#a friend nearly fell the last time she came over

[frivolous-pastel]

My next door neighbors are on an incline from me and run their sprinkler system enough that it's eroding part of my yard into my driveway

Meanwhile I have not turned my sprinkler system on since moving in and my grass is genuinely just as green as theirs

#only part of my yard is getting their runoff #so it's not like I'm benefiting from their sprinklers either #lawn culture #sprinkler systems are dumb tbh #I legit think I need to buy flood bags for the boundary lines #lawn #yard #gardening #I technically have way more grass in my yard than they do #because they have a circle driveway #and now part of the driveway is constantly damp and growing moss #which is fine except now it is actually slippery #a friend nearly fell the last time she came over #like what even

[calumfmu]

i heard you like magic

Steddie x AFAB!reader; 5.9k+ words

Eddie spoke often of Steve, mentioning how much he couldn't stand him, him stealing Dustin from him, being rude, so perfect in his perfect little house. You thought the feeling was mutual until you laid eyes on him, immediately understanding the tension was more than they both led on.

cw: riding, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, p in v, threesome, blowjobs, Steve eating it from the back (gasp!), Eddie being (kinda) dominant, angst, hidden feelings, smut, smut, smut...

“So… this girl…” Steve began, mouth full as he stole a bag of chips off of Robin’s lap. “She’s like hot hot?”

Eddie stared at him, lip slightly curved up in a grimace as he watched crumbs come out of the younger man’s mouth. His affliction for him had grown during the last few weeks, but he still was wary of the man in general. Dustin’s urges to make them friends fell short most of the time, the two men bickering most days an attempt was made. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his body towards Steve, running his eyes over his stupid corduroy sweater.

“You jealous, Harrington?” He asked, grin growing as he saw Steve’s face redden with the accusation. A cough came out of his mouth as he choked a piece of the food down.

“Ladies love me, Munson,” he shot back, cutting a look to Robin as she cackled. A faux serious expression crossed her face as she pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn’t be jealous of someone who doesn’t exist.”

It was a running joke amongst the friend group. Even worse than the questionable presence of Suzie when Dustin first mentioned her, nobody believed it when Eddie mentioned the “hottest chick you’ll ever meet”. He fought for his life trying to convince the group that he did pull, he did have people his age interested in him who weren’t solely into DND.

“But you could be jealous of someone who’s gotten laid more recently than you,” Eddie quipped back, leaning his elbows on the arm of the chair to stare Steve down. Steve sat reclined in his seat on the couch, hand propped on the arm, legs crossed as he held the eye contact. Robin’s eyes darted in between the two of them, finger held in front of Dustin’s face who wanted to cut out the argument before it even began. A growing smile sat on her face, nearly shaking with excitement as the tension grew.

“Is that so?” Steve’s mouth formed an upside down smile, mockery hidden in his words. “Does her name happen to start with ‘Right’ and end in ‘Hand’ by any chance?”

The smirk dropped from Eddie’s face, tongue running over his front teeth between parted lips. Briefly glancing down at the movement, Steve rolled his eyes, shoving another chip into his mouth.

“Wish it was you, big boy?” Eddie sneered, leaning even further as his voice dropped low. Robin gasped around her smile, eyes fixated on Steve as his face turned up, irritation covering his gestures.

“Oh, shove i-”

“Children! Please!” Dustin’s voice cut through the air, hands coming up to wave between the older men. Reluctantly, all three turned their bodies to face the young teen, watching as he pinched his nose bridge. “I swear, somehow I end up watching you guys and your bullshit instead of the other way around.”

The tension dissipated, Eddie leaning back in his seat as Steve crossed his arms over his chest, turning his body dramatically the other direction. Robin sat content, back against the couch and her legs crossed in front of her, eyes fixated on the TV across the room.

“I was just saying,” Steve grumbled, waving a hand in their direction. “Must be hard entertaining your pillow all the god damn time.”

“You know wh-”

“You guys!” The curly headed boy’s voice cracked as he shouted, standing up to move between them. Turning to Steve, Dustin sighed. “Steve… we know.”

Steve smirked at Dustin, eyebrows raising as he felt triumphant. The younger boy shot a look at Eddie sitting there, hating the way Steve just looked so happy as he pushed that perfect curl of hair out of his eyes.

“And… Eddie, I’m sure she’s…” Dustin trailed off, ignoring the protest Eddie gave him as he moved to go sit down back next to Steve. The man gaped at him, eyes flitting between the two.

“Henderson, you don’t believe me either?” Eddie was pissed, standing up as he placed his hands on his hips out of frustration. The younger boy shrugged, avoiding eye contact as Robin’s interest piqued yet again.

“I don’t think anyone believes you,” she said, leaning an elbow to rest of Steve’s knee. Leaning her head in her hand, she raised an eyebrow, chewing at her bottom lip. “You said you met her at a … rock show? Come on, what girl willingly goes to that shit?”

“My girl,” his eyes were glued to the ceiling, his mouth running over rude phrases he didn’t dare utter, no matter how bad he wanted to.

“Eddie, it’s okay, I’ll believe it…” she continued, nodding as she mustered up a serious expression. Eddie’s shoulders sagged in relief, feeling content as he finally had someone on his side. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. “…When I see it.”

“You guys can rightfully fuck off.” And with that, he turned on his heel, storming out of the Henderson home. He ignored Dustin’s calls of his name and the intertwined laughter of the older teenagers, he didn’t have to deal with that shit.

His fingers fumbled with pulling keys out of his pocket, cursing as they fell to the floor before he could unlock the vehicle. Grabbing them, he threw open the driver’s side door, cringing at the squeaking of his weight settling in. She was going to be in town later, the first time he had seen her in a month and two weeks—not like he had been counting. He was going to prove to everyone that she was real, she was Eddie’s girlfriend, everything and more in which he had described.

Eddie’s head was thrown back against the van wall, hair sticking to his forehead with his eyes shut. His fingers left pale marks in your skin, hips flush to his own as he rutted up into you, the smell of sex filling the dense air.

Knees firmly planted on either side of his hips, your fingers were interlocked behind his head, laced in his hair as moans escaped your mouth around his name, bouncing up and down on his cock, hitting that deep, sensitive spot inside of you. You couldn’t get enough of him, the smell of his cologne, his shampoo filling your senses. It had been too long since he had filled you like this, that last weekend you had seen each other lingering in your mind.

Your panties had been pushed to the side, short leather skirt hiked up to your mid section, breasts pulled out of the top of your shirt in the haste of the moment. Eddie’s clothes were still on, cock pulled out of the top of his pants as he fucked into you, jean material dampening as you leaked around him.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, mouth open as he stared at you, his head hit the van wall with every rise and fall of your hips, grunts falling out of his mouth. “You feel so good, so—ah, fuck—fucking g-good, baby.”

“Need you to fuck me harder, baby,” you breathed, grinding your hips in circles as you slowed your pace. You needed him deep, wanted to feel him in places you hadn’t before, anticipation not yet being fulfilled in his previous absence.

His eyes rolled back at your words, the grip on your hips disappearing as he went to grab the globes of your ass. He pulled his feet up, anchoring himself as he began to thrust up hard into you, shaking your body with every harsh movement. His hips began to stutter, brows knitting together as you leaned to press your mouth into his, he was nearing his orgasm, prolonging it to sit in this ecstasy. It barely could classify as a kiss, just a mush of mouths together as you both breathed heavy into it, Eddie sticking his tongue out to brush against yours, groan sitting in the back of his throat.

You felt your hips tense up as you neared your own, slick began nearly dripping out of you, walls clenching around his thick cock. With a shout, you came around him, vision blurring as you clenched, fluttering. Slumping against him, you grinded down, moaning as one of his hands came up to grip at the back of your head.

His thrusts turned slow, deep as he reached his peak, one hand tangled in your hair as the other wrapped around your waist, torsos pressed against one another. You felt a warm rush of liquid as he came inside of you, stilling as he pressed his teeth to your neck, leaving a deep, red mark in the skin.

You caught your breath, legs quivering as you sat on top of him, feeling the dull thud of his heartbeat in his chest. He pulled away from your neck, pressing a quick kiss to the skin before placing another on your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face.

“I missed you, baby,” he whispered, smile lines showing as he looked up at you. You giggled, nodding as you shifted your hips, a low groan escaping his mouth as he remained inside of you.

“I could tell, babe,” you laughed, running your hands through his hair. He hoisted you off of him, tucking himself in before adjusting your clothing, pressing kisses to the skin with every adjustment he made. You let him take his time, giggling with each brush of his lips against your skin.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, leaning up to press a kiss to your mouth. You leaned into it, hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Opening your mouth to him, you quickly nipped at his lip, whining when he pulled away. “You can’t—we’re never going to make it to my friends.”

“And what’s the harm in that?” A hand reached up to place on his chest, smile widening as he gripped your wrist, stopping it from sliding down further.

His face suddenly flushed, eyes leaving yours as he glanced around the van. Furrowing your brow, you placed that same hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to you. He met your eyes, nerves written all over him.

“They don’t, uhhh,” he began, poking out his tongue as he thought of what to say. “They don’t think you’re real.”

Your eyes widened at his words, a moment of silence passing before you cackled at him. His blush deepened further.

“Well, that felt pretty real, didn’t it?” Your hand rubbed at his cheek, other one coming to rest on his thigh as you kneeled in front of him. You pushed a faux innocence on your features, lip jutting out. “I could show you again? Prove it?”

His shoulders tensed as his eyes fluttered shut, cursing as you began to inch your hand up his thigh.

“Babe, you’re going to fucking kill me,” he said, jaw clenching and unclenching. “I’m actually going to die. Death through dick.”

You pulled away, crouching as you stood in the bed of the van, not being able to reach your full stretch of height. You clambered over the passenger seat, sliding in as you buckled up, feet hitched up on the dash. Eddie raised an eyebrow to you, confused as he wasn’t sure what was happening.

You turned towards him, arm stretching around the back of the drivers seat as your body turned.

“You going to sit there and look pretty all night, or do you want to prove to your friends I’m here?” You asked, laughing as he stood up, following your movements. He slid in the drivers seat, pushing your arm away before starting the engine. As he pulled out of the empty parking lot, you kept your eyes trained on him, enjoying the way his hair whipped behind him as wind poured through the side window.

He drove through the streets of Hawkins, knee bouncing as his other pressed the pedals. He chewed on his thumbnail, nerves tugging at his heart. He didn’t mention anything through the drive, but you knew he had so many things on his mind. Why he was so nervous, you had no idea, choosing to remain silent as you leaned back into your seat.

The house he pulled up on was beautiful, two stories, gray panels surrounding red double doors and greenery drowning out the background of the house. There weren’t neighbors any close in sight, the faint blare of music coming from deep in the house.

You glanced towards Eddie, eyebrow raised at the sight.

“You have friends who live here?” From what you had seen of Eddie, he didn’t seem like he would have any association with this type of person from Hawkins. He lived in a trailer with his uncle, prided himself in the social isolation he maintained for most of his life, and enjoyed playing a board game with 14-year-olds, for Christs sake.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled before hopping out to car to run around the van, opening the door for you. You smiled at him, hand gripping his as you stepped out. He closed the door behind you, hand on the small of your back as you began walking up the drive way. “Harrington… Steve, that is. He’s more of a friend of a friend, you know, forced to hang around him.”

The name was familiar, hearing it multiple times over the phone during your late night phone calls. The two of you rounded the side of the house, Eddie reaching up to unlatch a side gate leading to the backyard. From your memory, he claimed to not like the younger man, frustration dripping from his voice as he claimed he “stole the Henderson” kid from him. You didn’t know either of them, laughing at his complaints through the crackling of his voice over the phone.

“Mmm… Steve,” you teased, eyebrows wiggling at him as he lightly pushed you through the gate, shaking his head. You took a few steps, poking his side as he swung the gate closed. Despite his claims of hating the guy, you wondered if there had been something more, Eddie’s character not exactly screaming straight.

“Stop it,” he laughed, hand coming up around your shoulders. The voices and music began louder, a small gathering of teenagers appearing in the distance.

“I’m just saying, babe,” you said, leaning into his side as the two of you made it around the side of the house. You looked up at him, reveling in the way he glanced down at you, cheeks flushed at your teasing. “If he’s cute, just say that.”

He sputtered, mouth dropping open as he looked down at you. “I don’t—that’s not—he’s not-”

A voice cut his words, a younger, curly headed boy shouting out to him. “Eddie!”

You felt the way your boyfriend’s hands tightened on your shoulder, pulling you into him before coming closer into view. The kid ran up to you two, the smile on his face dropping as he glanced over at you.

“Who are you?” He was confused, eyes flitting between you and Eddie and the hand on your shoulder. You laughed, stepping closer to hold out a hand. His gaze narrowed, reluctantly taking hold of it to shake.

You said your name, introduced yourself as “the mysterious girlfriend.” Dustin, as you learned, beamed at the title, laughing out loud before dragging you over to the other people.

“You guys, look at this shit!” He exclaimed, hands on your shoulders as he shook you. You laughed at the loud gesture, feeling slightly nervous as they all looked at you. You heard their disbelief, ‘No way’s’ and ‘Nice, Munson’s’ were thrown in your direction. You were surrounded by the young teenagers, their voices piling over each other as they hounded you with questions.

“How much did he pay you?”

“Lucas, shut up, I doubt he’s that smart.”

“You actually like the music he listens to?”

“You’re like with him, with him?”

It became overwhelming, Eddie’s hands finding your shoulders relaxing you as you didn’t know which one to focus on.

“Relax!” He said, voice loud as it shut them up. He pointed out their names, a blur that you would have to memorize better at a later time. He guided you to one of the lounge chairs, seated next to the older teenagers, a couple in one, leaning against each other, and another in the one across from you, distance between them as they eyed you.

Immediately, you recognized Steve, Eddie’s phone descriptions of him matching true. His chestnut hair perfectly styled, large brown eyes complimenting his features, moles dotted around his face. His gaze was intense on you, jaw clenched as he took you in.

You waved hello and fell into the introductions to the group before settling into Eddie, finding comfort in his broad shoulders. Small talk occurred between you all, Steve remaining silent as his stare lingered between you and Eddie. You didn’t know his deal, confused on how Eddie “hated” him so much when he didn’t match the rude description you had heard so many times.

They were like a little family, all of these people you had just met, mingling with each other perfectly, personalities complimenting each other despite being so different. Before you knew it, you found yourself relaxed among them, Eddie gone from your side as he stood with the younger group of teens.

“Steve, right?” You found your voice, small as a conversation carried on next to you. His eyes shot to yours, eyebrows raising in surprised. He glanced at Eddie briefly before realizing the older man was stuck in a conversation with Dustin, a few feet behind you guys.

“Uhh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me,” he dropped his eyes to the floor, turning his body so he wasn’t staring at you. Laughing under your breath, you recognized what he was doing, trying to ‘play it cool’.

“Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” You didn’t think his eyes could get any wider as he looked towards you once again, breathing even as he pondered over your words. A light smile sat on your face, knees tucked in your chest as your arms crossed around them.

“You have?” His voice was a low rasp as his face turned up. A brief flash of color tinted his cheeks before he adjusted in his seat, chest huffing at the end of his question.

“Yeah, Eddie talks about you, like, all the time,” you glanced at the others, noticing how you and Steve seemed rapped up in your own world. Nobody paid attention to the two of you, stuck in the midst of their own conversations.

“He does—What does he say?” The look on Steve’s face turned up even more, and a glint in your eye appeared as you realized what was happening. The enemy story they had painted about each other wasn’t as true as it seemed.

“Oh you know, this and that,” you chose not to elaborate, giggling at the way he seemed more confused. You didn’t want to toy with your relationship with Eddie, but did want to test the waters to see how far you could push it.

He settled down into his chair, lips pulled to the side as he chewed on his bottom lip, eyes darting out as he didn’t focus on anything particular. He opened his mouth to ask something, instead, chose not to as he sat there, thinking hard.

Smug, you leaned back in your chair, humour on your face as you realized what fun this was going to be. Eddie’s voice was loud as he poked fun at Dustin, laughing as he held the other boy in a loose headlock. You shook your head, noticing the way that Steve spared a few glances towards the two, eyes lingering on your boyfriend, his long hair framing the exposure of his neck.

You found yourself in the bathroom, running your hands under the sink as you stared at yourself in the reflection. A small gasp escaped your mouth as you noticed a dark red mark at the base of your neck, half hidden by your shirt. It hadn’t been there earlier, the ticking of time deepening the wound.

The memory of Eddie’s teeth on your neck sent a rush of heat through your body as you brushed your fingers against your skin. A knock to the door had you sitting up right, pressing the back of your hand to it, cooling its heat.

“Sorry, I’ll be right out!” You called, adjusting your hair before turning to look at your outfit, making sure everything checked out. Moving to turn around and dry your hands on the rack behind you, you startled as the door swung open, Steve standing behind it.

“Oh uh—sorry,” he breathed, eyes quickly glancing over your body as he stood in the way of the door. Your hands had paused mid-movement, gripping the towel between your fingers. “I thought you’d be in the other one.”

“No, I’m in here.” Closing your eyes briefly, you laughed softly at the obvious statement before turning towards him. “Guess I better go.”

Steve nodded, but made no effort to move, instead standing there, hands stretched between the door frame. His eyes ran over one more time, a deep flush covering both of your faces.

“Eddie’s out there, you probably should,” he said, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. In this moment, you realized how handsome Steve really was, understanding Eddie’s frustration towards him because God, was it unfair.

A moment passed as you stared, maybe twenty, you didn’t really know. The awkward air disappeared, filling with a tension of another kind as your eyes held each other.

“Yn?” Eddie’s voice startled you, sending you and Steve into motion as you two ran into each other, you trying to step out of the bathroom and Steve attempting to go in at the same time. You stumbled back, almost losing your footing as his hand reached out to grab you, large fingers stretched across your hip.

Eddie stared down at the grip, expressionless as it slowly fell off of your body, fingertips brushing the curve of your ass as Steve stepped fully in. The door closed with a soft thud behind you, Eddie inspecting your face as his was void with emotion. The hallway was silent, save for the sound of the clinking of Eddie’s chains around his wrist.

“What are you doing?” He asked, voice low as he blinking slowly at you standing there, hands clasped behind your back. The tone in his voice was accusatory, your head cocked to the side, pretending to not know what he was referencing.

“What d’you mean?” You batted your lashes at him, tongue slightly poking out between your smile.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he continued, crossing his arms to his chest. You dropped the look you were giving him, instead stepping to him to place a hand on his chest. Glancing back towards the door, you noticed the shadow of two feet below the crack, in which you could presumably imagine Steve standing there, ear pressed to the door. You looked up into your boyfriends eyes, a devious glint in your eye.

"I'm just making friendly conversation," you said, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. It was warm below your touch, the muscle twitching underneath your lips as he fought his smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he placed his hands on your hips.

The truth was that Eddie knew what you were doing, you knew what you were doing. It wasn't the first time you had toyed with the idea of another person joining the fun that you had together, late night conversations shared over the phone as you explored the ideas of your sex life. You were sure though that Eddie had no idea you would find that person in the midst of his friend group, with someone he had claimed he couldn't stand being around.

"A friendly conversation?" He clarified, head nodding as he smiled down at you. His gaze was mocking as you smirked up at him, head tilted to the side. "With Steve?"

You reached behind you, moving his hand lower on your hip so he gripped the curve of your ass where it met your thigh. His tongue ran across his red lips, you pressing a quick kiss to the wetness it left behind.

"I get it now, Eddie," you breathed against his mouth, inches away from his face. His fingers lifted the bottom of your skirt, dipping closer to the heat between your thighs. "He's so pretty, it's no wonder why you can't get him out of your mind."

Eddie swallowed loudly, eyes widening at your brashness. He had never told you what he truly thought of the man, he just assumed that you believed his words.

"I figured we could have a little fun, the three of us," you whispered at him. "While I'm in town for the weekend."

A slow nod came from him, barely noticeable before he leaned into you, only to be stopped by your finger pressing to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the skin there instead, head leaning back as he realized you weren't finished with your offer.

"Would you like that, Eddie?"

The hand remaining at your waist slid up the expanse of your back, feeling the smooth skin underneath your shirt. You realized the two of you probably looked raunchy, a compromising position that was a little too inappropriate for the public setting of the hallway.

"Me pressed between the two of you?" Your voice was low, intimate between as it carried in the air, but loud enough to be heard on the other side of the bathroom door. You knew Steve was listening, unsure if Eddie was aware of the same fact.

He was growing hard beneath you, the taut fabric of his jeans pressing into you.

"Or if you'd like... imagine Steve pressed between us. I bet he makes the prettiest of noises."

A low groan escaped his throat as he gulped, eyes fluttering shut briefly at the image. You had him right where you wanted him to be, stuck in state of wanting for the situation, offer right at his fingertips.

"How do you know he wants to?" Eddie's voice was shaky as he asked you, brow furrowed. You gave him a look, a silent 'really?' exchanged. You thought he had picked up on the looks Steve had been throwing him, you didn't even need to be around the two all the time to pick up on their sexual tension.

The bathroom door swung open, Steve standing there, flushed in the face as he avoided eye contact with the two of you. Pulling away from Eddie, you didn't adjust your clothing, the bottom exposure of your ass still on display. The front of his clothes were rumbled slightly towards his groin, shirt partially tucked in as if he had just had his hand stuffed down there. You chose to stare at that part of his body, finger coming up to fit between your teeth as he shifted nervously in front of the two of you.

"I'm going to-" He pointed down the hall, quickly leaving the scene before turning around, realizing he was going the wrong direction. You laughed at his descent down the stairs, feet tripping over one another as he scurried away. Eddie stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows raised as he followed Steve's trail.

You pulled down your skirt, adjusting your clothes as you stared down your boyfriend. His eyes held the staircase for a moment before landing on you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed together.

"Told you, babe."

You turned on your heel, following the direction that Steve had gone in to meet the group of teenagers at the bottom. You were giddy with emotion, excited to see where this weekend trip was going to take you.

The younger teenagers had left Steve's house about an hour ago, mentioning something about how boring you all were. Eddie complained at the rude comment, yelling at Dustin to watch his tone. While you enjoyed the company of the teenagers, you felt relieved for Eddie to step out of his 'dad mode' as you called it, wanting to see just how far he would be able to take it without their presence.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had lingered behind, choosing to partake in the weed that Eddie had brought out once the kids disappeared. You stayed back, instead, wading in the pool on your lonesome.

Steve's jaw had dropped once you rid yourself of your clothing, a pink lace matching set beneath as you jumped into the pool. Robin was funny, you learned, she had picked up on the weird, yet obvious behavior he was giving you. She chose to tease him, enjoying the way he crumbled at each quip.

"Pick your jaw up, Steve," she laughed, reaching out to push his mouth closed. He swatted at her hand, blushing deeply as he looked at you to see if you had heard. You did.

The night continued between all of you, Jonathan coming out of his shell more as the drug took its effects, making Nancy cackle with laughter as he shared some story that had happened to him earlier that week. Steve sat at the edge of the pool this time, feet dipped in with his jeans pushed up to his mid-calf. Robin and Eddie sat together, once passing a joint between each other, but now long gone, instead leaning close in each other's personal space. Steve had even opened up, choosing to speak to you more openly than he did previously, a more flirtatious tone taking his words.

"Wanna come up here?" He asked, patting the ground next to him. Steam came off of the water, the heating of the pool being a direct contradiction to his next words. "I think it's much warmer next to me."

You laughed, splashing water in his direction as he blocked his face from the droplets. "I'm sure you'd love that."

"I'm just looking out for Eddie's girl," he said, voice low as he dropped his tone. You swam up to him, leaning your elbows up to the cold concrete. Your arm brushed against his thigh, a sharp sting running through the contact.

"And who's going to look out for you?" You brushed your wet hair from your face, tongue darting out to catch the droplets that crossed your lips. Steve's lip was chewed raw as his eyeline bore into you.

"I think you'd manage just fine," he said, your hand coming up to be placed on his knee. His leg widened slightly at the placement, your damp fingers darkening the material of his blue jeans. He became lost in the touch, mouth parted as he fixated on your fingers.

A curse escaped his lips as you pulled his leg, causing him to fall into the pool with a loud splash. The other teenagers laughed at him, watching the way he bobbed up out of the water, hair flying wildly around his face as he brushed it out of the way. His sweater was about six shades darker, falling heavily on his shoulders as it dripped.

"Fuck you," he laughed, pulling his sweater off of his body, tossing it onto the concrete where he previously sat. He pushed the water in your direction causing a huge splash of water to cover you. A small tussle in the water began, you begging him to stop through tears of laughter as he repeatedly threw water in your face. You tried getting him back, failing as his wingspan was much wider than your own.

Eddie stared at the two of you, smile tugging at his lips. He was more okay with this than he should be, his dick thinking before his brain, he figured. Your words earlier confused him, had him questioning if the strong emotion he had felt for Steve this entire time was really hate—or if it was something else.

Jonathan stood up, stretching as Nancy followed his lead, "Hey, man, I think we're going to head out. It's getting pretty late."

Eddie bid a goodbye, eyes lingering on the two of you as you messed around the pool, you on Steve's back before he stood up to his full height, sending you flying backwards into the water. The flash of your matching set had him hardening in his pants, the promise of what was going to come later on the tip of his tongue.

"Rob, you coming?" Nancy asked, now standing in front of the sliding glass door. Robin shrugged, leaning back on her elbows. Nancy stared at her as if she wanted to say something, while Jonathan stood there, yawning into his elbow.

"I think I might want to stay back, you know, hang out," she said, eyes fixated on the two of you messing around in the pool. Silence lingered between them, all three pairs of eyes on her for a moment before she noticed, glancing up at them. Her fingers stopped in their tracks, caught balled up as they rubbed against her eye.

Eddie's gaze was incredulous, a bored look crossing his face as the brunette sat there, confused for a moment. Nancy shifted where she stood, blinking rapidly as she tried to hint with her eyes towards the two of you in the pool.

Realization crossed her features as she finally looked over at the two of you, mouth dropping open. "Ohhh," she said, nodding slowly as she met Eddie's gaze. Her thumb pointed in the pool's direction, chipped black polish covering the nail. "You want to—with Steve—oohh, and your girl—"

With a shake of her head, she laughed out loud, clapping her hands together. Eddie blushed, hating the way that Robin was just so loud and bold with her statement. A smug look crossed her face as she stood up, smoothing out the back of her shorts with the palms of her hands. She smirked at Eddie, saying "Fucking finally." before walking in the direction of the couple at the door. Eddie laughed under his breath, disbelief in his mind as everyone seemed to have noticed before he had.

"What's going on?" He heard Jonathan whisper at Nancy before he was shoved inside by the girl, Robin's laugh echoing behind him as the door closed.

Focusing on the two of you in the pool, Eddie grew nervous at the situation becoming more real. The two of you had stopped play-fighting at this point, standing in front of each other—closer than you should've been—as you tread the water. Somewhere along the way, his pants had joined the discarded sweater, dripping on the concrete. It had been a struggle for him to get them off, him cursing at you as you laughed, watching him struggle with the wet denim.

Your voice was a low whisper as you spoke something to Steve, chin tilted down as you look at him through your lashes, wet as they clumped together. Eddie could recognize that look anywhere, knowing that it already had Steve crumbling inside. He watched as your hand came up to brush against the hair on his chest, finger running up to brush against the adam's apple, applying a little bit of pressure as Steve gulped beneath the touch.

You swam a bit closer to the man, aware that Eddie was watching from afar. Steve was nervous, you could tell by the way he remained silent and still in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, invading his personal space as you made a show of biting your lip.

Coming even closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing in relief as his hands came up to your waist below the water. He gave you the green light, welcoming your touch as nervous fingers found their place on your hips. Warmth found you, filling your body in the coolness surrounding you. Pressing your chest to his, you parted your lips, stopping inches before his mouth.

For a moment, you stood there, none of you daring to make the first move as you both stared at each other, gazes interchanging between eye contact and staring at your mouths.

Steve leaned in first, capturing your lips into his as you moaned softly, tangling your hand in the wet mat of his hair. His mouth was soft and warm as he kissed you, hand sprawling over the small of your back as he brought you further into him. Your knee hitched up, hooking around the back of his leg as your lips moved together.

Suddenly, Steve pulled away, realization crossing his face as he turned toward Eddie, who stared at the two of you, mouth dropped open. His hands didn't leave your waist though, fingers digging into the skin as he felt lost in the moment. Feeling his hesitation, you held onto him tighter, leaning up to whisper in his ear as your eyes remained on your boyfriend.

"It's okay, Steve," you said, dropping a hand around his neck to trail down his chest. His breathing quickened as his gaze remained on the older man. Eddie looked like a predator watching its prey, hand lingering on top of his bulge, yet not moving. "Eddie wants you, just as much as you want him."

Steve let out a small moan at your fingers dipping below his boxers. Your fingers brushed the skin there, running across the thatch of hair that sat on his pubic bone.

"You want him, Steve?" He nodded dumbly at your words, eyes fluttering as you gripped him, fingers closing around his cock. You pressed a kiss to a spot beneath his ear. He groaned, hips thrusting up as you began to work him. "And I'm sure you want me too, right, Steve?"

He turned his head towards you, capturing your lips into his as your fingers ran over the length of his cock. He panted into your mouth, hips rutting up into your hand as you made out with him, tongues becoming nearly one as the kiss became dirtier. The feeling of him on you had your pussy fluttering, a throbbing between your legs as you imagined him pressing inside of you, stretching you out as you choked on Eddie's cock.

"Baby?" Eddie called out, pulling you away from the kiss. Steve moved to follow your lips, a trail of saliva connecting you two. Giggling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, stopping him as he chased you.

"Yeah?" Your voice was rough as Steve snuck a hand down, pushing your panties aside so he could run a finger along your slit. He pressed his lips to your neck, marking the skin right next to where Eddie had earlier. Another rush was sent to your core as you realized you were being claimed by the prettiest boys in Hawkins.

"Come out, I need to touch you," Eddie stood up, proudly adjusting the bulge in his pants as he stared down at you two. You pulled away from the man, not ignoring the way he whined at the separation. His hand slowly left your panties, dipping quickly at your clit before he completely removed himself.

You climbed out of the pool, sitting on the ledge before swinging your legs over, standing up to run over to your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laughing as his hand reached down to grab at your ass, a loud smack filling the air. He leaned down to kiss the taste of Steve off of your lips, taking his time in the embrace. Pulling away, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, eyes looking over your head to Steve.

He remained in the pool, eyes low as one of his hands was below the water, running over his own hardness in his pants.

Eddie turned towards the door, walking with you in his hands before turning towards Steve. "You coming, Harrington?" The two of you stepped inside, hearing the commotion behind you as you made your way towards the stairs. It was a splash of water and a loud curse as he clambered out of the pool, nearly planting his face into the concrete as he ran to catch up to you two.

