#it didn’t hurt him to not be greeted into welcoming arms because he’d never had that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oven-thermometer · 3 months

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Don’t Ask.

Summary: Damian needs a place to spend the night, somewhere he won’t be riddled with questions – somewhere he’d feel safe. Jason’s place just seems to materialise.

(NOT A SHIP)

a/n: my bff and I made a sims world for dc and cod characters. that’s how this started. enjoy. This is a hurt/comfort if you were wondering.

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, past trauma, swearing, the author has never written for dc before, spelling mistakes problably.

w/c: 4.7k

It was raining when Jason pushed the doors open. He had been sitting in that stuffy room in a sharing circle for what felt like hours. He hadn’t spoken much in today’s session, not that he minded. He preferred the days were he could sit back and silently make his own judgements about the other people sitting in shitty plastic chairs, pouring their hearts out for six strangers and one mildly qualified doctor.

A soft hand touched his arm as he stared listlessly at the wet parking lot. Turning his head, he found the comforting smile of Meemaw Vicky staring at him. The elderly woman had insisted he call her Vicky, it made her feel young apparently – he added the ‘Meemaw’ part himself to tease her.

“You didn’t talk in there today.” She remarked, letting her hand fall from his arm in preference of standing next to him.

“Didn’t feel like any of the topics applied to me much.” He lied.

She just hummed in reply, letting him stew in the fact that she knew exactly what he actually wanted to say. ‘Today just felt like one of those days where if I talk too much I’ll drop dead.’

She knew because she had those days too, he knew that as well. She was in the same therapy group as him, and he’d heard some of her stories. Her husband being murdered in front of her from a home invasion wasn’t what he was expecting to come out of what seemed to be the kindest old lady, although he didn’t think anyone was prepared to hear his truth either. He left out the raised by batman and dying part, but being kidnapped by the Joker was all too well known by some of the people in this godforsaken community center.

Breaking out of his trance, Jason inhaled sharply, “You still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I’ll be bringing a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just kept watching the soft rain pattering onto the ground.

“I’m sure I will, Meemaw.”

Jason helped her to the bus stop, leaving with a kiss on his cheek and a dish of leftover mac and cheese he wasn’t sure where she was keeping.

Something was wrong. When he had arrived home, the rain still making itself known, something had been off. None of his lights were on, so he couldn’t see in – but the welcome mat Barbra had gotten him was scuffed with mud he knew he hadn’t tracked in last night after his patrol. Checking the front door confirmed it was still locked.

Opening the door slowly, he surveyed the room. His bottom floor was completely open plan, save for a cupboard acting as a divider between the kitchen and the living room. Nothing was amiss from what he could see, except for his missing dog. She always woke up before he actually got in, waiting to greet him at the door. But she was missing and he couldn’t even hear her soft snores.

Then he heard it. A soft mumble. Something he couldn’t make out. But he had heard it. It had come from his living room area. When he made his way over, he couldn’t do anything except let out a deep, annoyed sigh.

“I thought dogs were meant to deter unwanted guests.”

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne sat on Jason’s beaten up couch with a neutral expression as he ran his hand behind Dog’s ear. She looked up at Jason, her tongue flopping out. Damian seemed to either be in a deep comatose state, or he was completely ignoring Jason’s presence.

“What? No snarky comment or backhanded compliment?” Jason asked as he moved to turn the lights on. When he turned back to the teenager, the bruises littering his neck catches his attention immediately. From what he could see they continued all the way round and disappeared under his shirt too. He would’ve been alarmed if it weren’t for the fact that Damian was a crime-fighting vigilante, had a kill count in the triple digits and oh yeah, was the son of Batman. So Jason just shook his head and walked to the kitchen.

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Jason called out, busying himself with shoving some of the mac and cheese in the microwave.

Dog had finally let up on her pure betrayal. She trotted over to Jason, purely unaware as she scratched at her food bowl.

With no response coming from the couch’s occupant, Jason just rolled his eyes and bent down to pet Dog and fill her food bowl. Her slightly crossed eyes closed as she licked at his face before she started on her dinner. She was a certified therapy dog, another gift from that group therapy. She worked, though. She gave him something to get out of bed for. Whatever happened, he knew he had to get home and feed Dog. And she calmed him down during the occasional panic attack, so he didn’t mind the downside of walks and feeding too much.

Later, after Jason and Damian had sat at the kitchen island in silence and each had eaten their own dinner, Damian got up without a word and began washing the few dishes left in the sink. Jason knew not to argue with him when he started doing something. He settled for watching him as he washed and rinsed, offering the occasional help when he noticed the boy would stop for a few seconds as he didn’t know where something was. At this point Jason was getting slightly concerned. Damian was never this quiet. He would show up without explanation sometimes, but he’d always offer some insult or sassy statement throughout the visit. This wasn’t normal.

Checking his phone, no out of the ordinary messages peaked his interest, no one asking where Damian was or who had him. Then, the time caught his eye. If Damian went to sleep any later, he’d be a disaster to deal with in the morning and there weren’t enough therapy dogs in the world for that patience test.

“C’mon, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Just before Jason left his bedroom to let Damian get some sleep, he stopped. Damian was standing next to his bed, awkwardly wringing his hands together and shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

His voice was small when he spoke, and it sounded too broken for it’s own good, “I presume Alfred has been told of my whereabouts.”

“Nope.” His reply was quick and matter-of-fact.

“He would want to know where I am – and so would… so would father.” The last part was softer, almost like he didn’t want to say it in the first place.

“Between you and me, I can tell when someone doesn’t wanna be found just yet.”

The door made a soft click as Jason closed it behind him. Dog was all too happy when she got to smother him completely as he lay down on the couch.

The next morning, as the last part of yesterday’s rain still prattled on stubbornly against his windows, Jason stood in the kitchen with his favourite mug. His neighbour had gotten it for him, a house-warming gift. He hated the stupid camo decals but it was the first genuine gift he had gotten in years. So he kept it. Not hearing the sound of careful footsteps coming down the stairs, Jason blinked his thoughts away when Damian’s unkempt set of dark curls entered his peripheral vision.

“Rough night?” Jason joked.

“What? I stayed in the room if that’s what-“

“It’s an expression dumbass, your hair looks like it’s going in five different directions.”

“…Oh.” That small glimpse of innocence and the look of a tiny epiphany in Damian made Jason smile, but it was wiped away quickly when Damian started listing off his breakfast needs like he was at a restaurant.

“-and with that you’ll pour the cream over. Oh and don’t forget the eggs. Not too crispy and not too soft.”

“You order Alfred around like that in the mornings?” Jason turned to his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal that was probably two months too old.

“I usually accept my breakfast in bed, and he already knows how I like everything.” He sat on one of the high-chairs, looking impossibly childish as his legs hung off too far from the ground.

“Oh, sorry your highness, but you’ll have to deal with cereal today.” They did this dance everytime he came over to visit.

As Damian ate, Jason started with washing the mug and spoon in his sink. This felt better. The younger boy was finally offering up full sentences one after the other and wouldn’t immediately look away when he tried to meet his eyes – even though he could tell he was still struggling.

But those bruises caught his eye again. Bile started to rise in his throat.

“Your neck-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped eating for a moment before returning with more fervor.

“So they aren’t ones from fighting?”

“Would that make them better? Acceptable?” Damian looked straight at his brother, piercing through him with his accusing stare. A challenge.

“No, but I just wanna know if you’re safe, idiot.”

His gaze fell. He pushed his almost finished bowl of probably unsafe cereal away and stood.

“I want to leave now. The walk to my school from your house is longer than from the manor.”

After a long moment of Jason scrutinizing his every move, he sighed. “You can leave, but you’re not going to school today.”

His mouth snarled and his brow raised as he registered his words, “Excuse me?”

“If you think my questions about those marks are too personal, you’ll hate what the teachers are gonna ask.” He shrugged.

He pondered for a moment before replying, “Maybe missing school is for the best, just today though.”

Jason put the mug and spoon onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on a dishcloth while he made his way to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to leave? Might as well take dog with us, she needs a walk anyways.” He held out a leash, offering it to Damian as Dog made her presence known with excited barks.

The skeptical look on Damian’s face as he walked over could have been framed. He questioned the idea of ‘us’ out-loud as he clipped the leash onto Dog’s collar.

Jason didn’t bother replying, opting to walk out the door, expecting the others to follow. The morning was still exceptionally dreary. The rain was even more misty than yesterday, but still annoying enough to warrant Jason bringing his umbrella from inside.

The trio walked down the street without a word, with Dog being none the wiser as she sniffed at every passer-by. Jason waved to his neighbour as they passed his house, although the man just gave a blank expression and a nod in reply.

“What is wrong with him?” Damian asked as the blonde man quickly disappeared back into his house.

“I know him from therapy, he’s ex-military or some shit. Got traumatized enough to be discharged early I guess.” He decided to leave out the part where his husband died in his arms from a gunshot to the head.

After a short while, both of them had fallen silent. Neither felt the need to fill the space between them with pointless chit-chat. That was until Damian piped up, “Your… therapy, does it actually work?”

“Most the time. Thinking of finally talking to someone?” Jason taunted him with a raised brow and smirk, wanting to get him back for this morning.

“Definitely not. I can’t imagine anything worse than some stranger who only cares about their paycheck asking me about my life.”

“You know, it’s not always like that. Some therapists actually care. Sure, a lot of them only want the session over with so they can diagnose you and ask for the bill,” Jason sat on a park bench, expecting for the other to follow his lead, “but there are therapists that genuinely want to help people. And, you don’t have to be alone when you do it, by the way.”

Instead of replying immediately, Damian bent down to unclip Dog’s leash. She set off instantly in search of a nearby flock of pigeons with her tail pointed high and her nose to the ground. Damian chose to stay standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It made Jason smile to himself.

“I don’t think the being alone is the issue to me.” He said it quietly, his gaze darting from one person to the next as they went about their business in the park. Even though most Gothamites were used to the near-constant downpour many still chose to stay indoors when the weather got like this. Autumn was Damian’s favourite season just for this – he could go just about anywhere and not be bothered by huge crowds or people willing to linger too long.

“It helps, when you’re in a group. It hurts like hell and it gets embarrassing when you start crying in front of like, eight civilians and a doctor who just smiles the whole time-“

“That sounds awful.”

“But,” he says forcefully, immediately regretting it when Damian recoiled ever so slightly, “forcing yourself to be vulnerable around strangers actually gets you used to being human again. And when you realize those strangers are actually going through the same thing as you, they become way less scary.”

Gently, Jason placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian stiffened a little, but his expression remained blank as he kept staring off into the distance.

The words sat on his tongue like acid, burning his throat from the inside out. He wanted to shake the boy and scream at him that it didn’t have to be like this. That he didn’t have to pretend to hide where those bruises came from. That he didn’t have to miss school like this. That he didn’t have to come running to his older brother’s house anymore. He wanted to scream the softest words he knew he’d never heard before. But he settled for letting his hand fall from his shoulder and placing it next to Damian’s clenched fist. Not an invitation, or a threat, just a reminder.

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence. When they finally arrived back home, Jason noted that Damian seemed less dejected, but as if he was now just floating above his body.

Jason took his place in the rocking chair Meemaw Vicky got him for knitting in. The whole thing had been her idea, she said knitting helps keep your hands and your mind off of other things – and god knew he needed that. The old, stolen, clock that sat on Jason’s, also stolen, shelf reminded him of something he had very much conveniently forgotten.

Meemaw Vicky would be arriving in exactly ten minutes, maybe longer if she was late – Jason knew she wouldn’t be. His gaze turned to Damian who was sitting quietly on his couch, reading through one of the random books Jason kept on his shelves, next to that clock. Dog slept at his feet, her muffled snores indicating her tiredness after their walk. Damian’s glazed over eyes flew across the words, leaning back into the plush cushions as he flipped the pages. His nose crinkled every few sentences, trying to decipher whatever hidden message the author was trying to make him read between the lines for. He had two options, shove Damian out the house before Meemaw Vicky can get her hands on his chubby cheeks and then end up with a knife in her ribs, or lock him upstairs till she leaves. He decided on neither.

“I have someone coming over soon.”

“Pennyworth?” he didn’t even look up as he answered him.

“For the last time, he probably knows where you are already and no I have not called him. A friend of mine is visiting.”

“You have friends?” that got an amused look from Damian. Friendly eye contact, progress.

That comment snapped his invisible patience though.

“Speak for yourself,” stop, “you’ve been at that school for what? Eight months?” what are you doing, “How many friends have you managed to make?” why am I saying this, “And how many of those kids actually know you past the fact that you’re a billionaires kid who can’t talk about his feelings?” God please just shut up.

Jason bit the inside of his cheek before he could continue fucking up. He tasted copper while he saw the emotions flit through Damian’s eyes. They were too short to recognize but he felt each one like a gut punch all the same. Damian just blinked and looked back down to his book, obviously not actually reading it. Progress erased.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

That feeling came back, the urge to grip him so tight and engrain what he was feeling into his bones. The feelings he couldn’t hope to find the words for. The apologies, the forgiveness, the reassurance, the anger.

The ringing of the doorbell announcing Meemaw Vicky's arrival interrupted Jason thoughts.

Damian didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting up. He just kept looking at the book.

Dog got up and happily trotted over to greet her through the door. Jason sighed as he walked over to open the door, giving her cheeks a kiss each as to say hello.

“Oh Jason, I finally managed to grow those orchids we talked about! They were tough but they bloomed just this morning! I brought a few cuttings for you to keep around the house.” Her smile seemed to cleanse the soul, letting you know just how good her intentions always where. Not a bad bone resided in this woman’s body – maybe that’s why Jason loved having her over. He felt as if the goodness overflowing from her every word would stain him and his house so that nothing of his past would remain. And he also just enjoyed the company every once in a while.

Jason failed to notice just how quickly the elderly woman could still move. She had already gotten all the way to his living room while he was thinking, leaving the plastic bags surely filled with flower cuttings on his kitchen counter. He had to move.

But when he walked the distance and talked himself out of revisiting the locking Damian upstairs idea, all he found was Meemaw Vicky leaning dangerously close over Damian’s shoulder, asking him a list of questions about himself.

She stood up and looked to Jason, shoving an accusatory finger in his space. “You never told me you had a little brother! I expected better from you, Jason Todd.”

Damian scoffed at that. Jason just rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology.

Meemaw Vicky sat a respectable distance on the couch from the boy, giving him ample space. She had calmed down considerably, but still asked Damian questions he answered through gritted teeth.

“How old are you?”

