#heartless sure do love wiggling their fingers around

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts & Kingdom Hearts 2 Spooky Heartless

#kingdom hearts #kh1 #kingdom hearts 2 #kh2 #heartless #search ghost #grand ghost #wight knight #gargoyle #chimera #hook bat #graveyard #trick ghost #grim reaper #prison keeper #my gif #oooo spooky scary #heartless sure do love wiggling their fingers around #especially those last two #i hope the animators had fun coming up with all kinds of weird movements because they're all very expressive and unique

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 5!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: Sorry I just had to tease you guys today and make you wait :) Again, I’m so very sorry this took a while, I just had a lot going on! I hope you enjoy the chaos of this chapter, my mind reallyyyy just went wild. 

Another special shout out to @gvfpal for being amazing and getting the first dibs on this piece! Thanks for always listening to my crazy ideas :) 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, impact play, etc, it’s filth. 

Masterpost

Driving lately has become a weird buffer zone in your life. Every time you get into the car your thoughts just start running. It feels like stepping out of your life momentarily; like you are closed off from your own world. It was like being in your own TV show and watching the recap of the last episode. It’s safe, isolating, and a place to let your thoughts just go. 

As usual, your thoughts go to Jake. He has consumed your entire mind. You were once happy being alone; in fact, you preferred it. Every man you’ve dated in the past year or so hasn’t been someone to take home to the family. Honestly, neither was Jake yet, but there was something different about him. Jake was different than any man you had been with, you felt like he did care for you, but he just didn’t know how. It was like he was a confused little kid who didn’t know whether to kick his mom or hug her when she came home from a long day away. 

You’ve never found yourself weak or needing a man, but Jesus fucking Christ, you needed Jake. Every time you’re in his presence you can’t help but feel your heart rate rise, feel the need growing between your legs… He just had this majestic siren song that you keep falling for. You’ve accepted at this point that Jake was right, he will never be the perfect boyfriend, let alone the perfect man. He was protective of you and did care for you, but he would never let you know that without a fight. 

“Pants off, now.” He commands. 

Oh.

Did he really just?... 

He’s standing over you with this stupid judging face. You don’t want to obey him, but your body is telling you other things. Your heartbeat has traveled from your chest down between your legs, pulsing at the thought of fucking him again. You feel frozen in this state of complete lust. Last night’s extravagance deprived you of his cock, and now… that’s all you want.

Clearly annoyed by your hesitation, Jake scoffs and reaches down to your waist. He wraps his arms around your midsection and lifts you over his shoulder. Your core cuts into his shoulders as he hoists you over him. You feel like a ragdoll trying to manipulate your way out of his grasp.

“Jake!” You whimper, trying to wiggle yourself into a more comfortable position.

“You really ought to learn to fucking listen to me.” His open palm meets your clothed ass, providing a cushioned, but still stinging smack. You yelp, quite loudly, surprised by his actions. He turns his head to look at your defeating position, “You’re in big fucking trouble now.” 

There he was. The Jake you have been craving. The Jake that surprised you your first night together. The Jake who you always secretly wanted, but were also a little scared of. This version of him was almost completely heartless, using you as he pleased. You become his plaything when this persona switches on. And you enjoy every minute of it. 

He loops his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats and yanks them off in one vigorous pull. Your ass is now on full display. You reach below his shirt and rake your nails across his lower back, trying any means to rile him up further. 

Jake winces through gritted teeth, “You’re such a fucking whore.” 

“And you fucking love it,” You cry.

Another open-handed smack breaches your ass; another yelp fires out of you. This one is sure to leave a mark. 

“You’re gonna wish you were good.” 

He starts his walk to the bedroom, and you continue to try to wiggle free of him. His grip is firm on you and the position he’s burdened you with provides no leverage to win. Although you really don’t want to be set free, it’s more fun not to completely comply with 

his whims. 

He approaches the bed and throws you down with a brute but controlled force. Your head falls back into the mattress you neatly made not that long ago. You reach your hands out to brace yourself from breaking. The fabric bunching up in your fists. 

“Hey! I just made this!” You chime.

Speaking at that moment was something you instantly regretted. 

Jake is standing over you, breathing hot and heavy. The tension in the air is thick and you know what you have gotten yourself into now. His demeanor is fierce, brow furrowed and eyes glaring through you. His hands are balled up by his sides and you can see the rigidity in his body. Behind his eyes, his brain is wracking through plans of what to do with you, his disobedient girl. 

You slide your legs up and down the mattress, nervous and excited about what he is thinking of. You run your hands down your stomach, trying to entice him to do something, do anything to you. Anything he wanted. You slowly part your legs, presenting yourself to him. 

“No. You don’t deserve that.” He barks, “If you think any of this will be for your pleasure… You’re delusional.”

“...Jake.” You beg. 

He reaches down towards your head, sending his fingers through your scalp and to the back of your neck, whipping you up, tugging his fingers on your hair. He leans closer to your face, still hovering over you. 

“Not.” A harsh pull at the back of your head puts you eye to eye with his looming presence. “My,” Another wincing pull tearing at your scalp, “fucking name.”

Jake holds you in his grip, dominating you completely. You feel defenseless, like an injured bird, waiting for him to care for you, but he doesn’t. 

“Please! Please, sir!” You beg. 

He releases you from his grip and your neck snaps back up to its rightful place. 

“Color.” He demands. 

You look up to him, eyes fierce and ready. “Green.”

Jake grabs your jaw, resting his grip along the bone, “You are mine right now. I didn’t give everything up for you to be flirting with my fucking twin. Do you understand me?”

You nod your head vigorously, feeling the shame settling in you. Who knew you could feel ashamed and horny all at the same time. 

“Words.” He orders.

You swallow any shame and try your best to put it aside; it wouldn’t help you now.

 “Yes, sir.” You mewl.

His hands move to the side of your neck, holding your jaw firmly with his thumb. 

“You know what you should be doing right now.” 

He guides your eyes down to look at the growing bulge in his pants. He seems harder than ever before, completely drunk on his own control. You look up at him through heavy eyes, scared. You’ve been here before. You need to please him again. 

Jake releases his hand from your jaw and moves it to run his fingers through the top of your head, coaxing you to get started. Gently placing your hand on his cock, you try to gently stroke him through his clothes. 

He fists your hair into his fingers, “No, no teasing. You don’t get to do that right now.” 

There would be absolutely no option for control for you. No teasing, any brattiness would come with a consequence. Jake steps back and leaves a bare spot on the carpet in between you two. His hand pushes you forward, launching your feet onto the rug, and then onto your knees. He releases his hand from your scalp and starts unzipping his pants. 

You are completely silent; compliant with his wishes. Waiting for his instructions. Your head rises to watch his cock slide out from his boxer briefs. It was daunting to see him like this, completely full, swollen even, bigger than you ever thought he was before. His right-hand grips around the solid skin, slowly stroking. His other hand reaches out to grab your cheeks, holding your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. 

Your eyes graze up his body to meet his eyes. The chocolate brown irises are almost unrecognizable in this position. His dominating stature shines over you, completely taking over you. You can feel your excitement growing beneath you, but there is nothing you can do about that. The warmth that was blossoming between your legs would be shut until your turn if you were even allowed one. 

He loosens his grip around your jaw, resting his hand under your chin. 

His velvety tone sweeps into the air, relinquishing any uncertainty you had, “If you need me to stop,” Three taps of his fingers rap gently across your jaw, “Just do that, okay? Tap three times.”

“I won’t need to stop.”

A complete surge of neediness consumes you. You need him, you need to make him feel special, to remind him that you were going to be the woman he would never forget. You take your hands from your lap and fly them to his body. One hand grips into his thigh and the other takes its position around the base of his shaft. You nearly knock him over in the act, sending him into pure bliss. Almost taking him out of his command, shocking him with your ability to be the whore he wanted you to be. 

“Fuck…” He cries. “My fucking little slut couldn’t even wait-”

You slide your mouth as far as you can down his shaft, gagging yourself on all of him. His body shudders below your hand and you feel proud of your ability to melt him as much as he does to you. 

It doesn’t take too many wet strokes for him to finally gather himself back. His hand reoccupies the back of your head, trying to chase that same feeling again. Your mouth is shoved with as much of him as you can take, almost too much to handle. It’s worth the praise, you tell yourself. Take all of him now, and get all the rewards you can. 

“You’re taking me so well.” He says in gravely tones. 

You truly weren’t, you were choking him down, barely hanging on. Tears streaming down your eyes. You try to shoot your best doe eyes up at him, begging for him to have enough. You were reaching your limit, pushing yourself to a new maximum. 

Your head kept bobbing rhythmically against him, trying to hold him deep in your throat. You were doing things you didn’t even know your body was capable of. 

“My best little whore looks so good down there, sucking my cock.”

A swift and hard push of the back of your head launches you as far as you can take Jake, knocking your nose into his lower stomach. 

Three taps.

Fuck. You did need to stop. 

Jake slides out of your mouth as you cough heavily, gasping for air. You collapse your head, trying to stabilize yourself. Deep breaths. 

Jake tucks himself back into his pants and tries to assess the situation. He bends down to you, bringing his face down to yours; sweeping the hair out of your face. The switch was flipped, he was going into protective mode. 

“Sunshine.” He whimpers. You try to hold back your coughs and lift your head to his. He pushes the last strand of hair out of your eyes, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, holding your breath in fear that more wheezes are going to escape. One deep breath through your nose clears the burning tickle in your throat. 

“Yes, I’m okay. Keep going.” 

His face lights up with your permission. The classic Jake smirk runs across his lips, almost a full smile revealing his excitement. 

“Good girl.” 

The words melt you. Any bit of praise was going to keep you going; it was going to make you need him more. 

He lifts you slowly back onto the bed, trying his best to be gentle only for this moment. He sprawls you out onto your back and sits next to you. 

The slowdown of all the action, the passion, is getting to you. He’s treating you like a weak girl, but you weren’t. He just took you by surprise. You wouldn’t let that one moment take away the Jake you had been craving. 

“C’mon, are you going to fuck me?” The words sputter out of you, only half confident, but still ringing strong through the air. 

Jake snaps his neck to scowl at you. There it was. 

His arm travels to your neck, holding you in place, once again choking for air, “What if I’ve had enough of you today? What then?” 

What if? Would he still be here if he did?

“You fucking want it and you know it… You’ve been thinking of it since last night. Seeing my cunt all soaked and not getting to feel it for yourself.” 

Who the fuck just said that? A month ago those words wouldn’t have even been something you would be comfortable thinking, let alone saying out loud. 

Your vile words shock Jake as well; you can feel the grip on your neck waiver a moment as he processes. And then. Well.

“You think you fucking know it all? My little slut thinks she knows me better, huh? I think it’s you that’s been craving my cock. You could barely wait your turn to fucking choke on it. You’re dying for me to fuck you. You’ve been naughty, trying to get me to take you. Being a little whore in front of me. Now you can wait.”

Jake stands up, and for a moment you’re actually worried he’s about to walk out of the room. Instead, he reaches for your left ankle and yanks it to the corner of the bed, the sheets sliding you across the mattress. 

“Shirt off.” He orders, and you comply instantly. 

He rounds the edge of the bed and grabs your wrist next, pulling it up by the pillow you slept on last night. With his other hand, he reaches deep into the side of the mattress between the bed frame and pulls out a restraint. It’s a soft cuff with velcro to hold it together. He holds it out for you so you can see. 

“Green?” He asks, eager for your answer.

“Fucking yes.”

A rip of velcro and then the cuff is wrapped around your wrist. You softly tug at the restraint, noticing it wasn’t going to be easy to break out of it, but you guess that was the point. 

Two more rips and soon your ankles are loosely restrained to the corners of the frame. You have more movement with your legs than your hand, but still would not be able to break free of the cuffs. 

He walks around the bed to the other side, surveying your naked body. Taking in each inch with his gaze. He was going to be the predator, and you the helpless prey. 

One last rip of velcro and the other cuff wraps around your wrist. Once he’s satisfied with the cuffs, he walks over to stand directly in front of you, watching you test each limb for movement. 

“What if I just left you like this? Just stood here and watched you beg for my cock.” The words are cold and cruel. You can feel the fire, no, the need burning in you with the thought of not having him. 

“No! Please, please. I need you. I want you.” You beg mercilessly. 

“So much for all that back talk before, huh? ‘Please’” He mocks. “I’m not so convinced you’re ready to be good yet.”

The need is gathering through your stomach, down between your legs. There was no way to hide the slickness that was starting; he would be able to see all of you.  

“Please!” You gasp, “I can be good, I promise sir… Just please fuck me. Fuck me, Sir!”

“Hmmm…” He drops his hands down on the mattress, staring you down, watching you writhe through the desire. “You don’t deserve anything. Trying to make me upset, trying to tease me, such a fucking whore today.”

The words coming from him are completely a facade. He knows he wants this now. He’s in too deep. He loves to see you like this, completely helpless; completely his. You have more of a say in this than he wants you to know. But you know what to do. You know the games he likes to play. 

“Please, baby. I know. I was such a bad girl… I’m a dirty slut. I fucked up. You can be mad at me, please… please just take me, I want to make you happy.” 

He watches you for a brief moment, letting the pleads hang in the air. His eyes are lit with an insatiable lust. He wanted it. He wanted it bad. He may be able to mask it with his words, but his body tells a completely different story. He pushes himself off of the mattress and begins to undress himself. Teasing you with each reveal of his tanned skin. 

First his shirt. The edges of the fabric slowly climb their way up his gorgeous soft stomach. It was like a curtain lifting at the beginning of a show, each inch elevating your excitement for the first act. 

The silence was eating at you. What was he thinking? What was he going to do…

“Please, Please…” You implore. 

Next is his zipper, slowly sliding down to once again, reveal his bulging, practically jumping cock. The sight of it is sending you into a ferality. You pull against the restraints, trying to lift yourselves towards it. Paying no mind to the forces holding you back, you try to reach for him.  

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He growls, “So impatient.” 

Pleading moans erupt out of you. You feel like you’re being withheld from the thing you want most, well, because you are. You feel your core tightening. His sultry, teasing behavior is absolute torture. 

“I need you! I need it, please!” 

Slowly, the remainder of his clothes fall off of his body, revealing his perfect stature. His body looks like it’s carved with absolute perfection and care. Each edge is softly rounded, ready to be touched. 

He crawls across the bed, bringing his head close to your aching cunt. His breath permeates your skin. He reaches one finger up to your lower stomach, slowly dragging it from your navel to your clit. You’re whimpering with each movement he makes. 

“Is this...” He finally plants his finger firmly onto your bundle of nerves, shocking every muscle in your body, “What you want?” 

“Yes, yes, yes…” The words are echoing out of you, pressing for more. 

“You’ve been very good, surrendering to me. You know your a bad girl, right? That I’m being extremely forgiving for even taking you this far.” 

“Yes, sir…” 

His tongue crashes into you, at first wide and spreading you, then narrowing onto your needy clit. The first pass over you sends you into complete shock, you can’t do anything but feel. The restraints prevent you from being at all distracted by anything but his soft, precise movements. 

He builds his pace, tasting everything of you that he can. 

“Oh poor thing, you can’t even help it.” He teases, “You just have to take it all.” 

“I want it all…” It’s getting harder to even form sentences. All you can think about is his face on you, completely drenching you. His tongue exploring each fold, each sensitive spot. You feel the tightness, the excitement rushing through you. Your legs shaking, arms fighting against the restraints. Labored moans fighting their way out. 

“Oh, well that won’t do.” He stops everything, denying you the release you were feeling so close to, “I’m sorry sunshine, but this is for my pleasure. Remember?” 

You whine, exasperated cries spilling into the air. 

“Are you being ungrateful?” 

A flat-handed smack splays across your swollen cunt. You lift your neck to watch it all happen. The evil smirk splayed across Jake, the hand meeting your skin, the soft gasps escaping your lips. 

“Color?” He asks. 

You think for a moment, “Green.”

Another soft blow swats at you, absolutely wrecking your body. Each blow feels like a shock wave of filthy pleasure. 

“Fuck…” This moment felt so dirty. Felt so good. He always pushed you to new levels of pleasure. 

He wastes no time at this point. He can’t wait any further to feel you. He knows he can’t hold out on you any longer. 

Jake pushes himself up on the mattress and starts to slowly pump himself. A steady stream of spit falls from his lips onto his cock, lubricating himself. 

“Are you ready for this?” He asks, most likely not caring how ready you are, it just means he was ready. 

You nod your head, unable to even fathom the force he will bring to you. 

“Words.” He commands. 

You strain to focus yourself, “Please just fuck me.” 

He reaches over to the corners of the bed, releasing your ankles from the restraints, but leaving your hands in their disciplinary holds. 

He grabs your hips and lifts you to line up with him. His cock blows into you, straight to the hilt. You moan loudly, almost graphically. He squeezes his thumbs into your sides, stabilizing himself. Low grunts come through his gritted teeth.

He isn’t giving you any mercy, pounding himself into you. Each drill pushes further and further into you, breaking you in two. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You groan. 

“Yeah? My little slut likes getting fucked like this?” He asks. 

“She’d like it a lot more if you were harder,” You reply through choked breaths. 

You don’t need to beg much for this. 

“That’s why you’re my fucking favorite.” 

Jake assumes his hand on your neck, gripping you tightly. You thought he was going hard before, but this was unreal. Each pump into you provided a harsh blow to your body. It was calculated, menacing, everything you fucking wanted. 

You feel him fill you entirely, your cunt consuming every inch of his unyielding cock. You feel yourself already losing control, building to climax. He feels so good, better than ever before. You both feel confident in each other, and you both know how to get each other to the highest high. 

“Oh, you think you deserve to come?” 

Fuck. 

“Please!” You beg. “Please sure, please.” 

He looks deeply into your desperate eyes. He can see the absolute terror of being denied. You feel like maybe he might give in, might let you get there. You know how close you are and you can feel him getting there too. You risk it all. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him into you, preventing him from escaping. 

“You fucking-” 

You both gasp in unison, reaching your orgasms just moments after the other. Jake lowers himself by your ear, uttering complete pornographic moans. It feels intimate to hear him like this, to hear how happy you’ve made him. 

Your body shudders underneath him, clenching around his softening body. Your restricting hold increases every tightening muscle in your core, lifting your back completely off of the mattress. Feelings of butterflies flurry through your body, starting from your satisfied cunt, down through your legs. 

You both mix within yourself, feeling your body flood with him. 

“You fucking slut.” He chokes out. 

You giggle in his ear, “Admit it, Jake, you fucking love it.” 

Instead of feeling excitement for your destination, you just feel uneasy. You could feel the sweat slickening the steering wheel the harder you gripped it. Deep down, there was a part of you that wished you didn’t agree to go see the band. 

The last time you interacted with Josh, it left Jake feeling jealous. He truly had no right to be jealous of you just making friends. But now, there was some lingering destructive intent. You wanted him to feel that way; as petty as that was of you. You were always the one chasing after Jake, begging him for attention, begging to be the only one. That morning with the twins was your opportunity to give him a taste of how it feels to be you. 

That point didn’t entirely come off to him, instead, the argument just led to more intense angry sex. That was always going to be the best way for you two to get in the mood. 

You hate knowing that Jake can get out of any argument by getting you fired up. At least you knew that all these arguments could in theory just be your foreplay, not ever real fights. It made you feel diminished, but then again, he would always find a way to make everything up to you by the end. 

Jake and his stupid, stupid apologies were going to kill you someday.

You both knew you had work that night, so Jake opted to drive you home so you could get ready. The morning and early afternoon flew by at his house. You were quite exhausted at that point and were ready to wash away the very sinful acts that still lingered on your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to prepare yourself for the shift and had to rush through your usual routine. Shower. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Get out the door. The whole hour went by in a blur. 

And just as usual, you pull through the cavernous parking lot of fleets and find your always unoccupied spot in the back. You still manage to arrive before Jake, whose car was missing from the lot. You turn off the engine and head into the back door. The kitchen is busy, with loud clanging and shouts emerging from behind the hallway walls. 

You drop your bag and head out to the main floor. Chris is nowhere to be seen yet, and the only other employee you can see is… of course. Mariella. 

She’s wearing this shit-eating grin talking to the regulars. You feel a wave of disgust run over you and you have to try and control yourself from letting your emotions get the best of you. The last time you saw her she was trying to fuck up your relationship with Jake, and well… She succeeded. You can’t let her do that to you. You can’t let your jealousy burn through what you have with him. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Breathe through it, let it go, and kill that bitch with kindness. 

You walk to the bar and hop under the counter, joining her behind the bar. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge you as you clock in. It all feels so middle school. You pretend she doesn’t exist, and she’ll probably do the same. 

The dishwasher beeps and you run over to start emptying the glasses. She pops her head over to look at you briefly but turns back to continue flirting with the 40-year-old in front of her. 

You’re extremely annoyed, but continue to complete your chores; well technically hers. Where the fuck is Jake? And why the fuck is she still behind the bar? 

“Hey girl,” Hearing her voice is like the equivalent of drinking lemon juice. It’s bitter, soured, and ultimately- unpleasant. 

You don’t even bother to look back at her, instead zeroing in on the steamy glasses. 

“So,” She starts, “I hope I didn’t fuck things up with you and Jake.” 

You snap your head to look at her, trying your best to display how uncomfortable you are in her presence. 

She’s so fake. Of course, she hopes she fucked things up. She manipulated you with the perfect words to turn on Jake. You continue to pull the glasses out of the dishwasher, lining them up on the counter to be put away.

“No things are fine. We talked it out. He said he’s done with all the temporary girls.” You glare back at her. 

Being petty is fun. 

“Aw, well I’m so glad to hear it babes,” She rests her hand on your shoulder and breezes past you out from behind the bar. “Oh and don’t worry, I closed out all my tabs.” 

The rage is filling in you. You felt brave at this moment, ready to settle any sort of anger you felt with her. 

“Mariella.” She stops to turn, just a few feet away from the counter. You stride over to the corner of the bar, separating you two with the counter. “What you did…” Your voice and bravery is starting to trail off when the reality of the situation was setting in, “What you did was fucked up. You knew I liked him before you did anything with him. When I finally got my chance you chose to be a backstabber and try to kill my dream. That’s not what friends do.”

Her face hasn’t changed through any of your words. A scowl is burned across her brow, “Who said we were friends?” 

Her words take you back. You thought you had been friends. You had worked at Fleets together for over a year now and had spent many nights together drinking and complaining about the shithole bar. Now she was denying it all? 

No. You can’t let her keep getting to you. You can’t let her make you second guess yourself anymore. 

“No, you don’t get to do that to me anymore Mariella. You don’t get to make me feel like shit. So what you had Jake first? So what you don’t want to be my friend? I am not jealous of you anymore, and you can’t make me feel second class just because your tits are bigger and you can seduce any of these losers in this bar. I won. I get Jake.” 

Mariella bursts out laughing, almost in tears. “Whatever! You won! Great for you. Hope you enjoy it all. Good luck with that mess of a human! I hope you’re very happy together.” 

She continues laughing to herself as she walks into the back office. 

That wasn’t the satisfying ending you wanted. 

You pull into a spot in front of the venue. The parking lot was dimly lit and full of cars. People lingered in front of the door, chatting, sharing cigarettes, waiting for something exciting to happen. 

