#no one would have to deal with me and i wouldn’t have to worry about being fucked over anymore.
untitled - kim taehyung
contains m!reader (he/him used like once + male-specific terms), angst, cheating, idol!au (solo idol!reader + idol!tae), ambiguous/open ending, lapslock, brief mention of homophobia
summary when taehyung cheats on you, you're left with no choice but to forget about him.
notes(s) let me just pretend i didnt spend like two hours trying to choose a gif 🙂
requested by @kuroshiblack
you’d been in your hotel room when you found out.
you were exhausted and fresh out of the shower, and tiredly fell back onto your hotel bed. of course, you had to check your phone and send a text to taehyung, even if he may be busy.
first, though, you tapped on twitter to just see what’s going on; you expected to see mostly tags related to the concert you just finished up trending - they were in there but tags relating to taehyung were trending even more. curiosity piqued, you scrolled and saw a lot of negative tags which made you begin to worry.
a bit reluctantly - worried about what you were going to see - you tapped on one of the trending tags and had to scroll through to see what was happening. once you made it through the variants of people saying they couldn’t believe taehyung and several, concerning death threats, you saw it.
a picture of taehyung leaving a hotel with a woman on his arm. they both looked red-cheeked and disheveled.
the less logical part of your mind tried to justify it; maybe it was a complete misunderstanding, maybe something completely unrelated to what was being insinuated happened and there’s a perfectly good explanation for this. of course, the silly theory is proven wrong by more images of taehyung and this mystery woman looking close, faces too close for comfort.
you don’t know how long you stare at the images, heart beating out of your chest, thoughts running rampant, and your face blank out of disbelief. somehow you wanted to vehemently deny it - taehyung couldn’t cheat, you love each other - but the evidence stared right back at you, disproving your illogical thoughts in an instant.
eventually, you put the phone down; you debated texting taehyung but the thought of speaking to him at that moment made your breath hitch, hands shaking as you pulled the comforter over you. what would he even say? would he try to deny it?
god, you don’t know but you were too tired to deal with that shit.
the next day, nothing seems better. everything about taehyung is still very much blowing up and that doesn’t make you feel any better, it actually makes you feel a lot worse since that means you have to keep seeing it as well. both yours and taehyung’s - bts’ - fandoms kept posting about it and tagging you in posts about it.
they’re probably expecting some form of a statement from you - and your manager would probably advise you to do so eventually - but you just wanted to pretend nothing existed outside of your hotel room for the rest of the day, until you’re supposed to leave tomorrow.
but before that, you needed to try to talk to taehyung. you knew you needed to, even if the thought of doing so had your stomach in knots; if he doesn’t deny anything it feels like that will make it really true, no room to deny it any longer. but if he does deny it, you’re sure that would make you more upset, because how could he lie when the transparent evidence is all over the internet?
your thumb hovered over the call button on taehyung’s contact. your hands were all clammy and jittery as you pressed call and brought the device to your ear.
it felt like it rang forever until it stopped. there was no answer. shakily sighing, you brought your phone back down to text taehyung instead. you had no idea what to say to him, you don’t think you even wanted to say anything to him.
though, a simple ‘we need to talk.’ sufficed before you shut off your phone.
thank god you didn’t have any more concerts for now, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to pretend to be perfectly fine with all this going on. you threw yourself back into bed and planned to do only that for the remainder of the day.
you finally speak to taehyung a few days later, when you’d already flown back to korea and had been holing up in your room.
your phone had been shut off since that day in the hotel and you only barely got the energy and courage to turn it back on after a few days. and then you finally saw all the texts and missed calls from taehyung.
you were surprised he hadn't resorted to banging on your front door with the number of ignored messages and calls.
this time you went to his contact more confidently, not hesitating over the call button. it only rang for a few seconds before he picked up. "y/n baby, i'm so sorry i didn't-"
you were clearly wrong in thinking that you could be calm. you thought the few days of isolating yourself gave you time to process and think but hearing taehyung's voice and his worthless apologies made anger boil in your gut. you were angry, pissed; how could he do that to you? how could he even begin to think a simple 'sorry' would do a damn thing besides irritate you?
"save it, just shut the fuck up, taehyung," you sneered, grip on your phone tightening. the other side of the line went quiet, and you can't remember a time when you were ever glad to not hear taehyung's voice. you huff and take a minute before saying something else. "what the fuck were you thinking?"
"did you not at least have the decency to at least try to be discreet? oh, you probably have zero decency to cheat on me in broad daylight with some bitch!"
"just tell me why. no excuses."
"i... i don't know i just," he sighs, "i went out and i was drunk... and lonely."
"if you were lonely maybe you should call your fucking boyfriend and not fuck some girl you met, you dick."
"i-i know i'm-"
"don't apologize. i don't want to hear it." you dragged your hand over your face, "fuck you, taehyung. don't speak to me again. ever." scowling, you hung up and went to block his number before turning your phone off yet again.
of course, things don't end there. as much as you wish they did. your manager did advise you to make some kind of statement. you reluctantly posted something on twitter after mulling over it for an entire day.
it was simple; just you acknowledging everything and asking people to stop tagging you in things about it for the most part. not only did you just not want to say too much about it, but you also didn't have to, you're not the one who did anything wrong.
then a few days after that, you had to return to your schedules. though you would have preferred to continue staying confined in your apartment for longer, they provide a good distraction from everything. you don't have to think about much else when you're focused on making a track, recording, or panting, out of breath on the floor of the practice room from practicing choreo.
you avoided your phone mostly, usually only using it when your manager wants to yell at you for being late. but occasionally you look to look at the shitshow that is twitter; things have only slightly died down, several still trending tags related to the situation that you (stupidly) tap on and scroll through; taehyung's reputation had been tarnished (for the most part, rightfully so) but unfortunately, the other members of bts were being dragged into it as well.
even though they did nothing wrong and namjoon had even sent you a kind text, assuring you that he or the others don't condone what taehyung did and that they'd all be there for you if you wanted them to be.
your reply was a plain 'thank you' but to be fair you had little energy those days. usually, seeing your name almost everywhere would do the opposite but when it's all just 'kim taehyung cheats on his boyfriend l/n y/n blah blah blah' among homophobes who say they knew taehyung couldn't be gay or that the relationship was already damned in the first place, that can't not be draining.
as an openly gay couple in korea of all places, both you and taehyung got your fair share of hate for it but this whole situation seemed to magnify it.
and if all that wasn't already bad, taehyung kept trying to get in contact with you. at first, he was trying to get into your apartment building but you had already told the security to not let him in but then he mailed gifts, notes and tried to get to you through your company.
you weren't having it at all, and frankly, you wanted to forget kim taehyung existed.
and eventually, you sort of did. filtering things out relating to him and avoiding any news-related things and such helped. so did focusing on yourself, your career, and your album. taehyung stopped trying to get you back, talk to you, or whatever he was pulling, it took a few months but he stopped.
you didn't even have time to think about him much, being too preoccupied with promotions after releasing an album; and thankfully, because of your album, when you see your name it's not in the same sentence as taehyung's. instead of 'taehyung cheats on y/n' it's more 'l/n y/n and his new album', etc.
things were great, for you at least. meanwhile, taehyung had been on a hiatus ever since everything happened; at first, bts entirely went on hiatus, but eventually returned minus one member, taehyung who was still receiving large amounts of hate. part of you managed to feel bad but you remembered he’s the only one to blame, if he hadn’t cheated on you, especially in broad daylight, all this could have been avoided.
the thought of him makes you groan, you were supposed to be forgetting him, and you had forgotten him enough but you can’t help but think of him at times; after all, he’s a man you loved, one you might’ve spent your life with even.
maybe the proper way to fully move on includes speaking to taehyung, maybe there’s some form of closure you’re missing.
maybe you could send a text.
Saeran, Yoosung and Vanderwood babysitting together Saeyoung and Mc's twin girls
Request by: @606vandymm
I was almost 100% sure, that I already wrote something like that but I can’t seem to find it… well, here you are! Hope you enjoy!
,,Do you really think that you can take care of four children?’’ you asked Vanderwood in a quiet voice. Unfortunately Yoosung, who you counted as one of those four children, heard you and didn’t quite find it funny.
,,Mc! How can you name me and Saeran children when you’re literally going to leave your children in our care?’’ Yoosung asked you. Saeran looked up from feeding the older twin, Seri. You knew that Vanderwood and Saeran would be just fine as you all lived together in a pretty big house. They were by your side from the very first day when the twin girls came home.
From pregnancy to labor they supported you and Saeyoung who were on your last nerves. Check ups, a lot of money, and worries, as well as fears and arguments, were the things you were dealing with and Vanderwood and Saeran did their best to support you.
Especially Saeran, who was later on hyped to become an uncle, knowing perfectly well how to handle the twin girls. From the first cry to the first steps, Saeran was by the side of the red haired girls with the honey yellow eyes of their father. He didn’t sigh when you asked him to get the other twin when you were busy and sometimes he was the first to hold the babies in the middle of the night when they were crying and Saeyoung was too slow to bring them to your bed.
But Vanderwood too knew how the girls were behaving. He knew their habits and their favorite foods.
Vanderwood was also a great help. Whenever Saeyoung was at work and you felt sick, he was the one who cleaned the rooms while you were laying in bed. Whenever you were having breakdowns or felt too tired to clean or cook, Vanderwood was the one who helped you. And whenever Seri or Sarang decided that they should bake a cake, Vanderwood was the one who cleaned up while you were having fun with your children.
The five of you were a happy little family. The one who was worrying you a bit was Yoosung. He was still a bit confused about who was Seri and who was Sarang and he didn’t know that your children were allergic to some nuts, but maybe it was because he himself was still so unsure about a lot of things in his life.
,,No… it’s just that I don’t want things to become chaotic, you know,’’ you smiled and looked over to Saeyoung who came carrying Sarang who was just awake.
,,I’m ready. You too, Mc?’’ he asked you.
,,It’s my first time leaving them alone… I am… a bit worried, sorry,’’ you smiled and took Sarang, the younger twin in your arms.
,,Are we awake, Sarang-ah?’’ you asked her, kissing her cheek and nose.
,,Mommy, where you going?’’ she mumbled sleepily as she nuzzled her head into your neck.