You were pressed into the mattress, stomach flat on the bed as Steve hovered above you, hand on your neck to crane your head back to kiss him. The angle had your neck twisted, his cock digging into your ass as he lay above you. He ground his hips into you repeatedly, growing harder by each passing second as he moaned into your mouth.

Eddie's hands ran across your face as he sat in front of the two of you, legs splayed wide with his back pressed to the headboard. He lies almost completely naked, boxers pushed to his mid thigh as he ran his hand over his cock, working it to the sight of you and Steve making out above it.

It was the most compromising position you had found yourself in, heat flowing between your legs as all of your senses were filled with the men around you. Eddie groaned loudly as Steve's hand reached down between your legs to rub at your pussy, fingers dipping behind the lace of your underwear. Widening your legs with his own, he pushed a finger inside of you, smiling at the way you moaned into his mouth, saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth as you pushed your ass into his hips.

"Fuck," you moaned, working your hips to meet his pumps half way. Dropping your head down to rest on Eddie's thigh, you groaned at the feeling, your own hand reaching up to replace Eddie's. His head hit the back of the headboard, a bead of precum dripping out of the head.

Steve removed himself from you, the heat leaving you whining even as he pulled you up to your knees, pushing down the small of your back so you arched up into the air. You leaned on your elbows, briefly glancing behind you as Steve pulled down the lace panties, leaving them stretched between your knees.

Eddie's hand came up to lace in your head, tugging your towards his cock as you mewled at the feeling of Steve's tongue on you, lapping between your folds. It had you jumping, eyes fluttering closed before you wrapped your lips around the head of Eddie's cock. A groan in unison flew from all of your mouths as you pushed your hips back, grinding into Steve's face as you simultaneously pushed further down on Eddie.

Eddie's hand tangled into your hair to stop you from deep throating him, feeling his orgasm already building up in him as he looked at Steve licking into you. The man's eyes were shut as he dipped his tongue in and out of you, flattening his tongue to run up your slit, daring to flick his tongue over your hole, cheeks pulled apart to expose you completely. Eddie groaned as you hollowed your cheeks, hand moving to cup at his balls, bobbing your head over him. The two of you were so locked into the moment, it made his head spin.

"Fuck, Harrington," Eddie groaned, widening his legs as you jerked him, tongue running up his length from his balls to the tip. Spit and precum covered your lips as you sucked at the tip, staring up at him. "You look like you love that shit."

Steve hummed, eyes darting open to find Eddie staring at him, hands tangled in your hair as you choked on him. He smirked, nodding as he leaned down to suck at your clit. You moaned again, hips pressing back into his face.

"She tastes good," he muttered in between licks, tongue darting at your ass as he slipped two fingers inside. You fluttered around him, sticky white covering his fingers as they moved inside of you.

"You wanna fuck her next?" Eddie asked, pulling your hair out of your eyes as he began to slowly fuck your throat, enjoying the way you gagged around him when he pushed too far. You moaned at the conversation, both boys pretending like you weren't even there as they spoke about you.

Steve lifted his head, eyes focused on his fingers as they moved inside of you, other hand thumbing at your ass, watching the way he arched into the touch. Dipping his thumb inside, you moaned, another glob of slick falling around his fingers.

Looking up at Eddie, Steve nodded, cock pressed into the side of your ass from the angle he kneeled at. A third finger pressed into you and you pulled off of Eddie, your hand replacing your mouth as you whined into his hip.

"Fuck--I need something, baby," you moaned, pushing your hips back into Steve as he fingered you. Eddie nodded at your words, understanding the overstimulating emotion you felt. He sat up, fingers running through your hair as your mouth was drawn up in a silent sob, eyes squeezed shut.

"Move, Harrington," he said, squeezing the base of his cock as you panted into his thigh. His orgasm was on its verge, threatening to burst as Steve leaned down to shove his face even further into you than before, tongue moving rapidly as you rocked against his face.

Steve hummed a 'no', his fingers leaving you to rub at your clit, rubbing faster as you began to whine, hips twitching at his movements. It was almost too much for you, your orgasm flowing through you as you felt blinded, a scream caught in your throat. You buried your face into Eddie's thigh, fingers digging marks into his skin as you rode it out.

Eddie's fingers ran through your hair, irritation on his face as Steve slowly straightened up, smirk on his wet face. He licked your remnants off of him, hand shoved down the front of his boxers.

"You're such a brat, you know that, Harrington?" Eddie grumbles, maneuvering you so you lay on your back. You stared at the ceiling as you caught your breath, eyes fixated on Eddie as he crawled over to Steve.

His hand came up to grip his face, fingers digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look into his eyes. Steve's smirk was wide, eyes darting between Eddie's mouth and eyes.

"You're going to do something about it, then?" You moaned as Eddie crashed his lips into the younger man's, his clothed cock rubbing against Eddie's exposed one. The noises they made were pornographic, Steve running his hands over his hair, his back, his chest, anything he could touch. You could tell the moment had been building up for a while, their mouths moving over each other like they had been starved. Eddie pulled away first, reaching down to smack at Steve's ass.

"Go lay down."

Steve threw himself beside you, head tilted in your direction as he looked at you, chest heaving, breasts exposed. He reached up to grab one, fingers running slowly over the nipple as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Get up, I want you to ride him, baby."

Eddie's voice had you shivering, legs shaking as you stood up on shaky knees, palms pressed to Steve's chest. You grabbed his boxers, sliding them down his legs before tossing them to the side. You threw a leg over his waist, sitting on him, cock nudged in the cave of your pussy.

You moved your hips slowly, grinding against him as he moaned beneath you, head falling into the pillows as his hands found your hips, guiding your movements. Eddie kneeled behind you, boxers discarded now as his wet cock nudged into your back.

"Bend over, baby," He whispered into your ear, pressing a palm flat to your back as you leaned to press your chest into Steve. You kissed him, moving as you felt Eddie reach between you, guiding Steve into you. He was dripping wet, head pulsating as he pressed into you, slowly stretching you out.

The both of you moaned into each other's mouths, one of Eddie's hands running down the shaft of Steve's dick and the other pressing your hips down onto him. Once fully seated, you moaned, hips twitching as you felt him pressed in all the right places. Eddie's hands went to move you, raising slightly before stopping, your hands gripping at his waist as you tilted your hand to look back at him. He was fixated on where you two met, tongue poked out the corner of his mouth.

"Gimme a sec- I needa second-" You whined, not used to the width. Where Eddie lacked in girth, he made up in length, head often catching onto your cervix, having you whining, running from the brutal, yet blinding feeling most often. You felt Steve laugh slightly, the movement of his body having you drop your head to his chest, vibrations running through your body.

"I know, baby," Eddie whispered, moving your hips slowly as he guided the rise and fall of your hips. Steve stretched you out good, eyes squeezed shut as his moans carried in the air, arms wrapped around your torso. "Come here, baby."

You sat up, grimacing at the way you sank deeper. Eddie brought you to his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder as his hand snaked down, rubbing circles over your sensitive clit, breathing deep into your ear. He guided you with his other hand, not slowing down as he bounced you, eyes on Steve as he fell apart below you.

Eddie's guidance was brutal, not allowing you to slow down as you and Steve neared closer to your breaking points. Every touch Steve tried to give you, Eddie smacked it away causing Steve to curse at him, frustration amidst his high. He pulled at his hair, hands running over his face as he brought a pillow over him. You heard him shout into the pillow, feet coming up to rest on the bed as his knees bent, using the angle to fuck into you harder.

You came for a second time that night, a shout on your lips as Steve hips paused below you, filling you up as you clenched around him. Eddie let out a low laugh as he let go of you, watching the way you fell forward, chest smacking into Steve as he pulled the pillow away from his face.

"How was that, Harrington?" He teased, ignoring the way Steve threw the middle finger at him, running his other hand over your forehead, wiping the strands of loose hair that stuck to the skin. He slipped out of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Eddie leaned over you, your body sandwiched between the two men as you felt him prod at your entrance, pushing the cum that dripped out of you back in with his cock. You whined, pressing your face into Steve's shoulder as he pushed inside.

"Tell me if it's too much, baby," He whispered against your skin, hips moving slowly into you as you pushed back against him. His hips stuttered with each movement, you knew he was close before he even began. The overstimulation had you whining, a deep ache forming between your legs. His fingers dipped in between you, gripping at your boob as he fucked into you. You mouthed at Steve's neck, feeling his fingers run over your forearms, soothing you through Eddie's hips stuttering into you. Profanities fell from his lips, having you fall apart with each word.

You're so beautiful, baby, fuck—you look so good on my dick.

Such a slut, such a slut for me.

His hands wrapped around your throat, forcing your head back to look at Steve, head jerking forward with each movement of his hips.

Such a slut for Steve, too, huh, baby?

Look at him, baby, he loves this shit.

Steve moaned, cock stirring up again as you fell apart between the two of them, dripping down onto him.

Think you can cum again? Cum on my cock, show the brat what a good girl looks like. You think you can do that? Cum for him, and maybe we both can be inside of you... think about it, both of our cocks ins-

You shouted, eyes rolling back as your final orgasm left your body. Eddie followed suit, already hanging on by a thread, waiting for your cue before letting go. His orgasm was loud, a FUCK escaping his lips as he spilled inside of you.

He let you drop against Steve fully this time, listen to the whispers of him soothing you in your ear, you did so good. He collapsed next to the two of you, chest heaving as he watched the way Steve grabbed you in his arms, your head nestled into his chest. He hated to admit it, but you looked good in his arms, even better with the two of them surrounding you.

He felt Steve's eyes on him, glancing up at his doe eyes, wide as they bore into him.

"So... is this something we talk about or...?" Steve's voice was raspy, hand running circles into your back. You had fallen asleep, quickly and silently as every ounce of you was spent.

Eddie laughed, his own hand coming up to rest on you. Subconsciously, you leaned into the touch, a deep sigh spent into Steve's skin.

"I'm pretty sure everyone already knows," he muttered, laughing at the look on Steve's face. His mouth sputtered open, swallowing deeply.

"They said that?" Eddie's heart began racing at his look, nervous at the man's look. He didn't want to fuck this up, whatever this was. His feelings had been pushed down too far, for too long; he didn't want to confess, just to be rejected again.

"No, but—uh, I think that's why they left," he said, gaze dropping from Steve boring into him. "Rob said something about 'finally' before... they left."

Steve stayed silent, nodding as he looked down at you in his arms, snuggling into the heat of his arms. He didn't know what to say for a moment, opening his mouth repeatedly as he took back the sentences he began, but didn't finish.

An awkward silence lingered in the air, Eddie turning over as he figured Steve wouldn't say anything else in the moment.

"Well, I guess that takes care of it, then," his voice cut through the air, Eddie's head whipping around to stare at him, eyes wide with the fear of his next words. "Makes it easier for, ya'know."

Eddie laughed out loud, shocked at how this moment could've passed so much easier. "Makes it easier for what, Harrington? Us fucking each other?"

Steve blushed, a quick nod thrown to him. "Guess you could say that."

You sighed, lifting your hand to grab at Eddie's shoulder. Both boys looked at you, surprised at the movement as you should've been asleep, deaf to the conversation around you. You peaked your eye open at them, squinting in the bright light of the room.

"This means I have to visit more often, yeah?" Steve's laughter vibrated you, his chest shaking as Eddie leaned up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You preened at the touch, blushing as he looked down at you. Both boys were beautiful, smiles wide as their laughter carried through the room. It was a shock how you didn't implode right then and there, heart full as they held you.

a/n: I didn't know how to end it, don't hate me. I also don't know how to write anything less than 5k.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #steddie x reader #steddie x you #Steve Harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #smut #steddie x reader smut #steddie smut #okay #I've been thinking of this for ages #so I had to share #and idk how to write short things #someone pls help

[soundlessdreamss]

Can I have a Lucifer vs Alastor fighting for the reader romantically, please if possible yanderes...

Lovely riddance

part two

pairings: y!alastor x reader & y!lucifer x reader

Note: reader will be a fallen angel for this! (Also this is prolly ooc)

You were a normal sinner (totally a sinner and not a fallen angel) living in hell you were in hell because of you questioning heaven which led to them throwing you down here… but you realized how different the other people in hell were compared to you. it just made you feel very weird, a total standout!

it made you miss heaven. A lot. Since you had made so many friends there and now you just lost it all. Well not all of it to be exact, your old friend Lucifer is the king of hell because he was the first one to rebel against heaven. You admired him for being so fearless against heaven themselves.

as you were in your own thoughts on the street of hell suddenly you passed by a poster that snapped you back to your senses. You suddenly scooted back to the poster and read it “want to be redeemed so you can live a gorgeous life in heaven? Well visit the hazbin hotel and let yourself be purified!” Oh my god. This could be your chance to meet other people like you! You decided to fly over there since the other angels didn’t rip off your wings when you fell down.

after like 69 minutes of flying (lol) you finally made it to the hotel! You couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious though, what would they think about you? Would they make fun of you? Would they humiliate you if you did one thing wrong- no you couldn’t let that stop you. This could be your chance to find your friends in heaven again. You knocked on the hotel door and waited for a response. It felt like it was taking forever until a blonde haired girl opened the door. (It only took 3 seconds for them to open the door but okay.)

she nearly screamed out of joy when she realized someone actually came to the hotel to be redeemed. She gave you a hug and welcomed you into the hotel where all the people there introduced themselves. There was Charlie, Vaggie, Angel dusk, Husk, Nifty, (nifty is a cutie) and a snake who you didn’t bother remembering his name cause it was too long. (Totally not an excuse to not have to write his name)

you almost choked though when Charlie said her last name was Morningstar, like Morningstar as in Lucifer Morningstar? She was his daughter?! You had no idea him and Lilith had a child but you felt happy for them. Not until she told you her mom left her 7 years ago. (Lol)

To your surprise (and relief) they accepted you and treated you nicely. And you recognized Vaggie but didn’t out her because you had a feeling that she didn’t want that to happen and you respected her.

All of a sudden a man just teleported out of the floor and tapped you on your back which made you scream so loud. He chuckled and said not to worry as it was him, the radio demon! And he also introduced himself as Alastor. He grabbed your hand and kissed it which made you a bit confused but you rolled with it. Over the couple of days you had spent there you bonded really well with all of them, but alastor specifically wanted to spend a lot of time with you.

he often invited you to brunch, dinner, and to help him work on the hotel. Had you caught his eye? Maybe… maybe you had caught his eye more than you thought you did. (He also may or may not be planning to make a deal for your soul.)

timeskip to when Charlie invited her dad over. ——————————————————————————————————————

you had all prepared for the place to look nice since the king of hell was coming to visit! Aka Charlie’s dad, and you wanted to make a good impression on him after you haven’t seen eachother for such a long time. He seemed happy that his daughter was inviting him over based on the tone of his voice when Charlie called.

You guys all got in position and Charlie was about to open the door until Lucifer barged in and greeted his daughter with a bear hug! He looked around the place awkwardly after and Charlie introduced him to everyone in the hotel. He stared at you for a couple of seconds not knowing if it was really you. He was about to speak to you until alastor teleported right next to you.

Alastor put his hand on your shoulder and had a death grip on it. Like he didn’t want Lucifer to even be near you. They both introduced themselves to each other and as they were talking about the hotel ideas, Alastor pointed out a thing you did for the hotel which helped them a lot. He brought your face to his as he put his hand around your neck pulling you closer. Your face was squished with his. He only did this though to simply piss Lucifer off and trick him into thinking that he had got to you first and that you guys have a deep connection.

as you pulled yourself away from him and looked at the two it suddenly felt as if there was an intense aura in the room all of a sudden. You laughed nervously and tried to excuse yourself before Lucifer grabbed your hand.

he was nervous and tried to compose himself to talk to you as it had been so long since you two had talked. Wtf was he even suppose to say? He decided to finally speak after an agonizing 5 seconds.

Lucifer: “oh [reader]… it’s been so long since we’ve last seen eachother! How have you been doll?”

[reader] : “oh I’ve been just fine. Well despite the fact that heaven kicked me out, it feels better here. Like I can actually breathe in this place.”

Lucifer: “good to hear. Would you mind visiting my palace sometime? Id like to show you some of my latest creations, especially one I made just for you!”

his smile became wider and his eyes seemed more sincere like he really wanted you to visit. I mean after all you guys haven’t seen eachother in eons!

before you could reply to his offer, Alastor grabbed your other hand and yanked you away as he chuckled.

Alastor: “I’m sure they would love to visit you sometime, but they’re busy with me today as I invited her to dinner and they accepted. Didn’t you dear?”

you suddenly remembered that you and Alastor were gonna go out for dinner tonight and you nodded your head.

[reader] : oh that’s actually right! I totally forgot about that for a minute. Well Lucifer would you like me to visit anytime I’m free if that’s okay?

Lucifer: oh, that’s just fine! Just try to make it soon cause I can not wait to spend time with you again!

his smile faded a bit and he seemed to give a glare to Alastor. In response Alastor simply had a wide smile as he continued to hold your hand after yanking away Lucifer’s.

After the argument with Lucifer and Alastor over Charlie was done.

───────────────────────

Finally everyone calmed down after they argued over who Charlie preferred as a dad. Thank god Mimzy barged through the door before another fight broke loose. After a couple minutes Alastor decided to tell everyone you and him would be leaving for dinner about now, you thought it was later but alright!

as you guys left through the door to go to your favorite restaurant, Alastor couldn’t help but giggle feeling Lucifer’s eyes burning a hole through him. He knew it pissed him off and he was glad that it did. And little did you or Lucifer know the Alastor was making more and more progress to his plan. His plan was to woo you enough so that you’d made a deal with him for your soul.

of course you’d get benefits aswell! Alastor would be at your every beck and call and you would do the same for him. It would just be a matter of time before he proposed the idea to you. He just hopes a certain someone wouldn’t mess it up.

part two coming soon…

note: hiii to everyone who read this, I’d like to thank you all for all the likes on my previous two posts! I’m going to be working on part two sooner or later. Also sorry is this is a bit ooc, I’m new to writing fanfics and tried to make alastor manipulative like he is in the show. :)

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel

[starkeyisthelastname]

kinda curious about how the first time with stepdad!rafe be like

btw love your writing sm oml🤍

(Thank you sweetness! 🤭💕)

He had treated you to an entire day of shopping on the mainland, letting you get anything you wanted. From Sephora to Chanel, he spent it all on you. He had been buttering you up for the last few weeks, letting his gentlemen come out every second. You were naive, needing someone to guide you through your newly adult years.

He had made sure his wife wasn’t home that night, thanking this was a weekend she had went on a girl’s trip with her friends. He had even said yes to watching a movie with you in your bed, his goal to get his cock in you that same night.

“Hold your legs back for me.. yeah there you go.” Rafe’s voice low as he helped you bend your smooth thighs back. He had you nearly folded in half, pink pussy at the perfect angle for him to slide into. He saw your face, cheeks already flushed as you tried to shy away from him. As open to the idea of him teaching you what a real man should do, he also knew you were worried about your mother finding out. “Hey, look at me. Yeah?” He said, dick in hand as he slid it over your soaked folds.

You glanced at him, wispy lashes fluttering as your pretty lips opened in a small whimper. “I’m scared.” You whispered. You had only had sex once before and he wasn’t anywhere as big as Rafe. You also knew that this was wrong, but your naive self also had thing for strong male figures and wanting to completely devote yourself to them. Even if this one happened to be your stepfather.

Rafe’s hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your smooth skin as he stuck the tip near your entrance. “Don’t be scared sweetheart. I promise you it’s gonna feel good.” He whispered, slowly pushing himself in your tight cunt for the first time. “Yeah… daddy’s gonna make you a good little slut.” His blue eyes rolling back as your hot little cunt swallowed him.

Your mouth fell open, eyebrows squeezing together as you felt his fat length fill you up. You couldn't seem to say anything, words at a loss as he began to trust his toned hips. Your tummy fluttered, eyes glancing up at the handsome man above you.

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, eyes flashing dark as his messed up mine got off on the fact he had his dick buried up his step-daughter’s cunt. His thumb came down to rub your pearl, watching as you let out the prettiest moan he had ever heard. “You like that shit?” His voice rasped out to you.

All you could was nod your head, moans only growing louder the harder he went. The way your hips were angled had him hitting your hole at a brutal pace, your own parts betraying you as the sound of wetness filled the room.

He smirked, loving how he had you exactly where he wanted you. Wrapped around his finger to be a good cock slut. “Yeah… there you go. Take that dick up your princess cunt like a good girl.”

His nasty words, only make you wonder what else he had in store for you moving forward. The tiny voice in the back of your head, making your French nails tap his lower abdomen. “Rafey.. we sh-should stop.” You mumbled, struggling to cease the funny feeling that was growing in the pit of your belly.

Rafe looked at you, thrusts coming to a halt. He watched your eyes widen, glossy lips frowning despite you telling him to stop. “Why you fuckin crying for then when I slow down? Huh?” He asked eyebrow raised as he heard the whine come from your open mouth. “Better start using your big girl words or I will fuckin stop. You and I both know you don't want that baby.”

#rafe cameron #step!dad rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut

[barcaatthemoon]

closing the distance || alexia putellas x reader ||

you surprise alexia with your transfer to barcelona.

alexia looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed. the two of you usually facetimed each other for a little while after your respective trainings. it wasn't uncommon for you to just be sitting in your car while you spoke to her, so she didn't question anything in the background.

"hi baby," you greeted alexia. her lips curled into a smile at the term of endearment. the two of you were alone, which meant that alexia didn't have to act so serious. "how did you sleep?"

"as well as i can without you next to me. when will you be down for a visit? i've been missing you," alexia said. you were surprised that she hadn't been whining and pouting a lot more. usually, she threw a little fit until you slotted her into your schedule. alexia was very needy, which had surprised you whenever the two of you first got together.

"soon, very soon. that's actually why i'm calling you right now. i thought that you'd want to know before the news actually breaks." alexia sat up in her bed, knowing exactly what you were talking about already. the two of you had already been through several conversations about your transferring once your contract was up. a lot of the girls had been sad to see you go, especially stina and frida, but you needed to be closer to alexia.

the two of you had been together for a long time, already having lived together for short stints of time whenever you were still living in spain. your transfer to arsenal had nearly destroyed your relationship, and if it wasn't for alexia's spanish teammates talking some sense into her, you knew that it would be nonexistent. however, now the two of you were approaching a few years together, and the natural progression of things to you felt like marriage, which you knew alexia would only agree to if you moved to barcelona with her.

"i want to hear you say it," alexia said.

"it's not official yet, i have to sign the contract first," you told her. alexia's face fell for a moment, but only until you spoke up again. "that's what i was trying to tell you. i'm in barcelona for a bit, and i was wondering if i could stay with you for the week."

"you don't have to ask, this is your home too," alexia told you. you smiled as you moved to get out of your car, which was the first time that alexia realized you weren't in london anymore. "are you outside of apartment building?"

"i am. i had my last practice last week," you told her. alexia dropped her phone as she ran out to see you. you laughed to yourself as you hung up and slipped your phone into your bag. within a minute, alexia was running out to the parking lot and nearly tackling you in a hug. "ale!"

"te amo-," alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek, "-i have missed you, mi amor."

"i missed you too, baby." alexia lifted you up off of the ground in her arms. she set you down gently, pressing several kisses all over your cheeks. you laughed from the sensation of her lips tickling your skin slightly. "let me grab my suitcase and we can go up together."

"don't bother, i've got it," alexia said confidently. you rolled your eyes at her, but let her grab your bags anyway. "i can't believe that you're moving back in with me. we can eat breakfast together, go out for lunches, and i can show you all of my mami's recipes. i don't care about anything other than catching up with you this week. i'm keeping you all to myself."

"you can have me until i sign my contract. i did promise mapi that we'd go out for drinks if i ever came back to barcelona," you reminded alexia. it had been one of the only ways for you to convince the defender to let you go. you had been a good friend of hers at athletico when you had played there together, and she was almost worse than alexia about the idea of losing you.

"i am sure that i can convince you to stay in with me." alexia wiggled her eyebrows and flexed a little. as silly as you found her sometimes, the flexing was unfortunately extremely attractive to you. it was alexia's surefire distraction, and she knew it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

I Hate You. | F.W.

summary: They had been friends since the moment they met, but what happens when she falls in love with him and he seems to blind to notice?

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: 5718

warning(s): ends in smut

notes: I have not posted in quite some time, nor have I wrote anything in a long time. I tried to avoid the use of y/n. Fred calls her 'little red' or 'red' ocassionally, this is explained in the writing.

masterlist

Six years of friendship. Six years of falling for Fred Weasley, really. If she were to be honest with herself, she knew she loved him two years ago. It was just easier to ignore as a 15 year old girl. She initially tried to write it off as just feeling that way because they were so close already, but she knew that wasn’t true. She was just as close with his twin brother, George, and she wasn’t in love with him. Fred was different. They knew each other on a different level. They could be overly affectionate with each other. When she saw him at the platform this year, she ran to him and jumped into his arms and stayed there despite George whining that he hadn’t seen her in just as long. On the train ride, she fell asleep with her head in his lap whilst he and George started scheming their first prank of the school year. He would hush George any time she would start to stir, then gently play with her hair until she settled again. She had fallen asleep on George’s shoulder once, and swore to never do it again. Whilst he was also one of her best friends, he did not hold the same kind of soft spot for her as his twin did. He had used a spell to turn her hair bright green. She was livid when she realised. Poor George was afraid to turn his back to her for the next four months. She had waited six months for her revenge, perfecting the same colour changing spell, but turning all of his clothes pink. 

Now at 17, her feelings were harder to hide. The pangs of jealousy at every Gryffindor party after a quidditch match when girls would shamelessly flirt with him. And he seemed to love it. Tonight was another one of those nights. Gryffindor had destroyed Slytherin on the quidditch pitch and were, of course, throwing their usual celebration. She sat next to George and Angelina on the couch, her eyes following Fred. Her gaze only left him as Julie came up to him and was heavily laying on the charm. She felt the jealousy bubbling in her like a failed potion about to go horribly wrong. She felt George shift and wrap an arm around her shoulder, giving her a slight squeeze. “Love, why don’t you talk to him?” Angelina asked, reaching over George to squeeze her hand. Her gaze moved from her knees to her two friends, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “I couldn’t possibly talk to him about this, Ang. I’d tell him everything and feel like an absolute git after.” She admitted, letting out another huff. George shook his head, opening his mouth to speak but quickly closing it. Ever since the start of the year, she had grown closer to George and his girlfriend, Angelina. Unfortunately, closer than she was with Fred. They were definitely still close, but something was different between them this year. And it wasn’t that she was head over heels in love with him. It was him that was keeping a distance between the two of them. Every year, she sat with them at the Gryffindor table. Her Ravenclaw robes made her stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of red, but Fred and George were her best friends. In fact, she only ever sat at her own houses’ table a handful of times. The sorting ceremony, the last day, and that couple of months last year when Fred had a girlfriend who absolutely hated her. She had friends in Ravenclaw, but she wasn’t as close to anyone as she was with Fred. George was a close second, but her and Fred always just clicked. They clicked from the first train ride to Hogwarts they ever had. They were nearly inseparable. If Fred wasn’t with George, he was with her, or they were all together. She spent a few weeks with the Weasley’s every summer. Molly was like her second mother at this point. She loved spending time with all of them. She loved answering all of Arthur’s questions about the muggle world. She loved hanging out with Ginny, the only other girl around her age in the Weasley household. It was usually the highlight of her summer.

A loud cheering pulled her attention away from her two friends as they all turned to the source of the noise. It felt like her heart shattered into dust. Don’t cry. Do not cry. Not here. “I-, I have to go.” She quickly stammered, slipping away from her friends and blinking back tears. There he was. Fingers tangled in Julie’s hair, kissing her passionately. She tried to keep her head down as she pushed towards the door. She knew better, but she looked up anyway. Another stab to the heart. Her tear-filled gaze met the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley, best friend, heartbreaker. She tore her gaze from his and moved as quickly as she could without running. She pushed out of the door, finally letting a tear fall as the door shut behind her. She could’ve swore she heard George yelling at his twin as she stepped out, but she could be wrong. She stood in the hall for a moment, unsure of what to do. Her feet were moving before she registered that she was moving. She knew Fred, she knew he would try to come after her. He was her best friend, after all. Part of her wished he would push through the door, catch up to her and wrap her in his arms. The other part of her, the hurt, told her to stop hoping he would feel the same way. Though, he would ask George what happened first, which bought her some time, yet not enough to get to her common room before he caught up with her. Even if she ran, he could easily catch up to her. Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of the hall, watching the door to the room of requirements take shape. She heard him calling her name, and heard his footsteps. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not right now. Not when it was so fresh. She shouldn’t be crying. They were only friends, she was the one hopelessly in love with him. She reached for the doorknob, sliding into the room and quickly shutting the door behind her. Merlin, please let the door disappear before he gets down here. She slid down the wall next to the door. How absolutely foolish could she be? Her and Fred would never happen. It was clear at this point. She was terrified that if she told him how she felt, it would ruin their friendship. Not only would she be heartbroken, but she would lose her best friend too. 

She had no idea how long she sat there for. Maybe an hour? Maybe two? It took nearly another hour before she gathered the courage to leave. Even if he had seen her, she doubted he would’ve waited for her. Maybe two years ago, but not now. Not with this weird distance between them. Definitely not after close to three hours of her hiding. She could still confidently say that Fred was her best friend, but it was different. It wasn’t like before. They weren’t joined at the hip anymore. This summer made that clear. She spent most of her time with Ginny and Molly. The few times they had spent together went from comfortable and playful to awkward. There were moments when it felt like he may also feel the same way about her, but he always seemed to pull away a little more after. She could’ve sworn he was going to kiss her one night, her heart felt like it was beating in her throat. But he just cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he took a step back from her. Maybe she should’ve just kissed him then, and let whatever would happen just happen. At least she would’ve known how he felt. She might have lost her best friend, but she wouldn’t constantly feel this hurt and jealousy. 

 She pressed on the wall, waiting for the door to appear to make her exit. She slowly pushed the door open, only then realising she should have left from the other side of the room. There he was. That beautiful, heartbreaking idiot. His head leaned back against the wall, mouth slightly open as he slept. She realised she really had been in there for much longer than she thought and it was a miracle Fred hadn’t been found by Filch or Mrs. Norris. She kneeled in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. “Freddie.” She whispered lightly, pushing against his knees to hopefully wake him, but she knew he could sleep through the whole castle crumbling to the ground. “Freddie!” She whisper-yelled, shaking him harder, earning a groan from him. “Fred Gideon Weasley, get up before Filch comes and kills us both!” She whispered harshly, causing Fred to finally open his eyes. His sleepy gaze quickly turned to a soft look when he took her in. She knew her eyes had to be slightly puffy and her nose was red. It always turned red after she cried, and she hated it. She also hated that Fred always knew when she was upset or had been crying, and he always knew exactly how to make her feel better. Whether she needed a hug, or to be held, or if he needed to go to ridiculous measures just to make her laugh. Fred reached out and pulled her to him, stretching his legs out so she was in his lap. She fell forward against him as he hugged her. She let her head rest against his chest, feeling tears threaten to fill her eyes again. “C’mon little red.” He whispered, moving to get up. “I don’t have red hair.” She mumbled, she didn’t know where the nickname had come from. Fred had just started calling her it one day. The only answer for why she ever got was that she was now an honorary Weasley and she was tiny. It used to annoy her to no end, which is probably why it stuck. Fred loved getting reactions out of her, because even if something annoyed her when it came to him, she secretly loved it. It was like he knew it.