The band had already been here for an hour or so setting up; probably having some pre-show drinks to loosen up. Even though they don’t go on for another twenty or so minutes, you decide it is better to leave earlier than to just sit idly waiting in your apartment. But now that you were here, and were early, you don’t want to go in until it’s time for their set to start. 

You feel your heart climbing into your throat. You truly didn’t think you would still get anxious over these things, but after everything that’s happened this week, it feels like walking on glass. 

You press your hands into your face and try to regulate the fear permeating through you. You try your best to flush it away, remembering you’re only here to support the band. You can’t let Jake’s jealousy control you forever. Whatever happens, happens. 

Jake walks through the back and heads towards the bar. As soon as he sees you a huge smile appears on his face. Was he actually happy to see you, or was he just thinking about what you both did just hours before? Either way, you smile back. The cheerful appearance of him is making you blush. Everything starts to feel real like never before. 

The back office door opens again and you see Mariella waltz out to the back. Chris appears in the doorway, making direct eye contact with you. Shit. Did she just tattle on you for being mean to her? Why does every interaction with her feel like high school all over again? 

Chris brings his hand up to wave you towards him, one finger inching in his direction. An audible sigh escapes your lips. Jake jostles to the bar and hops over the counter with incredible agility. 

“What the fuck?” You ask, completely perplexed at his insane amount of energy. 

He laughs, knowing how strange his action must have been. He walks past you, quickly uttering, “You make me feel like a whole new man baby.”

You would be inclined to jump onto him and mount him right there if you knew your boss wasn’t also staring you down from the other room. You try your best to acknowledge Jake, while still slipping away. 

“Oh good, you needed a new personality,” You joke, slipping out from the bar, “One sec, I’ll be right back.” 

“Screw you!” He sarcastically jeers from the POS system. 

You awkwardly jog over to the office door, letting yourself in. Chris is already back in his seat at his corner desk. He looks defeated, and well, really annoyed. His hand is sprawled across the right side of his face, holding his shaking head. You close the door behind you, trying to make him aware of your presence. 

“Sit,” he barks, pointing at the spare dining room seat opposite to him. 

You gingerly sit down on the cold wooden chair and try to sit up straight, holding yourself as professionally as you can. 

“What the fuck is going on?” His words cut the air. 

What situation is he even talking about?

“With?” You ask, surveying for him to give you more. 

Chris sighs and leans back into his chair, resting his clasped hands over his beer belly, “Listen, you’ve always been a fine employee. You show up, you do what you need to, and you leave. But I don’t deal with fucking drama. I don’t deal with he said she said, she’s dating him, he’s into her, bullshit. That’s why I put the rules in place.”

Ohhh what the fuck? What the hell is he even talking about? Mariella totally fucking tattled on you- to your boss of all people! 

You angle yourself forward, your face painted with confusion, “Okay, first off, I don’t know what to say to any of that, second of all, what rule?” 

“The no dating other employees rule.” The what? Chris continues, “Jake knew about it... I had a conversation with him about it. And yet we still have bullshit! And I really don’t fucking want bullshit.”

“Hold on, hold on,” You brace your hands out, trying to slow Chris, “Why am I just hearing of this rule now?”

Chris drops his hands, “I dont know. I just… I thought you were a lesbian.”

Your face drops and utter shock goes through your body. “Chris-”

“What? You were always hanging around Mariella and never had a boyfriend and only flirted with the ladies.” He throws his hands up trying to save this conversation he has so clearly lost. 

“Chris… Just because I’m not trying to suck face with the forty-year-old alcoholics out there, does not mean I’m a fucking lesbian.” You bury your face in your hands, completely over this entire interaction, “You have to tell all the employees the rules. Even if I was gay, what if I dated one of the other girls here?” 

“Listen… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? But bottom line, Jake knew.”

“Okay,” You trail off, “So…? Sounds like you’re getting at something else here Chris.”

Chris squares himself, leaning his hands into his thighs, “Well… Either you two,” he motions with hands a cut across his throat, “You know, end it. Or, one of you has to go. We’ve had struggles with this in the past. You both are great bartenders, but that can all change when you start getting into little spats and fighting in the bar.”

Little does he fucking know… 

“So, you want me to end my relationship, which I don’t even know if it is a real relationship or not-”

Chris moans, “God. I don’t care what it is-”

“Or you want me to quit?” The words feel sour and morose. 

Chris stands up, trying to get out of the unpleasant exchange. He walks over to rest his hand on your shoulder. A sad, looming expression dawns on him. 

“Doesn’t have to be you, kid.”

He goes to open the door, letting the light of the bar flood through the office. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. A slight choke sits at the back of your throat. Everything that has to do with Jake and you always is a fucking disaster.

Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can’t you just have it easy? Why can’t Jake just be yours and you be his? What does everyone have against you two? Is this a bigger sign that maybe he just can’t be with you?...

“Chris,” You beg, “Can I just talk to him for a few minutes?”

He shakes his fist and tries his hardest to let go of any frustration, “Fine, but make it quick I hate that regular.”

And the same as he did with you, he waves Jake over to the office. Jake tilts his head like a sad puppy and quickly jogs out from behind the bartop. He strolls into the hallway, and Chris brushes past him to go take his place. 

The tears are still welling in your eyes and you can’t quite regulate your breathing. The frustration and anger you feel for Chris’ stupid policy is mixing with the dissatisfaction of Jake once again withholding information from you. 

“Sunshine?” He asks confused. 

You grab his hand and pry him into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Sit,” You plead. 

Now the roles were reversed. You try your best to compose yourself and consume all the sad emotions that were begging you to crawl out. 

Jake sits in the same chair as you did, “What?-”

“Jake.” Breathe. Don’t take it too far, “Did Chris inform you of a certain… No dating other employees rule?” 

He shifts awkwardly in the chair, obviously trying to avoid the interrogation, “Well, yeah, but-”

“Please… Please don’t say we’re not in one, because that will fucking kill me right now.” Your voice is breaking.

He sinks back into the chair. For the first time, he seems… hurt.

“I wasn’t going to-”

“Jake if you knew, why didn’t you tell me? Now I’ve got Chris telling me one of us has to quit or we… or we… you know…”

He runs his hand through his hair and turns to face you head-on. He reaches out for your hands, and you half haphazardly return them into his grasp. 

“I didn’t want you to not consider us an option. So I didn’t say anything.”

You take your hands back from him, quickly planting them on your hips, “So you think putting my job at risk is perfectly fine? All this behind my back shit is getting pretty old Jake, and we’ve barely even been at this a few weeks.” 

He drops his head, catching the crown of his hair in his fingertips, “What the hell did you want me to do?” 

You throw your hands in the air, fumbling to even find the right answer, “I don’t know Jake! But we could’ve tried to figure this out together before I was once again blindsided by something you hid from me! Because of your mistakes, Mariella came tattling to Chris-”

He lifts his head, staring you down. His eyes are sincere yet concerned. A look you’ve never seen from him, “She what?” 

“I told her to fuck off. I finally stood up for myself and she came in here to tattle.”

Jake closes his eyes and clenches his fists softly, “She’s not the kind you attack with words sunshine.”

You shake your head, not even believing that he’s telling you that you shouldn’t have stood up for yourself, “Jake that’s beside the fucking point. Because of you now I have to choose between walking away from my job or you.” 

“You’re not seriously going to choose are you?” 

“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice. I don’t want to. I want you, but I also need a fucking job. And right now you’ve pissed me off again.” 

“Again, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Do you wish I did nothing at all?”

“No,” You retort, quick to remind him you did want this. 

He rises to his feet, trying to establish some sort of control in the conversation, “Okay, so what then? You knew we were going to be all or nothing, or at least I did. I knew I had to have you, I didn’t think the rule was going to be held up.” 

“Jake.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, “No, don’t fucking choose. What’s he going to do?”  

“Jake I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire one of us if we don’t pick. And we’re both on thin ice here so it will ultimately be whoever he likes more…” 

Jake shakes his head and drops his hands off of you, beginning to turn towards the door, “Can’t believe it. That you’re even considering it. After everything.” 

You grab his wrist, “After what Jake? After you finally decided you wanted to be with me? After I sat waiting months for you? After you fucked my friend? After you avoided this whole situation? After what?”

He snaps his wrist back to his side and reaches for the door handle. He shoots one last distraught glance back before heading back out into the hallway. 

It was about halfway through their set before Josh jumped off the stage to rush to you. He had been waiting for the right moment to run over to you all night. Shooting you happy glances, singing to you from the stage, and even ushering Jake over to the side you were sitting on so you could see him better. 

He waited until the worst possible moment to rush over to you, during one of Jake’s solos. 

He was worse than you when it came to pushing Jake. You could push him and get away with it, you knew it was all an act. But with Josh… He thought it was all a fun game, not realizing later that you would have to defend his actions like they were your own. 

Josh grabs your hand to lift you out of your seat, so eager to get you on your feet. The chair that you previously occupied clatters behind you. The crowd is completely distracted by Josh, and well, you. He swoops you close to him and soon your feet are moving along to the beat, jumping around with Josh in a flurry of happiness. 

Usually, you only had the enjoyment of watching live music, never participating in it. Here, you were now a part of this moment with them, and the one you wanted most to be happy for you, would clearly find this all too much. 

Josh grabs your hand and spins you around him, moving charismatically, so smoothly; quite romantically. If people were looking, they might think that Josh was the one you were with. Jake’s playing gets more technical with each moment, trying to win back the crowd’s attention, but everyone is watching his twin and you, swirling in a passionate dance on the bar floor. 

A smile is lit across your face; you’ve never had this much fun before, ever. There’s just enough whiskey in your system to completely evaporate any fear, or really notice the crowd cheering you on. You lower your hand across Josh’s waist, and he matches you, squeezing into your hip. You both circle each other, intoxicated in the glow of the moment. 

Jake’s solo slowly clamors to an end, and Josh realizes his cue to run back to the stage. He drops his hand from you and places a fragile kiss on your cheek before rushing back up to the mic. 

The crowd erupts in drunken cheers and you turn to notice the gathering they had made around the floor. They’re on their feet, clapping, enthusiastic about the thrilling moment. You awkwardly curtsey to the group and make your way back to your seat, picking it back up off the ground. 

The spirit of the moment quickly is burned when you look up and see Jake is not matching your excitement. A looming, angered glare is searing through any happiness you feel. He’s barely paying attention to the music, instead, steaming on the side of the stage. Gripping the guitar so tightly you fear it would break with any tighter hold. 

Shit. 

“Chris, can… I’m sorry can we just work this shift and figure it out tonight? I just want to do my job right now.”

Another classic Chris grunt and he waves you off, “Go. It’s gotta happen though. One of the choices.”

“Yes, yes I know,” You grovel, hoping that if you can’t come to a decision, he won’t be picking you to go. 

You rush back over to the bar and continue the chores you had left earlier. Of course, Chris didn’t bother picking up any slack, and neither did Jake. 

The thoughts are unraveling in your mind now. The control you had tried to exert is slowly withering away. Even though you had felt far more tough lately, you still couldn’t completely swallow the soft, emotional side of you. 

What the hell kind of choice is this? Lose your job or lose the boy you fought everything and everyone to have? Why does the universe fucking hate you?! 

Your body felt weighed, completely exhausted by all the drama and all the decisions. If you didn’t have responsibilities outside of this relationship, you would instantly pick Jake, but you can’t risk not having any income. You were a girl alone. No rich mommy or daddy to come to save you when you needed it most. You had given all of that up. No friends that could save you, they were miles away back home. You hate to admit it, but you were truly alone here. 

Sure, you had people, but no one that would be willing to take in a stray. Jake had his brother, he had more than you. It wasn’t fair to compare, but you were thinking it. 

He doesn’t seem to want to give you up either, at least that’s how it feels. He was heartbroken; defeated in that office. Just as sad as you. 

“Coming through-” Jake strides past you, holding onto three drinks, carefully balancing them in his hands, until he’s not. 

You turn to move, not realizing how close he was to you and knock your arm into his, sending the drinks flying over the front of your shirt. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim. 

Jake matches your sentiment, “Oh, shit.” 

You quickly run to grab a rag from the shelves behind the counter, trying to soak up the sticky liquid as fast as you can, before any stains set in. 

“Foul!” Yells one of the nasty regulars.

“Dude, shut up.” Jake retorts, rushing over to assist you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“It’s fine.” You don’t mean to be harsh, but in that moment all you could do was try to get him away. You didn’t want to think about him, about the situation, about any of it. You just wanted to get back to work. 

“This is Danny, and this is Sam,” Josh introduces the two other members of the band. 

You all gathered around the corner booth at the bar after the set. Jake had been avoiding you, taking his time to pack all of his things. The other boys were far less concerned with cleaning up, and headed straight to the bar, well straight to you. 

“Ohhh, so you’re the mysterious girl we’ve been hearing all about, huh?” Sam crosses his arms over his chest, surveying you, trying to be funny. 

“Oh yes, I’m very mysterious,” You joke back. 

Josh chuckles, “She isn’t one bit mysterious Sam, Jake is just always very vague with his lover’s darling. He doesn’t like to kiss and tell.”

You swallow back a large gulp of Jameson Ginger, “Oh yeah. I’m well aware.” 

Danny echoes into the conversation, trying to eagerly get in, “So how long have you two?...”

“Not long.”

“Oh,” Sam ponders, “I thought. Well, he’s been talking about a bartender for a-”

Josh shoots Sam a concerned look, trying to shut him up.

He knew? Did he know about Mariella? 

“Oh no, I’m not the only bartender,” Your comment is snide and condescending. You hope it’s not making a fool of yourself, but you want everyone to know the games Jake likes to play. 

You feel the alcohol finally hitting you now, maybe you didn’t realize it before, but standing with them for that short few moments was turning your mind into rubber. 

“Sam, c’mon. He’s your brother, you know how he is.” Danny whispers to Sam. 

Shit. Not another brother. 

“Was.” You correct, holding your finger out at Danny, “Let’s hope it’s was.” 

“Yes Mama,” Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, he turns to face the boys, “We like her, so we’re going to hope it’s ‘was’.”

“Where did he even go?” You ask, slurring your words slightly. 

Sam shrugs his shoulders, and is the first to sit in the booth, “I don’t know but I’m not waiting around for him to have any fun!”

“I like your thinking!” Josh exclaims, jumping in the booth beside Sam. 

Danny corrals on the other side of Sam, and Josh pats the empty seat next to him. Fuck. 

You cautiously slide into the booth next to Josh, trying to leave ample space between the two of you. 

The boys are like classic best friends. Danny and Sam seem to have a great bond, completely forgetting the fact that they aren’t blood brothers. They act like they’ve known each other their whole life. Their outfits are almost matching, both in patterned jeans and snug-fitting plain shirts. Their hair is just about the same length, except Danny’s is curly and wild, and Sam’s is sleek and flowing; similar to Jake's.

Josh is clearly the eccentric one of the group, sporting some sort of animal skin vest and low-rise dark wash jeans. He has on so much jewelry it jingles with each movement he makes. He’s practically wearing a tambourine with all the clangs. 

They all speak amongst themselves, raving about the set, the crowd, parts they think they nailed, and parts they want to work on more. It was a nice break for you to just enjoy being there with them, getting to know them just by watching. You were picking their brains without them even realizing that you were doing so. 

The two brothers fake-bickered with each other. Similar to how Josh and Jake would torment each other, but in a much more playful and innocent manner. You could see Jake in both of them, in different ways. Josh, well because they were twins, they shared eerily identical expressions. Josh just carried all of them in a more lighthearted way. Sam, on the other hand, you could see Jake’s sass within him. 

Just as you are finally ready to find a way to sneak into their fun, a presence joins you at the booth. You can feel the heat radiating off of him as he slides into the spot next to you, pushing everyone further down in the booth. His hand reaches over to your thigh, grasping it tightly, marking his territory. 

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grits through labored breaths. 

“Welcome!” Josh roars, “Glad to finally see you joining us!”

“Well, someone had to talk to the manager- who by the way, was very impressed by our performance. He wants us back next month.” Jake says these words as if they aren’t even exciting at all. 

“Oh! That’s awesome!” You cheer, looking around at all the boys. 

Their faces light up with victory, and they immediately start cheers-ing each other. 

Josh nudges your shoulder, “It was most definitely our dancing Mama! That energy got the whole crowd going! You’re our good luck charm.” 

You blush at Josh’s kind words, “Wherever you guys go, I’ll be there to cheer you on…” 

You drop your hand to the table, showing the boys you’re in this with them. They all take turns grabbing your arm and showing their appreciation. 

“Yeah, they really loved you.” Jake sneers. 

The sarcasm is lost on Sam, who pipes up, “Yeah they were all cheering for you guys! It was awesome, they stayed standing the rest of the set!”

Danny nudges Sam and whispers in his ear. Danny is like Sam’s conscious, warning him of all the sourness that is happening at the table. Sam awkwardly smiles. 

Jake pulls your drink from your loose grip and finishes the remainder of it. You shoot him a disgusted glance, furrowing your brow harder than you thought you possibly could. 

The boys all sit in silence, watching this awkward interaction.

Josh is quick to break the ice, like always, “So next time, maybe we can coordinate something? A little moment just for us?”

You turn to him, trying to warn him not to say that in front of Jake. But it’s too late for that. Jake grips your thigh, hard, nearly breaking through your jeans. 

“It’s not her band.” He snaps. 

“Yes Jake, I know it’s not my band,” You crack. 

“I liked your dancing!” Danny encourages, “You were really good!”

You grin back at Danny, thanking him with your expression. 

Josh jumps back into his own conversation, “Ok, but imagine, if we did that spinning thing again, but we lined it up with-” 

“Maybe you can take up one of your solos to dance with her.” Jake is being completely rude. You know the cause of it all. You know why he’s so ill-mannered. You try your best to forgive him but know there’s too much brash to go unnoticed by the others. 

“Josh, let’s think about this another time, okay? Let’s enjoy the victory of the night for now,” You turn to Jake, “Jake, we were just playing around okay?”

Jake rolls his eyes and leans back into the booth. He takes his hand from your thigh and rests both of his wrists on the table, fiddling with the callouses on his fingers. Josh nods his head and finally gets the point. 

Danny jumps up from the booth, excusing himself to go grab some more drinks. The table’s vibe has completely changed, instead of excited conversation, it’s mute. Sam is paying attention to the music playing over the speakers, tapping along to the beat. Josh is trying to get his drink down as fast as he can. And Jake… Is being Jake. 

His mood has been absolutely horrible. All because you chose to have fun. How rude of you.

“Hey,” You poke at him, “You don’t need to be like this right now. You have so much to celebrate!” 

“Oh yeah, let me celebrate that my girlfriend wants to be around everyone here but me.” He growls under a low breath. 

“Jake,” You comfort, “I came here for you, I’m excited for you.” 

“No.” Jake raises himself, and turns his head, angling towards you, “I do believe Josh, is the one that invited you. And if I’m not mistaken, you two were the ones dancing during my solo. Oh and also, it wasn’t you that came to see me after I finished up, it was the drunk old bar manager.” 

“Jake…” This time it isn’t you trying to calm him down, it’s Josh. He’s protecting you. 

“Fuck you Josh, you do this shit on purpose, trying to piss me off.” 

The tension is starting between the two, and you’re quite sure those heavy sips weren’t helping the situation at all. 

“Hey! Need I remind you, who was the one who-”

“Shut up.” 

You glance your head between the two of them, confused. Jake drops his head and turns away from Josh. Josh swirls the ice around in his cup, trying to avoid eye contact with you. 

“Josh…” You pry, “What did you do?” 

“Don’t,” Jake interjects, trying to hold off Josh. 

What the hell was going on? What sort of fucked up twin telepathy was happening. 

“No, no,” You scold, “Maybe I should ask what the fuck you did Jake? Huh?” 

Sam slowly tries to crawl out of the booth, avoiding whatever is about to go down. 

Josh crosses his arm, trying to yield to Jake, “He did nothing.” 

“Okay?” Your voice is shaky, trying to understand if this even involved you. This drunk version of you was trying any way to find out more. “Clearly someone did something.” 

Jake lifts his head, staring down Josh, almost pleading with his eyes to keep quiet. 

“Josh…”

You turn yourself to block Jake’s eyeline, lining yourself up with Josh. 

“Is it about me?” You ask, imploring. Hoping that his answer would be no. 

Josh sighs and drops his arms, bracing himself on either side of his legs. He takes a long breath. 

His silence confirms it all for you. 

Jake echoes in your ear, “Don’t worry about it.”

You scowl back to Jake, “No more hiding shit Jake.” 

He reaches his hand up to his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Before he even has a chance, Josh lets it spill out. 

“Jake wasn’t going to go back to you.” 

He could have stabbed you in that moment and the feeling would have been the same. 

“Fuck! Josh!” Jake yelps. 

Your heart drops. Jake fighting him is proof enough that what Josh said was true. You turn to Jake, tears welling in your eyes. 

“What…” You push Jake’s shoulder, “the fuck,” another push, “does that mean?”

You feel your whole body shaking with anxiety. The alcohol is climbing up your throat; tears starting to fall from your eyes. 

Josh grabs your hand, trying to prevent you from hitting Jake any further. 

“Mama, listen. He just didn’t think you wanted him anymore. I went over to talk to him about it and told him he should try again.” 

You turn to snap at Josh but feel horrible even thinking about being mean to him. He was honest with you, trying to help. 

“So, but…” You feel absolutely defeated, “So if you hadn’t said anything he wouldn’t have…?”

Jake turns completely away from the two of you, dropping his head into his hands, trying to breathe through it. 

“You fucking ruin everything, Josh. You always get to be the sun. You always get to save the day.” 

You turn to Jake, cautious to defend Josh, “Jake you need to tell me what happened.” 

Jake doesn’t turn back to you. Josh tries to grab your hand one last time, silently asking you to go easy on Jake. 

“Why wouldn’t you come back?” Your voice is breaking completely now. The rush of emotions is piling through you, breaking your heart all over again. 

Knowing he didn’t want to come back felt like it was all your fault. You were the one who turned him away before knowing the entire story. But also, you had a right to be upset. The juxtaposition of it all was fucking with you. Who was right? 

Jake is still silent, holding himself up in his palms. You turn back to Josh, begging for any sort of help. His hands rest on his cheeks, realization setting in of what he did. He went too far. Twins weren’t meant to be this damaging to each other. The public tension of it all was awkward, pushing each other too far. 

“What’d I miss!” Danny perkily walks over to the table, holding everyone’s choice of drinks. Sam’s trying to hide behind him, knowing what situation he left. 

You pout through the tears, showing Danny that he didn’t miss anything too good. 

You rise from your seat, standing on the wooden bench, climbing over Josh to leave the booth. You pat the two best friends on the shoulder, apologizing through silent chokes of your tears. 

Sam gingerly hands you your next round, placing the glass in your hand, and patting your knuckles. You awkwardly smile back at him, thanking him for the drink. 

You take a hefty swig and place the remainder of the drink in front of Jake, “Here… Unlike you, I don’t like putting good things to waste.”

The boys all wince through their teeth, and Jake jolts up to scowl at the boys. 

You secretly run past the booth and into the dark bathroom in the back of the bar. 

The shift is by no means easy. The two of you are in the worst rhythm you’ve ever had. Even on your first shift together, it was like magic. You could almost sense each other coming, you were good at trading off tasks. Tonight…. Was not that. 