,,Daddy and Mommy need to check something for a little bit. We will be back after you and Seri had a lot of fun with Uncle Saeran, Vandy, and Yoosung,’’ you chuckled.
You didn’t tell them that Saeyoung got a wellness weekend for the two of you. You didn’t tell them that you were going to leave the two of them alone with their uncles. It didn’t feel right to have fun without them, but like Saeyoung told you once, you too had the right to have some free time.
You just left the house when Sarang began to eat and Seri began to play with Yoosung. The twins still didn’t notice that you guys were gone and Saeran, while he was feeding his little niece, was hoping that they wouldn’t notice so quickly….
He knew how happily they could play, laugh peacefully, or sleep safe and soundly, but just like he knew how they behaved when they felt at peace, he knew way too well how loud their cries and yells were. He knew way too well how many tears they could shed for things that were, in his eyes at least, nonsense. But he also knew that he was talking about little children. Saeran knew how well they could sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, cry because of the smallest sound, but he also knew that these loud screams, filled with fear, anger, and worry were always because of a certain trigger.
,,So while mommy and daddy are gone, let’s go and play outside in the park, shall we?’’ Yoosung asked, hyped to go out with the children. But both Saeran and Vanderwood knew that he just made a fatal mistake.
,,Where are mommy and daddy?’’ Seri asked her uncle. Sarang stopped eating and looked at the blond haired man ,,When will they be back?’’
,,You freaking nut made them remember that their parents are gone. Shut your mouth for a bit, okay?’’ Saeran hissed, surprised by himself that he kind of behaved like he did in the past.
Yoosung kept in his breath and observed the situation as Saeran tried to find a solution ,,You know that Mommy and Daddy work for Santa,’’ he lied, obviously ,,They needed to help him with something, but couldn’t tell us or take you, you know you have to stay nice girls for Santa… but why don’t we go out to the park and build a big castle and play with the slide?’’ Saeran suggested and as soon as the children heard Santa, their favorite man, except from their father and uncles, and the slide they loved so much, their missing parents were already forgotten again.
The day went by, the girls were changed by their uncle and Vanderwood. Saeyoung especially didn’t want any other male except for Vanderwood and Saeran, who were living with them, seeing his daughters naked.
While they did their best changing the girls into clothes to go out, Yoosung prepared the bag to go out. Perhaps it was a mistake that Vanderwood didn’t check the bag beforehand.
,,You didn’t put in the first aid kit in the bathroom?’’ Vanderwood glared as he was holding a crying Sarang. She was always the first to fall and hurt herself. Her parents always, especially you, carried a first aid kit and something to clean any injury. It was okay since another mother immediately came to aid.
,,You know we are just the uncles babysitting. Well actually, it’s my first time, the red haired one is the real uncle. We are just friends of the parents,’’ Yoosung said to his defense while Vanderwood tried to hush the little girl in his arms. Saeran was still playing with Seri when she suddenly felt rather hungry and so, they decided to have a snack. Saeran thanked the Gods that he noticed beforehand that Yoosung packed some nut bread and was just in time to stop the children from even touching the food.
,,Are you trying to kill them?!’’ Saeran whispered as he unpacked the apple.
,,Uncle, can we go now?’’ Seri whined, not happy about the piece of apple. And so the day went by. Saeran helped the girls take a bath and Vanderwood was keeping an eye on Yoosung as he cleaned the house with him, put away the toys, and began to cook food.
The evening approached them pretty quickly and they all found themselves on the couch, eating chips and drinking tea while watching…. Peppa Pig. The girls enjoyed the series a lot and Yoosung was slowly getting bored.
,,Should we play hide and seek?’’ He asked the children and made them rather excited, even though both girls were already rubbing their eyes.
,,It’s almost 8’clock, the children should go to sleep,’’ Saeran tried to say, but as soon as his nieces began to beg him for just one round, he couldn’t say no.
,,How can you lose two little girls in their own house?!’’ you hissed over the phone. It was almost midnight when Yoosung, a crying Yoosung, called you. He killed the mood in the warm, cozy bedroom. He killed the sweet taste of the wine and the exciting, lightly erotic atmosphere between you and Saeyoung. His fingers were at his phone, not on your skin like you would have liked to, just like he did a few seconds earlier.
He was checking all the CCTV in his house as you were scolding Yoosung over the phone. You were scolding him for his mistake. Always hide the girls yourself while someone else is counting. Instead, he decided that he should hide himself while Saeran was counting and Vanderwood sleeping in his bedroom, until two hours ago, before Saeran woke him up by hissing at the blonde man.
,,No matter what, they won’t come out cause we taught them how to hide and not make a sound for emergencies!’’ you hissed. Maybe you were traumatized by Saeyoung and Saeran’s past, by the fears and dangers, or maybe you just wanted to teach them something.
,,I’m coming back,’’ you said over the phone and tried to search for your pants Saeyoung took off earlier ,,NO, NO NEED!’’ Yoosung said on the other end.
,,Saeran just found them sleeping in the cabinet. I’m sorry for calling so late,’’ Yoosung said and immediately cut the call. ,,Send your brother a message to kick out Yoosung,’’ you hissed and let yourself fall into the bed.
,,No need to,’’ Saeyoung shortly answered as he turned his phone to you, showing him a message from Saeran saying that he just kicked Yoosung out ,,Now, let’s pick up from where we stopped earlier…’’ Saeyoung whispered and again began to take off the pants you put on earlier…
The last few hours until your arrival were pretty normal. The girls woke up, wondering why Uncle Yoosung was gone suddenly, but shortly afterwards, enjoyed their breakfast without thinking about him anymore. They played some games and whined again about missing their parents before Vanderood made them bake a cake for your arrival.
Luckily, no one got hurt and no one even shed a tear. But of course, as soon as you opened the front door, both men rushed out of the door, seeking for freedom and revenge on Yoosung, who made the previous day so chaotic.
,,Why must you sleep on my couch and work on my PC?!’’ Yoosung asked ,,Because it’s now your turn babysitting us!’’ Vanderwood commented…
26.01.2022 // 19:26 MEST
I've been lately caught up with Lupin (the anime) and Leverage, and I recommend bith, and that put me in a mischief mode so...
How do you think Sanji, Zoro and Shanks would be with an s/o (male if you can) who has no sense whatsoever of danger so he gets into trouble all the time but talks his way out of it?
And I just realised it's probably Loki's description.
Anyways I'd imagine Zoro being like:
Another Luffy? Really?
Sorry for my English (English isnt my first language) and feel free to decline for any reason!
Just wanted to say
1) I love your works
2) I hope you have a wonderful day and night
3) Ciao! 🥰👋
And sorry if it's long
anon baby hello <3 if you mean Lupin III I enjoy it!! but haven’t seen it in a while. thank you sm for your kind words the mean a lot, I’m always in a mood for mischief so I hope you enjoy xx
Sanji, Zoro, Shanks x Male reader (separate)
Prompt: S/O doesn’t have a sense for danger
- Sanji poor sweet chef boy, he loves you but you being such a handful would stress him out.
- He’d be by your side as much as he could, not to explicitly keep you out of trouble, but it would help to some degree
- He’d be the quickest to step in unless someone told him not to, he wants to help you and keep you out of harms way. Even if you’re a perfectly and capable
- Sanji’s paranoia probably would stem from one instance that he didn’t make it in time, that he almost lost you because you got into trouble too deep to get out of, it didn’t just happen without reason.
- He would take it to heart if you got injured, seeing it as a sign that he should be more careful, he a better boyfriend, stay closer to you. He doesn’t doubt your strength or ability, he’s just harder on himself than he ever would be on you.
- Talking your way back into Sanji’s good graces might not be the easiest task at first but after he knows your safe, knows nothing serious happened, after you’re in harms way, the moment an apology begins to stumble out of your mouth he forgives you.
- He would be a little annoyed by it. The man can't even keep track of himself, how was he supposed to keep track of you? He has to deal with Luffy, now you too?
- If you argued back with the “you knew what you were getting into when we started dating,” he would just grumble (blatantly argue) against it
- When you would go missing, which wasn’t totally infrequent, Zoro would wander the streets, trying to find you, vaguely asking people "have you see him" while holding up your wanted poster.
- He wouldn’t be worried about finding you until he had just cause to be worried. If he heard a loud crash, the screams of startle public, or any just general sign of chaos, he’d start to get a little worried, and might start to run and find you, but still nothing too crazy unless he had reason to believe you were actually in over your head. For better or for worst, he trusts your strength.
- When he did find you, though, it would almost be on the brink of being "too late." Either you're close to passing out from injury, close to being taken away by the marines, or something worse, Zoro would end up having to save you
- He would be the hardest to talk out of being mad, seeing you injured or in the situation you had been in filled him with a distressed rage. he can barely handle one emotion at a time, so the turmoil you put him in sends his heart for a loop, and not the cute kind. But, when he sees you’re better a few days after, he’d forgive you when you tried apologizing to him
- He would get a kick out of it until you went too far.
- He'd cheer you on, yelling "that's my boyfriend!" or "what do you expect from my man?" and other things like that at first, loving the ruckus you're causing.
- He would know when you got in over your head, and unlike Zoro he would step in before something happened. Are you strong? yes. Does he trust you? yes. Does he recognize that sometimes you will face opponents that you simply cannot beat? also yes.
- In his mind, part of having strength is recognizing when you can't win, and though he's tried to teach you to realize you can't beat everyone.
- "You're lucky I love you," Shanks would say as he had his arm around you, or held your hand while the doctor bandaged your wounds. His tone would be light hearted, his expression kind but serious. He wouldn't ever say it, but you do worry him with the trouble you wind up getting into.