“13.”

“Oh, same age as my granddaughter! You’d love her. I think I should bring her over one day to meet you.”

“Please don’t.”

“So what are you learning about in school? Ooh, what book have you got there? I need to catch up on my reading.”

“I- I am on a normal curriculum and I’m reading, uh, Pride and Prejudice.”

“I see,” she sat back for a moment, studying him, “you know that’s your brother’s favourite book.”

“…Really?”

Meanwhile, content that he wasn’t going to stab her, Jason had left the two alone to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he decided to actually check his phone for the first time since last night. The usual app notifications were quickly deleted, with a few kept – if he doesn’t keep the instagram notifications he will never remember to watch all the reels Dick sends him, and then he’ll never hear the end of it. His finger stopped in it’s motion across the phone when it lit up with a call screen. The caller ID seemed to seep into Jason’s psyche and grip his lungs.

‘Bruce Wayne’ in plain, black text in front of the white background laughed at him. It was taunting him.

He declined the call. And the next one. And the next three.

He only picked up the last call because this time it came from Alfred, and he was too scared to decline a call from that man.

“What’s up?”

“Master Jason, I assume Master Damian is with you?”

“Why?”

“He didn’t come home from school yesterday. He’d only ever stay the night at your or Master Dick’s house.”

“And how do you not know he’s not at Dick’s place?”

“Because he at least answers Bruce’s phone calls the first time. Master Dick has not seen Master Damian.”

Damn that man and his phone addiction, and his undying loyalty to their adoptive father.

“Listen, he’s here but I can tell he doesn’t wanna go home. Not yet.”

“That is not what I’m concerned with, what I don’t like is him getting to skip school. You know how important an education is to give that boy some semblance of a normal life.” Although Alfred’s words were curt and pinched, Jason felt the genuine care that lay beneath them. Alfred loved Damian just as much as any of them.

“I… I know. But Alfred, did you see his neck? People would ask questions. And you know he hates that.” He spoke in a hushed voice, careful to not let Damian hear.

The silence that came from the other end of the call was filled with the kettles high-pitched whine. Quickly turning the stove off, Jason wracked his brain for what to say to Alfred about any of this.

But, it was Alfred that spoke as Jason poured the cups of tea while holding the phone to his ear.

“I was not made aware of any injuries. How bad are they?”

“God, Alfred I- shit,” he winced as he spilled some boiling water on his hand, “I don’t know. He won’t even let me see but there are nasty bruises all over his neck. And I can tell they go further. He must’ve had a pretty bad fight, did something happen?”

“Master Damian has not been on patrol for a few days though, he has been on a strict sleeping schedule due to an upcoming school project.”

“… what?” Suddenly, those calls from Bruce started making sense.

It was hours later, Meemaw had left long ago and Jason disappeared into his room. When he descended the stairs, clad in his vigilante costume, he found Damian still sitting cross-legged in the living room. He was actually properly reading the book and Jason almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him.

“Did you bring your suit?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Get dressed. Meet me on the roof.” He knew he didn’t have to explain how to get up there, he'd find his way fine.

By the time Damian finally joined Jason on the roof, Jason stood with his hands on his hips looking like an impatient mother. “Follow.” Was all the instruction Jason gave before he darted off in the direction of the next rooftop.

When they stopped a few minutes later, Jason looked over to Damian, “Tired yet, kid?”

Damian shook his head, a neutral expression staining his face.

This continued for city block after city block. Mile after mile, they ran. Every few stops, Jason would look to Damian with a grin– a challenge of his own. And Damian would accept it every time.

Only when both of them were drenched in sweat and panting for breath did Jason finally speak again.

“Tired?”

Damian stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Oxygen flooded his lungs as he breathed and sweat dripped off of his face. He didn’t even try and respond.

Jason just chuckled, huffing before setting off in a run again.

Only about five rooftops later did he think to look back. He didn’t think he would find Damian right behind him – on all-fours, his chest heaving.

Jason silently came towards him, sitting on his haunches and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was gentler this time, “Tired?”

Damian’s eyes were screwed shut. Tears of exhaustion burned him. The stench of sweat invaded his nostrils. Every part of his suit clung to him in all the wrong ways. He wanted to tear every offending piece off of him. He wanted to scream but the exertion had stolen too much out of him.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Damian’s shoulder as he spoke, “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. You did good.”

No. No he didn’t. He had failed. He’d lost the challenge. He couldn’t have hoped to keep up if they had continued. He-

“Hey. Look at me.”

Slowly, Damian’s eyes opened. His ribs burned with embarrassment as his gaze lifted.

“I’m sor-“ Damian tried.

“Stop.” His voice wasn’t too rough this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d been trained better than that. And yet Damian still winced.

“Look at how far we came. How far you came.” He nodded his head to the horizon behind them, and Damian followed his guide to glance back.

He couldn’t even see Jason’s house anymore. He could only see an unfamiliar landscape dotted with buildings and rooftops. They had gone so far he couldn’t even recognize where in Gotham they were.

“Where are we?”

“One of the newer suburbs, Bruce hasn’t mapped this part of the city yet. That’s why I love coming here.” He stood, moving to the edge of the roof.

“Why did you bring me here, Jason?” the way he said his name made his heart hurt.

“Because,” he grunted as he swung his legs over the edge and took a seat, “I wanted to remind you that you’re human. You can’t do everything. You can fall over because you’re exhausted. You can fail.”

Tears pricked at his eyes for a different reason now. His limbs screeched at him as he stood.

“I am aware that I am only human. I am reminded of that every single day.”

“Yeah, but did anyone ever teach you that that’s a good thing? That it is allowed?”

Damian reluctantly sat next his brother. It was late by now, the final streaks of dusk laying in the sky.

“I can hardly see how constantly being told that you are human is a good thing.”

“Told?”

Damian’s breath hitched.

Jason smirked, “There it is.”

The younger boy’s shoulders dropped.

“So, who is it? Who do I need bury?”

He refused to answer.

“Damian if someone is hurting you, you are allowed to defend yourself. You don’t need to keep up this civilian charade when it comes to-“

“I know that. My civilian persona doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Jason quirked his brow at this. A deep orange glow disappeared over the buildings and the final stars began to show. The theory Jason feared the most was rearing it’s ugly head.

“It was Bruce wasn’t it.” It was less of a question, but he was getting tired of beating around the bush.

As the navy sky blanketed the city and snuffed out any of the golden sunset, Damian finally allowed himself to let go. Jason didn’t need to look over to see the tears flowing down his brother’s face, he knew. How ever silent Damian thought he was being or had been last night in Jason’s room, he knew. He also knew the pain. The pain of acceptance that came with acknowledging what had happened, and who did it to you.

“I wasn’t fast enough. I deserved it.” Jason just let him talk, “We were training, and I- I failed. I could’ve been faster, stronger – I could have…”

It took a few more moments before he continued, “I got too tired. He caught me too many times. I-“

His voice broke when Jason pulled him towards his chest. He wrapped his arms around the too-young boy. Damian let his heart sink. He let his exhausted mind melt. He let himself be human for a second.

#batfam #batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #batfam fic #batfam angst #batman mentioned!!#Simon riley cameo

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whchenlvr · 4 months

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Hi, I absolutely loved your Weak Hero collections. There are just so few of them in here, and you did such an amazing job capturing their personalities. I'm a great sucker for angst, so if requests are open, and you're comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could do a scenario where Y/N gets seriously hurt while taking the hit for them? Like they get in between and get stabbed/punched/near death? Basically, it's their fault you get hurt?

You can write for any, but I'd really like a Wolf Keum one...

Thank you tons and absolutely loved your writing style :p

YES omg i’ve been wanting to write angst and i LOVEEE wolf. THANK YOU SO MYCH

when you get seriously hurt ;

weak hero x gn!reader

wolf keum. stabbed

➤ you had a bad feeling. you tried convincing wolf not to leave that night, but he didn’t listen. when did he ever?

➤ the union was never safe, but recently, the violence has gotten more extreme. you’d witnessed old friends of yours falling into the fighting scene and ending up in the hospital

➤ you even caught yourself waiting by the front door until you see your boyfriend through the window and have to stop yourself from running out to greet him

➤ you’re doing just that one evening, watching, when you see wolf’s purple hair appear. you’re about to welcome him in when something behind him catches your eye

➤ without thinking, you throw the door open and run out to him. wolf is too distracted by your presence to notice the masked man behind him with a knife. “wolf, look out!”

➤ you just barely shove him out of the way when you feel a sharp pain in your side. you instantly fall to your knees, and you can tell wolf hesitates on whether to grab you or chase the man who did this, not realizing you’d just been stabbed

➤ when he does realize what’s going on, wolf would just stare at you with wide eyes

➤ his panic response is always fight, never flight, but he can’t fight this. he stands over you, frozen, for a few moments before calling for help and dropping to your side

➤ “you okay?” he’d ask in a distance voice, more for himself than you, but you know from all the times of cleaning wolf up what to do in a situation like this

➤ you’d have to take wolf’s hands in yours and press them against your stab wound, trying your very hardest to keep calm in this situation, since you can tell by the daze in wolf’s eyes that he’s in shock and won’t be much help

➤ “you’re not going to die. you’re fine,” wolf would repeat, and you’d just nod and focus on your breathing. “i’m fine. you can’t get rid of me this easy.”

donald na. shot

➤ you and donald had been walking home from a date one evening when you noticed someone following you

➤ when you move to warm donald, he only places a hand over yours, catching your eye and shaking his head to signal “no”

➤ that’s when you start to panic, because donald isn’t the type of person to back down or step away from a fight. you assumed it was because you were with him, but donald had seen the light catch on the follower’s hand and knew that this wasn’t something he could punch his way out of

➤ you’d just passed a corner when donald suddenly shoved you forward and turned back to tackle the follower. he had him pinned, weapon tossed to the side, and looked back at you when his eyes widened. “y/n!”

➤ but you’re frozen when you hear something click behind you. there were two of them.

➤ you barely have time to scream when the person pulls the trigger, and white flashes before your eyes as you fall to the ground

➤ donald wastes no time jumping off of the first man to run to you, ignoring the sound of him running away as he holds you in his arms and presses both hands harshly against your shoulder

➤ donald is calculated. he is talented and skilled in fighting. he doesn’t know how to keep calm against a bullet wound in the person he loves most

➤ he’d be too afraid to pull his hands off of the wound to use his phone to call for help, and thankfully a helpful pedestrian would run over and call for you instead

➤ donald would ride in the ambulance with you the entire way there, keeping you talking and laughing as he tried to get himself to stop shaking

gray yeon. glass cut

➤ typically, gray is aware of his surroundings at all times during a fight. your presence threw him off guard and wasn’t something he took into account

➤ you didn’t mean to be there. you had almost been home when you realized you’d forgotten one of your notebooks in your desk and turned back to retrieve it from the school. it wasn’t your intention to stumble upon a fight

➤ you can tell right away that something is wrong. everyone looks too tense, like they’re all afraid of more than just a few bruises

➤ then you see it. on the ground is a boy you recognize from your 1st period, laying in a pool of blood too big to be from fists

➤ there’s another, taller boy standing above him with something clutched tightly in his fist. when he realizes what he’d done, his hands tremble and he runs away from the group. runs right toward you

➤ it was clear by his face that he was scared. it was obvious that this was an accident, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time

➤ you move too slow as you step out of his way, and pain flares in your middle as the broken shard of glass sliced into you

➤ it takes no time at all for you to lose your balance as blood seeps into your once clean white uniform shirt

➤ you were so distracted on trying to apply pressure to your wound that you didn’t even notice gray sprinting toward you, his eyes wet with worry

➤ “what happened, what happened?” he’s repeating his words like a mantra as he falls to your side as assesses the situation. you can tell he’s trying to be brave, but there are tears rolling down his cheeks as he desperately covers your hands with his

➤ he’d be a trembling mess, his mind completely jumbled as thought of stephan fill his head. how he couldn’t help him. he wasn’t about to make the same mistake with you, too

➤ gray would tear the sleeve from his jacket to wrap around your wound and keep pressure with one hand as he calls an ambulance with the other

ben park. ganged up on. beaten

➤ ben can usually handle himself well. even when he’s outnumbered, his focus is only on himself and the men fighting him. not you

➤ the two of you would be walking home from a date one evening when a group of new union members trying to impress donald na surround you

➤ ben would instinctively pull you close to him, and you can’t help but shrink back when you notice how his face hardens and his chest puffs out

➤ “you’re big ben, right?” “…” “so you are! we figured, you know, if we rough you up a little, maybe we’ll get on donald’s good side!”

➤ you weren’t that afraid until more of them started trickling in around you, and soon a group of rowdy teenagers had formed around you and your boyfriend

➤ when the first kid charges, ben knocks him to the ground with a single strike. you aren’t sure what these boys thought they could do, but as more approached, you started worrying for ben

➤ thankfully, he’d been teaching you basic self defense, but you’d never had to use it in real life as he’d always been there to protect you

➤ it happened so fast. more and more kept appearing, and soon ben was overwhelmed. you fought off as many as you could, but when one of the boys threw a brick at the back of your head, you were done and taking kick after kick

➤ ben only noticed when he realized how quiet you’d gotten. when he sees you on the ground, not moving, all he’d see is red

➤ less than a minute later, you’d be in his arms with your body pressed against his chest as he runs to the nearest hospital, begging you to be okay

#weak hero webtoon #weak hero #weak hero manhwa #weak hero class 1 #weak hero x reader #wolf keum #donald na #ben park #gray yeon

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houseoftulips · 2 years

Text

Aizawa Shota: As A Loving Husband

This is part 2 to my series of As A Loving Husband. Here is my first one of Tokyo Revengers, Mutō Yasuhiro - As A Loving Husband

CW: fluff, smidge of angst, aftercare, hero work, children, mentions of NSFW (breeding kink, pet names, spanking, choking, etc.)

Dilf Aizawa x fem reader (two years younger than him)

He greets you with kisses on the cheek first then kisses your lips just because he likes it and knows that you do. You both also happen to have the same scar under your eye that you got for different reasons but sometimes you’d both kiss that scar as a loving gesture.

Despite him looking like he’s very reserved when it comes to feelings he’s actually not. He tells you what he feels whether it’s verbally or physically. Most of the time it’s physically when he comes home after teaching his class full of problem children. He’d usually find you in the kitchen and would wrap his arms around your waist while he nuzzled into the crook of your neck with some kisses.

He tells you he loves you every morning the minute he wakes up because that’s how he told you the first time.