Jake screwed up three orders, and you took two more drinks to the chest. Each time exclaims were made between the both of you, and patrons took it upon themselves to call out. The understanding for your bodies that you had just hours earlier was completely gone, completely out of sync. 

Usually, it would just be you struggling with your own thoughts, but you could tell the weight of the situation was sitting heavy on Jake. You had left things in a horrible, but justified place. You didn’t exactly feel bad for what you said, because, well it was the truth. So what Jake had to give up a booty call? You were the one that got the shit end of the stick every time. 

The bathroom was full of women. They were all slightly older than you, and mostly concerned with their friends who were far too drunk, or paying attention to how their makeup was holding up. 

You snuck through them, trying to find the one empty stall. You closed the door behind you and quickly locked it, stowing yourself away. The echoes of their voices melted with the loud music vibrating on the walls. 

Fuck.

What the hell? 

He couldn’t even look at you. 

He couldn’t even admit it. 

Why wouldn’t he come back? 

Well… You did kind of end that last night on bad terms. During that entire week, you wanted to run back to him; but you didn’t. He just needed a push. But what if he never got that push? What if he never showed up to tell you what actually happened… 

He never even tried to explain himself at the bar. He just kept trying to get you going. He can’t admit when he’s wrong. Does he have to be persuaded into being nice? Not entirely. Not all the time… 

Chris is about ready to lock up. He does his usual survey of all the surfaces, walking laps around each table, around the counters, really just pretending to look at everything. There really weren’t any expectations for the cleanliness of each table. He was actually just waiting for one of us to say something to him. For one of us to have decided. 

It was the stupidest fucking rule known to man. It’s a bar. People are bound to start fucking each other. Thats life. 

Jake and you had not broached the subject any further. There was no time and no further discussion to be had yet. It was the worst decision for either of you to make. It was utterly ridiculous. You didn’t expect Jake to give up his job either and almost started to believe that this was some sort of ending.

You tried not to think about it too much. Tried not to let that reality set in until you knew it for a fact. 

One last swipe of the counter, and you had completely cleaned up. Jake on the other hand was sweeping the floors, trying not to clean up in the same area. You try your hardest not to keep staring at him, but you want so badly for him to look at you. You want to figure this out… together. 

He places the large broom at the corner of the bar and strides over to Chris. You’re watching it play out in front of your eyes like a movie. You pretend to be distracted at the POS, but sneaking glances over your shoulder. 

Chris runs his hand over Jake’s shoulder and gives him a firm shake. Jake drops his head and nods. Reaching up to pat Chris’ hand. And just like that it’s over. 

What… What happened? 

Jake strides out of the bar, avoiding your eye contact, and slowly disappearing into the hallway. 

Oh, what the fuck? 

This is it. This is the end. Jake is giving you up. This wouldn’t be a romance novel. He wouldn’t run to you and lift you up, he wasn’t going to kiss you like no one was watching. He was just going to walk away, again. 

You throw your hands up, staring down Chris, trying to emulate ‘what the fuck’ with your body language. 

Chris mopes over to the counter, dragging out the moment as long as possible. He plops himself down on the stool in front of you, clasping his hands on the bar. 

“Go home. See you on Monday this week, kid.” 

So wait… He just… 

“Wait… What the fuck just happened?” You’re completely flustered, almost not believing what this means. 

“Jake quit. Go home. Talk to him.” 

TAGLIST (ILY GUYS!!!) Sorry if I missed anyone!

@gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @heckingfrick @gvfpal @sanguinebats @giraffehippy @anythingforjtk @lipstickitty @pinkandsleepy1934 @gretavansara @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @milkgemini @violet-hayes

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #josh kiszka #tending #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #angsty Jake

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

#ceo!harry #ceo!h x y/n #ceo!h x reader #ceo!h x fem!reader #harry stylss angsty drabble #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles #cute harry #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

[13uswntimagines]

She Might be a Forward, but You’re a Keeper (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where r doesn’t have the best reputation and is sorta known for being a troublemaker but once Emily comes into the picture everything changes. Livin’ The Dream by Morgan Wallen is what made this pop into head.

Author’s Note: Firstly, Firerfly and i thank the one voter so much for voting for this fic. Secondly this almost didn’t happen because my dumbass deleted from the doc just seconds after we had finished it. Thank you to @literaryhedgehog​ for saving it. 

“You have to do it Sonnett,” Lindsey said sternly, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring Emily’s puppy eyes. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this. It was only fair, since she was the one who got them caught. 

“Yeah,” Rose added, crossing her arms. “consider it your punishment for not following through on our prank on Pino.” Meghan had been pissed, and the lecture they had gotten did not seem to fit the crime, especially since they had been stopped. All they wanted to do was start an itsy bitsy prank war. Where was the harm in that?

“Oh come on.” Emily whined, glancing back and forth between the two girls and the woman standing on the other side of the room. “She would have murdered me if I let you put blue dye in her shampoo,” Emily said, her bottom lip trembling. 

“And now Y/n might kill you so we’re even,” Lindsey shrugged, fighting a smile. Whatever way this ended, it would be entertaining for her. 

Some might think that that it was a gross overstatement, but it wasn’t. You had a reputation. A terrifying history of explosions on the pitch, and a complete lack of approachability off of it. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, Alex and Kelley being the only exception, but you had known them forever so it didn’t count. 

You didn’t have many friends (contrary to what the public though), but you were viciously loyal to the people you actually let get close to you. 

The youngins had been warned that you did whatever (and whoever) you wanted and they should steer clear. You wouldn’t mess with them as long as they didn’t mess with you. 

The problem was that the blond defender was smitten from the first moment she saw you this season. When she had first joined the team you had just been another veteran and the excitement of joining the national team had overshadowed everything else. But then you transferred to Washington during Club season and she started noticing you everywhere.  Partially because you were everywhere- weaving around the field and her vision, at team events and now here at camp, and… she might have been caughts staring once or twice. Maybe Emily had tripped over her own feet a few times because she accidentally got distracted by the sight of you pouring water over your head after a hot practice, who's to say. Either way,  her two meddling best friends knew about her little crush and had decided to use it as blackmail. 

“I hate you guys,”  Emily said, downing half her drink for liquid courage. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes and shoved the defenders shoulder. “No you don’t,” 

“You better get your ass over there before she starts flirting with another girl,” Rose said with a disinterested wave of her hand, motioning towards the dejected Brunette walking away from you. There was a parade of women all night, and it seemed none of them were having any luck. 

Your eyes followed the woman as she left, but your face didn’t betray any emotions, appearing completely uncaring to anyone who happened to glance in your direction. 

Emily nodded. It was now or never she supposed. 

*****

You took an uninterested sip of you beer, swirling your finger around the glass when you set it back down on the bar. You had never exactly found team bar nights fun. It felt like thousands of people would come up and talk to you (and call you by name) and expect you to instantly be their friend. 

You didn’t need anymore friends. 

You took another sip of your flat beer, making a mental note to chastise Alex later for her terrible bar choice, and stared listlessly at the football (American style) game on the tv. 

“Hey, wanna hear a joke about paper?” You turned slowly to look at the speaker. You squinted at the blond defender, tilting your head to the side, not letting your surprise that a youngin actually had the balls to talk to you off the pitch show on your face. 

She scratched the back of her head grinning impishly at you. “Never mind, it’s tearable.”

You raised your eyebrow at the woman, you lips ticking up slightly at her adorable fidgeting. 

That seemed to give her confidence, as she set her drink down and slid into the unaccompanied stool next to you. 

“Why didn’t the vampire attack Taylor Swift? She had bad blood.” 

You suppressed your snort at the terrible joke, hiding it behind a sip of your bad beer. 

“It’s more fun if you actually let me respond before you hit me with the punchline,” You smirked, thoroughly entertained by the pink starting to bloom on the defenders cheeks. 

“Oh, my bad.” Emily said, making an embarrassed face. “Sorry, I often tell dad jokes- most of the time he laughs!’

This time you did snort, the smile you were holding back finally cracking across your lips. 

“Just most of the time? Sounds to me like you need to get a better one,”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eye. A terrible joke competition was right up her alley.

“Not at all. I could never compete with someone with your… particular skill set. You should be a magician because you just make girls disappear,” You wiggled your fingers, mimicking a magical motion. 

“Ouch,” Emily said, holding back giggles. 

“You could let me ice that burn as consolation,” You shrugged, also holding in a giggle. 

“Nah, I just need to wait a little for it to warm back up. You know what the hottest time of day is?”

“No, what?”

“Two- flirty!”

You cackled loudly, nearly throwing your head back. 

****

“Is the Ice Queen actually smiling?” Kelley asked, sliding into the booth beside Alex, passing a disgustingly fruity drink to her girlfriend. 

“It appears so,” Alex nodded, pushing the stupid mini unbrella out of her way to take a sip. 

Her eyes followed your laughing form, taking in how your eyes lit up, and the way you leaned closer to the blond defender. It wasn’t your typically cocky posture when you talked to girls, you seemed much more unguarded. 

“Who knew Junior had it in her. I never thought she’d work up the courage,” Kelley smirked over the edge of her drink. Emily’s crush on you wasn’t a secret (to the two of them at least), but they never dreamed Emily would actually make a move. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n look at anyone like that.” Alex started thoughtfully. “Well maybe-”

“We don’t speak her name Alex,” Kelley interrupted with a glare. They didn’t talk about your previous relationship. It had nearly ruined you completely. 

Rose and Lindsey joined Alex and Kelley where they were standing, all four trying to hide the fact that they were staring at you and Emily together. 

“You enjoying the show too?” Rose said, shaking her head slightly as she watched. What the heck could you two be talking about? For a few seconds she saw you talk animatedly then - in unison with Emily - double over in laughter. 

“You know something about this that we don’t?” Alex asked, glancing at the two younger players. 

Rose and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Sonnett’s only over there because we made her,” Lindey said. 

“How?”

“Told her we’d rat her out to Vlatko for the snack incident last camp,” Rose shrugged. Revenge was best served with blackmail. 

“I didn’t know she had a soft side,” Lindsey said after a few minutes. 

“Only a few people actually get to see it,” Kelley shrugged. You were guarded but not heartless. It just took a special touch to break that cast iron shell. 

****

“Okay, okay. So I know a guy who's great at soccer but is super untidy.”

“You do?” You asked, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly nervous. 

“Yeah, he’s just a Messi guy!” Emily said, already laughing on the last word. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I think these are just getting worse,” 

“Oh come on, you were the one who told the one about a frog liking hoppy beer,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I think that one was objectively worse.”

“Whatever you say cutie pie,” you said, leaning forward on your hand. You weren’t usually this interested in conversation. You were more of an… in and out kinda girl. But there was something about Emily that intrigued you. That pulled you in and made you want to know more about her than just her bedroom preferences. 

“Pie sounds so good right now,” Emily said sighing deeply. “I don’t even have a joke to go with that, I just like pie. Although I think I read one at some point for Pi day, I could google it…” 

“I don’t know any jokes either, but I do know a place pretty close to here if you wanted to ditch these losers,” You offered, picking idly at your napkin. 

“Losers? I didn’t know the men’s team was here!” Emily smirked. You didn’t know if she was blowing you off, or just completely missed what you were implying. 

“See that one was actually a good one. Those idiots wouldn’t know how to score if they were shooting at the broadside of a barn,” You shook your head. Half of the women’s team midfield had better finishing stats than all the men’s forwards. They were terrible. 

“Oh come on. They’re not that bad. At least 9% of them are keepers,” Emily laughed. “Well that’s their position anyway. But yes, I would love to go get some pie with you. Just don’t tell Dawn I broke my diet.” 

“No promises Princess,” You said standing, and holding out your hand to the woman. You kissed the back of her hand when she laced her fingers with yours, earning yourself another giggle. 

It made your heart flutter, and you just wanted more. 

“You sure you’re okay missing the end of the party?” Emily said hopefully, scanning as if to make sure no one would waylay you on your way out the door. The last thing she wanted was to get stopped by one of your parade of brunettes. 

“Better than okay. The word happiness might start with an H, but mine starts with U.” 

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader #literalhedgehog

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heart+head(ache), m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Like the seasons, the highs and lows come and go. Unlike the seasons, the lows are unpredictable and multiplicative, because life is not just one aspect, but many. If there's one person that can be your heart, it's Min Yoongi. If there's one person that can occupy your head, it's Jeon Jungkook.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff / comfort, then PWP; smut (fem reader, nipple play, scratching / marking, fingering, hair-pulling, penetrative sex); softdom!Jungkook

this series has always been the personification of Yoongi and Jungkook as my muses. therefore it's not really a story, but rather a glimpse into my emotional state at the time it was written (about two weeks ago). I thought about not posting it, but, hey, you can choose to read it or not. I don't expect anyone to read it, tbh.

--

heartspace!Yoongi - his POV

"Leave me alone."

He sat down, silent, beside the hunched form.

"I can't take it anymore."

The only light came from the desk above them, the laptop screen blaring brightly in the darkness.

"I want to go back to the way it was."

He reached up and touched her knuckles, rubbing his fingertips over them.

"Back when no one knew I existed. Back when no one wanted to get in my head."

Over the silver rings, tracing reach one, decoration and armor, mirroring the outward self that protected the one inside. The fragile one that hid from the outside world. She let him see the fragility in this space, but only in this space. Her nails dug into her skin, tearing it up from the outside as the thoughts inside tore her to shreds.

"I don’t want these wings. I don’t want to fly high."

He waited, quietly, saying nothing, hand on hers. In this space, it was only him and only her.

The heart and the heartless.

"I don’t want to be in this light..."

Her eyes found his and he looked back, into shadowed orbs clouded from struggling for far too long and would continue to do so until she was no more. That was the way of the world, persistent and hurtful for no reason at all.

Time heals all wounds, but some wounds are blind to time, stagnant and frozen.

"I don't know the difference between pretending and not pretending anymore," she whispered, so quietly that he had to strain to hear.

He finally spoke, squeezing that thin hand gently.

"In some ways, they're the same thing for you, aren't they?"

She looked at him for a long, long time.

He lifted his hand from hers and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You are with me,” he murmured. “And with me, you can be anything.”

This face hid behind smoke and mirrors. This face didn’t trust the world and trusted their own reflection even less. The world could pretend to know, but the reality was the depth of the scars was much deeper than anyone could ever fathom and this mind was unlike anyone else’s, too creative for its own good, producing new and intricate tortures for the one that lived within it. Only here, in this space, did he have a glimpse. Even then, he wasn’t sure he would ever see all of it, because that wasn’t necessary and because some shadows should stay in the dark where they belong.

"I can't be like them, Yoongi."

Min Yoongi shook his head.

"They're ordinary. You're special."

"I'm not."

"You know you are, otherwise no one would find solace in knowing you exist."

He held her face in his hands.

"Nameless, faceless, and yet... they flock to the safety of you."

He leaned forward, forehead to forehead.

"Who else can say that? No one. Not even me. Everyone knows my face now."

Into dark, dark eyes full of pain, reaching in, shouldering the weight so it was a little lighter, a little less heavy. He didn’t need to know the reason for the weight. It was there, and so he assisted.

"They'll never know the one I know."

A little despair, a little helplessness, all her.

"I'll never know the one you know."

He kissed her, softly, whispering her name and his love.

“If you think you can’t feel, then I will feel for you. If you ever feel like you don’t have a heart, know that I will be yours. Trust me.”

“Can I?” she breathed against his lips, eyes closed, lost in his taste.

Yoongi chuckled, running his hands through her hair, breathing in the scent of sweet matcha marshmallow, deeper, richer, warmer now that it was soaked into her skin, smooth and soft under his fingertips. She was like that. Everything she touched became more vivid, more alive, more real, even if it was only a fantasy.

“Of course. You are with me.”

He pulled her into his hold, into his lap, both of them still on the floor, cradling her at her lows so he could raise her at her highs.

“However long you need, one day, one week, one month, a year, until the end of time… I will be whatever role you need me to be. Obsession, possession, enemy, protector, muse, lover, one of them or all of them,” he murmured softly, lips on her temple, hand on the left side of her ribcage, cradling that rapid rhythm under his fingertips.

It was easy to say, don’t think about anyone else, but much harder to do so, and thus he didn’t say it. There was no need to. She already knew. That’s why she had retreated in the first place, retreated to the safety of his heart and blocked out the outside world.

“They are but visitors and they should be grateful to visit.”

Her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching the fabric tightly.

“But I am, can, and will be everything you need, if you let me.”

She spoke into his neck, her hot breath wafting over his skin.

“You already are, Yoongi. You already are.”

They stayed like that, for a long, long time.

-

headspace!JK - reader's POV

You opened your bedroom door to find Jeon Jungkook laying on your bed.

His dark brown eyes shifted to you.

You looked away and closed the door.

“Where have you been?”

Every time. Every time you heard his smooth, silvery voice, you were reminded of home, even if he wasn’t always here. Then again, home was never a place to you. Like a permanent resident, Jungkook always managed to find his way to your bed and you, well, you resided with his voice.

“Who knows,” was your answer.

Because, in truth, you didn’t know.

Jungkook tilted his head, pink lips slightly parted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He sat up, watching you, black strands brushing against his dark brows. There was a slight furrow to them, somewhere between disbelief and inquisition. White t-shirt, blue jeans. He hadn’t been here long, otherwise he would have given up on the jeans. His eyes followed you, resting his right arm on his knee, black tattoos standing out against the light wash of the jeans and white-shirt, tan skin the perfect background for them. With the red eyeball tattoo, perhaps it was more accurate to say that three eyes were observing you.

You stood beside the bed but didn’t get on it.

Jungkook let out a soft sigh, the side of his lips quirking up ruefully. “If I was hyung, I would say the right words.” He frowned slightly, chewing on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing into view, a soft kiss from the moon, perfectly placed in the middle. “He always knows what to say.”

You could almost hear that gentle, deep voice murmuring to you, hand on your chest, right above the rapid rhythm below his palm.

You always say it’s nothing when it’s something you know no one will understand.

Jungkook placed his chin on the back of his hand and looked up, catching your eye and pulling you from your thoughts with his voice.

“I don’t know what to say, but I can make you feel.”

You looked back, but still didn’t get on the bed.

“You cut your hair.” It was to his ears now, still black, just shorter.

“Mhm.” He smiled. “Do you not like it?”

You chuckled dryly. “You could be bald, Jungkook, and you would still look good.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Someday I’ll show up like that and then I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

You didn’t laugh or banter back, settling into silence instead. He noticed right away. His features softened and he raised his other hand to beckon you to him.

You didn’t move.

His lips formed to the words and you could tell he meant them because he maintained eye contact, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“I missed you.”

Where have you been?

You placed your hands on the bed, fingers spread, silver rings glinting in the light, lighting each and every one, all except your left pinky. You still hadn’t found the perfect one for that one yet. The three silver necklaces you wore clinked together as you crawled to Jeon Jungkook, mind full of thoughts that fell away one by one, replaced by the sight, sound, smell of Jungkook, tongue remembering his taste, skin prickling, remembering his touch.

“I could have distracted you,” he whispered, leaning forward.

“I wasn’t the best version of myself,” you whispered back, the dull ache of intangible weight pressing down on your ribcage. “I couldn’t see you like that.”

He lifted his right hand from his knee and reached around your head, burying his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer to that face and those eyes, sharp and defined with an endearing softness, lashes lowering, inhaling your scent, lustful satisfaction clouding his gaze as he once again recognized that you had changed it from that spiced, warm chestnut to a heady matcha marshmallow.

“You know,” Jungkook breathed, tugging you to him, his lips brushing against yours. “I am here for all versions of you, good or bad, sad or mad, fallen apart or all in one piece.”

His teeth nipped your lips and your breath caught your throat, knowing he was making you wait, curling his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place.

In this space, with him.

“If your head is full of me, there’s no space for the other thoughts.”

“That’s not how it works, Jungkook.”

“That’s how I want it to work.”

His lips captured yours, firm, intense, hand pulling you to him and his hard body, surrounding you in his embrace, your gasp in his mouth as he pressed you to his chest, pinning you down, forearms flexing against the small of your back, your hands coming up to steady yourself on his shoulders, digging your nails into the thin fabric of the t-shirt. You shivered in his hold, eyes opening slightly, not realizing they had closed, and his were open too, filtered by his lashes.

“I don’t want to go back out there,” you said, so softly that the words didn’t seem real.

“Then don’t,” Jungkook whispered. “Stay with me.”

“You’re not good for me.”

“They’re worse.”

He spread his legs and put you in his lap. You could feel the texture of his jeans through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, thighs on top of his, softness to hardness. His fingers traced the lapel of your pajama shirt and the red piping, smiling at the print, little red devil heads making various faces against the black jersey fabric.

“You’re insufferable.”

The small smile lifted and now it was yours, turning into a smirk. “Yeah, but you love me.”

You stared into those eyes, that face, trapped in his arms, his body, his voice, his sound, everything just Jeon Jungkook, and the hesitation remained. You felt his hand shift, raising, fingertips brushing your cheek, sending shivers up your neck and to his electric touch.

“I couldn’t come back because it didn’t feel right.”

His hand lowered, cradling the side of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw.

“What about now?” Jungkook asked, silvery and sweet.

You told the truth, because the truth was eating away at you.

“I don’t know.”

He turned his head and leaned in, inhaling your exhale, eyes closing.

“I’ll help you know.”

His kiss.

I want to be your everything.

He made you memorize the shape of his lips, made you memorize the weight of his hands, made you memorize the curve of his shoulders and chest, pushing you down on the bed, your hands sliding down and pressed to his chest, palm to his heavy heartbeat, hungry kisses and fleeting tongue teasing you, the lower half of his body pinning yours down. Heavy. Inescapable. You tried to move away to speak but he caught your lips, pulling your back, his left hand peeling your right off his heart and interlocking his fingers with yours, slamming it down on the sheets, his right snaking in between your bodies, undoing the buttons one by one. You cried out into his mouth and he lifted his head, black hair messy, breathing hard.

“J-Jungkook…”

His lips were dark, swollen from kissing you so fiercely, irises shadowed and pupils expanded.

“This is how it should be, with you saying my name like that.”

You glared at him, but he simply chuckled, diving back down again, lips attacking your neck, kisses and bites that made your breath hitch, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, and it didn’t matter, it simply didn’t matter anymore, too many outside thoughts when you could just have Jungkook invading your head, clawing the hem of his shirt upward, digging your nails into his back and his soft skin, his moans on yours, tongue dancing up your trembling throat, biting that space right behind your right ear, your pulse roaring under his lips and your name in his throat, no distractions., only Jungkook.

“My mark belongs all over you,” he growled possessively.

Your nails dragged down his broad back and his hips bucked into yours, his oppressive force and weight a welcome one. You didn’t respond. A single dark brown orb watched your face, smirk against your earlobe. No response needed because Jungkook could see it in your expression and the way you held him, violent but desperate, needing him more than anyone or anything else in this world right now.

“Someday,” he murmured teasingly.

“In your dreams,” you shot back, finding your voice.

“They’re all about you.”

He sat up, thighs straddling you, crossing his arms and pulling up his white t-shirt in one swift stroke, tossing it aside. His lips curved into a sly smile, seeing you bite your lip and narrow your eyes to hide your breathlessness at his muscular and toned torso, the black tattoos of his right arm rippling as he leaned down again, his large hands next to your head, smirk dancing above your face.

