and the way you wouldn't wake up, I figured you probably needed it more than me." They seemed to pause again, as if they didn't know if this was the appropriate time to ask a question (as if she hadn't broken into their house and acted like an animal).

"Can I ask why you're this far out in the woods? It isn't exactly safe this far in without a way back or any equipment." They seemed concerned and almost like they were scolding her.

Well, she couldn't exactly tell them the truth, she would seem crazy or like she was lying. The girl spoke slowly, as if piecing together a story. "Well, it's a bit fuzzy, but I passed out from dehydration at some point yesterday and I woke up too hungry to think clearly. I'm really sorry for breaking into your home and, uh, eating your food and sleeping in your bed..." Even she realized how she sounded, as if she should be treated with caution for how lackluster the explanation and apology were.

Despite how the girl was dying inside at not having any sort of excuse, the person across from her seems to find amusement rather than alarm in her antics. "Oh, it's no problem. I'm actually happy that you found my little home if you needed it so badly. I can only imagine how relieved you were to find some food and a place to sleep." They smiled widely at her, a few too many teeth than one would normally show. Maybe she was a bit weird, but it was kind of endearing.

"Thank you so much for being so, well, uh, not upset at me. I really was entirely out of it yesterday, I couldn't exactly think straight and I am absolutely mortified at my behavior, so I'm really grateful you're here and not some secret axe murderer of the woods, you know?" The girl laughed awkwardly at her own (unfunny) joke, embarrassed at her own rambling but unable to stop herself.

If anything, this absolute saint of a person only seems even more cheery than before. Their cheeks seem to strain at how wide they're smiling and they let out a couple chuckles after she jokes. "It's alright, don't worry! You're welcome to rest some more if you need it or even get yourself a drink. Actually, why don't we get you some breakfast. It's pretty early, so today is gonna be a long one." They stand up from the chair and help the girl from the bed, guiding her to the kitchen/dining room she ate from yesterday.

They seated her at the table, telling her to wait while they cooked something up. As she sat silently thinking to herself, the girl realized she hadn't even asked them for their name, let alone given them hers. Actually, now that she thought about it, she hadn't even referred to herself by name in her own head since she's woken up. What was her- "Here we go! Some fresh vegetables, some eggs, and a bit of meat. Enjoy!'

Placed in front of her was exactly as they described, placed on the plate in sections. "Uh, you don't have to eat the meat if you don't eat meat.. I forgot to ask, so I won't mind if you don't want it." They look nervous, but she didn't know what to say, so she quietly dug in to the meal, surprised by how good they made an easy breakfast taste.

"Woah! This is delicious! These might just be the best eggs I've ever had. How do you make eggs this good? Also these vegetables are amazing. Do you grow your own or something?" When she looked up from her plate, she saw that they had just been watching her eat the whole time. She swallowed the food she had been chewing while talking, embarrassed they watched her do that. "Yep, I grow all the vegetables you just ate, and I have my own chicken so the eggs are from here too. I'm glad you like my cooking."

She found herself heavily embarrassed by how enthusiastic she had been, but she quickly pushed that feeling away, because what was there to be embarrassed about really? She liked their food and she needed some breakfast, simple as that. "Actually, I had been meaning to ask you something." She watched as her words made them stiffen, their ears tilting down slightly. She wondered how they made them do that at all, perhaps they used mechanical ones instead of the normal ones that are just there.

"What's your name? I wanted to ask but I also didn't know when I should." They seemed to go back to normal, even if the change was very slight, and chuckled a bit before answering. "Oh, I guess I didn't introduce myself, did I? Hiya! I'm Mychael. With a Y." The girl stared at them for a second.

"Like the character? That's a crazy coincidence. Super cool though. Is that why you decided to cosplay him?" They seemed both confused and delighted. "Cooss -play? Uh, what's that? And what character are you talking about? I guess it is pretty cool to share a name with a character, but I've never heard of another Mychael with a y." They tilted their head to the left, absolutely destroying her heart from how unfairly cute they looked.

Despite how absolutely adorable they looked at the moment, their little absent-minded smile and the blue on their ears, the girl felt her heart drop a bit at their genuine confusion. She seemed to only just take notice of how their "makeup" hasn't smudged even a bit, the green looked so natural on them, their ears could move, and they hadn't seemed uncomfortable in the slightest at being caught cosplaying in the middle of the woods, wearing it into the next day. She remembered that they slept in the chair by the bed, apparently looking the same as yesterday. Although she hadn't considered it before, the girl now found she was genuinely contemplating the idea that she maaaay have been... isekaied. Or transmigrated. She never really learned the difference. Either way, the more thought she put into it, the more likely it seemed. She woke up, unsure of her surroundings or how she got there, her feet were different for some reason, she found a cabin in the woods and met someone who looks unnervingly identical to a character they claim to share a name with (and also live exactly the same, with pretty much the same personality) and now she was wondering what her own name was.

It was official. This was the real Mychael with a y in front of her. At least, she thinks it is. If it's not, then this is one intense cosplayer with an extreme dedication to roleplaying, which would probably be worse. "Oh, it's just a character from a novel I read when I was younger, but I can't remember the name of it, sorry." She paused, unsure if she should explain cosplaying to him. "Uh, also, I just meant that you seemed.. similar to him, you know? You guys look really alike and you live in a cabin in the woods! That's all." She watched as he considered her words, touching his ears hesitantly and looking at his hand.

"We look alike? That must've been one weird book you read." They- he seemed ready to move past this topic already and she was more than okay with that. "Anyways! I never introduced myself either! I'm, uh, well, my name is.." she couldn't remember her own name, and she couldn't think of a fake one that wouldn't feel wrong. Suddenly she remembered a YouTuber she watched, and she remembered what they would name things in the games they played. "Well, my name is Waffle, but that's kinda weird so I didn't know if I should, uh, tell you at first. Yeah."

He laughed a bit at that, his idle smile turning into a real one. "I wouldn't have guessed, but it's not that weird. You could have been named something gross or really boring!" He moved to take her plate seeing as she was done with it. "Imagine being named without any thought to it. You could have been named anything and your parents chose to name you after a delicious food. Sounds awesome to me." He put the dishes in the sink, starting to wash them.

As the conversation came to a pause, the girl found she was actually kind of thirsty. She felt too awkward to rummage around his stuff as if she owned the place, but she didn't really want to bother him either, especially after how nice he's been. Then she reminded herself he was probably never going to let she go if he liked her and she didn't feel bad anymore.

"I don't really want to bother you, but I'm pretty thirsty. Do you have something I could drink?" He looked back at her with a small smile. "Of course, I can make you some tea if you don't mind. Does that sound alright?" Her heart pounded in her chest despite herself at how he asked her. God he sounded so sweet. It sucks that he was actually kind of insane. She nodded and had to keep herself from fumbling over her words. "Yeah, sure. I don't have anything wrong with tea. Thanks a bunch." Wow is it just her or did her words sound super not genuine and like she really didn't want the tea, or was that just her over analyzing her speech?

Nevertheless, Mychael didn't seem to pick up on whatever she thought she sounded like, and he started to make her some tea. There was a comfortable silence as he made the tea and she finally started thinking about her situation.

She was.. transported, for lack of a better word, to whatever place Mychael exists now. Was she in another world? Or did Mychael always exist and she was still in her world? If she's in another world, is the rest of the world the same or is it different in some weird ways she may not account for? Will she ever see her family again? Actually she wouldn't mind that that much... She'd be a bit sad still, though. But what about her friends? She kinda cared about them, maybe she loved them? Did she go missing or was there some kind of doppelganger in her place? Did she die? She didn't recall dying, but maybe that's for the best. She doesn't think she could handle it.

And now she was somewhere she might not leave if she wasn't careful. She needed to figure out a way to leave, because she could not stand staying in one place for too long. She's never been one to enter relationships no matter how much she likes the thought, and that's majorly because she likes her freedom. Freedom she won't get if she stays here.

As Mychael sat down with her cup of tea and a warning about the heat falling from his lips, the girl (Waffle, she told herself) found that she didn't quite have it in her to listen. All she could feel was the mounting dread of being trapped, stuck in one place and unable to say a word in fear of being drugged by this possessive creep. (No matter how cute, he's real now. And that is terrifying.)

She took the cup in her hands and blew on the tea gently, rhythmically, and carefully took a sip. As it burned her tongue anyways, she held on to the cup and kept sipping. She would not show weakness in form of this man. Because that is what he is, and she would remind herself that he was even more dangerous than regular men (because magic, duh), so she would treat him accordingly. She would be so very sweet, gain his absolute trust, perhaps figure out how light of a sleeper he is, and she would find her way out of here. If she failed, well, she'll just try not to think about it. Even as he sits across from her with a smile on his face, as he's done most of the morning so far, and watches her from behind his hair.

This time, his smile doesn't make her heart beat loudly, rather, it sinks her heart to the bottom of her stomach. She already feels like she's been trapped, and she has no one to blame but herself for entering his house willingly.

[gucciwins]

Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles ou #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #firefighter!harry #harry fanfic #harry fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #my writing

[sovtwords]

a king and his pawns

pairing: kita shinsuke x reader x miya atsumu warnings: 18+, royalty!au, threesome (M/M/F), bisexuality, anal, double penetration, hand jobs, blow jobs, doggystyle, kissing with cum, dom/sub undertones, fluff, established relationship w/c: 7.7k a/n: -AO3 LINK HERE- This is a little side-story thing I wrote for a royal!au I haven't actually gotten around to writing yet so WELP. It's fine tho, this was written for Kita's bday and he deserves it. LOVE YOU!! This fic features men engaging in sexual acts together so if that ain't your cup of tea then feel free to back out if you're uncomfortable! I'm bad at writing smut anyway, you'd probably be doing yourself a favour lmao. Regardless, enjoy!! Please lemme know what you think.

Kita Shinsuke was stressed. It’s not often the King loses his cool, but it seems as though life wishes to taunt him this week. Trade with Corvus has momentarily stopped due to an internal dispute meaning the Kingdom will be low on textiles for the unforeseeable future, a sudden drought has put the crops at risk, and Ginjima continues to test his patience with every new raid on the homesteads just outside of the kingdoms border - not within where Kita can arrest him, but close enough to be a thorn in his side.

He’s so very tired and so very alone, and everyone sees it as they convene for weekly meetings. They eye him with worry, yet he shrugs off every word of concern with the grace as befitting his title, though his Masters of War and Prosperity respectively eye him the most, the worry so potent on Lady Miya’s face he feels a warmth blooming in his chest. She even dares to lay a comforting hand on her king, and he allows only her to disregard her courtesies (not that she would ever forget them) and touch him. It’s nice to be treated well.

The meeting ends, and Kita is so close to retiring to his balcony to rest for a while until he notices that the happily married couple stay. “Ya alright there, Kita?” Atsumu asks, opting to drop all formalities and talk as friends like when they were younger. Kita’s glad for it.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and knows it wasn’t very convincing with the way they stare in disbelief. “Things are just tense right now. I’m sure we’re all feeling it,” he elaborates. Lady Miya takes his hand in hers once more, small fingers gripping tightly onto his. He keeps his eyes trained on them.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to burden this alone. It’s why you have your council. And you don’t have to hide anything from us. We’re here to listen to you, my King, so please – share your worries with us, so that you might feel better.”

Ah. His heart clenches with affection, and a soft smile grows on his face when he looks at the earnestness in your gaze, thumb idly stroking your fingers and momentarily forgetting that your husband is still in the room, sitting just to his left. But it’s so easy to forget that when his attention is focused on the right of the table, when Atsumu himself hasn’t said a word when normally he would screech if anyone dared get chummy with his wife, King or not.

“Thank you, my Lady. It warms my heart to know that you care so deeply,” he says carefully, pulling back with a quiet sigh. “But I’m fine, truly. I find that reading the books that you gifted to me helps me to relax.”

“I know another way ya might relax,” Atsumu interrupts before his wife gets sucked into a long conversation about stories.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s something more suited for behind the doors of your chambers, if ya catch my drift,” Atsumu smirks, while his Lady looks appalled. Kita feels the tips of his ears burn but keeps his expression as stony as ever.

“That’s crude, Atsumu. And you know that I’m averse to…” he trails off awkwardly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Atsumu laughs.

“I know ya don’t take concubines. But that doesn’t stop ya from reading the spicier books in the library, does it?”

“What’s yer point, Atsumu?” He asks bluntly. Better to get whatever trick he has planned over and done with. The blonde smirks, eyes shifting between himself and his wife.

“Was just wonderin’ if ya wanted a private show, that’s all. My Lady here makes for quite the spectacle. Just a way for ya to destress.”

Lady Miya gasps loudly, a blush burning on her face as she stares at her husband in complete shock while Kita’s heart stalls in his chest.

Watch his friends while they… No. That’s a boundary he should not cross. No matter how many times his eyes have slipped downwards to where your chest is pushed upwards by the corsets of your newer dresses, or how smooth your neck looked when you lean over to discuss reports with him, he…no. Such intimacy should belong in their bedroom, not his. Right?

“Atsumu, that's not a funny joke. You should watch your mouth and apologise to your wife for embarrassing her“

“Hold on now, your highness, she didn’t say no.”

Kita blinks. Looking to where she sits, he sees the obvious humiliation on her face, clear as day as the heat on her cheeks. But with it, a look of conflict, a spark of curiosity in your eyes when they lock with his.

“I…If it pleases my King, then I don’t mind. I would do anything for my King,” she says resolutely, and the way your voice grows airy every time she speaks of his title sends sparks straight to his groin. He swallows harshly, opens and closes his mouth a few times as he feels the heat of Atsumu’s smirk boring down on him. It had definitely been a while since he’d done anything of that nature, but… was this really ok?

It’s silent for what seems like forever. Eventually Kita calls out to the servant standing outside the council room.

“Find the largest chaise you can find and have it delivered to my room. I want it there by tonight.”

God’s above, save him. He was really going through with this.

- - - - - - - -

Night has fallen, the castle is quiet.

He doesn’t know how he should act. It seems as though nobody except Atsumu knows how to act, if the way Lady Miya sits with her back straight as a pillar and arms folded politely in her lap was any indication. Atsumu lounges against the chaise in front of Kita’s bed with a drink in one hand and fingers twirling through the sash of your robe in the other , waiting for either Kita or his wife to make any sort of move, though it seems as though their nerves have gotten the best of them.

“Shy, Kita?” the blonde Lord asks. Kita gives an embarrassed furrow of his brows, but stays quiet. Atsumu chuckles. “Well then. Does my King agree to let me be the one in charge tonight?”

How treacherous of Atsumu to ask, but with no real idea on how to go about this, Kita relinquishes control with a mute nod of his head. Better to let Atsumu take the reins than for him to accidentally cross a boundary he was unsure of. Atsumu downs his wine in record time, and moves to place it on a nearby dresser before returning to his Lady. He takes hold of your face with such reverence and love that Kita has to look away and swallow down the bitter jealousy swirling like bile in his gut. He hears Atsumu whisper some reassurances to you, and nimble fingers undo the sash around your waist.

You stand up at Atsumu’s request, and he takes your spot on the chaise, posted in front of the King for his viewing pleasure. “Didn’t want ya to miss this,” Lord Miya says, and swiftly loosens your robes, letting them pool around your feet and laying bare your silky and soft flesh for Kita to see. Dark eyes rove over plump breasts, wide hips and thick thighs, and he’s convinced that no concubine in the world could ever compete with the beauty standing in front of him, made all the more sweeter that you’re a coveted treasure by your husband, making Kita the only other man to ever see you like this. It makes his cock twitch in his breeches, and makes Atsumu smile devilishly because he knows the effect this is having on his superior.

Your gasp alerts him to the fingers that have slipped between your legs from behind to cup your sex, brushing against the light hair that Kita wants nothing more than to bury his face in right now. “She’s as sweet as a peach, this one,” Atsumu coos, pressing all the right buttons and gifting Kita with moans and sighs that Angels would blush to hear. “As wet as one, too. Let’s show King Kita, shall we?”

Without prodding you sit in Atsumu’s lap and allow him to spread your legs wide, and the candlelight makes the slick gathering on your cunt and thighs glisten, Kita’s brain faltering at the sight. His body grows hot with want, with need , and he nearly rips his shirt off of his body, composure slipping with each second that passes. Atsumu offered to let him watch, but now he’s not sure if he’s content to be just a bystander.

You hum and squeal when Atsumu pushes two of his fingers past your folds, pushing in and out at a gentle pace that you’re no doubt familiar with as he prepares you for greater things to come. “Yer so quiet, Kita. Are ya not enjoying yourself?”

The Lady  looks at him then, a gentle pinch to her brows. “Are you…not satisfied with me, my King?”

Atsumu flashes an exaggerated pout over your shoulder. “Yeah, my King. After exposin’ my wife like this for ya, is she not enough?”

“She’s beautiful,” he chokes, clears his throat but it has little effect with how thick with lust his voice has grown. “She’s perfect.”

The smile on your pretty little face does funny things with his head.

“Ya hear that, my love?” Atsumu holds you close and rocks you side to side. “The King thinks yer beautiful. I dunno if many ladies can say that. Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you, my King. I’m honoured,” you grin. Kita gives you a small smile in return, though it falters at the edges when Atsumu catches you off guard and thrusts his fingers into you with great speed. It sounds wet and hot and Kita’s hand wraps around the bulge in his pants, stiff and begging to be touched, especially when the usually composed Lady Miya in front of him whimpers and pants like you’re in heat, moving your hips in sensual ways and locking eyes with Kita to steal the air from his lungs.