- But, when you give him those puppy dog eyes and “I’m sorry” pout, the red haired man can’t help but fall for you all over again and cave, worry dissipating as his love for you pushes its way into his heart.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T THINK YOU'RE *ALLOWED* TO TALK ABOUT IT????? Also, why silence Boomer THAT fast??? Mans couldn't even say a full word damn
that's to suspicious I'm going insane
Dream, just tell us already please I can't keep doing this buddy 😭
RIGHT that literally told me everything i need to know, the fact that they can’t talk about it 😭 that alone says so much. it’s extremely telling.
a lot of people think that Boomer saying it was “Chris Evans” is even more reason to believe that it’s Dream since Sapnap said before that he thinks Dream looks like that, but i’m also seeing so many people saying they think it’s Callahan because of his skin. i honestly fully don’t believe it’s Callahan though, and i think Boomer was just making a joke about that because from that little sliver of face, Ollie (Dream??) does look a bit like Chris Evans (at least, as much as any guy who looks like Chris Evans “looks like Chris Evans” imo) and “Chris Evans” was trending on twitter for different reasons alongside “Ollie” so i think it was just a little quip.
But. But. with the stuff some people are bringing up like the fact that Ollie tagged the pictures with “mccyt” and Dream is streaming mcc… on yt…. which he never does like why would he do that……. and Dream always said he’d want to have youtube play a part in his face reveal………… i would 100% say that’s a big stretch but when you put it together with all the other coincidences it’s like — i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again — ITS TOO MANY COINCIDENCES!!
HOWEVER. even if that is true, i don’t think Dream is face revealing tomorrow because that would mean that George is in Florida and i don’t believe that George is in Florida. also, i think they would give us a lot more obvious and ample notice if that was the case, rather than people speculating that maybe it’s possible that it might be literally tomorrow, you know what i mean? i don’t think “you’ll know” means “here is a puzzle that might be a joke and nobody knows and maybe the meetup and face reveal will be soon :^) have fun!”
i honestly don’t even know at this point, i’m really thinking that there’s no way it’s Not Dream, but i’m keeping the possibility open that it’s not him so that i don’t feel like a FOOL if it’s not. but i think it is. i really do think it’s Dream. i just have no clue what the point of it all is and i am going crazy and Dream PLS JUST TELL US
Thinking back the friendship group I had in secondary school probably wasn’t good for me
i hate to hear the rest of the party’s takes on what’ll happen if cami dies bc like. i’d been kind of hoping it would get them to rely on and connect with each other in her absence, but,
texting ur fiancé “yo we still on for tmrw?” the day before your wedding with atsumu, kuroo, bokuto, and suna HAHA
texting your fiancé the night before the wedding
feat. Atsumu, Kuroo, Bokuto, Suna
it was the night before your wedding, and your friends insisted that you and your fiancé follow the tradition of not seeing one another before the wedding
not that you believed in such a stereotype (whether or not your fiancé did, you weren’t sure to be honest)
but you still followed in the tradition just for the heck of it
as you lay in bed, still awake, your mind came up with a devious little joke for your fiancé
picking up your phone, you sent him a quick text to mess with him for a bit
we still on for tmrw?
within 10 seconds of sending that text, you get a video call from Atsumu
you quickly accept the call, grinning the second your dear fiancé came into view on your phone screen
“What the hell do you mean ‘we still on for tomorrow’?” Atsumu asks you, one eyebrow raised at what you could possibly be thinking
you respond by laughing, and admittedly your laughter and lax attitude brings a smile to Atsumu’s face
he would never admit it, but seeing your text did worry him just a bit
the rational part of Atsumu knew that you wouldn’t back out, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen
so confirming that this was just some little harmless prank was enough to ease his nerves
“I miss you so much” he pouts into the camera
“we’ll see each other tomorrow!!” you tell him, but Atsumu rolls his eyes at you
“you sure? your last text seems to imply otherwise...”
“it was a joke babe!” you giggle, watching as Atsumu’s pouts slowly become a smile
“I know... I still miss you and want you right next to me” Atsumu sighs, taking in all of your features from the screen on his phone
he’s still in absolute disbelief that in less than a day he gets to marry you
even though you like to joke around with him and send him ludicrous texts like the one you sent not too long ago, there was no doubt in Atsumu’s mind that you were the one for him
and just for you, he’d deal with a billion of your silly oddly ambiguous texts if it mean that he would be yours and you would be his for the rest of your lives
it didn’t take long for Kuroo to call you
and when you answered, you heard chatter in the background- identifying the voices as his friends’
“actually Y/n, we are not still on for tomorrow. I’ve changed my mind” Kuroo jokes around
you chuckle in response, but you can hear the surprise in his friends’ voices
“I- Kuroo what are you talking about?” you hear Bokuto ask
“yeah I was just telling Y/n I can’t do this anymore. I think I might back out of this”
the chatter you previously heard went silent, allowing you to put on your best acting performance
you began sobbing into the phone, loud enough that his friends would hear even without being on speaker
“n-no! Please Tetsu I- I love you so much please don’t leave me!” you fake cry
“sorry Y/n. I realized that I can’t be with you.” Kuroo solemnly says into the phone, watching his friends shift glances at one another, not knowing how to react
“there’s someone else huh? I bet there is” you continue your fake sobbing, adding in short breaths in-between your cries
“...there is.... it’s Tsukishima” Kuroo dramatically admits
and at this point, you’re unable to hold back your laughter and Kuroo soon joins in with his cackles
even though you two are having a jolly time, his friends look absolutely done with Kuroo
except for Tsukishima- he looks at the soon to be groom in disgust
“is it too late to withdraw as a groomsman” Tsukishima murmurs under his breath
you waited for a response, but you honestly never got one
it was unlike Bokuto to not respond to you instantly, but you didn’t think too much about it
after all, you knew that his friends planned to go out with him tonight for a little celebration
but ten minutes after your text was sent, you got a call from Akaashi
“so uh...we kinda lost Bokuto-san” he admits, and you nearly drop your phone
“I- HOW DID YOU LOSE MY FIANCE?” you screech into the phone
“look, it’s not like he’s drunk or anything. I saw him look at his phone and then he started running off saying how he needed to see you!”
and right on time, incessant knocking is heard at your door
“Y/N IT’S ME KOU” Bokuto shouts from the other side of the door
“....okay I found him Akaashi. He’s here so just swing by to pick him up please” you say, ending the call to open the door
and the moment you do, Bokuto has you wrapped in his arms
“of course we’re still on for tomorrow why did something happen?” Bokuto frantically asks, worried about you
your text had alarmed him- he wasn’t sure why you would send such a thing but he knew he had to see you as soon as possible to talk to you
you felt a bit guilty since you hadn’t anticipated him reacting like this
“aw, Kou I’m sorry it was just a little prank” you sheepishly admit, cupping one of his cheeks
Bokuto sighs in relief, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead
“oh thank god- you had me worried for a sec Y/n” he murmurs, still not letting you go
and for the next ten minutes or so before Akaashi arrives, Bokuto is still hugging you, telling you how excited he is to marry the love of his life and continuously showering you with all the affection he could offer
it didn’t take Suna long for him to read the message and respond
but this text wasn’t one you were expecting at all
‘2/10 joke’ is all the message read
so you call him for an explanation
“hello?” he asks as soon as he picks up your call
“what do you mean that’s a 2/10 joke Rin?” you ask him, pouting that your boyfriend gave you such a low score
“the text implies that its on me, the receiver of the text to decide whether or not tomorrow’s event is still going to happen.”
Suna pauses briefly, allowing you to think about his words before continuing
“so it doesn't make me filled with any concern or worry- which is what you want when pranking somebody. if you wanted to accomplish that, then you should have said something that would make me think you were the unsure one” Suna further explains
“ah I see, so all I have to do is-” you’re quickly interrupted by your boyfriend
“nope” he simply states
“you’re not going to pull that prank on me” Suna states with so much confident- as if he were the one making the decision and not you
“it won’t work anyways. Now that I've told you the plan. it ruins the whole surprise” he says, and you’re silent for a moment
“god Rin you’re so annoying you know that? the most annoying person on this planet” you joke, plopping back not your bed
“and you’re the fool for marrying the most annoying person on the planet tomorrow” Suna scoffs
and although you can’t see it, you just know he’s rolling his eyes
out of love of course
fascinated every time i see vax meta that describes his death as the raven queen cashing in the deal he made to save vex
like this isn't a post criticising those writers, don't get me wrong, write whatever poetry works, but like, that's not what happened
maybe enough people just haven't seen the end of c1 or don't remember it well enough that this is what circulates in the fandom consciousness? or maybe the opinions of vex and percy and keyleth that the raven queen is evil speaks louder than vax's opinion that she only ever acted fairly
but like. vax's first deal, to resurrect vex, the raven queen never demanded his life for that. or, she did, but not in the sense of "you will die"
i said a while ago i should do a meta about the raven queen and her perspective and maybe this is it but, the raven queen never demands death of mortals. why would she? she doesn't need to. everyone will visit her eventually, and she's a very patient woman
the only thing she hates is when people go against her. not with a resurrection, she has no problem with resurrection spells, especially if the death in question interferes with that person's destiny (she's the keeper of fate, as well). no, she despises the undead and the immortal, people who plan to never return to her, people who have warped their own destiny to survive long after their thread ended.
and vax called on her first. he invoked her name in a temple made to worship her, next to the body of her former champion, and said "take me instead". that was his offer, to shift fate just enough for the resurrection spell to work, and in a place so full of her power she couldn't ignore it (and this is, by word of matt, why there were no problems with kashaw calling on vesh to resurrect vex, or why vax's soul deal with the hag never went anywhere - the raven queen has the power here, and part of her side of this deal was keeping them away). but killing vax would just be pointless. what she needed was a new champion on exandria, someone she could act through from behind the divine gate to rid the world of the undead and immortal, those who spited her deliberately
and then she called on vax to meet with her. the first time in the blood pool, they talked, and they hashed this deal out properly. she resurrected vex. he would be her champion. and together they would keep the web of fate in order
there were no additional clauses to that deal. vax may have worried often that he was going to die, for a variety of reasons (mostly dragons), but the raven queen never intended to "call it in", because there was nothing to call in. both sides of the deal were fulfilled as soon as vax multiclassed into paladin
all the more clear when vax got killed by the kraken, and the raven queen had no problem letting him return. it was not his fate to die there, so he didn't
but then came vecna, the raven queen's arch nemesis, who had already flouted every rule she had
and a disintegrate spell
and disintegrate is a particularly evil form of murdering someone, because resurrection spells don't work on disintegrate. there's no body to give life into, no place for a soul to return. not even the raven queen can undo a disintegrate, not fully
vecna killed vax, not the raven queen
and yes, there is one solution in game for disintegrate. because 9th level spells can be power beyond even gods, there's a reason scanlan was saving a wish. but true resurrection lets you simply speak the name of anyone who's died in the past 200 years and they will appear before you, alive and whole again. the raven queen is okay with resurrection spells, but, in matt's own words, that crosses the line. she doesn't have that power, not like that, and if she allowed mortals to use it without punishment, there would be absolute anarchy, the web of fate would be destroyed
and vax also knew this. according to liam, he wouldn't have gone along with a true res anyway, because it would go against everything the raven queen stands for, everything he'd spent the last year and a half protecting
but he couldn't just leave his friends to die
so vax made a second deal. this man is enemy to both of us. let me help defeat him. and when it's done, i'll do what i promised, and keep you company here for as long as you need me.