“Just like how yours are all about me.”

You didn’t look away. “They’re not.”

Neither did he. “They will be.”

You clicked your tongue.

Unfazed, unbothered, unwise, you pulled Jungkook down to you, closing your eyes, his fresh scent filling your nose, lips on your skin, murmuring, so sweet, so delicious, kissing your collarbones, pushing your shirt off and reaching around you, forcing you to yank your pajama shirt off to avoid getting tangled in it and your unhooked bra, already moving on, lips wrapping around your hard nipple and you felt his eyes on you, opening yours to see his smirk and his tongue flicker, pulses of desire clawing through you, all because of Jungkook.

“What?” you managed to get out, sucking in a breath as his hand came up, fingertips pushing the other hard nub, watching your expression with his tongue extended.

“You belong under me, like this, enjoying everything I do to you,” he murmured, lapping slowly, not enough but still too much with the visual included.

“S… Stop looking at me like that.”

He shook his head slowly, your name falling from his lips, black hair brushing over his brows. You stiffened as his hand slid under the waistband of your shorts, under the thin fabric of your panties, long fingers dancing closer and closer to your heated, dripping core.

“If I look away, you might disappear from me again.”

You were lost, lost in the feeling of Jeon Jungkook.

Brown eyes ensnaring you, drowning your senses with his sensations.

“I can’t have that.”

His lips wrapping around your nipple again, deft fingers slipping inside your pussy, moan drifting from your lips as you raised your hips, shorts and panties sliding down, but Jungkook was already moving, plunging his fingers in fast and rough, sucking hard, tongue teasing the hard tip, other arm wrapped around you and free hand splayed in the small of your back, locking you in his space.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your walls clenched around his fingers, his chuckle vibrating through your nipple, faster, harder, so easy because you were so wet and he was so close, one hand in his hair and the other clutching the sheets, back arching, muscles pulled taut in his touch, thighs unable to close because his own were holding them open, fingers tightening in his short black hair, nails digging into his scalp, breathing hard, not letting him have his favorite sounds, so Jungkook increased the pace, his own fingernails clawing at your back, and your eyelids fluttered, jaw clenching, moan torn from your throat.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

And it all crashed down, fierce blossoming pleasure overtaking your veins, pitch hiking as his fingers stilled and his thumb pressed to your clit, fuck, don’t, but he did, he did because you pulled him even closer, chest to chest, his triumphant pants against your neck, hand sliding up your back, pushing your head down, taking your lips and your scream as you came again, all over his hand, tight pulsating walls clenching around his fingers, the scent of sex painting the air and his palm, covering him with you.

“Fuck…!”

You broke the kiss, hand wrapping around his forearm, squeezing hard, taut muscle pushing you back, tattoos peeking out from beneath your fingertips, staring into his eyes, time stopping, slow circles on your most sensitive spot, his blown-out pupils reflecting yours, skin to skin, heart racing against his.

“What?” Jungkook panted. “Tell me.”

His brown orbs searching your face, shrouded by lashes, desire so obvious that it was tangible and palpable.

“Want you.”

His lips curved into a smug smile.

“Yeah? Say it again.”

Your hands left his hair and his arm, reaching between your bodies, still gazing into his eyes.

“Want you, Jungkook. Want you to fuck me.”

His forehead touched yours as the button came undone, his hair sticking to your face, both sweaty from the intensity.

“I really missed you more than the words,” he mumbled against your cheek, helping you push his pants down, skin to hot skin, kicking them off the bed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jungkook.”

“You are if you don’t believe me.”

You stilled, holding the condom out and Jungkook took it from you, ripping it open, cocking an eyebrow defiantly as he rolled it down his hard length, nudging your thighs.

“You… You’re just here to annoy me.”

Your eyes shifted away and you felt him pick up your legs, pushing them up, hooking them over his shoulders. One of his hands cupped your chin and tugged you back to face him, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said softly.

You gasped sharply as he gripped your chin, holding you in place as he slid in, setting his jaw at your tightness, both of you shuddering at the feeling of your pussy surrounding his cock, feeling it swell inside you and get harder, stretching you out, his determination nearing as he leaned down, bending you in half, hand leaving your chin and pressing his palms flat against your sheets, breathing hard as he shoved himself the rest of the way in, a little pain but so much pleasure, soft thighs against his hard torso, your breath mixing with his, hot and heavy and sweet despite how firmly he had you pinned down.

“I want your head full of me,” Jungkook sighed, slowly rolling his hips into you, making you gasp. “You’ll never have a bad thought if I’m occupying that space.”

“Fuck, you can’t… ah, that’s not how it w-works, Jungkook…”

He was using his weight to drive his thrust, powerful and intense, ramming his hips into you, your juices leaking out and sticking to his crotch, the inside of your joined thighs slick and wet, loud slaps echoing throughout the bedroom, stiff length so hard you could feel it twitch inside your pussy, hitting you as deep and as rough as you liked, probably too much for the normal person, but not you, because you wanted to feel it all, wanted Jungkook to really fuck you and not be gentle about it, grabbing his hair and smacking your hips up to meet his, making you both moan loudly, names mixing with the visceral sounds of sex.

“I’ll just keep fucking you then,” Jungkook hissed. “Keep fucking you and make you feel so good that nothing else matters, nothing except how good I can make you feel.”

You looked up, your silver rings glinting in his black hair, your silver necklaces cutting into your neck and the three coin-shaped pendants jingling and clinking in rhythm with the mattress bouncing under your bodies, pressure and pleasure building inside your core, struggling to breathe as you glanced down and watched him enter and reenter, thick cock slick and hard before disappearing inside you.

“A-Ah…”

Back to his eyes, nearly black from arousal, groaning as you came around him, throbbing walls squeezing his entire length, feeling it all with every pulse.

“You’re gonna have to f-fuck me harder… than t-this…”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You got it.”

You threw your head back at the first smack, clutching his head, feeling it all over, pleasure like rushing fire, eating up all your nerves and replacing it with sound and touch, the swift squelch of his length plunging into you, the feeling of him filling you up and taking your breath away, so good you could barely breathe, so good you could barely think, nothing but the feel of Jungkook towering over you and slamming down into you so you could thrust your hips up to meet him, so close, so close, heavy exhales blending together, skin and nerves prickling, humming with ecstasy, feeling so good you could only moan his name, and he groaned yours, right in your face, edge of desperation in his normally controlled, deep voice..

“Cum, yes, cum for me – fuck!”

And it all crashed down, fierce fire rocketing through you and hitting its peak, gasping as you smacked your hips up and clenched all around his cock in rapid throbs, his moan washing over you, jerking and flinching as he came in strong jolts, rutting his hips into yours to feel it all, shifting the head inside you so your muscles massaged him all over and drained his orgasm out.

“Jungkook… fuck…”

He lifted his arms and lowered your legs, hands coming up to hold your face, tipping your lips up to him, kissing them deeply.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, staring at you through his lashes. “It hurts when you don’t come to me.”

He kissed you again and again, your words wisping out between them.

“I…”

Feeling sorry there wasn’t another way.

“I have to get through it myself… It wasn’t you… You didn’t do anything…”

Jungkook collected you in his embrace, breath becoming one with yours.

“Yeah, but I can do something, so I need you to give me the chance.”

His eyes were telling you, you don’t have to go back out there. Stay. Stay with me, in this bedroom, in this space, just you and me. Your hand was against his temple, silver rings against his silver brow piercing, tracing his sharp features, feeling airless as you looked into those dark brown orbs and listened to his voice that seemed to be a permanent resident of your thoughts.

“Keep me with you, always.”

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoonkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

[ageofevermore]

Lights Up

summary → in which Harry hates that the two of you can’t enjoy a night on the town without the blinding lights of paparazzi 

word count → 1.3k

warning(s) → mentions of the current pandemic, mask wearing if that somehow triggers you, the slightest implication of paternal guilt, parenting is hard folks

request → @gwen-and-harry ‘could you possibly do a fic where maybe they get swarmed with paps and they try to cover goldie’s face or something and get defensive??’

add yourself to my taglist

In all honesty, you should have expected this. It was never ideal, but it was the life of an up and rising music celebrity who happened to fall away from the public eye for months. You couldn't deny that the time Harry spent locked away with you and Goldie was blissful, but it had lead to a craze of deprived fans and entertainment outlets practically putting a bounty on his head. That's how you ended up here, outside of Nobu with Goldie and an enraged Harry, desperate to keep the flashing lights from yours and her eyes.

It started earlier that afternoon, when Harry had proposed a date night with you and the little love. You had flown out to Malibu weeks ago through a private airline, Harry hoping to maintain some level of secrecy with you and Goldie. He had rented a beach front property for the weeks leading into September, ready to spend countless dusks and dawns with the both of you. Well, your visit to America was coming to an end within the month, and Harry figured you might as well take advantage of the high class restaurants nearby.

You had booked a seven-thirty dinner reservation, and had specifically asked for a table in the back and a need-to-know status. You wanted nothing slipping through the cracks of the industry, and yet somehow that had happened anyway despite the high end service Nobu was providing you with.

Harry was bent down over Goldie's high chair when you noticed the first glint of silver in the distance, contracting the warm tone yellow and golden hues of Nobu's known aesthetic. Your baby was nearly asleep on herself, little fingers and face a mess of overpriced chocolate from the ice cream and cake you had spooned her. Harry had brought a wipe down to her, shushing her whines and wiggles while he cleaned up her sticky features. When he pulled her out of the seat and into his lap, you noticed a definite ruffle in the bushes. At first your heart stopped with the irrational thought of a violent ambush, but when a camera came into view and your worry turned to anger.

"You alright, Petal?" He asked, adorning green pools looking you over with worry. Your loose features had tightened considerably since ordering a round of coffee. His gaze broke when Goldie shifted against his chest, little hand pushing into his suit and laying against his skin, but you knew you still had his attention. He had a way of multi-tasking when it came to the two of you.

"There's a bunch of them outside." You enlightened, eyes looking over your fussy baby who was trying to get comfortable against her father's expensive suit. The sight of her always calmed you, but that was proving unsuccessful now. "We should go before she's asleep and they wake her."

The idea of so many flashing lights in your daughters face was unsettling, and entirely intrusive. She was untouched by the traces of harsh media, shared through approved pictured and short clips. You hadn't prepared for such an invasive encounter yet.

Harry didn't object, thankful that the bill had been paid when your round of desert was cleared from the table. He flagged down the nearest waiter, asking for the coffee to be forgotten, and with a vote of confidence for the both of you, stood from the table. His hand found the small of your back quickly, leading you through the restaurant with a clenched jaw and tight hold around Goldie.

"Her eyes, Harry." You reminded softly, uneasy when his hand left your back and instead went to your daughters head, pushing her face into his neck gently. The both of you were lucky enough to have masks covering the majority of your face, concealing the anger written across your locked jaws, but Goldie didn't. You faintly heard her whine at the shift of temperature when the glass doors were pushed open, but Harry shushed her quickly with a few pats on the back.

It had taken only moments for the dark streets of Malibu to light up with white flashes. Your eyes watered at the abrupt change in lighting, and unconsciously your arms locked around Harry's bicep. He looked down at you quickly, flexing his muscles beneath your hold as a way of reassurance. His hand was still holding Goldie's face to his neck, knowing your baby was as curious as he was.

Harry cursed beneath his breath when a particular flash blinded him, sending a deep fluttering sensation through his stomach when he couldn't make out a clear path towards the car. You knew he never liked feeling trapped, or like he couldn't get the lot of you to privacy quickly and safely. It also didn't help that despite the masks, the paps were not abiding by social distancing guidelines.

"We've got a baby, mate. Can you please back up?" You called softly, maternal instincts blazing at the sight of four or five media outlets treating you and Harry as nothing more then paychecks. You were sure a high resolution snap of Goldie was worth all the same as one of you, which was borderline infuriating.

You had chosen this life at seventeen years old, Harry just a year younger. You had both grown up in dainty English towns, wholesome experiences and tight budgets with a clear and chosen career path in sight. That was everything you had dreamed of sharing with your children, and yes, Harry had built an empire for himself and invited you along, but it meant that in times of desperate privacy you were denied. The industry came with just as many losses as it did wins, if not more.

Goldie let out a strangled whine, nose running along Harry's collarbone as she wiggled. It was nearing nine forty-five, hours after her seven o'clock bedtime, so you weren't surprised by her irritated huffs and whimpers. Usually, she could fall asleep anywhere, but it would be hard for anyone to sleep through the blinding flashes and camera shutters.

"Daddy's got ya, moppet." Harry's voice traveled smoothly through your memory, his light kisses to her crown not doing the trick anymore as gentle cries bubbled in her chest. That was all it took for Harry to see red, barely keeping his head on straight as the photographers acted as though they were heartless.

Harry had an understanding for their line of work, but that didn't mean he was any less appreciative towards their invasive tendencies. He knew that sometimes you were desperate for a paycheck, that these men had families at home they were trying t support. But, hardly ever did they show any compassion towards his own family. "Shh, come on now, Goldie. You're okay." He mumbled, lifting her higher in his arms, making sure to keep her eyes away from the flashes.

"Seriously, give us some space." Your words were coated in venom as you reached up to adjust the mask over your nose, feeling less then protected by the close proximity of frantic strangers.

Maybe it was the edge to your tone, or just that they'd maxed out their storage, but all at once the crown dispersed around the pair of you. You were left with a few stragglers, but they were respectful in a sense that they abided by the CDC requested guidelines of six or more feet apart. The flashes didn't start when you got to the rented black SUV, though you were thankful for the tinted windows.

Harry managed to get Goldie into her car seat with only a few tears, and once the door was closed it was like a weight from within you was lifted. You climbed into the passenger seat, looking over at Harry when he closed the drivers side door and breathed out deeply and guiltily.

"Hey," You whispered, laying a hand on his and searching in the darkness for the gentle green of her endless pools. "It's not your fault. It's never your fault."

#fine line #fine line series #dad!harry #Harry Styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #goldie styles #this ending is kinda rushed pls don't come for me #i wanted to get this out bc ive been promising it for weels

[ticklygiggles]

It’s not coal! | UshiDai

Merry belated Christmas, @ragewerthers

Oh my goodness, I can’t write fastly. BUT I hope you enjoy this little gift, my friend! I hope you had a lovely Christimas and I hope next year comes with nothing but goos things for you and I hope we can still talk about our sweet boys together and daily life matters! I hope you enjoy this!!

Words: 2k

Summary: Daichi finds a terribly upset Ushijima when he arrives from work. The reason? He’s not sure, but there’s coal in a tray?

---

"I am back!" Daichi announced, letting out a pleased sight when the warmth of his home protected him from the freezing cold outside. He stepped out of his shoes,(making sure to leave them perfectly lined because he didn’t want to get scolded), and frowned when he didn’t hear an answer.

“Toshi?” He asked as he walked into the living room. “Are you home?”

“Welcome back. I’m here,” Ushijima answered and Daichi beamed when he saw him sitting on the couch. 

“There you are! Are you alright? What are you doing- what are those… pieces of coal?” He asked, frowning again when he approached Ushijima and found him staring at a tray with coal in it. 

He was surprised when Ushijima gasped and turned his head to look at him with the most offended expression ever. Daichi instinctively raised his hands in defense. 

“They’re not coal! They’re… they’re Christmas cookies…”

"What?” Daichi tilted his head to the side as he looked at the… Christmas cookies. “They don't look like cookies…”

"Now, stop being so mean.”

"No no! I'm sorry," he chuckled softly. "It's not that, it's just that... You're good at cooking, how did this happen?"

"Well..." A bright smile spreaded over Daichi's lips when a pink blush crept up Ushijima’s cheeks. "Earlier... you and me were messaging and I got... too distracted and didn't hear the oven, so they burned,” he explained sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with Daichi.

"Is it my fault now?” He teased playfully as he sat down beside Ushijima and grabbed his hand. "C'mere," he mumbled and gently pulled at Ushijima's hands, inviting him to place himself into his lap. 

Ushijima blushed softly and Daichi smiled softly when Wakatoshi allowed him to manhandle him a little until he was straddling Daichi's lap: his hands over Daichi's shoulders. 

Daichi wrapped his arms around Ushijima’s waist and looked up at him with a smile, his nose nuzzling against Ushijima's. 

"It was not. I was the one distracted,” Ushijima said with a little sight.

“Are you sad?”

“Mn. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh?” Daichi raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Yesterday night, you said that you missed your mom making christmas cookies for you, so I thought… I could make some for you, but they didn’t turn out well.”

Daichi blinked a couple of times, trying to digest what Ushijima just said to him. He almost didn’t remember he said that the night before while they were watching a Christmas movie and a lady was baking cookies. Daichi probably forgot about it as soon as he said it, but Ushijima… he not only remembered it but also tried to bring Daichi’s happy memories back to life by making cookies for him. 

He just couldn’t understand how people, (even himself back in time), could think that Ushijima was a heartless person - Daichi thought that, in fact, Ushijima had the biggest of hearts, ever and Daichi’s own heart soared with happiness at the thought of they being a couple and that he had the chance to love, love, love him so much, so tenderly.

“Oh, Toshi.” He swore Ushijima’s lip was puckered out just a little bit in a tiny pout. “You’re so good to me,” he said tenderly, stealing a kiss to Ushijima’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. They didn’t turn out well,” Ushijima said with sad eyes and even though Daichi felt his heart clenching at how much this affected his lover, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable he looked. 

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled, kissing the corner of Ushijima’s mouth. “I can definitely eat those coal piec- those cookies.”

“Don’t tease me!” Ushijima said and Daichi laughed softly. 

“I’m joking, Toshi,” he chuckled with a playful smile as he kissed the little frown forming between Ushijima’s eyebrows. “Don’t be so upset, love. It makes me feel so happy that you tried doing this because you knew they meant something to me. I love you so much.”

He kissed Ushijima’s lips again, lingering a little longer when he felt him relaxing between his arms, even moving his hands to cup Daichi’s cheeks and gently angle his head just the way they both liked it, to kiss him a little deeper. 

When they pulled apart, they were a little breathless and Daichi smiled warmly when he saw Ushijima’s dazed eyes staring back at him. It made his heart flutter to know that Ushijima loved kissing so much, he always had that dizzy expression on him whenever they kissed and it was one of the many things that Daichi loved about him.

Ushijima looked relaxed now, blushy and soft, so Daichi thought that he was feeling better now, but he suddenly turned his head to look at the cookies laying in their little table and sadness filled his eyes again. 

Daichi shook his head as he purred a desaprovatory sound, making Ushijima look back at him; Daichi processed to kiss Ushijima’s cheeks, his lips and nose, and then started to pepper tiny kisses all over his face and he smiled brightly when he felt Ushijima’s lips curling in a soft smile. 

“Hmm? Do I see a smile?” He said, nuzzling Ushijima’s cheek with his nose. 

“No,” was the stubborn answer and Ushijima moved his head to hide his face against Daichi’s neck. "It's a little ticklish," Ushijima admitted and Daichi smiled brightly, leaning against the back of the couch and pressing Ushijima against his chest. 

"Oh? Is it?" He asked softly. "It made you smile, though. Maybe I should tickle you so you're not sad anymore?"

He felt Ushijima tensing and slowly, almost scared of Daichi attacking him, raised his head to look at him. "D-Don't you dare," Ushijima warned him.

Daichi could only smile even more at seeing the corners of Ushijima's mouth trembling, trying to hold back a nervous smile. "Okay, fine. Are you not upset anymore?"

"I am," Ushijima admitted immediately. "I really wanted to make you happy a-ahahahaand- ahahaha wait!" 

Daichi was a bit surprised when he felt Ushijima’s hands grabbing his shoulders, pushing at him softly as he threw his head back with a loud, bright giggle when Daichi’s warm fingers started tracing his lower back. 

“Oh, now you’re smiling!” Daichi said, laughing softly at seeing Ushijima’s cheeks turning pink as his fingers scribbled at his lower back, fingertips fluttering too close to his sides, making Ushijima shiver.

Ushijima squeaked, one hand moving up to cover his mouth. “N-Nohohot tihihihickling! Lehehehet me be sahahahad!” He giggled out, trying to arch against Daichi to escape the light tickling. 

“What! No! I don’t like seeing you sad, it makes me sad too,” Daichi said, pouting for only a few seconds before grinning at his laughing boyfriend. 

He pulled out one hand from under Ushijima’s shirt to gently remove Wakatoshi’s hand away from his mouth. “Don’t cover it, I want to see you’re not pouting anymore.”

“I wahahasn’t pouting,” Ushijima said, giggling softly at just one hand tickling his back. “I just… I really wanted to surprise you,” he said and Daichi’s eyes softened when Ushijima pouted again, that sad look taking over his features one more time.

It really pained him to see him so sad over something like that, but it made his heart swell to know that Ushijima was trying his best to make him happy. So, it was his duty to make his lovely boyfriend see that Daichi appreciated the gesture, but first…

“N-Nohohoho!” More surprised giggles escaped Ushijima’s mouth as Daichi started to squeeze up and down his sides, making him spasm and squeal.

“I think I’ll have to tickle you until you stop being upset, Wakatoshi,” Daichi said, grinning widely as he clawed up Ushijima’s sides toward his ribs. 

This action made Ushijima let out a high pitched squeak as his attempts to get away became more desperate. 

Daichi laughed, having trouble keeping Ushijima pinned against him. "What's wrong? Could it be that I'm close to a sensitive spot?" He teased, his fingers moving dangerously close to Ushijima's lower ribs. "Are you still upset?" He asked, stopping just one centimeter away from Ushijima's ribs. 

Ushijima shivered heavily and he giggled nervously as he tried to catch his breath. "A- A little…" he said sincerely, his eyes flickering to where the pieces of co- the cookies were.

"Okay, then we'll have to go the hard way," Daichi said, holding Ushijima's waist and gently pushing him against the couch, his body pinning Ushijima down. 

"D-Daichi? Daichi, I thinkAHAHAHA!" Ushijima let out a sudden cackle when Daichi's fingers found his lower ribs and his thumbs started to massage deep and gentle circles against the sensitive bones. 

Ushijima arched his back up as his legs kicked out. He tried to grab Daichi's hands, but Daichi easily grabbed one of his wrists and pinned it over his head. 

"Oh no," Daichi teased. "Wakatoshi is all exposed now!" He purred, his free hand vibrating against Ushijima’s lower ribs and easily shooing away Wakatoshi’s hand trying to protect himself. “What to do!”

Daichi giggled when Ushijima shook his head, his hand weakly trying to save his poor ribs from his evil fingers, but he was already growing weak and his laughter was getting louder and louder as he squirmed and jolted every time Daichi found a sensitive spot along his ribs, making Ushijima shriek when he focused there for too long. 

“CHAHAHANGE- chahahange spohohahahats!” Ushijima begged, feeling his mind going fuzzy by the intense sensation over his ribs. 

Daichi laughed as his fingers slowed down to let Ushijima catch his breath. “Change spots? To where? Here?” He asked and his hand immediately moved up to wiggle against Ushijima’s armpit. 

Ushijima gasped and widened his eyes before tightly shutting them as he threw back his head. “NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!” He laughed with the loudest of belly laughs, his back arching off the couch and up against Daichi.

“Oh? Did I find a good spot?” Daichi asked, totally aware that that was Ushijima’s ultimate worst spot. “And what do you mean ‘not there’? Didn’t you ask me to move away from your ribs?”