She walked next to him, keeping her head down. She watched her feet as she walked. She wasn’t paying attention, she just let him lead the way. She figured they would go to his dorm. It was the closest and safest bet. The chances of not getting caught on the way to her common room were slim to none. It was way too late to even consider being out of the common room, everyone was most likely asleep by now. She knew they were entering the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady had long ago stopped putting up a fight about her being snuck into the common room after hours. It happened so often that it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t bother to look up, just followed Fred to the stairs. The floor was a mess and she was afraid to look up. She didn’t want to relive her most recent memory in this room. She followed Fred into his dorm, noting that it was empty. He shared a room with George and Oliver Wood. Neither of the other two boys were here. She stood there silently as Fred moved around. He pulled out a jumper and handed it to her, turning around for her to change. The normalcy of this pained her. She knew Fred had seen her almost completely naked. He had stayed with her when she was sick last year. She had a fever that wouldn’t break and she had stripped out of her shirt and pyjama shorts in her sleep- with Fred sharing the same bed. She pulled the jumper over her head before pulling her jeans off. The jumper hung down to her knees, Fred was nearly a foot taller than her, if not more. She didn’t say anything as she climbed into his bed, only huffing as she rolled over to face away from him. 

She felt his weight as he slid into his bed, turning to face her back. “George told me what happened. She kissed me, and I didn’t…” He whispered so quietly she could barely hear him. Her whole body seemed to tense as she registered what he said. Of course George told him. Bloody hell. She felt Fred’s hand brush over her arm. He grabbed her shoulder, gently trying to turn her to him. She fought him on it, but it was no use. He was stronger than she was, no matter how determined she was to keep her back to him. “You know you can tell me anything. Hell, you’re my best friend.” Fred whispered, his eyes on her face. She stared at the ceiling, feeling tears well in her eyes again. “That’s the problem, Freddie. I’m your best friend.” Her whisper was soft, not trusting herself to speak without starting to cry again. “And I hate it.” She finished, closing her eyes tightly to press the tears back. She could still feel his eyes on her, but she knew she couldn’t look at him. She knew she would break. She knew he would hold her until she either calmed down or fell asleep. Merlin’s beard, they were more than just friends. Friends don’t do this. Friends don’t share a bed. Friends don’t sleep in nothing but the others jumper and their underwear and cuddle. Friends don’t wake up wrapped in each other's arms. Friends don’t cling to each other the way they usually do. She loved George like a brother, he was one of her closest friends. Her and George are not friends like she and Fred are. She felt a tear squeeze its way from her eye. She let out a shaky sigh as she felt Fred brush it away with his thumb. He pulled her into him and she hated him for it. She hated him at that moment. She hated that he made her hurt, but he was the only one that could make her feel better. A sob escaped her lips as the tears began to fall. “I hate you. I hate that you’re so damn oblivious to me. All I am is your best friend and I’ve been in love with you for two years, you idiot.” She cried into his chest. He cradled her head with one arm and pulled her closer with the other, holding her there as she cried. “I’m sorry, Red, I-i didn’t know.” He held her tighter, placing a kiss on the top of her head. His fingers drew circles on her back as her cries slowly stopped. He hadn’t realised she had fallen asleep until her grip on his shirt slowly loosened.

She woke up pressed to Fred’s chest and her legs tangled in his. His fingers were drawing slow shapes on her side. God she was still so hurt. The image of him kissing Julie replaying in her head. She went to pull away from him, only to be pulled against him tighter. “Let me go.” She mumbled, pushing against him again. “No can do, doll.” He mumbled back. “I still hate you.” She bit back, trying her best to ignore the comfort she felt being pressed against. “You don’t mean that.” His voice was gentle. He was used to her little fits. She had told him multiple times over the years that she hated him. The first time when he accidentally broke her brand new quill that her father had sent her as a gift when she found a new hobby of writing. It was their second year. He had saved up anything he could get until Christmas that year to buy her the same one. She had cried then too, but those were happy tears. She had told him she hated him the day he told her that he couldn’t come see her that summer, that was year three. Then she wrote to his mother and asked if she could come there to see him and George. Of course, Molly said yes. She was so delighted to finally meet the twin’s best friend. She was glad they finally had someone to level out their antics, but that didn’t last long. They were always up to something. She had told him three times in year four that she hated him. Once was when he had her pinned down and was mercilessly tickling her. She gasped it out between laughs. She even used his full name. He couldn’t help but smile, only to stop tickling when she rushed out that she was going to pee her pants if he didn’t stop. But he kept jumping at her, pretending he was going to tickle her again. The second time was when he was dating Hannah. They had gotten into a fight, screaming at each other. She was sad because she felt like she was losing Fred as a friend because Hannah hated her. And he called her bitter and jealous that she had never had a boyfriend. It was then that she told him she hated him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. That was the first time it truly hurt when she said she hated him. It felt like she meant it that time. The third time was towards the end of the year. They had made up and were thicker than thieves once again. She had conned him into going to the library to study. He was messing around the whole time and trying to make her laugh. He took it a little too far, accidentally hitting her inkwell. It shot across the table, they both moved to catch it and they both missed. It had spilled all over her skirt. She said she hated him then and told him he was lucky he was her best friend, otherwise he’d have to buy her a new skirt. Last year, year five, there were odd bits of distance between them, but when he thought about it, they weren’t odd. They were distant every time he had a girlfriend or was chasing after some girl. He had been slightly jealous of George since last year. She seemed to latch on to him, but it all made sense. She was distancing herself to protect herself and George was there for her, probably to tell her that Fred was an idiot and he’d come around one day. 

“Look at me.” He said as he rolled on to his side, sliding her off his chest. She stared at his chest, not meeting his gaze. “I am.” She mumbled and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Her full name left his lips as he gently pushed her chin up to force her to look at him, but she kept her eyes trained on his chest. “I swear, you are so stubborn that I wonder how you weren't sorted into Gryffindor.” She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “What Fred? What do you want? I don’t care if she kissed you. You didn’t have to kiss her back.” She bit out. He had to hide his smirk. If she wasn’t so upset with him, he knew she would’ve rolled her eyes and made a ridiculous comment on how she was surprised he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. He suddenly missed her jests, wishing he could rewind to before the party. George had told him that someone they knew was pining after him. He just didn’t think it would be his best friend. But then again, how could it not be? They spent most of their time together, either alone or with George. If he wasn’t with George, he was with her. People often commented on them acting like a couple. Fred would walk her to class, arm slung around her shoulder. “I’m an idiot-” He started, only to be cut off by her. “I know you are. You’re the biggest idiot I know.” She tried to hold her glare, fighting a small smile. “C’mon, little red, let me finish.” He raised his brow as she opened her mouth to talk then closed it. She let out a sigh, waiting for him to continue. “You say I’m the biggest idiot you know, which may be true. But I’m the most handsome idiot you know.” He paused as a small smile tugged at her lips. “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry. You could’ve just told me. Could’ve said ‘hey, you big, handsome, idiot, I love you’.” He paused again, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I would’ve said, ‘hey, little red, I love you too’.”

“Stop calling me that.” she mumbled and Fred let out an exasperated noise. He noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “I still hate you, at least for the next five minutes.” Her voice was much softer this time. “You’re so stubborn.” he mumbled, smiling when he felt her fingers grasp his shirt. “And you’re an idiot for not kissing me.” She mumbled, her gaze still locked with his. He slowly leaned in, his nose brushing hers as her eyes fluttered shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” She whispered as he leaned in. Her lips just barely brushing his as she spoke. He paused for a moment. He knew she had never dated anyone, but he didn’t think she had never kissed anyone before. He closed the gap, gently kissing her. The kiss was slow and soft, until she took him by surprise when she nipped his bottom lip. He groaned, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. “Never kissed anyone before, unbelievable.” He mumbled against her lips. She pulled on his shirt in a futile attempt to get closer than they already were. It was when she slid her hand up her chest and around his shoulder up to his hair that the door to his dorm opened. He reluctantly broke the kiss, looking up to see George standing in the doorway. “Well, I was coming to tell you that no one has seen our little friend here since last night, but I see you’re snogging her.” George grins. You roll over at his comment, turning to look at him. George winks at you and then turns his attention back to Fred. “I am now obligated to help her hide your body, doesn’t matter that you’re my brother.” George states, causing her to laugh.

“George, leave. Please.” Fred groans. “I think he should stay. This is fun. Hey, Georgie, isn’t Fred the biggest idiot you know?” She asks, smiling sweetly at Fred. “That’s likely!”

After George had left, they spent the entire morning in bed. Fred stealing kisses from her when she wasn’t dozing back off. “Freddie?” She whispered, curled into his side, her head laying on his chest. He hummed an acknowledgement. “Did you mean it?” She asked, her fingers grasping his shirt again. A small chuckle came from him as he squeezed her to him. “I love you, I have for some time. You’re also my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you.” He said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, you big, handsome idiot.” She said as she lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t think I won’t ask George to help hide your body.” She grinned as he laughed. 

The rest of the year seemed to breeze by. Two months of Fred pulling her into random broom closets between classes and sneaking into the room of requirements before curfew. Countless nights spent in there, hidden away among the mess. Before she knew it, everyone was packing and getting ready to leave for the summer. 

“Fred, I’m too tired, carry me.” She whined as he gently woke her when the train finally stopped at the station. He let out a sigh as George laughed at him, shaking his head. She was going to the Weasley’s for the summer as her parents were away until November. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking up at Fred. “After we get off the train, then I’ll think about it.” He reached a hand out to her, helping her up. The journey to the Weasley’s was rather quick. They travelled through the floo system. She dramatically collapsed into Fred’s arms when they got back. “So tired.” she mumbled. “You’re going to kill me.” He laughed, picking her up. This wasn’t entirely unusual for the two of them. Everyone was used to Fred and her clinging to each other. Molly would often give Fred a knowing look when she would walk into the den, finding her sleeping with her head in his lap or curled up against him. Molly also knew that, most nights, if she were to peek into Fred’s room, she would find the two of them together. She often heard them talking in loud whispers and trying to hide their laughter in the middle of the night. It didn’t dawn on her that only a handful of them knew they were together, not until George opened his mouth. “Hey ma, did you know that Freddie has a girlfriend?” A groan left Fred as he stared his twin down. She buried her face in his chest, trying to ignore the slew of reactions from the older Weasleys. Molly was utterly delighted, commenting on how she was surprised that it took this long.

The days seemed to fly by spending them in the Weasley household. Lots of stolen kisses and sneaking around. It wasn't until mid-July that her and Fred were alone in the house together. Everyone had gone out for one reason or another and it was just the two of them. They spent the morning in Fred’s bed, tangled together. She was constantly falling back asleep and Fred was just content to hold her. It wasn’t until she was the one to lean up and kiss him that the day seemed to take a slight turn. They had shared a bed countless times, kissing had almost turned into more countless times as well. But this kiss was needy and built a fire in the both of them. She started the kiss. It was soft, loving at first. Then she nipped his bottom lip and a groan left his lips. His fingers dug into her hips, the feeling giving her the courage she needed in the moment. She moved to straddle him. His hand pushed up the jumper she stole from him, revealing her bare thighs. She really would be the death of him. She never seemed to wear pants. Just his shirt and a pair of panties, she was a constant tease seemingly unknowing to the fact. The kiss was still innocent enough, until she ground her hips down on his. The almost whiny moan that left her lips had him flipping them over. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, most likely leaving marks in his wake. The sounds that left her lips were driving him wild. “You’re killing me.” He mumbled against her neck. His hands slid around her body. He gripped her hips before sliding a hand up her shirt. His fingers pinched and rolled her nipple, a lewd moan leaving her lips. 

“Freddie, please.” She whined, pushing her hips up against his for any sort of friction. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it up until he reached up to pull it over his head. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his. She deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. He still found it hard to believe she had never kissed anyone before him. Not when she kissed him like this. She continued to grind her hips against his, moaning into the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest, her fingers hooking under the waistband of his pyjamas pants. She started to push them down when Fred broke this. “Baby-” He started only to be cut off by her leaning up and kissing him again. He knew she was virgin, while he may not be, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do this. He was content just being with her. “Freddie, please. I want you. I-,” She paused, looking up to meet his eyes. “I want you to be my first.” Her breathy proclamation almost made him groan, but it was her reaching down and palming him through his pants that made a groan fall from his lips. Fred reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. His eyes dragged over her body. She was perfect. “So pretty, baby.” He groaned, she would’ve thought he was talking to himself until his eyes met hers. His hands slid from her hips and over her stomach before he leaned down, kissing down her neck to her navel. It was then that her nerves started to build up. His lips pressed to her hip as he looked up at her. “If you want to stop, we will. At any point, baby.” He nipped at her hip as he pulled her panties down. She felt her cheeks flush, suddenly feeling exposed. Fred’s hands sliding up her legs seemed to calm her nerves. He pressed a kiss to her knee first, then trailed kisses down her inner thigh. It was the kiss that he placed closest to her sex that had the first moan falling from her lips. She gasped when she felt his tongue against her clit. He slowly added more pressure as he worked her clit. She didn't know how much more she could take, every pass of his tongue on her was overwhelming. Her hips bucked into his face. She was sure if she wasn’t so consumed by the building warmth in her abdomen that she would have been embarrassed. His name fell from her lips as he slowly worked a finger into her. His pace was painfully slow but every move made her feel like he already knew her body better than she ever could. It wasn’t until he worked a second finger into her and sucked her clit between his lips that she felt like she was falling apart. His name left her lips in succession until all she could do was moan. She moved her hips against his fingers, riding out her orgasm. 

“Please, Freddie, I need you inside of me.” She let out a breathy whine. This girl would really be the death of him. He turned his head, leaving a hickey on the inside of her thigh. His lips were on hers in an instant. When she reached to push his pants down, this time he let her. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her bottom lip. He slipped his tongue against hers, taking his time kissing her. He ground into her, sliding his dick through her folds. He teased her with his tip before gently pushing into her. She gasped into his mouth, her body tensing at the intrusion. “Relax, baby, okay?” He whispered, kissing her jaw. He didn’t move his hips, but his hand snaked between them. His thumb pressed against her clit, causing another gasp to leave her lips. He continued to toy with her clit as she looked up at him. The look in her eyes as a quiet moan fell from her lips had his resolve wavering. It was when the next breathy moan fell from her lips that she took him by surprise. She pushed her hips up, taking more of him in. His ministrations continued as he tried to ease any of her discomfort with pleasure. She rolled her hips into his, fucking herself like she had done on his fingers. Fred moved his other hand to her hip, holding her hips in place. It was then that he pushed into her until she took all of him in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, then her lips. The kiss was slow, gentle as he gave her time to adjust. She broke the kiss, brushing her nose against his. “Freddie.” His name left her lips in a breathy moan as she pushed against him. His thrusts were shallow at first, his forehead resting against hers. They moved slowly together, quiet moans falling from her lips. His name fell from her lips as he thrusted into her harder, faster. Her hands ran up his back, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his shoulders. “O-oh, Freddie.” She gasped, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. She could feel her orgasm building again when he slid a hand between them, pressing his thumb to her clit. Fred could feel himself getting close to the edge. 

“Fuck, baby, cum for me.” He groaned against her skin. His thumb pressed into her clit harder, circling until she threw her head back. His name fell from her lips, her nails digging into his back. The feeling of her walls clenching and spasming around him as she came sent him over the edge. Her name fell from his lips as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, Freddie.” Her voice was a whisper. She leaned up to steal a quick kiss from his lips before he could speak. “I love you.” He mumbled between kisses. 

They spent the next few hours tangled in each other, whispering sweet nothings, and her dozing off a few times. Fred woke her when he heard the first noises in the den below. Fred scrambled to find his clothes as she waltzed around his room to find hers. She pulled on a pair of leggings and his jumper. Her fingers slid across his sides as he pulled his shirt on. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him. His arms snaked around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

#harry potter #one shots #one shot #imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasely x y/n #iiwontgiveuponmilkk

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 1

part two / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut (part two), fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀 (part two). if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: just a bit over 6k.

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card.

fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think! 🥰

It’s another late Friday night as you and the team lounge around the common room, nearly empty takeout containers scattered around the table, glasses and bottles of your drinks much the same. There’s a movie no one is watching playing on the large screen as the current conversation around you continues.

You’re not sure how telling a story from your last mission with Bucky has turned into this once again, but here you are. Another cute remark from Sam about his expectancy to be in the wedding party earns him another glare from you.

“Hey, you side-eye now but in ten years you’ll look back and realize how right we all were,” he says, elbowing Bucky slightly. “Tinman by your side,” he adds with a grin - clearly amused with himself.

“That is not my future,” you say with a humorless chortle.

“I can show you your future,” Wanda speaks from her spot on the couch, everyone turning their heads at once to look at her. She’s been unusually quiet the past few minutes - not engaging much in the conversation as she observed it instead. She takes another sip of her wine as she meets your gaze, foot swinging lazily as she keeps one leg crossed over the other.

She tilts her head at you while you eye her with a raised brow, a look of incredulity on your face.

“What?” she questions, confused at not only yours, but everyone’s, lack of response.

“Come on,” you laugh lightly, brushing her off.

“I’m serious.”

“Wanda, I don’t need to see what my future looks like to know that Bucky will be playing no part in it.”

A round of scoffs, snickers and a groan erupt from around the living room as you roll your eyes. You catch Bucky, seated across from you, doing the same as you turn your face.

“You’re all very funny, and I’m glad you’re amused with yourselves, but I can’t sit here and listen to the same inane conversation over again, soooo,” you pause for a breath, “I’m going to bed,” you clap as you stand from your spot on the couch.

“Look, I don’t speak for everyone, but I am not joking in the slightest,” Kate laughs as she leans back into her seat. Aiming finger guns at you and Bucky, “You guys,” she says, “are endgame.”

“And you, my friend, are drunk.”

Another round of laughs before the previous chatter resumes among the group, a story of misadventure now being told from Parker’s perspective, and you can hear Stark’s interjections already.

You grab your empty glass and head to the kitchen, Wanda following shortly after you.

“You’re stubborn,” she says with no preamble.

You turn with a quirked brow, “Am I?”

“Very. So much so, I think I may need your permission.”

“Sorry...uhm, for?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I think you should see it.” Your face falls slack at her words as you turn back to finish washing out your glass.

“Wanda, -” you go to laugh again.

“No, actually,” she stops you, correcting herself, “you need to see it. You’re stunting yourself. You’re constantly getting in your own way. I think it’d be good for you, to see what you can have if you finally allow it to come to you.”

You're quieted by her sincerity for a moment, half because you weren’t taking any of the previous conversation seriously, and half because you didn’t think it was something she was actually capable of doing. In fact, you still didn’t. But if she wanted to try, who were you to argue.

“Uhhh,” you begin, shaking your head lightly, “I mean, if you really want to, then, go for it, I guess. You have my permission.”

“Good,” she smiles, turning to walk back out to the other’s.

“Wow, wait,” you stop her, “like, what exactly are you gonna do?”

“Just a swap,” she says simply. “A day in the life of your future self. You don’t have to do anything, just go to sleep tonight and you’ll see.”

Your eyes narrow in thought, “...This isn’t dangerous, right?”

“No, not at all. You guys will be fine. 24 hours and you’ll wake up in your own beds, safe and sound. I promise.”

She smiles and flits away quickly. You shake your head at yourself again, still unsure what exactly you’ve agreed to. And it isn’t until you’re walking down the hallway back to your room that what she said actually catches up to you.

You guys will be fine?

You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, glancing back to find Bucky coming down the hall. You swallow hard and turn back around, not far from your door.

“Stalker much?” you say without facing him, earning a scoff in return.

He’s barely a step behind you now, though his sudden proximity is not all that surprising. You’ve grown used to his stealth.

“In your dreams.”

“More like waking nightmares. Every time I turn around it’s like you’re always just right there.”

“Maybe if you didn’t put yourself into jeopardy every five minutes I wouldn’t have to shadow you so often.”

You’re walking side by side and you get to your door as he speaks. You turn on him, instantly irritated.

“Are you being serious?” you level at him. He doesn’t respond. “How are you still hung up on Belarus? It was one mission. That was not on me, I didn’t fuck up. No one else saw them coming, either,”

“I did.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as infallible as the one and only Bucky Barnes,” you speak exaggeratedly, annoyance clear in your tone. “You still act like I’m some kind of liability. I’ve been careful. I’m riding a lengthy no injury streak and we’ve still yet to fail a single mission. After how many assignments we’ve been on together, you think you’d start taking me more seriously.”

“I never said I didn’t take you seriously. Just think sometimes you’re still a little too cocky for your own good.”

“For the thousandth time, I’m not clueless, Barnes. I don’t need you monitoring my every move. Not during training, not on missions, and definitely not walking down a hallway at night. I think I can handle getting to my room alone. Or is assuming that too cocky of me?” you ask with a tilt of your head, sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

You don’t wait for a response before you turn to your door and let yourself in, snapping it shut behind you.

You flick on the light and are quickly greeted by a room that is… definitely not yours. You pause for a second, taking in your surroundings before you deflate with a sigh, following it up with a deep breath. You turn the light back off and then turn back around to the door. You wait for a second longer with your hand on the handle before you force yourself to exit the room.

Just like you knew he would be, Bucky is still standing right where you left him; a stupid smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Wrong room,” he says.

“Fuck off,” you grumble as you walk a little further down the hall, to your actual door.

“Goodnight to you, too,” Bucky says as he continues to his own room, not far from you. You send him a glare and a “hmph” before shutting your door and getting ready for bed.

You’re not helpless. You’re not clueless. You’re damn good at what you do. But fuck if Bucky doesn’t have a knack for knocking you off kilter with a single look.

—-

It’s a soft shaking that wakes you from your peaceful sleep. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move - you don’t even want to blink open your eyes. But the shaking comes again. Your brows furrow as your arms tighten around your pillow and you cuddle further into it.

Only it’s not your pillow.

It takes a second for you to process that instead, it’s a warm body you’re pressing yourself against before your eyes snap open.

You look up and find a confused Bucky staring down at you.

When your eyes meet, though, there’s a bit of softness there. And as you take in his face, you relax a bit again. His presence beside you is at once comforting as it is confounding.

“What are you doing?” you both ask at the same time - only furthering your confusion.

You suddenly realize you’re still wrapped around him and quickly sit up and give him space.

“Why are you in my bed?” you ask as you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says as he looks around, “but I don’t think we’re at the tower.”

You look up and blink away the fuzziness. Then it hits you.

“Oh shit,” you murmur.

“What? You know where we are?” he asks as he stands and starts looking around, inspecting the room. “Better yet, how the hell we got here?”

“Maybe…Would you believe me if I said we might possibly be in the future?”

Bucky turns and looks at you incredulously.

“Wanda,” you speak at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he runs a hand over his face.

“In my defense,” you begin, “when I agreed to this, I didn’t think she’d be able to do it. I also didn’t think it’d involve anyone else..”

“What do you mean you agreed to this? What is this?”

“She said I needed to see the future. It’d be good for me, or whatever, so I said okay. She said it was uh, a future swap? 24 hours. Day in the life and then I’d wake up back in my own bed the next day.”

“And you agreed to it?”

“Fuckin’, yeah, obviously,” you huff. “I didn’t think it’d be.. Real? I don’t know.”

“So, so what? We’re stuck in some unknown future for the next 24 hours?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?”

“Why would you agree to something like this without fully knowing what it is you’re agreeing to? This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say-”

“Spare me, Barnes. It’s Wanda, okay? We’re fine. It’s 24 hours, and I’m assuming that clock started when we fell asleep last night, so really it’s only…,” your voice dies down as you look to the clock on the bedside table. The time isn’t what catches your eye, though.

No.

It’s the framed photo behind it that derails your train of thought.

“No fucking way,” you breathe as you grab it in disbelief.

You stare at the photo of you and Bucky, a close up of you in a sweet embrace, adorning soft smiles as you share a chaste kiss, your left hand touching his cheek, and what you can only assume is a wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.

This has to be some kind of dream. That’s it. You’re dreaming. Duh. Your hand moves before your mind does and you slap yourself in your face as hard as you can manage, sure it’ll wake you up and you’ll be back in the tower, in your own bed, alone.

“What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaims in surprise as you wince slightly and hold your cheek as it stings. He walks over to you, becoming more tentative as you look up at him.

“‘M not dreaming. Are you?”

“No, I’m wide awake, believe me,” he says as he gets closer. “Don’t slap me, either.”

You eye him harshly before handing him the frame.

“Well, it.. Explains why you’re here, at least,” you say, voice quieter than you intended as your thoughts were still reeling. “We’re not just in my future, we’re in-”

“Our future,” he finishes as he stares at the photo himself.

“Yeah.”

“So, our room…” he says more to himself than to you. He makes his way around the room, pulling open drawers and looking in the closet as you stand and head for the bathroom.

You meet yourself in the mirror, sure enough, you still look the same. You’re you.

Walking back out into the room, you head for the window, pulling back the curtain. As you peer out, you’re expecting to see a skyline, or city street, but instead you’re met with the view of an open yard.

You pull away from the window in surprise, “Are we in a house?”

You turn to Bucky, who turns to face you. You both head to the bedroom door, you following behind him as he takes the lead.

It’s a house. Definitely a house.

The bedroom door leads to a long hallway, three doors along the right back wall, another door at the far end opposite your own, and to the left of that, on the left wall, is another room.

In the middle of the hallway is an opening, and you and Bucky turn there without inspecting any of the other rooms.

You find yourselves in a living room, before walking into the kitchen.

“We should look around,” you say in a whisper - why, you aren’t sure.

“What exactly are you planning on finding?” he questions as you pull open a drawer, sifting around.

“I don’t know? More information. Like what we’re doing here. What we do. What year it is. Maybe we learn something and it’ll send us home sooner? I don’t know, just, something,” you answer, on edge already by being surrounded by the unknown and only growing more agitated at his every word.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“I’m not getting-,” you stop yourself, taking a breath, “sorry. Okay? I thought you were trying to be a dick,”

“Why do you assume I’m being a dick?” he asks, annoyed himself now.

"Because you always act like a fucking dick!", you nearly yell as you slam the kitchen drawer shut.

"Fucking dick!"

You both freeze at the high, sweet-sounding voice that comes from behind you. Your brows furrow as you glance at Bucky, his reaction to the mirthful echo much the same as yours, before you both slowly turn around.

The sight you're met with has you both frozen in shock.

A set of twin toddlers clad in matching pajamas, both of whom bear a striking resemblance to you and Bucky, are staring at you both.

You can't explain why, but your heart is gripped by the mere sight of them. It's something more than just their cuteness, it's something instinctual. How it's possible, you're not sure, but you know, somehow, that they're really yours. Future or not, those are absolutely your kids.

It seems with each passing moment, you and Bucky are left more and more stunned by how your future is turning out, but as you notice the little boy's eyes watering and the pout on his little lips as he looks right at you, you can't seem to care about anything else.

“Hey, buddy,” you squat down and hold your arms open for him, and he waddles to you right away as his eyes well more and more. He hugs you, still pouting as he cuddles into your chest and you hold him tightly as you stand, exchanging another glance with Bucky who looks nearly stupefied until the soft voice of the girl rings out once again.

Your eyes shoot to her as she twirls around clumsily, a chant of "fucking dick" leaving her lips over and over before she starts to tilt, seemingly having made herself dizzy. You're about to gasp, moving forward instinctually as you watch her wobble a bit more, but she's in Bucky's arms in an instant as he grabs her before she falls.

"Woah, there, sweetheart," he says with a small laugh as she dramatically goes limp in his arms. An exhausted breath leaves her little lungs as she breathes out the repetition one final time. She then lifts her tiny hand up to Bucky’s cheek, effectively slapping him as she plants it, blinking up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him curiously as she smooshes his face, feeling his stubble.

“Uhh…It’s hair. I haven’t shaved - Ow,” he exaggerates when she interrupts him and pats his cheek again, a bit harder this time, though you know it didn’t hurt him in the slightest. It makes the girl laugh, though.

“You should shave, Daddy,” she advises, pulling a face.

Her words pull a breathless laugh from him as he gazes down at the small girl, a lump forming in his throat as he takes everything in. He feels crazy, but he can see you in her, and he can see himself, too. Her and her brother, they both look like the perfect little combinations of the two of you. And they’re both so comfortable with you guys. So at ease and uninhibited, just like children should be..

It’s a stark contrast to how he grew up and he can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride, knowing that he isn’t repeating the cycle he swore would die with him.

He’d stopped letting his mind wander to what if futures long ago, but when he did imagine what it’d be like to have a family of his own, this is the kind of peace he longed for. The happy, settled down future he was sure he’d never have.

And you.

Your hand has been mindlessly rubbing the boy's back in an effort to comfort him as he cuddles into you, that never faltering pout pulling every string your heart has as Bucky attends to the girl relaxing in his arms.

"Linc's sad, Mommy," the girl says, pointing at her brother. The title has you swallowing hard, your heart clenching at how sweetly she calls to you.

Linc?... Must've been Bucky, you think briefly before you gently pull him away from you slightly so you can see him better, his bleary blue eyes peering up at you.

"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" he pouts still. Your brows furrow and mouth parts on an inhale, as if you're going to answer him, but nothing comes out as you try and think of what you can say. His innocent question stumping you.

"It's alright, pal, we were just kiddin' around," Bucky offers as he gets closer to you both. You look at him, a bit guilty but thankful for the save.

"Can we have pancakes, Daddy?" the girl asks as she wriggles around like a worm in his hold.

"Pancakes! Please!" Linc smiles as he continues hanging onto you, seemingly happy with Bucky's defense of you - any qualms he had long forgotten as he’s now focused on the mention of pancakes for breakfast.

"Sure," you answer for him, acquiescing easily with a smile before looking to Bucky with wide eyes.

You’re not entirely sure how exactly this all happens, but somehow you end up married with two kids. As shocking as it is, and as confused as you are about how, a part of you is grateful - maybe even happy - that Bucky is here. He may be an ass a lot of the time, overbearing and micromanaging your every move, but you guys have been through hell and back together. Partners from the very start of your time as an Avenger. If you’re being honest, this future makes more sense than you previously wanted to admit.

In an attempt to not freak out the twins, you know you have to play the part. Act like nothing is out of the ordinary and that you are indeed their mom. You are, technically, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re doing or what’s wholly needed of you. You’ve nannyed before, though. You know the basics..