You both give each other massages every Sunday morning just because that was one of the things you both found was good quality time with each other.

When he holds your hand, he caresses your skin with his thumb showing it as a sign of comfort when you’d get anxious around big crowds of people. it also lets him know that you’re there with him too.

He says he doesn’t like it when you bring him lunch during school hours because of the teasing he gets from it but he truly loves it. He also loves the fact that the bento box you got it was black and the wrap was yellow with little black kitten faces, matching his sleeping bag

He calls you kitty, sweetheart, or baby but when he calls you by your government name he’s mad or irritated. Then he feels bad calling you by your name because of the look you carry the minute you hear him say that. Big doe eyes and immediately starts sniffing not out of being a brat or making him feel bad - just because you’re dramatic that way which also still makes you a brat in his eyes.

When you do start crying over him calling you by your government name or due to other reasons, his soft side for you completely takes over. He will quite literally sweep you off your feet and run a warm bath for you. No matter how big or small the reason is for you crying, he’ll always be there to take care of you. Even after a few heated arguments he’ll take care of you because he never wants to go to bed angry nor sleep separate from you.

He lets you and your adoptive daughter, Eri braid his hair and decorate it with hair clips galore. He’s even taken up the challenge of sitting down on a tiny pink chair for an hour while Eri does his makeup for the day. And to make her extra happy, he’ll even wear it at home all day.

He loves how supportive you have been even before you guys started dating. It’s hard for heroes to find someone who truly understands being with a hero and you are one of those people. Yes, you guys have had arguments over hero work but that was out of fear that he may not come back home or that you might get hurt because of villains taking advantage. You’ve been supportive over him being a single dad and taking up the challenge to train Eri how to use her Quirk.

He knew you were it for him when he came home from work later than usual on a weekend. He didn’t realize he forgot to tell you till he walked through the front door and saw you waiting for him. He thought you were mad but when you greeted him with a smile a hug then said “Welcome home even though you’re a little late” with a giggle following after that.

When you’ve come home drunk after work dinners or clubbing, he genuinely laughs at you when you get a bit clingy and bratty. He also laughs at you when you raid your guys kitchen looking for some sweets to eat while he washes your body in the bath he drew for you. He enjoys the fact that you sing - no rather than scream an entire song you heard at the club you were at with your friends every couple of weeks then he’d end up singing it with you after passing him the invisible microphone.

Both of you go at it like rabbits believe it or not. With your breeding kinks and the fact that you act like a brat to get some sort of punishment from him had gotten you pregnant. And what made it more memorable around the time you got pregnant was when you both realized that you had the breeding kink. Aizawa had you flushed against his back as he spread your legs apart hooked over his arms in front of the standing mirror the night you begged him to fill you up with his kids for the first time. “Yeah? You want to milk my cock like a good kitty?” he groaned in your neck. The second he felt the way your cunt fluttered around his cock the rest of that week, you were walking around with his cum dripping down your legs.

He also has a thing for you sitting on his face for hours on end. He didn’t have to fuck you dumb with his cock because his tongue was more than enough for you. And sometimes when he knows you’re to fucked to do anything about it (with consent of course) he’ll slip his tongue towards your tight asshole while he fingered your cunt at the same time. He’s also made you count to 20 while he spanked you for teasing him at his workplace.

He would rather relive the USJ Attack than have you ever near any sort of violence which is why your house is a bit away from the city. But that one time you were caught in the crossfire of an attack, he genuinely thought he was going to lose it because you were 8 months pregnant with the twins when it happened. Him and Eri were in tears hearing that the doctors had to deliver the babies one month early because of the stress your body was under but you all made it. You both welcomed a baby boy and a girl.

He also got jealous when he saw his babies sucking on your tits the first time you fed them at home. He the proceeded to ask if he can “help” massage your tits to cover up the fact that he has a lactation kink. One thing led to another, he was fucking you while he nearly sucked all the milk out of both your tits.

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illumeew · 3 months

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wits' end | k.alberich (chapter two)

Summary: Kaeya was never in love, but he could admit he felt loved.

Tags: Mentions of flings and romance, Slight angst, Hurt/Comfort, Is this a bit ooc? (please tell me if it is or not!)

A/N: ohhh i love kaeya so much he's so sweet and cool !! but sometimes he gets a lil mischaracterized, so i hope i've done him some justice in this one !

< chapter one | chapter three >

“There are two types of ‘tired’, I suppose. One is a dire need of sleep, the other is a dire need of peace. He needed both.”

Kaeya was never in love, but he could admit he felt loved.

No, it wasn’t romantic—he has never exploited the title of being the renowned candidate for grandson-in-law to most of the elders roundabout in Mondstadt, who experienced his selfless determination to protect the city and the nation whole.

To Kaeya, the concept of love has never been an easy topic. Love is complicated, similar to attempting to sit on your own shoulders: you can try, but it’ll leave you hurting and confused wondering why it didn’t work.

“Flings” were another thing he couldn’t understand, but whatever meaning it stood as, it most definitely wasn’t a category in Kaeya Alberich’s dictionary. One thing’s for sure that he’s received enough “complementary hugs” from the people of Mondstadt to know how it feels to be within love’s reach.

Though, despite the number of praise he gets on the daily, never was he once content encaptured in another’s arms.

To Kaeya,

Love is complicated.

Love is an anomaly.

Love is… something someone like him will never understand.

But he tries to be the right person and change, which is why he pays and leaves Angel’s Share as soon as he finishes his drink, the range of how many being between four to even less than two, unlike his past indulgences.

He wanted to become better, knowing a world like this wouldn’t accept and love someone like him. A sinner who has the world against himself.

Tonight, he had two different drinks, both without a single ounce of alcohol mixed into it. This has been a daily thing that servers, Charles and Diluc, would experience with the Cavalry Captain.

At seven-forty-five in the morning, quarter to eight—the usual time for the Knights to come to work—Kaeya enters Angel’s Share and asks for one Moonlit Alley: a mixture of coffee, milk, and cocoa paste. “Just something to get himself ready for a new day” is what he says to the current server of the bar, whether it be Charles or Diluc, to tell him of another day’s order of the same drink.

Both of them probably had it memorized by hand due to his consistency, because recently, as soon as Kaeya enters, the drink has been already made and set out on the counter, still hot and fresh, as if just finished and waiting for his arrival.

He’d reach for his wallet, grab the needed mora, give it to the server, then walk out taking a small sip of the drink before heading for the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

His schedule cycled every single day; wake up, get ready, grab a Moonlit Alley, go to work, then go back home, and restart.

At one point in his life—or maybe not just one point but a few, he felt lonely doing it all by himself. To tell the truth, he has no one to come home to, so how could he change his life? Someone can’t just walk in and tell him with all their honest joy, “Welcome home, Kaeya.”

Though, he wished he had someone to greet him by the door. Anyone.

He sighed and dropped the feathered pen, letting it roll across the papers scattered in front of him as his elbows slammed gently onto his desk, and he let his fingers run through his already tousled hair from how many times he’s done this. It was thirty minutes before midnight, and the pile of paperwork didn’t seem to look any fewer than it was four hours ago.

The Acting Grandmaster and the Librarian, Jean Gunnhildr and Lisa Minci, just clocked out just from the sound of the Mondstadt Library doors clicking shut, following suit by multiple footsteps that, Kaeya assumed, belonged to the two and the knights that guarded the doors to the library. His office was just above the library, and hearing the main doors close made him want to have agreed to Jean’s request to clock out with her and Lisa.

His stubbornness outweighs his sense of self.

Outrider Amber and Eula Lawrence ended their shifts an hour before they did, as did Chief Alchemist Albedo an hour earlier than them, rambling on about to himself how he has his own research to finish back at his camp in Dragonspine. He came to pick up Klee just before and walked her to the house her mother, Alice, had rented for her. He waited for her to sleep, which took a whole three hours, and then he went to the snowy mountain after tucking her to bed and kissing her good night.

He told her, “Another day has yet to come, for both you and me” as he stared at her sleeping form like she was the younger sister he could have ever wished for. That was something Kaeya only ever experienced when he was a kid, when his father would tuck him and his brother into bed, whisper the great things they’d done today, and kiss their foreheads good night before, too, tucking himself into his own bed a room across theirs.

The memories of whatever it was he felt genuine love was lost in time.

He grabbed each of the scattered paper and brought them together, grounding them on the table before setting them aside. He put the feathered pen on top of the stack, and deciding that he was too exhausted to even lift another finger, he crossed his arms on his desk and laid his head on top, and he sighed.

Though the large window behind him had curtains to shade him from the moonlight, he could still feel the wind blowing strands of his hair onto his eyepatch. But with the black cloth obscuring his right eye’s vision, he had no problem with the wind’s disturbance to the odious side of his two-faced artifice.

He soon drifted asleep, just without the praising whispers and kisses good night.

#genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin scenarios #genshin kaeya #kaeya headcanons #kaeya alberich #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya imagines #fiction #illumeew's works #genshin #writing #writers on tumblr

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valreadsfics · 2 years

Text

molting

♡ pairing: chan x reader

♡ description: the room was full of silent, dead air. the ceiling was becoming less interesting by the moment, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from it.

♡ length: ~1k

♡ warnings: a bit depressing, a few food mentions, symptoms of depersonalization disorder (dpd)

the room was full of silent, dead air. the ceiling was becoming less interesting by the moment, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. the last few hours were spent thinking things over, turning them around in your mind like a rock tumbled in a stream. the edges were smoother, worn down from time, but altogether unrecognizable compared to what it once was.

you, too, felt unrecognizable. felt as if the world itself was the stream and you were the pond, turning over and over, losing some facets and gaining others, never sure of what would remain the next month, year, decade of your life. things had changed so quickly even in the last year of being with chan, you couldn’t even recognize the you that was in the photos from that long ago.

you looked back at the wall of your shared apartment, the polaroids taped up on the wall. ones of chan and you, out on dates. one of felix, when he’d insisted on baking for your anniversary (and chan reminded him that it was his and yours, not felix and yours, which you thought was funny). one from jisung’s birthday when you’d planned a surprise party and jeongin had smushed jisung’s face into the cake. a collection (at minho’s request) of soonie, doongie, and doori. (of course, a few of kkami, bbama, and berry as well, but nowhere near as many.) a multitude of memories, showcased on the wall, of moments you’d spent with chan and his little family. in each one, you found it hard to recognize yourself, felt like you were looking at a stranger. you knew, somewhere inside you, that it was you; you remembered these moments, remembered being there for them… but the images on the wall appeared more like a stranger’s diary, a collage of moments in someone else’s time.

your eyes trailed back up to the ceiling as you continued to half-heartedly count the specks on the paint. the door opened, and you saw (the top of) chan’s curly hair poked over the edge of the sofa. he greeted you, “hi, y/n, i’m home~”

you could’ve teased him with an ‘obviously,’ but you didn’t have the heart. “hey, welcome back.”

he stepped closer after toeing off his shoes, lifting a brown sack and shaking it. “i brought dinner.”

you weren’t sure what he brought, but you figured it was good. any food is good food. you smiled, but it doesn’t quite make it to your eyes. he set the bag down, and flopped on top of you on the couch. a wheeze escaped you, “ugh, you’re heavy.”

“rude!” he said, only being playful, his dimples on full display. “you hungry?”

you nodded, even if you didn’t feel that hungry at the moment.

there was a smile on his face, a little tender, a little soft. it fell slowly, as he started to take in your features, the moment he’d walked into. you, on the couch, staring at nothing, not as playful as usual… chan knew he could be a bit exuberant at times, strong, loud gestures and broad strokes of affection. he reeled himself in back to the slow molasses moment, pressed a cheek to the top of your head, rearranged you and him to hold you close. he could recognize this from a mile away. he knew you too well for it to pass unnoticed.

“you’re hurting, aren’t you?” he asked.

you nodded.

“same stuff?”

you nodded.

he sighed, but said nothing. not a sigh of disappointment at you, a sigh that the world could not be a little more tender to you.

“you don’t deserve it, you know,” chan said. “and you shouldn’t let it sit so deep in your heart.”

your voice came now, sounding strange in your own ears, “i know.”

“why do you let it eat you up?” he asked.

“because that’s all i know.” you looked down at your lap, at chan’s arms around you. “all i know is letting things eat me up until i disappear completely. once i come back, i’m a different me, and i don’t recognize it.”

he listened, but said nothing.

“every few weeks, i molt. i become a different, adjacent me. you still see me as the same one, but inside things are different. all of my guts are in the wrong spots, my feelings in incorrect proportions, my thoughts in a code i haven’t deciphered yet. and right when i get everything back where it goes, when i get everything balanced, when i crack the code…”

“it changes again,” he finished for you, in understanding.

you nodded.

“and then i start all over again. and… i’ve become so good at camouflaging it that people start to believe that the signs of my molting are instead indicators of who i am. they see the shedding skin and tell me i look thinner. they see the cracked exterior and tell me i’ve become more open. they see the blood and tell me i look pretty in red.

“i look in the mirror and i no longer resemble myself. i feel like i wear myself as a costume, as a means to appear like i am normal. i look at the reflection and don’t recognize it. who is that stranger? who is that creature, with the sunken eyes and the blood? surely that can’t be me.”

the silence fell again, thick but not heavy. your words floated off into the room, before disappearing completely.

“it gets so exhausting, trying to figure out everything, and it never gets easier. i never can seem to learn the right way around, the best way to solve it. i’m just…” you started, then your voice cracked a bit. “i’m so tired. i don’t know who i am, anymore.”

chan spoke up after a long time, truly listening and understanding your words before responding. “it is you.”

“what?”

“the person i see in front of me. that’s you. that’s my love, my precious y/n.”

you couldn’t meet his eyes for a minute, but the tender smile lingered long enough that you finally did look.

“i’d recognize you anywhere. over and over again.”

his next comment was rather soft and doting. “i can recognize you. you molt, you change, you metamorphose right in front of me, but… i see it. all the steps in-between the last and the newest. you’re always you.”

“but what happens if i change too much?” you blurted. “and you can’t recognize me?”

chan shook his head immediately. “that’ll never happen. you’re always my love.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #;;val.note #;;bangchan #;;hurt.comfort #;;comments-#i hope this is ok! i know it's a little depressing but i've not been doing the best #so i ended up writing some channie comfort bc i need some myself tbh!#anywho lots of love.. rbs and comments are appreciated <3

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heliads · 2 years

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hello! i was wondering if you could possibly do a spot conlon x reader where they're really good friends but she sees him getting a little chummy with another girl (but its only bc he wants to sell a pape but she doesnt know that) and so she becomes a little distant and when he confronts her, feelings come out and all

spot conlon is my boy my man my idol

masterlist

This is the part where it all breaks down.