Ushijima nodded because he did, but he didn’t think Daichi was going to be a butt and move to attack his exposed under arm!

“It- Ihihihit tihihickles t-too muhuhahahach!” He laughs hysterically.

“I bet it does, I’m sure it will make you stop being upset, don’t you think?” 

Ushijima could only shake his head back and forth, feeling the electrifying sensation spreading to his ribs as Daichi started to vibrate the tips of his fingers against Ushijima’s armpit. 

“Ohmygahahahahad! Anywheheehahaha! Anyw-wehere but THEHEHERE!” He begged, weakly pulling at his trapped arm and trying to cover his underarm with his free hand. 

“Anywhere but here? But I like this spot and look how exposed it is! Your armpit must like getting tickled by me, right Toshi?”

“Nahahaht thahahat!” Wakatoshi howled with hysterical laughter as those fingers kept vibrating against his poor underarm.

“Are you still upset?”

Ushijima nodded as his laughter became a little wheezy.

“What? Are you lying because you want me to keep tickling you?” He teased, but then his big grin freezed when Ushijima’s face turned a bright shade of red after hearing Daichi’s words.

So.. he did like it?

“Oops,” he chuckled softly as Ushijima’s laughter finally became silent and he could only hear soft snorts burning in the back of his nose. “I think that’s enough.”

Daichi stopped painfully slowly, until he was just lightly brushing his fingers over Ushijima’s armpit and he was giggling hysterically. 

“I’ll ask one more time, Toshi,” Daichi mumbled with a bright smile. “Are you upset?” 

Wakatoshi shook his head, still unable to talk as the soft tickling to his armpits kept driving him crazy. 

“Oh, good! Then I think it worked!” Daichi said excitedly as he stopped his assault and let go of Ushijima’s wrists. “Too tired?” He asked, when Ushijima didn’t lower his arm immediately.

“Y-You ahahare ehehevil,” Ushijima giggled breathlessly, tears of laughter clinging to his lashes, eyes half closed, a little sleepy, a pink blush covering his cheeks and a lazy smile playing at his lips. 

He looked extremely beautiful and Daichi could only look at him with nothing but adoration.

“I love you,” he whispered and he almost didn’t see the blush spreading across Ushijima’s cheeks as he leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. 

“Tell you what,” Daichi said after they pulled apart, his nose nuzzling against Ushijima’s. “What about we both try to make some cookies together, hmm?” He smiled brightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

Ushijima smiled back at him, almost stealing Daichi’s breath away. “Sounds good.”

Daichi giggled softly. “Good, but first-” he leaned down to kiss Ushijima again and Ushijima wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck, bringing him close until their teeth were clashing against each other and Daichi pressed a knee between Ushijima’s legs and the baking had to be done later on, after a warm bath and playful pokes and squeezes here and there.

And now, every time Daichi looked at Christmas cookies, he could only think about Ushijima’s pouty face and his laughter echoing around their home, and that was also a good memory to keep forever.

#Haikyuu!! #UshiDai #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Sawamura Daichi #ticklish!Ushijima #MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)​

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<-- Previous - Next -->

Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened. 

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

><

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!” 

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze. 

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and  authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

><

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

><

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker. 

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that. 

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,” replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

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A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

#exowritersnet #baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun au #baekhyun policeman #baekhyun smut #exo smut #exo angst #exo fluff #CB #mywritings

[ketchup-monthly]

Night Talks - Chapter 2 Bonus

Loceit (post-relationship)

TWs: self-deprecation, flower mention

They were having a quiet night in, laying together in Janus’ bed, reading, when Logan remembered something he had been meaning to ask Janus for months. He and Janus were in their night clothes, Logan in a pair of shorts and t-shirt, and Janus in a set of gold silk pajamas, with the shorter one laying on Logan’s chest, head turned to the side, looking at his e-reader. Putting a bookmark in his book to mark his page and setting the book down on the nightstand, he placed his hands around Janus’ waist.

“Are you prepared to sleep?” Janus looked up from his book, glancing at him, mismatched eyes sparkling behind blue light glasses.

He shook his head. “I have a question for you, my dear.”

While Logan felt that it may have been underhanded, asking him a personal question in the one room where he can’t lie, it was something that had been weighing on him in the back of his mind.

Janus turned off the e-reader and removed his glasses, leaning further over Logan to place them on top of the book on the side table. He settled back down on his chest, smiling at him. “Of course, love. Ask away.”

“Do you still have that deck of cards that we played gin with?”

“Yes.” He snapped his fingers, materializing the cards in his hand.

Logan took the deck and shuffled through it, taking out the jokers, and one of every face card and an ace. He looked over them again, checking to see if they were the same as they were on that day.

“Why do you ask?” Janus set his chin onto his folded hands, eyebrow cocked.

Logan showed him which cards he had taken from the rest. “I recognize the flowers on these cards, but I am afraid I’m not sure what the meaning of each of them is. Could you tell me, dearest?”

“Of course. Which card would you like me to explain first?”

Logan held up the jokers. “This one has Roman holding a red rose and Remus holding a rhododendron. I know that red roses signify romance, but what do rhododendrons symbolize? And this one has amaryllis and angelica.”

Janus smiled a bit before talking. “Roman is Thomas’ romantic, fanciful side, hence the rose, however he is also Thomas’ ego. Amaryllis means pride. Remus, as goofy as he may act, still poses a threat. Despite that, he also shares the mantle of creativity. Rhododendrons mean danger or beware and angelica mean inspiration.”

“You think Roman is prideful.”

“You do as well, love. I also think that Remus is inspirational. He deserves to hear that more, and not just from me.”

Logan caressed his scaled cheek. “He would believe you, no matter what any of the rest of us say to him.”

“I guess. Shall I explain Patton’s next?”

He excitedly switched the cards in his hand. “White camellia, blue hydrangea, white jasmine, and forget me nots. A very beautiful mix; you have a very good eye.”

“You flatter me. I am colorblind in my left eye.”

Gaze sweeping across Janus’ face, he smiled. “Fascinating.”

He cleared his throat. “White camellias mean you’re adorable, hydrangeas mean gratitude for being understood, while blue ones signify frigidity and heartlessness. White jasmine is sweet love and amiability, and forget-me-nots are, quite aptly, do not forget me.”

Logan thought for a second, placing together what Janus and Patton had gone through together. “He was one of the first to truly accept you in front of Thomas, and is widely considered the sweetest of us. However, he is not always like that, shown through his interactions with Remus. You are thankful that he understood you, and want him to remember that. You are also on good terms with him, but feel hurt that he cannot accept Remus as he has you, and still hold that grudge.”

“Brilliant as always, love.”

He pointed to the jack. “What about Virgil? White clover, red columbine, edelweiss, and coriander.”

“Think of me, anxious and trembling, course and devotion, and hidden worth. What do you think that means when put together?”

“This was just after Virgil had joined us on the other side, so you were missing him. You think very highly of Virgil, and believe that he is more than just ‘Anxiety’, you believe him to be strong, able to stand up, if not for himself, for Thomas, at the very least. You understand that separation from you was for the best for him, but you don’t want him to ignore and block you out forever.”

Janus nodded. “He had good times here as well as bad. I don’t want him to live for the rest of his life remembering me as what he thought I was when he left.”

“And my card? The king? Why am I the king? Not that I’m complaining, my dear, I’m just curious because we were not together at the time.”

“You deserve to be someone’s king, both then and now.”

Logan leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

Janus pushed the blush off of his right cheek. “Blue hyacinth means constancy, violet means watchfulness, modesty, and faithfulness, clematis means mental beauty, rosemary means remembrance, and savory means interest.”

This time, Logan blushed. The cards were created long before he and Janus had chosen to pursue romantic endeavors, and yet this was still what Janus thought of him.

“And—ahem—and this means…?”

The man on his chest reached a hand out to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “I find you to be exquisite, inside and out, not only your brain. Your memory is uncanny, you are so very loyal, even to those who may not always deserve that faith that you place in them, and while you see and know so much, you remain humbled. You’re stable, never changing for the negative, remaining by Thomas’ side even when he doesn’t believe he needs you there. And I find myself very interested in you, my love.”

“That’s beautiful, Janus.” He took Janus’ hand and pressed it to his lips. “And yours, my queen? Snapdragon, anemone, belladonna, black-eyes susan, lavender, and bittersweet?”

At this, he went from looking into Logan’s eyes, as he had been since they started talking, to looking to the side, a frown on his face. “Deception and graciousness, forsaken, silence, justice, distrust, and truth.”

His words were barely audible, shame clinging to every syllable.

“Darling, that can’t be what you think of yourself.” Logan’s brow furrowed and he squeezed Janus’ hand softly.

He still didn’t look up. “It’s all I’m good for. I lie, I silence others for my own gain, while I pursue justice, I don’t do it in a way that will help others. The rest of you still don’t trust me fully, after all, I am just a liar. I know the truth, I am the truth, but I am stuck in a gray area between that and deception, never fully filling either. I can act as polite as I please, but Roman and Virgil, and even Patton, still cannot look me in the face and believe what I mean. Thomas still doesn’t trust me. I’m stuck.”

Logan reached up and placed his hands on the sides of Janus’ face, gently turning him back to face him, wiping away tears. “That’s illogical and it’s not true. It may be true to you because you could say it in here, but it certainly isn’t true to me, or Virgil, or Thomas, or anyone else. Yes, you represent deception, but you also represent some facet of truth. Thomas needs you as much as he needs Patton, Roman, or myself. I believe you, I know when you’re telling the truth or lying, and understand the meaning behind what you say. So can Remus, and Virgil.”

Janus sniffed. “Virgil doesn’t, that’s why he left me.”

He shook his head, making sure Janus could see into his eyes, and could see that he was being truthful. “Virgil does know. He was hitting his rebellious phase, he was filling his role more. He got caught up in his own head, tricking himself into believing the opposite of what you meant, and that was making him more anxious than usual. That caused him to lash out in anger or isolate himself to give him a chance to calm down. You are not responsible for what happened to Virgil. He made his own choices. He still cares for you, all of us do, even Roman, but they don’t know you well enough now to be able to show you that they care.”

“But my powers—”

“Your powers are meant to protect Thomas. Yes, at times they can be used to cover up the truth, but the truth can often be ugly and harmful. The mission you have given yourself, keeping Thomas honest to himself, while the others cannot see it, I can. Thomas can. Your pursuit of justice within Thomas, it keeps him going, keeps him from breaking down over things that build up. You are as perfect as you can be, in fulfilling your role, in handling your relationships with us, in almost everything you do and are. You may not believe that about yourself now, but I will spend every day for the rest of our lives making sure you know what I believe.”

More tears spilled out of Janus’ eye, and he hiccuped quietly, rubbing at his face over Logan’s hand, trying to dry his wet cheeks. “You really believe that.”

“I do. And you believe so much about the others, in their strengths. Let yourself believe in you too.” Logan caressed Janus’ cheek with his thumb.

He buried his face in Logan’s neck, wiggling forward before relaxing more than he was. Taking a deep breath, he spoke again, in a small, cracking voice. “Can we sleep now?”

“Of course.” Logan took his glasses off and placed them next to the book, turning off the light. He wrapped his arms around the still trembling form of his partner and settled in.

He was going to make sure that Janus knew how much he meant to everyone, and even if that meant actually talking to the others about speaking to him, showing him that he wasn’t just meant for one single thing, then that’s what Logan would do. In the morning, though, because now he had someone dozing on him, someone who needed sleep as much as he did.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #loceit #ts loceit #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts c!thomas #tw self deprecation #s.s. loceit #ketchup writes #tw flowers

[bakubaewritings]

Home

Bakugo x reader angst/fluff

warning - broken down Bakugo, mental breakdown, sleeping pills, trigger warning, and language

word count 2,541

Love is the feeling of being home when you're not.

That's how you felt when you and Bakugo started dating. Everything was great. You were head over heels in love with the explosive pro hero. After your school years at UA, you and Bakugo finally decided to make it official. Since the beginning, Bakugo had made it clear to you his ambitions, and you respected that his hero work came first. You supported him fully; you told your career was important to you as well. You were a hero, too, though you were a rescue hero. You worked in more in the day time; your quirk involved socking up rays of the sun to heal.

You broke all your walls for him, but Bakugo never did the same, despite you being together for a year. You got close to getting him to tell you that he loved you, but he couldn't say it, and you understood why. Bakugo was very reserved, and you respected that. The most intimate thing you two had ever done was move in together since his apartment was close to both your agencies. Since you were often home before Bakugo, your quirk not being very useful after sundown, you always made dinner for him to eat when he came home later from patrols. Sometimes you'd wake up to help him care for him. In the morning as well, you'd wake up extra early to make him breakfast and kiss him good morning before going to work.

However, the relationship began to become very strained. You were never demanding that Bakugo take a break from his hero work, never asked him to stay home with you. However, when Bakugo began trading breakfast for morning gym workouts was when you decided to tell him how you felt. You were never the confrontational type, but you only ever saw Bakugo when you woke up in the middle of the night to see him sleeping next to you. He had also been growing increasingly distant from you in the last few months. When you had found the time to talk, Bakugo just gave you the cold shoulder, telling you to stop nagging him. You sought out advice from Kirishima and Izuku, feeling like you had no one else to turn to.

"You have to talk to him Y/n, tell him how you miss him. Be honest, I've known Kacchan for years, and he may be mean, but he loves you if you tell him how you feel he'll listen." Midoriya's words of advice encouraged you.

"Bakugo's just really hard at getting close to people, but he does love you." Were Kirishima's words

The Alarm rang at 5 am, and Bakugo groggily stood from the bed. You woke up with after him grabbing his wrist before he could get up. The sun was barely even up yet, "Suki." You called out, tugging him towards you. He looked over his shoulder; his face was far from happy. A scowl formed on his face, eyebrows sunk over his vermillion eyes.

"What? I have to get to the gym." You rose from bed slowly, your eyes glossy at his harsh tone.

"Suki, I miss you, can we please talk." His face contorted as he let out a scoff. You looked at him confused, why was he acting so cold? You asked yourself.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand since your a C class hero, but I have to be at my best to beat that fucking Deku and Shoto and become number 1." He was now facing away from you; he pulled his wrist away roughly from your grasp.

"C- Class Hero?" You raised an eyebrow, your hands balled into fists, collecting the sheets over you.

"Yeah, a C- class hero! Unlike you, I'm important, I have a job to do, and I have to be in the best shape for it." He turned around his face so close to yours as he yelled in your face. Your lip quivered, how could he be so heartless. Tears began to stream down your face.

"I don't have time for this shit."

You looked at him"I can't believe you, I wanted to talk to you, to fix what was wrong in our relationship because I love you and I want to make us work, but you're just an asshole."

"You're what's wrong."

Your eyebrows arched in confusion, "excuse me?"

"You are what's wrong; you come into my life bringing all your shit feelings with you expecting me to fix your problems, you move in here filling my space with your shit. Then you fucking expect me to say I love you, well I don't, and I never will, you're a nuisance." Tears streamed down your face like waterfalls.

"Then I'm sorry for wasting your fucking time." You stood up, "I'm sorry I ever fell in love with you." You screamed at him. Bakugo jut stood up grabbed his gym bag and left, and when he came home, you and your things were gone.

.

.

.

That was two months ago, you had moved out and found yourself staying in your old apartment. You stayed away from Bakugo, who made no effort to contact you. After a year of being together, you couldn't believe it had ended this way. There were many times where you find yourself crying on Mina's couch or during girls night at Ochaco's, but after a while, you realized how strong you were strong, and no matter how much Bakugo hurt you, you knew how good it would feel to see him swallow his words when he saw you again. You were not going to let his words hurt you because you knew you were no C class hero. You spent those two months working on yourself because for the first time in a year you were putting your own needs first. Now you did miss Bakugo extremely, you had gotten so used to him. Sure the last few months were tough, but you missed the good times. "let's go out tonight, Y/N; we can go can you karaoke bar!" Mina's excitement was prominent in her voice. "Yeah, and wear your matching UA Sweater!" Sero's voice called from the background. You giggled. "Alright, I'll catch you guys later." You hung up the phone, placing it down on your kitchen counter. You bit your lip, trying to remember where the sweater was. You looked all over your small apartment, even searching the old boxes of stuff you had from UA you had stuffed into the back of the closet, but with no luck. Sighing you groaned, the sweater was probably at Bakugo's.

Bakugo wouldn't be home this early you sighed as you turned the key in the hole hearing the click. You opened the door gently, feeling the cold air. Bakugo always kept his ac on even in the winter. You placed your key on the coffee table after today. You wouldn't need it. You started to look around for your sweater, carful not to leave a trace. When you opened the bedroom door, you heard the running water of the bathtub.

'That's weird, Bakugo hates baths.' You didn't hear anything except the running water, so you began to get a little worried, you looked onto the dresser and found bottles of prescription sleeping pills. You jiggled the doorknob of the bathroom aggressively, the door flying open. Bakugo's head fell slowly into the water, and he was fully submerged.

"Bakugo!" You rushed towards the bathtub shutting on the water. You pulled Bakugo's head from under the water, and out of the bath, the floor was covered in water from the overflowing tub. He looked awful, deep dark purple bags under his sunken puffy eyes, stubble on his face. You grabbed pulled him close to your neck, your fingers feeling for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Bakugo started coughing up water; his eyes opened slowly. Everything was blurry at first, then he saw you, you held him in your arms the bathroom light above you made it look like a halo.

He saw your leaking from your eyes; they ran down your cheeks. "Y/n?" He whispered, bringing his hands to pull his hair. He wiggled out of your grasp, falling to his knees on the floor.

"Wake up, Katsuki! Wake up! You're not real, this just another hallucination; it's a fucking dream." Bakugo was now the one crying. His fist beat down on the wet bathroom tiles, the water splashing everywhere. You grabbed his wrists tightly, pulling his towards you. "Katsuki, stop." You pulled his chest to yours, not caring that your clothes were soaked. "It's me; I'm real." You whispered.

Bakugo broke down in your arms, letting out painful sobs as his body shook violently. His words were almost incoherent as he let out heart-wrenching practically screams of pain. He clung onto you his arms around your waist, face buried in your neck. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair; his heartbeat was pounding against his rib cage.

"Please don't leave." He whimpered, his breath was shakey. "Please, Y/N, I didn't mean anything of that shit that I said." His arms gripped you even tighter. He looked at you, his vermillion eyes wide, face red. "I won't Bakugo, I promise," Bakugo let out a wince, "No, I'm not Bakugo; I'm Katsuki, your Katsuki." He cried even more. You had never seen him like this, not in a million years would you have thought you would see Katsuki Bakugo so broken.

You helped him stand up slowly; he clutched onto you, afraid if he let go, you would disappear right before his eyes. You helped him onto the bedroom and laid him onto the bed. "I'm gonna clean up ok; I'll be back." You reassured him, but he didn't let go. "Please, Y/N, I need to know you're real." He swallowed, pulling you onto the bed. You laid in front of him, your arms around his broad shoulders.

"I missed you so much I-" Bakugo started stuttering, "Y/n, I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean anything of those awful things I said to you," He was crying hysterically, "I, I wanted to." You shushed him, gently playing with his hair. "Don't talk, for right now, just relax, ok." You felt his head nod against your neck. Several minutes passed, and you began to hear small little snores against your neck. The bed under you was soaked. You processed that Bakugo was fully bare clinging onto you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. You pulled away from Bakugo and covered him with the duvet covers, moving to the bathroom to clean up. You drained the tub and begun to mop up every couple of moments, checking up on Bakugo to see he was still sleeping. You were picking up all the scattered clothes and towels, throwing them into the washing machine along with your wet clothes. You were putting on one of Bakugo's shirts when you hear him start to thrash around in bed. You raced into the room to find him sitting up his head buried in his hands. You climbed onto the bed, moving towards him, in between his legs.

"Katsuki, I'm here, baby. I'm right here." Bakugo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"It's always the same whenever I close my eyes." He breathed raggedly

"Months back, I was fighting this Villian, and I got hit with this quirk and, and I saw you. You died in my arms; I couldn't get to you in time." He closed his eyes tightly, and tears slipped out. "When I became distant, I was trying to get stronger, stronger to protect you. I would wake up early because every time I closed my eyes, I saw you in my arms bleeding out."

"Oh, Katsuki, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm an asshole, I'm awful at expressing and sharing my feelings, I'm supposed to be your hero, but instead I became a villain to you. The dreams started getting worse, and I said that because I thought If you weren't with me, you would be safer. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N; I should have just told you, I should have told you." Bakugo clutched his chest tightly, "After you left, they got so much worse, I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see you leaving again and again, and it always ends the same, you dead in my arms. I even tried taking those stupid sleeping pills to try and get some rest, but nothing worked. I even tried a bath, a fucking bath because I remembered how much you use to love them, how you said it made you so relaxed before bed, and when I did shit that you did, it felt like you were there., Like I could hear your voice giggling and laughing happily. I missed you. Is still miss you, Y/N I miss you." You looked into his eyes; he was so broken. The man you loved, you admired, was crying, completely broken in front of you. You cupped his wet cheeks connecting your lips. His hands caressed your naked waist pulling you towards him.

When you kissed him, it felt like nothing had changed. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and fireworks went off. Everything around you faded away, and it was only you and Bakugo. You felt like you were finally home again. Bakugo pulled away, looking into your gorgeous e/c eyes.

"Y/n I love you, I fucking love you. I've loved you since I met you in UA, but I was too dense to fucking say anything. I should have said it a long time ago; please forgive me."

"Of course I forgive you, Idiot," you cried, kissing him again.

"I said such horrible things, baby; I'm so sorry. You're the strongest woman I know, you're stronger than me, or fucking Deku or that half and half bastard. Stronger than any of us could ever be." His words were shaky, but you knew he meant every single word, he was just trying not to cry again.

"I love you, Katsuki, my katsuki."

"With you, Y/n, I feel safe. I feel like I'm home, and I promise I will always keep you safe, and I'll never let go.

bonus  “Bakugo! You look like a shit dude.” Kaminari laughed as you and Bakugo walked in hand and hand into the bar.  “You guys are back together?” Izuku smiled excitedly, his eyes sparkling. You and Bakugo shared a loving glance at one another. “You bet your ass we are Deku.” He smirked, sitting down inside the booth with your old classmates, pulling you down onto his lap.  “For the long haul.” Your classmates erupted in cheers, Kirishima even states drinks were on him to celebrate.  

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bnha angst #bnha fluff #mha imagines #mha angst #mha fluff

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 1

Next

Read on Inkitt

(A/N: HOOOO boy here we go, after five years of staring down the barrel of this thing it’s finally done! Important question: does it matter to y’all if I don’t post the text of the chapter directly below the cut in the future and just link to Inkitt? I ask because formatting for tumblr was beyond annoying and I’m not looking forward to doing it for like 20 more chapters. But if it’s necessary for accessibility reasons, I’m willing to do it.)

Chapter I: in which the story begins

When the winter first melted into spring, Basil and I crept to the edge of the woods behind our houses to pick wildflowers in the meadow. It was still too early for raspberries; in the summer, we’d fill our baskets and our stomachs with them until our mouths were stained red with juices. Our mothers would bake pies in the afternoon and we’d eat them in the evening, cleaning every last scrap from our supper plates with the promise of a sweet dessert. Now, the earth was still cool beneath our bare feet, our toes wiggling in the soft dirt. Once we’d filled our fists with flowers, we settled in the tall grass and began weaving together goldenrod, daisies, and violets into flower crowns and daisy chains.