"Have we brushed our teeth yet?" you ask the twins, sure the answer is a "no". Your and Bucky's arguing clearly is what woke them up, the yelling must have led them out here from their room.. Rooms?

"Mhm," the girl hums, though just from looking at her, the lie is evident as she avoids looking directly at you.

"Don't lie, Ellie," her brother chastises.

Ellie.. That must've been me, you think with a twitch of a smile before you set Linc down.

"Alright, go with Buc- your dad, and I'll start on the pancakes," you instruct before the twins burst out in giggles. You frown, brows furrowing as you watch them, hoping they'll let you know what exactly is so funny.

"No, we want daddy's pancakes, Mommy!"

"With chocolate chips and syrup!"

"Yeah, they want Daddy's pancakes, Mommy," Bucky taunts with a smirk as you shoot him an annoyed look. He seems a lot more comfortable now than he was a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but notice how easily he seems to be taking this; easing into his role in this place and time. He’s good.

"What's wrong with my pancakes?" you press the toddlers.

"Daddy's are better, but it's okay, your grilled cheese is the best,"

"Yeah! Oh, can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy? Please, please, pleeease," Ellie begs cutely, leaning to you while still in Bucky's hold.

You huff a laugh, agreeing as Bucky sets Ellie down to follow you.

"See if you can find anything," you tell him as you meet his eye before following after the tikes pulling on your hands.

"Don't forget the chocolate, Daddy!"

Bucky watches as you're led to the bathroom before he starts moving around the kitchen. He's about to start looking around for more information on when exactly you are, and the kind of life you’re living, but thinks better of it for now. He'd rather not have two toddlers throw a fit over unfinished pancakes on top of everything else he's trying to wrap his head around at the moment.

He finds the pantry and grabs all the ingredients he needs for his mom's pancake recipe - the one he knows by heart- and gets to work on the batter. The chatter from the kids and you in the bathroom floats into the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice as you talk to them.

He soon loses himself in the simplicity of the task at hand, and how nice it is to be here like this. He's in pajamas on a Saturday morning, making breakfast for his family as they start their day..

Seems entirely unreal, but a dream nonetheless. And as if that wasn’t enough to have his thoughts in a flurry, he still can't shake the feeling of how nice it was waking up with your soft body pressed against his. Opening his eyes to discover the warmth beside him was you. He was confused at first, wondering when and how you’d gotten into his room, but more so concerned about the why. He watched you for a minute before he noticed the bedding draped over the both of you. It wasn’t his and when he looked around the room, he realized he had no idea where you guys were. You were wrapped around him as you laid together in the comfy king bed, and it took him a second to try to wake you up. He knew he had to, of course, but if he was honest, he didn’t want the feeling to end. Your hold on him was comforting and he was completely at ease in your embrace, circumstances be damned. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.

Though, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembers the last time he felt that way, and of course it was with you. You were stuck in a shoddy motel off the highway during a storm, the crappy jeep you’d been traveling in finally gave out half way through your drive back to the compound and you guys had no choice but to crash for the night. Of course the motel only had one singular room available with one singular bed. After some back and forth, you both decided you’d just share. It was big enough for the two of you, with space in between. When Bucky woke up that next morning, though, he found himself holding you tightly from behind, your arms wrapped over his as you slept peacefully in his embrace. He remembers the heat that crept up his neck and the flurry in his stomach that he still refuses to acknowledge as butterflies. He quickly loosened his hold and slipped away from you before you could even bat an eye. You were still none the wiser. He thought about that morning a lot after it happened.

He wondered what would’ve happened if you had woken up, too. What you would’ve said, what he could’ve said to you if he’d finally gotten out of his own way..

He can’t dwell on it anymore, though. He hasn’t. He won’t.

Except maybe he does.

And seeing as this is your future together, he thinks maybe that’s not as hopelessly embarrassing as he’s made himself believe it is.

And god, the sight of those kids. The warmth that bloomed in his chest as he took in their faces, he honestly was worried he would start crying if he stared too long. He had long given up on the idea of starting a family, he didn't think this life would ever be in the cards for him, and especially not with you.

But as he stood pouring chocolate chip pancake batter into a sizzling pan, he was struck by how right it felt.

Obviously, it wasn't right, neither of you should be here right now, and it made him wonder where exactly the future you and him were.

As soon as the thought went through his head, a tablet he hadn’t taken notice of on the back counter dinged.

He flipped the pancakes before he went to get the pad, taking the tablet in his hands. His face unlocked the device easily and opened up to his email account.

He clicked on the new, unread message from.. you?

—-

Hey Bucky.

Wanda says this is unnecessary but if I know me, I’m still probably freaking out internally. So, just letting you know that everything's fine. Or so she says.

We're gonna be back to our respective places in time come tomorrow.

I know waking up in the future - especially our future - may be hard to wrap your heads around, but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up alone to a preening Wanda staring at you, trust me.

And you guys aren’t as oblivious as you try to be. You know, deep down, exactly why you’re there. Together. - and why it isn’t all that crazy.

And this goes without saying, but obviously, take care of the kids. Eleanor and Lincoln. If you haven’t found them yet, they’ll find you, I’m sure.

Today at 2pm, you need to drop them off at 7314 Wisteria Drive. That's Steve and Nat's house - so don't make it weird. They're keeping the kids so we can celebrate our anniversary.

Funny how that lines up..

So, anyway, apparently all we need to do on both ends is enjoy the 24 hour downtime. We’ll be waking up in our own beds before we know it.

Okay.

Bye.

(I’d say I love you but I don’t wanna freak you out. x)

—

Bucky just stares down at the email blankly while his brain tries to catch up. He's gonna have to have you read it yourself. Before he can fixate on that last line in particular, he can smell the browning of the pancakes.

His attention quickly returns to the food as he starts to plate it, shutting off the burner. The kiddie plates he finds in a cabinet earn a half smile from him as he cuts up the pancakes for the kids and spots their booster seats, placing the plates before them.

He hears them before he sees them as they come down the hallway, all laughs.

You appear just after they do, a look on your face he can't turn away from. Your soft smile and the adoration swimming in your eyes as you watch your kids, both of them waiting to be lifted up to sit down, is.. beautiful.

He catches himself staring before he turns his focus back to the table, lifting Eleanor into her seat before lifting Lincoln in his, earning a "thank you, daddy," from each of them in return, a wave of astonishment and pride coming over him yet again. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that.

You listen as they talk back and forth about their pancakes and their laughter when they start playing with one another as they eat their lightly syruped bites.

You stand by Bucky, absentmindedly grabbing a pancake and biting into it, stopping almost immediately as the fluffiness catches you off guard. God, they were so right. These are amazing.

"Good, right?" Bucky's voice pulls you back as you swallow your bite.

You lick your lip before looking over at him. "Did you find anything?"

He hands you the tablet and watches as you read the email.

You click your tongue, and then stay silent for a minute.

He almost can’t believe it when you do it, looking at you incredulously once again after you suddenly slap yourself in the face once more.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he bites quietly, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of the kids momentarily.

"Just had to make sure," you reply, again cringing at the stinging of your cheek. You eye him before making a move to slap him, too, but he grabs your hand before you can make contact. He looks at you like you're insane as you huff again. "So this is..."

"This is real," he finishes for you. "That hard to believe, huh?"

"That's an understatement. So, I’m not dreaming. But are you sure you’re not dreaming?"

“You think my dreams involve waking up in the future with no memory of what’s gone on between me going to sleep to waking up? That’s a literal nightmare for me. Plus, I learned a while ago how to differentiate between my dreams and reality. Trust me, we’re not dreaming.”

You swallow thickly, an apology on the tip of your tongue. You hadn’t considered that before. Before you can voice your thoughts, though, you're distracted by the interaction between the kids at the table.

"Linc, I'll give you a piece and then you give me one of your piece, okay?"

"You take this one," Linc says as he gives his sister a piece off of his plate and she gives him a piece off of her's.

You can't help but chuckle at the exchange.

"We make cute kids, though," Bucky says, almost under his breath. But you still hear him, and you respond before your brain catches your tongue.

"Yeah, we do."

You push off the counter as Bucky watches you, surprised that you heard him and even more so by your agreement, though it'd be impossible for anyone to argue that your kids aren’t, in fact, ridiculously adorable.

"Do you guys want -"

"Orange juice, please!" Ellie answers before you even finish asking.

"And water, please," Linc follows.

"OJ and water, you got it."

----

You and Bucky get the kids ready to go to Steve and Nat's with minimal arguing... until you had to pack their bags.

What they should or shouldn't take with them was a point of contention as you ridiculed each other's choices. After your bickering and some input from Ellie and Linc, you guys just hoped they had everything they needed. You'd unnecessarily packed them three outfits each just in case of spills or messes and their diaper bag was loaded full, too. Maybe too much for one day, but better safe than sorry, right?

After loading the twins in the car, Bucky followed the GPS to the address you'd left in the email.

When you guys pulled up to the house, you were greeted by Natasha who was unloading groceries from her car. The domestic scene warmed your heart. She deserved the simplicity, the normalcy, and you were happy to know that one day, she’d have it.

She lit up as she saw you guys approaching and came right over, going straight for the back door.

Linc and Ellie were all smiles and giggles as they tried fruitlessly to escape their car seats in favor of being in Nat's arms.

"Bugs!!" Nat greeted them with an enthusiastic smile as she started working on their belts. "I've missed you guys so much! How long has it been? Ten years?"

They laughed in unison at her before Ellie corrected her. "Yesterday, Aunt Nattie!"

"Yesterday?" she questioned in faux disbelief.

She wasn't able to keep up the play, though as the second they were out of their seats, they nearly tackled her.

You watched Steve come outside, coming up to the car with a grin, a girl no more than ten and another toddler, maybe a little older than the twins, in tow.

"Get them inside for me, honey," Nat said to the oldest one. She looked nothing like either of them, dark hair and dark eyes, but still it was clear she was their daughter. The younger one looked like Steve, though, and you wonder briefly if that was just by chance or if they’d had a surrogate. Natasha had talked about the possibility before, and of adopting, but starting a family wasn’t something any of you were actually considering at the time, settling down and having kids wasn't really your focus when you were all trying to make sure the world wouldn’t be ending tomorrow. "We'll be right in. And pick a movie for the sleepover before your Dad does," she pretended to whisper, earning a laugh from the girl as she corralled the kids up the porch.

Nat turned her gaze back on you and Bucky, her stare nothing less than scrutinizing.

"Are you guys in pajamas?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Mh, uh, yeah," you laughed a little breathlessly before looking back at the house, distracted. "They didn't even say bye," you said in your disappointment. You'd only just met the kids, but you felt so instantly connected to them.

"Don't worry about them, they're gonna have fun tonight. And so are you two," she says pointedly, if not a bit suggestively, pulling you from your thoughts. You feel the heat that creeps up your skin and refuse to look at Bucky.

"What are you guys doin' tonight, did you decide?" Steve asks.

"Staying in," Bucky blurts out as you blink and smile. But their faces at that, their smirks of acknowledgement make you grow hotter as you try to not let your embarrassment show.

"Mhm," you hum tight lipped.

It's quiet for a moment as you all watch one another before Steve breaks the silence.

"You guys are acting weird."

"Are we?" you question back too quickly.

"Yeah. You are," Nat says.

"Sugar," Bucky blurts out again. "They're loaded up on sugar. Sorry, they really wanted pancakes this morning. But uh, look, thanks for watching them. We should uh, get going, so.."

"Yeah, we should go," you agree. "What time do you want us to pick them up?"

"We're dropping them off tomorrow afternoon, right?" Steve questioned. "Or did you not want them to go with us?"

"No, oh, right. Duh! I just forgot - that's what we talked about. Because you're taking them to.." you trail off, prompting them.

"The gardens?" Nat finishes.

"Right, yes, the gardens. Which is great. And we appreciate it so much. And if you need anything or anything happens, ya know just call us," you continue on as Bucky starts to pull away. You fight the urge you have to glare at him until you finish your awkward goodbye and Steve and Nat watch you both drive off, clearly confused about the weird interaction.

"Did you miss the part of the email where it explicitly said: don't make it weird?" Bucky asks.

"Fuck off, you were no better," you scowl as you slump in the seat. "What now?"

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #the slumberparty

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ Retirement ready ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

Alexia is more than ready to spend all her time with her girls

You were incredibly surprised at how well Alexia had been taking her retirement. Of all the ways you imagined this moment it was always more dramatic, but your wife seemed to be at peace as she walked out of the tunnel for the last time. 

The crowd absolutely erupted as she lined up as Captain for the last time. Isabella was standing on her chair with her Putellas jersey proudly displayed on her back. Emilia watched with wide eyes as the place chanted her Mami’s name. “Mami sad?” Emilia asked with tears in her eyes, “No sweetheart, mamí is happy.” The younger blonde doesn’t seem so sure, “You know what this means? Mami is going to have so much more time to play with you and bring you to school.” Emilia lit up at the thought of more mamí time. 

Alba was sitting next to you, not having too much care for football but she loved her sister dearly, so she put up with it. “You think she’s sad Alb’s? Do you think this is right thing for her to do? I don’t want her to resent anything.” Alba scoffed amusedly as she gently patted you swollen stomach, “Have you seen the way she acts when she’s with her daughters? I mean there could be a Champions league final that she’s supposed to play but if one of those little girls asked her to stay at home, she wouldn’t be able to even spell football.” 

You looked back at the pitch as Alexia’s eyes roamed the stadium in search of something. You smiled curiously until you saw her eyes absolutely light up when she catches sight of her family. Isabella nearly falls of her chair as she blows Alexia a kiss for it to be reciprocated immediately. Emilia reached out her arms for her and you see the longing in your wife’s eyes as she subtly reached out too. 

Then her eyes fell onto you as she stared up at you with so much adoration. With a soft ‘Te amo’ and a kiss to her ring she disappeared down the tunnel for halftime. Alba stared at you with a cocky smile as you gently shouldered with a giggle. 

“Abuela! Look at my jersey!” Emilia shouted over the noise as she showed Eli her brand-new custom-made jersey that she had showed just about everyone with eyes. Eli cooed as she kissed both of her cheeks and offered to take both girls to get ice cream. 

Alexia was on cloud nine as she entered the dressing room. She was beyond excited to hang up her boots and throw herself into her family. “Ay amiga, No parezcas muy feliz.” Mapí threw her arm around her shoulder with a giggle as she pressed a kiss to her best friend’s cheek. Ingrid had retired a few weeks ago as they too had a little boy and girl. Mapí was going to stay for another month before she joins them. Irene had retired the season before and was sitting by her family. 

“No puedo evitarlo. Mi Familia…” Mapí just hugged her tighter as she nodded softly. “No puedo creer que nos abandones.” A voice from behind the two friends had Alexia grinning as she slightly shoved her ‘adopted’ daughters, “Como si vosotros dos no vinierais al menos tres veces a la semana.” Pina giggled while agreeing while Jana hugged her Captain. 

“Vamos a ganar este partido para la reina!” A victorious chant was let out as the girls made their way down the tunnel. “Vamos amiga!” Mapí grinned as she took her hand and led her down to the field. The second half flashed by with Alexia scoring her last ever goal and immediately dedicating it to her daughters and her wife. 

“Mama! We met Auntie Leah and Less. They came to see Mami’s game!” Emilia squealed as she waved at her English ‘aunts’. Emilia had gotten lost when she was just two years old when Alexia had turned her back for two seconds. It was at the Emirates, and it just so happened that Alexia wanted to bring her family on a holiday straight after. Luckily Leah had been roaming around to check the field one more time before tomorrow when she spotted the little girl. 

She recognised her straight away from Kiera and Lucy’s constant rambling at how cute their Captains’ daughters were. Leah told the two-year-old that she knew her mamí and could bring her to her which Emilia immediately agreed too. Alexia was losing her absolute mind as she had the whole team frantically searching for Emilia. Leah had finally found the Spanish Captain and they were fast friends after that. 

Alexia and Leah’s friendship was teasingly competitive yet very entertaining to everybody, but Alexia was eternally grateful to Leah for that day and Emilia had imprinted on her. You gave Leah a wave and she sent you a playful wink before focusing on the game at hand. 

The final whistle blew, and you were waiting for your wife to break down but the smile that nearly split her face was extremely welcome too. Alexia immediately ran to the barriers as you slowly made your way down, Alba had taken Emilia and Isabella ahead of you, so you didn’t trip and fall with their excitement. “Mi bébé’s!” Emilia reached her arm down but pouted and whines as she couldn’t reach her mamí. 

Alexia and Alba shared amused looks as the girl tried to reach again. Alba with the help of Irene had lifted Isabella over the barrier and into Alexia’s awaiting arms. “Hola Is! Did you enjoy the game!” Isabella hugged her tightly, “Sí, Mami your goal was incredible.” Alexia kissed her cheek before setting her down to catch her other daughter. Jana and Pina had already kidnapped Isabella as they chased her around. 

After Emilia was safely in Alexia’s arms did, she smile again. She gave her mamí a kiss as she snuggled into her neck, “Mama said you will have mucho time to play now!” Alexia giggled as she threw the blonde into the air, “You will be sick of me mi princesa!” Emilia looked horrified at the thought of being sick of her Mami and just decided to give her another kiss too. 

“Mateo?” Emilia asked with wide eyes as she stared up at Irene wanting to know where her best friend had gone. Alexia reassured Irene that it was fine as she reached up to bring the little boy down with a kiss to the cheek. Emilia squealed as they were reunited, and Alexia threw Irene a knowing glance as they watched them gallivant around with their hands joined. 

“Right, who’s lifting me down?” You joked as you made your appearance. The girls’ eyes widened as you shouldered Irene teasingly, “Hola amor.” Alexia stared up at you, hoping to convey how much she loved you with her eyes. “How do I get down again?” Alexia smiled at your urgency to see her as she nodded at Alba who helped you down to the tunnel.

Irene had managed to climb down as she wanted to keep an eye on the partners in crime. She hugged Alexia tightly as they shared a moment while watching their kids. “¿No te recuerdan a otras dos personas?” Irene smiled slightly bumping her hip into her Captains. Alexia chuckled as the inside joke that was circling ever since Mateo confessed his love for his best friend and Emilia had immeditaley accepted. Alexia smiled as she thought of you, and she swivelled her head keeping her eye on Isabella and Emilia. 

Alexia ran when she saw you, wanting nothing more than to finish her final lap with you by her side. The final piece of the puzzle as you had watched her very first match and had barely missed one since. She pulled you into her tightly as you kissed her neck softly, “I’m so proud of you.” Alexia teared up slightly as she kissed you lovingly wanting to sear this moment into her brain forever. 

Her hands were pressed to your stomach as she kissed you once again. “How’s my other princesa huh?” Alexia asked as she bowed her head to press a kiss to your stomach. “Still convinced it’s a girl?” Alexia and Alba, both threw you a knowing look, “Putellas’s only know how to make girls cariño.” The proof was in the pudding as both of your daughters came rushing over to get a family picture. Mateo took Emilia’s coat as she kissed his cheek in thanks before joining the pictures. Irene had to hold her son up as she nearly collapses at the sign of affection. 

Alexia picks her four-year-old up when she makes grabby hands and Isabella stands proudly in front of the three of you as you pose for a picture. Alexia’s arm is around your waist as her eyes stray to you not noticing the picture being taken as she takes in her little family. You get a few more with Alba and Eli and even one with Mateo at the insistence of the blonde. 

Alexia does get emotional as she does her lap of the field but because of how happy and content she is with her little family. “Are you sure you are okay with this?” You ask when you see her get teary eyed, but she just kisses you soundly, “Amor, I want to spend every second with my girls. I want to do this, I wished I had sooner.” She pressed her lips to your temple, “I don’t want to miss any more moments, I want it all, vale.” You wipe away a tear as she chuckled softly, holding you tightly as she pulled you closer again. 

You watch as her eyes light up as you follow her line of sight, Isabella is sending rockets at Cata while she out skills Mapí, even though they are going a bit easy on her. The smile on her freckled face is nearly a mirror image of her mother’s when she was her age and now it all made sense to why Alexia was so calm. You kiss her cheek affectionately as she places her large hand on your belly.

“Besides, my legacy will live on.”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #woso #Alexia's favourite girls

[inherdaze]

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

9k

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over. 

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat. 

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

 You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

 “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.” 

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely. 

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.” 

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death. 

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed. 

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?” 

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs. 

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky. 

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market. 

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.” 

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.” 

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around. 

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times. 

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor? 

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent. 

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back. 

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you. 

He doesn't. 

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there. 

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind. 

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived. 

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived. 

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you. 

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens. 

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think. 

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions. 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides. 

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup. 

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter. 

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well. 

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already. 

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things. 

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.” 

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second. 

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder. 

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you. 

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward. 

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven). 

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.” 

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.” 

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home. 

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass. 

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold! 

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you. 

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants. 

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.” 

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.” 

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him. 

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too. 

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine. 

“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves. 

“I’ve already forgiven you.” 

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated. 

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.” 

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that). 

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning. 

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless. 

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has. 

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do). 

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead. 

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away. 

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage. 

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.” 

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.” 

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help. 

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.” 

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.” 

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside. 

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you. 

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.” 

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively. 

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi. 

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.” 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.” 

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response. 

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean. 

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright. 

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion. 

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.” 

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.” 

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue. 

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.” 

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter. 

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.” 

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts. 

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.” 

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay. 

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.” 

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out. 

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.” 

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed. 

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way. 

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on. 

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love. 

You peer down into the pot. 

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.” 

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way. 

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.” 

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again. 

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste. 

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own. 

Your fingers twitch. 

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.” 

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes. 

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut. 

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor. 

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen. 

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.” 

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face. 

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love. 

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share. 

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable. 

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you. 

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn. 

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?” 

It’s a little loose. 

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching. 

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure. 

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you). 

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one. 

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space. 

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand. 

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door. 

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him. 

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs. 

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers. 

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.” 

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you. 

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay). 

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.” 

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush. 

Finally, he fesses up. 

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.” 

You see Kiyoomi make a face. 

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.” 

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens. 

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?” 

The both of you choke. 

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening. 

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated. 

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.” 

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes. 

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way. 

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response. 

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around. 

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe. 

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around. 

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward. 

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole. 

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi. 

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—” 

“Miya.” 

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.” 

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush. 

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you. 

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side. 

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.” 

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly. 

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left. 

“Miya told me to confess to you.” 

Your blood runs cold. Confess…? 

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it. 

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room. 

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day. 

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously. 

“I wish you could come with me.” 

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile. 

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say. 

“Goodnight, angel.” 

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does). 

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done. 

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it. 

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy. 

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door. 

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige. 

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely. 

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.” 

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you. 

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day. 

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in. 

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.” 

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.” 

Your mouth drops open. 

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.” 

You stay rooted still. 

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.  

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.” 

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together. 

(He wants to). 

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt. 

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth. 

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him. 

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please. 

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear. 

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name. 

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in. 

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!” 

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” 

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll. 

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you. 

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you. 

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!” 

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.” 

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes. 

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?” 

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again. 

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.” 

He gives an approving cluck. 

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand. 

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around. 

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock. 

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.” 

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately. 

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips. 

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?” 

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.” 

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.” 

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love. 

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you. 

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.” 

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip. 

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!” 

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!” 

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—” 

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own. 

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa fluff

[abbyromanoff]

SPIDER-WOMAN!WANDA HEAD CANNONS:

PAIRINGS: Spider-Woman!Wanda x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,752 (22 dashes)

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, small pervy!Wanda, mentions of public sex, virgin!Wanda, kinda innocence kink, switch!Wanda, breeding, children, mentions of cheating (no one actually cheated), small angst, somnophillia, masturbation, toys, pegging, anal, blowjobs, handjobs, tying down with webs, cunnilingus, sex in a suit, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!!

• She doesn’t trust many people, so when you two first met she wasn’t planning on telling you her hidden identity, but once the two of you got closer you accidentally found out when you heard a large bang in your room and found Wanda coming through the window after finally taking her mask off.

• At first, you were shocked, but then it sort of became something you were used to. You were honestly surprised how you didn’t find out sooner seeing as her identity was uncovered nearly five months after you two had started dating.

• I feel like you two met in a bar one night. Wanda isn’t a huge drinker but her friends invited her out, and she went even though she was dreading it. You were bartending there and happened to stumble over to the girl playing with the small straw in her martini and struck up a conversation, getting ready to hear another break-up or cheating story like usual. But she was different, her laugh was so contagious and her smile was glowing.

• That night her friends dragged her away before she could ask for your number so one night after patrol she stopped by, after changing into something more casual of course, and nervously asked for what she came for, and she got it. That night she happily texted you until you both said your goodnights and fell asleep, unaware of the smiles on each other’s faces.

• Wanda wasn’t your first partner, not even your first girlfriend, but you still got butterflies every time she’d stop by your work with flowers during your lunch break or interlace her hand with yours shyly.

• She’s very shy. Some would think she’s innocent, but her thoughts proved that different. Every time she’d see you it would instantly bring a shade of red to her cheeks along with a toothy grin that you adored, even taking to keeping multiple photos of her exactly like this. She saw your lock screen one day and when noticing the embarrassing photo of her smiling larger than ever before, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. But you loved it, it was the first thing you saw when you woke up and the last thing you’d see before bed.

• After four months together Wanda asked you to move in with her. She did so by innocently asking you to go apartment shopping with her, insisting that she was looking for a new place, leaving out the part where she hoped it would be with you. She had you pick out your favorite one and after a few weeks, she was able to officially ask you while you two were cuddled up watching your show before bed.

• Whenever she was gone for too long or you’d find yourself missing her she’d feel a tremendous guilt at hurting you. She’d come home to see you with dried tears on your face as you finally fell asleep, instantly cuddling you close and reassuring you that she wouldn’t leave you, not in a million years. Before you knew about her secret, your friends insisted that she must be cheating if she was out so late, but you didn’t want to believe it. The night you did find out, however, it all seemed to make sense in your mind, especially as she went on ranting about how she never wanted to leave but she had to keep the city safe.

• Wanda has always wanted kids in the future, it’s always been a dream of hers. And she hoped you’d want the same, and to her luck, you did. The two of you were never allowed in baby stores because you’d truly never leave, having to be forced out once it became too late and the shop was closing.

• If you ever did get pregnant she’d be over the moon but also nervous. She’d cry even more than you when seeing the pregnancy test and would instantly be too scared to go near you in fear of somehow hurting her child, even if there weren’t any signs of your belly growing. And when she found out you were having twin boys? The amount of tears she shed was incredible.

• She’d be the best mom out there, she’d love her children to death. Everything she did was for her family, and often times while she was out on patrol she’d stop to get you three something or take a picture of the sunset from the side of a building, even when you begged her not to bring her phone in fear it would break.

• One year, the boys surprised her by dressing up as Spider-Man for Halloween while their moms were Spider-Woman, she ended up crying once more when seeing them. She then stole a few pieces of their candy once they fell asleep, but they would never need to know that.

• It would take Wanda a while before she’d sleep with you seeing as you were her first. She feared no one would want her or appreciate her body but you proved that worry wrong, spending the entire night worshipping her entirely. After that, she was hooked. She always wanted to be inside you in any way possible, your mouth, your cunt, or even your ass.

• Her hips often tend to have a mind of their own as she thrusts into you, immediately apologizing after she does. She instantly panics when hearing you gag, but you let her wrap her fingertips in your hair to bring you up and down. Her head thrown back, hair sprawled on the pillowcase, mouth wide open with whimpers leaving her and her flexed muscles was a sight to see, you wanted to capture it in your mind forever.

• Is a huge switch. She mostly lets you take control earlier on but once she starts getting the hang of it she loves to make you feel good. You caught her once or twice watching porn, not to masturbate to but instead with a pencil and notebook in hand as she wrote down notes, you created a hobby of knocking before you entered a room after that.

• Whenever she wants to try something new she does it in small little hints, she’s way too nervous to express what it is that she wants. She’d do this by sending you her cart on a sex toy website, telling you that you two should look into trying new things to, in her words, ‘spice it up’. Sometimes she’d even leave her tabs open on purpose so when you one time opened it for a Zoom call with your family you instead found multiple websites with different toys catering to each. She told you it was an accident, but she seemed way too excited when they arrived in the mail a few days later after you placed your order.

• This woman has begged you to peg her and she will continue to do so. She never thought she’d be so interested in it, but one night when your mouth was busy wrapped around her cock and your thumb trailed down to her asshole to test the waters, you swore you’d never seen her cum so hard. She has a few but plugs and will sometimes even tease you while you’re at work with photos of said objects, even taking to going on patrol as her favorite one had been buried inside of her.

• When you first found out about her late-night job as a superhero you couldn’t deny the biting of your lip that occurred when seeing her in her suit. While she was explaining herself anxiously and refusably apologizing for not telling you, you were too busy staring at the way her suit hugged her biceps. Her red hair was messy due to the ridding of her mask and her breasts were hugged perfectly, how could you stop yourself? You threw yourself onto her as she was backed into the wall, your mouth on hers as your knee pressed against her growing bulge. That night your face was painted with her cum as you stroked her off while she was still in her suit, the sight alone caused you to soak through your panties which were later ruined.

• Once Wanda becomes more experienced and used to the act she’d look into more ludicrous things, such as ropes. At first, she thought she’d buy them, but then she pulled you into her one night by her webs and the reaction out of both of you was pornographic. She ate you out while you were pinned against the wall, and when you tried to wiggle away out of overstimulation, she used her webs out of instinct to keep you tied down. Your hands and legs were covered with her substance as she brought you to the edge multiple times.

• Sometimes when she’d come home it would be late at night, much to your dismay. So, on these nights, she’d find herself staring at your half-naked body covered loosely by the blankets. It brought shame when she found her length in her hand, stroking herself to release over your sleeping form. This happened more times than she’d wish to admit, but one night, as her eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, her body towering over you, you found yourself waking up. She didn’t notice until she felt your cold hands covering her own, helping her up-and-down motions. You teased and tortured her that night, shaming her for doing such a dirty, perverted thing when you were out of consciousness.

• One of her deep fantasies, ones she’d never share with anyone but her own mind, is the thought of fucking you in public while in her suit. Having everyone see Spider-Woman fucking her partner, the guilt and fear in your eyes disappearing when you cum all over her cock, feeling her fill your cunt with her seed.

• She loves breeding you. Like, so much. She discovered this when her condom broke one night and she accidentally came inside of you. You didn’t push her off of you, instead wrapping your legs around her waist to keep her close. And when she pulled out she admired the white substance oozing out of you, not being able to hold herself back as her fingers thrusted into you, restricting her cum from leaking. After that, she’d beg to fill you up and while you were hesitant at first, you eventually gave in, finding yourself pleading for the same as your orgasm came rushing through you.