This, right here, watching him talk to her, is where all of your carefully tied ends come undone, where your quiet afterthoughts revert back into raging storms. You had been doing so well up until now. You had been happy, if not blissful than certainly a meager sort of content, and then you had seen it.

This is also not where all of this begins. You are starting in the middle, finding the center of the storm, the worst destruction of your life. This is not where it starts, even if it feels like it all might end right here, right now. There is more before this, and before you can stop yourself, you pull it back to you.

There is a moment of spinning through time, and then your memories conjure up the perfect image of how it had all been. It is rare for girls in Brooklyn to survive by themselves on the streets for as long as you have, even more rare for them to seek a job amongst the masses of the newsies. You did both, and you did so quite admirably.

You can picture the memory just before it flashes before your eyes. He emerges out of gray haze and swirling inconsistency, walking briskly down a cobblestoned street that forms before your troubled gaze. Red shirt, bright as blood. Sharp grin, terrible as a knife. How he’d welcomed you with open arms.

It is unusual to look at a stranger and know immediately how much they’ll mean to you, but you’d swear a thousand times that you felt that sort of strength with Spot Conlon the second you laid eyes on him. You had heard scores of rumors about the brutal leader of the Brooklyn newsies, enough of his soaking kids for nothing but crossing his path to doubt even your own powers of persuasion.

When you’d tracked him down all those years ago, though, Spot hadn’t greeted you with fists but a smile. He admired your persistence, your unwillingness to take no for an answer. You’d told him outright that you would be working with the Brooklyn newsies before he could so much as ask for your name, and that was that.

Normally, Spot would never take that sort of insolence, but he must have felt something of the same strange familiarity as you did, because he just laughed like a drowning man and handed you the very cap off of his head as a job offer. He’d told you to never talk to him like that again, of course, but both of you knew he didn’t mean it.

The happiest time of your life had started there, with that laugh. Dark curls falling into dark eyes, a hand extended towards the newsies’ Lodging House and a declaration that it would be your home so long as you’d not get bored of it. You knew enough to tell him that you’d never tire of it, and Spot had said that he’d hold you to that promise. You have yet to break it.

It is something entirely different to find your best friend. It creeps up on you slowly, most of the time, a bond that weaves itself in the dead of night, not letting itself be known until you wake up at midnight and realize that you are not alone and never will be.

It was like that with Spot, despite your strong starting point. You blinked once and he was trusting you unconsciously to watch his back during a fight. His colors were your colors without question, and you could not shake free from him if you tried. You don’t know that you ever will, no matter how much it hurts right now.

The problem with such a quick friendship with Spot is that you never stopped trying to get closer to him. It wasn’t enough to merely own the title of being his best friend, you wanted to defend it, to get to a higher rank within his heart. Soon enough, that meant you started loving him, and that was your first and most treacherous mistake.

Spot Conlon is not capable of this sort of love. He had told you so himself, one dark night when the two of you had stolen drinks from a closing bar and taken them up to the roof of the lodging house. Both of you were past the point of no return when Spot had turned to you with a graver look than a dead man and told you that he would never, could never love. It was not in his nature, or so he claimed. He could never afford it to be in his character to love.

You had thought that it might have been an apology, if he had used his knack for always knowing what was on your mind long enough to realize what sorts of thoughts were forming there. Was he warning you off, when Spot said that he couldn’t afford a single weakness, not even if he wanted one? Or was he just taking care of loose ends?

You suppose you’ll never know. He’s proven himself wrong now. This is the sight that breaks you, after all, when you are dragged back to the present day and find that not a single circumstance has changed. You had been selling papes, and turned a corner to find Spot all but hanging off of a pretty girl from down the block.

The worst part is that it isn’t just a momentary lapse. Spot has been getting closer and closer to this girl all week, you’ve seen it happening. Today is the worst offense, though, and you watch as his hand rises to carefully brush a curl away from her face from where it’s fallen down from her updo. He leaves his fingers there, coiled against her collarbone, and the smile on his face is nothing like you’ve ever seen before.

Spot Conlon has never lied to you, so long as he could help it. Spot Conlon has just lied to you now, because you knew what he said when he told you he could never fall in love, and you’ve just seen that contradicted before your eyes. This is love in every form of the word. You can see the truth of it whipping around the two of them, drawing them to each other. It could never be anything else but love.

You turn hurriedly and head back the way you’ve come, but no matter how far or fast you walk, you can still see the sight of it burned into the back of your mind. Perhaps Spot should have tacked on an addendum to his declaration on that drunken night: he could most certainly love, he just could never love you.

The agony of it dogs your steps, pulling you down the longer you live with the truth. You manage to sell the last of the day’s papers despite the fact that you feel as if you couldn’t force a smile if you tried. Maybe your misery makes the disasters of the headlines all the more credible, forcing coins into your palms despite your lack of enthusiasm, or maybe the city wants to be rid of you and would send any customer into your path so long as it would let you leave faster.

Regardless, you make your way back to the lodging house at last, the setting sun at your back. The lights are already on inside, and the shouts of the other boys hit you like a brick wall the second you slip inside the door. Despite the camaraderie of seeing your fellow friends, you can’t convince yourself to join in their jokes, so you head upstairs without another word.

There’s another reason to confine yourself to sleep earlier than normal, too. Usually, you would wait for Spot to return so the two of you could debrief on the day’s sales, but you don’t think you could face him without seeing that girl tucked around him. Spot comes by the bunks later that night, and you hear him pause by your bed, but you refuse to open your eyes and he ends up slipping away once more.

You had hoped that the day’s miseries would lessen with the dawn, but time heals few wounds, and least of all yours. A new morning only brings a new wave of resentment towards you, for falling in love with the one boy who would never have you, and bitterness towards Spot, for being so perfect in all ways bar one.

It takes everything in you to just wave a quick greeting to Spot across the crowded room when he locks eyes with you, and talking to him outright is out of the question. You hurry off to buy the morning’s papes before he can track you down, and spend the rest of the day trying to avoid all of his usual selling places.

It hurts to be without him. Spot’s absence cuts like a blade, but even that torture is nothing compared to thinking of how delighted he had been when curled around the girl from earlier. Besides, he couldn’t be missing you, he’s got her to keep him company. The only one currently suffering is you.

That’s what you intend to believe, at least, but you only manage to go about a week before Spot takes matters into his own hands. You’ve grown suitably capable at making sure your days rise and fall without Spot being a major character in them, but when the King of Brooklyn sets his mind to something, he always gets his way.

So, when you take up your usual selling spot at the corner of a major road and Spot finds you within about half a second, you can admit that there will be no losing him. That doesn’t stop you from trying to distract yourself with customers so Spot can’t find a moment to talk to you. All he does is wait for the temporary rush to fade, and then he’s upon you.

You keep your eyes carefully trained on the horizon, searching for buyers that aren’t there. Spot folds his arms across his chest, irritated that you’re not paying attention to him.

“Are you going to avoid me all day?” He asks, obviously bothered.

“Only as long as you keep pestering me about it,” you joke.

Spot doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond, but Spot’s clearly in no mood for games.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he counters, “You’ve been avoiding me all week. Look, just tell me what’s wrong, alright? We can fix this, easy.”

You make sure your face remains studiously neutral. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

Spot scoffs. “That’s the worst excuse I’se ever heard. There’s clearly a problem, just spell it out already. I don’t like this distance between us.”

“Neither do I,” you whisper. Unfortunately, Spot hears.

He spreads his hands. “Then tell me what’s wrong, and we can solve this. We always solve things like this, that’s how we work.”

“Yeah?” You ask, “Well, usually there aren’t other girls involved in how ‘we work’ now, are there?”

Spot blinks in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Your lips tighten. “You don’t have to lie to me, Spot. I saw you with that girl. I know what it means.”

He stares at you, baffled. “What’s wrong with me talking to a girl?”

This makes you lose the last of your composure. “What’s wrong with– Spot, the problem isn’t that you’re talking to a girl, it’s that you’re in love with her.”

There, the truth at last. You’re not sure that it’s made either of you any happier to hear it.

In fact, Spot looks even more upset than before. “Love her? Y/N, I don’t love her.”

You laugh bitterly. “Of course you don’t. That’s what you promised me, you know, that you would never fall in love. Do me a favor, Spot, if you’re going to lie to me, don’t do it over something like that.”

Spot’s voice is soft. “Why would that matter?”

You look away. “Because that girl isn’t the only one who’d like to have your heart, Spot.”

Silence descends upon the street. You’re almost certain that he’s going to walk away from you when his hand touches your cheek, gently turning your head to face him.

“I don’t love that girl,” he says calmly, “I was flirting with her. Didn’t mean a thing. All I wanted to do was make sure that she was going to keep on buying papers from me instead of resorting to some other seller.”

You arch a brow. “And you expect me to believe that the display I say was just the result of harmless flirting because—”

“Because of this,” Spot returns, and kisses you.

It takes your breath away. At first, you do not know what to make of it– could it be a ploy, perhaps, some folly of your mind and eyes to deceive you into thinking that the boy you love actually loves you back– but no, it is true and it is happening and you could not be happier.

When he breaks away, you’re almost too overwhelmed to say a thing. “What,” you manage to gasp, “was that?”

He has the audacity to grin. “That was me explaining things. If you like, I can do it again.”

You try to glare at him. “You’re too proud of yourself, you know that?”

“How could I not be proud,” he asks, “when I’ve just realized that you love me too? I didn’t think there was a chance of it. In fact, I took steps to make sure there wasn’t. That night on the rooftop, I was trying to convince myself that I wouldn’t fall in love with anybody as much as I was trying to tell you. I couldn’t afford to lose your friendship.”

“You haven’t lost it,” you reply, “far from it. Although I’ll have you know that I heartily disapprove of you flirting with other girls to sell papes from now on.”

“Very well,” he says, “but you have to stop flirting with other boys to do the same.”

You pretend to consider this. “I don’t know that I could do that.”

“Then I shall have to give them a reason to keep their distance,” Spot claims, and kisses you again. This time, you know well enough to believe it, and allow the feeling to sweep you away.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#spot conlon #spot conlon imagines #spot conlon x reader #spot conlon oneshot #newsies #newsies imagines #newsies x reader #newsies oneshot #newsies spot #newsies spot imagines #newsies spot x reader #newsies spot oneshot #newsies live #newsies live imagines #newsies live x reader #newsies live oneshot

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hexusproductions · 2 years

Text

Smaugust 2022, Day 12 - Free Day (2)

Characters: Ozzie Shepherd, Derek, Devon (POV character)

Prompt list: Found here

Free Day - There are four free days total on this prompt list, because the OP requires them for an independent project. For #2 I wanted to show a different side of Ozzie.

Devon knew that he’d fucked up. It’s why he was shaking as he was escorted by the arm behind an apartment building. The backside of the building was vacant, besides garbage bags piled against the wall, and a woman leaning in the back entryway, enjoying a smoke break. A wall ran along the adjacent side, too high to scale if Devon tried to make a break for it. His feet dragged on the ground, but the grip on his arm was vice-like, leading him forward and out of view from the general street. Derek, the man with the hold around Devon’s arm, nodded to the woman. The woman put her cigarette out under her shoe and went back inside the apartment building. Devon’s eyes widened, before he and Derek came to a stop.

“Sorry we’re late.” Derek apologised. Devon’s head whipped around to follow Derek’s line of sight, to a figure standing before them in the dull light from the lamp attached to the building. The figure folded their umbrella and stepped forward. Devon swallowed, his blood running cold as he recognised them.

“H-Hi, Ozzie.” He stammered, attempting a smile that wobbled too much on his lips. He already knew that he couldn’t feign innocence, but it couldn’t hurt to hope being polite would help smooth things over. Ozzie’s gaze rose to meet Devon’s, his eyes cold and his painted lips drawn into a flat line.

“Hi.” Ozzie returned the greeting, but there was an absence of welcome in his voice that made Devon wince, “It sure took a while to find you. You weren’t trying to run, were you?” Devon glanced towards Derek, Ozzie’s bookish-looking ghoul. He didn’t look like he was going to be any help, so Devon tried to make a dismissive pshh sound.

“Who, me? No, I would never.” He shook his head, feeling clammy with sweat. He then, almost immediately, switched to apologetic. “I just want you to know that I’m very sorry, what happened at the pier was my fault, my bad, and I’ll never do something like that again.” Ozzie shushed him, raising the umbrella in his hand and resting the tip on Devon’s cheek. Devon swallowed, trying to pull his head away, but there was only so far he could retreat with Derek’s grip on his arm.

“I don’t need you wasting my time with apologies, mate.” Ozzie snapped. He took a breath, and the moment of aggression subsided. “All I asked was that you deliver a package, a task I assumed even an idiot could accomplish. Are you an idiot, Devon?”

“No. No sir.”

“No.” Ozzie remarked, as if he were saying it to himself. His wrist tilted, pushing the umbrella forward ever so slightly, and digging the tip into Devon’s cheek. His eyes widened again as he felt a droplet of blood pool and drizzle down his cheek from where the umbrella connected. “But then you had to go and run your fucking mouth to your buddies about how you thought you were ‘in’ with a good crowd, and now my package is a soggy mess washed out of the ocean.” Ozzie stepped closer, keeping the umbrella angled so it stayed in place. Devon felt a cold chill overtake him, too frightened to take his eyes away from Ozzie for even a second.

When he had initially approached Ozzie to offer his services, Ozzie had been inviting and kind, as if the two of them had been friends for years. Devon had then been offered odd jobs here and there over the next few months, compensated for both his service and his confidentiality, the latter of which Ozzie had always emphasised was of great importance. It was because of Devon’s friends pestering him over the course of those months that he had finally hinted at the kind of rewards his ‘part-time job’ was giving him. His friends had then accidentally passed on that information to the wrong people, who’d tried to rough Devon up at the pier and had led to the package being thrown into the sea in the scuffle. He thought he could avoid Ozzie for a few days, until it all blew over, but apparently that hadn’t been the case. Of course it hadn’t. And Ozzie’s friendship only reached so far.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, love.” Ozzie nodded. His free hand raised and patted Devon’s other cheek, Devon flinching with each light impact. “You’re sorry. That information was important, and now I have some very important people breathing down my neck for something I can’t give them. And I can’t go back and tell them that I can’t give it to them.” Ozzie removed both his hand and the umbrella, and Devon sucked in a relieved breath, as if he had been strangled. Ozzie nodded to Derek, who also released his hold on Devon and stepped back. Devon’s gaze flicked from Derek to Ozzie and back again, searching for whatever unspoken exchange had passed between them. Ozzie clicked his tongue, resting his umbrella on his shoulder as he shook his head. “Oh, Devon, you are a disappointment.” The hair rose on the back of Devon’s neck, and his foot slid backwards, an involuntary movement to prepare him to run.