“A-Atsumu!” you gasp, wrapping a hand behind you to grasp the hair of your husband, but the smirk stays on his face, enjoying your plight. “Be gentle!”

“You love it,” he shushes you, planting kisses on your neck and biting down on your shoulder when you grow too rowdy. “Besides, we promised King Kita a good show, didn’t we? I have to prepare ya, don’t want ya cryin’ because yer tight hole wasn’t ready to be filled.”

You moan loudly when Atsumu brushes over your clitoris roughly, small hands moving to cover your mouth, and it’s the final push Kita needed to remove his trousers and take his cock in hand.

You watch in silence as he undresses, eyes immediately zoning in on the length and girth of his member, biting your lip for a different reason than when your husband removes his fingers from your core. Atsumu brings them up to the light to look at them curiously. They’re soaked from knuckle to fingertip, and when he pulls them apart tendrils of your slick keep them connected. Kita’s overcome with the desire to touch it, to touch you, see how you taste.

The smile Atsumu gives him sends chills through his body, as if his Master of War had read his mind.

“I think he wants a taste, my sweet,” Atsumu rubs soothing circles into your hip with his free hand, keeping his calculating eyes on his King. “What do you think?”

“The King can have whatever he wants,” is your answer, hiding a smile in your husband’s jawline while he laughs. Fuck, they were going to drive Kita insane. What surprises him even more, is instead of offering your pussy for Kita to lose himself in, Atsumu holds out his hand, like offering his fealty to the King once more as he had sworn so long ago.

“Then by all means, have a taste.”

There is a moment where it’s entirely too silent save for the heavy breathing Lady Miya is trying to get under control. A million thoughts run through Kita’s mind as his eyes flicker between Atsumu’s fingers, his childhood friends’ face, and the naked woman before him. It feels like entirely new territory, uncharted waters that Kita has only thought about dipping his toes into before running back out for fear of falling too deep into the water.

But in Atsumu’s eyes there's nothing but trust and desire, and in your eyes there's encouragement and adoration. His heart hammers in his chest, and burns with the overwhelming love and support from his closest. It makes his limbs move before his brain can catch up, leaning forward with his mouth opening while Atsumu’s grin grows wider, taking the digits in his mouth before hesitation can settle.

It’s strange, to suck on your best friend’s fingers, long and thick in his mouth, calloused from years of sword fighting as his tongue brushes against the pads of his fingertips. He can barely taste the saltiness of his skin though, as your sweet juices invade his senses like a summer wine, pure and sweet like the woman they came from. He grabs hold of Atsumu’s wrist when he makes to remove them, licking and scraping his teeth on them in a way that makes Atsumu’s breath hitch with widened eyes, and Kita mentally records it as a win before slowly releasing with a pop, lines of spit breaking the further away Kita gets as he takes his place on his bed once more, precum leaking from his slit.

It is Lady Miya who breaks Atsumu out of his trance with a gentle hand cupping his cheek and turning his attention back to the situation at hand. The smile on your face is light-hearted, if not mischievous, a gleam to your eye letting Kita know that you enjoyed what you just witnessed. “I think, dear husband, I’m ready to get fucked hard for the King.”

An impish grin blooms on Atsumu’s flushed face immediately at his wife’s forwardness. Honestly, Kita had never expected the Lady to be this way. You had always been on the reserved side, befitting your rank and lessons in etiquette. Quiet, polite, spoke when spoken to. If someone had told him a few years ago when Atsumu had introduced you to Kita when you were still giving the twins lessons in etiquette that he would be witnessing you in such a lewd position and answering all of the fantasies he had locked away, he would have almost laughed out loud at the absurd notion.

Funny how life works.

“Should we let his Royal Highness choose how I do it?” The blonde pushes his hair out of his eyes, and both Lord and Lady Miya look at him, eyes alight with interest.

“I…,” Kita clears his throat, brain bringing forth images of every position imaginable. He squeezes the base of his cock. Save it for the grand finale. “I want the Lady on her hands and knees facing me.”

That causes Atsumu to laugh in delight.

“Ah, takin’ her from behind, like mounting a bitch in heat,” he snorts. You pout at the language, but Atsumu kisses it away, lips pressing lightly against the bridge of your nose until you’re smiling again. “Never would’ve assumed ya liked it that way. Not very proper, is it?” Atsumu comments.

“Are you here to question your King on what he likes in bed, or are you going to deliver on your promise and show me somethin’ good?” Kita remarks.

Atsumu delivers another laugh as he lifts his wife off of his lap and places her onto the soft, cushioned chaise lounge as promised, knees spread apart and encouraging you to lean onto your elbows.

For a moment, as Atsumu undresses, he regrets not choosing a position that allows him to watch more closely as he enters in and out of you, but any complaints he has dies when Atsumu spits into his hand and rubs at his stiff member, lining it up with your entrance. Kita nearly cums all over his hand when he locks eyes with the woman across from him as Atsumu pushes in with a sigh of relief, no doubt seeking any sort of pleasure for his aching cock just like Kita. At least he has a pussy to bury himself in. King Kita just has his fist.

Your eyes flutter as Atsumu goes deeper into your tight cavern, groaning and furrowing your brows while you clutch onto the chair beneath you. You whimper when he bottoms out, and are only given a moment to adjust while Atsumu looks at Kita in question.

‘Shall I start?’, he seems to say.

Kita nods, and watches in perverse fascination as Atsumu rears his hips back and thrusts forward once more, making you choke on a scream as he sets a relentless pace, not holding anything back.

Your moans mix with yelps and screams of pleasure as your husband pounds into you from behind, round hands on soft hips and curls loosening from where they were pinned back on your head. Kita’s eyes stay glued to where your tits bounce with the force, hand finally giving him some relief and stroking his weeping cock, unwinding some of the tension in his shoulders and stoking the fire in his gut. He wants to reach out and fondle your chest, your nipples, but stays his hand, fear of crossing that damned boundary getting to him.

Atsumu is loud, he realises, almost as loud as his wife is right now. He groans and he growls like a wild animal, so overcome by the feeling of his Lady, of everything that she is, and praises fall from his lips like the water rushes down the mountain’s peaks.

“F-Fuck, yer so tight, I love it,” he grits, reaching over to grab hold of your chest like Kita wanted to do so badly. “So wet for me, for your King. Ya love getting fucked in front of him, practically beggin’ me for weeks.”

Kit almost feels as if he shouldn’t be hearing this conversation, but such crude words make him fist his cock faster, wet with precum and helping him ease the friction of hand to dick.

“A-Atsumu, I-”

“Don’t lie,” he laughs. He pinches your nippple roughly, and earns himself a gasp. “Every time ya called me yer sweet King, you were thinkin’ ‘bout him, too. Weren’t ya?”

You can say nothing, only look at your ruler with unbridled lust in your eyes. It’s getting harder to breathe now as he pumps his dick in time with his friend’s thrusts, entranced by the look on your face and Atsumu’s voice.

“Thought s-so,” Atsumu stutters when he rubs at your clit and you squeez hard. “Well, I’d do anythin’ for ya. Guess that includes fuckin’ ya silly in front of your King.”

Atsumu tsk’s and lifts your torso up so Kita can have the best seat in the house. Eyes stay glued to where they are connected, pistoning in and out of your walls and glistening with your slick. It brings forth images of wanting to get closer, let his tongue feel the both of them at once but it's so outlandish that it brings heat to his cheeks and pushes him closer to his release, chest heaving with exertion as everyone in the room reaches a crescendo like a symphony of sex.

That is until Atsumu stops abruptly, and it's so sudden and odd when the sounds of skin slapping cease that it causes everyone to lose their high, cooling down with irritation and impatience.

Atsumu's chest heaves air with great effort, yet his eyes are sharp as he regards his King.

"I think," he starts, easing out of his wife slowly, making you whine at the loss. "King Kita is lookin' a lil lonely. And it's our duty as his advisors and subjects to serve the King, right my love?"

You blink in surprise, when a smile curls at the corner of your lips, one that you definitely learned from your husband. Affection blooms on Atsumu's face at your reaction.

"We should give him a hand," the blonde declares, and suddenly he's carrying his wife over to the royal bed, laying you down gently against the rich, maroon satins and silks, hair splayed around you in rivulets like water. With equal parts curiosity and hesitation lacing his limbs, he moves further up the bed at Atsumu's insistence, coming face to face with you as you smiled kindly at him, lidded eyes and bottom lip plump from where you bite it.

He gives you one in return, one of the rare, genuine smiles he reserves for when he's with his closest and when he's happy. The sound of a throat clearing snaps his attention back to where Atsumu kneels at the end of the bed, cock bouncing against his lower stomach with every shift on the featherbed.

"Does my King allow us to do as we please with him?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he says yes, aching to feel the touch of something other than his own hand for once. Atsumu smirks.

“Wonderful.”

Moving closer, all three find themselves huddled in a circle of sorts, with two sets of eyes hungrily staring at him. Atsumu looks at his wife, and she stares right back. It becomes apparent to Kita then and there, that there is no imbalance between them. Though you may fold your hands when appropriate and open your mouth when addressed in broad daylight, though Atsumu’s words and hands guide you behind closed doors and you part your legs for him like a blossoming flower, they are, without a doubt, equals in every sense of the word. Atsumu gazes at you with such adoration it would give the poets something to sing about for centuries to come, and he is certain that if you were to give an order, Atsumu would bend and do it for you, no questions asked.

It’s funny - the Master of War and the Master of Prosperity; two things that could never work hand in hand, but ultimately make for a wonderful pair.

And it makes Kita’s heart yearn for even a drop, an ounce of what they share, for someone to look at him the way they do each other.

“Maybe I should give you some tips on how to go about it, my sweet,” Atsumu says, and it’s all the warning Kita gets before a large, rough hand wraps itself around his member. He jerks at the feeling, eyes wide at the blonde smirking before him, and he looks frantically at the Lady beside him who offers nothing more than a demure upturn of her lips.

“What are you doing?” demands Kita, but the words end in a choke when Atsumu’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

“I’m showin’ my wife how to please ya.”

“I-I think she w-would..” Kita has to stop talking to emit a whimper when Atsumu’s hand squeezes his dick. He swallows hard. “I think she would know how to please a man by now.”

“Hmm, yer right. She sure does know how to get me going, but…”

He removes his hand from Kita’s shaft for a brief moment to lift his wife’s leg, dragging a hand through your thighs and bringing it back to Kita’s erection, now slick with his wife’s juices and providing smoother friction.

“No harm in remindin’ her of the lessons. Watch carefully, love.”

It moves expertly up and down his length, knowing when to twist and squeeze, when to go fast and slow. Kita’s hips jerk up into Atsumu’s hand, unable to help the sighs and moans flying out from his chest. It feels good, so so so good, and a softer, more feminine pair of hands scrape gently over his chest, toying with his pert nipples and sending sparks straight down to his groin.

“He seems to like that,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the pulse in his neck. Kita is positive it must be ready to burst from his skin right now, yet still you suck and nip and paint his skin in the most delicate hues while your husband’s hand increases in speed. His other hand reaches down to fondle Kita’s balls, heavy and begging for release. Whines and whimpers grow louder as he approaches that sweet edge.

Atsumu hums. “He’s got a pretty cock, doesn’t he, my love? I bet you’re just drippin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it inside ya. Hungry for another man's dick.”

You shiver from your spot beside Kita, a hand scratching at his scalp and sending tingles down his spine, and a pink tongue poking out to lick at his nipples.

“P-Please…” Kita begs.

“Well, ’m hungry myself,” Atsumu continues, and swiftly dips down to take the head of Kita’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand never ceases its upwards and downwards motion. It's wet and hot, and the swirling of Atsumu's tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered is enough to make Kita moan aloud in surprise and pleasure. His face glowing red as he desperately thrusts into Atsumu's mouth but his brain is too clouded with lust to feel embarrassed at this moment.

His fingers grip onto rich bed sheets as he loses himself in the heat of Atsumu’s mouth, that mischievous tongue of his being put to good use and stroking the vein on the underside of his prick before bobbing up and down in time with his hand. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling tongues on different parts of his body but it feels glorious, to have these mouths worship and love him like he craves but never says aloud.

It feels like Atsumu’s mouth is barely on him for a moment before Kita is grasping onto the nearest things he could latch onto, Atsumu’s head of hair and your hand conveniently already in his, and he holds onto both for dear life as he cums with a loud and long groan, releasing into his friends mouth with surprise and twitching with the aftershocks when Atsumu keeps him in his mouth for a tad too long.

“T-Too much, please,” he stutters, and Atsumu takes pity on him for the time being, laughing at how wild and unkempt his King looks right now.

“I guess you’ll have to test out yer skills next time. Come here,” hands reach for his Lady’s face, and he lets drops of Kita’s cum still in his mouth fall into your own open and awaiting jaws, sealing it with a kiss that’s all tongue and wildness. The perverse sight of them sharing his fluids makes his cock twitch to life again with alarming speed, but it’s also the words echoing in his ears that stick with him.

Next time. Implying that this won’t be a once off thing, a strange night to remember for years to come.

It makes him hard in seconds, even after spilling his seed in his friend's mouth.

If the couple beside him are surprised at his recovery time, only Lady Miya shows it with a raise of your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Do you wish for more, my King?” you ask, traces of his load shining on the corners of your lips. He stops himself from reaching over to lick it off.

“Yes,” Kita sighs, and his chest seems to deflate with the motion, his words needy and wanting. “Please - keep going.”

“What do you want? Anything for you,” your hand cups his face with such gentleness he could cry. How sad it must be, for the simple touch of a person could be enough to shake him.

“I n-need you, I want you on top of me-” he has to stop himself with a sharp intake of breath. Eyes wide with fear look over to where Atsumu sits, a uncharacteristically stoic look on his face that makes Kita’s anxiety flare up. After a moment of silent contemplation, he opens his mouth.

“Does my King command it?”

It offers Kita a moment to rethink his words, to retrace his steps before they were taken. And as he looks at the faces of his friends for any signs of discomfort, looks at you for clear rejection, he sees no hesitation or resistance in either of their expressions. Only eagerness, anticipation for what could come. It strengthens his resolve.

“He does,” Kita says, with the air and grace of the King in power he is. And Atsumu grins like that cat who got the cream.

“Perfect,” he sings. “Lay back, yer Grace. Let us do everythin’ for ya.”

Doing as told, Kita finds himself a comfortable spot against the pillows and cushions, cock resting hard on his belly and watching as Atsumu coaxes his wife to straddle his hips. Hands fly instinctively to the squishy flesh of your hips and thighs, smooth like satin, and his grip on you only grows tighter once he feels just how wet you are, practically dripping onto his lower abdomen. It drives him mad with excitement, knowing he’s seconds away from shoving himself into your tight hole.

“Go on,” Atsumu encourages when you look back at him in question. “I’ll help ya when ya need me.”

Biting your lip, you peer down at Kita.

“I’m ready,” he assures you with a squeeze of your hips. You reach down to grab his member and he hisses when you pump him a few times, dragging it up and down your soaked folds. He worries his bottom lip at the sensation, and just when he gets used to it you line him up with your entrance and begin to sink down on him, ever so slowly.

He loses the ability to breathe when your warm heat engulfs him. His eyelids flutter, his toes curl, and they haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. Atsumu hums in approval when you finally sink down, hips flush with Kita’s, sighing in unison. You can’t help the grinding of your hips, trying to accommodate his size and girth, but it makes him growl and still your hips. “Give me a second,” he pleads. And you do, leaning down to give him his first kiss of the night. He can taste himself on your tongue, taste Atsumu along with him, and your tongues tentatively brush and move against each other as you grow accustomed to the feeling of your lips on the others.

He catches his breath when you pull away, blinking out of a stupor, and it seems as though Atsumu has had enough with waiting, for he clears his throat loudly. “Ready to get started?” They both nod. “Good.”

With that said, Atsumu holds on tightly to your hips, hands over Kita’s that stay locked on your flesh, and begins to slowly lift you off of his cock, only to push right back down. Kita groans at the fluttering of your gummy walls around him, head thrown against the pillows while Atsumu increases the speed and pace with which he picks his wife's body up, getting you into a mindblowing rhythm and bouncing you on Kita’s member.

Atsumu certainly dictates the speed and rhythm right now, and the coil in Kita’s gut begins to make a reappearance with every clench of your pussy around him. You’re both at the mercy of Atsumu, who alternates between stealing the air from Kita’s lungs with bringing your hips down hard and fast, or slowly and maddeningly gyrating your hips so that Kita presses against every spot inside of you, massaging that sweet, spongy flesh hidden deep inside that has you gasping out a strange mix of their names and clawing onto Kita’s chest for stability.

“That feel good?” Atsumu asks. He’s met with a chorus of moans and whines from his Lady and his King, but he isn’t satisfied with that. “I said, does that feel good?”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” You gasp, and are rewarded with kisses and nips to your neck by your husband. Dark eyes peer at Kita over your shoulder, demanding an answer from him as well.

“Yes,” the white haired man grunts. “F-Feels so fuck- fucking good.”

“My, my! Our King has a naughty mouth. My sweet, how does his cock feel?”