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x reader angst #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader smut #spider man #spider man!Wanda Maximoff

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*

A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Teaser >> Part 2

===

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”

“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.

“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”

“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.

A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.

“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”

Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.

A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”

Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”

“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.

“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.

Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.

“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”

“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.

“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”

“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”

“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”

“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.

Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.

“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”

His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”

“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.

“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”

“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.

He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.

“A Navy Seal.”

Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”

“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”

“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”

“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”

“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”

“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”

Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.

===

Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”

Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.

“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”

“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.

“Asshole.”

“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.

Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”

Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”

“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”

“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.

===

Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.

“There are Seals on this base?”

“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.

“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.

Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”

“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”

“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”

Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.

Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”

Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”

With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”

The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.

Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”

“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.

“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”

“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”

===

A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!

And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!

Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @fandomxpreferences @fighterpilothoe @dempy @gizmodear @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @javden @snubug @indigomaegrimm @twsssmlmaa @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @waywardhunter95 @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @melss24 @heli991113 @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins Sorry if I missed anyone!

#a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #Fern finally writes something! #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #controlled chaos squad #callsign bruiser

[celiastjamesoscar]

Say Yes to Heaven

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: It was never Sam’s intention to fall in love with you, but after countless nights tangled up in sheets together, she fell for you. But her love came with consequences, and she knew she could never provide you with the life you needed. So she broke up her arrangement with you, breaking your heart in the process as well.

Trope: friends with benefits

Warnings: mentions of smut at the beginning, angst, insecure and extremely soft Sam, cussing, Sam protecting reader from herself (Sam), self-destructive Sam, Billy slanders Sam

My Masterlist

AN: ‘Say Yes to Heaven’ heavily inspired this. In Lana we trust!

Word Count: 11.8K

With a heavy sigh and a small prayer, Sam clocked out of the cafe. It was nearing 11:30 at night, and she wanted to sleep and maybe do a few fun activities with you before that.

When Sam moved to New York, she was ready to put her past behind her and steer clear of relationships for a while, at least until she met you.

You were working on a project with Tara when Sam first met you, and she was immediately enthralled with you. Where Sam never smiled, you always wore a smile on your lips, and where Sam had dark, haunting eyes, yours lit up every room you walked in.

You and Sam were complete opposites, but you fit together like puzzle pieces. So, when Tara had invited you over for a late-night hangout with the group and got a few beers in the mix, you walked past the bathroom and heard Sam talking to herself.

“You okay?” You worriedly asked as you gently knocked on the half-opened door. Sam turned her head and gave you a weak smile, “Yeah, I’m okay.” But how her eyes refused to meet your own and her eyes seemed darker told you a different story.

So, you approached the woman and placed your hand on her tricep and gently rubbed up and down, trying your best to comfort the girl. “Just so you know, I’m here for you, Sam. I always will be,” you said with a smile.

She didn’t know why, but when Sam was with you, you always quieted her father’s voice, and when she pressed her lips against yours, his voice was completely gone.

The soft and eager kisses you shared in the bathroom were your first with her but certainly not your last. The gasps and muffled moans that escaped Sam’s lips were the closest you had ever been to magic, but you were quickly pulled back to reality when Sam pulled away and left you in the bathroom.

You continued the night as if nothing had happened between you and the older woman, but when you got up to go to the bathroom, Sam slipped a note in your hand as she returned to the living room from her bedroom. You nearly fainted when you read the beautiful penmanship that said, ‘My room at 2.’

When the time reached two, and thankfully, everyone else was asleep, you snuck off to Sam’s room and were instantly greeted by her soft lips assaulting your own. The soft moans you pulled from Sam sounded like angels singing, and when you tasted her, you knew you could never get enough. If God would allow it, you would live and die between Samantha Carpenter’s thighs, and it would be the best life you could possibly live.

And that’s how your arrangement came to be with the woman; two or three times a week, you would meet up and have sex but act like friends in public. You weren’t going to lie; it hurt you, but you wouldn’t complain as long as you had her.

Recalling your first time together, Sam smiled as she drove to her apartment and eagerly sent you a text asking you to come over once she got home. By the time she arrived at her place, she only had enough time to take a quick shower before you were eagerly knocking at her door.

The smile on your face was almost comical when Sam opened the door and quickly pulled you into a kiss. Your lips danced with hers as you stumbled into her room and locked the door. You gently pushed Sam down on the bed and peppered kisses along her jawline and neck. “Is Tara home?” You muttered between kisses on her neck. “No. Mindy’s,” Sam said heavily as her fingers started to scratch down your back.

“Good,” you replied before kissing Sam’s lips and removing her shirt.

You kissed down her chest and removed her bra before worshiping her breasts. Your lips left a trail of soft kisses and rough hickeys as they traveled from her neck to her sternum and down to her hips. Even though Sam was tough on the outside and pretended like she didn’t need to be taken care of, she was the softest with you.

The sex you had with Sam was the softest and most genuine you had ever had before, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The way Sam would intertwine your hands when you were buried between her thighs, eating her out like she was your last meal on earth was something that had your heart do flips, and when she pulled you up to her lips and gently cupped your cheeks before kissing you; you knew she liked it soft more than anything else.

You loved the beautiful pleas and moans that left Sam’s lips as you gently kissed and nipped at her thighs before focusing on where she needed you the most. And you groaned when you felt Sam’s hand fly into your hair and tug, roughly encouraging you to keep it up.

The aftercare was probably what you enjoyed the most; the way Sam wanted to be cuddled after her orgasm to remind herself that you wouldn’t leave her made you fall in love with her. You would provide her with water and maybe even some snacks while you prepared a bubble bath for you two to share, and Sam melted into your hold as she relaxed her back against your front, enjoying the hot water with you. When you would wash her hair and run your fingers through it, a few involuntary moans would escape Sam’s lips, and you would chuckle before placing a few chaste kisses on the hickeys that littered her neck.

“I love it when you do that,” you would mumble against her neck and Sam would slightly turn her head and press her lips to yours, silently telling you to keep it up.

There were rare moments throughout your life where you were sure about something, but you were confident that your purpose on this earth was to please and cater to Sam; you would live and die a happy life if that were all you did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft sound of labored breathing could be heard within Sam’s room. After countless hours of enjoying each other’s bodies, Sam lay naked on your bare chest. You traced gentle patterns on Sam’s back with your left hand while you held Sam’s hand with your other, and she kissed your collarbone before leaning up to look at you. “Can I tell you something?” She asked with honest eyes even though her tone seemed scared.

You didn’t know about Sam’s past, and she was grateful for that, even though she was positive you knew about the rumors circulating on the internet about her. But you never asked, and she felt that she owed you for that. Sam was comfortable with you, which terrified her; when she was comfortable, she was vulnerable, and Sam didn’t know if she could trust you. But when she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but love and understanding, she knew she could trust you with everything; her body, her heart, her soul, her past.

You placed a quick kiss on her lips before speaking in a quiet tone, “Of course, Sam; what is it?” With a sigh, Sam leaned her head on your chest and told you everything: how her actual father was Billy Loomis, how her adoptive father left, the Ghostface attacks, her drug addiction, her schizophrenia, and how she saw her dead father, everything.

Sam expected you to get up and leave or tell her that you wanted to break things off. Hell, she even expected you to scream at her and leave her too, but when she felt you place the softest kiss on her head and whisper, “You’re still my Sammy,” all her worries disappeared. She knew it wasn’t a part of your deal, but she slowly felt herself falling for you, and you also fell for her.

Sam leaned up from your chest and stared into your love-struck ones. “I don’t deserve you,” she choked out with a laugh as tears welled in her eyes. You shook your head and cupped Sam’s cheeks with your hands. “Don’t you ever say that, Sam. You deserve to be loved; you deserve to have someone in your life who cares for you and will do anything for you. You deserve to know what peace feels like,” you stated as you kissed her Cupid’s bow, “Samantha Carpenter, you deserve all of the love in the world.”

And when you spoke, Sam knew she was doomed to fall in love with you, but she also knew she was unloveable.

So, she did what she thought was best for you: she broke it off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we should stop this,” Sam admitted one night while you were at her place. You two had the entire apartment to yourselves, and you had been tasting each other for hours. Sam lay on your chest when she spoke but leaned up and moved to hang her legs over the side of the bed as if she was getting ready to stand up. The statement caught you off guard, and you thought it was a joke.

“What? Why?” You asked with a dry laugh as you moved to your left side and gently reached out and rubbed Sam's naked back, but the girl flinched at your delicate touch. “Sam, what’s wrong?” Your heart dropped into your stomach when your lover flinched at your touch, something she had never done before.

“I just think we should stop this,” Sam replied while standing up and walking to her closet. She couldn’t face you while she did this; if it made her coward, so be it. If she saw the heartbreak on your face, she would never forgive herself.

You huffed before leaning up in bed and holding the blankets over your chest.

You admired Sam’s naked body as she picked through her clothes and threw on a loose t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Give me a reason,” you stated, clearly leaving no room for negotiation. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sam replied as she gathered your clothes and handed them to you.

With a scoff, you snatched your clothes from Sam and quickly threw them on. “I know you said that, but why? Why would you tell me that after I just fucked you?” You exclaimed with bewilderment in your voice. This wasn’t the Sam you knew, and you knew that something was bothering her.

Sam refused to meet your gaze and crossed her arms, something she only did when trying to isolate herself, “I just think it’s time we moved to different things.” A dry laugh left your lips as you sat down on the end of Sam’s bed. “Different things?’ Sam, you don’t spend six fucking months sleeping with someone and then just decide out of nowhere you don’t want to anymore!” You exclaimed.

“Yes, I can. It’s called having a change of heart. And besides, we both agreed to no strings attached,” Sam defended. You saw the tears in her eyes and how her voice broke when she spoke, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“Yes, but that was before…” You trailed off with a sigh, “That was before I fell in love with you. I love you, Sam.”

A single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as you spoke; she felt her heart rip into tiny pieces as she took in your confession. She wanted nothing more than to tell you that she loved you, yearned for your soft kisses and sweet words and that her life would mean nothing if she didn’t have you. But Sam knew that she could not provide you with a good life; her schizophrenia would drive you away, along with her haunting past of drug addiction and the Ghostface accusations. She believed she was helping you in the end, even though you couldn’t see it.

“Please, do not say that,” Sam quietly admitted as her lip quivered and another tear fell down her cheek, “Not now, Y/N. Please.”

You moved from the bed and gently gripped Sam’s wrists, and she finally made eye contact with your sullen eyes. “I know you feel it too, Sam. Please, I’m begging you, Give peace a chance, and let the fear you have fall away,” you pleaded with a weak voice as your vision blurred with tears, “Say yes to me.”

Sam knew that if she said yes to you, she’d be saying yes to heaven and all the wonders that included letting herself love you, but it would ruin your life.

With a shake of her head, Sam pulled back from you, “You don’t want me, Y/N. I’m too fucked up to give you the life you deserve, and I’m trying to protect you from that.”

“Fuck that! I want you, Sam. I need you,” you exclaimed as you felt your heart break even more and tears streamed down your face, “Tell me you want me too. I know you do. We do everything couples do, Sam. We go to dinner together, we share a bed, we kiss and have sex. Fuck, we even go on dates together, and I even bring you flowers!”

Sam wrapped her arms around you and gently kissed your forehead as you cried into her chest and gripped her back. “One day, I’ll find someone who isn’t the schizophrenic daughter of a famous serial killer, and they will give you the best fucking life you could possibly have, Y/N. Which is something I can’t give you,” Sam choked out as her tears started to freefall.

You pulled away from Sam’s chest, and your chest tightened when you saw how difficult this was for her. You knew she was only doing this to protect you, but you didn’t want her protection; you wanted her. You both wanted each other, but perhaps this was the best course of action.

With a small sniffle, you left Sam’s room and went to the front door to leave, but you sent Sam one last glance. Sam approached you and handed you your keys and phone. “You might need these,” Sam joked, but it wasn’t funny at all.

You swallowed any pride you had left and kissed her hard for a final time, and you nearly cried when she kissed you back and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you into her and feeling your soft skin against her own for the last time. “You don’t have to do this,” you muttered against her lips, but she pulled back from you and opened the door. “I know, but it’s for your own good,” Sam replied as you stepped out into the hallway.

That was the problem with Sam; she always did things to protect others from herself. She never allowed herself to enjoy things in life, and that even meant you. Sam’s own mother had told her that she was unloveable and she shouldn’t waste her time on relationships because no one would ever want her, so she didn’t want you to waste your time with someone like her. She wanted to allow herself to love, cherish, and kiss you; she longed to tell you that she loved you, but her past traumas prevented her from telling you, so she loved you from a distance.

So when you walked down the hallway and Sam closed the door to her apartment, you felt your heart close for good with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days after your split from Sam were blurs; you went to class, did your homework, and slept. You did this for weeks, and you never talked to anyone, too heartbroken to care. You missed your home; you missed your Sam. She was your world, your everything, and in the blink of an eye, you were stranded with nowhere to go.

You could go any you wanted, anywhere you wanted, just not home.

And that killed you. You had never felt heartbreak like this, and you were sure that you would never recover from it. Of course, you knew other people would come along, but no one would ever compare to Sam. You would do anything to have just one more night with her, but you knew it would never work as long as she refused to believe that she deserved happiness.

When you stumbled into your apartment around ten at night, you heard hushed voices in the living room, but you paid them no mind and went into your room.

You had kicked off our shoes when you heard a gentle knock at your door. “Go away,” you replied as you gathered clean clothes for a shower.

The door quickly flung open as Anika marched over to you and forcefully shoved you into your bed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She hissed as she stared you down, “You have been so goddamn moody this past month, and you don’t talk to anyone! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Anika,” you replied while standing up, but Anika refused to let you get by. “Nope, I don’t believe you. Tell me,” the girl commanded, but you had no mind to tell her what was wrong.

“I’m fine, seriously. School is just getting to me; that’s all,” you said with a fake smile, and Anika did not buy it for one second. But she knew you would talk about it on your own time, so with a sigh, she went to your bedroom door but stopped and faced you, “Just…Come out and talk with the group; they miss you.”

You didn’t have any time to ask Anika who the group was before she left your room and shut your door.

With a sigh, you went into your bathroom, took an excessively long shower, and only got out when no hot water was left. You slowly got dressed and sat on your bed for five minutes, debating if you really wanted to go and socialize, but you sucked it up and left your room.

When Sam saw you enter the living room, her heart cried out for you. Your once bright eyes had dark bags under them, and your cheeks looked hollow, as if you weren’t eating enough. And that beautiful smile you once had was nowhere to be seen; a fake one lived in its place. She knew this was her fault; she was just trying to protect you from her, but seeing you like this destroyed her.

Sam wouldn’t lie; breaking things off with you was the hardest thing she had ever done, and missing you was far worse. She missed you like the stars missed the sun in the morning sky, and she only wanted to have you back, but it was for the best. Not only did she have a lot of baggage, but she was a full six years older than you, and by the time you were her age, you would have already started your life with someone who had their shit together, not a dead-end job and no college degree.

You gave the group a fake smile as you sat in a lonesome chair in the corner of the room. The group consisted of Mindy, Anika, Chad, Tara, and Sam. The woman you loved was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, and you tried your best to keep a great distance between you and her without raising eyebrows.

“Alright, I’m just going to cut to the chase: What the fuck, Y/N? You disappear out of thin air on me, and you don’t return any of my calls,” Tara stated as she looked at you. She didn’t know what had happened between you and her sister, but she had her suspicions once she saw Sam with a hickey on her neck after you came over.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I really am. I have just been swamped with homework, and I’ve been studying for the MCAT,” you stated as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not expecting this integration from the more petite girl. It wasn’t a complete lie; the MCAT was murdering you, and you were solely running on coffee and Red Bull, but you weren’t in the mood to admit your love affair with Sam to your friends.

“Mhm,” Tara replied as she glared at you. She didn’t believe you at all and knew something else was bothering you, but she wasn’t going to question you about it in front of people, but she will do it when you two are alone. “So then, would you want to come to my place for a movie night this Sunday?”

You thought about the offer momentarily; you wanted to have a night with your friends, but you didn’t want to be around Sam. “Sure, what time?” You asked while sending a quick glance at Sam, and you noticed that her eyes hadn’t left you since you first walked into the room.

When your eyes locked, your hearts quickened and soon started to beat in sync, as if you two were soul-tied and the universe knew it. You saw how Sam’s dark eyes were darker than usual and how there were stress lines between her eyebrows, and you swore you could see the faintest of gray hair. A slight frown pulled at your lips when you finally realized how much Sam wanted you, but she told herself she couldn’t have you.

“Sometime around 7, if that’s alright with you,” Tara replied with a small smile, completely ignorant about your stare-down with her sister. “Sounds good. I shall be there,” you said.

A small groan left Mindy’s lips as she pushed herself off the couch, “Thank god you two got that sorted out; now it’s time to drink,” she stated as she walked into the kitchen area and pulled out two six-packs.

With a loud thump, Mindy sat them on the coffee table before you and the group, “Anyone thirsty?”

One drink turned into two, two turned into three, and then many more as the night continued. When the time rolled around to one in the morning, you were definitely drunk off your ass, but the alcohol helped numb the pain in your chest.

You were sitting on the couch next to Tara as you watched a comedy movie with the group due to Chad’s selection. “This is such a shitty movie,” Mindy whined while throwing her back to add more effect. A scoff came from Chad as he faced his sister, “‘Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan’ is an awesome movie, actually. You just don’t have taste.”

“That title is the reason this movie sucks,” Mindy replied but shut up once Anika laid her head in the twin’s lap.

You conversed with Tara while Chad watched the movie, and Mindy and Anika fell asleep on the couch together. Sam was sitting on a small chair next to you and Tara but made no effort to join your conversation.

“So, seriously, Y/N. How come you ghosted me?” Tara asked with a slight frown. She missed having you over every weekend even though you only stayed to be knuckles deep in her sister at some point throughout the night.

You fidgeted with your fingers while looking down at the floor, “I’ve just been…” you didn’t know the correct way to word this without throwing Sam under the bus, “I’ve been going through some stuff, and it sucks.”

The younger girl moved closer to you and gently took your hands into her own, “You’re my best friend, Y/N. You can tell me about anything that’s bothering you.”

“I know; it’s just not something I want to talk about. I hope you can understand,” you replied with a weak smile. You felt Sam’s guilt-ridden gaze on yours, and you couldn’t bear to look at her. ‘I’ve got my eye on you,’ Sam thought to herself as her worry grew with every second that passed.

“I understand,” Tara said as she gave your hands a caring squeeze before pulling them back and leaning against the back of the couch, “You know, Sam has also been going through something as well.”

When the words left Tara’s mouth, you instantly perked up, and your eyes locked with Sam’s guilt-ridden ones. “Tara, that’s not for you to share,” Sam remarked through gritted teeth as she stared at her sister. “I know, but maybe that’s something you two could talk about,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch and stuck an arm toward you and Sam.

You shared a quick glance with Sam and a silent conversation with her before you grudgingly took Tara’s hand and allowed the girl to pull you up from the couch. She did the same with Sam and led you two into your bedroom.

“Do not come back out until you two have talked about your problems,” Tara said with a knowing smile as she locked the door from the inside and left. “I can literally unlock the door,” you mumbled under your breath as you walked to the door and unlocked it.

You sighed as you turned around and faced Sam, and you almost frowned at how out of place she looked. The woman before you had been in your room countless times before, and she practically knew it like the back of her hand, but now, she was just as awkward as when you go over to someone’s house for the first time.

“You can make yourself at home, you know,” you said as you walked to your bed, took off your shoes, and sat down. You rested your back against the headboard and brought your feet onto the bed as Sam approached your bed. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” She quietly asked, and your heart cracked at how weak it was. The voice used to be full of love and certainty, but now it was only a ghost of itself.

“Sam, you’ve been naked in this bed before. Of course, you can join me,” you said with a small laugh before Sam copied your actions from before. When she got comfortable on your bed, you two sat in awkward silence as you stared forward, neither knowing what to say but wanting to say everything.

You looked over at Sam’s, and you noticed the frown on her lips as she battled with her thoughts. “I miss you,” Sam breathlessly admitted, “I know it’s fucked up and wrong of me to say this, but I really do miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sam,” you replied. A wry laughter Sam’s lips, and she choked out, “Some nights, I’ll wake up in an empty bed and think that you’re either in the bathroom or up talking to Tara, so I wait for you to get back. Only, you never show up.”

A small tear ran down your cheek, and your lip quivered as you tried to keep your composure. “I got so used to sleeping in your arms that most nights I cuddle with Squid to go to sleep,” you joked through a broken voice, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Squid was your cat sent straight from Hell who hated any affection but somehow loved Tara and only her. Probably because they were both small and evil, but you shrugged it off as both of them being like-minded. You looked at Sam and noticed her hiding her hands in her bomber jacket pockets, something she only did when she saw her father.

“You saw him again. Didn’t you?” You worriedly asked. You knew how Sam got when she saw Billy, and the only way to get her back to her normal self was to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let you do that after she destroyed your heart.

Sam didn’t respond to you, debating on whether she should tell you that CVS ran out of her antipsychotics a few days ago, and Billy was starting to get more persistent. “I’m fine; nothing new,” Sam replied while refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

Of course, you knew she was lying, but you would never pressure her into talking, and it was one of the many things she loved about you.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it,” you said as you reached over to Sam and gently placed your hand on her thigh, “I’m always here for you.”

Sam’s eyes shot to your hand, and heat instantly crept up her neck at the contact. “Thank you, Y/N, but I’m fine,” Sam mumbled.

“Okay, but if you need anything, you can always call me Sam. No matter what it is, I’ll drop everything and come to you,” you said as you gently squeezed Sam’s thigh before removing your hand and placing it in your lap.

A few awkward beats of silence passed before you quietly asked, “So, how have you been?” Sam chuckled at your question. “You seriously did not ask me that,” Sam joked.

“I don’t know what else to say,” you replied with a small laugh, “But seriously, Sam. How have you been?”

Sam looked at you, and she saw the genuine concern in your eyes. “I feel like I should be asking you that question,” Sam weakly replied. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at Sam, and the older woman felt all the love she felt for you come flooding back, and all she wanted to do was kiss you.

Instead of giving in to her urges and desires, Sam, once again, decided what was best for you. She got off your bed, and your eyes followed as she opened your door. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” You asked when she was halfway out the door.

Sam turned to face you, and you saw the tears in her eyes, showing a rare emotion. “I believe so,” Sam replied with a weak smile, “Goodnight, Y/N.” And with that, Sam left your room and shut your door.

Once again leaving you. And for the first time, you let her go without a fight; you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve been seeing someone,” Sam blankly admitted one night with Tara. The two sisters were in Sam’s room, and Tara was cuddled up next to her sister as she dozed in and out of consciousness, but she eagerly shot up at Sam’s statement.

“As In hallucinations or dating?” Tara asked with a raised eyebrow. Knowing Sam, it could be both; she hoped it was the latter.

“Yes, as in dating, you fucking asshole,” Sam huffed under breath as she sat up in bed. Tara moved off of Sam completely and sat crisscrossed on the bed. “Who is it?” Tara asked with an idea of who it was.

She wasn’t stupid; she noticed how you suddenly stopped coming over the mood shift Sam had gone through. And Tara also noticed how Sam’s eyes were always bloodshot, as if she had been crying.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Sam asked.

“I cannot promise you how future Tara will react to the news I am about to receive,” the younger sister replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

With a small sigh, Sam looked at her sister before confessing, “I had been sleeping with Y/N for six months.”

Nothing. That’s all Sam could hear: nothing. Not even the sound of her breathing or the AC running; it was silent. She was ready to leave when Tara exclaimed, “I fucking knew it!”

The younger sister wrapped her arms around Sam and gently shook the girl back and forth, “I fucking knew it!! I called it!”

“Called what?” Sam asked as she pushed out of Tara’s tight hold and looked at her sister’s eyes full of excitement. “I knew you and Y/N were together since I first saw a hickey on your neck after she ‘disappeared’ somewhere!” Tara replied while making air quotes.

“Whatever, just don’t get too excited about it. We aren’t together anymore,” Sam mumbled.

“Well, I figured as much. You have been extra grumpy lately, and Y/N has been more reserved.”

“I am not grumpy!” Sam defended.

“Yes, you are! You get grumpy when you go a period of time without sex. And it only started when you got with Y/N!” Tara remarked as if she had been studying Sam’s behavioral patterns for a while now. “So, why did you break it off with her?”

“Because she can do much better than me,” Sam admitted. Tara took a few minutes to think about her sister’s words before speaking, “And why is that?”

Sam scoffed, “What do you mean? She can do a lot better than me. I don’t have a college degree, I work two shitty jobs, and I’m six years older than her.”

“Sam, I love you, I really do. But do you think Y/N cares about an age gap? That woman would murder someone just to go on a date with Jennifer Aniston; I think you’re fine. And Y/N wants you for who you are, Sam. Not something you are trying to force yourself to be,” Tara replied, and Sam had to admit, she had a point. “I know, it’s just different,” Sam weakly retorted as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“So what happened then? You freak out and push her away?” Tara blatantly asked. She knew how her sister pushed people away when things got rough for her, and to be frank, it hurt her to see Sam push away the people she loved just to protect them from her.

Sam dropped her hand down to her lap and fidgeted with her fingers while she thought about how to word this. Yes, she did break things off with you and push you away, but it was also something more serious than that.

When it came time for Sam to get serious in a relationship, she always ran away from it. But this time, she was ready to get serious with you. She wanted to share a home with you somewhere; she wanted to wake up in bed with you every morning for the rest of her days, and if she was lucky enough, Sam wanted to marry you. And that terrified the shit out of her.

Being in a committed, long-term relationship horrified Sam; she was scared of being stuck with someone and unable to get out. But when she was with you, the only thing she could think about was how beautiful your name would sound if it ended with ‘Carpenter.’

“It’s complicated,” Sam finally said with a shrug of her shoulders, hoping Tara would let it slide.

“No, it’s not! You just have commitment issues,” Tara exclaimed with her hands.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh really? Then how come you broke up with Y/N?”

“Because…” Sam finally realized that she did, in fact, have commitment issues, “because I am scared to get serious with someone,” she whispered, afraid that Tara would judge her.

Tara moved closer to her sister and gently took Sam’s hands. “Sam, I want you to listen to me, and you listen well. Y/n loves you. Okay? I know that scares the shit out of you, but she really does. She would do anything for you, even if that meant letting you break her heart. But please, do not let this once-in-a-lifetime relationship slip out of your fingers because you are scared to commit to it. Okay? If you really do want a relationship with her, then please tell her, and do not push her away, because a human can only take so much heartbreak before they are too broken to care about others. Please don’t do that to Y/N.”

Sam took Tara’s words as guilt and regret spread throughout her body. Of course, she loved you, but she was afraid that if she told you, you would run away in fear and never talk to her again. But now, as she listened to her sister’s words, she realized she might have already done that. Sam just hoped it wasn’t too late to make it up to you.

With a small sigh, Sam got up from her bed and excused herself to the bathroom. When she walked in and shut the door, she was greeted by her ever-loving father.

“It’s been a while, Sam,” Billy acknowledged while staring at Sam through the mirror. “Please, not tonight,” Sam quietly replied as she grabbed her toothbrush.

It had been a week since CVS ran out of her medication, and she started to see Billy everywhere: the reflections on the train windows, in the puddles of rain that scattered the cracked sidewalk, she even noticed in the corner of her room once, and that was the first. Sam had always seen him in reflections or mirrors, never by himself, and she knew it was only the beginning when she caught the faintest glimpse of him in her corner.

“You never want me to talk to you, Sam. It’s honestly quite insulting,” Billy retorted with a snort, clearly amused with himself. “Honestly, Sam. Why do you hate me?”

A loud scoff left Sam’s lips as she tried her best to keep him quiet, hoping that Tara wouldn’t have to see her talking to Billy. “Leave me alone,” Sam whispered as she wet her toothbrush, put some paste on it, and brushed her teeth.

“Leave you alone? Are you insane? What would you do without me?” Billy exclaimed. Sam didn’t respond to her father as she continued brushing her teeth and ignored the lecture she was getting about following in his footsteps.

“Seriously, Sam. How could you fumble Y/N?” Billy joked as Sam spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth. She could excuse her father talking to her about murdering people, but she drew the line at slandering you. “That’s enough,” Sam dryly replied as she began flossing her teeth.

“No, it’s not. I might be a figment of your imagination, but I will be damned if I let you pass up on Y/N! That’s just bad parenting,” Billy defended as he crossed his arms. “What are you going to do to get her back?”

“Nothing,” Sam commented as she threw away the string and turned to leave. “Sam, please. Don’t let this pass you up. You will regret letting Y/N go for the rest of your life if you don’t go after her,” Billy reasoned but stopped talking when Sam turned off the light and left the room.

She didn’t need to get lectured by her serial killer father right after her sister finished preaching to her, but maybe he gave out some good advice occasionally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week following your conversation with Sam was typical, even though you occasionally cried yourself to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night looking for Sam. And you had miraculously found yourself another suitor.

Of course, you looked at other women following your split from Sam, and you put them into two categories: Sam and not Sam. And no one else seemed to fill the void that Sam left, even though one girl came close.

She was your age and was attending your university when you ran into her at a party, and you two hit it off. You both shared a love for books and nature, but when you were with her, you felt nothing, only longing for your beautiful Latina.

“Are you even paying attention?” Ashley asked as she snapped her fingers before your face, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Mhm? Oh, yeah. Sorry about that,” you mumbled as you looked around the library. It was later in the evening, and you and Ashley were studying for your MCAT together, but all you could think about was Sam.

“Well, then,” Ashley said with a playful smirk on her lips, “Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

The question had caught you off guard, and you certainly weren’t expecting her to be so forward about it. “Um, yeah. Just let me know when,” you replied with a fake smile that Ashley didn’t pick up on. “Sweet! I’ll text you the deets! See ya!” Ashley said as she stood up from the table and kissed your cheek before waltzing away.

The kiss surprised you, and when you felt her lips on your skin, you didn’t feel anything. Not a single spark, and it didn’t make your stomach get tingly like it did with Sam. So, in your eyes, she was just another Not-Sam. But when she texted you late one Thursday, asking you out to dinner on Saturday, you couldn’t find yourself to say no.

Even though she never compared to your Sammy, you were willing to settle for a nice enough girl who had the same career path as you. And hopefully, you could find it in yourself to love her one day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday night had arrived, and for the first time in two months, you got dressed up for a date. You and Sam had made a habit of going on dinner dates at least once a month, as you both hated the idea of classic dates. Your normal dates would consist of small hikes, going to the movies, sometimes watching a local play, shopping at the local bookstores, picking out flowers for each other, and the occasional date where she would pick out a tattoo for you to get.

The thought of getting matching tattoos disgusted you, but you had no problem with letting Sam pick out a tattoo for you, as long as you agreed with it, of course.

You wore a simple black suit with a sheer shirt, classy but still showing a bit of skin. Naturally, you had no intention of trying to impress Ashley, but you wanted to dress up, and it felt good to get fancy occasionally.