(and this was something else vax saw, the raven queen isn't like the other gods, she murdered her way into the pantheon and the other gods don't trust her. there are no souls in her domain, she's not allowed to keep them, she just collects them and moves them on to their final destination. and she's been so lonely for so long)
so she did what she could. she couldn't restore him, but she could give him an avatar made of her power, something that would help him defeat vecna, for everyone's sake. but it couldn't be sustained indefinitely. that would be an act against her own domain. and it's a tragedy that vax couldn't stay with his family for longer. it's not an ending any party involved would have chosen, the raven queen included
but it's a lot more complicated than "vax gave his life for his sister". he gave it for all of his family, which by the end, the raven queen was part of
they see you wearing a men’s sized sweater and think you’re cheating on them
characters: atsumu, bokuto, kenma, ushijima, (gn!reader)
summary: what happens when they see you wearing a men’s sized sweater and wrongfully assume you’re cheating on them.
warnings: nothing, just a hint of angst, some suggestive things and some dumb boys–
notes: this actually isn't that angsty! everyone is aged up and living together but it doesn’t really matter lmao (u can request others if you’d like! i kinda wanna do kageyama and oikawa)
part one | part two
this dumbass sees you all cozy in this extremely over sized sweater––like his size sweater
you’re on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, your head leaning on a sweater paw
and at first he gets distracted cause you look so cute and his face softens
but then he realizes that he doesn’t recognize it, and it sure as hell isn’t yours
and !! he knows !! it’s not his !!
and he immediately thinks it’s another mans, i mean what possible other explanation could there be–
his brows furrow and he just speaks without thinking, masking his hurt with anger
“so who is it?” he crosses his arms and stares down at you, practically barking, his voice breaking the silence around you.
you pause immediately and look up at him confused, noticing how he’s doing the same stance he does when he’s trying to act tough. “what?”
he tuts and rolls his eyes, sighing in annoyance. were you really going to deny it? he narrows his eyes. “who. is. it.” the look of confusion on your face only deepens and he can feel his blood start to boil. his voice is dead cold and it sends a shiver up your spine. “who have you been fucking?”
you blink, once, then twice. “...you? what’s going on here––”
“don’t play dumb with me, y/n.”
you looked around the room for a few seconds then back to him. “...is it daddy? is that the answer––”
“y/n.” he growls impatiently.
“i don’t know what’s going on!”
he breaks and steps closer to you, yelling almost in your face. “you’re cheating on me!”
“what?!” you practically shriek. “why would you think that??”
he scoffs, “are you kidding me?? the evidence is right there in front of my freakin’ face!” he points at you and you start to get aggravated as well, not knowing where these absurd allegations came from.
“what the fuck are you talking about tsumu?” you set your phone down and stand up, a few inches away from him.
“that fuckin’ ugly ass sweater you’re wearin’! you really think you’d be able to hide that from me, i’m not a dumbass!”
you look at him bewildered and down to your sweater, pulling at the hem. “you think it’s ugly? i bought it yesterday i thought it was cute–”
“i don’t give a shit! how could you do this to me i thought––” he cuts himself off and blinks a few times, the redness in his cheeks and on his neck slowly fading away. “wait you...you what?”
you looked back up at him. “i said i bought it yesterday...? what does that have to do with––”
“so it’s not some other guy’s sweater...”
the both of you stood there for a few seconds just staring at each other, you in disbelief, him with a guilty and sheepish smile on his face. without warning, you slapped his arm and he shrieked.
“ow?! that hurt!”
“i don’t care! you really thought i would cheat on you?!” you tried to shove past him but he stopped you, eyes wide as he held you by the waist.
“baby i’m sorry––”
you looked up at him, eyes watery. “what the hell, ‘tsumu?”
he felt his eyes start to water up too, a dull ache in the back of his throat as he pulled you into his arms and held you tight. “i’m so sorry babylove, i––i wasn’t thinking and i just––i saw you all cozy in that sweater and the thought of you wearing someone else’s clothes, being with someone else...” you wrapped your arms around him, hearing the pain he was trying to hide, in his voice.
his voice was small as he mumbled, his cheek smushed against your head. “i thought you had some side piece hiding around somewhere.”
you shook your head and nestled your head into his chest. “don’t be ridiculous ‘tsumu, if anything you’d be the side piece.”
“hey!” he pulls away to look at you and smiles when he sees your lips curved upwards cheekily. his thumbs came up to wipe the remnants of your tears that hadn’t soaked into his sweater. “can we go cuddle now?”
you pretended to think, “hm i don’t know...i don’t think you deserve those right now.”
he pouted. “please? i’ll do anything––i’ll cook all our meals for the whole week!”
you cringed, “last time you cooked, you almost burnt the kitchen down.”
his shoulders drooped as he tried to think of another offer. “oh!” he perked up, eyes bright. “i’ll get ‘samu to cook for us? he owes me a favor anyway–”
you smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “deal.”
this absolute angel would be so sad :(((
at first he’d be like :D they’re so cute
and he’d be staring at you, all entranced and in love
then he realizes he doesn’t recognize the sweater cause he’s never seen you wear it before (he knows all of your outfits, he compliments all of them) and then he also realizes how big it is on you ://
immediately gets in a bad mood, more sad then angry
baby boy is just hurt tbh
was he not good enough?
he doesn’t even say anything, he just sulks and hopes you’ll come to him and let him down easy or come to your senses and leave the other guy
he’d forgive you, he loves you too much
bokuto walked into the bedroom where you were and paused for a bit before lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. you could feel his energy shift as he walked in, as if there were a cloud above him.
“kou?” you asked, looking away from your phone to your pouting boyfriend. he simply hummed in response, not even glancing at you. “what’s wrong?”
he bit his lip, blinking a few times before responding. “mm, nothing.”
your brows furrowed, wondering what could have possibly put him in a bad mood. “oh i know, did akaashi beat you at cup pong on that imessage game again?”
he frowned, “no––i mean yes, but––” he finally turned to look at you, eyes wide, filled with unshed tears and you sat up, alarmed. “are you happy?”
you tilted your head in confusion. “happy?”
“yes,” he nodded. “with me.” he was looking at you hopefully, the usual light in his eyes now dim.
now it was your turn to frown. “of course i am, baby. i’m happiest when i’m with you. why are you asking me that?”
he seemed to perk up a bit at that, but he still wasn’t fully himself. he looked away, “nothing, no reason.”
“nuh uh,” you scooted closer to him and gently cradled his face, turning him to face you. “why are you asking me this? something’s obviously up.”
his hand came up to hold yours on his cheek. “i just...” he looked down to your sweater. “you look really pretty in that sweater, you know? i think that’s what hurts the most, you still look like mine, my baby...even though you’re not wearing my sweater.”
“that’s what this is about? bo, you had me worried! if you want me to wear your sweaters i will, you know i love wearing them.”
he looked up into your eyes, “but what about this one? what about the other–”
“i only bought this cause it was on sale, it’s not like i’m attached to it or anything. honestly, i like yours a lot better.” you smiled at him and you could see all the tension leaving his body, the hurt leaving his face as he smiled wide.
“you––you bought it!”
this boy confused you more and more every day. “yes, i bought it. what’s up with you?”
he shook his head vigorously like a little puppy, eyes wide as he hastily wiped his tears. “no–nothing!” he pulled you into his arms and you fell into him with a gasp, your legs on either side of him as he held you tight. “i love you so much, my precious angel.”
you raised a brow, giving into his embrace. “o–kay? i love you too, baby.” you let your head fall onto his shoulder, your boy was always so dramatic...
kenma would be gaming at his desk, cat headphones on
and you’d sneak in, bored of doing whatever it is you were doing before, to sit on his lap as you always do
he’d barely look away from the screen as you squeeze into the chair with him, lifting and opening his arms to let you in
you’d snuggle against him and as he plays, he unconsciously kisses your forehead and lean his head onto yours
he’d honestly play for a good while before he takes a break or a loading screen pops up before the next mission and he’d finally take a good look at you all cozied up on top of him
he’d bring a hand to your waist, just to let you know that he’s there and appreciates your company
he’d notice how peaceful you look, your eyes closed as you held onto his sweatshirt
but then he’d notice your sweatshirt and his brows would furrow
you felt kenma stiffen underneath you, and at first you thought it was because his game was getting intense––but you couldn’t hear any noise coming from the monitor or from the keyboard (and trust me you would hear when he was typing––his fingers going at fifty miles per hour).
you opened your eyes to see him staring off to the side, not even paying attention to his game resuming, a worrying crease between his brows. you took the hand that was fisting his collar and brought it up to hold his cheek and though he softened at the touch at first, as he always did, you could tell something was off.
“baby?” you mumbled. “what’s wrong? did something happen in your game?”
he barely even heard you at first, too caught up in his own troublesome thoughts. was it someone else’s? another guy’s? you wouldn’t––right?
“baby?” again, no response.
you sat up and his hands fell to the arm rests, or more like he put them there, as though he wanted you to get off. this was immediately a bad sign––he never wanted you to get off, even when you had to pee, he would grumble and hold you tighter, continuing to play his game as though you weren’t about to literally piss your pants.
you turned his head towards you but he still wouldn’t look at you, instead choosing to look down. “ken what’s wrong? you’re worrying me.” he finally looked into your eyes and you felt a chill run through your body at the fierce look in them, an indescribable emotion swimming in his irises.
he stared at you first for a few moments silently before speaking up. “when did––” he paused, unsure of how to go about this, his voice small and hesitant. “when did you get this sweater?”
you looked down at the fabric you were practically melting in and back up at him, a confused pout on your face. “a few months ago, why?”