“Better luck next time, right?” Devon suggested. Ozzie laughed, and he should have taken that as reassuring, but it felt anything but.

“Next time?” Ozzie questioned. Devon froze, and then his feet moved, body beginning to turn. Ozzie’s gaze fixed on Devon’s. A glint passed through his eyes, and his smile twisted into a snarl as he spoke a single word, “Kneel.” The air seized in Devon’s lungs, his joints locking mid-movement. He stared at Ozzie, mind whirring with panic as his knees shook and bucked, bringing him down to the paved ground. Deep within himself, he knew he should be leaving as fast as possible, moving anywhere, but he couldn’t resist Ozzie’s command. Ozzie had that same cold, uninviting expression on his face, only now, he was able to look down on Devon beneath him.

“I hate being disappointed. Maybe ‘next time’, possum.” Ozzie lowered the umbrella to his side, grip firm on the handle. Devon’s heart raced as he babbled pleas, apologies, refusals. Ozzie lunged forward and speared the umbrella into Devon’s throat. The sharpened tip pierced the flesh as easily as a blade, dark blood spurting and pouring from the wound. Devon gurgled and clawed at the umbrella, trying to pull it free even as he could taste the metallic liquid at the back of his tongue. Even as he struggled to save himself, his eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from Ozzie’s. He had both hands on the umbrella handle now, jamming it further into Devon’s neck. His teeth were bared, and Devon swore he could see pointed fangs. Those baby-blue eyes, pretty and innocent, were burning with malice as they bore into the wound tearing open. Devon was losing blood, fast, it was spilling down his shirt and making his hands slippery as they gripped the umbrella’s folded canopy. Ozzie wrenched the umbrella out, sending an arc of blood through the air that stained the pavement. His weight no longer propped by Ozzie and his weapon of choice, Devon curled forward, folding in on himself and slumping onto his side. Darkness was closing in around his consciousness fast, slipping further and further away from the backside of the building where no-one could even see him, could even see what Ozzie had done. He could hear voices, Ozzie’s and Derek’s.

“Oh, god.”

“Do me a favour and help me put him over there. Someone might find him before the morning.”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you hun. You’re a peach.”

Devon twitched, mouth still shaping words he couldn’t speak. His hands were soaked, curling around the sloppy mess left of his throat. The darkness overtook him, and the last thing he saw was Ozzie’s boots. The growing pool of blood stained the toes, a perfect match to the stained umbrella hanging beside them.

#OC #original character #my writing #Smaugust 2022 #Ozzie Shepherd (OC)#blood #blood tw #character death

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uglysockperson · 3 years

Text

Elims first bloom

#i have an angsts story i was thinking of when i drew this #something along the lines of garak being taken from home for obsidian order training/school? obviously not a good time #must feel terrible to be dragged away with mila knowing she can do nothing for him and thus not fighting to keep him #as well as tail probably glaring at him with no thought of letting the boy have a moments peace #elim thinks of the few plants he had growing on #miles sill and can only think of how dead and gross they mist be mila would have tossed most of them by now #when he comes back for the few days between on planet work and sending him to a moon he comes to fine the single plant the survived Thad #bloomed and though elim didn’t feel like crying then no one was happy to see him back .#it didn’t hurt him to not be greeted into welcoming arms because he’d never had that #but the thought that his little plant was waiting for him and bloomed in time for him to see it had him crying because maybe for the first #time someone was waiting for him to come back and was happy to have him #anywayyyyy my own succulents did not Handel Summer well #elim garak #star trek

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purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

request if open; daddy!bucky had a bad day and little!reader is just trying to comfort him but he accidently lashes out and yells at her/pushes her and immediately feels guilty but she regresses even more into her little space and is scared of him, you can kinda play around w this and figure out how it ends! xx

Pairing: Mafia!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x f!little!reader

Word Count: 3,423 (you know you love me)

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, yelling, harsh treatment, crying, angst turned fluff?