Your moans are light and breathless when Atsumu rocks your hips back and forth. Your juices stain Kita’s abdomen, and he’s tempted to reach out and swipe some up on his finger to lick. “He feels so big! So so so big, it’s too much, it’s- oh!”

Kita is almost as surprised as you are when Atsumu guides his King’s hand to your swollen folds, showing him how to rub at your clit with practiced motions. You careen in response, hips moving erratically and crying about how good it feels.

“Tell him, not me,” Atsumu laughs.

“Oh, my King, my sweet King, you feel amazing. I love your cock so much, stuffin’ me full, I can’t take it, I love it I love it I love it!”

Your praise, your words, the heat of your cunt; it all goes straight to his head and his heart, and the coil in his gut tightens dangerously, ready to burst his seed into you and fill you up, but Atsumu has your plans before he can reach his peak.

Atsumu lifts your hips up one final time, but doesn't bring them back down. The disappointment in the room is immeasurable, denied a high once more when they were just so close to falling off the edge. Lady Miya whines loudly and impatiently, having been denied her orgasm twice now.

"I know, baby, I know," Atsumu coos, pets your hair and soothes the furrow of your brows. "But I was gettin' a lil lonely over here. I wanna join in."

Your eyes light up in question, staring at him questioningly and obeying when he orders you to bend over. Chest to chest with Kita, the King cradles you closely, brushes loose strands of hair out of your eyes, and allows himself a simple peck to your lips, one that you return with two of your own.

But you jump in shock when Atsumu spreads your cheeks apart and spits loudly onto your rear.

"Atsumu! You...you mean to-"

"Shh. You trust me, don't ya?"

"Always," she answers without hesitation, and the smile he gives you is warm and full of love.

"Then just wait," he rubs a finger over your puckered hole, spreading the spit and watching in fascination how it responds to his touches. He loves your cunt like a drunk loves his wine, but your ass is just as addictive. Really, any part of you is more than enough for him.

You bite your lip when a finger dips in, struggling to accommodate the invasive digit. Kita distracts you with more kisses, hands on your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples and drinking in your moans like he's breathing in the fresh air of the morning.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, watching over your shoulder as Atsumu adds a second finger, pumps them in and out so carefully. The blonde reaches around to lightly toy with your clit - not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you relax and less restrictive. "He's lucky to have married ya."

"Shinsuke," she sighs into his own ears, and it sends shivers down his spine. It's very rare people can address him as Kita without his title, let alone his first name, but it sounds so beautiful coming from the lips of his friends.

"Yer doin' so well," Atsumu praises, free hand massaging the globe of your ass cheek once Kita’s clumsy fingers take over the role of rubbing your nub. "Stretchin' ya out real good. You want both of our cocks, don't ya?"

"I do, I want them so bad-"

"Think you can handle us?"

"Yes, please! God, Tsumu, I wanna be stuffed with both of your cocks-"

"Damn, you get loud when yer needy." Atsumu drags his erection through the folds of your pussy, gathering as much of your juices to coat his dick once again before he lines it up with your back entrance. "We'll take things nice and slow."

It seems as if Atsumu is reassuring more than just his wife with that statement, and Kita is grateful for it.

You bite down on the skin of his shoulder when Atsumu removes his fingers and presses the tip of his dick at your hole. You’re clenching hard and gasping at the stretch, and Kita works with Atsumu to soothe your cries and kiss away your tears.

He kisses your lips when you give a harsh wail as Atsumu presses in further, not even halfway in yet but groaning at how tight it feels. He spits once again where you're both connected while you twitch and sigh as Kita's fingers return to your swollen bud.

"Yer doing amazing, such a good girl," Kita peppers your cheeks with light kisses, and with one last thrust Atsumu is fully seated with his cock in your ass, glassy eyed and chest heaving with tension as he gives the pair of you a moment to adjust.

He bends over to lick and kiss a line up your spine. "Your turn Shinsuke." Kita stalls, wondering for a moment if you really are ready to take them both at once, but Atsumu mistakes his silence for hesitation. "Need help with that?"

Lord Miya reaches down to gently guide Kita towards your sopping hole, and he sucks in a breath as your hips lower agonisingly slow to sink down on him until both of their members are filling you to the brim.

You're a panting and whining mess atop of him, fighting to catch your breath whilst Kita fights to make sense of what he's feeling right now. He can nearly feel Atsumu press against him through a thin layer inside of your pussy, every budge of his hips making his chest tighten at the friction.

"Tell us when to move," your husband says. After a moment of getting used to the stretch with little twitches of your hips, you nod frantically.

"I'm OK, you can move."

"I'll let Kita do the honours," Atsumu smirks.

Lifting his legs higher up the bed for leverage, Kita gives an experimental thrust into your core. It feels so good when you clamp down with a whimper, and so he does it again, and again, until he's set a slow but steady rhythm and enjoys the look of pleasure on your face, the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning too loud but failing miserably.

Gradually becoming more comfortable and succumbing to pleasure, Atsumu begins to move gently, pulling out slowly and pressing back in, so as not to disrupt Kita’s flow but your reaction is immediate, a sharp gasp and a whine for more, arching your back and trying to reach behind to your husband. He leans over to allow you to thread fingers through his hair, and begins to grind faster into you, trying to match Kita’s pace and intensity.

“S-Shit, yer so tight, yer... fuck-” he curses and stutters his hips. “God I love ya- I love ya so much.”

“Please, g-give me m-more!”

“My pretty little slut,” he coos, and you sob into Kita’s chest. “So- fuck, so fuckin’ greedy. You wanna get fucked hard?”

“Gods, yes! I want to be full of your cum, please please please-”

“S-Shit,” he swears, and Kita watches as the careful, calculated look Atsumu kept in his eyes all night suddenly turns wild, frenzied, just about ready to tear you apart like you desired. “You asked for it, pretty girl.” He gives Kita a look. “Ready?”

The King nods. “Ready.”

The blondes' lips curl up at the edges, and you’re only given a moment before both sets of cocks begin ramming into you with such great force that it has you falling on top of Kita, where he wraps his arms around your frame to keep you steady. Words turn into coherent babbles and cries as they piston in and out of you in near perfect unison, and it’s the friction Kita so desperately craved as your wet walls and Atsumu’s shaft rub him so deliciously that his orgasm rears it head once more, building so perfectly and steadily that he feels like he’s reaching Cloud Nine.

Kita unwinds one of his arms from around your waist to reach Atsumu’s ass to give the flesh an affectionate squeeze, causing him to meet Kita’s eyes over your head. Atsumu leans down to capture Kita���s lips in a sloppy kiss, one that’s more tongue and spit and passion than anything else, and the King barely has any second to catch air when he pulls away before your tongue prods at his lips, lips that he opens willingly like heavenly gates. And when Atsumu joins in again, and he feels two messy sets of tongues invade his mouth, one rough and demanding, the other soft and sweet, he can do nothing more than let out a whine and try to keep up with the wonderful sensations taking hold of his body.

He’s given some reprieve when Atsumu pulls back to sit up, grasping at your hips and fucking into you so fast you’re stupefied, mouth hanging open and drooling on Kita’s chest. He doesn’t mind - rather, he doesn’t really notice, too busy focusing on your bouncing tits in front of his eyes, on the occasional brush of Atsumu’s sack on his skin, and the rising coil in his gut, ready to snap at any moment.

Hips jump erratically off the bed when Atsumu rubs at your clit hard and fast, nearly crushing Kita’s cock from how tightly you squeeze the both of them as your husband brings you to your mind shattering end.

“I’m cumming! I’m- I-”

It’s all you’re able to say as your peak washes over you in waves of heat, and he feels your juices gush out on top of his skin as you do so. Fuck, he’s nearly there, so close, just a bit more-

“I’m c-close, I’m so close-” Kita stutters.

“Cum for me,” Atsumu growls, pounding into your ass with abandon while you fall onto Kita’s torso, arms wrapped around his neck and sobbing so pitifully in his ear. “Cum for us, Shinsuke.”

It’s the push he needed. He’s shooting his seed into your core with a strangled shout, pumping load after load right into you while Atsumu follows, unloading into your ass with a curse and a moan of your name, going balls deep and spilling all that he has while your walls milk them for all that they have.

Atsumu collapses on top of both of you with a tired sigh, and while Kita’s body protests at the added weight, his mouth can’t quite catch up with his brain at the moment, so he simply lays there as the heat of the room falls over all of you like a blanket.

Both cocks begin to soften inside of you. Ever so gently, they pull out, seed escaping your holes and dripping slowly onto the sheets as you whine at the loss and clench around nothing, feeling so terribly empty and almost wishing they had stayed inside of you. But it gives you an opportunity to rest, and Atsumu flips you on your side until he’s laying you down on the bed, littering kisses all over your body and singing praises about how well you did for them, how much of a good girl you are.

You smile sleepily, exhaustion overtaking your limbs, and Kita can only cup your face and rub his thumbs on your cheekbones, uncertain if kissing you would be crossing a line now that the deed has been done. You arch into his touch while Atsumu leaves to get a cloth.

“Was that ok for you, my King?”

Ah. Of course you would put him above yourself. He smiles warmly at that.

“That was wonderful. You were perfect,” he answers honestly, and you practically glow with pride at his words. When Atsumu returns, Kita takes the cloth, opting to be the one to clean the mess between your legs. It’s the least he could do after all that they’ve done for him.

It grows silent once he finishes, looking over to see Atsumu holding you close from behind. Your eyelids are drooping and your eyes grow hazy with every kiss and rub Atsumu gives to you, yet when Kita is about to excuse himself, to find solitude in a bath and let the married couple have his bedchambers for the night, you reach out to him, wanting to hold him, his face, to bring it close to you and trap him for the night.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to…” he trails off with uncertainty. Atsumu snorts, offering him a kind and warm smile.

“The Lady always gets what she wants,” he jokes, and Kita lets out a fond laugh. “Besides - yer the King.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he replies. And he means it. But his heart begs for the opposite, for you to not let him go and let him rest his head on your heart.

It seems as though you hear his thoughts.

“I want you to stay,” you murmur, sleepy but resolute in your words. “Do you want to stay?”

His eyes flicker back and forth between husband and wife. He could leave. He could end things right here, pretend like tonight never happened and go on existing as King like he always has. Things would become too complicated if he stayed. He knows this. And yet…

“I do,” he whispers, and curls into the warmth of your chest while Atsumu rubs at his hair with a fondness not common in him. Kita feels, for once in his life, at home. No castle too big and warm can ever compare to this. “I do want to stay.”

“Well then,” Atsumu says warmly, while you finish his sentence.

“Stay.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kita x reader #kita scenarios #kita imagines #kita smut #kita shinsuke #atsumu smut #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #kita x atsumu #hq smut #hq fluff

[hotchscvm]

best friend’s daddy - part three

Warnings: dark!andy barber, language, mentions of age difference, mentions of sex, underage drinking, pregnancy

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: A series of snapshots with your past and current life with Andy Barber.

[highly requested—and i mean highly]

masterlist

Newton, MA - 2017 Homecoming Game

He saw you immediately, shamelessly staring at the bright, yet fake smile slapped on your face as you posed for the picture. Andy's eyes drifted to the football players arms around your waist, too far down for the assistant district attorney's liking, not that he could do anything about it. He was unable to contain the eye roll when one of the players pressed a quick kiss on your cheek while you looked at the camera.

Andy knew he had no right feeling that way. He knew you thought he hated you. The glares, the tone he used, the disapproval glances he gave Jacob whenever you were with him. It was enough evidence for you to think he didn't want you around. He didn't. But not for the same reasons as you think.

Jacob ran past him, pulling you into a hug as the players around you ran back to their pre-game huddle, hyping themselves up. He heard your laugh, his previous annoyance washing away as he listened, wishing he didn't have to keep up his act. Instead, he watched from afar, noticing the fake smile replaced by a genuine one as you hugged your best friend, your cheer skirt rising before dropping back to it's already short length as soon as Jacob let you go.

Like the years before, Laurie didn't come to the homecoming game, claiming she was far too busy with work but Andy wasn't dumb. He could see it in her face everyday, helplessly watching his wife distance herself from him. But he couldn't blame her; he was doing the same. After all, not everything is supposed to last forever.

He secretly admired you, silently praising your will to pursue the career you wanted despite the very many attempts, and lectures from your parents about becoming a lawyer. Andy had gotten calls from them, more than happy to show you around the building with your parents hope of you magically being interested in what they had planned. But you were stubborn, and you hadn't backed down. He was impressed.

You glanced at Andy, surprised he wasn't glaring at you but rather staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place, and you quickly diverted your eyes back to Jacob. "I'm so glad you came! Thank you for not being a total nerd tonight."

"My dad practically dragged me out of the house, grumbling about how I had to support my best friend when she's on the cheerleading team." Jacob explained, motioning to his father, the older Barber climbing the stairs as he claimed a spot on the bleachers next to your father. "I think it was just an excuse to watch a game that didn't feature the Patriots."

Once again, you were surprised. As said before, you thought he didn't care for your presence; to hear he wanted his son to support you was surprisingly shocking no matter how small it was. "Oh. Looks like he and Dad are gossiping again. Your mom didn't come?"

"No, she had work. What about yours?" asked Jacob.

"Business trip." you answered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. You saw the Instagram posts her friends posted, the so-called business trip had turned into a vacation with the girls. You heard your name being yelled, your cheer squad waving you over. Turning back to Jacob, you smiled. "They're calling me over so I gotta go. I'll find you after halftime, okay? We can ditch."

Jacob arched a brow, the corner of his lips twitching up. "But you're head cheerleader. Aren't you supposed to stay for the whole game?"

"Nah, Leila can take over after halftime. I'll just make up an excuse and say I went off with a guy or something." you said, tightening your ponytail. "Oh, and don't use the last stall in the boy's bathroom. Pretty sure someone had sex in that."

"Pretty sure that someone was you." he replied, grinning as you flipped him off. He laughed when you nearly ran into toddler, apologizing to the little person before running to the squad.

Jacob joined Andy and your father, answering questions from your dad, and listening to the two fathers talk about the mundane life as the game started. Andy's vision kept drifting off to you, cheering on the sidelines as the game, accidentally missing parts of the game. Not that he minded to much, he had a nice view, and he knew the score. It wasn't that much of an inconvenience for him.

Before halftime, you snuck away, going into the school to grab another hair tie from your locker. Thankfully, the field was close to the west side of the school, the locker bay only a short walk from the entrance. Coincidentally, just as you walked towards the bathroom with the hair tie, Andy bumped into you, the phone in his hand dropping to the floor.

"Oh, shit." you cursed, quickly bending down, grabbing the phone and handing it back to your best friend's dad. "Sorry, Mr. Barber, I wasn't looking."

Andy sighed, studying his phone instead of giving into the urge to comfort your tense state. For the millionth time, he wished he didn't have to act like a dick to you. "It's fine. Just watch where your going or you might head into the mens' room."

Not knowing whether he was serious or not, you gave an awkward nod, walking pass him. You hadn't seen the lingering glance he gave you before walking back to the game. Pushing on the bathroom door, you let yourself drown in your jitters, hyping yourself up before coming back and performing.

You had forgotten about Andy by the time you returned.

—

Newton, MA - May 14, 2018

Andy heard the knock, getting out of his seat to unlock the door. A presence befall him, a feeling he only got when you were nearby. With that thought, he immediately opened the door, greeted by the sight of you soaking from the rainfall, shivering, eyes slightly swollen, and downright miserable.

He called out your name in surprise, shocked to see you in such a messy state, let alone see you in his office. "What happened? Come in, come in. Are you okay?"

"Sorry, I—" you shivered, biting your lip to keep from spilling every problem you had faced on him. "It was raining so hard that I had to stop so I wouldn't crash or anything. And this was the closest building I parked to. I ran inside but I guess it didn't make any difference seeing how soaked I am."

Andy wrapped his jacket around your shoulders, unable to find a stray blanket or anything warm to give you. He led you to the leather couch, softly pushing you down to sit on it. "Come here, sit down. Did school end early?"

"No, um, I skipped." you sniffed, sinking down on the leather, letting Andy's coat fall over your shoulders. "I had a fight with my mom. A big one. So, I didn't exactly feel that great to come to school and I've been driving around since eight."

"Sweetheart, you're soaked. You're going to get sick." Andy murmured, wiping his warm hand over your forehead, the little droplets of water wetting his hand. "I have some clean clothes in my gym bag. Tell me what you were fighting about, it might make you feel better."

You watched him grab his duffel bag from under his desk, opening your mouth to protest but the cold, wet clothes made you close it. "I made some backhand comment about having a job in fashion, then she just blew up. She wants me to be a lawyer, go to the best schools, and be successful even if I'm not happy. I told her to fuck off, yelling that I'll do what I want. She didn't like that answer, so I grabbed my keys and drove around."

Andy gave you his Patriots shirt, and a clean pair of sweats, taking his wet jacket from you. You whispered a thank you, before taking off your dripping shirt, not caring Andy was watching. He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes away from your half-naked body. "Well, what did you want to be? What do you want to do after school?"

"I don't really know, except for the fact that I don't want to be a lawyer, that's for sure." you replied, putting on the sweatpants Andy gave you, relishing in the warmth. "I'm sorry for getting your couch wet, I—"

"It's okay, don't worry about it, sweetheart. Are you okay, now? Do you want me to do something about it?" Andy asked, unsure to hug you so he settled for an awkward pat on your shoulder, moving closer to you.