“a few months?” he frowned and tilted his head back down. it’s been that long?
“yeah, i got it at that thrift store, you know the one by the café? why do you ask?”
at that, his eyes widened and his lips parted, but he quickly snapped out of it and wrapped his arms around you. “n–nothing. no reason.”
“doesn’t matter.” he pulled you close so that you were leaning on him again, his arms tight, not letting you up.
you snuggled back against him hesitantly, your hand sliding up to play with the loose bundles of hair that fell out of his bun at the nape of his neck. you smiled as he purred at your touch, his hands going back to the keyboard.
you felt yourself sink back into his embrace, your fatigue quickly washing over you again. you’d definitely ask him what that was about after you woke up.
poor baby sees the sweater and tries to remember if he’s ever seen you wear it, since he already knows it’s not his
he comes to the conclusion that it’s most likely another man’s since it’s so big on you and immediately assumes it’s his fault ://
he just stands and stares at you for a while, brows furrowed in thought
but he does that all the time, so you don’t think anything of it and just go about your business cutting up your apple slices in the kitchen
he notices how the fabric is swallowing you up, but it’s still not as big as his, and that at least gives him a teeny bit of satisfaction that whoever this man is, he’s bigger than him
after a few minutes of contemplation, he stands next to you and speaks up
“do i not satisfy you enough, y/n?”
you paused and the sound of your knife slicing fruit came to a halt as you looked up at your boyfriend to see if he was joking. he wasn’t. you almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation but looking at the seriousness in ushijima’s expression, you decided against it. given the way your eyes would fill with tears, the way your thighs would tremble as you clung to him after every night you spent together in bed, he should have known the answer to that question. but maybe he meant it another way––
“in what way?” he frowned and you went on. “if you meant sex wise...then yes, you more than satisfy me. if it’s in terms of love and affection, then the answer is also yes. short answer is yes, always.”
this only seemed to trouble him further, somehow. “then what is it?”
you tilted your head in confusion, “what is what?”
“what made you go elsewhere?”
you blink and put the knife down. “ushi, i have no idea what you’re talking about, i’ve been here all day.”
“what made you go and find someone else to take care of you?” he said bluntly.
“what? i didn’t...” you turned fully to face him, piecing together what he was saying so cryptically yet plainly at the same time. looking at his features carefully, you could see the anger, frustration and most of all, the hurt he was trying to hide, on his face. your voice shrunk in size. “wait, you think i’m cheating on you?” he nodded silently and you felt a twitch in your stomach. “why would you think that?”
he reached down, “this” he tugged at the sleeve of your sweater with two fingers, as if it disgusted him. “is not mine. and it is far too large to be yours.” he crossed his arms and looked at you, waiting for an explanation.
you paused for a few seconds before you burst out laughing and he only stood there, watching you, offended and utterly confused. why was this funny? “i’m sorry baby i just––” you placed one hand on the counter and tried to hold yourself up and not fall down to your knees. you waited until your laugh died down to a giggle before looking up at your adorable, dumb boyfriend with a smile on your face.
“this isn’t your sweater, you’re right. but it is mine. i bought it the other day, it’s just oversized.”
his arms slowly dropped to his sides. “––oh.”
“yeah, ‘oh’.” you shook your head slightly. “you really thought i would cheat on you?”
“i didn’t want to believe it. i wasn’t sure, so i asked.”
you pursed your lips, more amused than anything. “more like you accused me, ushi.”
he looked down in shame. “i’m sorry.”
you placed a hand on his chest as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your waist. “i would never hurt you like that. i’m yours.” you leaned up on your tiptoes and he bent down, eager to give you the kiss you wanted. he pressed his lips against yours, his hands holding you tight.
when you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. “i really am sorry.”
you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled back to look into his eyes, smiling at the way he nuzzled into your touch. “it’s okay baby. how about i just wear your sweaters instead of buying my own, hm?” though you were slightly teasing, he nodded, more serious than ever.
“i would like that.”
The Witch Who Spoke to the Wind
Sequel to Eindred and the Witch
In which Severin, the golden eyed witch, learns that his greatest enemy and truest love is fated to kill him.
Dealing in prophecies is a dubious work. Anyone who knows anything will tell you as much.
“Think of all of time as a grand tapestry,” his great-grandmother had said, elbow deep in scalding water. Her hands were tomato red, and Severin watched with wide golden eyes as she kneaded and stretched pale curds in the basin. “You might be so privileged to understand a single weave, but unless you go following all surrounding threads, and the threads around those threads, and so on - which, mind you, no human can do - you’ll never understand the picture.”
Severin, who was ten years old and had never seen a grand tapestry, looked at the cheese in the basin and asked if his great-grandmother could make the analogy about that instead.
“No,” she replied. “Time is a tapestry. Cheese is just cheese.”
And that was that.
By fifteen, Severin who was all arms, legs, and untamable black hair, decided he hated prophecies more than anything in the world. He occupied himself instead with long walks atop the white bluffs well beyond his family’s home. Outside, he could look at birds, and talk to the wind, and not think about the terrible prophecy which followed him like a shadow.
His second eldest sister had revealed it - accidentally, of course. Severin lived in a warm and bustling house with his great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, two aunts, and three sisters. All of whom were generously gifted in the art of foretelling (a messy business, each would say if asked), and every one of them had seen Severin’s same bleak thread.
He would die. Willingly stabbed through the heart by his greatest enemy and truest love.
Willingly. That was the worst part, he thought.
Severin, who had no talent in the way of prophecies, but plenty of talent in the realm of wind and sky, marched along the well-worn trail, static sparking around his fingertips as the brackish sea breeze nipped consolingly at his face and hair.
I will protect you if you ask me to, it blustered, and Severin was comforted.
He didn’t care who this foretold stranger was. When this enemy-lover appeared, Severin would ask the wind to pick them up and take them far, far away. Far enough that they could never harm him. The wind whistled in agreement. And so it was settled.
At seventeen, he was still all arms and legs, though his eldest sister had managed to tame his hair with a respectably sharp pair of shears. The wind, who had delighted in playing with his wild, tangled locks, did not thank her for it. Severin did thank her; in fact, he’d asked her to do it. He was of the opinion that his newly shorn hair made him look older - more sophisticated. And he left his family home with a new cloak draping his shoulders and a knotted wooden walking stick in hand, thinking himself very nearly a man. He was far from it, of course. But there was no telling him that.
He set out on a clear, cool morning to find his own way in the world, and was prepared to thoroughly deal with anyone who so much as dared to act ever so slightly in the manner of enemy or lover.
He discovered, soon enough, that this was not a practical attitude to take when venturing into the world. Severin spent his first months away from home making little in the way of friends and plenty in the way of thoroughly baffled enemies.
When you meet his gaze, you’ll know, the wind chided as it whisked in and out of his hood.
“His?” Severin said aloud, lifting a single dark brow. “Do you know something I don’t?”
The wind whistled noncommittally in answer.
The wind did know something, as it turned out. At twenty, Severin stood on the warm, sun-loved planks of a dock. As gulls cried overhead, he pressed his fingers to his lips. The young sailor had touched his lips to Severin’s in a swift, carefree kiss before departing on the sea. And though the feeling was pleasant enough, Severin knew that his enemy-lover was not on the great ship cleaving a path through the cerulean waves.
“When I meet his gaze, I’ll know,” Severin said, golden eyes sweeping the horizon. The seaward breeze blustered in such agreement that the gulls overhead cried out in alarm.
What will you do? The wind asked, delighting in whipping the gulls into a proper frenzy.
“Get rid of him, of course,” Severin replied.
What if you don’t want to?
Severin thought that was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “He’s going to stab me through the heart. Why in the world wouldn’t I want to get rid of him?”
People are foolish, the wind answered, shrugging the nearby sails.
“Not me.” Severin leaned on his stick and looked out at the sea. “I won’t let anyone get away with stabbing my heart.”
When he was twenty-two, Severin knelt at the bedside of a withered, wilting woman. She was a stranger, but the town’s herb witch was away, and Severin happened to be passing through. Though his true strength would always remain with the wind and the sky, the youngest of Severin’s two aunts had a special way with plants, and she’d taught him a fair bit about the many healing properties of the region’s hardy, windblown flora.
He boiled water, adding the few herbs he carried to make a rejuvenating tea. He helped the woman drink, his hand supporting her head and fingers tangling in her sweat drenched hair. After, he pressed a cool cloth to her head, and in the half dark room, she murmured, sharing delirious fears that she would accidentally speak cruel dying words and lay a curse upon him.
Kindly stroking her forehead, Severin assured her that he was not afraid of curses. Even uttered by the dying, a true curse was rarer than the superstitious soldier’s and barbarians liked to believe. Besides, she wasn’t going to die. Severin, who’d seen just enough of the world to have a taste of wisdom, was certain he could save her.
She died within the day.
Whether her condition had been beyond help, or Severin lacked the skills to twist the herbs to his bidding, he would never know. The wind rustled reassurances through the sparsely-leaved trees, but Severin was beyond consolation. Clouds gathered on the horizon, and by nightfall, great branches of lightning crackled across the sky.
He spent the next year and a half in the wilds. Beneath the jubilant light of the sun, he collected plants, acquainting himself with the earth. And beneath the soft, watchful light of the moon, he whispered to the wind and dared to wonder at the shape of his enemy-lover’s face. He could never seem to summon the slightest picture in his mind. Though it really didn’t matter, he supposed. Their eyes would meet, and Severin would know. And then he’d use all of the power at his disposal to send his enemy-lover away.
During this time, Severin sometimes saw bands of barbaric warriors crossing the plains. He kept his distance, but he doubted any of them were interested in either recruiting or killing a scrawny young man in a worn woolen cloak. Few he encountered ever suspected he had any great abilities, and Severin certainly didn’t go out of his way to advertise the fact that he could command the wind and sky when he wished. The barbaric companies had their eyes on more obviously lucrative targets, anyway. A handful of city states which spread across the great peninsula were openly at war with the barbaric tribes from the north.