A/N: thank you so much for sending this in, nonnie. i took your request and ran with it to angst land. Hope you enjoy xx💜

~~~~~

signature needed

“Dada,”

She could see Bucky’s frown, the lines on his forehead wrinkling his handsome face up. She knew it meant he was upset and she never wanted Daddy to be upset. She knew he never left her upset.

Bucky’s been looking like that since he walked through the mansion door that morning, barely acknowledging her when she greeted him. He almost forgot to give her her welcome-home kiss even.

“Not now, angel,” Bucky murmured, proceeding to flip through the papers covering his desk, huffing and puffing every now and then at the mess he was stuck trying to fix.

“Wanna show you somethin’,” she whispered, biting back a smile.

“Later, angel. I’m busy right now.”

He regretted telling her to come in. He should’ve known she’d be nothing but a distraction.

“Dada, jus’ take one look,” she bounced on her feet before slipping a neat sheet of paper on top of Bucky’s desk, momentarily blocking his view of the contracts he was angrily staring at. Now that made Bucky mad.

“I said I was busy!” Bucky shouted as his head snapped to her, his hand slamming down on the paper without even seeing it, blindly crumpling it and throwing it on the floor at her feet. She flinched at the sudden outburst, taking a step back.

“Dada,” tears filled her eyes as she looked at her discarded paper. Bucky just broke her heart.

“Why don’t you ever listen!” Bucky grabbed her arm tighter than usual, pulling her back to him, “How many times do I need to repeat the words for you to understand! I said not now, didn’t I?!” He let go of her arm with more force than he’d intended, making her stumble a little.

She was terrified now. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at Bucky with wide eyes. He has never lashed out on her like that, not even when she was big. She was scared. As her breath picked up, she wished she’d never left her playroom.

“Get out and don’t step into this office again until I tell you you can, you hear me?” Bucky growled, oblivious to the signs of regression and horror showing on her face.

Her quick nods set off no alarms in his head as he watched her run out of his office.

Bucky felt bad about taking his anger out on her the second she fled the room. He flopped back down with a huff, flipping through the contracts again and again with no focus. He threw them down carelessly, running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

Cracking his hurting neck, Bucky regretted raising his voice at her. He couldn’t see the words on the contracts; her teary eyes flashing through his mind every time he tried reading.

Why did he have to yell? He could’ve just looked at her paper. She was likely trying to show him a drawing. Why couldn’t he just go with it? He’s sworn he’d never let anybody hurt his angel and then he goes and does this?

Bucky was ashamed. What kind of Daddy was he if he treated his little like that? It was no excuse that he was still getting used to being a Daddy. Bucky knew that wasn’t how a man should treat his girl.

He bowed forward, picking up the balled paper by his desk. He carefully straightened it, deciding to fix his angel’s damaged drawing and make it up to her.

Only it wasn’t a drawing; the paper was a handwritten Daddy-Angel contract. It even had colourful flowers, bees and butterflies decorating the paper and everything.

She was probably trying to play office with him; probably just wanted Bucky to pretend he was signing her paper too.

A sad smile spread across Bucky’s lips as he read the paper. The contract stated that

- Dada will smile

- Dada will not be angry no more

- Dada will let me sit on his lap (will be quiet pp)

- Dada will play with me after work

Dada: ……………..

The paper ended with a free space for Bucky to sign in case of agreement to the ‘terms’.

There were a lot of moments where Bucky wished he could turn back time, but not being able to do so in this very moment seemed to torture him the most. He was an asshole.

She just wanted him to calm down. She respected that he was working and she wasn’t trying to interrupt, she merely wanted him to smile. She even pinky promised to sit quietly in his lap.

Bucky has messed up and it was for nothing because the damage to his work has already been done. He shouted at her like she was responsible when she was just trying to help him feel better.

Bucky got his pen out of his pocket, signing the empty place by his name, remorsefully sighing at his utter stupidity.

“Angel,” Bucky called, knocking on the door before opening it.

She wasn’t in her playroom, but Bucky could see her round table full of similar papers to the one he had folded in his pocket.

She’s made at least 6 of these ‘contracts’, some of them were written in different colours or had spelling mistakes.

She’d obviously worked hard until she settled on the paper to give him and he ended up throwing it on the floor.

Bucky’s hand rubbed his face, frustrated at himself and his lack of control. An asshole was what he was. An asshole.

“Angel, where are you, baby?” Bucky sighed, opening the bedroom door to see her sitting, hugging her knees on the large bed.

She looked too tiny bundled up like that and her muffled sniffles punched at Bucky’s heart.

“Angel.”

She only lifted her head up when she felt the bed dip under Bucky’s weight and panic flashed over her delicate features.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Bucky said, his hand instinctively moving to wipe her tears only to have her flinch back, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was awaiting a blow.

Bucky’s heart stopped beating for a second when he realized what had just happened.

She was scared of him. His angel had flinched away from his touch. A huge lump formed in Bucky’s throat as she opened her eyes again, “angel?”

“Please don’ hurt me. Won’ come to the office. Won’ leave the room.” She shook her head and sobbed, scurrying back on the bed and away from Bucky.

This pained Bucky more than any punishment he thought he deserved. The look on her face was enough for him to want the walls to open up and swallow him.

“Angel, I would never hurt you. You know that.” Bucky whispered, sniffing back the tears about to spill down his bearded cheeks.

He needed to hear her say she did. He needed to know she knew Bucky could never hurt her.

She looked from Bucky to her left arm where his metal hand had grabbed her earlier. His fingers had left a mark around her arm. The skin was still pulsing as if his hold on her never loosened.

It was too late and it didn’t matter what he said because he’d already hurt her and the evidence was on her body.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed as he swallowed again. He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to be the one protecting her, not the one hurting her. How could he do such a thing to his angel?

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, shaking his head regretfully before trying to get closer to her.

Her instant reaction was to crawl back further and Bucky’s heart sank to his stomach. He felt his soul leaving his body when he looked her in the eyes and saw fear.

A tear betrayed him, falling down, gliding by his lips. Bucky wiped it away quickly, sniffing and clearing his throat.

“I signed your contract, angel.” Bucky got the paper out of his pocket, opening it and putting it on the bed for her to see.

Her eyes looked down and more tears left them at the sight of her once fine work now ruined.

“I’m so sorry, angel. Daddy was bad, baby. I’m sorry,” Bucky pleaded, his fingers reaching out for hers.

She pulled her hand away quickly, hiding it behind her back and Bucky knew he had really messed up. It was no use trying.

She was scared of him. His touch frightened her and was no longer a symbol of comfort to her.

He took his hand away, straightening his back and getting off the bed.

“I-I’ll see you at lunch then.” Bucky sniffed again.

“And angel?” he called from the door, getting her attention.

“Thank you for caring for daddy. I love you.” Bucky has never heard his voice as weak as he did in that moment and he felt even worse when she didn’t say it back.

When the table was set and Bucky came out of his office to find her chair empty, another lump was quick to form in his throat.

He wasn’t even hungry. He had no appetite to eat; he just wanted to see her but didn’t have the guts to peek into their bedroom again.

“Angel?” Bucky was ready to knock on the bedroom door but it was already open.

He carefully pushed it and took a look inside to find the bed empty. He tried not to freak out as he knocked the en suite bathroom door and got no answer. When he opened it, she wasn’t there either.

Bucky could hear his own blood pumping in his ears because she was no where to be found in her playroom as well.

She left. She left him and she had every right to. How could he lose her? How could he lose the one good thing in his life?

Tears distorted Bucky’s vision as his hand clutched the side of the door. His heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her again, never hearing her sweet voice call for him again; never getting to smell her on his pillow again.

The sound of her feet padding on the floor behind him pulled Bucky out of his head and he thought he’d imagined it for a second. He turned around and she froze when his eyes fell on her.

She shifted on her feet, hiding one behind the other and internally hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice she was roaming around with bare feet when he’d specifically asked her not to before.

That was the last of Bucky’s concerns at the moment though. He was just relieved she didn’t leave him even if he deserved it.

“Where were you, angel?” the tenderness of Bucky’s tone let her know he wasn’t mad at her for walking around shoeless.

“Couldn’ fin’ PinePine,” she replied softly, referring to the white feline, “’s lunch time.” Her eyes remained fixed on her feet as she avoided Bucky’s.

He was secretly thankful for that, not wanting her to see him in tears twice in the same day.

She was so pure; so caring and loving to everyone around. Bucky found himself slightly jealous of his own cat for a second there.

“Where did you find, PinePine?” He asked calmly, just wanting to hear her speak to him.

“Downstairs,” she answered shortly, leaving Bucky disappointed.

“Let’s go then. The table’s set.” Bucky smiled, hesitantly offering her his hand.

She stood unmoving for a few seconds, eyes still casted down, before she decided to hold onto Bucky’s pointer.

He sighed, knowing she was still scared but didn’t want to reject him. She was so sweet on him even when he least deserved it.

When lunch was over, Bucky let her know she could come to the office whenever she wanted, although he doubted she would. She gave a small nod before running back to the other room as Bucky shouted an “I’ll get back to work then.” behind her.

He didn’t actually get back to work. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think of anything but the way she pulled away from his touch every single time he tried to come near her, or the way she forced herself to hold one of his fingers as they walked less than 10 steps together to the dining room. She'd even begged him not to hurt her earlier.

How did he let himself fuck up so bad? When did they get there? What was he going to do now? How does one get forgiven after being this awful?

A lamp lit above the mafia boss’ head and he grabbed a clean sheet of paper before he could lose the idea.

Bucky was going to write his angel a contract. A pardon contract.

His Daddy-Angel 2.0 contract stated that:

- Angel will forgive Daddy

- Angel will not be sad with Daddy no more

- Angel will sit on Daddy’s lap (even if she doesn’t wanna be quiet)

- Angel will play with Daddy after work if she still wants to

Angel: …………….

Bucky sighed as he tried to draw anything other than sloppy hearts in the empty places around the words to decorate the paper but he was terrible at this. He was desperately in need of his angel’s forgiveness though so he scratched his beard and kept working.

Bucky needed to know she wasn’t actually scared of him; not her. Anyone but her. He wouldn’t be able to take it. He wouldn’t be able to ever tolerate himself if she didn’t forgive him.

Bucky’s tongue was hanging outside the side of his mouth as he drew another birdie on the bottom of the contract. It didn’t really look like a bird, unless of course that bird was struck by lightning a hundred times before, but Bucky thought it would do. After all, he was no artist. He didn’t draw. He didn’t deal with colours; he dealt with weapons. His hands were rough for a reason. But he would do anything for his angel. Anything to win her over again.

A knock on his door cut off his focus and Bucky groaned.

“Come in.”

He felt sorry for whoever had the bad luck of interrupting him during his contract-making, ready to yell at someone.

Bucky looked up from his desk when he didn’t hear anyone speaking, and his face has never softened so fast.

It was his girl who’d come into the office. She had her folded contract in her hand and her eyes were looking kind of puffy from crying.

Bucky just stared at her in remorse, pushing his chair back a bit as he watched her walk closer to his seat.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He was so sorry. He’s never been sorrier in his life. He wanted nothing more than to take every word and every harsh touch back.

She stood there for a second, waiting to see if Bucky was going to kick her out this time too. When he didn’t, she rounded the desk and stopped by Bucky’s chair.

Bucky remained speechless, not wanting to scare her away again. She came to him. She came on her own. Unless she came to throw the contract in his face and break up with him, that should be a good sign.

Her tongue peeked outside, wetting her lips nervously before she stretched an arm out, ever so carefully nearing it to Bucky’s thigh. Her gaze was glued to Bucky’s face, gauging his reaction. When Bucky’s frown didn’t show up she let her palm touch Bucky’s leg.

Bucky didn’t understand what she was doing but he wouldn’t dream of questioning her. He was just glad she was okay with touching him again at all after what he’d done, even if she was doing it so cautiously it broke his heart to a thousand pieces.

With her stare trained on Bucky, she stepped forward, slotting herself in the small space between Bucky’s chair and his desk, facing him. Her hands moved to grab on Bucky’s strong shoulders, still watching his face. She swallowed before effortlessly climbing on, cozily curling herself on his lap.

Bucky’s heart swelled as he felt her nose nuzzle his shirt. His own emotions overwhelmed him and tears gathered in his eyes.

“Angel?” his voice was barely a whisper as he looked down to her, careful not to startle her.

She looked up at him worriedly, thinking he didn’t want her where she was.

Her eyes showed fear for a short second before she unfolded the scrunched paper in her hand, a finger pointing to the third term.

“Dada signed,” she said, her eyes so innocent and Bucky couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“Oh, angel,” Bucky’s tears uncontrollably rolled down, wetting his beard.

He held her so close, she could hear his heartbeats drumming in his chest.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Bucky cried, wetly kissing her forehead over and over.

“I’m sorry, my angel. Forgive me,” he repeated, leaning down to kiss her bruised shoulder before lifting both hands to his lips and kissing them, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Dada,” her smaller hands cupped Bucky’s cheeks as sadness covered her features.

She’s never seen Bucky like that. Not even at his father’s funeral did he sob like that.

She didn’t know it but to Bucky, the thought of losing her hurt more than the actual loss of a family member who never gave two shits about him.

She was Bucky’s everything. His love, his partner, his companion, his baby angel. She was the one who stole his heart and took good care of it. Bucky would give up anything and everything in life and choose her to forever keep, protect and love.

Her short thumbs wiped under Bucky’s eyes, pushing his tears away. She turned to straddle him and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

The smell of her hair calmed Bucky’s heart down as he turned his face to kiss her head, hands settling on her back, “I will never hurt you, angel. Please tell me you know that, my love.”

Bucky’s hoarse voice had her pulling away from the hug. She sat back and looked her man in the eyes, her thumb brushing his chin, “I know,” she whispered and Bucky could see it in her eyes. She did. She believed him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

She stroked Bucky’s cheeks as he sniffled, smiling gratefully at her reply. And his whole world lit up again when she smiled back, timidly pecking the corner of his pink lips.

Oh she was a real angel. No one’s ever been this kind to Bucky before, only her. Bucky kissed her hand one more time, quietly thanking her for forgiving him.

“I made you a contract too,” Bucky told her with a chuckle, pointing to the desk behind her as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, her smile reaching her wide eyes. She turned around in Bucky’s lap, planting her knees on the chair between Bucky’s open legs and stood on them to take a look.

She took her time reading the words and then she was off Bucky’s lap and bolting out of the room.

The man was about to lose it again, thinking she’d remembered his cruelty towards her and changed her mind when she came running back inside the office.

She climbed back on the chair between Bucky’s thighs, her glitter pen in hand.

Bucky sighed in relief, his lips spreading with an adoring smile as he watched her write her name letter by letter in glittery ink where her signature was needed. Bucky held her waist, kissing her back as he admired how focused she was.

She closed the cap on the pen, placing it on the desk before picking up the contract to show Bucky.

“Angel signed,” she beamed, plopping herself against Bucky’s chest and clinging to him, earning a hearty chuckle from him.

“I love you so much, angel. More than anything in the world.” Bucky gently held her face by the chin, giving her lips a short kiss.

“I love you too, dada.” She smiled, blushing as she hid her face in his chest again.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him and closing his eyes, just enjoying the feel of her body against his once more, silently promising his angel to never hurt her ever again.

Tags:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

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sukirichi · 3 years

Note

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead. “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy.

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

4K notes · View notes

hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

Wat if katsuki actually had a s/o that loved Key word LOVED him but.....

Then when he started getting to aggressive and starts hitting her she suddenly stops all the love and affection. And that makes katsuki so confused and angry bc he like 'wtf why did they stop huggin and kissin me when I get home from my matches'. Then his darling becomes very depressed is and cooped up in her room all the time. So when katsuki friends come over they wonder where y/n is.

Tw:abuse, implied dubcon, depression

“Babe, you’re home!” You rush over to the door when you head it unlocking, arms outstretched already or embrace his wounds.

But when the door swings open you’re met with a scowling Bakugo who shoves you aside so hard you fall to the floor.

He grumbles and throws his bags down, kicking mud off his shoes onto the carpet as he glares at you.

“This place is a pigsty. Why the fuck didn’t you clean?”

You laugh nervously and raise an eyebrow. “Uhh, ‘cause I was out all day too? I just got home an hour ago and I was tired. What’s with you? Why’re you in such a bad mood?”

Katsuki’s eyes widen until they’re the size of dinner plates. His nostrils flare and his fists resume the same position as they do in the ring.

“You talkin’ back to me now?”

“What? No, you literally just asked-“

Crack.

The sound of him backhanding your cheek reverberates around the apartment, and you hold your face in shock.

It’s not so much the pain of him striking you that hurts, it’s the fact that this has been happening for a while now that aches the most. Nothing you do-no smiles, no amount of love you showed him in, no sobs or pleads-sways him.

You love him, it’s true.

But it’s hard to love him when he looks at you like that.

“Get the fuck up. And clean all this shit up, the next time I come home to this filth I’ll make the clean the floors with your tongue.”

He grabs you by your hair and throws you face-first onto the tile area, taking his own sweet time to turn around and walk to your shared room.

After you clean for hours until the place is spotless, you retreat to bed.

He’s on his phone typing away with a slight crease in his eyebrows, but he looks up at you as you walk in.

“Hey. You done?” He has the audacity to ask in a gentle voice.

“Mmhm.”

You don’t look at him as you begin changing your clothes in the restroom and close the door behind you.

His frown deepens at that. You’ve never shied away from being vulnerable and naked with him.

To test his doubt, when you walk back into the room with your head still down, he leans forward as you sit down on the mattress, your back turned to him.