You scoffed, fidgeting with the hem of the large Patriots t-shirt, rolling your eyes at the question. "Trust me, there's nothing you could do about it. They're both so persistent on me being this successful lawyer that it doesn't matter if I want to be one. Tell me, Mr. Barber, what's so fucking great about being one?"

He bit back a smile, shifting on the couch until he was touching you, the serotonin you gave him encouraged Andy to brush back your dripping hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, and a slight frown, you meet his eyes. "Well, firstly, you're able to help people. In layman's terms, you either can defend a client, or prosecute a criminal. Putting the bad guys away. Um, you can meet new people, have some experiences that's unlikely for others. But, you're right. You shouldn't have to do what you're parents have planned for you."

"Try telling them that." you sniffled, goosebumps appearing on your arms, subconsciously leaning your cheek on Andy's hand. He heard the angelic sigh escape from your lips, his smile appearing. "Thank you for the clothes and everything Mr. Barber."

"Don't mention it." he replied, bravely wrapping his arms around your slightly shivering body. Andy felt you tense for a few moments before slowly relaxing, shifting so he could rest his chin on your head, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your back. After a few minutes of silence, Andy reluctantly broke the silence. "Would you like me to call Jacob?"

He saw the flash of hurt in your eyes before you composed your expression, nodding slowly as you pulled away. "Yeah, I'll call him. He has free period so he won't be missing anything, I promise. Sorry for keeping you from work, Mr. Barber."

Andy shook his head, helping you up from the couch. "No, no, no. I just had some papers to go through, you didn't keep me from anything. The rain is slowing but you can stay in here until Jake comes. If you want."

You nodded, giving him a weak smile. "Thank you."

—

The Barber House - June 1, 2018

Giggling uncontrollably, you leaned against Jacob, a bottle of beer in your hand. Jacob laughed over the cartoon character with you, throwing his head back at the ridiculous scene on screen. Scooby had just stared at the screen, ending the episode, the screen turning black before another episode started. The noise Scooby made just had you and Jacob in another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

The sleepover had been spontaneous, yet long way overdue. In less than a week, you'd have graduated, and moved out of Boston, living in New York City as you went to the same college. That was one of the upside of finally leaving Newton, but even with the continuous nagging from your parents, you were still going to miss them.

You had been extra quiet, knowing full well Andy was stressed for something Laurie had done, the wife walking out of the house just as you had pulled up on the driveway. She had given you a friendly greeting, asking questions about graduation, before hugging you and driving away in her car. You knew it was bad as soon as you entered the house, seeing Andy glaring at the kitchen counter as you waited for Jacob to come save you. Thankfully, you didn't have to make small talk with the lawyer.

But the his tense expression was enough to keep you quiet in Jacob's room. Well, until he turned up with beers he had gotten from a mutual friend of yours, Cory Gilbert, the bartender at the bar and grill you and Jacob frequented at. He was over 21, legally able to buy the beer, giving it to Jacob as a present for graduation. Cory had given you a nice bottle of brandy, but you had decided to save it for graduation night instead.

Getting drunk hadn't been hard, for Jacob anyways; it took more than a few pleads from your already drunk friend to convince you to drink with him. Once you did, you felt the liquid slightly burn down your throat and you greeted the giddy feeling it left you. Soon, you were found leaning against Jacob's bed, sitting on the floor as the both of you cackled at the animations playing on the screen.

Andy still hadn't came up to hush the both of you; and to be honest, you weren't sure to be relieved or disappointed. You settled for relieved once as you saw Scooby and Shaggy running away from a "monster."

It was half past ten when you finally got up from your spot on the floor, leaving Jacob to drunkenly slur at his phone while the tv played in the background. Getting up, you headed to the bathroom, careful not to make anymore sounds than you already had. You were too drunk to notice Andy standing outside his door, arms crossed as he amusingly stared at your little tip-toe walk to the bathroom.

You finished your business, washing your hands, and heading back to Jacob's room when you lost your footing and stumbled into Andy's arms. You yelped in alarm, glad for the muscular arms that caught you. Looking up, you saw what your drunk brain could only describe as Adonis. You smiled, patting his pec as you slurred. "Thank you, Mr. Barber."

"How drunk are you, sweetheart?" Andy asked, not letting you go. He felt you swaying slightly in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest until your face was only a couple of inches away from his. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue licking his own. "You look flushed."

Giggling, you couldn't help but grin at the human contact. You had been so sure he hated you, but from your current position, your assumption seemed silly. "You're making me blush. Me and Jacob haven't been drank—drinking that much, pinky swear."

He snickered at the tiny slip up with your grammar, the slowness and laziness in your voice evidence enough if it hadn't been for the burst of confidence, and shouts from Jacob's room. "You shouldn't be lying, especially to a lawyer. Let's get you sobered up, wouldn't want you waking up with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow, now would we?"

Andy places a hand on your back, his hand intertwining with yours as he tried to lead you downstairs safely but you halted in the middle of the hallway, laughing as you sneaked behind him. You tapped his shoulder, trying to push him down. "Gimme a piggy back ride, Mr. Barber. Like the ones you gave me when I was four!"

The lawyer burst out laughing, finding your drunk confidence adorable. He couldn't help but agree, squatting down enough for you to climb onto his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, your arms locking around his neck. Andy held your legs in place with his hands, shifting you upwards so you rested comfortably on his back. Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow. "You ready, princess?"

You nodded in response, your hair ticking his neck as you snuggled closer to his neck, nuzzling your cheek. All the alcohol had rushed to your head. Andy walked down the stairs, careful to keep his grip on you as he did so. He heard all the tiny giggles and gasps you made, his bad mood dissolving with each sound. He couldn't remember a time Laurie had made him that happy.

Reaching the kitchen, Andy sat you down on the kitchen island, reluctantly letting you go as he went to grab a glass of water. He gave you the glass, but you rejected it, too busy looking at the game on the tv, seeing past the arch and into the living room.

He set the glass on the counter, leaning against it as he crossed his arms, staring at the mesmerized—and drunk—girl in admiration. You turned your attention back on him as soon as the commercials rolled, catching him ogling you. Blushing, you giggled once again, waving him over.

Curious, Andy stepped towards you, surprised when you gripped the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer to you until he was only a couple of inches away. Leaning in, you whispered in his ear. "I have a secret."

"What is it?" Andy asked, one word away from kissing his son's best friend. The tension radiating from interaction had him weak, helpless from the very tempting chance to take you right there and then.

Cupping your hand around your lips, you felt him snake between your legs, bringing you even closer. With your lips near his ear, you whispered, "I have the biggest crush on you. Sometimes I wish you were single so I could ride you until I physically can't."

Andy growled, his hands digging into your waist as his lips hovered over yours, his blue eyes piercing yours. He murmured your name, so close to losing all of his control.

"Every time I come over, I hope you'd push me against a wall, rip my shirt off and fuck a baby in me." you confessed, loving his body warmth. His grip had tighten on you to the point it was borderline painful, but you relished in it, the alcohol numbing the rational thoughts in your head as they screamed at you to shut up.

The lawyer was so close to doing what you wanted, nearly taking you right there. But much to his dismay, his morals had held him back; surely all it would take would be another sentence murmured from your lips but he considered himself strong. "Sweetheart..."

Just as Andy's lips brushed over yours, loud, heavy footsteps made him pull away, spotting his son drunkenly enter the kitchen. You smiled brightly at Jacob as if you hadn't been about to kiss his father. Andy raised an eyebrow at his son, irritated for interrupting. "Jacob, what're you doing?"

"I—" the boy frowned, forgetting momentarily on what he was doing. Jacob pointed at you, returning a random wave. "I was looking for her, because I got worried she fell in the toilet or something."

"She's fine, I was just sobering her up." Andy answered before you could, reluctantly helping you off the table, wishing he had a few more minutes alone with you. "Don't let your mom see all those bottles when she gets home. She won't be lenient as I am."

Jacob saluted in response, watching his dad help his best friend off the table. He was too drunk to notice the longing looks you had exchanged with Andy. "Okay, dad. Night."

Andy stood in the kitchen, alone, watching his girl giggle at something his son whispered. With more confidence than ever, he pulled out the manila envelope from the kitchen drawer, placing it on the table. Laurie would find it when she comes back.

—

Newton, MA - July 4, 2021

"You're so fat." Jacob commented, eyes widening when he felt the baby kick. Without much thought, he invaded your personal space, placing his cheek against your stomach. You sighed, rolling your eyes at your best friend. Jacob chuckled. "This little guy is gonna be a soccer superstar. Like Cristiano Ronaldo."

Andy chuckled from the driver's seat, pulling into the driveway, pulling Jacob off your stomach and back to his seat. "Don't antagonize her, Jake. She might rip your head off for breathing the same air without her permission."

Childishly, you stuck your tongue, making your baby daddy burst out laughing before as he turned off the car and opened the door. But you could hardly say his comment was an exaggeration, grimacing at the memory of nearly snapping Andy's arm off when he had forgotten the almond milk from the weekly visits to the grocery store. It had been both a blessing and curse to have Jacob in the outs of the pregnancy when that incident occurred. You hadn't wanted him to see the growing bump.

With the help of both Barbers, you got out of the car, carefully and slowly for the sake for both you and the babies. The two were chatting as they unloaded the baggage from trunk while you made your way to the house, reminiscing in the days when Jacob's glances weren't filled with betrayal, as if you had ripped his heart from his chest.

It wasn't everyday he looked at you with that raw emotion in his eyes—the betrayed looks had started to decrease the more time you spent together—yet you still felt guilty. With a hand over your growing belly, you opened the door, bombarded with memories from childhood, once again reminding you who you were having a baby with.

Once Jacob had sprinted out of the room, in anger and denial after seeing his father tangled in bed with his best friend, you had pushed Andy off you, wanting to go after him. When Andy argued it was better off for Jacob to be alone, you had blamed him for everything, for ruining the lifelong friendship with Jacob and weeks of stress caused by sleeping with him the first time. The lawyer hadn't denied the guilt or blame like you thought he would—like you wished he would—instead drowning in the insults you threw his way.

You didn't start to forgive him until Jacob came back, but then loathed him after the your best friend announced he needed some time and space to think it out, uncertain which conclusion he would come to. Thankfully, he couldn't live without you in his life, no matter how hard he tried, so he came running back, wishing for an apology when all you wanted to do was cry and wish you didn't have to spend two months without him.

Andy, like the charming bastard he is, had slowly broke down the wall of bricks made from your anger and hatred, and unwillingly, you let him in. Jacob had explained, quite awkwardly, he should be in no way a problem to yours and Andy's relationship, only to be slapped by the pregnancy news. Surprisingly, he kept it light and took it well.

Unsurprisingly to Andy, the fetus (he had been very upset when you occasionally called the baby that) had been conceived on Thanksgiving, proving the plan B useless. You had given up any pretenses at that point, and gave in to Andy's precautions no matter how ridiculous they had been; safety for the fetus.

Your parents had been content with the excuses you've made, only a little suspicious on not wanting to see them during the months of carrying the baby. The baby boy to be precise. But the lack of visiting since college was consistent enough for them to not rise suspicions.

You settled down on the couch, exhausted by the road trip despite how short it was. Newton was hardly small, but with Andy's former title, it wouldn't be long before rumors spread, and with rumors came exaggerated stories along with middle-aged women judging your life decisions because they had nothing to do all day other than sit in their lazy asses.

Andy and Jacob set the bags down by the doorway, Jacob letting out a huge sigh while his dad walked over to you, kissing your forehead. You couldn't help but smile at the gesture. He sat beside you, leaving no room to breathe.

"Hello, gorgeous."

"Ugh." Jacob groaned, turning his eyes away from the PDA. "Okay, I'm gonna go before any more of this happens. I'll see you guys for dinner."

Before you could ask, Jacob closed the door, practically sprinting to his car. Seeing his father in bed with his best friend had scarred him. You turned your attention back to Andy, head tilting in confusion. "Where's he going?"

"He's giving me some alone time with you. Had to pay him a few bucks after he complained about stealing you, but he'll manage for the next couple of hours." Andy explained, his hands absentmindedly stroking your belly, his smile beaming.

"What's happening in the next couple of hours that he can't be here for?" you asked, curious. The blast of hormones had been a gift Andy knew he didn't deserve, with you crawling over his body in the earlier months of the pregnancy, waking him up with lips wrapped around his cock. With his precautions for the baby, he'd been a tease for the past few weeks with the due date just barely two months away.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in amusement. "It's not that, sweetheart." Andy chuckled at your pout, disappointed by the outcome. "I just wanted to spend some time with you."

You knew there was something more, but you let it go, one thing at the front of your mind. Your fingers clawed at his shirt, biting your lip. "Then let's spend some time together." Leaning closer, you softly nipped at his earlobe, whispering in his ear. "Daddy."

Andy murmured your name, stern and sure but the bulge in his pants deemed a different story. That was enough for you to stop seducing him. "You're going to be the death of me."

Laughing, you turned the tv on, cuddling next to the soft man. Well, as close to cuddling as you could with the belly in the way. Your feet had been sore despite the not having to walk much all day, but the road trip had taken a lot of your already drained energy. Andy understood, gently taking off your shoes and massaging your feet until they no longer felt sore.

Two hours were wasted watching true crimes documentaries, Andy passionately commenting on the evidence they clearly had missed, and voicing his opinions of who was clearly guilty. You muffled a giggle, amused by the former lawyer. It still surprised you to see Andy so ... light? The forehead creases only coming together when something had displeased you, no matter how tiny. Retiring must've done something to relieve the stress he carried.

It wasn't until the third Buzzfeed Unsolved episode came on that you got tired. Andy, sending the change, muted the screen, pressing a soft kiss on your close eyelids. He positioned you so you were leaning against him, your back to him as you laid on the couch, a hand over your growing stomach. Anxiety seeped through his veins.

Andy cleared his throat. Playing with your hair, he said, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open, growing wide as you pondered if you had heard him right. "What?"

He shrugged. "Marry me."

Andy had said if so casually, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Or more accurately, a demand. You turned around, putting space between you two. Your eyes were hurting from the lack of blinking. "What?"

He reached in his pocket, the small, velvet box that had rested uncomfortably in his pocket took your breath away. Andy opened the box, revealing a diamond, far too beautiful to look at. His smile widened, taking in your shocked expression. "Please marry me."

A minute of silence passed.

"You're fucking insane." you whispered, staring intently at his blue eyes who were sparkling in excitement. He knew the outcome.

Andy's smile hadn't wavered. "Is that a yes?"

"No!" you shouted, getting up from the cough. He stood up, his arms ready to catch your unbalanced body. You glared at him. "I'm not going to marry you because I'm pregnant! No! No, no, no. I forbid you to ask me that question until this baby is out of me."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist. "So, when I ask in two months ... ?"

"You'll just have to see." you murmured. A smug smirk fell on his face, but this one was warmer, more heartfelt.

"You'll say yes."

You shrugged, but couldn't help the smile appearing. "Probably."

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#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #dub con #dark!andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #pregnancy #mentions of dubious element #under age #defending jacob #jacob barber #laurie barber #andy barber fanfiction

[gemma-collins-ily]

Hello, I wanted to ask for a request with Jesper? I wanted to see him being very protective of the reader. Maybe he saves her from a fight during a job or something (like, she can handle herself just fine but ended up getting trapped by a lot of guards idk) and he comes and shoots them at last minute and is very worried because she did got hurt. Then later she can be all like "it's nothing, I'm fine" but he insists on patching her up and caring for her wounds (maybe make it a soft moment with him being all gentle and lovey with her), kinda blaming himself for her getting hurt, and maybe then confessions are made? Thank you :D

Fools In Love

a/n - yessss more Jesper appreciation! He needs more credit! It sounds a bit creepy in the beginning I'm sorry 😭 Also Jesper and the pet name lovely ugh my heart! Thanks for the request xoxo💕♥️

Warnings: knives, blood, alcohol (used for cleaning of injuries), brief mentions of nausea and not sure what else!

Partners.

That's all you were. That's what Jesper kept telling himself, at least.

But it was so strange with you - he felt so strange with you. Like he should protect you, admire you, love you, care for you whenever he could.

He felt you should always be in his heart, and you were. Some part of him, yet every part of him, was saved for you.

On the days he was truly tired, had run errand after errand, participated in a heist, anything that exhausted him, he would save just a simple smile or two for you.

Because he felt he couldn't, and shouldn't, leave you without one. He needed you to be in his life and wanted you to need him too. He wanted you to rely on the him as he would you, and most importantly, deeply desired that you could love him the way he did you.

This was not in a warped version of reality, a figment of his mind and imagination as a sick, manipulative goal, he only wanted to be loved.

By someone. Alright, anyone. Any person. Admittedly, one specific person.

He wanted to be loved by you.

Jesper knew he did, in fact, love you. And when he realised, his heart had raced, Nina looking up in alarm before seeing the lovestruck bliss upon his face.

Jesper Fahey was in love with you.

And boy, was he in trouble now.

Chaos.

You were extremely similar to Jesper in that way: the way that meant it followed you wherever you went. There was no escaping the chaos, not when you were apparently born from the very depths of it yourself and had a friend quite the same.

A friend.

That's all you were.

It sent a pang of agony rippling through your chest, possibly enough to send you to your knees, but you swiftly shook the thought away.

Focus was what was needed.

Although, it seemed so tempting to think of him, to picture his face in your mind's eye one last time. One last time before you died.