It was when Severin was returning from his self-imposed isolation that he had his first real encounter with war. He held his sturdy walking stick in hand and carried a bursting bag of herbs, poultices, and leather-bound journals over his shoulder. Severin was so surprised by the sudden, brutal clash of metal and the primal cries that erupted nearby that he halted where he stood. His curiosity both outweighed and outlasted his fear, and after a minute or two of tense consideration, he pressed cautiously onward in the direction of the noise.
By the time he arrived, the battle was done.
It had surely been an ugly, bloody affair, if the splayed out bodies of the city soldiers and barbaric warriors were anything to judge it by. Holding a hand over his mouth, Severin gingerly navigated the carnage and valiantly resisted the impulse to be sick right there in the field. He was nearly on the other side of it when movement caught his eye. Squinting, almost afraid to look, he glanced from the corners of his eyes, sure that it was some grotesque remnant of warfare which awaited him.
Instead, it was a man.
Just a man.
The movement Severin had spotted was the rise and fall of his chest.
Only after turning a careful look around the terrible and silent battlefield did Severin approach the fallen man.
The barbarian’s eyes were closed and his pale brows drew together, as if reflecting pain. His face would probably have been handsome in a rough, simple sort of way if it weren’t smeared in dirt and blood. His light hair, braided and pulled away from his face, was bloodied as well, and Severin frowned at the sorry state of him. After a second wary look around, he knelt with a sigh.
The barbarian’s leather vest was cut, and his thick, scarred arms had earned several new slices as well. Severin, who had more than enough herbs and poultices on hand, reluctantly tore his only spare shirt into bandages. Within the hour the stranger was fully bandaged and muttering in fever addled sleep.
“Don’t worry,” Severin murmured, knotting the last makeshift bandage. “I’ve learned enough from the plants and trees to save you from both fever and infection.”
Behind closed lids, the barbarian’s eyes flitted anxiously to and fro and he mumbled something that sounded like no. Nose wrinkling, Severin leaned in. He heard the sleeping barbarian say, his voice low and cracking, “The curses will take me.”
Severin frowned down at him, unimpressed. “No they won’t,” he snapped, and yanked the bandage tighter.
The barbarian silenced then, and Severin stared at him a moment longer, pursing his lips in consternation. It wasn’t that he minded using his supplies to heal a stranger. But a part of him worried that healing a warrior made Severin responsible for whatever slaughter he resumed when he rose.
Severin abhorred warfare. It was such a terrible waste. But he supposed there was no helping what he’d already done. The barbarian was already on his way to recovery, and Severin certainly wasn’t going to murder him in his sleep. He reached out, intending to test the temperature at the man’s temple, but no sooner had Severin’s fingers touched his overheated skin than the world bled around him. In its place: a vision.
Shock echoed through him, because he was not like the women in his family, able to see phantoms in time. He’d always simply played with the air. The vision dancing before his gaze, however, didn’t seem to care.
Like droplets of ink spreading in water, a prism of colors twisted, threading together into nearly tangible shapes. From the chaos, rose a blond child holding a knit sheep. He was ruddy cheeked and pouting up at his mother. Then ink and water swirled and the images collapsed and shifted. Hulking shadows loomed over the child. The mother wailed her grief. The formless ink shivered, morphing from one scene to the next, nearly too quickly to follow, and Severin was swallowed up in it, overrun and overwhelmed by violence, blood, and pain. Beneath his fingers, Severin felt the movement of shifting, slipping thread.
Just as abruptly as it had started, the vision ceased. Severin’s knees ached where they pressed against the dirt and the barbarian’s skin beneath his hand was no longer overheated. How long had he been within the vision’s grasp, he wondered?
As Severin shifted back, the barbarian groaned. Severin watched as the man’s eyelids fluttered - and at once, the air turned heavy, as if the wind had drawn and held an anticipatory breath.
Dread flooded Severin and he rushed to stand. The barbarian had not yet opened his eyes, and Severin knew with a terrible nameless certainty that he must not be here when this man awoke. Severin could still feel those elusive, unknowable threads beneath his fingers, and his hands shook as he rose. Awakened by his urgency, the wind roared, lending him speed as he fled the clearing.
By the time the barbarian cracked open a single, world weary eye, Severin was long gone, heart still safely beating in his chest.
Severin endeavored to forget about the barbarian. He convinced himself that the vision had been the hallucination of an overexerted body, and that the sensation of inexorably moving threads beneath his fingers was nothing more than a flight of fancy. Severin did not think about how the threads had felt - certain and unyielding - beneath his fragile, very mortal hands. If he did, he feared he might ask the wind to whisk him away from the world altogether, and that, surely, was no way to live.
In a deep, secret place, however, Severin suspected the reason he was granted such a vision was because the stranger’s thread was woven perilously close to his own. Because of this, he set upon an easterly road, endeavoring to put a healthy distance between himself and the pale barbarian.
After nearly a month of travel, he arrived in a small village which sat nestled in foothills, tucked beneath the shadows of great mountains which stood like sentinels above. Severin hadn’t intended to stay, but when it was discovered he had some skill with plants and medicine, the villagers eagerly led him to a hut some distance from the village. It was empty, they explained, and had been for some years. A healing woman had occupied it, some years back, before she’d passed on. The villagers had been saving it, hoping the space would be enough to entice a new healer to make their isolated village a home.
Severin had nowhere else to go, and he supposed a distant, mountain village was as good a place as any to avoid a blade to the heart.
Two years passed, and Severin settled into his little hut. He spent his mornings taking long walks around the surrounding lands, collecting herbs and specimens. Returning home, he’d throw open the windows to allow his friend the wind a brief but wild rampage through the hut. With the air freshened, Severin spread plants across his square dining table and sorted them into jars to be sealed, dried, or preserved in vinegar. His neighbors in the village visited frequently, just as often for his company as for his medicines, and Severin delighted in visiting the town on market days and making the streamers dance in the wind for the children. Evenings were spent in his rocking chair, with a book in his lap and his feet pressed near to the low fire in the hearth.
He was happy, and hardly thought of the barbarian he’d found bleeding in the dirt. That is, until fate caught up with him.
One day, when he was foraging for moss on the hillside behind his hut, Severin felt the whisper-soft touch of thread against his palm. He sat upright at once, and turning and craning his neck, he absently rubbed his palms against his robes.
A company marched into the village. From up on Severin’s hill, they appeared a swarm of ants overtaking the miniature thatched roof homes. The slipping, shivering feeling beneath Severin’s palm intensified, and he stood. His heart drummed a frantic beat against his ribs, and Severin felt with a terrible certainty that fate, like a hunting hound on the scent, had sniffed him out at last.
When Severin called out, begging the wind’s help, it rushed to him, howling atop the hill.
I am here. I am here.
Cradled in the gale, he begged the wind to take him and hide him away, so that the tapestry’s relentless threads might cease dragging him toward the one he never wished to meet.
So be it, the wind said. If that is truly what you wish, I will take you and hide you away forever.
In that moment, nearly caught as he was, Severin was willing to do anything to avoid meeting this man who would kill him - until the screams rose from the pastures in the valley beneath his hut. Severin’s heartbeat was in his throat, on his very tongue, as he held up a hand to stay the wind.
“Just a moment,” he murmured, and turned bright, pained eyes toward the village. The terrified screams of his neighbors pierced him as surely as any blade, and with a mournful twist of his fingers, he bade the wind disperse.
By the time he reached in the pastures, the shepherd, the blacksmith, and Helvia’s two sons lay dead. At the sight of his friend’s bodies, grief and rage stirred within Severin, and the wind, always nearby to him, trembled in sympathy. Gaze sweeping the warriors, he marked the five whose weapons were stained red. Severin was not violent by nature, but if he was to die this day, he resolved to remove from the earth at least these five men, who with bloodied blades, uncaringly spoke of feasting upon the village’s few precious sheep.
When the warriors turned and finally noticed Severin, he lifted his chin and prayed his voice did not betray his fear. “These are simple people. They have little in way of money or goods. It wasn’t for nothing that the shepherd, blacksmith, and teenagers died. They need these sheep. And I cannot allow you to take them.”
The men glanced at one another, eyes filling with a cruel sort of mirth. They laughed at him, and Severin steeled himself for what must come next. He was friends with the wind, but to call down the heavens was an entirely more serious matter. And he’d never done it. At least, not like this.
Severin turned his palms up and glared at the heavens, daring them to refuse him now when he needed them most.
For a long, terrible moment, nothing happened.
And then, the skies erupted.
He had never felt pure, visceral power in such a way, and as it whined and crackled, Severin, with splayed fingers, used all of his strength to tear the lightning from its home in the sky. It rained upon the warriors, screaming in wild, untamable fury. Severin watched the men cry out in agony, and he felt horror and satisfaction in equal measure.
When a single figure broke from the group, agile enough to evade the lightning and charge across the field, Severin could only look on in exhausted realization. It was the pale barbarian. The man from the battlefield. The child in the vision.
The barbarian charged like a beast, his thickly braided hair bouncing. His brows were drawn down in focus and his lips poised on the precipice of a snarl. It was with a hopeless sense of finality that Severin met the stranger’s gaze.
He met eyes of icy gray, the color of hazy, snow capped mountains in winter, and Severin knew, he knew with a certainty that was sunken into his bones and twisted in his marrow, that this barbarian was the shadow which had haunted him. And he knew, more than anything, the crude blade in the man’s scarred-knuckle hand was fate’s exclamation point at the end of Severin’s ephemeral existence.
Watching as the barbarian pivoted, drawing back his blade, Severin only wished he understood why the women in his family had persisted in calling this man Severin’s truest love. If this was love, the man had a spectacularly terrible way of showing it.
Time slowed to a crawl, and sunlight flashed, reflecting off the blade. As the jagged edge touched the fabric of Severin’s robe, the wind whispered at his ear. Let me show you a piece of the picture.
The wind around him froze, and so too did the world.
Look up, said the wind, a rustle within his ear.
The complexly woven image was shaped by currents in the air - all but invisible to any whose eyes are untrained to look for them. But Severin had a born understanding of the wind and sky, and when he looked up, he saw bits and pieces of an impossibly complex tapestry.