Basil presented his work and beamed at me, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with the back of his hand. “Take it, I want you to wear it,” he urged, thrusting the flower crown into my lap.

“But you worked so hard on it,” I replied.

He shrugged and brushed the dirt from his tanned knees. “I want you to have it,” he insisted, reaching forward and taking the crown from my lap to place it gently on my head.

I stared down at my own work in my hands; it was not nearly as beautiful as the one Basil had made. Some of the stems had split, and many of the flowers had lost some of their leaves and petals. I didn’t have the same steady hands that he did.

“In that case, I want you to have mine, too,” I decided, pressing the crown onto Basil’s head as a couple more leaves fluttered to the ground.

Basil grinned a mile wide, practically radiating sunshine with every inch of his being. “Now we match,” he beamed.

A peaceful silence fell over the meadow. Behind us, the trees rustled in the woods. Insects hovered in the grass, hopping from flower to flower; Basil jumped when a bee buzzed past his face to land in the flowering raspberry bushes that bordered the tree line.

“We’ll be friends forever, right, Basil?” I asked after a while, sheepishly adjusting my flower crown.

"Of course we will,” he responded. “Even when we’re old!”

 “How old? Like, eighteen? That’s super old!”

Basil laughed. “Yeah! Eighteen and then even older!”

I smiled hopefully. “And we can still make flower crowns like this?”

“Ace, when we’re eighteen, I’ll still make you all the flower crowns you want,” Basil decreed with a grin. “That’s a promise.”

* * *

The warmth of the sun and Basil’s innocent smile faded as I woke up to last night’s rain dripping down on me from the cracks in the ceiling above. Bertrand stood over me, jostling me awake with one hand while the other held a vial of another one of his concoctions. I assumed I had fallen asleep after supper, because the dishes remained untouched by the washbasin and twilight was just pouring in through the window.

“Drink up,” Bertrand commanded in that voice of his that just begged to be disobeyed, holding the potion in front of me expectantly as if to remind me of the curse that filled the vacant space within me. He stared at me with piercing eyes over the top of his dull gray beard, swishing the vial back and forth for emphasis.

I grabbed it from his wrinkly hand and sloshed the red liquid around in disgust before shutting my eyes and downing it in one gulp, just to appease him. Even so, I could not resist the urge to lay a hand against my chest, but still I felt nothing. Shaking my head, I rose from my cot and pushed past Bertrand, grabbing my bow and arrow off the hook by the door and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bertrand called after me.

“Out,” I answered, already halfway out the rickety wooden door.

“It’s past nightfall, Ace, it’s dangerous out there!”

But I was already gone, walking away from the old house as the door slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud.

Over the seven years I’d spent under Bertrand’s leaky roof, I had slowly become disillusioned with the idea of ever finding a potion strong enough to light a fire in my ribcage. Bertrand had tested a lot of his spells on me throughout my life, but the love potion had always proven to be the least effective.

But I suppose that is to be expected when you do not have a heart.

The Village of the Heartless was smaller than the town where I grew up. A single dirt road ran from the village gates to the top of the hill, through the neighborhood before coming to a stop at the edge of the woods that surrounded the kingdom of Amistadia. We were a close-knit community, learning to provide and look out for each other through thick and thin, through every harsh winter and plentiful spring.

Bertrand’s house stood at the edge of the village, where the hill dropped off toward the gates below. At the base of the hill stood a large, sturdy oak tree where I perched some nights with my bow and arrow on the lookout for trouble.

Nights in the Village of the Heartless were always dark, as we could never afford enough oil to keep all of the town’s lamps lit, but they weren’t always quiet. Kids from neighboring towns sometimes wandered the area at night, brandishing knives in their grimy hands, looking to stir up trouble. Tonight was no exception; as I neared the village limits, I caught a glimpse of a pair of boys making their way down the road, and a thrill shot up my spine. I climbed swiftly up the oak tree and perched in the shadow of its lush, leafy branches, fingers itching for my bow.

The pair dragged a child behind them by the arm, yanking her across the dirt with them as they cackled and cheered triumphantly at their prized catch. The girl held tightly to a canvas sack, trying fruitlessly to pull away from her captors.

“Get away, get away!” she shrieked, dodging a blow as she fell to the ground, clutching the bag to her torso desperately.

“What’s the matter, little runt?” one of the assailants sneered. “You’re not afraid of a couple of kids, are you?”

“I just wanted something to eat!” the girl cried out as a likely filthy knife narrowly missed her cheek.

If I had been in my right mind, I would have simply shot the pair of boys in the shoulder, snatched up the child, and run away, but Basil’s face kept flashing in my mind; an anger was boiling in my gut that demanded confrontation.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, pulling back an arrow and pointing it in their direction.

The kid with the knife froze, eyes darting up to my place on the tree branch. I was yards away, but I could see the glint of light from the last of the setting sun on the knife as his fist tightened around it. His partner, as well as the child still laying on the ground with the sack clutched to her chest, stared wide-eyed as he

“Who’re you talking to?” he grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” I quipped, hopping down from my perch and tightening my grip on the arrow. “Just let the kid go.”

“Why should I?” he retorted, nonetheless taking a step back when he saw the arrow aimed directly at his head. “Y-You’re not really going to shoot that.”

“How do you know?”

The other kid called out, “Hey, let’s just get out of here.” He was ignored.

Pointing to the little girl, Knife Boy puffed out his chest and continued, “There’s no way you’re really worried about her. You Heartless are all the same; you don’t feel a damned thing. No way you’d go out of your way to save her.”

I allowed myself a bitter, self-indulgent smirk, too brief to be seen in the thick darkness. “If that’s what you believe, that I am entirely emotionless, then wouldn’t it also stand to reason that I would feel no remorse about ending your sorry life right here and now?” I drew my bowstring further; the wood audibly creaked. “If that’s the case, then it would seem you had better start running.”

Knife Boy froze, taking a few steps back before he and his friend took off running in the direction they came. “Cursed bastards!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hopped the gate and disappeared. Once they were out of sight, I let my arms drop to my side and slung my bow back over my shoulder. I felt my brow furrow in frustration; life in the village had become so mundane that I was almost hoping for a fight. I quickly stifled that selfish thought, pushing it to the far recesses of my mind; the girl, who had stayed completely still on the ground throughout the whole ordeal, now scrambled to her feet, still clutching the bag in her white-knuckled hands. Now, no longer squinting through the dark, I recognized her immediately.

“That was awesome! How did you know what to say?” she beamed, slinging the canvas sack over her shoulder and wiping the dirt from a pair of ratty pants that fell three inches from her ankles.

"Petra, you’re the one who I keep hearing has been stealing food from the neighboring villages?” I asked her, and her expression soured immediately at having been caught.

“Yeah, that was me,” Petra admitted under her breath. Then, scrambling to justify herself, she added, “But I only do it because there’s not enough food in the village and I gotta eat something!”

I nodded, mulling it over. “Sure, now I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but stealing is wrong. You’re plenty old enough to know that.”

“Of course, I know that, but I needed food!”

“Fine, I get it, I get it,” I sighed. “Just don’t make this a habit, got it? I promised Annie I would keep you out of trouble.”

Petra pouted. “Fine,” she mumbled. I started back up the hill, with Petra trotting silently alongside me.

At thirteen years old, Petra had been living in the Village of the Heartless since she was a baby—which was still longer than I’d been in town—left outside the home of one of the village women, Annie, in the middle of the night. I’d met her several years ago, and she quickly became enthralled with my stories of life outside the village. Annie was dead several months now, leaving Petra to fend mostly for herself, though the community kept a watchful eye over her (Not watchful enough, I thought ruefully).

“You didn’t tell me how you knew what to say to that kid,” she urged, struggling to keep up with my strides.

“I used to spend time around those kinds of people a lot when I was a kid,” I explained, deciding to humor her. “I’ve learned how to turn their own words against them by now.”

I did not tell her that had I learned how to do so sooner, things may have turned out a lot differently.

 * * *

I eventually sent Petra home with a warning that I’d be watching to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble. When I crossed the threshold back into Bertrand’s musty old house, the palm of his hand came down hard across my face, leaving a sharp stinging sensation behind on my skin.

“What on earth was that for?” I yelped. Bertrand grabbed me by the wrist and dropped me into one of the rickety dining chairs in the center of the room, bearded face practically sparking with rage.

“You must not keep doing that!” he scolded.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently.

“Getting into confrontations with… hooligans! What else?”

“I did what I had to—”

“Don’t think I wasn’t watching, Ace! I could see the entire ordeal from the window!”

 “Well maybe if you’d actually done something to help instead of just watching—”

“Unlike you, Ace, I value my life and am not going to get myself killed just to feel like the hero!”

I couldn’t help but bristle at his comment. Something in my soul shattered, and I sprung to my feet, the wooden chair tipping backward onto the stone floor behind me with a loud clatter that would have rang through the eaves had I not immediately erupted into theatrics.

“What do you mean you value your life? All you do is sit around making futile potion after potion and you still think it’ll work next time!” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing the confrontational energy in my veins to burn out before it swallowed me whole. “So maybe I need to tell off some asshole every once in a while to finally feel like I’m doing something meaningful. So you can keep pouring bile down my throat all you want, but I can assure you it’ll never make me happy!”

Bertrand’s face fell, and I knew deep down that I had hurt him, but I could not bring myself to feel guilty. He had it coming, I thought, stalking across the room to my cot by the window. I sat down on the thin mattress, kicked off my boots, and pulled my knees up to my chest.

“Ace—” Bertrand, having followed me, reached out a hand as if to lay it on my shoulder, but I flinched away from the touch and he retracted the appendage as if he had been burned.

“Don’t touch me,” I muttered, directing my gaze out the window at the dark, lonely night creeping across the landscape. “Just leave me alone.”

With a sigh, Bertrand retreated from my bedside, retiring to his back potion room to conjure his demons away, and I sat back against the wall, longing for home and the warm voices of my parents.

That night, I dreamt of Knife Boy, and his words reminded me of Carita, the girl who kissed me under an oak tree when we were younger and told me I was weird for flinching

Next chapter releases 7/25!

#The Heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #writing #writeblr #aspec writing #aspec writers #op

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Modern AU - Get the Mayor a Damn Dog

What started as me trying to explain to some friends why I’m giving Mayor Damien in a Modern AU a dog ran off and had a life of its own.

For context, Modern Damien (as I write it) is part of a failed ‘second cycle’ of the WKM events. When the barrier broke after the ‘Damien’ short, pieces of the characters trapped within were sent out to be ‘reborn’ in a modern world. This means that while Damien exists because Dark is made from pieces of the twins, William doesn’t since Wilford is him. But since there were enough differences, Damien (and Celine, don’t worry!) gets the peaceful life he deserved all along.

This, coincidently, is the first time Wilford has met Damien (in some time, he thinks). What better way to do so than by deciding Damien should get a dog?

Word Count: 2,259 (hence the read-more)

-

If there was one thing to know about the city’s mayor, it was that he wanted a dog.

(And a family, but one thing at a time.)

It came up in several interviews, and various photoshoots included him posing with dogs. Some well-meaning patrons tried to gift him a dog - in other words, drop a dog at his door without any warning - but Damien was fortunate enough to have interceded before anything actually happened. For Damien, this would be a massive decision, and he wanted the choice in when and how it happened. In fact, it was why he didn’t have a dog to this point. With how busy the City Hall was, he couldn’t justify having a dog cooped up in an apartment all day. It might be spacious, it’d be heartless, and why have a dog for the bragging rights? What about the pet’s own life?

It made the days lonely and quiet sometimes, but Damien knew it was for the best. At least it started a running gag of friends giving him dog themed items for birthdays and other occasions that were dotted around his home. One such afternoon had him dusting some items, only for a porcelain dog figure to be dislodged and fall to the ground.

“Whoa there! Don’t wanna lose this pretty thin’, eh?” Damien could only watch with a bewildered expression as a man with a pink moustache who wasn’t there before caught the figurine and neatly returned it to its place. “Looks as expensive as everythin’ else here. Musta cost a pretty penny!”

“Uh, I - hold on a moment. Where did you even come from?” Damien knew the front door was locked. The balcony would be an option for only the fool who would want to climb seven stories. The intruder mimicked Damien’s action of blankly looking around like he was also looking for an answer.

“Yer totally Mark’s friend, right?” 

“Answer my question. How did you get in here?” Damien put the duster down, glaring at the stranger. When nothing happened, he gave a slow sigh. “I don’t know. ‘Mark’ is a common name. I know a few people with that name. Can you give better clarification?” 

“Good answer! He’s a little shorter than you?” No reaction. The stranger pursed his lips, making his moustache wiggle in thought. “He makes videos fer th’ internet?” That, luckily, helped Damien put the pieces together.

“I’ve been friends with him for years, nearly since we were kids. So now can you please tell me who you are, how you got in here, and what any of this has to do with Mark?” 

“Wilford Warfstache, reporter extraordinaire at yer service!” Wilford gave a dramatic, swooping bow. “I actually went ta yer office, but ya weren’t there. Th’ security fella that found me informed that it’s actually Sunday an’ no one works in th’ buildin’ that day. So then I came here, an’ here ya are! Well done fer not working!” He finished with a dramatic ‘ta-dah’ pose, complete with jazz hands. But when Damien didn’t clap, Wilford’s pose deflated (complete with sound effects that came out of nowhere). “C’mon, Dames, I didn’t even get lost. That’s a good thing fer me.” Damien pressed two fingers against his temple as he tried to follow what was going on.

“I’m going to let most of that slide, but why did you call me ‘Dames’?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“For one, it’s a nickname that only my oldest friends use.”

“Aren’t we?” Damien opened his mouth to refute the bizarre question, only to notice the genuine confusion on the other’s face. One moment, Wilford acted like they were strangers, and the next gathered they were old friends in his mind? It was a rather worrying state of affairs, but it was better to not correct him just yet.

“So, Mr Warfstache, what brings you here?” Damien clasped his hands behind his back, steeling himself for some terrible news. He had heard rumours of Mark being linked with some malicious, shadowy entity. Was this related to that? What rabbit-hole had he been pulled into? Wilford appeared lost at the question, looking around until -

“Oh yeah! It’s ‘cause yer cooped up in here all th’ time. Ya need ta get out more, talk ta people, see more things! But most of all, ya need some sorta company, an’ - wait!” Damien had turned and stormed off to find his phone. “C’mon, Dames, y’ve been like this fer years! It’s not gonna kill ya ta live a little fer once.”

“And what do you know about that? You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Damien held the phone up as a warning. “I will call the police if you keep this up.”

“Poppycock. I’m tryin’ ta help. What part of that aren’t ya seein’? Yer a man who’s obsessed with puttin’ himself last. Anythin’ that can pull yer attention from work for a split second is somethin’ ya don’t get involved with! How long are ya gonna keep not livin’ fer?”

“What I do is none of your damn business! I know the importance of my work!”

“An’ what other man in yer position would throw his life away? Any other Mayor would have a romantic partner or family who’d be there no matter what. They’d juggle everythin’ because that’s what people do! Yer not ‘sposed to be some machine who works an’ does nothin’ else!”

“But that is what I want to do! I promised to give this city my all. I’m not backing down on this.” Wilford’s hand twitched, like he was about to grab something, but he forced himself to stop. Instead, he took a heavy, slow breath. The moustache was peppered with short, black strands of hair.

“An’ neither am I. I’m not lettin’ ya throw yer life away again because yer a fuckin’ moron. No. We’re goin’. Now. Get yer fuckin’ coat.” 

“Are you listening to yourself right now? You break into my home through whatever illogical technique, complain about how I choose to live my life, and now you’re trying to bring me somewhere? You’d be mad to think I’d go anywhere with you!” Damien took a nervous step back as Wilford gave a resigned laugh.

“Mad, ya say? Wouldn’t be th’ first ta say that, an’ ya won’t be th’ last.” His head lowered at the confession. A few seconds passed before he returned his gaze to Damien with a sigh. Unlike before, it was a more sober look. “I’m not seein’ ya waste away ta be nothin’ again. All I ask is that ya come with me ta look at dogs. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Ya always said ya wanted one an’ never got one ‘cause of work. But folks love dogs! Bet we could find a little one that’ll be great in an office an’ a small apartment. Like… Like one of these!” Wilford hurried to the couch to snatch up a cushion and excitedly point to one of the printed dogs. Whatever black was in the moustache had disappeared when he turned to Damien.

“You… Do realise that’s a Great Dane, yes? The complete opposite of what you just said.” 

“An’ that’s why I didn’t pick a dog! Yer th’ expert outta th’ two of us! C’mon!”

--

Despite the tense first meeting, Damien found Wilford to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Eccentric, yet bubbly. He had a colourful view on the world, and it wasn’t long before Damien could see why Wilford was confused on knowing Damien. They got along like a house on fire, or like friends who were simply catching up after years apart. Wilford told him about his reporting job in a TV studio, various other quirky friends he had (though photographs were needed to remind Wilford of names), and the connection between himself and Mark.

Time seemed to pass both too quickly and slowly by the time the pair arrived at the local pound. Damien had tried to talk Wilford out of this idea, but the other was indeed too stubborn to change his mind. The staff welcomed the pair in and allowed them to see the dogs that were looking for forever homes. Damien had to remind Wilford twice that a small dog was what he wanted.

(“But Dames! Look at her pudgy face!”

“Wilford, she’d need a garden as big as my entire apartment to run around in.”)

They eventually split up so Damien could walk around and see if there were any suitable candidates to bring home without running commentary from Wilford. So many dogs were lively and friendly, but far too energetic for an apartment life or would be better suited to homes with children. Despite coming to the realisation that this was the wasted trip he knew it would be, he let himself have the chance to enjoy meeting some dogs. He was reading the information on some spaniel puppies when he felt eyes on him. Damien lifted his gaze to the corridor to find he was alone. As he turned to determine where the feeling of being watched came from, he found a dog in the den directly behind him staring attentively in his direction like it was on guard. It was a corgi, and Damien guessed it was a tricolour: predominantly black with sharply defined tan markings around his shoulders, eyes and muzzle. Unlike most corgis Damien saw on Crufts, the fur was longer and fluffier.

“What’s got you on high alert, buddy?” Damien lifted the information clipboard to skim for a warning on a vicious temperament. To his relief, it was the opposite. The corgi was approximately two years old, had high stamina but was mainly calm and observant. True to the notes, the dog approached the perspex door, sitting in front of it as he watched Damien. “Or are you making sure I don’t cause trouble… Soldier? An unusual name.”

“He’s a stray,” one of the volunteers explained as they closed the storage door with the back of their foot, arms laden with a large sack of dog food. “He was found at the local army base after trying to herd some of the soldiers that were training, which is where we got the name from. It’s strange… He’s a purebred, yet there’s no chip, no alert of a missing dog anywhere in the state or in neighbouring states… Nothing. Anyone that wanted to adopt him couldn’t get him to come anywhere near them. Aside from any of us who bring him food, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Soldier get this close to anyone.”

“That is… Rather unusual for such a social breed,” Damien hummed in agreement. “I read up on them before when first checking what breeds might suit an apartment life, yet... I wouldn’t have expected to find one here.”

“It might be fate, Mister Mayor. It’s happened a few times here before. Why don’t you say hello?” Without waiting for an answer, the volunteer skirted around Damien. There was a little struggle with the weight of the sack, but they successfully opened the upper half of the door. For a moment, he considered refusing the offer, but decided otherwise. A hand was cautiously lowered to pet the dog on the top of the head. Instead, Soldier pulled back so he could sniff the hand like he had the final say in whether the interaction was allowed. Once satisfied, he bumped the top of his head against Damien’s hand.

“Oh my God. That’s the first time he’s let anyone pet him without a bribe of food,” whispered the intern. “This is like a Disney movie. You need to take him home with you. I don’t think you’re gonna find a better suited dog. Soldier is always watching and paying attention to what goes on. We have a kit that’d help you care for him, if that’s a worry. But you spend time with him and make the choice for yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The volunteer hurried off with the sack in their arms, leaving Damien alone. Once the coast was clear, Damien sighed and knelt down.

“This is all quite a rush, isn’t it? We’ve barely met and now I’m being told to bring you home. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with a boring man like me. I work in one room nearly all day, and I don’t have a garden. I’m sure you understand that I’m not the home you deserve.” Soldier cocked his head to the left as Damien spoke, responding with a low bark. “I’m not entirely sure whether that’s in agreement or disagreement, I’m afraid. I don’t speak dog. And I doubt you can speak human either.” To Damien’s surprise, Soldier gave another bark, before rising up and crossing his space to pick up a chewed-up teddy bear. Upon his return, he placed his front paws on the perspex to offer the bear to Damien.

“Is this for me? She’s a pretty little lady, isn’t she? Even if her dress is a little tattered.” Taking the toy, Damien once again attempted to pat Soldier’s head with the other hand. This time, Soldier accepted, allowing Damien to properly pet him.

This was how Wilford and the shelter volunteer found them several minutes. The volunteer was mid-brag about how they knew it was a match made in heaven, and Wilford was quick to agree.

“He’s a handsome little fella, huh? Ya look fairly smitten, Dames.” Wilford slapped Damien’s shoulder with a grin.

“I think I might look into the adoption process… But if I do, I’m changing his name. ‘Soldier’ doesn’t suit him. He deserves a name that’s more intelligent. I’m thinking… Barnum. It rather suits such a bright-eyed fellow, don’t you think?”

#writersofmark #mayor damien #Wilford Warfstache #(I mean I'm not expecting anyone to actually read this) #(it's a long-winded headcanon story but I'm sure someone will enjoy my attempt to write a dog xD) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Rose Petals (Wilford) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 6

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

6

The rooster that woke me up, was a real one. Sunlight was slipping in through the shutters; and lighting up the face of the man lying naked next to me – his arm draped over my chest.

We looked at each other for a long time without a word. I knew the situation should be awkward – our circumstance being as it was – but in that moment, it wasn’t.

His amber eyes were warm; nothing like the cold, heartless eyes I’d seen earlier. I lost myself in his gaze; and smiled. I ran a finger down the side of his face; from the soft skin on his temple, over the stubble on his cheek, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. He pulled me towards him gingerly, so that we were laid facing each other; and put his forehead to mine, exhaling with a satisfied expression. His arm was around me, and his fingers played with the hair at the back of my neck.

The fire having gone out; the room was cold; and Geralt pulled the covers over me, to shield me from it. I sighed contentedly, and he smiled at me; pulling me in for a soft kiss. I let my fingers slide over his chest, running them through the hair there; before slipping my arm around his warm body. Taking a hold of my thigh; he slowly slid my leg around his hip – still softly kissing my lips; occasionally letting the tip of his tongue met mine.

Our eyes met in mutual consent; and he gingerly slid inside me again – taking care not to hurt me; as I was still sore from our lovemaking the night before – we hadn’t stopped at one time, and I could see a few bruises on my arms from where he had held me pinned down on the mattress. I gasped as he began to move. “Do you want me to stop?”, he whispered. I shook my head. “Never”. He smiled softly.