Your phone dinged with a text from Ashley, telling you that she was heading to the restaurant now, so you grabbed your keys and jacket and left your room to tell Anika that you were leaving.

When Sam saw you enter the living room dressed in a nice black suit with the jacket in your hand, she felt her heart rip and almost lost her breath. She had killed you, but it killed her just the same. Seeing you dress up for someone who was clearly not her hurt in more ways than a bullet to the brain ever would.

“Alright, Anika, I’m leaving,” you said as you approached the couch and gave Anika a fist bump. You tried your best to ignore the tension in the room as Sam stared at you.

“Let me know if you’re bringing her back here or going over to her place,” Anika said with a smile. She was glad to see you finally leave your room and go out with someone, even if she hated the woman you were going with.

“Sounds good,” you replied with a weak smile that faltered when your eyes landed on Sam. The Latina had a blank expression, but her eyes told a thousand stories. You could see the heartbreak in them, along with the love and yearning she felt toward you. You wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and finally get rid of all this angst between you two; she was your lifeline, and you needed her like the ocean needs the moon, but you knew breaking things off was for the better.

So, when you cleared your throat and said goodbye to the group, you let a lone tear fall down your cheek at the thought of losing your Sam.

When you left the room, the group of friends let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “Sam,” Tara whispered as she reached for her sister’s hand, but Sam pulled away. They all knew of the situation between you and Sam, and all four of them hated saying you two this way.

“I need a moment to myself,” Sam said as she pushed herself off the couch. “Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?” Tara asked with worry laced in her voice.

“I’ll be fine; I just need to be by myself for a while,” Sam replied as she left the room, went outside to the backyard, and sat at a table. She allowed herself to think about all the times she had with you, and she slowly felt you slipping through her fingers. You were once her home to come back to on a hard day at work, but now, she had nowhere to go.

No one understood her the way you did, and she desperately needed you back, but she would not ruin your date. Sam had been the one to break things off with you, and she needed to pay the consequences. When she heard your car pull out of the driveway and drive down the road, she finally broke down crying, and you weren’t there to catch her.

She didn’t know how long she was crying until she heard the back door creak open, and Tara walked out of the house and approached her. “Sam,” Tara breathed out as she walked to her sister and wrapped her right arm around her, pulling her sister into her chest. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m here for you.”

Tara gently rubbed Sam’s back as she comforted her sister, not knowing what to say to improve it.

After a few minutes, Sam’s cries turned into soft sniffles as she pulled away from her sister. “I take it you didn’t talk to her?” Tara weakly asked. “Nope,” Sam replied with a small laugh, “I guess I deserve this, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t. Well, I mean kind of. You did break it off with her, but still, you deserve love,” Tara commented as she tried her best to comfort Sam but still gave her the hard truth. Sam lightly laughed at Tara’s words while wiping away her tears.

“My entire life, I have been told that I’m destined to be alone, that no one will ever love. My own fucking mother told me that I was unlovable, and I believe her. So when I fell for Y/N, I broke her heart to try and save mine, but it killed me. The only thing I want to do is run to her and tell her that I love her, but I can’t do that because she found someone else, someone who will treat her better than I ever have, and she will give her a better life than I ever will. I pushed away the only person who has ever loved me because I was too much of a coward to say, ‘I love you,’” Sam admitted in a broken voice, and Tara felt her heart break for her sister.

A few beats of silence passed before Sam spoke, “Do you know who she’s going out with?” She knew she would only get hurt by asking, but she needed to know if you had found someone better than her, praying that you did just so she had the final confirmation that you didn’t need her, even though she needed you.

“Sam,” Tara quietly said, afraid to tell Sam the truth, but her sister's look told her that Sam needed to know or else she would not sleep. “The girl’s name is Ashley, and they met at college. They are both in pre-med together.”

The look on Sam’s face was comical; her expression was pure relief even though her eyes told the opposite story and were full of guilt, regret, and longing. “Good. Good,” Sam muttered with a voice full of confidence, “I’m happy for her.”

Tara nodded at her sister’s words, having no idea what to say to make the situation better for Sam. “I guess so. Are you ready to come inside?” Tara asked.

“No, not yet. I just want to be left alone,” Sam replied with a weak smile.

The younger sister nodded at Sam’s words and kissed Sam’s head as she stood up, “Okay, just please let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Sam said as she watched Tara walk away.

The sound of crickets chirping filled the backyard, and as soon as Tara walked inside, he walked out from the shadows.

Sam said nothing as Billy slowly approached her and sat beside her. “Well, looks like you’re on your own, kid. You always have been, though,” Billy remarked.

“What do you want?” Sam defeatedly asked as she looked up at her father. “I want you to suck it up and stop being a little bitch!” Billy exclaimed, clearly angry with his daughter for letting you go.

A small, dry chuckle left Sam’s lips as she exited the table. “Hey, where are you going?” Billy asked as he also got up and followed Sam to the door. “Inside,” Sam replied before she opened the door and closed it on him.

“You know you can’t outrun me, right?” Billy asked as he magically appeared in the living room, right next to Tara. Sam tried her best to hold her tongue as she watched Billy stare at her younger sister.

“Hey, I’m going to go home. Are you fine with staying here, or do you want to come with me?” Sam asked Tara as she ignored her father.

“I’m fine with staying here, but are you sure you want to be alone?” Tara asked, utterly oblivious to the fake man staring at her.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll text you when I get home, though, okay?” Sam said as she walked through Billy and gave Tara a quick hug. “Okay, just be safe,” Tara replied once she pulled away from Sam’s embrace.

Sam said her goodbyes to the rest of the group as she left the house and drove home, with Billy sitting in the passenger seat. He talked the entire way to her apartment, and when Sam turned up the radio to tune him out, he only spoke louder.

When Sam got home, she quickly got inside her apartment and locked the door before going to her room. She took a hot shower while listening to her father’s rant from outside the shower.

He was currently going on about God knows what, but it was driving Sam insane. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to stop talking.

Sam finished her shower and dressed as her father’s voice still filled her head, but she finally had enough when he said, “You know, you honestly suck at being a gay person.”

“Whatever,” Sam dryly replied as she left her bathroom and climbed onto her bed, with Billy in the corner of the room sitting in a chair. “I’m not saying that to be mean, but you honestly do. You should be fighting for your woman, not letting some bitch named Ashley fuck her instead.”

At the mention of you being intimate with someone else, Sam couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her phone and got off her bed.

No drug could ever work as good as you did; she had tried them all, and nothing worked, nothing except you. She needed you more than anything right now, and she had pushed you away because she was scared to feel something that was real. So, she did the only thing she could think about: she called you.

She didn’t care if you screamed at her for breaking your heart; all she needed was your voice to help keep Billy away. She could handle you hating her because that meant you still thought of her. She could not take you being indifferent about her, not being on your mind at all, while you ran laps around her brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m glad you agreed to go on this date with me,” Ashley informed as you walked into the restaurant together. She was wearing a tight green cocktail dress that showed a decent amount of her cleavage, and you respected her attempt to pull your eye.

“I’m thankful for the invite,” you replied with an honest smile as you held the door open for her. You were glad to be going to dinner with someone new, even if the restaurant was too fancy for your taste.

The restaurant was lined with fancy and expensive wines, and marble statues stood in the room's corners as you followed a waiter to your seat.

The table was already set up for two with a small candle in the middle, and you bit back a laugh at the shitty attempt to make this a romantic dinner.

You sat across from Ashley as she took her napkin and placed it on her lap, and you copied her actions.

“Hello, you two lovely ladies. My name is Cole, and I will be your waiter for the night,” a primarily built man stated as he approached your table, “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

“I’ll have water, please,” you quietly said, and Ashley repeated your words. When Cole walked off to grab your beverages, Ashley spoke with you.

Honestly, you felt terrible for not paying attention, but you seriously didn’t want to hear her talk about her rich daddy and the summer home she was staying at this weekend. You were halfway paying attention when you saw a woman in the corner of your eye.

You didn’t see her face; you only saw her jet-black hair and how she carried herself, screamed Sam.

“Sam?” You quietly muttered as your eyes followed the woman, praying she was here to save you. But when the woman turned around, she wasn’t your Sam.

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Ashley asked as she studied your face. She picked up on how you wished this mysterious woman was here, and she hated the idea of another woman being on your mind.

You turned your attention back to your ‘date.’ “Oh, she’s no one, just someone I used to know,” you said with a fake smile.

Ashley just nodded her hair as she twirled her hair around her finger. “Okay, thank god. For a second, I thought you were talking about that Sam Loomis chick,” Ashley replied with a laugh.

“Carpenter,” you stated through a clenched jaw as your hand balled into a fist.

“What?” Ashley asked, pretending to play stupid. The smile on her face aggravated you for some unknown reason, and all you wanted to do was punch her for insulting your soulmate.

“Her name is Sam Carpenter, not Loomis,” you replied in the same stern voice.

“Well, whatever her name is, she’s that psycho bitch that killed a bunch of her friends and even her sister! Can you believe that?” Ashley asked with far too much excitement in her voice.

“No, I can’t. Because she didn’t do that, and her sister is still alive,” you replied with slight irritation. Your anger increased the longer you stayed with Ashley, and you desperately needed to get away from the girl.

Ashley scoffed at your words, “Oh, yeah? How do you know that then? Are you secretly in on the murders, too?”

“No, I just think it’s wrong to judge someone based on some bullshit rumors on Reddit.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Ashley randomly stated as hate overtook her once peaceful eyes, “You’re so fucking pathetic that you can’t believe the facts and evidence that prove that Sam Carpenter is a murderer!”

A dry laugh left your lips as you shook your head back and forth. You had a mischievous smile as you clenched and unclenched your hands, trying your best to keep cool.

You were getting ready to defend Sam’s name when your phone went off, and your heart filled with joy as you read the name.

Never in a million years did you expect Sam to call you, but now, as her name flashed across your screen right before you were getting ready to go jail for assault and battery, you excused yourself as you walked out for the restaurant and answered your phone.

“Sam?” You whispered into the phone, praying you could finally return to your home. You listened to Sam’s shaky breathing on the other end, and you knew you needed to get to her as soon as possible. “Y/N,” Sam replied tremblingly, and you could sense her teary eyes, “I miss my home.”

Your lip quivered at Sam’s broken voice, and a tear fell down your cheek as you said weakly, “I’m leaving now.”

“Please hurry. I need you,” Sam whispered into the phone, trying her best to fight back her tears and Billy’s voice. He had gotten so loud that she couldn’t even hear herself think, and it was becoming too much.

“I will, my love,” you replied as you hung up the phone and returned to your table.

“I’m so sorry, but an emergency has come up, and I need to leave,” you quickly said as you frantically grabbed your keys and wallet. “Here’s a twenty to cover my food; I am sorry about this,” you said as you practically ran out of the restaurant and toward your car, giving Ashley zero time to take in the situation.

You unlocked your car, turned it on, and peeled off towards Sam’s house, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you heard the angelic voice of Lana Del Rey fill the car.

I got my mind on you

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

Say yes to heaven

Say yes to me

I’ve got my eye on you

I’ve got my eye on you

The ironic lyrics caused you to start laughing as you thought back to the beginning of your relationship with Sam.

Ever since you first met the woman, you had your mind on her all hours of the day, even before you got romantically involved with her. You felt like you would wait a lifetime for Sam to say yes to you, and it seemed your eye never left her.

When you parked your car outside Sam’s apartment, you ran as fast as you could up the stairs and knocked rapidly on the door. You didn’t even have time to catch your breath before Sam flung the door open and grabbed your neck, pulling your lips to hers. You kissed her back, and you finally felt yourself returning to your home, to your Sam.

And for the first time in weeks, Sam finally felt her father’s voice disappear as she returned home.

“You came,” Sam breathlessly mumbled against your lips. “You called,” you replied while pulling back to look at your woman. You noticed her bloodshot eyes and dried tear stains on her cheeks and felt your heartbreak. This wasn’t the cold-hearted Sam Carpenter the media portrayed; this was the real Sam Carpenter, scared to be vulnerable and loved but needed to be loved by you. This was the Sam who yearned for your heart with every fiber of her being and who would die for you. She was your soulmate, your home, and if you were lucky enough, maybe even your wife one day.

“What happened, Sam?” You quickly asked while rubbing Sam’s cheek with your thumb. The older woman shook her head as her lip quivered, and a tear fell. You wiped it away and placed a quick kiss where it had ended. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam admitted with an embarrassed tone, “I just need you here with me.”

“Okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” you replied lovingly, and Sam felt nothing but guilt for pushing you away.

Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you into her apartment, shut and locked the door before pulling you into her room. Sam shut the door as she looked through her closet and pulled out some of your clothes.

“I’ve been looking for this,” you quietly said as you reached into Sam’s closet and ran your fingers over your favorite hoodie. A slight frown pulled at Sam’s lips, “Oh. You can have that back,” she muttered as she handed you one of your shirts and a pair of shorts to change into.

“Sam, I don’t want it back. I want you to keep it; I was just stressing over where I put it last,” you replied with a smile as you studied Sam. You noticed how she had her hands hidden again, and the stress lines were more transparent; you knew Billy was bothering her again. You stripped in front of Sam, and for some unknown reason, she turned her head and gave you some privacy.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you joked with a playful smile as you finished changing into comfier clothes, and Sam huffed at your words.

You gave Sam a quick kiss before you walked off into the kitchen with the woman right on your heels. You put some water in a kettle and set it on the stove to boil as you searched for some cocoa mix while Sam studied your actions.

Whenever she saw Billy, you would always make her some hot cocoa and turn on a movie you knew she loved, just to add some extra comfort. The feeling that Sam felt in her chest as she watched you grab the mix and make her a cup once the water was done boiling was something she couldn’t describe. She felt her chest flutter, and her heart beat increased when she saw that smile you reserved for only her.

“What?” You asked with that same smile, and Sam couldn’t keep it to herself anymore; she had to tell you, or it would continue to eat at her.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart explode at Sam’s confession, and you tried your best to keep your emotions in line as she continued talking.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I always have; I’ve just been too scared to admit it. I love you so much that the only way I thought I could love you was by pushing you away, but that destroyed both of us. Whenever I look at you, all I see is my future, and I want to have that with you: a future. But only if you want me, only if you accept me,” Sam admitted with tears in her eyes, hoping you understood what she meant by future: a wife.

Your bottom lip quivered as you approached Sam and gently cupped her cheeks before pulling her into the softest, most loving kiss you two had ever shared, and Sam knew you understood her double meaning.

“I want you to be my future,” you stated against Sam’s lips as your thumb traced her cheekbone before kissing her lips once before, “But finish up your cocoa.” Sam chuckled before kissing your lips to comfort her, before pulling away and picking up her mug.

You talked with Sam about how your lives had been since the split, and you found it ironic that both of your lives had turned downhill. You would occasionally throw tiny marshmallows at Sam and would scold you before putting some in her drink, but she cherished seeing the playful side of you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Sam randomly cut you off as you were talking about your schoolwork. You looked at the woman, whose eyes refused to meet yours as she stared at her mug.

You walked over to Sam and gently placed your left hand on her back, and she turned to face you. You cupped her cheek with your right hand and pulled her into a loving kiss, and she sighed against your lips before kissing you back.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you said once the kiss had ended, and you ignored the way Sam took in a deep breath as if she was surprised you said yes.

“Okay. Good,” Sam replied while pulling away for you, and her heart melted when she saw the giant smile on your lips before a puzzled look appeared on your face.

“What’s this?” You playfully asked as you reached up toward Sam’s face and quickly pulled out a hair.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam exclaimed while you held the hair close to her eyes and scoffed at you; it was a single grey hair.

“I call that one ‘Tara,’” Sam remarked as she took it out of your hand and threw it in the trash can, “I appreciate the hot cocoa, but can we please go to bed?”

“Of course,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her room and shut the door. Sam threw back the covers on her bed and climbed in, opening her arms for you to join her.

With a giant smile, you got in bed next to Sam and cuddled up to her chest, and you both finally felt at home when Sam wrapped her arms around you and placed a loving kiss on your head. Telling you that she wasn’t going anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara let out a small groan as she twisted and turned in bed before fumbling for her phone and checking the time: 3:33 a.m. She groaned as she rose from the bed, and her tiny bare feet patted against the flooring as she walked into the kitchen. Tara grabbed a bottle of water before approaching Sam’s door, but she stopped her hand from knocking.

The girl heard muffled voices inside, and she heard Sam talking to someone, “You know you don’t have to leave, right?” The stranger sighed at Sam’s words as they approached the closed door, “I know, but I'm already in the dog house with Gale, and if I’m not back in her apartment in the morning, she’ll have my head.” Somehow, Tara recognized that voice, and she knew that she should know who it was, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.

When Tara heard a hand land on the door, she flew into the living room and hid beside the couch as the door opened.

Sam and the stranger walked to the door together, and a giant smile grew on Tara’s face when she saw that it was you. With a small sigh, Sam smiled at you, “Okay, just please text me back when you get home, okay?”

“I always do,” you joked with a giant grin as you leaned in and kissed Sam, and you felt your heart explode when she kissed you back. “I love you,” Sam admitted against your lips before you opened the door and turned to face her.

“I love you too, Sam. More than you will ever know,” you replied as you placed a final quick kiss on Sam’s lips before leaving.

Sam closed and locked the door and jumped when she saw Tara standing before her with a creepy grin and straight stance. “Jesus Christ, you’re creepy as fuck,” Sam stated as she walked to her room with Tara on her heels.

“What was that?” Tara asked while making a sour face when she walked into Sam’s room and breathed in the air that reeked of sex, “Air out your room, oh my god.”

The older sister scoffed at Tara’s words as she removed the sheets from her bed and threw them into a laundry basket. “I was hanging out with Y/N. Why?” Sam asked while putting on fresh sheets and properly making her bed. “‘Hanging out,’ my ass! You two were fucking!” Tara exclaimed.

“Yes, we were. And don’t act surprised; you were the one who told me to go after her,” Sam replied as she walked into her bathroom and brushed her teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s been almost a month since you officially started dating, and you both couldn’t be happier.

“I know that, but I thought you two would have a bit more decency than this,” Tara scuffed.

Sam spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth before returning to her bedroom. “Don’t judge me for what I do with my girlfriend, Tara,” Sam replied while getting into bed and plugging up her phone.

“How long have you two been dating?” Tara asked, almost hurt that Sam didn’t tell her. “It will be a month next Wednesday,” Sam replied while staring at her sister, “Do you need anything, or are you just here to make fun of me?”

“Well, I was here to ask if I could sleep in here with you tonight, but I’m going back to my room. Because it doesn’t smell like sex!” Tara exclaimed as she left Sam’s room and shut the door.

Sam chuckled at her sister’s reaction before she received a text message.

Y/N <3: Just got home, and I already miss you

Sammy 😼: You’ll see me in the morning time, Y/N. And I miss you too. Goodnight, my love.

Y/N <3: Goodnight, Sammy. I love you

Sammy 😼: I love you too.

Sam smiled as she texted you back and put her phone on her nightstand before lying down for the night. No words could describe her love for you, and she couldn’t wait to start her future with you.

You couldn’t help it when your heart grew ten times as you reread the text message. Sam loved you, and you loved her, and you went to bed with one thought on your mind: She finally said yes to heaven.

#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #spotify

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

“A year.” 

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #Steve rogers #Steve rogers cheating #steve x natasha #Steve angst #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers yn #steve x female reader #Steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers sad #captain america #avengers x fem!reader #the avengers x female reader #steve rogers captain america #Steve rogers betrayal #steven grant rogers

[smellrain]

in which: Jack has liked you for years, but so far you have been oblivious to his feelings. Will the guide he made with the help of his teammate make you fall for him? Or will it end up destroying your friendship?

tags: written, mention of use of alcohol, slight angst. (masterlist for this au) (my masterlist) <prev. part: prologue I next part: ch. 2>

notes: [4.3k] First of all: thank you for your kind words after the prologue yesterday! Very happy that so many of you liked it. There is an analysis post about this chapter here that you might want to check out after! I hope you enjoy :) & come tell me how you liked it!!!

It had been a long day at work for you. The data your boss had assigned you had taken you a lot longer to work on than you’d expected, which meant that you actually, genuinely missed your last lecture of the day. You had texted a barely-even-friend that attended the same elective about her notes but you hadn't gotten a text back so far. 

Standing in front of your door now, you leaned the crown of your head against the outside of it and took a deep breath in. You had missed the key hole not once but twice now and the anger that welled up inside of you was completely unwarranted, so you knew you needed to mentally take at least one step back. 

Four seconds in, seven hold, eight out. In and out. You blinked once and the dark of the wood was an unwelcome reminder of reality. Still, unlocked the door, this time succeeding on the first try. 

The hallway was quiet, but you had expected as much. One of your flatmates had a nightshift at the clinic she was working at while the other was sleeping over at her boyfriends. The blissful silence you had looked forward to this morning seemed suffocating now. 

It didn’t matter. It was fine like this, you were fine.

After turning on the kitchen light, you walked to your room, put down your bag and fell down onto your bed, face first. The scratchy fabric of your bedcover was not nearly as nice as the sheets you had dreamed of all day long. 

For a while you let your eyes fall closed, not asleep, but resting nonetheless. You just wanted to rinse the day off of you, but you were too hungry to even think about showering. 

With a groan you peeled yourself off your bed, sat at the edge of your mattress while an inexplicable urge to cry welled up inside of you. Your day had been really shitty and your were really, really hungry.

But you got up anyway and walked towards the light in the kitchen that shone through through the space of the door to your room.

The music you’d put on in the background helped but it didn’t quite scratch that itch for conversation, for company. When you saw your phone light up from where you had left it on the counter, you hoped it might be the classmate you had texted. 

You rinsed off your hands to see who had messaged you. 

Jack (worst Hughes brother): hey what r you doing tn? You: currently making dinner why what did you do what do you need Jack (worst Hughes brother): nothing  wait why did you assume i did/need sth anyways: can i come over soon?

The shower. You still had to shower, but soon for Jack usually meant at least half an hour. It  should be enough time and besides it was just Jack, no reason to put in more effort than necessary. 

You: because you always text me when you need my help sure, I might be eating by then, have you eaten? Jack (worst Hughes brother): I did like 5min ago wait no ignore that, you’re telling me I could have had some of yours??? jkjk see you soon

You liked the last message and turned the heat off your stove. Shower first, you reminded yourself, even as you mourned the loss of the start of your dinner that you had been frying on the stove. 

When he knocked at your door you were still sitting at the small kitchen table that could barely seat two people. “It’s open,” you said, loudly. 

From the sounds you could hear him open and close the door, take off his shoes and leave his bag in the hallway. When he finally came into your view, you couldn’t help but smile. Strange how that worked, considering you had almost cried half an hour ago. Food really worked miracles sometimes. But then again he had always had that kind of effect on you, making you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s not very safe of you,” he had said but he was already smiling, “having your door unlocked.”

“Hey you, fancy seeing you here.”

There was a warm feeling curling itself around your ribcage at the look at him, “hey yourself. I left it open because I knew you were coming over, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he conceded, “did you watch the game yesterday?”

“‘Course I did,” you said, eyes following him as he took a glass from the cabinets and filled it up. There was something intimate about that, the ease he carried himself with, him knowing where to find your glassware and feeling comfortable enough to do so while carrying on with the conversation. 

There was something in you that ached at the feeling, at having someone that comes home to you. At having someone that just feels that comfortable with you, that you live your life alongside with. 

It’s not like you were lonely, you had wonderful flatmates and good friends, but there was just something different about this feeling, about this longing. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, inexplicable as always.

“Good, otherwise I would have felt stupid after my goal.”

You had seen the new ritual he did sometimes that he had been asked about by the media sometimes. He had done it a few times now, more often over this past year. He was approached by his teammates first, but then he was still for a bit, putting his hand on his chest and raising it up after, usually waving once. The warmth that had seeped into your bones crept up to your face, “you did that for me?”

The one time he talked to an interviewer about it, he had said it was a new good luck charm he was trying out.

Because of the small table the two of you sat close and his knee kept bumping into yours, but you hardly paid it any mind. It was comforting, having him here, this close in the low light of the kitchen, cradling one of your glasses in his hands. 

Admitting something he hadn’t told anyone else.

“Yeah, of course, had to show my appreciation for my number one fan somehow.”

You laughed a little, “you are such an idiot.”

The smile he gave you in return crinkled up the skin at the corner of his eyes and you wanted to trace that fold with your thumb. What were you even thinking? “I know.”

So you just swatted his shoulder and got up to wash your dish. “Did you guys go out and celebrate?”

Jack turned in his seat, his body facing your back from where he was still sitting at the table, “yeah. It was a really small bar in the middle of nowhere, Nico said he didn’t want to be recognised, despite the win.”

You hummed in response. The constant scrutiny must have been affecting them all after these past few games. “Cool. Did it actually work or,” you trailed off, not really sure how to finish your question. 

“Sort of, I mean we took a few pictures when we came in but it was a lot better than usual.”

“I’m glad then,” you said and turned back around to face him, “I’m glad nothing too exciting happened.”

At the word exciting his expression morphed into something odd. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he answered but he wasn’t meeting your eyes anymore. 

“You can tell me, you know you can,” you reminded him, now getting closer to him again. You were usually able to get out every last secret of his if you just asked the right questions. 

“I know,” he assured you, now pulling you a little closer by your hip and resting his hand there. He had always been touchy like that, arms slung over your shoulders or around your waist, hands holding your wrist to pull you through crowds, thumbs circling your ankle when you rested your legs in his lap. 

“But it’s really nothing, I just got a little drunk,” he assured you, but you didn’t really buy it. 

Still, you had no real reason to press, knowing that it just made him close up further. He would end up telling you, just not now. “Okay.”

The two of you went back to your room soon after, deciding to watch a movie. You didn’t tell him that you were really, genuinely tired, because you knew he could tell. He always could, somehow, even if you yourself weren’t all that aware of it. Funny how that worked.

You sat down first and then patted the spot next to you on the bed, but for a split second you saw him hesitate. That hurt, just a bit because you had thought that the two of you were close enough for it to not matter anymore. 

Still, he leaned against the headboard next to you, his shoulder softly knocking against yours and your worries disappeared at that. You must have imagined it.

“Any preferences?”

“Ratatouille,” you said immediately, not even knowing where that request came from. 

He smiled, “I do like a girl that knows what she wants.”

For some reason you blushed at that, at the barely even there implication of being his. You really were going insane today. “Is that okay for you?”

“Sure,” he said, “let's watch the rat be a better cook than the two of us combined.”

You typed the website and clicked play on your screen and settled your laptop down between the two of you, one knee on each side of the bottom of it. 

You were suddenly keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even own a tv, that you were watching a movie from your laptop when he could be at home, watching it on a screen that was at least double the size of this.

It was a stupid thought, so you brushed it off. He was a professional athlete, you were a college student. There was something fundamentally different about your current lives, as intertwined as they were. 

The movie started soon after, so you pushed all of that to the back of your mind. At first the two of you ran a semi-steady commentary about what was going on but soon after you were both too engrossed in the story to think about anything fun to say. 

When a sharp sound came from the screen you realised that you had your eyes closed. Sleepily you blinked your eyes open again. It must have been for a few minutes, at least because you weren't sure what was going on anymore. 

“Tired?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

You let your forehead fall against his shoulder, this time on purpose. It was a welcome contrast to a few hours ago when you did the same thing against your front door. His shoulder was softer because of his sweatshirt and he smelled nice. Like the shampoo he used, like his laundry detergent. You wondered when that smell had become intrinsically his and not someone else's' like a friend of yours that used the same deodorant. 

You kind of wanted to drown in it, but you held yourself afloat anyway. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. The two of you weren’t like that.

“Had a hard day at work,” you mumbled, a little more tired now than you’d been just moments ago. His presence did that to you, calmed you down when you didn’t even know you were high to begin with. 

He lowered your shoulder a bit which made it more comfortable for you to rest your head on it. “You could have said no, you know that, right?”

But you had wanted to see him once you had seen his message. “I know.”

“Good,” he answered, as if it was as simple as that and remained quiet after that. 

You tried to turn your focus back to the movie, you really did, but before you knew it your eyelids were drooping again. 

Then you were woken up again, this time by Jack. 

The movie must have finished in the meantime because he had moved his arm, closing your laptop. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, trying to form a coherent thought but the only thing on your mind was the warmth of him next to you, the dream that just barely slipped out of your grasp. 

“Sorry,” you said.

He turned to you, surprised. “What for? If anything I should apologise, I kept watching even when you were tired.”

“You know I don't mind that,” you said. “I just wasn’t very good company today. Sorry.”

Jack knocked his shoulder against you with a little more purpose so you  turned to him. “Nope, none of that. I don’t mind, I got to see you, which is all I wanted anyway.”

How could he just say something like that? As if words like these didn’t bore themselves under your skin, living there forever, etching themselves into the white of your bones.

This casually, as if it didn’t just make your heart flutter the same way it did when you were eighteen, back when you had loved him. Still, in your barely illuminated room, late at night you let yourself linger. Let yourself pretend that his words held meaning. 

Let yourself pretend that the two of you were different.

You thought about the thousands of times you must have seen him just like this, in the dark, looking back at you. 

It was a weird memory that came to you, just then.

Back when the two of you had first met you had been crushing hard. It wasn’t really surprising, now looking back. You had never really gotten a lot of attention by boys growing up, so when he went out of his way to talk to you, you really had no choice but to fall for him. 

Liking him had become addicting. 

You could still remember the moment you thought he might like you back and the very same moment you knew it wasn’t, probably ever, going to work out between the two of you.

It was at a party, after you had just graduated. You had just come out of the bathroom, alone because your friend was finally, finally talking to the guy she liked. 

Then you picked up a friend’s voice somewhere down the corner, most likely from the kitchen. “C’mon your turn now. Who are you crushing on,” Aaron had said. They must still be playing a weird mixture of truth or dare and some other game you had already forgotten the name of.

Your mind immediately went to Jack, the way his hand had brushed yours when he had gotten you a drink earlier that night. 

“I don't?” Jack answered, slightly laughing, but there was an air of unease in his voice that you couldn’t help but notice. 

“C’mon, Jack don’t be like that,” someone else interjected, and suddenly you were a lot more invested in the conversation than just a moment ago. It was always like that when it was about him. 

“There are always so many girls throwing themselves at you, surely you want one of them,” you could hear the other guy’s jealousy from miles away but you weren’t sure if the others picked up on it too. 

“I’m serious, I barely have time for my friends already, let alone a girlfriend.” Jack said and there was this tiny spark of hope rising in your chest. Maybe you could change that. Maybe you could be the exception. 

“True,” Aaron agreed calmer than usual. You thought he might be noticing the tension waving off of the other guy. 

“There is no shame in admitting it,” the other guy doubled down, “what about that one girl? Short, brunette, on the track and field club.”