He saw scarred knuckles gently shaping wood. A small child that sat upon broad shoulders. Rocking chairs placed side by side before a glowing fire. Warm hands enveloping his own. Safety. Home.
It was...everything, and Severin’s heart ached with a strange and complex longing for a future that surely could never be.
It’s not impossible, the wind whispered. But the threads will have to tangle and untangle just perfectly so.
“How?” Severin asked, and wondered if he was a fool to feel so desperate a pull towards this life glimpsed in impressions and half images.
The warrior must weep and repent. And a curse must come to fruition.
“And if these things do not happen?”
Then your soul will fade from the earth.
Severin felt torn in two.
The blade has not yet struck your heart, the wind murmured, kind and conspiratorial. There is time still for me to secret you away. I could pull your thread from the tapestry altogether.
“But there would be no hope for that life,” Severin said with a last wistful glance at the scattered mosaic above.
No, none, the wind agreed.
“Okay,” Severin whispered, “okay.” And it felt terrifyingly like surrender.
The wind stirred, and a breeze like a kiss tousled his dark hair.
The blade struck.
It was an intense pressure and then swift, vibrantly blooming pain. Severin wavered on his feet, and looked up. For the second time, he met the warrior’s gaze. And Severin saw and understood that there was no malice in those wintry eyes. Not even frustration or anger. But, instead, an exhaustion deeper than Severin could conceive.
When Severin toppled backward, it was concerning to realize he could no longer feel the grass beneath his body. The man knelt down, and Severin blinked tiredly up at him.
It seemed as though the man were waiting for something. Severin’s slipping mind struggled to think of what - until he recalled the dying woman and her talk of curses. And hadn’t the barbarian said something about curses when he was fever addled and hurt? What had the wind said? Severin was struggling to remember. As his life trickled away in red rivulets which stained the grass and soil, he thought of the boy in the vision - lost and afraid. And he thought of the man he’d become, kneeling stonily over him.
And Severin knew exactly which words should be his last.
Swallowing, he mustered the strength to whisper, “-my hut…it’s just past…the next hill over. In it, I keep medicines and herbs. For the villagers. And travelers who pass.”
For the barbarian would have to stay if he were ever to show remorse. He couldn’t very well continue going about fighting and murdering his way across the peninsula. Which brought Severin to his final words. It took all of his remaining strength to lift his hand. When he reached out, the barbarian startled, as though he expected more lightning to spring forth from Severin’s fingers. But Severin merely tapped his chest and smiled. “May you live a life of safety and peace.”
It was a fitting curse, he thought, feeling particularly clever. And there, on the field, surrounded by sheep, Severin’s heart stuttered and stopped.
It was an abrupt, slipping sensation, like losing your footing on iced over earth. Raw existence rushed around Severin, and he was battered and blown about, like a banner torn loose in the storm. This continued for a dizzying moment, or perhaps a dizzying eternity - Severin really had no way of knowing which. But it stopped when a familiar presence surged around him, blowing and blustering until the wild chaos of existence was forced to let him be.
The wind could not protect him forever, Severin knew, and so he focused his energies until, like a wind sprite, he swirled about the hillside. Below him, he saw the barbarian, his great head bent. Severin, as incorporeal as a breeze, could not resist blustering over the barbarian’s shoulder and observing himself, limp and pitiful in death. Whipping around, he beheld the barbarian - because surely this sight would bring him at least to the verge of tears.
The barbarian frowned down at Severin’s body and rubbed a scarred hand over the patches of stubble on his chin. And then he rose with a great sigh and set off down the hillside, away from Severin and the village.
Severin, who was nothing more than wind and spirit, watched him and despaired. He could do nothing more than whip and howl through the hills as his murderer left him without a backward glance.
Severin did not follow after the barbarian. What good would it do? In this form, it wasn’t as though Severin could speak to him. And if he was doomed to fade and dissolve from existence, he would much rather do so here in the hills he loved than in some strange land trailing after an even stranger man. The wind kept him company, at least, and Severin spent his days whistling through the black, porous stones at the base of the mountains and blowing bits of dandelions across wild tufts of grass.
One day, long after Severin had begun to feel more spread out and thin than was entirely comfortable, the wind rushed to him, carrying with it the scent of dust and dirt and faraway lands.
The barbarian had returned.
Severin was an icy breeze that whipped around the edges of town, and he watched with cool distrust as the man trudged through the streets. His shoulders were slumped and his blond head was turned down. He looked utterly defeated, and any sympathy Severin might have felt was eclipsed by petty spite. He didn’t hold any of the pettiness against himself, though. He was dead, and therefore felt he’d earned at least a little pettiness.
When the barbarian crossed the field, stopping to stand before the place where Severin had fallen, Severin swirled around him, newly curious. The man didn’t look grief stricken, but his face was difficult to read. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and lines of exhaustion around his mouth. Mostly, Severin thought he just looked tired.
When the man approached Severin’s home after having ignored the invitation for months, Severin had a second moment of pettiness and whipped the wind up on the other side of the door, sealing it closed as the barbarian tried to open it. Only when the man shoved it with his great, muscled shoulder did Severin retreat, allowing the door to swing open.
It was with a strange sort of melancholy that he watched the barbarian’s silver gaze sweep over the room. The man looked first at the damp, unkempt hearth before slowly making his way across the room. He glanced from Severin’s well-loved walking stick to the bookshelf built into the wall. He fumblingly ran the backs of his fingers along the spines of the books, as if he was unlearned in the ways of a gentle touch.
Severin was still very much put out about the whole being dead business, but as he watched the barbarian’s almost reverent inspection, he unthinkingly twisted the air in the room, drawing out the cold and pulling in a bit of sun warmed breeze.
By the second day, the man was sitting in Severin’s chair. Severin stewed, swatting at floating dust by the window as his killer rocked to and fro in Severin’s favorite seat. Later, the barbarian stood, stretching his strong arms overhead and twisted his back experimentally. Brows lifting in pleasant surprise, he gave the chair an appreciative pat.
By the third day, Severin had no more dust to swat about. The barbarian had rolled up his ragged sleeves and set about scrubbing every inch of Severin’s little hut. When the hulking man worked open the stiff windows, the wind rushed in, delighting in whipping about the space once more.
He’s done a better job of cleaning than you ever did, the wind sang, slipping once more outside.
He was dead and that meant the wind had to be nice, and Severin told it as much. It’s reply was a soft rustling of chimes that hung from the house’s eaves, and the sound was almost like laughter.
Days passed, and the man began reading Severin’s books. This was probably the most surprising development yet, in Severin’s opinion. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought the large, scarred warrior capable of reading, just - well, he hadn’t thought the large, scarred warrior capable of reading particularly well. But the man seemed to be doing just fine, and sat in Severin’s rocking chair, putting a far greater strain on the sturdy wood than Severin ever had, as he thumbed carefully through the book’s smooth pages.
When little Mykela took ill, Severin knew it well before anyone else. He’d taken a spin through town and as he rode the wintry wind past where she played in the yard, he’d felt the rattle of air in her lungs. But at this point, Severin was little more than a memory on the breeze, and though his worry was agony, he could do absolutely nothing. He spent the rest of the day roaring about the mountain peaks, sending snow flurries spilling down the far side of the cliffs.
Two days later, Severin was idly observing the barbarian, watching the crease between his brows twitch as he slept, when a great pounding broke out against the door. The barbarian rose at once, and Severin watched him cast a brief glance at the walking stick before turning instead to the candle on a nearby shelf. With warm light cupped in his palm, the barbarian approached the door.
When Dormund, Mykela’s father, entered the hut, carrying a limp mound of blankets, Severin felt a spike of icy terror. As the barbarian poked and prodded the fire, Severin carefully stirred the wind to better feed the flames. Severin would have shouted instructions, had he lungs to shout, but the barbarian already had two jars in hand. He held them up, looking a little lost, before he hurried to the bookshelf and selected a thick book. Muttering under his breath, he flipped hurriedly through pages until he found what he was looking for. And then he was kneeling before the pot of water he’d set over the fire, and Severin watched as he scooped careful measurements of Severin’s dried herbs into the roiling water.
Mykela was saved, and as the barbarian sent the girl and her father off with a bag of herbs, it occurred to Severin that he wished to know the barbarian’s name. He wouldn’t learn it until two days later, when Old Cara arrived at the hut, seeking the barbarian’s help for her arthritic knee. After supplying her with the appropriate poultice, the barbarian helped her to the door, and looking up, she patted his shoulder and asked him his name.
Eindred, was his answer.
Severin wished he had lips to test the shape of the name.
Months passed, and was easier now to watch Eindred move about Severin’s hut. In fact, Severin had even begun to enjoy riding the soft breeze from the windows as it wafted around Eindred’s shoulders, curiously observing whatever small thing he happened to, at any given time, be doing with his hands. One day, Severin was surprised to find Eindred’s hands at work, deliberately whittling the curved back of a rocking chair. When the chair was done, Eindred set it carefully, almost reverently beside the first. At the sight, Severin had a bright, nearly overwhelming flash of recognition, and he thought of the image the wind had shown him - of the rocking chairs before a warm, crackling fire.
Severin was fading, he could feel it. To hope was to court a greater disappointment than Severin could rightly comprehend, and yet - he watched Eindred set out with Severin’s walking stick to join the festival, and saw when Mykela took his hand. The barbarian’s stony expression softened, then melted as the girl tugged him after her.
It was the strangest of sensations, because while Severin didn’t strictly have a heart these days, watching the great Eindred meekly follow little Mykela made something in Severin’s incorporeal being ache with unexpected warmth.
Whatsmore, Eindred had been reading Severin’s journals and he would sometimes stop and stare about the hut, as if trying to picture the ghost of Severin’s life there. Once, Eindred draped a thick blanket over the back of one of the rocking chairs and ran his rough hands over it as he frowned contemplatively into the fire.
Summer had come and gone and Severin feared that parts of his soul had already begun to slip into that other-place. And so, with a tender sort of weariness, he drifted on the sunbeams cutting through the clean window glass, and watched with only mild annoyance as Eindred carefully tore a blank page from one of Severin’s journals.
Lips pressing together in focus, Eindred wrote in with small, precise letters, what appeared to be a list.
Confused, Severin drifted closer.
May your every loved one die screaming in pain.