You shut off the lights in silence as he reaches a hand out and curls it around your shoulders.

“C’mere, ‘wanna feel you.” He mumbles in his raspy sleepy voice.

But to his utter confusion, you gently brush his hand off and continue your journey to tuck yourself in bed.

With your back still facing him.

“I’m tired Katsuki. Not in the mood.”

His hand is still suspended in midair, his facial features still frozen in his initial shock as he’s left in a pitch black room which is suddenly overcome with a freezing cold creeping up his spine.

He’s too wounded, too shocked and shot from his ego to be irate.

You’ve never said no to cuddling at night. Never. So what was wrong now?

You were taking his anger so well for a while, what the hell was the matter with you?

But he doesn’t touch you again that night. He barely sleeps a wink to your usually comforting sound of soft snores and little mumbles in your sleep talk.

In the morning his lack of sleep gets the betterment of his temper, and he lashes out of you again in the shower.

You’re washing your hair when you feel a cool breeze against your bare body. You open your eyes and see Katsuki standing in front of you outside the glass door to your shower.

You feign an eye roll and merely grab the handle trying to close it shut.

He doesnt even let it budge. He just snarls down at your intruding hand and yanks the door back even further, pulling you along with the force.

You yelp and slip on the floor, falling unceremoniously at his feet.

The look on his face is frankly terrifying, much worse than yesterday’s. Bakugo slowly steps in along with your quickly reversing body and closes the door behind him, trapping you inside with him.

“Why’d you try to close it on me.”

It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Then get up and touch me.”

He’s towering over your cornered form, his fists dangerously swinging next to your head.

Your limbs don’t move though. Your heart thuds slowly, your love ebbing away from him with its slow rhythm.

You already know how this is going to turn out, but you try anyways.

“Please Bakugo, I’m really not in the mood right now.”

“Oh, so it’s Bakugo now, huh?”

Your body disassociates so you don’t feel it as much, but unfortunately your hands still flinch above your head in instinct.

“If you’re-thud-sorry, then you’ll fucking-crack-touch me you-smack-ungrateful bitch.”

Your cries are loud, but not loud enough to drown his roaring out, not enough to mute the sound of his hands cracking above your shaking body.

He leaves the shower unfulfilled in his heart and in his dick.

His mind is in shambles.

This is the longest you’ve wanted space from him, he could understand an hour but half a day?

He has a rude awakening when “half a day” becomes a couple more days, then a week, and then it’s half a month since you’ve willingly kissed his battle scars and loved him with your whole being.

He says willingly because otherwise you eat his hits up like you’re just another fighter in the ring when he gets angry at your apathy. The only restraining factor that differentiates you and the men he puts in coffins is his desperation for you to come back.

To no avail though. If you’re not keeling over on the ground or pinned underneath him and molding your anatomy to the shape of his fists, then you’re still as a corpse on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you were anywhere else but here.

Bakugo doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what to feel.

Rage is consumed by paranoia, paranoia is swallowed whole by depression, depression is swept away by panicked desperation.

His hair starts falling out, his punches grow weaker and he comes home with more and more bruises every day to match the ones littering across your body.

One might wonder whose the real fighter-him or you.

And so one day when he can’t stand it anymore, can’t stand the silence and tension that’s so palpable you could taste the iron in the air, he invited his friends over.

He need the distractions. He needs happiness, a word that doesn’t seem worthy of his pathetic being.

He’s more pathetic than your unmoving body.

“Heyyy man!” Sero and Denki exclaim in obnoxious unison and throw their arms around Bakugo’s shoulders. All three of them barrel through his half-opened doorway and practically topple him over.

The air of excitement is so foreign to him, but oh so welcoming.

“Hey,” he grunts back awkwardly.

“You’ve never really invited us over without Y/N dragging you by the ear for it. How is she by the way? Haven’t heard of her in a while.” Kirishima nudges his shoulder.

But before he can open his mouth Denki cuts in. “You knock her up yet? You sly bastard, no wonder you’re hiding her from us. The gigs over Y/N, show us that beautiful belly!” He cups his hands around his mouth and the quip slashes through the air and infests Katsuki’s heart. It’s a mockery, a cruel reminder of what he cannot have.

When their friend doesn’t answer and merely walks off, the boys behind him awkwardly look at each other.

Usually he’d explode at them or at least chase them around the room.

And usually you would come out to greet them.

Katsuki was wrong.

You weren’t different from him anymore.

Because when he accepts that not even his friends can release his stone cold heart from its catatonic confines, he’s never felt more in sync with you than he has now.

#mha #bnha #mha angst #bnha angst #bakugo angst #katsuki angst #bakugo x you #yandere bakugo x reader #tw:abuse #tw: implied noncon #bully bakugo #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugou

2K notes · View notes

endlessnightlock · 2 years

Note

14 for the prompt please? 🥰

This doesn’t hurt, does it?

Under the cut because the length got out of hand in addition to some moderate sexual content.

Everlark in Thirteen featuring kidnapped but not hijacked Peeta.

Katniss lays in the narrow District Thirteen bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the low hum of the overhead lights. No one else seems to notice the sounds she hears. Sometimes she wonders if the doctors somehow did improve her hearing when they fixed her left ear after their first games. Maybe she’s just crazy, though.

She thinks the lights out are in a few minutes, but it’s never totally dark in the underground compound. Some auxiliary light is always on, and usually, she’s glad for it. The only nightmare worse than being buried alive down here are the ones where you’re still here but suffocating in endless blackness.

Tonight the gloom would be welcome, at least for a while, because she’s waiting on Peeta to come to bed, the first time they’ve been alone at night since the soldiers rescued him. Katniss spent the whole time he was gone aching for him to hold her and ward off the nightmares in his strong arms. But now that he’s here, she’s nervous. They haven’t talked about them or what they are to each other, yet here they are, sharing a bunk. She can’t sleep alone anymore, knowing he’s here.

The walls of this bunk are so thin. Katniss rolls onto her side, trying to settle her restless mind. As a distraction, she visualizes Peeta’s making his nighttime routine. Using the sounds he makes, she tries to determine how much time she has before he comes out.

Remembering the steps Peeta takes is an easy task; they never vary. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since his time in a Capitol holding cell. His habits aren’t obsessive tics to give him a sense of control after having his brain shot to hell. Peeta always was a creature of habit.

The toilet flushes, she hears water running down the sink, and moments later, Peeta flips the bathroom switch off before joining her in the main room. Their new living space is an all-purpose area, with a narrow double bed, tables, and chairs, constituting most of their living space.

Katniss holds her breath when Peeta reaches the bed and pulls the covers back before lowering himself to the mattress with a pained sigh. She remembers his amputation site bothers him more at night and can only imagine how much worse it must be after his time in a Capitol cell.

In her mind, she weighs the merits of whether or not to let him know she’s awake. She’s scared of being alone with him again, but it has nothing to do with wanting Peeta here; she never wants him out of her sight again after losing him.

Katniss spent six weeks leading up to his rescue, slowly losing her mind. When he arrived emaciated, hurt, and confused, it set her back in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Peeta was standoffish; instead of greeting her with overjoyed kisses like she assumed he would. He’d seemed frightened of everything. Their first meeting was stilted and uncomfortable, and their interactions haven’t been better since.

See, she’d always counted on him to be the easy one who carried the conversations and said charming things to her, but Peeta doesn’t seem to work that way anymore. That leaves her ashamed of her inability to pick up the slack and the hurt she’s clung to since Peeta arrived, not openly thrilled to see her. She’s ashamed of wondering if he’s gone through too much and changed so that he no longer has it in him to love her.

It doesn’t matter because she will never stop loving him. She’s stuck with it.

When she can get away, Katniss still hides in storage closets, skipping out on training, and wonders why she misses Peeta when he’s only a few floors away. When the medics discharged him from the hospital this morning, she surprised herself by insisting he shares a bunk with her. Peeta couldn’t look at her when she spoke up, but he didn’t argue with the living arrangement. He had no one else.

Her subconscious seemed to be working more efficiently than the rest of her mind these days.

Peeta turns, pulling the covers back to slide into bed next to her, and his immediacy strikes Katniss, his weight on the mattress next to her, his body heat at her back. She smells the scent of the shampoo he used washing in the bunk’s tiny shower, the kind District Thirteen hands out to everybody. Somehow it’s different on him. Better.

Peeta rolls onto his side behind her. When he touches her arm tentatively, Katniss knows she can’t fake sleep. Instead, she shifts onto her back as the overhead lights go out, leaving them in the nearly dark room.

“Why did you do this?” he asks, tugging on the blanket, indicating he means them, here, together.

Katniss senses that Peeta’s really looking his fill of her for the first time since his rescue. His face is shadowed, propped up on his elbow the way he is, while she knows hers isn’t disguised at all. She’s not sure she likes it. It feels like a disadvantage.

“I know you feel guilty because I was left behind when you and Finnick were rescued from the arena, but that doesn’t mean you had to do all of this. We don’t have to pretend to be together anymore. I can figure out my way on my own now.”

His tone is careful and quiet, and it breaks her heart. Peeta’s trying to let her off easy. He's always been kinder than her. But also, he’s establishing distance between them, and she doesn’t like it.

But Katniss isn’t going to make it easy for him to keep her away. If he doesn’t want to be here with her, she’ll make him admit to it. She’s too broken to start that conversation and say any of the negative things she thinks out loud.

Until Peeta makes the break, she’s going to soak in the steadiness and heat in the presence of the one she loves who she never thought she’d see again. Having Peeta here with strings attached is better than not at all but he’s still going to know it’s hurting her.

“I can pack my things in the morning if you don’t want me here. I’m sure my mother will let me move back in with them,” she says, rolling onto her side and facing the opposite wall to hide her damp eyes. She does nothing to disguise the devastation in her tone.

Of course it’s a miserable failure like everything else she does. If Katniss had anywhere to escape to right now, she would. But Peeta might follow her. That’s the sort of thing he does.

“What about Gale?” he quietly asks, surprising her.

Katniss closes her eyes and sniffles. “What about him?”

“It’s okay to be with him now. I know how you feel about him. You don’t owe me anything.”

“You’re an idiot,” Katniss says bitterly, drawing the covers up to her chin, rolling further onto her side. That’s not true at all—she knows who the idiot is, and it’s not Peeta. It’s her. It took losing him to realize how much she needed him, and now she’s driven him away with her earlier indecision.

Peeta is silent at the insult, and the tension goes on so long it begins choking her. “That’s a real nice thing to say to me, after everything I’ve been through,” he finally mutters. Katniss hears him shift in the bed, rolling onto his back.

Despite her heartache and bitterness over making this attempt to be close to Peeta and having it rejected like it’s not good enough (she knows it’s not), Katniss manages to fall asleep next to him. They both hug the sides of the mattress to avoid touching each other.

While her mind knows full well that Peeta doesn’t want her anymore, no one bothers to tell Katniss’s body that. When she wakes from a nightmare, she reaches for him. She’s sobbing, needing to reassure herself he’s there and safe.

Maybe it’s because she’s out of control, terrified, but when Peeta sits up with her, trying to calm her, Katniss can’t pretend to be angry. Instead, she climbs into his lap and clings to him. “Don’t ever leave me,” she sobs, “don’t you dare. I need you.”

“It’s alright,” Peeta murmurs, rubbing her back, shushing her like a baby with soothing sounds against the top of her head. Maybe his body hadn’t caught up to his brain, either Katniss thinks, because he’s holding her like he used to when he loved her.

“You don’t need me. You just think you do,” he insists softly. “But it doesn’t matter. If you want me here, I’ll be here. I’m not going to leave you.”

Katniss shifts far enough away to make out his face in the green-tinged gloom. Peeta wipes the remaining tears on her cheeks away with the back of his hand.

“Feel better?” he asks, smiling kindly at her.

“A little,” she says, feeling drained and raw. “You didn’t forget how you used to hold me, did you?”

Peeta sighed. “I’ve never forgotten anything about you. You haunt me, you know that?”

They lay back down and this time Katniss won’t let him roll away from her, so Peeta remains on his back while she cuddles up to his side.

They lie together while he drags his fingertips up and down her arm, leaving a trail of puckered skin behind him, stirring the sensations in her that started on the Quarter Quell beach and never went away.

“I don’t want Gale,” she tells him, wondering whether or not he’ll ever believe her now. “He’s my friend. I know how I felt about him confused you in the past.”

“Katniss. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Peeta murmurs.

But she does.

It’s easier to let her thoughts flow out now instead of later when she’s rolled her feelings back in and had a chance to talk herself out of going all in with this.

Peeta handed her the chance to keep him around without changing their relationship. She can’t, not when she remembers his ache to be needed, the other side of missing being loved and wanted by him.

Katniss isn’t willing to let him keep the role of comfortor and nothing more. She doesn’t want that.

So she tries again. “I need to say this; you don’t get it. I care about Gale—how could I not? Our friendship is built on survival and trust. But I don’t love him. I don’t want him with me all the time like I do you. I don’t want to kiss him. I don’t want him to hold me.”

Peeta sighs and she doesn’t know what that means. His heart rate speeds up beneath her ear, and she’s not sure if he’s angry or what he may feel. Without warning he rolls onto his side, taking her off his chest, lying next to him. Now they’re side-by-side in the bed, noses inches apart, able to see each other better in the dark.

The way Peeta’s looking at her says a lot.

“I really missed you,” Katniss whispers, her voice shaky. She strokes his cheek with her thumb.

Peeta’s forehead drops against hers and he pulls her closer. “Me too,” he says, his breath on her skin warming her heart and making her limbs quiver against him. “Thinking of you was the only thing that got me through it.”

So he still cares.

That makes everything easy.

It’s effortless when Katniss turns her head one way and Peeta turns his the other and their lips meet in the middle. Heat blossoms in her belly and moves out through her veins when his mouth parts hers the same way it did on the beach during the Quarter Quell. He sweeps her up again with his kisses and touches and it’s all the same, beautiful, forceful like those waves breaking on the shoreline, but better.

Katniss rolls onto her back and drags him with her. She wants to drown in the sensation of being with him, his weight on her body, anchoring her to the bed and this moment where she has him back. “Am I too heavy?” Peeta murmurs, trailing kisses down her neck. “This doesn’t hurt, right?”

In answer she tugs at his waist until he settles between her legs, his weight pinning her to the bed, his arms caging her in. She’s falling backward through a cloud of sensation, being swallowed up in it. “I need you here. Don’t go,” she insists.

The things they do are exciting and mostly new. On the beach Katniss touched Peeta’s body, threaded his hair through her fingers, felt his hardness against the back of her thigh. Until tonight she hadn’t taken his hand and placed it on her breast, never rolled her pelvis against his covered erection, never writhed against the bed when he pulled her nightshirt off and kissed every inch of her body.

Between deep back and forth, come-back-I-miss-you-already kisses they undressed each other on the bed. Katniss kept the nagging thoughts that maybe they should talk before doing this back. She was done talking for now, ready to burst with happiness that they were finally here, together. She was done being cautious.

Once they were undressed and skin to skin Peeta hovered over her. He’d touched her everywhere but here and now his fingers were between her legs rubbing, caressing, exploring. She moaned and whimpered beneath him as he tried to make certain she was ready. When he’d left her throbbing, impossibly wet and ready to come undone, she pulled him down by his hips. “Please,” she murmured in his ear, ready to be as close to him as she could get.

After the burn of connecting and the act of finishing, Katniss wouldn’t let him go, no matter how heavy Peeta was on top of her. He tried to move. He was bigger than her but her legs were strong.

They weren’t going anywhere. He was safe. She was safe.

“You came back to me.”

#endlessnightlock writes #she's a bit long for an #everlark drabble #everlark #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark #I'm on a roll just wish I could apply it to WIPs #lol

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Drunk

A/N: Hope you enjoy, bit of cheese, bit of fluff! Been in my draughts for ages!! Hope you all enjoy 💕💕

Warnings: Swearing.

Summary: Tom takes care of his girl when she has a girl’s night out.

W/C: 4.5K... Yeah idk how it got so long either...

Tom watched as you fixed your hair before turning and looking at him, excited look on your face.

“How do I look?” You asked as you twirled for him.

“Beautiful, as always.” Tom answered easily, you really did. Your dress stopped just below your thigh, black tights covering your legs and a pair of heels to finish it off.

“You sure you don’t mind doing this?” You asked as he picked up his car keys and opened the door.

“Do I ever?” He said back, he was dropping you off for a night out with your friends and he’d said he’d pick you up.

“I know but I hate the idea of you waiting up for me, I haven’t seen them in a while and it might get late.” You said as you bit your lip following him to the car.

“I already told you, it’s fine. How many times have you picked me up from a night out?” He asked and you smiled as he opened the passenger side door for you. That smile was enough of a thanks for Tom.

“You’re the best you know that?” You said as he got into the driver’s side.

“I know.” He said and you snorted. “Just promise me you won’t let your phone die this time.” Tom smiled as he set off.

“I charged it this time.” You said and held up your phone screen as if to show the evidence.

“Good, that was a nightmare having to chase you around.” He laughed.

“Look, if you weren’t a celebrity I’d have been able to borrow a stranger’s phone to call you.” You shrugged and he smirked.

“You also probably shouldn’t have gotten split up from your friends.” He teased.

“That wasn’t my fault, I already told you, one minute they were there and the next they weren’t.” You said and Tom laughed as he shook his head and reached over for your hand.

“Just as long as you have a good night okay. You’ve earned it.” He said as he pulled up outside the bar you were meeting your friends in.

“I’ll try. Thank you Tom, you really are the best, if you want me to get a taxi just text me.” You said and he lent over as he placed a kiss to your lips.

“Not happening, I like to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he kissed you again.

“I do it when you’re away filming.” You said, you really didn’t want to put him out.

“Yeah and I always make you call me don’t I? Gotta make sure you get home safe.” He said and you smiled as he placed a final kiss to your lips and then a kiss to your cheek. “Now, go, have fun. I’ll see you in a while.” He said as he watched you leave the car, god knows how drunk you were going to get tonight.