His movements weren’t so much thrusts, as slow sways of his hips; as he held me against him. His member felt velvety as he moved in and out of me; and I stroked his back lazily – closing my eyes in relaxed pleasure.

We were in a state of pure bliss in that moment. Nothing could touch us inside this little bubble we had created.

He continued to move; pulling himself on top of me – taking care not to put his full weight on me. His hands slid over my breasts; fingers tracing a purplish bruise his mouth had left there. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said; and kissed the mark. “You didn’t”, I breathed, and stroked his cheek. “I’m all right”.

Our lips met again; brushing against each other. He ran his hand down my side; lifting my leg to lay it around his torso. I moaned from the angle he was getting; only having made such a slight change to our position. He kept kissing me and gently excavating my core. His pubic bone was softly pushing against my bundle of nerves as he moved; and I felt my insides beginning to clench around him.

“Geralt…”, I breathed. “I can… only once…”. “Yes”, he whispered into my ear. “Together”. Moving a little faster; we chased our highs together – moaning in unison.

It wasn’t the same explosion as the ones that I had felt the night before – but no less pleasurable. It was a poof; and then a soft wave of tingling warmth spreading throughout my body. Geralt came along with me; a quiet groan as he pushed into me one final time – his cock twitching along with his body’s jolt.

Sliding out of me; he laid back on the mattress. His hair was tussled, and I grinned at him. “What?”, he asked. “Now you look well and fucked”, I giggled. He raised his eyebrows and smiled back at me. “I am”.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Geralt?”, Jaskier called softly. “Are you awake?”

“Fuck”, Geralt grumbled.

I released myself from his grasp – squeezing his hand in the process – and went to get the robe I had left by the tub. The water was cold; but I used it to quickly rinse myself off from Geralts and my own juices; smiling at the memory of the moments we’d spent in it the night before.

Having put on his pants and breeches, and checked to see that I was decent – pouting playfully at the lack of skin he could see on me – Geralt unbolted and opened the door. Jaskier stepped in, carrying a tray of assorted fruits. “Good morning”, he chirped sweetly, like a mother to a child. He set down the tray, and sat himself on a chair by the table. Geralt went to build a fire.

“Well, that was a party!”, Jaskier smiled. “I didn’t see much of you. Where did you go?”. He looked from Geralt to me; to the untouched bedding on the cot by the door. Seeing my flushed cheeks; his mouth went agape. “Oh”. He said. “Oh! Oh, wow!”, he smiled brightly. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see that coming”. Popping a grape into his mouth, he smirked and wiggled his brows. I ran a hand through my hair, and looked away.

“What do you want, Jaskier?”, Geralt asked. “I wanted to make sure to see you off”, the bard answered. I sat down across the table from him; wincing slightly from the pain in my nether regions. Jaskier drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Do you need some ice, my lady?”. I threw a plum at him. He laughed in response.

“Are you not continuing on with us?”, I asked, trying to change the subject. “Alas, I cannot”, he answered, stuffing his mouth with another three grapes. “The Baron has asked me to stay the week, and perform at the evening festivities each night. I’m charging him a good amount of coin for it”, he said proudly. “Good for you”, Geralt said disinterestedly. “Yes, well; I’m sure you’ll miss me very much”, Jaskier smirked at him.

He stood up and took my hand; kissing it chivalrously. “My lady. It has been an honor”, he said. “I shall write you another ode; and if we’re lucky, I’ll be able to sing it at your wedding”.

Geralt looked as if he was ready to smash the bards face into the wall.

Another knock on the door. “Jasky?”, a light voice tweeted. “Coming, Cri… Clo… Cuddle cake”, Jaskier called. “I can’t remember her name”, he whispered with a shrug.

He walked up to the witcher, and patted his shoulder. “Take care, old friend”, he said. “Goodbye, Jaskier”, Geralt answered. “Don’t die before we meet again”. Jaskier smiled brightly, and went out the door to join his newest conquest.

“I give it three days”, I smirked, making Geralt chuckle. He grabbed an apple from the tray, and took a large bite of it. “Get dressed”, he said, mouth full. I looked him with a raised eyebrow. He swallowed the bite. “Please?...”.

---

We set off from Tigg within an hour. Geralt had offered me to sit on Roach, but I’d declined. “It’s probably going to be a few hours before I can straddle anything again”, I’d smirked at him; getting a grunting chuckle in response.

It was strange leaving behind the place we’d spent the night making love; and moving towards the place he was to hand me over to another man. I think we both felt the awkwardness of the situation build; but once we’d left the village behind us, and were out of the sight of others, Geralt took my hand; clearly trying to clear the air, somehow.

“Are we going to… do that… again?”, I asked. Suddenly I felt strangely shy. “What do you mean?”, he smirked; looking out the corner of his eye at me. “Fuck you, Geralt”, I sneered. “Oh, that! Yeah, I wouldn’t mind”, he chuckled. My face reddened. “Hels ass. I feel like a… bloody juvenile”, I snorted.

He stopped, and pulled me in to his arms. “I don’t know what this is; but whatever it is, it feels good”. I looked up at him. “I want you to be happy; safe and content. And if it wasn’t for your soreness; I’d want to throw you against that tree over there, and screw your brains out, until you screamed in pleasure. Trust me when I say; I haven’t felt that way about someone in quite a while”. I laughed, and bit my lip. “That fucking lip”, he growled. I raised a brow at him, and smirked. “Don’t play with fire, little frog”, he said warningly.

I got on my toes, and kissed him softly. He groaned in response. “What did I just say?”, he said, and looked at me with mock threat in his eyes. “Fine”, I said, and we kept moving.

We walked throughout the day, stopping once for a bite of bread; and a tender kiss. The landscape changed again; as we moved towards the edge of forestland. The air had a brisk chill to it; biting at my nose and cheeks. My knee was no longer in any real pain; so, I tried to keep a brisk pace, to keep myself warm.

“Eager to get to our destination?”, Geralt asked curtly. “I’m cold”, I bit back. “Sorry”, he said, voice softer.

I saw a patch of white flowers at the side of the road; and let go of Geralts hand to examine them. Chamomile!, I realized, and began gently cutting their stems with my knife, to save them for future use. I saw more plants further in to the trees, that I wanted to have a look at. “Y/N”, Geralt called after me. “I’m just going to look at these flowers”, I called back. “Keep your bloody breeches on… If you insist…”, I mumbled.

I found another patch of flowers – pretty pink ones – which I recognized to be oleander. I wasn’t in the habit of dabbling in poison; but if the last week had taught me anything, it was to always be prepared. I moved on; finding both honeysuckle and mandrake. Looking back over my shoulder, I could no longer see the road; or Geralt. I realized I was lost.

I tried to find my own tracks, thinking that I could follow them back. I didn’t want to call out for the witcher, admittedly a little ashamed about my predicament. It was swiftly becoming darker around me – the sun beginning to set. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. Geralt looked at me with angry eyes.

“You’ve been gone over half an hour. I thought you were trying to run again!”, he snarled. His words made me turn from embarrassed to enraged. “Who says I wasn’t?”, I said. “The honeysuckle in your satchel”, he answered. “How did you?...”, I began; remembering his perfect sense of smell. “Of course”, I scoffed.

He dragged me back to the road; which to my embarrassment was only about 50 yards away.

“You need to stay near me”, he growled, not letting go of my arm, and snatching my satchel from me. “I can’t spend every minute of the day having to worry that you’ll suddenly wander off and get yourself in trouble!”.

“I wish you’d just ignore your duty for once, and take me somewhere else!”, I said. “Y/N…”, Geralt said, having let go of me. “I can’t… Even if I did, I couldn’t give you what you want”. I looked at him confused, but he seemed to take that as sadness. “I’m sorry, little frog”, he said. “I was made for one thing. To kill. I’m not going to be able to settle down in a cabin near Kaer Trolde; shearing sheep and tending to crops”.

I stopped in my tracks – rage seeping out of every pore of my being. “Did you completely miss the point of what I told you that night?”, I snarled. “I don’t want you to change for me. I just don’t want to…”.

“Shut up”, he said. I slapped him hard across the face. He looked at me with a sudden indignance; which made me lift my arm, to strike him again. He caught my wrist in the air. “Shut up, and get out of sight!”. He shoved me towards the side of the road; gesturing for me to get behind the trees that made out the edge of the forest. I instantly obeyed; recognizing the expression on his face.

Crouching behind a tree, I looked down the road from where we had been coming. A group of men on black horses were approaching.

“Halt!”, the rider at the front called out. “You! Where is the girl?”, he demanded, looking at Geralt. “What girl?”, the witcher answered. “Don’t play dumb. The girl you’re transporting!”.

I recognized the men as the ones who had been at Coodcoodlaks feast. “She’s gone”, Geralt answered calmly. “She ran off. I’m searching for her myself”. The man laughed gruffly. “You lost the future queen of Temeria? Even a witcher can’t be that stupid”, he sneered. “Or is it that you take me for a fool?”, he added. Geralt smirked. “You brought only 4 men for a fight with a witcher. That seems foolish”.

The man got off his horse; his men following his lead. They all drew their swords. “Don’t tempt me, mutant”. I saw Geralts face contract into anger, and held my breath. “You should have just told me, if you wanted to dance”, he said.

The man put his blade to Geralts throat; making the witcher lean back slightly. “Where. Is. She?”, the man said asked again. Geralt bared his teeth in a sneer – his expression terrifying. “She ran away”, he repeated. “Which is something you should do as well”.

The man let out an angry grunt, pulled back his sword; and went to join his men at the horses.

“Don’t walk away angry; just walk away”, Geralt called after him.

Suddenly I felt something cold and sharp against my neck. Someone put their arm around my waist; pulling me against them. “Hello there”, someone whispered in my ear. I could feel his hot breath and spittle against my neck. It smelled rancid.

He dragged me from my hiding place; his blade making it clear that I shouldn’t struggle. I couldn’t help myself though; and tried to jostle myself out of his grasp. His knife nicked at the skin on my neck; and I felt a tiny trickle of blood from the wound, running down my collarbone.

My captor dragged me onto the road; and shoved me towards the man who had been threatening Geralt. He grabbed a hold of me with a laugh; holding me close to his chest.

“There she is, the whore”, the man sneered. “Don’t worry, witcher. We’ll bring her to our master. I’m sure he’ll bring her to good use”.

“I’m…”, I tried, “…my name is… Zaba. I’m an herbalist. I don’t know who this man is”. “Sure you are, my lady”, the man growled into my ear. “What’s in the satchel? The crown jewels?”.

Geralt drew his sword. “Let her go”, he snarled; his eyes almost black – not from any draughts, but from pure rage. The men around us drew their own weapons; and their leader kept me held against him; turning me, so my back was to his chest. “No. No, I don’t think so”, he chuckled; and let his hand travel to my breast, taking a hold of it – testing its firmness. “Come to think of it, maybe I’ll have a go at her myself”.

Geralt took a fighting stance, and then jumped forward with a brutal slash, hitting one of the men across the torso. He fell to the ground with a scream; and I could see his guts spilling from his stomach. One of his companions instantly vomited at the sight.

The men sprang at the witcher; but had not counted for his speed. Even the man holding me seemed surprised; which gave me the chance I needed. I threw my head back – hitting his nose – and then slipped the sgian-dubh out of my boot, and spun around; stabbing him in the side. The man squealed like a stung pig; and stumbled backwards. I drew my knife back; and turned towards the fighting behind me.

Geralt was effortlessly avoiding the slashes of his opponents swords; slashing at one mans shoulder, and hitting another on the back of his knee, making him unable to stand. At this point, three men were dead or dying; and Geralt grabbed the throat of a fourth one; lifting him into the air, and lowering him onto his sword – killing him instantly in the process.

The witcher ran towards me and the leader laying on the ground. The man was bleeding out, color gone from his face. My first captor sprang onto his horse, and made to ride off. “Tell O’Dimm the witcher has her!...”, the man on the ground cried out; before Geralts sword pushed through his neck; making any other words disappear into a rattle. The rider kicked at his horse, and quickly disappeared into the forest.

I looked down at the dead man at my feet. “I killed him…”, I said below my breath. “No. I killed him”, Geralt said gruffly, and pulled back his sword. “We have to get out of here”. He examined the horses the dead men had arrived on; and apparently being satisfied with the build of one of them, he took my satchel, and fastened it to the black stallion. “Come on”, he said. I was frozen in place; looking at my bloody hands; breathing superficially.

Geralt put his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Y/N, these weren’t soldiers, but they were Nilfgaardian. They came here to take you to their master – Gaunter O’Dimm, I suspect. Whatever he has planned for you is not good”. He raised his eyebrows, boring into my eyes. “I killed them. They’re dead. It was bloody; you saw it happen, and you took part in the fighting yourself. This is real. And I need you to move past that; get on that horse, and follow me out of here”.

I shook myself. “Yes”, I said. Geralt nodded, and led me to the horse; quickly depositing me on its back. Kicking at the corpse of the man that had held me, he then took the mans sword, and fastened it to my saddle.

We rode through the night, putting as many miles between us and the battleground as possible.

---

As the sun began to rise, we arrived at a lake. Geralt helped me off my horse. He gently slid his thumb over the cut on my neck, and grunted. “You can wash up. I’ll find us something to eat”. He went to get his things; but I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He put his hand on my cheek. “I’ll be close”, he smiled reassuringly.

I walked down to the edge of the water. Meeting my own eyes in the reflection, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Geralt dealt the finishing blow… but I killed him, I thought. I killed a man… a man that was going to do very bad things to me if I didn’t… and he’s dead now. Because of me. The thought didn’t make me as distraught as I thought it would. I should be screaming and feeling like a murderer – but in reality; I felt nothing but indifference. I’d done what I had to, to survive. I felt strangely… satisfied.

I quickly washed my face, arms and hands; and walked back to the horses. The black stallion standing next to Roach was beautiful and strong. I blew at his muzzle, as I had with Roach’s when I’d first met her – and he responded in kind. “You need a name, boy”, I whispered.

“Are you talking to your horse?”, Geralts gruff voice came from behind me. I turned to face him. “Training for conversations with you, I suppose”. He grunted with a smile.

He was carrying a dead hare by its ears, and slit his knife down its front, beginning to skin it. I winced at the sight. “You just saw 5 men killed brutally; but can’t stomach a hare being prepared for a meal?”, he chuckled. “I’ve just seen enough blood for a while”, I answered.

I went to build a fire, as Geralt continued his butchery of the hare. The flames were a welcome sight, after having ridden through the cold night. Putting the meat on a stick over the fire; Geralt looked at me with enquiring eyes. “You like animals?”, he asked. “No more than anyone else, I guess”, I answered. “But you know how to speak to them”, he said. I sighed, and considered his words. “I eat their meat; wear their skins; and ride their backs. It’s only fair to treat them with respect; if I expect for them to serve me like that”. He chuckled at my response, and handed me a piece of the meat to eat. It was sweet and gamey.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”, he said, between bites. “What do you mean?”. “The cat. How you talk to the horses. I’ve never seen anyone interact that way with animals”. I looked at him challengingly. “Ask”, I said, as he had to me those nights before. “You want to”. He laughed, and narrowed his eyes. “You’re playing with things you shouldn’t, little frog”, he said. “Magic isn’t for humans”.

I laughed at him. “Not everything is magic, witcher”, I said. “Sometimes it’s just two creatures meeting, and reacting”. He exhaled with a grunt. “Are you unhappy with my answer?”, I asked teasingly. He looked into the fire. “I think there is more to you than you're telling me”, he grumbled. “Maybe”, I said. “But if there is, I don’t know”. He nodded.

We went to wash our bowls in the lake. The morning sun was shining orange across the sky. “Do you usually hit your lovers?”, the witcher asked out of nowhere. I looked at him questioningly. He gestured at a scratch on his cheek, that I’d apparently left there when I slapped him. I smirked. “Only the ones who ask for it”. He made a scoffing laugh.

“You missed a spot”, I smiled. “Where?”, he said, looking down at his bowl. “There”, I said; took a handful of water, and threw it at his face. I laughed heartily – until I saw his expression. It wasn’t angry, but it was menacing. He wiped his face, and snarled. I threw my bowl on the ground, and ran. “Hurry, little frog!”, he growled after me.

Laughing, I sped towards the trees; him fast at my heels. “Does water make witchers melt, like it does witches?”, I giggled, and looked back towards him. He was gone. My heart was in my throat, and a tingle spread through my body in anticipation. I couldn’t see him anywhere. I spun around, and he appeared in front of me; grabbing me around my waist with one arm. “I don’t know; do witches melt?”, he said, and emptied his bowl – filled with water – over my head. I yelped, and struggled to get away from him. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and my breath hitched. Biting my lip; I smirked at him. “Fire…”, he growled; and grabbed my mouth in a violent kiss, leaving me breathless and panting. “There are plenty of trees around”, I moaned against him; and he picked me up – pushing me against an old oak.

Everything happened fast after that. Frantically kissing and panting; he pulled up my skirts; and put his large hand between my legs – earning a desperate mewl from me. “Mmhmm…”, he groaned; excavating my folds, and sliding two fingers into me. “No bath to confuse your wetness this time”, he growled into my mouth, as he kept kissing me. His fingers hooked, and his palm rubbed against my nub; quickly drawing me closer to my undoing. I was desperately trying to keep my composure; but quickly had to accept the fact that I was coming violently on his hand. He chuckled menacingly at me. “Only once isn’t going to be enough this time”, he said; pulling out his fingers, and tasting my juices on them. “Mmmhmm…”, he smirked.

I was still seeing starts as he was beginning to undo the buttons on his breeches; one knee between my knees to keep me from moving. I managed to push him away; meeting his confused eyes with a teasing smile. I turned him around; and pushed him against the tree; kneeling down in front of him. Looking up at him, his expression had turned primal; the pupil in his amber eyes blown.

I finished the task he had started on his breeches; and reached down into his pants, taking a hold of his hardness – relishing in the soft skin covering the rod-like firmness underneath it. I tasted the salty precum with the tip of my tongue; and closed my eyes, smiling. I gently cupped his testicles; and folded his penis against his stomach; tracing my tongue from the base to the head of it.

Geralt gasped, and put his hand on my head; sliding his fingers into my hair. “Y/N”, he sighed. Giving his balls a soft squeeze; I slid my lips around the head and sucked at it, before moving my head towards the base; massaging it with my tongue all the way.

Geralt let out another gasp; and I released him from my mouth, smiling up at him. “I think I found your weakness, witcher”, I whispered; letting my index finger find the soft skin just behind his testes, stroking it. I pumped his cock, and licked the tip again. “Princess…”, he moaned. I gave his member a firm squeeze, and frowned up at him; removing my tongue from where it had been. Chiding him with my eyes, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry”, he breathed. “Better”, I smiled; and slid him into my mouth again; going as deep as I could without choking.

I kept massaging his balls, and hummed softly as I bobbed my head back and forth. He tasted better than any treat I’d had before. Before long I felt the precious jewels in my hand tighten; and Geralts voice became strained in his moaning. He grabbed tightly at my hair, and cried out – before coming in my mouth. Pulling him out, I looked him in the eyes; swallowed; and smiled.

He stroked my cheek, and looked at me in wonder. In front of my face, his still hard member was twitching; and I gave it a final lick at its head – like it was a delicious sweetie on a stick. “Fuck”, he groaned at me, looking on in amazement. I stood up; straightened my skirts and smiled again. “That was lovely”, I said sweetly, and went to walk back to the horses.

“Not finished!”, he snarled; picked me up; and slammed me against the tree-trunk again. I gasped in shock. “Again?”, I squeaked. “Again”, he growled; hitched my skirts back up, and sank into me with his still rock hard cock.

“Remember what I said?”, he breathed into my ear. I nodded; digging my fingers into his jerkin, holding on to him as he thrusted. “Screaming in pleasure, little frog”. “Do your best, wolf!”, I panted.

Having held on to only one of my legs; he now lifted the other one from the ground; and was now carrying my weight, as he continuously hammered into my core. The familiar tingling returned; turning in to a pulsating warmth; before finally exploding – as I began throbbing around his length.

And then I did as he’d said. I screamed in pleasure.

---

Thanks for reading.

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- no lady

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@ayamenimthiriel​

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic #jaskier #geralt of rivia smut

[13uswntimagines]

As Long As You’ll Be Mine (Alpha!Sam x Alpha!Rose x Omega!reader)

Request: Can you do a alpha rose and an alpha Sam falling for Omega reader but she doesn’t know who to pick.  You can decide who reader gets with

“Hey superstar, I brought you a mango pop. You love mangos,” Sam smiled approaching where you were seated next to Kelley. The alpha wiggles the frozen treat enticingly in front of you, making you laugh loudly.

“I brought her a coconut one so” Rose smirked, sticking her tongue out at the taller alpha. You but you lip to hold back a laugh, as she presented it to you on one knee. “and I got her a sweatshirt,” She threw over her shoulder, winking in your direction.

You blushed. The alphas had a habit of wanting you to smell like them, and fighting over who you smelled like. Hell, they fought over just about anything to do with you, always trying to outdo the other. You knew that you should choose one of them as your mate and put the other out of their misery, but it was just so hard.

They were both so enticing in their own ways. You loved how cute Rose was when she talked about her puppy and pack. How she always made you giggle and how carefree she seemed to be. On the other hand, you loved how cuddly Sam was. How she was always wrapping you in her protective embrace. How she opened doors for you and listened to you so intently. You were falling for both of them and how was an omega to choose? They were polar opposites and you loved them both as much as they loved you.

“She’s already wearing mine,” Sam pouted, the mango pop melting pitifully in her hand, giving you her best puppy dog eyes. She knew you liked how big her sweatshirts were on you, and how you loved it when they smelled like her.

“Well maybe she wants this one,” Rose growled, releasing a few dominant pheromones as she showed you your favorite Spirit sweater of hers. Sam rolled her eyes. You would only wear her UCLA sweater, suggesting that she burn her Courage one when she offered it to you, even going so far to steal one of Kristie’s Dash ones, so you represented her.

“Um, how about I take both, a little piece of both of you?” You hesitantly reached for the offered sweater, trying to avoid another alpha battle. They happened far too often for your own liking.  “Let me get a bowl so the pops don’t melt all over me,” You mumbled, getting ready to stand up, only to be stopped by two hands on your shoulders. It was a bad look to have an omega have to get their own things, especially when the problem was created by an alpha. They needed to prove to you that they were worthy mates. That they could take care of you. They were both falling so hard for you.

“I’ll get it,” They said at the same time, turning to glare at each other. “No, I’ll get it,” They growled, releasing a wave of dominant pheromones and you cringed. You hadn’t meant to cause a problem.

“How about you both get it, together,” Lindsey said with an eye roll, tired of her two best friends fighting.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, watching the alphas walk away, shaking your head, trying to clear out the fog that the pheromones were causing you.

“Hm. You know you’re going to have to pick one of them right?” Lindsey said softly, rubbing your back. You leaned into her comforting touch. Though it wasn’t one of the alphas you craved, it was soothing nonetheless.

“It’s kinda cruel to keep them both on the hook,” Emily added, pointing her popsicle stick at you. This had been going on for months and was getting pretty old if she was being honest. She was tired of the two of them running after you like lost puppies. Plus, when you finally did decide, it would be way harder in the one you didn’t pick.

“I just… I love them both, so much,” You murmured, a wave of guilt and anxiety rolling off of you.