Because it had been going well. But later, there was a high chance of fatality. But, you decided to do what you did best, instead of giving into the niggling voices that told you to remember every brush of the arm, every smile across a room, every chair he pulled out for you; instead, you decided to give into something else.

You decided, to give in to the chaos.

Your strategy was giving fairly good results, just as you had anticipated, considering it always did. Going with your gut seemed to be the best way of going about it, and it was.

Until it wasn't.

Since you were now improvising and no one appeared to be taking any notice of the shots fired, or grunts of pain heard, when even more men than previously swarmed the alley, you were taken aback.

You had not predicted how much effort the rival gang you were on a heist against would gamble on you, sending out what seemed to be the majority of their forces for just one person.

You supposed that meant whatever Kaz had up his sleeve would work fairly easily now though, the level of guard lowered and their numbers dilapidated.

He better thank me later.

Just as you flipped a man over your back, quickly and efficiently leaning down over him, your shadow looming as your hand reached for your knife that was meant to be in your belt.

"Looking for this?"

You gasped and your eyes boggled as your dagger, that the man beneath you had obviously stolen, plunged into your side, the hilt far from buried in your torso as you recovered from the shock as soon as you could find it in your abilities to.

Another knife was ripped out of a corpse beside you and burrowed in his chest, right above his heart, before he could register what was taking place.

You stood, groaning as you clasped the sore flesh surrounding your wound, not yet having pulled out the weapon to prevent further blood loss.

You spun to face the remaining gang members behind you, grimacing as you felt the bile slip upward in your throat, stubbornly rising no matter how many times you swallowed.

Now you had nothing. Nothing to defend yourself with and nothing to help you in this fight. Nothing and no one.

Dying alone was a nauseating fear, circling through your head and running rampage, sending you into a frenzied panic.

Your back hit the wall, the skin burning as it was grazed against the bricks and your heart racing as you failed to bend to the side, only a grunt sounding from your throat as your hand pressed further against your abdomen.

In that moment, you closed your eyes and prayed. Simply prayed to the Saints you had once ridiculed with Kaz, hoping there was a chance, if even just a miniscule one, that you could be saved.

And maybe Inej had been right all along, that you owed her an overdue apology, because maybe, just maybe, Saints did exist.

And perhaps, Jesper Fahey was yours.

He came barrelling around the corner, your eyes clenched tightly shut as you heard gunshots ring out, believing that moment could be your end, that heist your undoing.

But no, because when you peered through your lashes, swaying precariously on your feet, he was there.

You gaped in shock, confusion and finally, joy. You wanted to jump into his arms, tell him of your gratefulness, all because he hadn't left you alone.

Dying was no incredible feat: it happened in Ketterdam everyday, bodies piled in corners and rotting in the dank, narrow streets. To die with no one to close your eyes, only being forced to gaze glassily into the deep grey sky, or no friend to comfort you in your last seconds or less, even, seemed terrifying.

Although, now you wouldn't have to worry about that. Because he was here.

Jesper rushed to you, nimbly leaping over corpses and stepping around barrels or other obstructions, eyes full of concern that only grew when his line of sight landed upon your side.

You could only weakly smile as his arm was slung over your shoulders and his other was suddenly dipping below your upper leg.

"Jes, I don't need picking up!"

"Hmm... I beg to differ, darling. So do your knees apparently."

That was when you realised just how they had buckled and how much of your weight you were making him support. You sighed and gave a sheepish yet irked nod, giving consent to let him swoop you off your feet, and he did so without hesitance after he observed your approval.

He traipsed through the streets, using his knowledge of shady back alleys to keep away from crowds and even if he had swaggered down the main street, no one would have batted an eye.

Or offered help. Ketterdam was not the place for helpful neighbors or friendly coworkers, and often the inhabitants were cruel, selfish and overall generally appeared to be disappointed with their whole lives.

Go figure.

The capital of Kerch was not an actual hospitable place, but some little nooks and crannies could just squeeze you into a sort of community. You had once known a baker that had given you free whole loafs of bread, shaking you off when you tried to pay.

Your palm was still positioned flat over your wound, digging in uncomfortably and your fingers splayed slightly in the air. You didn't dare move it, not making a sound either, only letting soft whines out when Jesper shifted you in his arms, to which he would respond with an apologetic gaze, no words said.

The scratch was not life threateningly deep, just shocking, and well, frightening; it reminded you anything could happen, just one simple change of plan could kill you.

It mortalised you in a way, made you think of how easily it could all be over. Sometimes, galavanting off with the Crows, searching giddily for trinkets with Nina and Jes made you feel as though you could do anything, stay in that moment forever.

But you were human. And right then, you had a knife in your side. Maybe it would have been better to pull it out, considering now every jostle sourced from your friend's sharp steps, heels tapping forcefully on the stones, could possibly send the dagger closer to your ribcage or organs.

"Jes."

"Yes, love?"

"Pull it. Please."

It was a beg for help, and a desperate one after he had only glanced down at you as he continued walking when answering to his name.

He did as you asked, laying you down to the side for a moment. He always had, providing whatever you needed and doing what you thought was best when it came to you.

"Ready? It'll hurt, lovely."

"You're making me more stressed, just do it already!"

It was true. You had broken a sweat as he had been trying to prepare you, beads of perspiration forming on your hairline.

If you had expected another warning, he certainly surprised you by wrenching the mini sword out of your side without anything else said. You cried out, gasping like a fish out of water and feeling just so, the crusting of the aging blood aiding that.

"I know, I know. Just give me a sec, okay? It'll be fine."

Jesper continued to mutter reassurances as he wrapped your scarf around your lower back and torso. The hardest part was when you had to lift your hips and rotate your body slightly so his slender fingers could grasp the other end of the garment to tie it together fully.

"I know. It's okay, yeah? It's fine."

He was in now way immature but his voice was definitely becoming higher and squeakier in fear: the tell tale lurching of his stomach appeared as he accidentally took a glance at the deep crimson blossoming over the scarf and staining his hands, managing to seep into the creases of his palms, depositing itself under his previously pristine nails and cuticles.

You could tell he was worried as he picked you up once more, yelping out a 'sorry' when his wrist brushed your blazing, sensitive flesh.

It was a troublesome trip to return to the Slat, Jesper aggravating the cut when he shifted to prevent you from slipping downward.

Once you were there however, you were adamant you could treat your injuries yourself, only really having a few minor scrapes and bruises, especially a sort of natural eyeshadow in the form of a black eye that had not fully appeared, yet was still already prominent.

You practically tumbled out of Jesper's arms, limping up the stairs to your room while the Zemeni followed closely behind you, a hand on the small of your back to support you while you found your balance, ticklish tingles spreading from the spot his fingertips made contact with your shoulder blades.

"Jes, I really don't need help, like, at all. Just let me-"

You were cut off as he pulled the alcohol out of your grasp, grinning in that charming way only he could pull off, only serving to irritate you further as he winked.

"Sure you don't. It's just that I can help. And I will, alright? I don't care if you don't agree, it's happening."

With that, the scarf was gently pulled from your skin, a hiss drawn from you as the rag he had tipped the alcohol onto touched your side. You forced yourself to control a flinch, only shying away a little as his unoccupied hand came absentmindedly and immediately to your unharmed side, pushing you back to have the cloth back on your skin, scooting you along the desk you were perched on.

"Just a bit more. I promise, darling."

You nodded, gritting your teeth against the pain until it subsided, choosing to focus on the warm and calloused hand resting on your other side, not yet removed.

"Alright, now it's only the little things."

Your mouth opened to protest, explain you could easily do that yourself, but Jesper only tutted under his breath and used two fingers to close your jaw and tilt your head simultaneously to observe the shiner decorating your eye.

"None of that. Now, all we've got is this, which I can't do much about, and that nasty gash on your arm."

He didn't think about what he was doing, how casually and carefully he was caring for you, as though you were a china doll, porcelain and fractured, broken with any move that was not delicate.

You didn't think about how much you enjoyed someone looking after you for once, taking such a chunk of his time to simply stand between your legs and help.

Suddenly, as you pouted and your bottom lip was drawn between your teeth, withholding a groan while he cleansed your upper forearm, his thumb came up to untuck your lip, barely ghosting over it, although the feeling was still so delicious. Tantalising.

And his arm dropped, cloth soaked with a random drink dropping to the rug as his gaze stayed on your lips. And he leant in, as did you, finally sharing a sweet kiss, tender and loving, all things beautiful and wondrous.

His stare burned into the floor as it drew downward, a murmur heard drifting through the air a few seconds later, "You know, I was so worried about you?" You moved to speak before he hushed you, "No, just let me... I'm saying, I was more concerned than a friend probably should have been. Maybe, I mean I don't know. Actually nevermind..."

But he never had a chance to finish as his locks of chocolate brown were swept away from his forehead, a kiss planted there in replacement.

"I'd love to go out with you, Jes, love. Or, I mean, whatever you want to do..."

Chuckles filled the room pleasantly as you both laughed together, cheeks flushed and lips almost swollen, at your embarrassment and haplessness, plus the lack of tact.

You supposed you were just fools in love. And in that moment, you wanted to be suspended there, floating forever.

With him.

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x you #jesper fahey x y/n #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey fluff #jesper fahey fics #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine

[sugar-sweets-fanfic]

Zemo x Wife!Reader

Word count - 1,694

Warning! - (NO MINORS ALLOWED) 18+ content, some daddy kink, dom!fem, no protection, rough sex, light hand job, praises

Author's note - Sorry I didn't proof read so if there is any typos I apologize!

Prompt - You have been married to Zemo before he was locked up. His butler informed you he was out of prison. So you find out where he is and come knocking on his window. Wanting to spend your minimal time importantly. 🤣

Knock Knock Knock

Zemo had just got out of the shower. Tying his robe as he heard the peculiar noise. Wondering over to his window and quickly noticed you peeking through. His eyes widen and his lips curl to a smile. Swiftly, he unlocked the window and pulled it open.

"My darling..!" You happily cry out. Jumping into his arms. Hugging him tightly, never wanting to let go. It hurt to not see him for years. You miss him, especially his wonderful scent.

Zemo chuckled, "shhh, you must be quiet, my love." His hands slide up your back. His lips connect to the top of your head. Giving you a nice squeeze before letting go of you. Pulling back to take you all in. He hadn't seen you in years. Though all the memories of you flooded back. You looked angelic to him.

Your cheeks fill with pink pigment. Looking away shyly, you brush some hair behind your ear. "What? Do I look different? Is it bad?" You ask in an insecure manner. Hoping to not displease him. Suddenly you are pushed to look back at him. Catching his random outburst of chuckles.

"You look stunning, sweetheart." Zemo uttered out. Soon shutting the window and closing the curtains. He strolls over to the door and locks it. "I've been very lonesome. I'm afraid I may not be free much longer, my kitten."

You give him a worrisome look. That's definitely what you didn't want to hear. Instantly, you grab a hold of one of his hands. Bringing it up to your lips. Giving a tender Peck to the back of his hand. Soon holding it up to your cheek. Caressing his hand against the side of your face. "Don't say that. We will think of something to do. I promise, I won't let them separate us again." Your tone had a subtle shaky-ness to it.

Zemo sighed softly at your affections. They felt so warm and just reminded him of better times. "No, you mustn't stress over the inevitable. I know these moments will end with me behind bars again. It's too good to be true." He explains in a gentle tone. More gentle than he usually ever sounds. Which makes what he says all too real.

You feel his thumb rub your cheek. Closing your eyes in a relaxed fashion. "Then let me make these moments unforgettable, my world." You, in a way, beg. Wanting desperately to make it all last while. At least he would have these hours to think about. So he wouldn't just have so much pain to think about in a cold prison.

Zemo shifted his hand over. His thumb, catching your bottom lip. Swiping it across your plump lip. "Give me your body tonight..and make it last me a lifetime." He smiled softly. Demanding such a thing in a very soft way. Which wasn't normal for Zemo. He usually is so aggressive and forceful. Though it was a very nice change.

Not even giving a vocal answer. You begin to kiss against his thumb. Taking it in with your tongue. Giving light sucks against half of his digit. Your eyes focus on one another. His thumb pushed deeper into your mouth. Letting out a heavy hum of desire. Sucking harder as you felt his gaze grow more and more hunger for intimacy. Slowly, pulling his thumb from your mouth. He drug his down your bottom lip to your chin.

"Please, my love. I want you to have a night you won't forget. Lemme be in charge." You asked in a delicate tone. Taking his hand that just was touching you. Stroking the back of it with your thumb. His eyes flutter as he gives you a stare. A stare he hasn't given you in a long time. Not since the first you met. A lustful, longing gaze. All he mustered was a nod as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Okay, you can be in charge. Give me a night I can fantasize about in my cell." He smirked.

You giggle as you gently pull away from him. Reaching forwards to the tie on his robe. Opening it up to see his body. Making you melt on the inside. Geez, you really needed to compose yourself. Before you could do anything else. Zemo pulled it off completely. As he leaned in to get some sweet affections. But you stop him and gesture for him to lay down on the bed. Even though you did want to take him right there badly.

"Don't let this power get to your head."

"I just want you to relax baby. So I can strip down for you and hump your brains out." You wink.

"Oooh.. Say no more." Zemo chripped. As he fluffed some pillows. Getting on the bed, laying on his back. His head propped up by the piled pillows. As he stares over at you. His gaze still remains very heated.

You felt a touch shy, due to the attention you had. Turning your back to him as you slowly pull off your top. Swaying your hips playfully as you tossed the shirt to the side. Looking over your shoulder at him. As he chuckled softly and smiled at you. Before long you slid off your bottoms. Stepping out of them and kicking them away.

Soon enough Zemo was starting to touch himself. His hand stroked his full shaft. As he watched you eagerly, unable to hide his excitement for you. Which gave you more confidence and aroused. You walk over to his side. Removing your panties next to him. Before you gently pull his hand away.

"No more, baby.. I don't want you to have too much fun without me."

"Then ride m—"

"Beg.. Or I won't let you be inside me."

"Ugh..you little tease." He sighed in annoyance. Having a playful smirk worn on his face. "Please.. Fuck me til I'm dry and can't cum anymore." He begged like you wanted.

"Heh, fine. I'll do it Zemo, just for you daddy." You get on top of him and straddle him. Spitting into the palm of your hand. Soon stroking it all on his cock. Giving him a few heavy strokes. Hearing him softly hum in pleasure. Once he felt hard enough you let go. Seeing it stand up nicely, pulsing with needs. Needs to be buried deep inside your core. Which got you throbbing and a bit damp.

"Baby, help me keep my balance."

"Of course.. Here. You can hold my hands or lean over and put your hands on my chest." He said in a hushed tone.

You gave a nod as you reached to take his hands. Holding them firmly as you begin to shift your hips just right. You felt his tip up against your entrance. Biting your bottom lip as you keep eye contact with him. Slowly you sink down until you're filled. Your mouth agape as your grip tightens.

"Nnn.. So tight.." Zemo groaned in his gruff tone.

Soon you'd be hearing more of his groans. As you begin to carefully bounce on his erection. Letting soft steady moans leave your lips. Steadily you began to rock up and down. "Ahhh… fuck baby. You have such a fat cock." You whimper. Soon hearing a chuckle of amusement from your lover. You look at him with Redden cheeks.

"You're so cute when you say such perverted things." He teased you. Still letting some groans slip. Especially when you fell quicker against his hard on.

"Oh h-..mm.. H-Hush."

You really start to get into the groove of things. Bouncing and rolling your hips at a faster pace. Earning you repeated praises and moans from your lover. As this pattern of bounces grew boring to you. You wanted to spice things up. Letting go of his hands. Which made him give you a curious look. You lean over and hold onto his shoulders.

I'm seconds you begin to hump him hard. Making the bed creak loudly. Zemo gasped, his hands clinging to your hips. "Nnn! Fuck!" He growled in a heated fashion. Under his breath he began to chant praises to you. Which made you fuck him harder. Focusing on using kegels at the right moments.

"Ahhh nnn.. Baby please." Zemo uttered in a whine. As he didn't expect such naughty things from you.

"Please what? Tell me Zemo. Want me to fuck you harder? You poor horny thing." You murmur in a toying baby voice. Some sharp grunts mixed within your words.

All he can conjure is a quick nod as he stares deep into your eyes. Biting his bottom lip hard. His body tensing up here and there. While you make your skins slap violently together. Your moans grow louder and louder together. At this point Zemo didn't care if they were heard. He was only focused on you.

"You're going to make me cum.. Mmm."

"Fill me please daddy. I wanna be stuffed.!" You cry out, unable to hold back anymore. The walls of your core clamp against his girth. Coating his shaft in your juices.

Zemo gasps deeply as he yanks your hips down. Holding you firmly down against his pelvis. To be deep inside of you, filling you up. Your eyes widen as you feel his warm cream shoot up in your cervix. "Ahhh! Oh Z-Zemo.. Baby!" You cry deeply.

He forcefully holds you down for a few moments. As his orgasm soon comes to an end. His grip loosens and he lets go of you. His hands rub your outer thighs gently. Both of you pant in sinc. Bodies glisten with passionate sweat. You don't want to move, loving the feel of his softening member stuffed in you. Laying against him, you give him weak kisses.

"Mmm, I love you my sweet kitten." Zemo said between kisses.

"I love you too.." You mumbled back in a tired tone.