Oh god, he was describing your friend, the one you had just left with her crush. “Nah, wait I think she has a boyfriend, but what about her friend, the one that Kevin hangs out with.”

You. Shit, he was talking about you. Did you really want to hear Jack’s response? What if he said he didn’t like you? But what if he did?

“She is my friend too, you know,” Jack said, “but she is pretty, I guess.”

He guesses? That kind of really stung. You knew that there was nothing all that memorable about you, but it’s not like you were ugly. A thousand different insecurities that you thought you had worked through rose to the surface and you didn’t have the strength to push them back down. 

You had to escape, now, without being noticed and without listening to anything more. Still, your ear couldn’t help but pick up on the rest even as you pushed past that guy that sat behind you in math.

“Jack, don’t be like that,” the other guy insisted, “don’t you want to go up to her and just fuck her? I mean her ass-”

Humiliation. For some reason you felt humiliated and violated. You knew about locker room talk, but you had never wanted to be part of it. Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes and suddenly you could feel every single person that had touched any part of you today, suddenly questioning if it really was accidental. 

You had to get out, now. The static in your ear was loud and the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet seemed to turn it up even more. You had run away, texting the friend you came with some kind of bullshit excuse for leaving. 

The asphalt outside on the sidewalk was cold, but you sat down on it anyway. You just wanted to cry. Everything seemed so overwhelming and important all at once and you had no idea how to deal with all of it. 

Soon you were leaving high school for good, your friends were moving all across the country, you were so fucking lonely and the guy you had been crushing on for a better part of a year didn’t even think that you were worthy to look at. 

You drew your legs closer to your body and folded yourself up as much as possible. Growing up seemed scary all of a sudden. There was that one Lorde lyric that said that too, that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Suddenly people were streaming out of the house, all at once. You wiped your tears, looking up at what was happening. In the stream of people you couldn’t make out any of your friends.

Then you heard your name being called. It was Kevin, still standing at his door. He held Jack at the others shirt collar, as if he was holding up a particularly unruly cat that had gotten in trouble again. 

Your eyes must not have been red because when you came closer neither boy commented on it. “Get him home,” Kevin said and dumped a heap of Jack right in front of you. 

Jack glared back at where Kevin disappeared back into the house, eyes murderous. You had never really seen him act like that, especially to a friend. But then again how well did you really know him?

A beat of silence. You really wondered what on earth had happened for the party to just end. You shifted your weight on your feet. “Do you have a car?” you asked eventually. 

Jack brushed past you, “yeah. I’ll drive you home, didn’t drink anything.”

You followed him, but on the short walk back to his car neither of you said anything. 

The stereo remained off all the way back to your place. After you had stopped looking at him to try and figure out what had him in this bad of a mood, you looked outside. The neighbourhood was so familiar, and the horribly sad feeling from earlier came up again. 

You really needed some kind of distraction. “Thank you for driving me home.”

For a second he remained quiet and you really thought you were going to be ignored. He had always had a bit of a dramatic streak at times. “Of course.”

His expression remained scarily blank. “Can I ask what happened with Kevin?”

“Nothing,” he said, his gaze staring firmly ahead. Then, “I don’t like his friends.”

What kind of response was that? “Okay,” you tried, carefully, “then why did you come?”

“I didn’t know I didn’t like them before tonight,” he said. 

Then you looked at the way his hands were gripping the wheel, specifically at his knuckles. Wait- “did you punch one of them?”

He laughed, and the sound bounced off the small enclosure and some kind of happy feeling made your heart swell, even though you had been apprehensive about him just moments ago.

It was a lot longer than your comment had warranted. You really were a bit concerned about him. Should he be driving if he acted like this? “I might have.”

Before you could ask why, because you had never seen him actually punch anyone, he continued, “in my defense, he started it.”

“That’s a shitty defense,” you said, “that just means you have to be the one to take a step back first.”

He only shook his head in response but you were happy he was back to acting like that Jack you knew. “You would have punched him too, I just know it.”

“Sure,” you replied. You had never punched a person because you didn’t like them and you didn’t think you’d start anytime soon. 

“Trust me, you would have,” he said and left it at that. 

The two of you arrived at your place soon after, so you thanked him and left. 

The rest of the summer between highschool and college was spent getting over him, which you eventually succeeded at when he introduced his now ex-girlfriend to you and your friends. 

In college you went out on a few dates, but none of them ended up going anywhere. That was fine to you, because it just meant that you were prioritising other things now, like your studies and your friends. 

There wasn’t even anything all that similar between that memory and your current situation, but you drew the comparison anyway. His jaw was more refined now, his hair longer and his eyes seemed different now, a bit more mature maybe. Or maybe just a bit more tired. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

It must have been a bit strange, you just looking at him. “You,” you replied honestly. “Do you remember that one party, way back, after high school where you punched someone?”

He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, his throat exposed. Your gaze lingered there for a bit before returning to his face. Some kind of feeling almost bubbled to the surface at the sound and the matching sight.

“I do.”

“I never actually figured why you did that.” When his gaze remained firmly on your ceiling, you continued, “I feel like now enough time has passed for you to admit why.”

He smiled a bit. “There was this other guy, right? The one I punched, I mean.”

You nodded. 

“He was being a real dick about one of my friends, and when he didn’t stop talking about her I just kinda wanted him to shut up. Moved before thinking about it.”

“Asshole,” you commented, not about Jack. 

“Right?” he turned his head so that he looked back down to you, “after that one punch I came back to myself but before I knew it Kevin had dragged me out by my collar, shouting that everyone had to go.”

“He must have wanted to avoid a full on fight,” you said. 

“For sure, can’t even blame him.” With a mischievous gleam in his eyes he said, “but it felt really good to finally shut him up.”

You laughed, thinking that the entire situation was a lot more dramatic than it really had any reason to be. The laugh turned to a yawn by the end. 

“I should leave,” he said but you had the weird urge to ask him to stay. 

“Sorry, I’m a lot more tired than I thought,” you said instead.

“Don’t apologise for that,” he said, getting up. He ended up offering you a hand to help you get up as well even though you really didn't need it. You took it anyway. 

He picked up the bag that he had left at the door, opened it and turned to you. “I had fun.”

You smiled, “me too.”

“Good,” he offered you a smile in return. You saw his hand reach out and stop for just a second, but before you could ask him about it, he held it against your temple and leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. He lingered in your orbit for a bit longer than the duration of the kiss, just hovering above you. 

“See you soon,” he said, waving, and you replied the same. Then you closed your door and locked it. 

You didn’t need to hold your hand against your cheek to feel it burn. What was that? He had never done that before. He had never done anything like that before, ever.

You stumbled to your bathroom, and went through the motions of brushing your teeth and going on the toilet. When you finally crawled under your sheets, you let yourself sink down into them. 

Still, you were too tired to properly dissect the entire interaction so instead you closed your eyes. You drifted to sleep, your mind focusing on the tips of his ears that had seemed a bit flushed when he closed the door behind himself. 

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @hughescomplex @lupinslibraries @megaluke @cixrosie (send me an ask to be added!)

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #nhl #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #ame writes #jhgtfil

[harrysonlylover]

Karma Rules (Mechanic Harry Part 6)

Summary: A phone call from Niall and its aftermath changes your perspective. Can a fairytale be fixed?

Warnings: alcoholism, drunk harry, over drinking, unhealthy coping, miscommunication, angst, mentions of alcohol abuse, hangover.

Please do not read if these trigger you.

Wc: 8k

A/n: Please keep in mind that this is just fan-fiction and some bits about the hangover may not be 100% true, as every individual is different than the other and deals with it in an another way.

Rereading part 5 is good for refreshing your mind!

This is also the final part!

Part 5

When it came to receiving good and bad news, people generally preferred getting the bad news first so that the good ones would soothe them. You followed that preference as well, but you didn’t always have a choice.

Not when you moved away from home, not when your car broke down, not when you discovered the truth about your “job”.

And certainly not right now.

The phone was still pressed to your ear, Niall’s voice was coming out muffled and incoherent. Your heart was banging against your ribcage, and still, the blood barely reached your other organs. You couldn’t move, or put two and two together. Not even ask him what happened.

The room was suddenly dark despite the lit light bulbs in every corner, the clock necklace that you didn’t even get to thank Harry for was ticking around your neck. It was the only sound you could hear as if it was torturing you on purpose.

Tick tock.

A reminder that whatever happened to Harry was your fault. Maybe if you had stayed—

It wasn’t an ideal timing for your brain to taunt you and make you feel pathetic. Niall’s voice was calling for you, asking if you were listening but you were simply trying to pull yourself back to the present.

Your body fell against the sofa, and you dug your nails into the cushions. The clock was still piercing your ears because you could grab it right now and reverse it but you won’t go back in time to change whatever had happened.

What did he get himself into?

“Are you listening to me?” Niall’s panicked voice urged you to focus. You were obliged to ignore the nausea and the guilt your brain was throwing already. Because that’s how things went every time, you only needed a simple situation for your brain to torture you.

“Can you repeat what you said?” Your throat was as dry as the desert. You thought about standing up and getting a glass of water, but you’re not sure if your hands would be able to hold it.

“It’s Harry! He’s fucking drunk—way too drunk. He doesn’t drink Y/n, he hates alcohol.” His tone told you all you needed to know. It pained Niall to say it like he was on the verge of tears.

Was he talking about the same Harry that drank herbal teas and scolded your food choices? You were somewhat worried that he might have gotten into a car accident at a race, but he didn’t. So why does this feel worse?

“I—what?” It wasn’t the best you could say in a conversation like this, but it was better than the radio silence.

“Listen, he’s in a really bad state. He’s lucky that he’s a bit conscious.” He sighed, clearly worried about his friend.

It was nearly nine, not so late in the evening. For how long was he drinking to get to this state? You never saw him drink nor did he open the subject. Your legs moved before you processed what you were doing.

“I’m coming.” You spoke as you headed toward your bedroom.

“I didn’t want to stress you, and I know you’re wondering why I chose to call you but he’s been mumbling things about you.” You stopped in your tracks at his last sentence, your fingers placed at the light switch, too numb to move.

“What did he say?” You whispered in a shaky voice.

“I—don’t know, it was all weird and—“ His voice was cut off as his attention turned to Harry. He mentioned some things about drinking water and lying back. The last thing you expected was for Harry to speak.

“Did ya know that she smells like strawberries?” It took him longer to say the sentence than normal. It came out slurred with hiccups, and a small laugh.

“Shit—drink water H.” You could hear Niall pouring him a water cup.

“Sweeettt. Y/n is sweet.” Niall didn’t have to answer your previous question, you were witnessing it yourself.

It is said that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and that scared you more than it comforted you. Niall was trying to soothe Harry, and get him to have that cup of water but to no avail.

“I’m not nice. She deserves nice.” His words weren’t as coherent but you caught some stuff through the speaker as you put on a random jumper and sweatpants.

“I’m coming Niall.”

“You don’t have to—I’m here.” He moved away from Harry whose voice got distant but was still mumbling stuff.

“No, I’ll be there shortly.” You hung up before he could object.

It would take you around 15 minutes on your bike, normally you avoided going out when it was dark but you didn’t have any rational thoughts swimming in your head.

Your mind was consumed by him the entire road. Why would he do that? Just because you left? But again—you were no one to him. Just an employee. So why did he mention you and blurt out weird stuff?

He might have kissed you and let down his guard a couple of times but that didn’t mean anything, right?

It’s surely not a big deal, everyone probably knew that your hair smelled like strawberries, that you’re sweet, and deserved someone nice. Or did they not?

You had nothing in mind on what to expect, you didn’t even know what you were planning to do—but you weren’t going to sit around at home while he was in this state.

All the overthinking kept you busy until you reached his house. The little yellow home that reminded you of warmth, is now radiating coldness. You dreaded going inside, fearing what would be awaiting you.

Was it your fault? Did that mean that you mattered to him?

You got off your bike, grabbed your bag, and headed slowly towards the front door. Niall must have left the door slightly open for you, but before entering—something jumped at your legs.

You looked down to see an antsy Snowbun circling around your feet.

“What are you doing out here?” Per your knowledge, he should be asleep in his small bed by now. You picked him up and cradled him in your hands.

“Are you running away from Harry or Niall?” The latter was his sworn enemy. Snowy replied by twitching his ears, earning a smile from you.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” You scratched the top of his head before turning the doorknob and entering.

The once vibrant house filled with music sounding from the record player, and the smell of home-cooked meals was now dull and cold. It could be the open windows allowing the night breeze to sneak in, or the absence of Harry’s energy.

Everything was a mess.

The living room was untidy, and there were broken shards of glass around the floor with the smell of whiskey lingering in the air.

It wasn’t necessarily dirty, but it somewhat reflected Harry’s state, as his house could mimic his inner feelings. Snow Bun jumped out of your hand and headed towards his bed in the corner.

For a hot minute, you thought that Niall left considering how empty the house felt, until you heard his voice coming from Harry’s room.

“Hey—just lay here.” Niall seemed like he was trying to convince Harry to rest. You sneaked a glance inside the room, only to find Harry attempting to get up and walk—towards you.

“Not dreaming.” He let out a small laugh upon seeing you.

Niall sent you a soft smile before directing his attention back to Harry.

You have never seen him in such a state. His face looked like he had aged a hundred years, his eyes were tired and hollow, and he was barely conscious.

You stood motionless, trying to process his situation, what he had done and most importantly why.

You wanted to step forward and assist Niall who was lifting him to the bed, but your body was stuck in its place. You have seen your fair share of situations and were always unaffected, but Harry had an unusual effect on you, and maybe—you did too.

“Shortcake.” He hiccuped again, accepting the cup of water this time. He took two sips only and rested his head against the headboard.

You were aware of his direct stares, but you didn’t speak or move. You bit your nails as Niall tucked him under the duvet. He was slowly dozing off by the minute, with less mumbling that you didn’t quite catch.

The room went silent except for the sound of crickets coming from the window. You stole a glance at Harry who sounded so relaxed while sleeping despite his disturbed state.

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sure that he slept, at least he would get some rest.

“How much did he drink?” You whispered to Niall with a scratchy voice.

“The whole fucking bottle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned for you to leave the room.

You closed the bedroom door and followed him into the living room. He began picking up the shards of glass, so you kneeled to help him.

“How did you know that he was drunk?” Niall was visibly upset with what went down, he was his close friend after all.

“I didn’t… I just happened to pass by. I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He shook his head in disbelief, so you assumed that whatever this was, it wasn’t common.

You picked up the remaining pieces and disposed of them in a bag. You arranged the rest of the living room silently with Niall, but the silence was just too loud.

“Niall?” He turned his head to you.

“Yeah?”

“Most people get drunk—like it’s not right but it happens. Why did you freak out?” Your curiosity was getting the best out of you. You weren’t dismissing Harry’s state—it just didn’t make sense.

Niall dropped the broom to the ground and took a seat on the couch.

“Harry has had a rough past y’know? It wasn’t ideal.” You sat down as well, giving him your attention.

“He had an abusive alcoholic father. It’s not my place to say much, but it left an impact on him.” He spoke as if Harry was his biological brother. It was clear that he cared for him deeply.

You swallowed down your throat upon Niall’s confession. He hated alcohol. It must have reminded him of darker days. He barely opened up about his childhood to you, but many things clicked for you.

“I’m sorry that I troubled you. I was just shocked because he never got drunk, let alone drank in the first place.” He clasped his hands together and spoke with sorrow.

“He was in the worst state ever. I couldn’t understand why he kept talking about you.” He swiped his hand through his hair and gulped down a cup of water.

“What did he say?” Your voice was timid and small like you were dreading to know the truth. It may deny or confirm something.

“Stuff about you being an angel, that he messed up?” He shook his head, trying to remember some details.

“Also that you were too delicate or something.” He scrunched his face at his lack of memory, unaware of your expression.

Is that what Harry thought of you? It was so overwhelming to find out all of this within a short time frame when his actions did not reflect what Niall was saying.

You didn’t doubt that Harry was a good man, not at all. But to hear these words so casually, as if they weren’t the sweetest things you have been told—

“Sorry—I didn’t know he had feelings for you.” Niall broke the silence.

“Feelings?” You questioned, attempting to control the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I mean—the way he spoke about you…it was emotional. I called you because I thought he’d need you.” He scratched the top of his head, rethinking what he had done.

“It might have been something destructive because he never drank—“ He didn’t complete his sentence, and stared at the wall instead.

He must have caught on to your cluelessness and took a step back. You were picking at your nails with your head lowered down. Everything hit you like a rollercoaster and you needed space.

“You don’t have to stay Niall. I can manage.” You assured him.

“I can stay, I don’t mind.”

“You’ve done a lot already. You’re a good friend.” You tipped him a smile and he understood the cue.

“If you need anything, just call me.” He stood up and walked towards the door, before giving you one last glance and leaving.

Conveniently, Snow Bun ran in your direction as soon as Niall was out of the door. The little bunny jumped on your lap and got himself all cozy.

You instinctively patted his head and cradled him. A few tears fell down your cheeks against your will. You pushed back everything you were thinking of and walked to the refrigerator.

“Are you hungry? Harry probably couldn’t feed you.” Just the thought itself made you incredibly sad for no reason. Perhaps, it’s the fact that underneath it all, Harry was just a guy who loved his privacy and spent time with his bunny.

The more you recalled nice gestures that he did, the more tears fell. You weren’t sobbing, but everything was hitting you all at once. Whatever you processed this evening was hard to consume, even in small doses.

Snow Bun immediately began nibbling at the strawberry you offered him. You couldn’t help but recall when Harry fed him in front of you, it was a happier night.

You’re glad that he feels safe to take food from you. Was he able to sense Harry’s mood?

You offered him another strawberry which he ate comfortably like a baby. You placed two more for him in his bowl and cleaned up around the house to pass the time.

There wasn’t much to do, a few dirty pans, messy pillows and blankets all over the place, and a bit of Snowy’s dry food that fell out of his plate.

You opened more windows and lit a candle to allow the whiskey smell to fade. Thankfully, the broken glass was the first thing you and Niall cleaned up—but you were still skeptical about it.

You picked up the broom that Niall dropped earlier and cleaned under the couch to make sure that there was no glass left.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest upon wondering how it shattered. Did he lose his balance and drop it? Or did he do it out of frustration?

Your train of thought was interrupted when the broom collided with something. You could feel that it wasn’t glass, so you pulled it in your direction and reached your hand under the couch to grasp it.

It was a notebook.

It was already open, and your eyes landed on what was written. You flinched, feeling disrespectful for taking a glance despite not helping it. You wouldn’t want someone to look through your journal—but your eyes were glued to the words.

A few lines were scribbled at the top of the page including your name with Harry’s handwriting that you memorized so well. Yet, these lines were blurred out due to the scribbling—but you could make out the word ‘apricity’.

Underneath them were the clear unscratched lines that made you let out a silent gasp.

Starry haze, crystal ball

Somehow, you’ve become some paranoia

Just like a nepenthe

But your gift is wasted on me

You allowed your fingers to touch the paper, to make sure that this was real and that you weren’t hallucinating.

You quickly moved on to the lines under them and your knees nearly buckled.

I was thinking about who you are

Your delicate point of view, I

Was thinking about you

The last line ended on a whim and was more of a question than a sentence.

Just you?

You closed the notebook and threw it on the couch like it was poison. You were breathing heavily and your legs carried you straight to the refrigerator for the cup of water you’ve needed since Niall called.

You gulped down two cups frantically as if it would help you process or erase what you read.

Finding out that Harry most likely drank because of you, and might have had feelings for you was enough. But to see that he wrote lyrics about you?

Maybe it was scary because it was a concrete confirmation. It shut down the overthinking and the endless questions just with a glance at a piece of paper.

The suffocation was threatening to close up your chest, not caring about the soft night breeze and the lit candle that smelled like Harry.

It seemed as if his secrets were unfolding with any action that you took. There’s only so much you could handle in one night, so you laid down on the couch. You will sleep here, you won’t leave him alone.

You covered yourself with a blanket and were soon joined by Snow Bun who made himself comfortable next to you.

You contemplated grabbing a book from your bag but even that doesn’t seem to work anymore.

You wondered what could soothe a person if not books.

Still, there wasn’t much you could do. It was close to eleven and you would soon fall asleep—but until then your mind would get the chance to torment you.

What will you do when he wakes up? Will you have the courage to ask him about everything? Does he even want you around?

These questions and many more went through your head as you shifted on the couch. Though, that seemed to annoy Snowy who was trying to sleep, unaware of all the troubles.

Being a bunny is quite easy. ——————————————————

Harry struggled to open his eyes. His brain didn’t aid him and was not functioning properly, the same way car engines fail to roar. A tiny grunt left his lips, he was attempting to regain his consciousness, despite being overwhelmed.

A sharp pain stemmed from his head, the one people get from being beaten with a bat. He felt out of place as if he switched bodies with a completely different person who neglected themselves.

His bones and muscles didn’t ache—but the fatigue was embedded in all of his atoms.

Another grunt was elicited, followed by a hiss. The morning sun sneaked through the window, casting its light on his tired figure. It burned his eyes and worsened the pounding headache he felt.

His mouth was dry like a man who hadn’t taken a sip in days, he could feel it with every grunt as he swallowed down his throat in an attempt to hydrate his system.

“What the—“ He mumbled, forcing his eyes to open again as he collected the energy to raise his hand and shield his face from the sun.

The neurons in his brain worked hard to transmit signals. He needed just one memory to recall—a reason even to understand what led him to this state.

He buried his face in the pillow, relieving himself from the sting of the morning light. He groaned as the headache became unbearable.

What did he do last night?

The few cells that got to work urged him to connect things and conclude a reason—the headache, fatigue, and memory loss all pointed towards the unthinkable.

But no, he wouldn’t. Right?

He possessed great self-control, confided his sister in when he felt suffocated, and would never allow himself to resort to a destructive outlet.

No matter how torn he felt, how maimed and beaten his heart was—he prided himself in needing no one and repressing his sadness.

Right?

His muscles worked together to lift his body slowly. He supported himself on the mattress with his hands and observed his surroundings with squinted eyes.

Everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. The bedroom was tidy and neat, the way he always maintained it.

Yet, his attire had him confused. He never went to sleep with his work clothes, he either slept shirtless or with a clean tank top.

He couldn’t help but bring his hand to his temple. The pain was unbearable, flashing like thunder and echoing in his skull.

Attempting to piece some bits of information together was a tough task, let alone when he couldn’t quite remember whatever went down the previous day.

His senses gave him a push until his brain connected some dots and realized what his mouth felt like besides dryness.

It was Whiskey.

“No—“ It would be a reasonable justification. His body warned him when he first opened his eyes, but he was in denial.

Fatigue, muscle aches, headache, thirst, and in his case— feeling like absolute shit.

“What did I do?” He groaned, in response to his pain and stupidness.

He’s had his fair share of atrocious headaches and fatigue, yet he was never subjected to immense emotional maim that led him to this state. Not even in his younger years. He vowed to never touch a bottle in his life. He had a few beers as a teenager, but that was the extent.

He never wished to become a spitting image of his sperm donor or inflict harm upon others using alcohol.

Something that he must have done.

Recalling the cause of his ache was effortless; not because of its intensity or his functioning memory. But because he simply could never push someone like you out of his mind, even when he was in a foggy state.

“Y/n.” He whispered under his breath.

He was in shambles upon reading your letter. He needed an outlet to empty his pain. A pain that he inflicted upon himself and you.

It was an internal battle; treating you like shit to push you away, when all he wanted was to hold you and kiss your soft lips.

How could he even dare to have you? The most delicate being he ever met. You were an angel that fell on earth accidentally. Maybe god was searching for you, but Harry wanted you selfishly to himself.

He didn’t deserve you, well no one did actually—but a boy could dream.

Your soft aura and charming personality would never fit in a million years with his dark heart and destructive thoughts. You were so delicate that he feared breaking you, and if that ever happened, he’d never forgive himself.

He was a weak man when it came to you. Your contagious smile, books, warm personality, and kind manners. Love was never on his agenda, he didn’t even have any vision for his future. Nothing but his career maybe, but of course, you’d tip his scales over.

You became his dream, someone that he wished he could have. He didn’t realize that his heart was betraying him, leading the tide against his rational thoughts.

In some way, he was a prisoner of your presence. You simply had to walk inside the room he was in, and all his problems would evaporate.

Even when he first met you, despite his cold tone and expression, he was deeply enamored by you. He never wanted to find out information about a person this bad, he needed to know who you were.

He didn’t consider himself a dedicated reader, sometimes a book here and there but—a philosophy he once read stuck with him.

The philosophy of Descartes, his dualism, and the notion of mind and body being distinct, yet intimately related. It was logical to him to a certain extent but as of late, Harry created his philosophy.

The mind and body were foes; often joining together to set up a scheme. This scheme was to torture Harry. His body belonged near you, but his heart kept him up at night. They were allies for once, simply to dismantle his sanity and imprint invisible bruises on his body.

And so they managed to trap him, render him a fool in front of you, and destroy any small chance he might have had.

He gathered all the energy left in his fatigued body and got up from his warm bed. The sun’s rays burned his eyes yet embraced his skin lovingly.

He wondered why Snow Bun wasn’t next to him, it was against his habit but maybe he was just roaming around the planted strawberries again.

The first thing up was brushing his teeth, getting rid of the awful smell was essential. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do this again.

The sight of his tired face in the mirror had him double checking. When did it get so unbearable?

For most people, this was barely an issue—but for Harry, it tipped his life upside down.

He doesn’t go well with emotions, communication or even figuring out what the other person wants.

“Shit.” He splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a clean cloth and drying it.

He would need a while to feel better again, to accept what had happened, and avoid leading himself to that state.

He had a quick cold shower to give himself the illusion of being clean, even when his system wasn’t. The fresh set of clothes and cologne elevated his mood, and the sting of the water helped with his headache.

He needed a nutritious meal despite the nausea bubbling in his stomach. Besides, where the hell was Snowy?

Harry reached for the doorknob as wet droplets from his hair fell on the ground. He barely advanced a few footsteps before stopping in his tracks.

He had an inkling that his feelings toward you, and the letter you left influenced his actions last night. But, seeing you asleep on his sofa with his bunny cuddled to your chest was not on his list.

He stood in the doorway with barely a few breaths coming in and out of his nose. As if a time traveler somehow arrived at this moment and froze his body.

Could he still be dreaming?

He wasn’t worthy of your presence, not even in his dreams.

He didn’t even deserve the wasted sun rays that hugged him earlier. They should’ve poured their focus on you, just like they were doing this instant. Your skin was covered with gold, somehow glistening more than any other human being. This is how an angel sleeps, he thought.

He was so jealous of the sun, envious even. It got to kiss every inch of your skin and keep you warm, unlike him.

The golden color stretched to your perfect hair, shut eyelids, and soft raspberry mouth. Your chest rose slowly, even your breathing was delicate.

He didn’t blame Snow Bun for liking you one bit, even a bunny knew how pure you were.

He didn’t mean to stare like a creep, but funnily enough, his pet blew his cover. Snowy awoke from his peaceful sleep and disrupted you in the process.

You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the moving bunny who had enough sleep. It seemed like you did too as your body felt satisfied with the hours you rested during.

The room was bathed in sunlight and warmth, and surprisingly to your right—was Harry standing motionless.

“Harry! You’re up.” Your legs moved before your brain processed anything. You were up on your feet in no time, facing a confused yet tired Harry.

“H—hi.” He swallowed down his throat.

“How are you feeling?” Your hair was all over the place and you couldn’t tell what your face looked like, but you had to check up on him.

The night went by quickly, and the next thing you knew, he was standing next to you, hopefully sober.

“Pretty shit.” He pressed his lips together, ignoring Snowy’s thumbing on the floor.

For an unknown reason, his response elicited a tiny giggle out of your lips. One that eased his headache.

“I—“

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You beat him, feeling way too curious.

You had a plethora of things to say and discuss, stuff you should’ve said long ago.

“Just a bit. Not the entire picture.” He bit on his tongue, feeling the blood drain from his body.

Standing in front of you, seeing you, and hearing a question that was brought up yesterday triggered a sudden flashback.

How Niall dragged him to bed as you stared at him with fear and worry.

So he fucked up again.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out before you managed a response.

“What for? You barely remember what happened.” You shrugged.

“Everything.” He averted his gaze downward in shame.

It was out of a movie scene, two individuals facing each other in a sunlit room, way too stuck in their heads to see right what’s in front of them.

This moment was ageless. Your torn expression and his sorrowful face. Your sympathy and his regret. A powerful duo indeed.

Only in instants like these was silence positively uncomfortable. The silent eye contact back and forth, uncaring for the ticks of the clock, or what lies behind the eyes. The invitation to open your hearts broadly for one another, without shame or hesitation. Just two young beings diving into each other’s souls, passing control over to their bodies and hearts; even if they betrayed them.

He offered you an immense amount of vulnerability that he’s never given to anyone, simply by eye contact.

As if your souls had a secret language that they used.

“I—“

“Well—“

You spoke at the same time before stopping in shock.

“You speak first.”

“No. You talked first.”

He gestured for you to speak, and you swore you have never seen him this polite and held back.

“Hmm. I know this isn’t an ideal timing and that it’s quite rough for you right now. But how about breakfast and a mature conversation?” You asked with your bottom lip hidden between your teeth.

“I’d love that.” He nodded with a weak smile. The only one you managed to get from him for what felt like ages.

You refreshed in the bathroom while Harry prepared breakfast. It was similar to when he cooked you lunch. The same aroma drifted in the air with the sound of the oil sizzling and the same warmth that radiated from the house.

But this time, it was more awkward knowing that a conversation awaits. What were you supposed to say, and should you take the initiative of starting small talk?

You washed your face with water for the second time, dreading the return to the kitchen. You offered to cook since you knew he wasn’t feeling well, but he insisted saying ‘It’s the least he could do’.

Snowy managed to follow you to the bathroom (after he had his breakfast), and you smiled at his excited thumping.

“Let’s go.” You cradled him and returned to where Harry was using his chef skills.

He looked up the moment you walked in, offering you a gentle smile. Your heart ached at his gesture for no reason.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You cleared your throat as you sat on a stool near the counter.

“Somewhat…My headache is a bit better.” He scratched his head, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, moving your attention to Snowy who was clueless and happy in your lap.

“I remembered some stuff.” He mumbled rather quickly as he flipped chocolate chip pancakes.

“Oh?” It was a good sign because you didn’t know how to tell him that he randomly mumbled stuff about you.

“Um, yeah…” He remained silent for a few seconds and checked in on the delicious scrambled eggs he was preparing.

“I’m sorry you had to see that last night.” His words reeked of shame and guilt. There was a sense of vulnerability in what went down, and for a man like him, it would be a hard pill to swallow. After all, someone else had seen his weakness.

“Harry, I—“

“No, just let me say a few things.” You hadn’t expected him to begin talking now. But, it seemed that you were too busy admiring his tired face to notice the plate he slid in front of you.