“Yeah, but you can’t have them both,” Lindsey reminded you softly, sending a glare towards her own omega.

“Not choosing is selfish and heartless,” Emily huffed, crossing her arms and ignoring the look Lindsey was sending her way. You collapsed slightly on yourself, clenching your fists.

You knew it was unfair, but you just… your omega wanted them both, but you knew that you would never deserve either of them. You would only cause them pain. You sighed, clenching your jaw. You needed to get out of here, to escape before you could hurt them even more than you already had.

“I… I’ve gotta go,” You shook your head, rushing from the room, hoping that none of your teammates saw the tears threatening to stream from your eyes. Lindsey and Emily watched you go with wide eyes. That hadn’t gone as they expected.

Sam and Rose froze in front of the table, glaring at the seat you had occupied mere seconds ago, unhappy by the heartbreak leaking through your fledgling bond with them and the trail of sad scents that had followed you out.

“What happened, where’d she go?” Sam growled, loudly dropping the bowl on the table. They knew that you felt needlessly guilty about being unable to choose between the two of you, and you really didn’t need any of the team butting in on their behalf.

“What did you do?” Rose spat, taking in the fidget of Emily’s fingers and the way Lindsey was biting her lip.

“Well…”

****

You curled up in the tightest ball you could, burying your face in your knees to muffle your tears.  How could you be so selfish? How come you couldn’t be like a normal omega and know who your mate was supposed to be? How come you couldn’t choose? You were too cruel and horrible to deserve either of them.

A shudder ran down your spine at the thought of what you were going to have to do. At the thought of rejecting them both so they could find more worthy mates. Mates who wouldn’t hurt them like you continued to. You would probably have to quit the team and move to the UK. No, they would follow you there like they had before. Hell, you were probably going to have to quit soccer entirely.

Your soul cracked at the idea. Soccer was your life, but if protecting the two women you were hopelessly falling for came at the cost of your career, then you would give it up in a heartbeat. Pushed yourself further behind the vending machine at the sound of approaching feet. You didn’t want to be found. It would be so much harder if they knew where you were. If they tried to stop you.

“Hey there buttercup, can you come out of there for us?” Sam’s soothing voice broke you out of your spiral. Her nose scrunched up at the amount of distress pouring off of you, her inner alpha growling at the thick scent.

“No, need…-” You stuttered, steeling yourself when the first wave of soothing pheromones hit you. Your omega called out to them, screamed to allow them to comfort you, but you knew that would cause more problems in the end. It would just make this harder. Your thoughts were so jumbled, your instincts warring with what you knew was right. You threaded your hands through your hair, tugging the strands in frustration.

You were so caught up in the fog in your head that you didn’t notice the worried look the alphas shared or Rose squeezing behind the coke machine next to you.

“Shh, baby. Come out so we can talk,” She said, her tone so soft, her calming scent wrapping around you like a blanket. Her hands carefully came up to stop you from hurting yourself. She placed a kiss on the back of your hand as she pulled it to her chest, wrapping a deceptively strong arm around you.

“Don’t want” You struggled, trying to pull away and cuddle deeper into her at the same time. A loud whine leaving your lips. Your breathing increased as you fought your inner omega for control. You couldn’t hurt them. Rose carefully pulled you into her lap and scooted out from behind the machine. Sam wrapped her long arms around both of you the second she was able to.

“Hey babydoll, it’s ok. You’re ok.” She murmured into your hair, her hand cupping your cheek, running her thumb along your cheek. They rocked you back and forth, sighing in relief when your sobs turned into soft sniffles, and your breathing returned to normal. Rose wiped away the stray tears leaking from your eyes, her eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t an overly emotional person as you saw them as giving in to your omega instincts (something you hated).

“What Emily said wasn’t right,” Rose started, using a finger to lift your chin. You huffed.

“But I’m being selfish because I can’t choose,”

“Who said you have to choose?” Sam asked, confused. They were mates, so forcing you to pick one of them would be incredibly painful. They both wanted you, and together you would be the perfect trio.

“I can’t have you both,” You said lowly, you omega bristling at the thought. They were your mates, it was poppycock that you couldn’t have them.

“Hey, we both want you, our alphas call to you as much as they call to each other,” Rose said sternly. She didn’t like the fear, anxiety, and pain radiating off of you, and she didn’t understand your insecurity.

“You don’t have to choose, because we’re both your mates,” Sam said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was your turn to send the women a confused look.

“I don’t have to hurt one of you?” You asked.

“No babe, actually we’d prefer if you didn’t,” Rose laughed, using the edge of her sleeve to wipe your remaining tears, smiling at the relief that flooded your incomplete bond. Sam purred, rubbing her nose along your scent gland, as Rose did the same thing on your other side. You relaxed into their touch. Sure, you were always comfortable with them, but they always avoided being this intimate with you, afraid of pushing you away.

“Be our mate?” Sam asked, placing a kiss where her mating mark would soon be. You sighed into her, grateful for having these women.

“As long as you’ll both be mine”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #sam mewis x reader #sam mewis imagine #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.21

Two Confused Men, Two and Half Culprits

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)  x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 3780

Summary: Jarvis is the half culprit. I wonder who the two confused men could be…. Hint: for once, it’s not Sam and Dean.

Warnings: swearing, brief angst, nightmare (about drowning), brief mention of blood, guilt trip, attempt at humour

Story masterlist ༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺ 

You woke up, suffocating weight preventing your chest from expanding. You remembered dreaming about water, the light at the surface gradually receding from your grasp. All you could see now was darkness, the pressure against your lungs and the burn in them remaining.

Your throat closed up in panic as you fought to suck some oxygen into your airways.

Vainly.

You trashed around, elbowing the warm mass behind you that seemed to be pulling you under – only for the grip on you to grow stronger, your ribcage feeling like collapsing any minute.

You struck harder and the vice-like grip on you loosened with a huffed protest. You instantly rolled away—how were you rolling away in the water? What was that sound?

You blinked away the tears that prickled in the corners of your eyes with your previous effort and chased each inhale, your heart hammering in your chest wildly.

Your vision clearing, eyes adjusting to the dark, you came face to face with a perplexed and very much half-asleep Steve.

Oh thank god, you were okay. No water. No drowning. Just Steve’s strength and nightmares combining and resulting in the least pleasant outcome.

His pupils were dilated in horror and he shot up into a sitting position, blinking away his own daze. With a hand still on your chest, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to dial down your fight-or-flight instincts.

You were safe. Steve was safe, with you, definitely not a danger to you. You still flinched when he rasped out the apologetic words, heavy with guilt and concern.

“Oh my god-- are you okay? Doll? Can you breathe?! Does it hurt? I’m sorry. Oh god, I am so, so sorry-”

You raised your hand in his general direction, gesturing for him to give you a sec.

Rationally, you knew you were fine and you needed to chill the fuck out, but it was a bit harder to actually do so.

Steve let you take your time, ominous silence falling on the bedroom. You forced more air to your lungs, the burn slowly dissolving. You focused on the pleasant soreness instead, the result of your first night together after a long time-- what time it was now anyway?

You snapped your eyes open, finding Steve’s motionless form in the shadows, still sitting on the bed. Only this time, his face was buried in his palms, his fingers tangled in his loose golden strands in a brutal manner, and when you looked at him – truly looked – you detected the slightest tremble of his body.

Any pain caused by his crushing embrace vaporized at instant, the urge to comfort him taking over; big time.  

You carefully reached out to him, your fingers curling around his wrist and gently pulling it away – or attempting to. He didn’t move an inch.

“Steve?” you called out softly, surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded and flinched. Steve did as well and you cleared your throat – uselessly, because the problem was somewhere lower. “Steve, are you alright?”

His hands twitched on his face, but he didn’t withdraw them.

“Steve, are you back with me?” you whispered urgently and the only answer you got was a frustrated muffled groan. Your lips curled up in a tight smile, sympathetic. “I’m okay. Are you?”

“Please stop asking me that,” he breathed out, his palms uncovering his mouth only for the words being comprehensible.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stop,” you promised and wiggled your way closer to him. “Can I touch you further though?”

His ribcage expanded generously with his sharp inhale, but he didn’t respond.

“…please?” you added, pressing further.

“Doll…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking simultaneously with your heart swelling in your chest.

“I know.“ At that, he finally allowed you to lower his hand, the other following its suit. Wet eyelashes created a tiny tornado with their furious blinking when his eyes found your face and saw an encouraging soft smile. “Can I hug you now?”

He opened his mouth slowly only for it to fall shut with no sound coming out. He gave a cautious nod and that was all you needed to wrap your smaller form around the big sad bundle of a supersoldier. You basically climbed into his lap, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, planting a kiss on the top of his head before laying your cheek on it.

Huh, that was nice. No wonder he did the same to you as often as he did.

“It’s okay, Steve. We’re okay,” you whispered to his hair, kissing it again. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“…that’s not what a girl wants to hear when she confesses her love to a guy,” you joked hesitantly, but you could feel his lips curling up in a smile as he breathed in against your skin deeply.

“I love you too,” he cooed, his arms finally sneaking around you and cautiously holding you as close as possible.

“Uh-uh.”

“Exactly what a guy wants to hear when he confesses his love to a girl,” he threw back at you in a hushed voice.

You chuckled breathlessly, swallowing the whine of pain at motion of your chest, and caressed his shoulders without even a thought of letting go.

“Will you be able to fall asleep again?”

“Will you? How are your ribs? Is your breathing okay? I’m really, really sorry, sweetheart. I’ll just lie on the couch-“

“Don’t you dare-“

“Don’t argue with me. I literally just tried to crush your lungs,” he growled, regret radiating off him in waves the size of a tsunami.

“Not intentionally!” you spat back, somehow maintaining gentle tone at the same time. “…right?”

“Of course not! It wasn’t- I would never-- but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen again,” he bargained in the end, sorrowful pools of blue and green shining even in the shadows of your room.

What he said was undoubtedly true. But the picture of having him lying several feet from your reach now (with his mind full of awful scenarios keeping him awake for sure), was unimaginable. Just terrible. Heartless. Not to mention you just got him back!

The solution seemed easy enough, though it was less comfortable; still better than the other option he had offered.

“Then put on your big boy pants and be the little spoon,” you challenged, earning a bewildered look with his eyebrows near his hairline.

“…for real?”

“Yep.”

He observed you for several moments that felt like eternity, while he considered his options. Then he sighed and you knew you won.

“…okay.”

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled at him a lop-sided smile, pulling him down to the mattress again; and he let you.

It was a little ridiculous and definitely strange to switch positions resulting in your arm enwrapping Steve’s thin muscular waist and being glued to his back – not to mention your other arm, where the hell did he usually put the other arm when spooning you? –, but in a way, you enjoyed it, more so when after a moment, his hand covered yours, careful not to apply too much pressure.

It was still the first night after you regained your memories; there was no way you even considered anything that involved Steve not being pressed to you without an inch remaining between your bodies an option.

You scooted even closer to him; you fell back into a more peaceful sleep in no time.

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Steve was very mature about the whole thing – so much that he decided (just like you did) – that you wouldn’t address the matter again. You spent the better part of waking up process making out like your life depended on it and then you might have winced the tiniest bit when Steve brushed your tender ribs, which ended up with him leaving to take a shower.

But not in the ‘oh god, I’m sorry, let me drown in a bathtub’ kind of leave, more like ‘maybe we could at least wait for the evening before we jump each other’s bones again’ kind of leave and it overall felt… rather alright.

With Steve occupied, you moved onto the funnier matters – like going through his closet to find a suitable outfit for your morning shenanigans, while Jarvis kindly replayed a conversation that felt like an ancient history to you.

You found yourself humming under your breath, wondering how good of an opening Tony could give you, when your eyes fell on something that took your breath away; just enough of it to leave some to yell for your soulmate.

“Steve! Steve, come here please!”

There was a crash in the bathroom, rapid pats of his wet feet and he flung out of the door in impressive speed with only a towel around his waist.

“What?! What is it?” he blurted out while he rapidly scanned the room for any danger and you almost felt bad for making him panic.

Almost. Because boy, this was awesome. You held out the t-shirt of your choice to him, amazed nearly beyond words.

“How did I not know you had this?”

Steve blinked furiously, his stance easing when he realized it was a false alarm.

“Christ, doll,” he huffed a relieved breath and sheepishly scratched he back of his neck upon seeing the famous shield on the clothing. “Eh… pretty sure it was a gag gift from Clint…”

“That’s so friggin’ perfect. Can I borrow it?”

His lips spread in a content smile as he walked to you, one hand landing on your shoulder, his lips incidentally catching your temple. “It’s all yours, doll.”

You debated washing your hair when Steve let you use the shower afterwards, but a little devil on your shoulder told you that ruffled hair and overall sleepy lookTM would work much better for you. You smiled at the reflexion with satisfaction, re-entering Steve’s bedroom, giddy.

“So, what do you think?” you asked him cheerily, spreading your arms and turning a full circle to show off your outfit in all its glory.

Steve looked up from where he was making the bed and froze. For a second, his skin paled to a very dangerous shade of white, his gaze glued to the brand on your torso. It gave you a pause; an amused grin you expected, a heated glare caused by you wearing his insignia maybe, but not the look of utter horror.

As fast as he turned to a statue, he recovered, plastering a smile on his face again – but it didn’t reach his eyes, a shadow of something that twisted your gut uncomfortably remaining.

“Looks good on you,” he stated approvingly and averted your gaze to pat at the mattress pointedly. “Honestly, it kinda makes me want to pull you right back to bed and have my way with you in it only.”

“Hold that thought, Captain, and maybe next time leave a different kind of your brand,” you suggested and added a wink, which seemed to finally erase whatever ugly thought had attacked him earlier from his head. “We have a billionaire to mess with.”

“Every time…” he echoed his words form last night, chasing blood to your cheeks and causing a giggle to spill from your lips.

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Steve fell into his role as easily as you did; he led you to the kitchen, your shuffling feet giving an impression of you being only half-awake and hesitant about walking the right direction.

Much to your luck, all the occupants of the Tower were already in the kitchen as Jarvis had informed you prior to entering the room. You smiled at each of them sheepishly, letting Steve gingerly seat you on one of the bar stools – not before you had enough time to show off your supposed pyjama.

Your plan was working perfectly as upon your bashful ‘Good morning, everyone,’ each of the poor Avengers got caught in a different intensity of staring. Natasha was tactful enough to revert her gaze shortly after noticing your choice of clothing, only smirking a bit, while Bruce took a little longer. Clint had been in the middle of stirring his cereal with milk, now paused mid-motion, recovering after about ten seconds. Tony was blatantly gawking at you, the pot of coffee in his hand dangerously atilt.

As if you couldn’t see their reaction, you smiled at Steve shyly. “I don’t want to impose, Steve. I can make my own breakfast…”

He only replied with a sweet smile. “You wanted to try eggs and bacon, right?”

“If it’s not too much trouble… but I really-“

“Nat. Let me take care of you,” he pleaded lowly and wow, the gentle but conflicted look he gave you was an Oscar-nominee-worthy thing.

“Thank you, Steven. You’re very kind to me,” you thanked him genuinely, meaning every word. It earned you a wince from five different people (including Steve, who hadn’t seen that one coming) as you used his full name and it took a lot of your strength not to burst out laughing.

Natasha cleared her throat. “So… how are you holding up? Did you sleep well?”

“Very much. Thank you, Ms. Romanoff… uh, you?”

“Natasha is fine, Nat. And yeah.”

Wow. Not even the great spy was onto you apparently – or she was, seeing right through your little stunt and deciding not to ruin your fun, being that much of a good actress.

Not certain about how exactly to proceed from now on, your gaze travelled around the bar, eyes landing on Tony.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but Clint, as if sensing the nature of his prepared exclaim, shut him up with a glare. You, on the other hand, were an incarnation of innocence on the outside, dying of laughter on the inside already.

“What is it, Mr. Stark? I can see you want to say something,” you nudged him gently and fiddled with your fingers nervously as Steve cracked the eggs in a bowl and started stirring.

“Nope. Not really,” the billionaire cleared his throat awkwardly, something so uncharacteristic of him. “And I told you. It’s Tony.”

“Right. Tony. Sorry.” You would swear Steve’s shoulders shook a little as he put the pan on the stove. You worried your teeth over your lower lip, eyeing your outfit. “It’s the clothes, isn’t it? You want to say I look right at home in it, don’t you? And I am branded on top of that…. It’s okay. I can see you’re barely holding the comment back.”

Tony finally put away the pot, his hands seeming rather frantic as he reached for sugar. “Well, I mean,… eh-“

“It’s a sign of a… successful night, right?”

“I didn’t mean to imply, uhm…“ he started, quickly lowering the cup so he could raise his hands defensively, but you interrupted him, mentally biting your cheek as you charmed your best innocent puppy eyes at him.

“-that last night I got thoroughly fucked?”

Exactly four people choked on their own spit; Steve had been expecting it, though the tips of his ears still turned a pretty shade of red and he stopped cooking, removing the pan before he could burn something. Still, at least he could tell which pipe was for breathing unlike the rest of the Avengers.

Natasha was the first to recover, soon followed by Bruce – they both had somewhat knowing glint in their eye now, figuring out what was this about, or at least partly. Smiles were tugging at their lips.

Tony’s face was definitely the most hilarious one. His eyes were bulged, wheels in his hear whirling rapidly, his mouth opened ajar even though he eventually stopped coughing.

Natasha was kind enough to hit Clint’s back, because he was still unable to breathe in.

You smiled sweetly at both the billionaire and the archer who was now taking a sip of water to sooth his sore throat. It was the perfect moment to casually drop the other bomb on them.

“…’cause I was, just FYI.”

The water sprouted out via Clint’s nose and Tony stumbled towards the counter and he gripped to steady himself; he seemed ready to pass out, gaping like a fish out of water, a perplexed crinkle between his eyebrows.

He looked so comical that you broke down. You burst out laughing, clutching the bar so you wouldn’t crash on the floor to roll in laughter.

You could see precisely when he got the light bulb moment, an accusing finger pointing at you, then at the very red but chuckling Steve, who was making his way to you, and then back at you.

“You-! You-… did you-?! When- what—you!”

His stutter sent you into another fit of roaring laughter. Steve’s arms appeared, sneaking around your waist, pulling you to his shaking chest as he stood behind your stool. In attempt to stop laughing, you turned your head to him to catch his lips in a kiss.

“Thanks, Stevie,” you murmured against his mouth, giggling and kissing him again. His embrace tightened.

“When did you get your memories back?” Bruce queried, a wide smile, rather rare for him, on his face.

Steve’s chin rested on your shoulder as you replied.

“Yesterday.”

“Was it the woman?”

“Yes, we believe so,” Steve confirmed, nuzzling your neck as if the others weren’t truly in the room. Was he afraid them might want to steal now when they knew as well? Please. It wasn’t like you were that popular.

“It just took some time to clear that out with Steve and with myself,” you explained, this time a bit ashamed for real. Steve’s fingers caressed your stomach soothingly over the material of the infamous t-shirt.

Natasha was definitely beaming though. “Understandable. I’m happy for you. Especially for making fun of those two, extra points, you guys.”

“Thanks. It felt amazing. Oh Tony, if you could see your face,” you chuckled again, melting into Steve’s frame when Tony glared at you. “I hope Jarvis caught it.”

“I did. Would you like to see it again now?” the AI offered readily.

“That was mean!” Tony accused you. “And seriously, Jarvis, we will have a conversation about your loyalty.”

“It was funny,” you opposed him, hoping he wasn’t truly offended. He wouldn’t, right?

“Yeah, alright, it was funny. Welcome back, sass queen.”

“Thank you. It’s good to be back.”

“So… do we get a hug or is it like Cap’s hands only?” Clint asked with a teasing smile tugging at his lips, apparently not having any hard feelings despite you causing him to nearly choke to death.

Touched, you hopped off your stool and Steve hesitantly released you.

“I’d love to hug you,“ you admitted honestly, not quite expecting the offer. The more surprising it was, the more it warmed your heart. Who would have thought?

Clearly, accepting the invitation was a mistake.

As Steve let you go, they all went for it at once, starting with Tony and Clint, Natasha joining about two seconds before the most reluctant Bruce did. It was lungs-squeezing, bone-crushing and absolutely delightful.

“Dammit, guys,” you sobbed, indescribably moved by the force they embraced you with. Tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill soon. You would never imagine such a warm welcome from Steve’s friends.

“Hulk happy,” a roar by your ear made you jump and you caught a glimpse of green on Bruce’s neck; it was enough for the levee to break. You started crying like a little girl.

“Oh, девушка…” Natasha’s soft voice reached your ears and you sobbed again, vainly trying to keep more tears at bay.

“Stop making her cry…” Steve muttered, but didn’t sound irritated at all. If anything, he had a fond smile on his face when you got a glimpse of it between the bundle of bodies. ‘I love you and they do too,’ he mouthed at you then, his eyes glistening with tears as well.

You squeezed your eyes shut and attempted to tighten your grip on four people at once. You weren’t sure about the result, but no one complained.

“Yeah, let’s not shed more tears than necessary. Actually, I think this calls for a party,” Clint exclaimed as he patted your back and released you.

Others reluctantly followed his suit – they had to, because letting out only one person from the bundle of limbs and bodies would be difficult. The moment you were left cold again, Steve snatched you back to his arms at instant, which earned him an amused grin from Natasha.

“Barton. I didn’t believe that the day would come, but you actually became wise,” Tony pronounced dramatically. “Big party?”

“Nah, just family,” the archer opposed jovially and you sunk into Steve’s embrace in hopes not to release fresh tears at being considered family. You would have to somehow deal with your family by blood eventually too, but you selfishly didn’t want to think about it just yet. One step at time.

“I’d say I take it back, but surprisingly enough, I agree.”

“Oh, the end of the world is here…” Bruce lamented since the two clowns agreed on something and you chuckled, enjoying their banter probably more than you should.

“Alright. We might want to ring Drapes from Asgard. He does love his revels,” Tony pointed out and exactly five people agreed.

“No shit.”

You, as the sixth, wavered. Not because you wouldn’t want to see the God of Thunder again; it was just that you didn’t think he owned a cell phone. Oh, and he was also off to another planet, you assumed.

“…how exactly do you call Thor? Is there service on Asgard? That would be crazy, right?”

“I heard crazier,” Clint scoffed, pointing at you and not bothering with being subtle.

“That’s fair.”

“Thor told us to call out for Heimdall if we needed him,” Steve explained to you and while you had no idea who Heimdall was, you shrugged it off. You didn’t want to deal with that right now.

You were back, you had your soulmate, you had friends that, unknowingly to you until now, considered you a family and you wanted to just be and be happy.

“I’ll do that…” Tony’s hand shot up as if he was a first-grader offering to clean the blackboard and you sent a silent wish for Thor to survive whatever Stark planned on doing.

“Good luck. Now… I believed I promised you breakfast, doll,” Steve whispered to your ear, nuzzling in your neck again.

It was very hard not to melt at spot. “I meant it, Steve. I can make my own breakfast.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly wine and dine you before we had our… successful night, so if you let me do this at least…” he teased on the lowest volume possible and you slapped his bicep before he released you to make good on his promise,  the radiant smile on his face lighting up the whole room.

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Part 22

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So... I had a lot of fun writing that. I hope you had fun reading :-*

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