Zemo rubs your back gently and as he hushes you. "Get some rest. You did good. I'll definitely remember this forever." He chuckled lightly. Letting you rest against his chest as you two enjoyed every second of this.

#daniel bruhl fanfiction #daniel bruhl smut #daniel brühl #helmut zemo #zemo x you #zemo #zemo smut #zemo x reader

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Vices: Angel!Geto Suguru x Demon!Fem!Reader

wc: 1.2k

tw: NSFW

1K Follower Event Masterlist

"Make way!"

You're lounging on your throne when you hear the cries of a lower demon pushing through the crowd, hastily bringing his gift.

"My Queen, your gift. It has been plucked from the heavens and brought for your pleasure." The horned man pushes the long-haired, black-eyed figure forward, his legs shivering as he stands before you. He's half-clothed - as all angels are - but for some reason... he has no wings.

"Is this a farce?" you ask, uncoiling from your throne and approaching the chained being. "Where are his wings?" You circle about the shaking angel, searching for evidence of any wings at all. You find the remnants of his broken appendages hanging limply off his back, like stumps of a felled tree.

"They were taken off when he was captured, my queen. It was to prevent his escape." You swipe the inky black strands of hair away from his face and peek at him, watching his black eyes dart to your face.

"Give me his chain." The chain is placed in your hands, and you lead him to your throne. "Kneel." The angel does so, placing his hands on his knees and closing his eyes. Your party continues, with people approaching you to wish you an eternity of life and heathenry. It's not long before the demons devolve into an orgy, and you watch, unamused. What was a birthday without an orgy?

And it seems the angel beside you is not comfortable with the sounds emanating from the crowd in the slightest, keeping his head bowed and eyes shut. His massive fists clench on his knees, trembling as the night wears on.

"Terrified, little angel?" you wonder, and when he doesn't answer you, you yank on the chain, choking him a little. He gives a startled gasp, then looks up at you, tears in his eyes. "You should be. You're a rarity around here, and the others will surely ask to have you as part of our activities soon. Either that or they will sacrifice you." You laugh when his eyes widen, bottom lip trembling as he tries to hold back his sobs. Poor innocent thing, you think. He has no idea what he's gotten into.

_____________________________________________________________

Light returns to your domain in the reddish-beige hues you're familiar with, and you awake to the sounds of the angel singing to himself.

Singing.

He's still attached to the chain you wrapped around the throne the night before, but his fingers are holding onto the links, toying with them carefully. You stand from your position, yawning, then stride over to the angel sultrily.

"Today, you'll have your first experience." His head snaps up, and he whispers,

"Please." The pitiful word hits you like a bag of bricks, and you stare into the panicked eyes of the captive before you. "I repent for whatever I have done to offend you. Please, let me go."

"Not possible," you answer, squatting down low. "Not even if I wanted to."

"But they said you are the queen--"

"This domain does not belong to me. I am merely a caretaker of it. You would have to address the King of Hell, and he is not here." The angel whimpers sadly, his black hair shielding his face as he ducks his head. You want to apologize but you don't know what for, so you withhold it.

"Will you speak to him for me?"

"I cannot make any promises," you admit, and the angel looks down at his feet. "But I can give you some hope. It is not a miserable existence down here. We all have our vices, and I'm sure you'll find yours. Then you will be free to indulge in it as you please."

"But--" The angel cuts himself off, looking skyward. He wishes he could fly. You make note of the observation and consider consulting Sukuna about restoring some of his wings so he could soar around Hell as he saw fit. But you remember that you have to get the angel to find a vice first. That's the only way Sukuna will allow him any privileges.

"I'll help you with your first experience," you promise, hands drifting up the angel's legs. He flinches, scooting against the back of the throne, but you follow him, hands caressing his calves before drifting up to his knees. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. You'll find this enjoyable, I'm sure."

When you shift the pitiful cloth the angels call clothing aside, you find that your captive is already a little hard. He just needs a little more coaxing. Your hands drift to his cock, and you tug it slowly, eyes looking up to his for permission.

"You say I'm stuck down here."

"Forever."

"And Sukuna won't grant me freedom?"

"Even if you ask, I'm almost certain he will not. And if he does, then you will have to petition Heaven." The concept fully lodges in the angel's mind, and you see him come to the realization that there is no escape.

A bead of pre-cum oozes from his tip, and you hum, waiting on his answer.

"I..." But his hips buck instinctively and you raise a brow. "Do it." Your mouth slides onto his length immediately and he inhales sharply as you suck, his hands twitching on his thighs. You lick the tip of his cock as you come up, then glide your tongue along his length again, kissing it tenderly. His hips want to move off of the ground; you can tell by the way he clenches his fists. But he can't, because he's at an angle that won't support him.

Your hands come off of his dick and you nestle your nose against his happy trail, which makes the little angel beneath you whimper, fingers knotting in your hair.

"Oh, yes, please..."

Please.

You smile to yourself and clench your throat a few times before coming up for air, then descending back down on him. He cries out, whispering some words in a language you don't know and then murmuring,

"I'm going to die, I'm going to die..." You want to tell him that he's not dying, but your mouth is too full to explain what's going to happen next. "M-my queen, you're killing me--!"

The noise that erupts from the angel's mouth is so delightful that you almost miss the sweet taste of cum that accompanies it. After you've sucked your captive dry, you look up at him, smiling widely and licking the excess cum off your lips.

"Did you die?" you ask, and the angel's eyes expand exponentially and then roll back in his head as he slumps against the throne.

_____________________________________________________________

The chains are removed once he awakens, and the angel's hair is brushed back from his face as he is being cleaned and prepared for the evening.

"You look much nicer this way," you comment, leaning on the edge of the bathtub. "What is your given name?"

"Suguru."

"Suguru..." you repeat, touching the warm water with your hand.

"I passed out, didn't I?" The angel looks at you with somber eyes, fully realizing what occurred between the two of you.

"You did. Perhaps that is not your vice."

"It felt good," he admits, looking at his hands. "I want more, but I don't want to pass out again." You touch his cheek and turn his face toward you.

"With some practice, it will become like second nature to you, my pet." You press a kiss to his lips, rising from the side of the tub and letting the attendants do their job as you ready yourself for a night full of pleasure.

#geto suguru smut #wendy's 1k event #otherworldly beings #geto suguru x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen

[ohworm-writes]

Bitter

Ch 21 - Maybe we can figure that out together?

masterlist

You walk down the oh-so familiar walls of UA, the group or rowdy children following behind you. As you get closer to their classroom, their chatter quiets down to whispers. They were anxious for you. Hell, you were anxious for you. You hadn't talked to Aizawa since you fought, and you couldn't tell if you were ready to fave him again.

However, that opportunity was thrown out the window as the door to his classroom was slid open, those dark eyes of his resting on your figure. You didn't know how to feel. Anxious? Intimidated? Flustered? Maybe all three? Before you can decide, his eyes snap to his students behind you, their gazes trained on tohe two of you.

"Thank you for bringing them back safe, Mx. L/n." Your eyes widen as he turns his attention back to you. Your throat feels dry. You swallow harshly while you nod, "of-of course." The silence that follows is deafening. Does he not care that you made a fool of yourself in front of him?

"The rest of you, go inside. I need to talk to Mx. L/n about the situation today." You feel the air tense. Your heartbeat quickens. The students mumble amongst themselves as the file in to the classroom. Kaminari is the last one to go, and before he closes the door, he sends you an anxious thumbs up. You give the boy a smile, your joyful expression faltering as the door closes with a quiet 'thud'.

You two stand in silence, neither of you moving an inch. You eyes are directed towards the floor, and you can feel his burning through your skull. He clears his throat, successfully catching your attention. He looks nervous, his hair messily splayed across his face, covering most of it.

"I'm sorry." His nose scrunches once the words leave his mouth, his face still keeping its bored expression. You huff, "what? That's it?" He lifts his face up, eyes meeting yours, before he shakes his head. "No- it's not, I just-" he slips up on his words, frowning, before looking you in the eyes.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitter asshole," he begins, shifting his footing to make the conversation more bareable. "I'm sorry for saying you aren't fit to be a teacher. You're probably better at the job that I ever will be." He reaches his hand up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes darting away from yours. "I'm sorry for treating you like shit."

He takes a deep breath, his eyes narrowing. You seatched hos face for any trace of a lie, but can quickly tell he's being genuine. "I- never really wanted you to leave." His tone was so soft, you weren't sure if he even said it. When his eyes meet yours, however, you can tell it wasn't you hearing things. Your face flushes as he continues, keeping you hooked on every word.

"I'm- not the best with handling my shit." He gives out a soft laugh, you offer a smile. "I didn't like what I was feeling, so I just built my walls up higher and higher and-"

And before he can continue, you grab his face with your hands and press a chaste kiss to his lips. You could taste coffee on them, making you giddy. You hear his breath catch in his throat, but before he can do anything more, you pull away. Your cheeks felt like an oven as you take a step back. You feel a smile make its way onto your face. You carefully go to grab onto one of his hands. He flintches away at first, making you nervous, but he places it softly into yours.

You smile, looking down at his hand, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his knuckles in a caring fashion. "You're an asshole," you state, looking up at him with an innocent smile, "you know that." His cheeks were tinted pink as he exhaled a sigh, closing his eyes and humming softly.

"I never wanted to leave, but- I was scared," you confess, your smile faltering the slightest bit. "I don't know what we are, or, frankly, ever were." You chuckle, focusing your attention away from his gaze and back to you hands, still making patterns in his skin.

"If you let me," he says, taking his free hand and lifing it up to your face. You eyes widen as he swipes his thumb over your cheekbone, his fingers making you direct your attention back to him. His eyes were soft, expressing something you could only describe as love.

"Maybe we can firgure that out together?"

pairing - Aizawa Shouta x GN!Reader

a/n - FLUFF MY BELOVED!!!!! OH HOW I MISSED YOU!!!!! they FINALLY making up, god that took forever 😅 this isn't the last chaoter, since we still have some drama to sort out, but the end of this beloved smau is coming sooner than I thought!! lets finish this off with a bang!!! new chapter on saturday~!!

#bnha smau #bitter #aizawa smau #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #eraserhead smau #eraserhead x reader #mha smau #smau #aizawa shouta

[a-is-for-abel]

"“I’m moving.” He froze, glancing up at his friend. The other boy’s eyes were gleaming with suppressed sobs, breath hitching and jaw clenched. “Mom got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

Inspired by this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Sand and shells crunched under the belly of the kayak as it ran aground. With a wobble and a curse he tumbled into the water, paddle floating away from him and kayak shooting off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck."

He scrambled to collect both, tossing the paddle up onto the beach and grabbing the handle at the bow of the kayak to tow it onto shore.

"You're late."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see Warren in all his cut-offs and sandals glory. "And you're early."

Warren crossed his arms. "I'm literally the most on time, dude."

"Whatever, just-- Help me grab the stuff."

He popped open the watertight chamber in front of the seat and reached into the belly of the kayak, all while Warren struggled to pull the backpack out from under the cage of bungee cords at the front.

"Just unhook them, dude," he said, his cellphone and two unopened cream sodas finally in hand.

"Don't tell me how to do it."

"It's not going to--"

"Shit!" Warren yelped, recoiling and clutching his hand.

"Told you."

Warren flicked him off, but turned to do what he said anyway.

"Come on, suns gonna start setting soon." He grabbed his backpack from Warren and stuffed the drinks and his phone inside.

"What? Afraid of some gators?"

"No," he said. "Rather a gator than my dad."

Warren grimaced. "He still got you on that curfew?"

"Yup."

He picked his way through the mangrove thicket that cut the beach off from the rest of the spoil island. The roots of the black mangroves jutted up like fingers through the sand and the stilts of the red mangroves tried their best to snag his feet as he ducked under the sprawling web of an orb weaver hidden in their midst. Thankfully, it cleared out past the initial wall of foliage, becoming more barren with only the occasional thicket.

He remembered when his dad had led them through here the first time and explained that the mangroves kept the spoil islands standing. That when hurricanes and storms threatened to wash them away, their roots would act like a little army, keeping off any barrage and harboring whatever took up shelter under them.

He frowned. His dad and him hadn't come out here since--

"Fuck, fuck, fu--" Warren sputtered behind him, high-pitched.

"Web?" he asked, glancing back to see Warren flinching away from a tree.

"Yeah, fuck--" Warren brushed his arms off frantically and patted at his hair. "Fucking spiders all over the fucking place, man. They call it Mosquito Lagoon, but it really should be spider god damn la-- Fuck!"

"Nice one, ‘spider god damn la-fuck’ really has a special sort of ring to it."

Warren shot him a glare and dusted off his shoulders and the front of his shirt with quick flicks. "You owe me for psychological damages..."

"Come on, we used to come out here all the time."

"When I was like ten! And with your dad!" Warren cowered away from another web that sprawled from a lone tree. "And I didn't have as much free real estate for a spider to like, you know-- Crawl all over me or whatever."

"Free real estate?"

"Yeah, you know the whole--" Warren gestured vaguely. "The meme."

"God, please stop," he groaned. "That shits like, what, twenty-seventeen? That's like ancient history, man."

"It's a classic."

"Sure," he muttered. "A classic."

"Whatever, man, you're just not cultured."

He scoffed. "That's definitely it."

The other end of the island unfolded into a drop-off, all coquina and shells packed tightly together and built up into a mound that cut off abruptly into nothing. It was the highest point of the island-- of most of the spoils out here honestly-- even though it's small cliff had been eaten away and eroded over time, shrinking and shifting as the island shrank with the waves.

Dropping his backpack, he sat and dangled his legs over the edge, shoes knocking back against the coquina with a scratchy rasp. Warren plopped down beside him, keeping his legs folded and away from the plunge. Not that it was much of a sheer cliff. Only about eight feet down at the most, but enough that it felt like a lot. Compared to the average of three feet below sea level for the rest of the mainland; eight feet felt pretty fucking huge.

The tide lapped at the base of the island, the water hissing and coiling, writhing and alive where it squirmed through the holes bored through the coquina face and back out with a soft crackle. Crabs, tiny and mottled, darted in and around the rocks and he could see finger mullet, their scales flashing as they turned and twisted with the waves.

"You tied up your kayak, right?" Warren asked.

"Naw, but it should be fine. I pulled it up pretty far."

"I'm not sharing if you get stuck out here."

He frowned, shooting Warren his best puppy dog eyes. "You'd leave me out here?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Fair."

Seagulls drifted in lazy circles far overhead, the occasional cry working its way down to them as the birds banked with the wind, following the gusts up to where they could catch a glimpse of a meal beneath the water. One wheeled down in a sudden arc, wings folded close to its side as it plummeted, beak first, into the water with a snap and then back out with a spray.

"Man, tough luck..." Warren said. "Hate whenever they miss. Makes me feel kinda bad."

"They're just gonna go do what the rest do and steal some fries at the jetty once they realize it's easier than doing this."

"Yeah, but it's like-- I don't know, man. Just wish he'd get a win."

"You don't even know him!"

"I feel like we have a connection." Warren pointed at where the seagull had gone back to patrolling the waters. "Me and seagull number one thousand and three, we're like this--" He crossed his fingers.

"Shut up," he snorted.

They watched the seagull try again and fail.

Warren started up a running commentary after the third attempt, cupping a hand over his mouth to imitate the slight grain of a sports announcer's microphone as he dramatized the whole thing. When the seagull finally managed to snag a fish Warren cheered, arms thrown up in a touchdown motion that he copied with a grin.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Warren high-fived him.

"Where's all that enthusiasm for when you're at my games?" he asked.

"Come on, dude, you know I always cheer the loudest. You're just too far out on the field to hear me."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"Whatever, man-- What'd you bring anyway?" Warren grabbed his backpack and began rummaging through it. "Oh shit! Gummy bears, dude! And the good kind, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, grabbed them before I came here. That's why I was late, idiot."

Warren tore open the package. "Crimes forgiven, man. This is worth it."

"Give me that--" He pulled his backpack out of Warren's lap. "I also got some soda, but I guess all you care about is your precious little bears."

"Naw, naw-- Hand that over."

"Rude much?"

"What? You want me to kiss you on the lips for it first, bro?"

He laughed. "Now, that would be the polite thing to do."

Warren puckered his lips at him and then snatched the soda. "Fuck off."

"Not even a little kiss?" he teased.

"You dragged me out to spider-fuck-nowhere, while it's ass fucking hot out and where it smells like rotting fish taint-- Just to watch the fucking sunset, when we could have sat on my roof and done the exact same thing-- You expect a kiss for that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Bro code."

Warren snorted. "Hand me a bottle opener, dip shit."

He popped open his own bottle and passed it over to Warren, who struggled for a moment before finally getting it with a triumphant 'whoop'. The mixture of saccharine flavored soda and the slight rotting stench of algae, and whatever else the lagoon had to offer, wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't terrible. It was familiar.

It was homely in it's off kilter sort of way.

"So, why'd you bring me out here anyways?" Warren asked.

He sighed and kicked his heel back against the coquina. "I’m moving.”

Warren sucked in sharply and he glanced over at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the water below his feet. "Dad got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

"Dude…"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I just--"

"Is that why you decided it'd be a good idea to sneak out and go to that dumb party with me?" Warren asked, frowning.

"I figured it would be one of the last chances I had to do something fun, you know. Here. Before I just-- Leave all this shit forever. I mean, we're moving to fucking Ohio, man. Where the fuck am I gonna find a party on an island out there?"