Tom did his usual routine when he was on pick up duty, he got a good nap in before midnight to ensure he’d stay awake, a couple of coffees to help after he’d woken up. He knew you were having a good night, he’d received three photos and a video, smiling and shaking his head as he observed them.

The first two pictures where from you and they were fine, just ordinary pictures to let him know you were still okay, you told him it was easier than sending him a message. The third picture he’d received from your best friend, you were sat at the table with two drinks and two straws in your mouth as you drank from the two drinks. Your friend having captured it “we told her she was slacking,” he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips, firing back a few of the heart eye emojis in response.

The video he’d received five minutes ago, from one of your other friends, told him you were indeed having a good night and you were going to be rather drunk when he picked you up. You were with your best friend and you were sat at your table singing your heart out to some absolute shite as you swayed, voice louder than when he’d dropped you off.

It was almost three am when he received four illegible messages from you that he knew it was his cue to put his shoes on and grab his keys, he was opening his car door when your name flashed across the screen.

“Hi darling.” Tom said, he could hear the chaos of the club you were outside of.

“Hi Tommy.” You said louder than you usually would and he smiled as he sat in the car. “I tried to ring but I kept getting it wrong.” You huffed and Tom laughed.

“That’s what those messages where about?” He teased. He didn’t miss your friends shouting a greeting down the phone at him either. “Where are you?” He asked as he started the car up.

“Outside that club, I can never remember its name, you know that one.” You said and he could tell you were trying to be quiet as you said it, failing but trying, and Tom smirked.

“Oh, that club.” Tom said. You’d once been out drinking together and ended up in this particular club’s bathroom together. “I’ll be ten minutes.” He said as you exchanged ‘I love you’s’ before he hung up and set off.

Ten minutes later and he found you outside the club with your friends and you were hammered. Tom laughed as he watched you sway as you tried to keep your balance, approaching you, watching the way your eyes lit up when you saw him.

“Tommy!” You practically shouted as you threw yourself into his arms and placed your head into his chest. “I missed you.” You mumbled as he brought his arms around you. Your three other friends were in just as bad of a shape as you.

“Come on, let’s get you guy’s home.” Tom said as he watched your friends stumble to his car, he looked down at you and you smiled up at him.

“My feet hurt.” You said and he laughed, he knew what you wanted, you liked to be in his arms when you were drunk, more so than usual.

“Do they?” Tom said and he watched as you nodded enthusiastically before he turned around and let you hop onto his back. Your arms slung around his shoulders as you kissed his cheek. He unlocked the car, watching as your friends climbed into the back seats. He got you into the passenger side with ease before getting back behind the wheel.

“Y/N, what have you done to this boy?” One of your friends asked. “My boyfriend doesn’t do that.” She huffed and you laughed.

“That’s because your boyfriend is an arsehole.” You said and Tom laughed, you pulled his hand into your own and played with it in your lap as he drove, not in the direction of home because he knew what was coming next. “Can we go to McDonalds?” You asked suddenly, gaze shifting to look at him.

“As always.” Tom answered and he watched as you turned to your friends and fist pumped.

“See, I told you he’d drive us there.” You said, Tom laughed, it was a ritual when you got this drunk to have McDonalds, he didn’t need to ask what you wanted. “Tommy’s the best.” You said and your best friend laughed.

“He’s whipped, no offence Tom.” She said with a smile.

“Can’t argue if it’s true.” He said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe he admits it.” She said again. “Y/N? Where did you find this guy?” She asked and you shrugged with a smile.

“I don’t know, but I’m not sharing.” You said and your friends burst into a fit of giggles as Tom smiled at you.

“But we’re best friends!” She teased.

“We are and I’ll share anything else with you just not Tom.” You said firmly and Tom laughed as he pulled into the much-loved fast food parking lot. “Yes!” You said as you got out of the car, Tom laughing as your friends followed.

“I thought your feet hurt.” Tom teased once he’d caught up and you looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“They do.” You said as you fell into his arms, waiting for Tom to place the order because he knew you’d get it all wrong, too drunk to read the screen properly. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his chest as you waited.

“You’re welcome.” He said as he kissed your head, you snuggling further into his chest. He eventually encouraged you to sit in the booth with your friends as he got your food. Once you were all done, he got you all back into the car, yawning as he sat back behind the wheel for the final time that night.

“I found something out tonight Tom.” You said, you had hold of his hand again as you rested it in your lap and Tom looked at you humming for you to continue. “Y/F/N has a crush on Harry, she told me.” You said and Tom laughed as your friend reached behind your head and slapped it playfully.

“I told you not to tell him!” She announced as your friends fell into a fit of laughter.

“I told you I tell him everything.” You laughed as you brought his hand up to kiss the back of it. “Besides, Tom would know if Harry had a crush back.” You said loudly and Tom laughed again.

“I don’t.” He clarified.

It wasn’t long before he was listening to you all reminisce about your night, fits of laughter filling his car as he dropped both of your friends off, the only drop of left being your best friend.

“Shit.” She exclaimed and you looked round at her.

“What?” You asked.

“I forgot my bloody house door key.” She groaned.

“Just call your boyfriend.” You shrugged and she laughed sarcastically.

“No, if he’s asleep there’s no getting him up. He doesn’t wait up for me like this one.” She said and Tom watched as you frowned.

“I don’t know why you don’t just leave him, he’s awful.” You said and she hummed in agreement. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, she can stay at ours.” Tom answered easily and you smiled at him. He would quite literally do anything for that smile.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the house, Tom helping you get out as your best friend followed you both. You were on Tom’s back again, as you played with his hair, and he opened the door. He let you down and watched as you hastily took your shoes off and threw them to the side, Tom putting them where they belong.

“Where’s my baby?” You asked as you tore off into the living room, Tom laughing as you stumbled.

“Thanks again Tom.” Your best friend said and Tom smiled before encouraging her into the living room. He was not surprised to see that your haste to get in there was because of Tess. You were on the floor with her and cuddling her as she ran her tongue up your cheek.

“I missed you.” You were saying as you cuddled her. Tom’s heart did flips as he watched you interact with her. He loved watching the two of you. You turned around after a while and looked up at Tom with a lazy and sleepy smile. “I’m tired.” You said as you rubbed your eyes, almost like a child.

“Okay, bedtime then.” Tom said as he lifted you effortlessly from the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you encouraged your friend to follow you upstairs.

“Guest bathroom is there, your bedroom is there.” You said sleepily as you pointed to both rooms in question. “If you need anything just help yourself.” You yawned as you laid your head on Tom’s shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” You finished and Tom smiled as he kissed your temple, listening as the two friends said their good nights.

“You smell of something incredibly bloody sweet.” Tom said as he grimaced slightly, catching a very strong smell that clung to you.

“Some guy spilled his cocktail on me.” You said through a yawn. Tom lifted his hand and ran it through your now messy hair, getting to the tips and feeling the sticky liquid. “He was a dick.” You added. “Tried to dance with me. I told him to fuck off but he didn’t listen.” You said and Tom’s hands on your thighs tightened slightly.

“What happened?” He asked as he took you into the bathroom of your shared bedroom. Placing you on the counter.

“Y/F/N threatened him and he did a runner.” You laughed and Tom shook his head with a small smile. “He was just annoying and a complete dick.” You said as your head fell back against the wall with a thud.

“Yeah, he sounds like it.” Tom said as he wiped your face with a wipe, taking off the make-up. “Are you okay though?” He asked seriously.

“Yeah.” You said as you cupped his face and brought him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He returned easily. “Come on, you need a quick shower.” He said.

“But Tommy it’s like four am and I’m so tired.” You said with a huff.

“I know darling but you’re very sticky and you have to get into bed.” He reasoned, knowing it wouldn’t help your hangover tomorrow to have the stench of alcohol clung to you. He encouraged you off the counter, laughing as you fell into his chest, your body giving into the drunken and tiredness it was feeling.

He lifted your dress to your waist and got on his knees as he pulled your tights from you. You held his shoulders as he placed a firm hand on your waist and helped you to get out of the material, laughing as you huffed in frustration, hands tightening around his shoulders as you swayed. He pulled your underwear down before standing to full height pulling your dress up and over your head.

“What happened?” He asked as his thumb ran over a very prominent bruise on your hip. You just shrugged in response; you had a habit of walking into things even when alcohol wasn’t involved. He encouraged you into the shower, taking his own clothing off as he joined you.

“You gonna have your way with me Tommy?” You asked with a cheeky smile and he shook his head as he put shampoo in your hair.

“Not tonight sweetheart.” He said and you hugged him, it made it awkward to wash your hair but he went with it.

“Why not? You did the other morning.”

“You weren’t drunk the other morning.” He reminded your drunken state.

“I’m giving my consent.” You said and Tom huffed out a laugh as he moved onto washing your body.

“It doesn’t work like that baby.” He said as he kissed your cheek.

“You’re too good.” You said, Tom was having a hard time now keeping your arms from him, he needed you to stand still so he could wash your body. He was careful, cautious as he made sure you were okay and didn’t slip.

“No sweetheart, it’s what everyone should do.” He said as he lifted your leg to wash it.

“I feel like my ex would have.” You were rambling now, saying things as they came to mind.

“Well he was a twat.” Tom said, he really had a dislike for your ex, he’d never met him but the way he’d treated you was awful. You laughed at his words, agreeing as he set your leg down, helping you out of the shower once you were clean and drying you off.

You made your way into the bedroom and Tom smiled in endearment as you went straight for his t shirt drawer and pulled out your favourite when you were drunk. Tom would never admit he washed it this morning so you’d have it for tonight. Your eyes lit up as you brought the material to Tom who pulled it over your figure with a smile.

“Come on.” Tom said as he moved you into bed and onto your side in case you were hit with a sudden urge to throw up. He watched as you snuggled into the sheets, almost childlike and his heart flipped at the sight. You were adorable. Tess made her way into the room, jumping up to sleep at your feet, she’d missed you this evening.

“Tommy?” You mumbled quietly as he got himself ready for bed, voice laced with sleep.

“Yes my love?”

“Cuddle?” You said and he joined you instantly, you snuggled back into his arms as he held your back against his chest. “I love you.” Where the last words you spoke before your breathing completely evened out.

It was 2 pm when Tom woke up, your figure clung to him, he smiled at your peaceful form, carefully removing your arms from him as Tess stood.

“Tess, no. Leave her be, come on.” Tom said as he encouraged his dog out of bed with him, she huffed but listened. He wanted to make sure you got all the sleep your body wanted you to have. “Come on.” Tom encouraged quietly once he was dressed, making his way downstairs.

“Hey.” Your best friend greeted as she saw Tom. “Sorry, you guys weren’t up and I needed coffee.” She said as she placed a hand over her face.

“S’okay.” Tom huffed a laugh as he boiled the kettle. “How’d you sleep?” He asked as he let Tess into the garden, leaving the door open for fresh air that he was sure your best friend probably needed.

“Pretty well, I woke up like four times thinking I needed to be sick but your beds are so comfy, I wish I was rich.” She laughed and Tom smiled as he shook his head. “How’s Y/N/N?”

“No idea, she’s still asleep, probably gonna feel horrendous though.” He laughed as he made himself a brew.

“First thing she says when she gets up?” She asked and Tom raised a brow. “My bets on ‘I’m never drinking again.’” She laughed.

“My monies on ‘where’s Tess.’” Tom said as he sat next to her at the kitchen table.

“Let’s see who knows her better then.” She teased and Tom gave a ‘you’re on’ before sipping his brew. “Have you thought about, you know?” She asked and Tom furrowed his brows.

“About what?” He asked for clarification.

“You know, proposing?” She cleared up and Tom put his mug down.

“Yeah.” He shrugged and your friend smiled as she looked at him.

“How long have you been together now?” She asked. “Like 2 years?”

“Three next month.” He said and your friend smiled.

“You really do look after her you know?” She said and Tom shrugged.

“She does the same for me.”

“You didn’t have to look after us you know; her friends aren’t your responsibility.” She said.

“Yeah but, it’s good to make sure you all get home safe, I’m not a dick.” He laughed.

“True. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Always.” He said as they fell into silence.

“So when are you thinking of doing it?” She asked and Tom laughed.

“Next month.” He said. “Got her dads permission already.” He said and your friend teasingly glared at him.

“What about mine?”

“Oh sorry. May I?” He teased back and she laughed.

“Yeah, you’ll do.” She laughed before groaning and holding her head. “Wait,” she suddenly said. “You mean you’re gonna do it when you take her on holiday?” She asked.

“Yeah, got it all planned out.”

“Tell me.”

“I will, just not when there’s potential for her to walk in.” Tom laughed and your friend nodded. They chatted away for a while, Tom offering her some food which she declined politely. It wasn’t long before Tom heard movement upstairs, moving to grab the glass of water and pain killers he knew would be needed.

You walked into the kitchen, shorts now on your legs to accompany his shirt, your eyes still looked tired and your hair was a mess on top of your head but Tom still found you beautiful, you looked incredibly hungover though. You didn’t say anything as you made your way to Tom who handed you the glass of water, smiling as you took it and sat in his lap.

Tom and your friend watched in anticipation as you downed the water and pain killers, before looking around the room, Tom smiled, already knowing what was coming.

“Where’s Tess?” You croaked out, voice probably hoarse from all the singing you’d done last night.

“Goddam.” Your friend said with a laugh and Tom gave her a look that said ‘see.’ As if she knew you were awake, Tess made her way back inside and placed her front paws on your lap excitedly. You stroked her head as you put the glass down, getting off Tom’s lap and wordlessly making your way into the living room, Tess behind you.

Tom followed after a moment, you and Tess cuddled on the couch as Tom sat next to you. You were curled into a ball as Tess curled into you. Your friend joined and sat on one of the other couch’s. You groaned as you held your head, moving to place it on Tom’s bicep as you rubbed your head against it.

“I feel horrendous.” You said and Tom laughed.

“I bet you do.” He teased and you slapped his chest with little to no energy.

“Shh.” You said as you moved to place your head in his lap, moving your legs out to stretch, Tess placing her head on your side as you looked in the direction of the TV.

“Here.” Tom said as he handed you the TV remote, watching as you scrolled through the apps, opening Disney plus. He placed the blanket he’d brought downstairs over your frame.

“What do you wanna watch?” You directed the question at your friend.

“Your house, you pick.” She shrugged.

“You ever seen ‘onward’?” You asked and Tom groaned.

“No.” Your friend said.

“It’s really good.” You said as your eyes scanned the TV looking for the film in question. “There’s this really hot guy that voices one of the characters.” You said and Tom’s hands fell to your now dry hair.

“Yeah?” Your friend asked with a knowing look.

“Yeah, Chris Pratt.” You teased and Tom laughed.

“Oi,” Tom said. “Take that back or you can find a new cuddle buddy.” Tom said and you shook your head as you buried it further into his thigh.

“No, stay. I didn’t mean it. It’s Tom Holland, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of him but his voice is wow.” You said with a small laugh.

“Better.” Tom said as your friend laughed as the film started. The room falling into quiet, the only noise coming from the TV.

“For god’s sake.” Your friend suddenly said as she threw her phone onto the couch cushion next to her.

“What?” You grumbled, Tom’s fingers massaging your head, voice tired.

“He’s angry at me.” She clarified and you groaned.

“Just leave him. It’s not your fault he was asleep last night, should’ve waited up.” You said and she groaned.

“We can’t all have a Mr Perfect.” She said back.

“I mean no but at the same time, it’s not a big ask. Why’s he annoyed?”

“Because I stayed out, forgot my keys. Apparently, I’m an idiot for forgetting them.” She said with a huff.

“He’s a twat. I’d just be glad you were safe.” You said and Tom couldn’t help but silently agree, he’d never treat you so poorly.

“You’re probably right, but I don’t have the energy to fight him today.” Your friend groaned. “Do you mind if I take a shower?” She asked.

“Go for it. Towels are in the cupboard and I have some spare clothes in my drawer, take what you want, you’ll know which drawers are mine.” You said and Tom laughed, you were comfy now and that meant any hospitality had gone out of the window.

“You want me to root around in your bedroom?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m comfy and I trust you.” You said and she shook her head with a laugh as she disappeared upstairs. You had now found ‘up’ and Tom’s hands were running through your hair. “I love you.” You grumbled out after a moment.

“I love you. Apart from the hangover did you have a good night?” He asked.

“Yeah, this really good-looking guy took me home.” You teased.

“Yeah? Did he take care of you?”

“Yeah, I think he took me for food as well.”

“I think he might have done.”

“Yeah, he’s won my heart over, think I might stay with him forever.” You said and Tom smiled as he awkwardly lent over you to kiss your forehead.

“Yeah, I think he might want that too.”

“I hope so. I heard he’s whipped, self admittedly so.”

“How do you remember this?” Tom laughed and you shrugged.

“Beats me.”

You spent what was left of the afternoon on the couch, no intent to move as you came to slightly, your friend had gotten an uber home, declining Tom’s offer of a lift. You were now sat eating pizza that you’d ordered in.

“I hope she leaves him.” You said referring to your friend.

“Yeah, I don’t like him much.” Tom said, he’d met him a couple of times and thought he was nothing more than a dick. Wanted to be the guy who didn’t look soft for his girlfriend.

“She needs a you.” You smiled and Tom laughed.

“You specifically told her last night that you won’t share me.” He teased and you laughed.

“No I won’t but you know, might be fun if she dated one of your friends, she had a bit of a crush on Tuwaine for a while.” You shrugged.

“Little match maker.” Tom laughed.

“We should invite them both out, get them to know each other better.” You said with a smile as you pushed your pizza box to the side. Tom did the same when he was done, moving you both into a comfy cuddling position on the couch.

“I’m so excited to go to Paris next month.” You said through a yawn and Tom’s heart soared.

“Me too darling. Extremely excited.” He said as he pulled you closer, nuzzling his head into your neck as you hummed.

“Three years.” You said in reference to your anniversary.

“I know, insane really, feels like I’ve known you forever.” He said as he played with your fingers.

“Yeah, I really hope you don’t ever leave me.” You muttered and Tom smiled.

“Definitely not on my agenda baby.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland x female reader

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