“Eat please.” He gestured to your plate with concern when he was the one who should be fuelling his body.

“You need it more.” You argued, with signs of worry flashing over your face.

Sweet sweet shortcake, Harry thought. Always putting others before you.

The look of determination on your face was evident. Besides, could he ever say no to you?

“Look, I’m eating.” He grabbed a pancake from his dish and took a bite.

You swallowed thickly and joined him in taking small bites of food. He felt more full just by watching you eat contently. He tried to ignore the whirling thoughts in his brain, whether or not you had dinner last night.

“I’m sorry again.” Harry gathered his courage and looked into your kind eyes.

“It wasn’t your responsibility to help me, nor Niall’s.” An undertone of pain was hidden in his voice.

“And it was all very immature of me.” You could tell that it was hard for him to maintain eye contact, you’d struggle too if you were in his place. So, you averted your gaze away to relieve him.

You didn’t interrupt him, it was clear that he had many things to say.

“I ruined your evening, made you worried, and had you sleep on an uncomfortable sofa.” He swallowed down his throat, with his fingers digging crescent marks on his palm.

“I’ve put you through so much just because I do not know how to communicate.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“We’re humans, we kind of designed to miscommunicate.” You shrugged.

“Not to this extent shortcake.” His eyes held the key to everything. You used to think of him as an enigma, or impossible puzzle. But now, he was like a flowing river that held all of his thoughts that had been pressing to come out.

“I—It’s not an excuse but I’m not a fan of alcohol and I’ve never been drunk.” He swiped his hand through his hair, finally caving into his anxiety and averting his gaze.

Going with the flow and confessing that you knew was not an option. You wanted him to open his heart out instead of making him feel like he was already exposed.

“And my father was an alcoholic—“ He took a deep breath and remained silent for a few moments.

“Harry, you don’t have to push yourself to talk.” You whispered despite being alone in the room.

The signs of tiredness on his face were somehow getting worse, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Your hand immediately reached out to wipe it, making him stare lovingly.

He didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he softly grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles with his eyes shut as if he were pouring something into the kiss.

“Sweet shortcake.” He gave you a hint of a smile as he gazed into your eyes.

“A fly wouldn’t dare to hurt you, yet I did.”

“Stop blaming yourself.” You grabbed a strawberry from his plate and brought it to his mouth. He accepted it contently and went back to silence.

The staring was not unpleasant like you thought it’d be. It was a continuation of standing in front of each other in the living room. Just two souls speaking in a different language.

He caught you off guard by breaking the silence with a shocked yet joyful expression.

His hand reached out to your neck where the necklace was dangling beautifully. He ran his fingers over it, before turning it backward and smiling at the engraving.

“You wore it.”

“Of course, might be my favorite necklace so far.” His smile was so broad that he seemed as if he had forgotten all about life’s worries.

“It suits you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Because it’s special. Uncle George gave it to me and told me all about it after I left your garage.” You unintentionally broke the joyful bubble by reminding Harry of the awful events that led to this moment.

His expression slowly fell until his hand retracted away from the necklace.

“Harry—about that letter, it was immature of me. I should have faced you—“

“It’s completely your right. I’ve been so fucking shitty. I didn’t even deserve an explanation.”

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m serious. You wasted your kindness on me.” His hands were under the counter, but you had an inkling that they were shaking.

“I have a lot to explain and—“ He continued to ramble vigorously.

“H, breathe.” You stepped off the stool and went to his side.

He was rushing to tell you everything, not giving his body or mind a chance to process because he needed to explain himself. He’d go on his knees if he had to. His anxious rants and fast train of thought were nothing but an outcome of fear.

Fear of losing you.

A small part of him still believed that no matter what he said or did, you would still leave. Even if he ripped his heart out and gave it to you as it leaked black blood on the kitchen floor.

So he fired with everything that made him vulnerable, just to keep you, or at least the thought of you if you allowed.

And you knew that, god you knew. It had you fighting back tears as you faced him.

“You’re still very tired. And we don’t have to talk about every single detail right this instant. You need to rest, we both do.” Your hand caressed his cheek softly, and his face unconsciously leaned in.

“We need time to think, feel, and process what happened. I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I just won’t work for you anymore.” You weren’t the best confronter, but judging by the look in his eyes, you weren’t doing so bad.

“And—when the time is right, we’ll talk about many things.” It was your turn to tear up now, and of course, he mimicked what you did earlier by wiping your tears away.

“Can I say one last thing?”

“Yes.”

“You have bewitched me, body and soul.” He took pride in saying it, his eyes raking all over your face to save your reaction in his memory.

The slow appearance of your dimples, the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the realization dawning on your face followed by the most adorable giggle he has ever heard.

“Did you just quote Mr.Darcy!” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“He’s my number one inspiration.” His dimples made an appearance and god you’ve missed them. They brought joy to his worn-out yet beautiful face.

There was a certain undertone to his statement that had you holding back another giddy smile. One of them indicated quite the resemblance between him and Mr.Darcy. How he was cold towards Lizzie at first when he was simply smitten all along.

‘He’s my number one inspiration’

Was your story similar to theirs? Was he your Mr.Darcy? Bitter yet soft when faced with the possibility of losing you?

Another suggestion that knocked the breath out of your lungs was the sentence that would follow.

‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, love you.’

He didn’t utter it, but the idea of him even quoting your favorite book ever sparked goosebumps all over your skin.

“How did you even know what he said?” His eyes were glued to your smiling face, and if he ever lost his memory, he begged any existing divine being to only keep this sight of you.

“I read it.” He confessed proudly as if he were an Emperor flaunting his possessions.

The bluebirds have arrived and made themselves comfortable near the window. They would soon begin their orchestra as scheduled.

“You read Pride & Prejudice?!” You gasped unintentionally, causing a faint blush to creep up his cheeks.

He hummed with a grin threatening to break on his face and chewed on some eggs as you admired him.

You ached to ask him why he read this specific book. A part of you knew, but the other part craved to hear it.

Harry read your favorite book.

“Actually… speaking of reading.” You swallowed down your throat and readied yourself for your confession.

He turned his attention to you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You read a new book?”

“No—I’m in a reading slump honestly. My first one.” Your face fell, something that he immediately noticed.

“Oh—“

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, dismissing the issue. It did pain you but that wasn’t your current focus.

“What I wanted to say is that—I was cleaning some broken glass yesterday…” His jaw clenched at the mention of the glass. He didn’t think about the mess he caused, and bringing it up brought the guilt back.

“And I found something.” You were still trying to articulate proper words, but his facial expression saddened you.

Harry couldn’t decide if his brain wanted to pour its attention on blaming him for the broken glass or think about the ‘thing’ that you found.

“Yeah?”

“I did not mean to look—actually that’s a pathetic excuse.” You covered your face with your hands and let out a small groan.

“My eyes landed on some written stuff and I couldn’t stop reading your notebook.” You blurted it out as fast as possible, with an antsy body language.

“Shortcake—“

“I’m really sorry…that was rude of me, but I—“

“Calm down.” It was ironic how he managed to soothe you with two simple words.

“It’s all good, m’kay? Besides, the poem is about you shortcake.” Another proud confession left his lips as if what he said wasn’t so destructively beautiful.

You were always the reader, and never the writer. But Harry canceled both possibilities and made you the muse.

“I meant every word, and I always will.” He whispered as if the bluebirds would hear him and steal his sacred poem.

You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, your left knee was shaking and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry this is a lot to take in.” You covered your face from embarrassment.

“No pressure, shortcake.” He assured you with a thousand knives going through his heart.

Snow Bun broke the tension by thumping repeatedly until Harry kneeled, and picked him up.

“Someone wants attention…” Harry chuckled before Snowy jumped out of his lap, straight to his plate on the counter, and helped himself to strawberries.

“…or my strawberries.” He shook his head in disappointment for falling into Snowy’s trap.

Your laughter echoed in the room, overshadowing the birds’ songs. A laughter that healed Harry, and reflected his happiness.

“Do you want more food? Are you full?” He gestured to your empty plate.

“Thank you H, I’m all good. I think I’ll head home now.” You got off the stool and grabbed your bag from the sofa.

“Yeah—Okay. Let me dress up quickly to drive you.” He was heading towards his bedroom before you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I have my bike.”

“I insist, it’s the least I could do—“

“H, stop saying that. I promise I’ll be fine on my own.” He studied your facial expression to try and figure out if you genuinely do not need the ride.

“Besides, I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night, you should rest and I need some fresh air.” You tipped him an honest smile that had his heart pumping.

“Sure, whatever you like.” His hands were in his pockets as he stood facing you.

‘I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night’ had him frozen in his place.

It toyed with his heart and messed with his blood pressure. You said it so casually as if it didn’t indicate that someone cared about him—and not just anyone, it was you.

His shortcake, his delicate girl.

You walked towards the front door as Harry watched with intent eyes. After a few steps, you stopped and turned around in his direction.

He was taken aback by your action and straightened his posture.

“I’m really glad that you’re safe.” You blurted out, as you looked into his emerald eyes. He didn’t get the chance to form a response before you engulfed his body in a tight hug.

His hands immediately wrapped around your body, savoring what you offered. You warmed him up in a few moments more than the sun that woke him up.

A whiff of your strawberry shampoo was stuck in his nose and that was all he needed to feel better.

Somehow, his hands were perfectly molded for your waist, and your height was perfect for him to lower his head and lay it against yours.

Despite his wishes and dreams, you pulled away from the hug with a soft smile painted across your face.

“Bye, H.”

“Bye, shortcake.”

It was an easy departure, not filled with heavy weight on your chest or guilt. The complete opposite of your arrival last night.

You weren’t trying to avoid Harry when you said that it would need time, but you knew that some space would do good for both parties. Pondering and reflecting was a necessity, especially for Harry.

The yearning to hear Harry’s explanations remained nestled deep inside you. Your patience would undergo a practice with a small hint of knowing what was coming.

For once in your life, you didn’t jump to conclusions stemming from your anxiety. What you felt, heard, and saw was enough.

You didn’t want Harry to rush everything because you could feel how the sentence was on the tip of his tongue, along with quoting Mr.Darcy.

He had feelings for you, and it was mutual.

You allowed yourself to feel the giddiness and rush while simultaneously acknowledging past events.

What led you to write the letter, Harry’s coldness and ignorance but also his sudden moments of warmth and kindness.

Denial wasn’t an option for you. You felt attracted to him since day one, and rightfully so. As for his feelings, you’re yet to delve deep into that topic.

Time does not heal, but it’s more of a breather. Last night was emotionally charged, but it somehow changed your life upside down.

He didn’t specifically confess his feelings, and nor did you. But you kept going back to those moments of silence when your souls had a quiet chat against your knowledge. Perhaps they confessed then because you really know.

If you were to think deeply about it, Harry did the one thing he vowed to never do just because he thought that he lost you for good.

It pained you to even consider it, but that indicated how much you meant to him.

Drinking to punish himself, his poem, his apologetic sweet face, his urge to spit out every single excuse his heart held, and his body that held you as if he was shielding you from the world.

He was the man you read about in your books, with all of his good and bad traits. In fact, he was better than them because he was real with a beating heart that you listened to when you hugged him.

The past would not be forgotten, it would be vaguely memorized to learn from your mistakes as human beings who were designed and destined to commit mistakes.

The next best thing after sunshine, books, strawberries, bunnies, and poems was second chances and fresh beginnings.

Even with the knowledge that many mature conversations await you, there was something comforting about this morning that carried a whiff of warmth in the air.

Harry liked you, and you liked Harry.

Taglist: @matildasatellite @xxrosebunny @novasblogofstuff @gem1712 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @miasdelicatepov @jessitpwk @tiaamberxx @peacheskiwi @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tbsloneely @20031990s @prettythingsworld-blog @st-ev-ie @slut4marvelmenn @missmielyhoran @a-strange-familiar @wandas-lawyer @cherrycokeslay @blepskies @that-daydream-look @hslt-2809 @ivegotparticulartaste @epidxte @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @harryssideboob @malwtilda @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @epidxte @indierockgirrl @annesauriol @leenameh @scottisantman @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @nysworld @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @rueluvsharry @lomlhstyles @infinatetatie @igglepiggle22 @namelesssav

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[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄?

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the grace of the sword and the stage come together as the strawhats' swordsman and dancer fall in love.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!dancer!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, reader is a ballerina, mention of alcohol, abusive employer near the beginning, not beta read

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: la seine

the first time he saw you, he was in denial of the fact that he was, once again, lost.

it wasn't his fault! nami ditched him in favor of viewing the rows and rows of stalls featuring all sorts of glittering jewels, and before he knew it, zoro was at a loss on where he was.

choosing to wander till he found something familiar to guide him back to the ship, he was drawn to the sweet sound of laughter, clinking glass, and soft music.

without looking up to read the sign hanging over the boisterously decorated building taking up most of the left side of the street. it was probably just a bar anyway.

so he slipped inside, meaning to find a place at a counter to order a drink, when he found himself running into a podium and faced with a woman in a suit, her expression sultry as she said, "here for the last show?"

Zoro blinked down at her, lips parting. He wasn't about to let her make him look stupid, so he settled her with a stern glower and nodded.

"You're just in luck," she purred. "We've got one last seat, and you're just in time to see our principal lady."

"Right," he nodded once more and, after casting a look at the enticing exit, turned back to the hostess. "You've got booze?"

Her smile glimmered. "Just ask and ye shall receive. We have an assortment of liquors here at Le Palais de Cerise!"

Zoro followed her down a dim hallway into an even dimmer grand room. It looked something like an opera hall, with tiered rows of half-moon booths each facing a large stage.

Blue lighting shined from lanterns hung on the ceiling, casting the place in an eerie yet mystifying glow. All around the booths and tables were occupied by guests dressed much finer than Zoro, sipping on glasses of fine wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres.

The hostess brandished an arm as she showed him to a smaller booth at the very edge of the third tier away from the stage, closer to the center aisle running between two halves of the room. It was a pretty good view, nearly right in the middle of the stage.

"Thanks," he muttered distractedly, slipping into the booth and slouching instantly. "Get me a bottle of sake, yeah?"

The woman grinned widely before turning her back, her smile falling into a sneer. Now alone, Zoro got comfortable on the cushion of the seat, deciding this place wasn't too bad of a napping spot, when the lights brightening the stage faded to black.

Violins and flutes started to sing from a pit around the edge of the stage, coming alive as all conversation died out. Zoro stiffened, shifting to sit up right as his hands fell to his swords at his side.

"I hear it's her last show," sighed a young man to his friend at the neighboring booth. "We're insanely lucky."

Zoro's eyes adjusted to the dark just as a spotlight shone down on the parting ruby curtain, and out came a dozen girls dressed as the petals of a flower, twirling on the very tips of their toes. Instantly, Zoro was fascinated.

How they hopped around and danced like that without breaking something, he hadn't a clue. Zoro was on the edge of his seat before he really realized it, and barely made a sound of acknowledgement when a bottle of sake was placed beside him.

He came back to reality long enough to take a long drink, yet when his gaze returned to the stage, the music tingled to a suspenseful, drawn out theme. The flower petals stood in two diagonals forming a V and arced their arms around to present whatever was approaching.

From the left of the stage rushed a woman donned in a dress of dark red, the skirt branching out at her waist and barely dipping with each of her movements. Her bodice was lined with black and gold lace leading up to a sweetheart neckline. Not a hair on her head was out of place. Her every movement had a purpose.

The ballerina was perfection on earth. Zoro nearly wanted to remove his gaze from her, lest he taint this apparent angel.

She nearly floated with how she glided her feet, coming to a graceful halt at center stage, at the peak of the petals' V, and presented her arms as if to say here I am!

All around the audience applauded her for her presence alone, and Zoro found himself lazily meeting his palms together as well.

The music swelled as she extended her arms to cross and pointed out a toe, hopping forward as her arms gradually lifted over her head, before she leapt into an arabesque and pattered across the stage.

Behind her, the V of petals crossed the stage to the opposite side they were on, halting in unison on a tall and extended pique.

The main ballerina continued to glide this way and that, commanding the entire room, no fault in her every twirl, leap, and scurry.

Throughout the entire performance, Zoro watched dutifully, his attention never once departing from you.

And upon the stage, with the blinding lights casting the audience in a gray shadow, you swore you felt something tangibly heavy in the way they looked at you now, though you couldn't place a finger on why.

You only knew that when the music climaxed and faltered, and the curtain lowered on you and your friends, that as the lights grew dim, you caught sight of someone leaving the theater, a set of swords glinting at their side.

It was no surprise when flowers upon flowers arrived at your little room near the back of the theater.

You were known across the city and ones around it for your grace. People came from every which way to watch you dance the same dances, on the same stage, with the same people night after night after night.

You were bored, to say the least.

For ages, you ached for the thrill dance had once brought you. To not know every move by heart, to have something to learn rather than perform out of mere memory.

You missed what it was like to make mistakes, because they made success all the more sweet.

It was why that night was your last performance at Le Palais de Cerise. The next day, you would set sail with a family of merchants you'd met the week prior, and visit lands you'd only ever dreamed of.

Hopefully, some day, you'd find the thrill once again.

But there was Madame Cerise to think of, the owner of the theater hall, and she was not so ready to let her prized ballerina slip away.

"It would be a shame," she said to her brutish son, "if our dear angel was robbed of all her money. How would she pay for escape then?"

Zoro wasn't nearly as drunk as he'd like to be, but he didn't really need the alcohol anymore. Not when all he could think of was how the hell those dancers didn't break their toes.

Looking left and right, ensuring no one was out on the streets with him, he attempted to balance himself on the very tip of his boots, immediately teetering forward and nearly twisting his ankle.

He spit out a curse, pushing back his shoulders only to slump forward again and trudge down the street. The streetlamps flickered here and there, the night breeze chilling his bare arms.

"Stop! Stop, please!"

Zoro whipped around, eyes peeled, and zeroed in on the alleyway ahead to his right. The pleading voice echoed as three burly shadows tripped and stumbled out onto the street, sprinting away.

He was halfway into a pursuit when he caught the tell-tale sound of crying. Faltering to a stop just outside the mouth of the alley, he made out the silhouette of someone in a crumbled heap on the ground.

You glanced up from cradling your skinned and burning palms to your chest, hiccuping. Finding yet another shadow lurking there, you bit back, "I've got nothing left! Run back to Cerise, you--you mutt!"

Well, that didn't exactly make him want to help you, but then, in the dim lamplight, he saw through your tear stained face and found the ballerina who'd enchanted him an hour before.

He didn't know what to do, feeling odd with an unsheathed sword in hand as you glared at him, awaiting his next move. Zoro cleared his throat. "You... danced nice."

You eyes flickered all over him before you broke into yet another round of sobs, somehow managing through it, "Yeah, and I'll be dancing nicely till I'm old and wrinkly and dead. Ugh!"

Clawing at your arms, mumbling more to yourself, "I'm such a fool... Why did I think she'd let me go..."

You were too caught up in picturing the rest of your mundane life to realize Zoro was approaching you, only jerking away from him when he knelt in front of you.

His sword was back in its scabbard, and despite the scar over his eye, the other one was nearly soft. But there was nothing soft in the way he asked you, "Who won't let you go?"

A long story short, le palais de cerise went up in flames a few days after, and you found yourself sailing away not only with the promise of adventure, but with the promise of friendship.

and the hint of something more, judging from how zoro acted around you.

It was comical, really. Once, the swordsman had been a wall of stoicism, never to be toppled. And now this woman with all the grace and poise of a swan comes in, and he’s toppled like a feather in the wind.

Not that the others would complain; he wasn’t so grouchy when you were near, the tautness in his brows softening at the very sound of your voice.

Nami and Robin often teased you about Zoro's little crush, and you never paid them any mind—you’d think twice before admitting to having a soft spot for your crewmate.

Still, it was obvious something was there.

He always tended to be near you whenever he wasn’t training or asleep. Whether you were sitting around reading, or listening to music on a gramophone Nami may or may not have stolen for you, Zoro was likely to be there, laying at your side, content with the company.

You never failed to save him a seat at breakfast, waiting even when the others got up to start working, knowing Zoro would walk in later than the rest all grumpy and tired.

Zoro stood at your side like some kind of guard dog, especially when outside the safety of the ship.

It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t look after yourself! It’s just, well, you can’t exactly fight.

“So teach me,” you snapped back, not appreciating being treated like glass.

Zoro sputtered, unsure if you’re serious, and promptly sets down his fork in favor of matching your stare from across the table.

Before he could say anything, Robin stood to put up her plate and said, “That’s a good idea. Everyone should be able to defend themself.”

You could have kissed her, grinning as she winked and wandered off. 

“You don’t need to,” Zoro blurted. 

Nami smirked as she took a sip of her water. “Why’s that?”

His reply was instant. “I’ll protect you.”

Your cheeks warmed. “That’s sweet, but you won’t always be there.”

He glared at the prospect, as if to say watch me. 

“If Marimo refuses, I would love to teach you, darling—”

“Shut up!” Zoro faced you, narrowing his eyes at the little smile you gave him. “We start tomorrow.”

Snickering, you lurched forth and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, jumping to your feet before he could even register what had happened. “Thanks, Zo!”

Whilst you made a hasty exit and Sanji started to yell at Zoro, Nami couldn’t help her excited gape as she locked eyes with Robin. The dark haired woman grinned cheekily, watching Zoro stare blankly into space. 

“She’s got him wrapped around her finger.”

Zoro did not go easy on you, and you didn’t exactly mind too much. 

You wanted to get better. That was the only reason you were out here, in the blazing sun, watching Zoro’s chest as it heaved underneath his thin shirt.

Okay, maybe not the only reason. But the main one was definitely learning to protect yourself! 

You learned quickly, sometimes even beating Zoro out on the deck in the morning, purely excited at the chance to train with him.

He had wandered into the girls room to get you, only to be confused when all he found was Nami yelling at him to get out. 

And when he saw you practicing your form with the sword he’d bought with you on that last island. 

Zoro knew you were graceful. He’d seen it the first time he ever saw you. Grace was a word so wrapped up in his view of you. 

But fuck—you were anyting but graceful with a sword. 

Each of your movements were stiff and rigid and sharp. How hadn’t he noticed it before?

So he came up and, without really thinking, reached around to grab your wrist, taking your elbow in his other hand, caging you between his arms. 

You’re not quite sure how you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

Only after your eyes met did Zoro realize the predicament he’d gotten himself into—and promptly sprang away from you, complimenting how fast you caught on and beelining back into the ship.

You weren’t sure you could take much more of that. Not before you acted on one of your many urges to kiss him senseless.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait much longer.

So long of the crew’s teasing, slight grazes of the hand, and longing stares all led up to one night aboard the ship, lost in the music and sea breeze.

Zoro had been trying to take another sip of his drink for a while now, but each time he brought his glass to his lips, his eyes were dragged back to you, and Zoro’s breath hitched as he lowered his hand once more.

You were effervescent, your smile never wavering as you twirled and stomped around to the beat of the melody strumming from Brook’s guitar. You had caught Usopp in a waltz now, dragging him with you as he stumbled to keep up. A laugh bubbled up and out of you, and Zoro’s chest seized. 

Nami rolled her eyes, growing tired of watching Zoro be so hopelessly infatuated. “Would you give it up? Do us all a favor and just tell her already.”

The swordsman barely cast her a glance, finally managing to get some sake down his throat to sooth the anxiety welling in his chest. “No clue what you’re on about.”

“You’re impossible,” she scoffed, standing while setting a hand on his shoulder. “And just plain sad.” Nami had skipped off to take your hand before Zoro could snap back at her, and he watched from his seat as Nami spun you around, dragging another chuckle out of you.

Sighing, Zoro lowered his gaze and settled on remaining seated the whole night, allowing you to have your fun without dampening it with his useless conversations. 

A figure plopped into Nami’s abandoned seat, and he was prepared for another tease, when your voice loftily inquired, “Zoro, you’ve been sad all night.”

Instantly, his head lifted to look at you and your slight smile. Your chest heaved up and down, still exhausted from dancing circles around the deck. He set his glass down, shifting his knees to face yours. “I’m fine. You tired?”

Your huffed sigh was answer enough, pulling a scant grin out of him. Your face lit up at the sight, and your eyes took a slightly warmer tone. “I know your answer already, but do you wanna dance?”

He nearly said what you expected—no—before it sank in that you had expected it. For him to deny you of something you wanted. Zoro’s eyes flickered all over your pretty face, his heart beating fast, and he nodded, much to your surprise.

“Really?” You tried to hold back your smile. “I mean, you don’t have to—”

“I do.”

You nearly squealed right then and there, settling for beaming at him whilst you scooped up his hand and pulled him to his feet. Your smile was coy and his was stifled, but everyone could see it. You took both his hands in yours and leaned back, spinning the both of you around.

From somewhere nearby, Sanji was scoffing and Usopp was whistling, but Zoro hardly even heard the music anymore. All he was conscious of was you and your snickers, of how your touch ignited his skin, of his stumbling feet, of how you drew him closer with a slight tug on his hand and wrung your arms around his neck.

Brook, as if on cue, began to strum a softer song, something akin to a slow dance. It drew a grin on your face, your eyes fluttering closed. Zoro’s heart jumped and his right foot crushed yours. He apologized swiftly as you winced, somehow still giggling at him. Angel, he thought.

Zoro couldn’t breathe. Not when you looked at him like that. His hands froze at his sides before they inched closer to you, hovering over your sides. Your eyes were shut, and he admired you unabashedly, leaning forward till his nose brushed your own, jerking you from your reverie to find him a breath away. 

His eyes widened after locking with yours, sputtering another apology as he attempted to remove himself from your vicinity, cursing himself. Your hands intertwined around his neck, holding him in place as all sense of caution fled your body. One last look into your eyes had Zoro lurching forward, catching your lips and relishing in the feeling of your thumb grazing his cheek. 

How an angel like you could hold a demon like him so lovingly, he wasn't sure. Zoro vowed to spend his life trying to find out, remaining at your side dutifully till the end of his days. You certainly had no objections, doing your best every day to convince him he indeed deserved your love.

The others never let you hear the end of it. Every “about time” made you that much closer to smacking someone upside the head. 

After your feelings were revealed, not much changed. The dynamic was still there, with the added physical intimacy when far from the prying eyes of the others, of course.

Zoro liked to lay his head on your legs while you read, and he’d never say it out loud, but he loved it when you carded your hands lazily through his hair. He didn't exactly need to tell you though; his contented sighs and following snores were enough.

He’s still not much of a dancer, and you respect when he’s just too tired to entertain your twirling and whirling. But sometimes, on days where he’s been up so long he starts to feel energized, he’ll take your hand and drag you onto the floor of whatever bar he’d brought you to. 

He's terrible, finding no rhythm no matter how hard he tries, and he settles for simply swaying along with you.

(You're in no place to tease him for it; you're just as out of place with a sword in hand).

Funny how you both held such grace in your separate fields of passion, yet lost it all the moment you try the other's craft.

Zoro still short-circuited every time your lips brushed his cheek, even if it became a habit of yours whenever leaving his side. 

Princess. Treatment (Or as much as he can give).

He’ll bully you if you start complaining that your feet hurt, but he’ll let you cling to his back like a koala all the way back to ship while doing it. 

Whilst walking around whatever city the crew was stopped at, he’ll have one arm around you at all times, really only letting you go when you weasel out of his arms to go listen to the little band playing music on the street corner. 

(He stands guard at the front of the crowd, eyes peeled whilst you distract the watchers long enough for Nami to pickpocket each and every one of them. And when he’s inevitably so caught up in watching you, someone notices Nami slinking off with their wallet. The three of you race through the street and around a corner, laughing till your sides ache).

Zoro will help you destroy all your dead pointe shoes from your days on Cerise’s stage, having no need for them on the sea, slamming the shoes by the ribbons against the deck of the ship till Usopp yells at you for leaving scratches on the deck. 

He has a little too much fun with it, and you’re no different, feeling free of all bitterness and anger with each shoe that you snap in two. The others are only slightly concerned about the violence of it all, leaving the pair of you alone when you and Zoro melt into laughter like children.

You try to teach him to waltz one day, because he was hopeless on the dance floor with two left feet. When he tried to escape it, you simply replied, “I want to dance with you… and keep my toes too.” “Hey!”

An hour must have passed, and Zoro still couldn’t process exactly what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to. He narrowly missed your toe again by stepping forward when he was meant to step back. 

Zoro grunted, dropping his arms from your waist and putting a wide berth between you. “Forget it.”

Grinning softly, you took his chin between your thumb and finger, catching his frustrated gaze that melted once it met with yours. “It’s fine. You’ll get it eventually.”

He scoffed as if to say yeah right, and you took that personally. Raising a brow, you lowered your gaze to your feet, then to Zoro’s, before a grin tugged at your lips. “I know! Here.”

You hooked your arms around his neck, getting up close and personal as you gently stepped onto his shoes. Zoro tried to remain stoic, but it all fell through when you brushed your nose against his and dragged a little chuckle out of him. 

“What’re you doing?” he asked fondly.

“Dancing,” you laughed. “This way, you can’t step on my feet.”

“But now you’re stepping on mine.”

“Hush. Just—spin around. I dunno.”

His hands settled on your hips, his eyes rolling to the side despite the light blush on his cheeks giving him away. Zoro grinned slyly and wrapped his arms around you, tottering from one foot to the next in a swift whirl. You squealed his name into his neck as he lifted you up, spinning the both of you around and around till you could barely breathe, you were laughing so hard.

Your feet touched the floor as Zoro’s sight got too dizzy, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest as he leaned into you for balance. You gripped his shoulders so he wouldn’t take you down with him, running your hand up the back of his neck to card through his hair. 

He pulled back, smiling dazedly, and you shook your head at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Eh,” he said, ducking to hover his lips over yours. “I think I’m getting good at this dancin’ thing.”

Your scoff was muffled against his kiss, deep and slow. He grinned against your mouth, taking the first step forward to lead you back to his bed. The door to the boy‘s cabin swung open, instantly followed by a sharp scoff.

You broke away from Zoro to find Sanji standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed at Zoro’s back. “Whore,” he spat, his eyes softening on you. “Not you, my dear.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” you said with a roll of your eyes, watching as Zoro’s good mood flew out the window as he glared daggers into the cook. “Welp, dance class is over.” 

They were arguing before you ever left the room, their tones escalating surprisingly fast. “Bye, boys!”

There was a lull in the shouting before the sound of Zoro lumbering down the hall (did he just run into the doorframe?) echoed after you. “Hey, angel, wait!”

You turned, giggling as your graceless boyfriend stumbled to a stop before you, one arm resting on the wall beside you to steady himself. He too started to smile after catching the soft one on your lips, his other arms reaching to pull you close by your hip.

"I'll practice," he promised softly, his nose gently brushing your own.

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. I'll sweep you off your feet once and for all then."

He kissed you then, softly and full of intention, so you didn't bother to say Oh, but you already have.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s

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