"Right…"

"And look, fuck my dad--"

"Jake--"

"No, fuck him-- He didn't even--" he huffed. "Things were looking up, man. Varsity lacrosse in sophomore year, that's huge, dude. And I wasn't just the fucking loser kid in the back of class anymore and he just--"

"Works rough here, dude..." Warren cut him off, sighing. "Space programs taking a shit. Whole island's taking a shit, really. Plenty of people left the first time NASA tanked, remember? It's just… it happens, man."

"So, you're just fine with it then?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We're never going-- I'm never going to see you again and you're just okay with that?"

"It's not forever!" Warren said, throwing out his hands. "There's planes, man! It's the twenty first fucking century. We got phones, dude. We'll stay in touch."

He grit his teeth and looked down.

"Jake, bro. C'mon-- Look at me."

He met Warren's eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, dude." Warren said, smile wide, and he could see the little falter at the edges, but he didn't call him on it. "Look--" Warren held up his bottle. "We'll cheers on it."

"Cheers on what?"

"To staying in touch, to meeting up in the future. To staying friends and all that, I don't know."

"To you finally getting a boyfriend?"

"Actually, you know what, I'm not going to miss you at all."

"Come on--" he grinned, nudging Warren with his shoulder. "You'll miss me."

"Yeah," Warren chuckled, looking down with a small smile. "I will..."

His fingers tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, bottom lip threatening to worry between his teeth. "Look, let's do your dumb cheers thing before it gets too sentimental or whatever."

Warren sighed, seeming to shake himself off before raising his soda bottle above his head and towards the slowly setting sun. "To us."

"To us?" He wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that kinda cheesy?"

"Just shut up and do it."

"Fine..." he grumbled with a grin, raising his bottle to clink against Warren's. "To us."

--

//photo credit// me and my phone c. 2020 //

#writeblr #writing community #creative writing #fiction #prompt fill #prose #writers on tumblr #short story #writing #my writing #original work #sorry for the cursing #miss the spoil islands and the lagoon #Florida

[lis-likes-fics]

Intoxicated

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Word Count: 7,877 words. JFC. I know, I know Warnings: Alcohol use, drug use, accidental overdose, and a lot of angst. Author’s Note: Okay.... I know. I got a little bit carried away again. Bite me. This is part two of Concussed. I’m super happy with it.

~~~~~

Y/N sighed as she stepped out of her car. Carlisle gave it to her after the accident, her car had exploded after the wreck. She didn't think Jacob would be able to fix that.

She just came back from her day at work at the Carver Café. She'd already graduated and decided to get a job for the money, but mostly just to keep her busy during the day when Carlisle was at work.

She locked the car and walked up to her door, digging in her bag for her keys while moving a strand of hair from her face. When her hands wrapped around the keys, she unlocked her door and walked inside, kicking off her shoes while closing the door behind her.

She set her bag on the table, picking up her phone to call Carlisle after her long day of work. The phone rang a few times as she waited, taking the dollar bills and loose change from her bag and moving it to her money jars.

When the phone didn't pick up, she furrowed her brow and called again. He never missed a call.

When the phone didn't pick up the second time, she started to get worried. She walked to her kitchen, stopping at the door as she looked at the counter. There was a paper, a letter.

She eyed it, wondering what the letter could have said. She saw the flawless signature at the bottom, Carlisle.

Why didn't he call or tell her in person?

She picked up the note and read it carefully:

"My dearest, Y/N,

There are no words to express the gratitude I feel in my heart because our hearts have come to dwell together as one. You are my life, my heart, my soul. You are my one true love. The day we met was fate. You are my destiny. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today. Loving you is the only thing that makes my life worth living now.

I love you and I always will until my existence may come to an end. I want to hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you and how much you really mean to me.

You gave me comfort and confidence where there was doubt. I want to be there when you need to talk. I want to be the comfort for your soul. I want to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. I need you to be a part of my life. All the things that I told you about how I felt and how you make me feel were true.

But I can't be here for you without putting you in danger. You are my love, my life, my heart, my soul, and my everything. If I were to be the reason you get hurt, or worse, I would never be able to forgive myself.

So my family and I are leaving. In time, I hope you are able to move on and find someone who makes you feel whole, who makes you feel better than I ever could. You are a strong woman, so you don't need me. I know that you have the strength to pull through this so you can live a full, happy, and safe life.

I'm sorry for any pain I have ever caused you, I'm sorry for any pain I may cause you. I love you, and I will always love you.

Goodbye, my love.

Forever yours, Carlisle."

Her brain worked to process the letter, trying to let the words sink in. When they did, they hit her hard. It was worse than the car crash, the pain sinking into her body, followed by a cry.

Her legs came out from under her, unable to hold her up and support her. Tears sprang to her eyes and were instantly free falling. A strangled cry left her throat and she dropped the note.

Her head was buried in her legs. She didn't know how long she was there crying. The pain blinded and deafened her. All she could hear was his voice repeating "We're leaving."

Her whole being hurt, she felt her heart being torn in two.

He called her strong. He said she would be able to move on, in time.

He must have not realized just how self-destructive she was. He had become her life and he was leaving her. How could she move on from that?

"I don't want to lose you." Those were the words he told her that same night. Why was he leaving her without those words hanging in the air?

Why would he leave her?

~

Months had passed. Y/N was a wreck. She attempted going to the Cullen's house to see if it was some sick joke, but she could bring herself to go. She couldn't face the emptiness of that place.

She tried to check up on Bella, but she decided against it. Her mental health was crumbling, she would never be able to help Bella.

Y/N focused on work at the diner. Everyone noticed how lifeless she had become in such a short period of time. She was visibly deteriorating.

When she wasn't at the diner working herself to death, taking double shifts, triple shifts, quadruple shifts to keep her distracted, she was at her home with a bottle of something strong.

Since she lived next to the Chief, she was one of the people in town who people usually knew. Charlie had some sort of guardian responsibility over her after her grandfather died, people knew her.

Because of this, she had to drive all the way to Port Angeles to get her bottles of sweet drunkenness. The longer she was sober, the longer she had to deal with thinking of him.

She didn't want to think of him. Thinking of him meant thinking of him leaving her. Which led to some eternal outlet that would lead to the end of her existence.

She didn't like thinking of him.

If he would just come back to her, she would finally be okay. All she needed was for him to come back.

But that would never happen. He left, he's gone.

Y/N plopped down on her couch, a glass in her hand and a bottle sitting on the table for her refill. She searched through the TV to find something to watch. There had to be something to distract her, something to watch drunk. She knew better after learning from her mistake the first time she got drunk with the door unlocked and her keys in hand.

It was a long day of waiting for her bus back home. She had no idea how she wound up in Montana, but she did.

There was a knock on her door and she groaned loudly, hiding the alcohol in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, putting the jug of dish soap in front of it.

There was another knock on the door and she spoke in the clearest voice she could manage, "I'm coming."

She sighed and grabbed a bottle of water and a mint before opening the door. Bella stood on the other side, bags under her eyes from her lack of sleep and that spark she used to hold gone. Y/N was surprised to see her out of her house or school, she wasn't really active these days.

"Hey, Y/N. Sorry to come over like this," she said, looking at her.

Y/N shook her head, "No problem. Come in."

"Thanks," Bella mumbled as she walked into the house. Y/N scratched her head before closing the door, seeing Bella standing awkwardly in the world.

"Please, sit down," she told her, having a seat herself on her couch.

Bella took the offer, sitting in the chair next to the couch. Y/N asked hesitantly, "How are you holding up?"

Bella chuckled humorlessly, "I don't really want to talk about that."

"Yeah," Y/N muttered, "Me, neither." She stood with a sigh, headed to the kitchen to get a snack or something. "How are your nightmares?" Y/N asked, tripping slightly when she got to the threshold of the kitchen. She muttered a curse word under her breath.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, concerned about the slip up. Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine." Despite her best efforts, the slight slur in her tone had managed to escape as she grabbed a bag of chips and poured it in a bowl, taking it back to the living room.

She sat back down on the couch and Bella nodded strangely, "My nightmares are…just the same as they usually are."

Y/N sighed, "Yeah, Charlie tells me sometimes. Says he's wearied- worried about you. Wants me to try and help but… if it's anything like me… I won't be able to."

Bella furrowed her brows, looking at her closer. Bella blinked and shook her head, "Y/N, are you...drunk?"

Y/N looked at her, shaking her head quickly, "What? No! No, I'm not-I'm not drunk. I'm fine… I'm perfectly…completely…fine."

She looked down at a small dog figurine on the table to distract her before looking up to meet Bella's gaze. Tears began to make their way to her eyes, one managing to slip as her lip quivered slightly. She sighed and nodded slowly, "Yeah. I'm… a mess."

She couldn't stop the tears now, so she opted to ignore them. A downside to her being drunk was the spontaneous decision to either be void of emotion or ambushed with it. She always either ended up crying herself to sleep or staying up almost all night long before passing out with an hour of sleep under her belt.

She wiped a tear away, "I don't know what to do. Sobriety makes me think of him and I don't want to do that…"

Bella understood, nodding her slowly as she turned away, her own eyes filling with tears as she sympathized her pain with her own.

"I don't have anyone. My parents are dead, my grandfather is dead. I don't have any other family and I'm here alone," Y/N shook her head, sniffling and turning away from Bella completely.

Bella was always easy to talk to. She didn't judge, she didn't criticize. She would sit and listen and just be there, as a friend should.

Bella nodded, "For what it's worth, you'll always have Charlie and me."

Y/N took in those words. Charlie was always right next door when she needed him, no matter how little that was. He was there, his door was always open. Bella knew the same things Y/N did, so they could empathize with each other. They'd become somewhat family to her.

She just wished she could have her life back. He left with that.

"Thanks, Bells," Y/N told her gently. She looked around her house before her eyes landed on Bella again as she wiped her face, "Uh, can we keep this under wrap? No one in town knows and I want to keep it that way."

Bella nodded, "Won't tell a soul."

"Thanks."

For quite a while that night, the two allowed each other company and open ears. It was nice to have someone who knew, someone who knew.

No one else knew about her relationship with him. She was just out of high school, it would be strange if they got together when he was supposed to be in his late twenties to early thirties, at least to the humans.

Y/N fell asleep sometime after Bella had. It was late and they were both tired, Y/N especially.

When Bella started screaming in her sleep, Y/N bolted up quickly, easing her awake and telling her she was dreaming. Bella apologized heavily and Y/N told her not to worry. She found herself having nightmares of her own some nights.

Bella went back home after she'd woken up and Y/N poured herself a glass before trying to catch sleep of her own.

She went to her bed after cleaning up and was able to pass out from exhaustion. When she dreamt, she couldn't tell how much she wanted to.

Her dreams were the same for months.

~

"Y/N," her name was called by a voice she never thought she would hear again. She looked around in search of the angelic voice she had missed so much, "Where are you?"

She ran, searching frantically. She couldn't find him, he wasn't anywhere in reach. All she could hear was her name being whispered, as if carried in the wind.

"Where are you? Please!" She called, desperate to see her love again. She needed him, she couldn't go on without him.

"Please! Carlisle, come back!" She called, the name falling off her lips like both honey and poison. She couldn't tell which one. It was a bittersweet taste that drove her mad to think about.

"Please!" She cried, "I need you!"

"Y/N," his voice was closer now. She turned to see him, afraid that, if she wasted time, he would be gone again.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't feel any different. When she saw his face, it was somehow paler than it normally was. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair was a mess. She stared at him in shock.

She reached a hand out to touch him. But just as her hand touched his cheek, he was gone.

"No, Carlisle!" She yelled, panting as she woke in a cold sweat. Tears covered her face and sweat covered her body.

She bent over and sobbed, her face buried in her knees as she let out the pain she was feeling that curled in her chest like a snake coiled around its prey. Pain filled her head as her headache ripped through her with a vengeance from both the drunkenness and the tears.

It was hard to breathe through her tears when everything hurt so much. It felt like she was being ripped open from the inside. Saying his name out loud only brought back to memories she worked so hard to drown out with alcohol.

Her eyes were red and puffy from crying so much. Her throat hurt from sobbing. She stood and headed downstairs, pushing past her bottles of dish soap to grab the alcohol bottle waiting for her.

She wished he would just come back to her. She wished he would bring back her heart, be with her again so she could stop hurting. Y/N just wanted him back.

~

Weeks past since this, she was no better. No one thought she would be. She dragged herself to her kitchen for a drink and something to eat.

Her hands grabbed at air as she dug through the cabinet under the sink and she sighed heavily. Y/N turned regrettably, her last bottle was in the trash. She'd finished it last night.

Y/N groaned loudly and stood, replacing her drink with water. She checked her phone, she had the day off of work. So no work to distract herself.

She knew she would be heading out of town today, so she made a checklist of things she would need.

Dinner. She needed food, her fridge was empty. She worked so late that she forgot to go to the store. She sniffed and sighed, she'd go later on today.

She also needed to do her laundry before it piled up. She would do that first and head into the city when that was finished.

The day was long and sober. She couldn't escape her own thoughts as she was left thinking of him with every move.

She hadn't seen Bella lately. All she knew was that she was hanging out on the reservation quite a lot with Jacob. She wondered if that's where she was right now. She especially hadn't seen Bella in the past couple of days.

Y/N would have joined her on the Rez with Jacob, but she thought it best not to. Bella needed this. She seemed better with Jacob around.

When the clothes were folded and put away and the laundry was all done, she headed out. She was running out of tolerance with sobriety.

The drive was about an hour as she came up on the grocery store. After the quick run, she went to the liquor store she always visited for her drinks.

"Ran out again?" The clerk asked as he checked her. She nodded, "Yep, I'm glad you've got me."

"Always do," he chuckled lightly before she paid and left. She went to her car, her bags on her arms as she sighed heavily.

"Psst," she turned around and saw a woman leaning against the side of the building. The woman gave a smile and asked, "Is the liquor satisfying you?"

She raised a brow and just stared back at the woman. She shrugged lightly, "I can give you something stronger. I've seen you around here a couple times a month, for the past six."

Y/N sighed, "I don't want what you're selling. I'm sad, not suicidal."

She laughed, "This stuff won't kill you, it'll just make you feel good. First time I tried it, I had a good time doing it. It'll make you feel real happy."

Y/N bit her lip and thought for a moment. She actually thought about it. She promised herself she wouldn't do anything worse than liquor, but even the liquor was losing its touch. She sighed, "What is it?"

"Just the happy stuff, give it a special name and you get cops on your back. It's nothing you need a needle for, if that's what you're worried about."

That was good. She hated needles. She bit down on her lip before asking, "Normally, it's two hundred."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly. The woman smirked, "But I'll make it one if I can have the best thing you got in there." She motioned to her bag and Y/N thought some more.

She nodded and grabbed her wallet, taking out the two fifties she had. She thought about it a little more, this was a big decision.

But she was too far gone to care. She sighed and handed it over, along with her best bottle, "Here."

The woman smiled and dug in her bag, pulling out a tiny baggy that held a large pill. Y/N grabbed it and put it in her pocket before turning to leave before she made any more big mistakes.

"Have fun," she said as she popped open the bottle.

Y/N got in her car and drove back home. Quickly unloading her food and liquor, she put everything up. She locked the door behind her as usual, grabbing a bottle and pouring herself a couple glasses.

She had completely forgotten about the pill in her pocket until she changed into short shorts and a t-shirt, the baggy falling out of the pocket.

She looked down at the pill, putting a little more thought into it. Unfortunately, it was hard to think. She was already drunk, she got better at downing her liquor with each cup.

But that's why she bought it, wasn't it?

She picked up the pill and sighed, putting it on her tongue and swallowing it, following it with liquor.

The pill worked quickly. At first, she could see how the pill made you feel "happy". She was dancing around her house, tripping over things and enjoying herself.

Then her pulse sped up and she felt nauseous, but she couldn't feel herself puking. Nothing was coming up, she only had the feeling.

When her energy went down dramatically, so did her pulse. She bumped into the table in the living room and tripped slightly.

She got back to her feet, her vision blurry. She was sweating like crazy and she felt horrible. Then she tripped behind the couch, her head fuzzy and her body numb.

Her mouth started foaming a little, her vision fading in and out. She didn't know when she passed out, but she did. She kept coming back to consciousness, but it was hard to feel. Her body hurt, but she couldn't move.

The door opened at some point as her eyes opened lazily. She couldn't see anything, she still had foam coming out of her mouth. It tasted disgusting.

She tried to make a sound or move, but she couldn't. She heard the footsteps but her eyes closed again and she faded out.

~

The door swung open and his eyes widened as he saw Y/N laying behind the couch, foaming at the mouth.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, kneeling beside her as he tried to listen closely to her heartbeat. It was slow, too slow. If he could cry, he would have.

He placed his cool hand on her cheek, "Y/N, love, wake up. Please."

He looked up and rushed to her bathroom, searching through her cabinet in search of something to use. When he found the activated charcoal, he sighed in relief and snatched it.

He paused when she saw the antidepressants sitting next to it. It was mostly untouched, it didn't seem like it'd been used in months. She'd given up on them.

He frowned and swallowed hard before heading back downstairs to her. He opened her mouth and put one of the pills in her mouth, following it with water to get her to swallow it.

"Come on," he muttered to himself, "Swallow it. Please, take it."

She managed a small noise as she tried to mumble, but her lips barely moved. When he saw her swallow the pill, he nodded and sat her up against his chest.

"Come on," he said, "You'll be okay. It's okay." He picked her up and set her on the couch, her head propped up on a pillow. "You'll be okay," he told her, his face was pained as he watched her.

He stayed with her, giving her a little bit of water at a time after wiping her mouth of the foam and sweat.

He could hear her heartbeat return to normal, the sweat died down and he laid a blanket over her. He sighed with much relief as she slept. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He looked around the house, the house he'd missed walking into. He saw the bottle of liquor and the cup on the table and frowned.

He turned to the kitchen, the fridge had food in it, but it wasn't as full as it needed to be. He sniffed the air and bent down in front of the sink, opening the cabinet to see the fresh bottles hiding behind the soap.

He sighed again, wiping his face before glancing back at her sleeping on the couch. He wandered around the home, trying to see what all was different. He went back to the bathroom to put the charcoal pills back in it. He picked up the bottle of antidepressants, looking at the date written on it.

It was sometime after he'd left.

After a while, he'd heard her scrambling downstairs, followed by a retching sound as she puked. He rushed downstairs to her, taking her hair in his hands to move it out of the way.

She jumped slightly at the touch but was too caught up in throwing up. When she was finished, she collapsed on the floor next to the trash, wiping her face.

He knelt in front of her, not sure if he should offer her a smile or a sad look. He gave her a sad smile to even it out.

Y/N blinked at him and muttered quietly, she was in shock and disbelief, saying his name still hurt. This was some illusion, he wasn't coming back.

"Carlisle?" She spoke, her voice wavering as she ready had tears welling in her eyes at saying the name and seeing him.

"Y/N," Carlisle sighed, reaching his hands out to touch her, "What happened to you? Why would yo-"

She cut him off, standing up as she flinched away from him. She thought him coming back would make everything better. She thought she would throw herself into his arms and tell him how much she missed him.

But she was just pissed.

"What the hell?!" She yelled, moving away from him, her eyes burning in anger.

Carlisle watched her, silently getting back to his feet. She stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice wavering drastically.

"You leave me here alone and then show up after six months with no explanation? I thought you were never coming back! I spent weeks trying to convince myself that you would return and then it turned into months and I lost all hope of ever seeing you again," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I was trying to keep you sa-"

"Keep me safe?" She scoffed, "That's not an excuse, Carlisle. I wish it was, but it isn't." She shook her head and another round of sobs left her, shaking through her violently.

Carlisle hated seeing her cry like this, he hated seeing her so broken. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"You left me here alone. I didn't think you would ever come back. I thought I meant nothing to you."

He tried again, "Y/N-"

"I'm not finished," she told her. She hadn't raised her voice, she had strained it by crying and she knew she wouldn't have to raise it to stop him. He would listen to her.

"I thought you loved me. That's what you told me," she shook her head before allowing herself to look up at him.

"I do love you," Carlisle told her quickly. He couldn't bear the thought of her not knowing that he loved her.

"Then why did you leave?" The room fell silent as she stared him down. He looked away from her, he couldn't take the look in her eyes as she stared at him. They were heartbroken, beaten, she looked hopeless and broken. She continued, "You could have brought me with you, or just stayed. You hurt me, Carlisle. You were supposed to protect me, but I needed protection from myself and you weren't here to give it."

She fell silent and Carlisle hesitated to look up at her, but he did. She was still staring at her feet, tears dropped from her eyes as her lip quivered uncontrollably. Something in him made him move closer to him, his arms out for a hug. He just wanted to calm her, to help her, to wrap his arms around her to tell her that he was here and would never leave her again.

But he couldn't.

"Don't touch me!" She exclaimed, holding her arms around herself. She looked back down at her feet with blurry vision.

Carlisle's eyes held grief, pain, and sorrow. He didn't like seeing her like this. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Y/N sighed heavily and went to her couch, sitting down and pouring a glass of scotch. Carlisle was by her side in a split second, his hand grabbing the bottle and pulling it from her grip.

"You shouldn't be putting this stuff in your body, you almost just died because of it. You've polluted your blood, it smells different," he told her gently.

Y/N didn't look at him, she stated at her glass and sighed, "You... get no say… in what I choose to put in my body."

Without looking at him, she grabbed the bottle again and poured her drink, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. He looked away from her, unable to watch her do this to herself. Or rather what he did to her.

As she drank the liquid, it burned down her throat. She expected it to calm her nerves as it always had, but she only grew self-conscious. Having him see her like this, down at her lowest low as she downed a glass of alcohol, she felt unclean and poisoned. She felt invaluable and dirty. She felt like she had lost all of her importance sitting next to him so hopelessly.

She set her glass down soundlessly, standing up from her spot on the couch to get to the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a bottle of water, hoping it would help to cleanse some of that feeling out of her.

But it didn't. Sure, the water was refreshing, but it didn't help.

Carlisle spoke into the silence, eyes glued to a picture hanging on the wall where she was smiling brightly with her late grandfather. She looked so happy in that picture, a vast contrast to how she looked now.

"I spent every day wishing I was with you. I wanted to come home but I didn't think it was safe. I thought I was putting you in danger simply by being here," Carlisle admitted sadly. His honey smooth voice was clear but anything was calm. It was sad. If he was capable of it, it would have broken multiple times throughout his words.

She sunk down to her knees as he spoke, she didn't want to look back up at him as he spoke, her head against the wall. She didn't look over. "You put me in danger by not being here…" she said softly, "I thought I lost the one I loved the most. It hurt. It especially hurt thinking that the one I loved the most didn't love me." Her voice cracked at the end.

He turned to her, but she did not turn to meet his gaze. It hurt too much to look at him. "I do love you. In all my years, I've never loved like I do with you. You're my everything. I never meant to hurt you."

"All you had to do was stay," she shook her head as she spoke, still refusing to look up at him. She brought her legs in front of her and tucked them to her chest, setting her chin on her arms.

The room fell back into uncomfortable silence. She stared at the cabinet filled with liquor in disgust, thinking back to the pill she took earlier that night. How could she be so stupid?

She swallowed hard as she felt another lump in her throat, more tears threatening to spill. Carlisle licked his lips and closed his eyes, "All I wanted to do was help people. I dedicated my whole existence to doing just that. Then I find someone as special as you and hurt the person I wanted to protect the most."

Carlisle was gone in the next second. He'd left so quickly, there was no sound from the door opening or closing behind him. She saw lights flash outside her window as he started his car, pulling out of the driveway and leaving her alone in her house.

Y/N's face scrunched as tears left her. They streamed down her face, her eyes puffing once again and her body shook. She thought over their conversation in her head. She was too hard on him, she knew that. She should have accepted him and let him make everything okay.

But she didn't, she pushed him away. Even after he just saved her life…again.

"Carlisle," she said. She hadn't spoken his name in months, it hurt too much to say. But after seeing him again, knowing he was real, after all. It was so good to say his name again, it was a release she didn't know she needed. She repeated his name through her sobs, like playing a broken record. It felt so good.

She didn't know how long she was crying. She grabbed the scotch bottle off the table and began to bring it to her lips before stopping. She sighed and looked at the bottle. She shook her head, turning to the sink and pouring it down the drain.

There was a small part of her that was screaming at her to stop, to think about what she was doing, but that part was too small against this new need, this old and new desire in her body.

This desire to make it up to Carlisle.

She couldn't go on the way she was, she knew it wasn't healthy from the start, but she didn't care because it was a distraction, it made her feel somewhat good.

But she was going to do her best to be worthy of his love again. Hopefully, getting rid of the pollutant, the poison she'd been giving herself would make up for an inkling of the harm she inflicted upon him.

She didn't care that he hurt her now that she had hurt him. She just needed to make it up, and she would spend the rest of her life doing that.

She grabbed every bottle she had, pouring it down the sink. With each drop down, she felt unsure of herself. Would she be able to stick it out? This was what she used to cope, this was what she had been using for strength these several months.

Her instincts tried to make her stop what she was doing, but she needed to change her instincts. She needed to get them back to how they were. She needed to be strong for Carlisle.

When the liquor was gone, she closed her eyes and sighed. She felt this strange freedom, this strange pride in her being. She was proud of herself, but only a little bit. It wasn't enough to make her crack any type of smile.

She threw all the liquor bottles in the trash, getting rid of her demon. When she was finished, it was roughly five in the morning. She was practically dead on her feet.

She had terrible sleep over the past couple of weeks, it was so bad that she resulted in not sleeping at all in the past few days.

She was really dizzy and she felt herself swaying, struggling to keep her on her feet. Normally, she would just down a glass of liquor and keep running on that. But seeing as she had just disposed of every single drop she had, that wasn't an option.

Another reason for being so tired? She neglected her body of the water she needed to survive. She was extremely dehydrated.

In short, her body was barely holding on to what little life it held.

She shook her head and declared herself awake, headed to the door to go to Carlisle. She needed to see him. She needed to be with him and reassure him that they would be okay. They had to be okay. She couldn't lose him twice.

However, she didn't make it past the couch before she collapsed, falling to the floor as she passed out instantly.

~

She might as well start getting used to being woken by people because she collapsed on the floor. Bella was waking her up anxiously, Charlie by her side-- he was probably the one who got the locked door open. Both Charlie and Carlisle had a key.

"Y/N, wake up!" She exclaimed. Y/N's eyes opened slowly and she saw the two hovering over her, fear written across their faces. They relaxed a little when she opened her eyes fully and slowly sat up. She had a pounding headache, though.

"What happened, kid?" Charlie asked, helping her sit up.

Y/N laughed humorlessly, "I guess I was so tired I passed out." She was dizzy as she looked around the room. She struggled to her feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge to try and soothe herself.

When her vision settled and she wasn't seeing four Swans in her house, she sighed. Charlie looked over at the trash can filled with liquor bottles.

"What is this?" He asked, eyeing her with a hint of disappointment.

She spoke quickly, "I wasn't drinking any." She thought with the speed of a vampire. She'd spent so much time with the Cullens, she'd picked up on their ability to lie so quickly, "I saw them near the house just laying there, I think someone dumped them, so I threw them away. I passed out because I got tired and dehydrated from so much work at the diner."

He nodded and thought about her answer. It was a legitimate answer to him. He's known this girl her whole life, she wouldn't drink that much, especially at 19. But, in her defense, she would be twenty soon.

He nodded and told her, "Just…be careful, you scared me, kid."

She gave him a reassuring look, forcing a smile, "I will, Chief."

He nodded to her again and looked between her and his daughter before turning to leave them alone, it looked like they had something to talk about.

When he was gone and well out of earshot, Bella rushed to her quickly, "Are you insane? Edward told me what you did. Overdose, really?!"

Y/N sighed, "It was an accident. I was getting… really bad… and someone offered and I was too far gone. It was one pill but I was drunk and it didn't go well… He found me and helped me. We argued and I'm just… I'm trying to fix it."

She watched her as she spoke, she believed every word she said. Y/N was in no position to lie to her at the moment. Bella sighed, "Get some sleep first, at least. I know I can't tell you what to do but you fainted, so I think we can both agree that you need to sleep before you turn into ash or something."

Y/N sighed and agreed to at least that. She knew she needed sleep before she passed out while driving to the Cullen's and really died.

She got in the shower to soothe her body and release some of the tension in her muscles. She'd been so stressed lately and last night with seeing Carlisle for the first time in over six months, arguing with him, and almost dying (technically almost dying twice), she needed a healthy outlet.

After the long shower, she was able to get herself to drift into sleep. After seeing Carlisle again, her nightmares calmed down and allowed her a dreamless sleep. It was nice to have sleep, she hadn't gotten much of it in a long time.

~

After getting healthy sleep, even if it was only three hours, sleep was sleep, she quickly ate to calm her growling stomach.

She was grabbing her keys when her phone rang. She sighed and turned to pick it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're okay. Charlie told me what happened," Billy’s voice said on the other end.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Didn't mean to worry anybody," she told him. She internally sighed. Word spread quick around Forks, she would be surprised if the whole town called to ask if she was okay. But she would rather answer that many phone calls in one day.

Billy wasn't the last to call either. As soon as the call ended, the phone rang again as another person contacted Y/N to make sure she was alright.

What a great town this was to show their concern for her.

At the wrong times.

By the fifth call, she decided to just email all of the people she knew would be calling who hadn't called yet. She wrote the email, reassuring everyone that she was A-OK and didn't need any help. That seemed to shut up the phone and she was able to leave.

She groaned loudly when she looked at the time again. It was already late as it struck five in the evening.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure the phone didn't ring again before getting in her car. During the car ride, she kept herself hydrated, learning from her mistake. She wasn't too keen on fainting from lack of hydration or sleep.

She sped down the familiar path to the Cullen House. She wanted to get there quickly, she had wasted enough time with her mundane activities. She needed to see him.

When she came through the trees and pulled into the Cullen's driveway, she got out before the keys were even out of the ignition. Y/N walked up to the house, seeing Carlisle standing in a window. He saw her and, even from where she was standing, she could see something in eyes when he met hers.

She swallowed hard and held her arms out in front of her, a proposal. He zoomed out of the window and out of the house. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

She instantly broke down again, she was getting tired of crying. Her arms held him to her, never letting go. She was so afraid that if she left go of him, she'd lose him all over again. She couldn't go through that twice.

Even if it wasn't the same as before, it was still her scent Carlisle breathed in as he hugged her tight, careful not to crush her. Everyone else must have been out hunting if they hadn't shown up by now.

Y/N let out a sharp breath before sucking another back in, sobbing into Carlisle's chest. He felt good. He felt like home. She was home.

She let out a breathy laugh and sniffled, letting him hold her to him. It was as if all of their troubles had washed away so that this moment was the most special of all.

Y/N pulled her head out of the crook of his neck just so she could kiss him. She missed him more than anything, she missed his hugs, his kisses, his words of love. This was perfect.

They were wrapped up in their moment, wrapped up in each other. It felt so amazing to have their lives back. They were home again.

She breathed deeply, holding the breath in as her lips moved in sync with her mate's. She then let the breath out in a moan, but she was too focused on the moment to let the sound embarrass her. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

He pulled away enough to speak, still so close that he spoke against her lips, "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you."

She shook her head, "Stay." She didn't care about what happened, she cared about what can happen.

He smiled, "I will." It was her turn to bring him back into the kiss, kissing him deeply and passionately. It had been too long since she felt his touch.

When her mind came back to her drinking briefly as she spoke into his lip, "I'm quitting."

"Good," he smiled, once again kissing her. They weren't going to waste any time to be near each other, touch each other, love each other.

When the kiss slowed, she took a deep breath in, his scent filling her senses. She missed his scent. She opened her eyes to stare in his, they were beautiful, honey gold, sparkling as he gazed at her. She missed those eyes. She expected them to be darker like they were last night, but they were just as golden as the sun.

She smiled, her first genuine smile in months. He smiled back at her, captivated by her. Their foreheads were still pressed together and they swayed slightly, reveling in each other.

Y/N spoke, intoxicated by him, "I love you." Her words were a whisper, a breath that delivered the sweetest of air.

Carlisle beamed down at her, a light laugh escaping his throat as he gazed at her, his face looking like he was going to cry while his eyes stayed clear of any tears. "I love you," he told her sincerely. The only thing they could think of doing after the heartwarming confession was to kiss each other again.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning again at the feel of his body against hers. She felt amazing with him.

He set her on the hood of her car and continued to kiss her, mumbling against her lips, "I'm going to marry you one day."

She smiled, "What's keeping you back?"

"Absolutely nothing," he told her genuinely.

They stayed like that, just kissing each other's pain away the best they could. There was no way they could ever leave each other's sides. After the ordeal they just went through, they could never.

He told her in that soft, smooth voice she missed with all her being, "I will never leave you again. No matter what, I will always be right here with you. I love you."

"I know," she replied just as gently, "I love you. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me. I love you so much."

The confessions were falling freely, leaving their lips faster than they could think. "After all this time, I still can't believe I'm yours. I can't imagine my life without you now, Carlisle. I obviously wouldn't last. If you hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead. Here I am, only living and breathing because you were here to care for me."

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," he told her that same thing the first time they kissed. They held so much gravity then and they only seem to hold more now, "I don't know how I'd survive without you now. You're my life now and I will never let you go ever again. I promise you."

They thought they were going to be there forever confessing their feelings over and over again, drinking each other in with each kiss. They knew that they would eventually have to go inside and spare the others.

They went inside and eventually everyone came back from their hunting trip. They expressed how good it was to have her around again and how much they missed her. After a talk with Alice about how Carlisle knew she was in trouble, she went up to Carlisle's room with her hand grasped tightly in his.

There was a bed in his room that he had bought specifically for her so she could fall asleep in his arms. They were talking quietly with each other for a while before she finally fell asleep in his embrace.

He promised her that he would never ways protect her and that he would never leave her again, he promised that he loved her deeply, that he would always love her and he would always be here. He kissed her forehead, "Goodnight, my darling. I love you."

She smiled in her sleep, holding him tighter as she allowed her dreams to run wild. It was the best sleep she'd had in what felt like forever as she held tightly to him, never once letting him go as she slept.

Carlisle could have sworn she heard her mumble his name in her sleep and he smiled, breathing in deeply to enjoy her presence.

She muttered to herself, lost in her dreams of him, "I love you, Carlisle…"

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