I hope you die with your eyes stabbed out and your heart in your hands.
You will never know happiness.
Your existence will be suffering.
It was a list of curses, Severin realized. Morbid curses, by the looks of it. The last two, however, caught his attention.
May your greatest enemy rise from the grave and never leave you alone.
May you live a life of safety and peace.
And Severin understood.
When Eindred set out from the hut, looking drawn but resolved, Severin began at once to gather his energy. It had been nearly a year since his death, and he feared that there might not be enough of him left to make a return. The second to last curse would help things along, but Severin knew it would be a mistake to rely on it.
And so, as Eindred entered the village, Severin stretched upward and out, calling wind and storm clouds with reckless, hopeful abandon. For his entire life, Severin had lived, certain in the knowledge that love and happiness were not meant for one such as he. How could they be? When a blade was foretold to make a home in his heart?
But Eindred had changed. And the patchwork pieces of tapestry were there, a life Severin had never dared to dream of, right there - if he could only summon the strength to reach out and grasp it.
Below, Eindred bowed his head before the townsfolk, confessing his part in the tragedy which played out on their soil. Above, Severin swallowed the skies and became the storm.
Severin felt it, distantly below, when the people in the village forgave Eindred. And he felt when Eindred’s bittersweet tears tickled the earth. He felt Eindred return to the hut, and then after pacing restlessly about, return at last to the pastures where it had all begun.
And then came Eindred’s pained voice, calling out from the fields below. “Severin!”
Eindred had never said his name before, and Severin, who was the clouds and the wind and the rain and the sky, rumbled his joy at the sound of it.
“It was my hand which ended your life,” Eindred continued. His deep voice was shaking. “And with your dying breath you gifted what I thought was a nightmare. Did you know that it would turn out to be a dream? I think you did.”
Just wait, Severin wanted to tell him, because he’d seen a future better still. The only question that remained was whether he had strength enough to reach it.
Rugged face upturned, Eindred called to Severin and the sky, which were one and the same. “Though it’s a dream, I’ll never know peace. How can I? When I live in the home of the one I so coldly murdered? I would leave, but the villagers have my heart - as they had yours. In this state, I don’t think I’ll ever truly know true rest or true peace - despite the great power of your curse.”
You will, Severin said, and lightning streaked across the sky. I will.
“Even now,” Eindred said, through wind and rain, “I’m not sure if you are my greatest enemy or ally.”
There it was.
His greatest enemy.
Severin, with every ounce of power he possessed, claimed the title. For he was the greatest enemy the old Eindred, warrior and killer, had faced. With his parting curse, Severin had forced the old Eindred to do the one thing he’d feared most of all: to live and face all he’d done.
Severin felt a rushing, coursing energy thrumming within and without and he knew that he must catch it and hold it, though he wasn’t sure how.
The tapestry threads, the wind whispered. Severin had spread so thin, his old friend was nearly a part of him now.
Severin listened, and felt for that thread which had teased and tickled his palm. And when he was sure he felt it, he wrapped himself around it and pulled. The sky around him screamed as he dragged himself forward toward something - something -
White light was all around him, and then it wasn’t. The air was cool and damp, and the evening sang with the wind’s gleeful gusts and the soft patter of rain on grass. Severin lifted a hand, and looked it over in tentatively blooming relief. Pressing the hand over his heart which beat with a strong, steady rhythm, Severin breathed a relieved, ragged sigh.
Eindred stood in the field, turned away from him. Drawing in a breath, Severin delighted in the sound of his own voice. “May your greatest enemy rise from the grave, Eindred, and never leave you alone.” He smiled as he spoke, and very nearly pressed his fingers to his lips to feel the shape they took when saying Eindred’s name.
Eindred turned. “So you are my greatest enemy then?” He sounded wary.
“I don’t think it’s so simple as that. Do you?”
Eindred’s expression shifted and he shook his head. When he next spoke, it was soft and fumbling, as if he still hadn’t fully adjusted to a world which was kind. “I made a chair,” he blurted out. “A few actually,” he added, rubbing a hand over the back of his head.
Severin wanted to say, I know. I saw. But that would require more explanation than he cared to give at the moment, so instead, he replied, “Do I get the new rocking chair or my old one?”
“Any,” Eindred stammered, “Either. Both?” He looked at Severin, and the earnest weight of his gaze held the promise of all the chairs Severin could want and anything else Eindred could possibly make with his scarred hands.
The fondness that bubbled up within Severin was so abrupt and filled him so thoroughly that he wanted to laugh with it. “Lucky for you, I only need one chair. You can keep the old one if you like it. I trust your craftsmanship.”
Severin turned then, because it was cold and every part of him felt so entirely bright and buoyant that he thought he might die if he didn’t move. However, when he realized Eindred was not following, he stopped. “Well? Are you coming?”
Eindred looked up, as if he’d been startled. “Where?” he called.
Standing there, sodden in the field, Eindred looked after Severin, as if he was afraid to hope - as Severin once had been afraid to do. And it occurred to Severin that Eindred would need to hear it said aloud.
“Home, of course. Where else?”
“Home,” Eindred repeated, as if confirming it to himself.
And when Severin turned again towards home, Eindred followed.
By the time they reached the hut, both were shivering from the cold, and as they crossed the threshold into the warm space, Severin swayed on his feet. He’d almost forgotten the immense power he’d used, and now the harsh ringing in his ears was a stark reminder. Warm, rough hands steadied him and when Severin tilted his head up, he saw that Eindred wore an expression of poorly concealed terror.
“I’m not going to die all over again,” Severin assured him. “I just used a lot of magic.” As he said it, he swayed once more, this time falling forward.
Eindred caught Severin again, one arm wrapped around his back and his other hand braced against his chest. Beneath where Eindred’s palm pressed, Severin’s heart thrummed. And Severin watched, curious, as Eindred’s expression twisted. He no longer claimed the title of warrior, Severin knew, but it was nonetheless with a warrior’s gravity that Eindred met Severin’s gaze.
“These hands will never again harm you. I swear it.”
“I know,” Severin replied, and pressed a hand over the back of Eindred’s rough knuckles. “Help me to a chair?”
Eindred did, and helped to remove Severin’s thick outer robe before Severin sank gratefully in front of the fire. Eindred left him a moment, and Severin closed his eyes.
He intended to just rest them for a second - maybe two, but when Severin next opened his eyes, the room was darker and he was draped and bundled in blankets, softer and thicker than any he recalled owning. The fire was still crackling, and the warm light made soothing shadows dance across the hut’s wooden floor. The other chair was occupied, Severin realized, and he watched as the hearth’s orange light played across Eindred’s sleeping features. Compared to Severin’s mountain of blankets, he had just one draped over his lap, though he didn’t seem cold. Nonetheless, Severin shifted a bit, and peeled a soft fleece blanket off his own pile to toss it onto him. The blanket fell short, and with a quick whispered word, the wind slipped under the door and flipped the offending blanket up onto Eindred’s chest.
“That’s better,” Severin said.
The wind played a little with the fire before tousling Severin’s hair and departing with a sibilant, save your strength foolish human. You’re still recovering, and slipped out the way it had come.
When Severin turned back to Eindred, he saw the large man was sitting up and his eyes were now open. Blinking, Eindred rubbed a hand over his face and then, stiffening in sudden shock, he whipped to look at Severin. Heaving a great sigh, he rocked back in the chair. “Still breathing,” he said.
“I don’t plan on stopping.”
Something almost like a smile twitched at Eindred’s lips and Severin was enchanted by it.
“You were dead and now you’re alive. Forgive me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
“You’re the one who believes in silly curses.”
Eindred’s brows rose. “Silly? Says the one who was brought back from the dead by one.”
Severin waved a dismissive hand. “The curse might have set the stage, but I was director, crew, and cast.”
And there was another smile, like a glimpse of sun between clouds. Severin was beginning to fear there might be no practical limit to the lengths he’d be willing to go to see another smile.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Eindred replied. “I get the feeling you know a great deal more about the world and magics than I.”
“Well Eindred,” Severin said, scooting his chair a little closer to both Eindred and the fire. “What do you know of grand tapestries?”
Eindred, looking more than a little lost, shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one.”
“Well,” Severin said, and grinned. “What do you know of cheese?”
EDIT: A novel based on Eindred and the Witch and The Witch Who Spoke to the Wind is in progress! I will post news about it on my Tumblr and my Patreon as news becomes available :)
then dream girl walks in
εїз pairing: fezco x f!reader
εїз warnings: just like cussing, cuteness, slight angst and poorly explained murder history this time... BEWARE
εїз word count: 4155
εїз summary: the aftermath of cold cuts in the moonlight.
εїз a/n: heyyyyy i’m back with part two. i was really surprised that anyone would like my first fic so sorry if this is like a one hit wonder sort of deal. again this fic works for both lexi or y/n pov. this is based off of what we’ve seen in epi 1&2 of season 2. i hope you enjoy!!!!!!
Waking with just the sun to keep her company, all signs of him were gone as if he had never existed. Even his green knitted sweater had been moved from the spot she placed it last night. Wait... she smiled.
Looking at her phone, its lock screen revealed the confirmation that Fez coming over was so not a dream. Fez’s message read “thank u for last night”. Swiping the technology open, she found another text sent 2 minutes after the first. She grinned looking it over again in case she was imagining it.
“Fez: call me when u wake up”
Going to rub the dried saliva off her cheek and fix her hair in the mirror, she prepared herself for the phone call. What the fuck was she doing? He wouldn’t be able to see her. Why was she being such an idiot and not calling him already? Picking up the phone, her stomach full of anxiety, she tapped his contact and hit the call button.
It rang once. Once! God, that was an ego boost or maybe he was already on his phone? Yeah, that makes way more sense. “Y/n?” she could hear the smile on his lips which caused one to grow on hers. “Hey Fez.” she replied and he chuckled “Someone likes to sleep in don’t they?”. Looking at the time, her clock read 10 am. Knowing he was just teasing, she joined in “Yeah well I didn’t have plans on sneaking out of girl's windows, so I had time to get my beauty sleep.”. Fez enjoyed how quickly they could riff off each other. It made him feel like he had known her for twenty years even though it had been just two days. “It wasn’t easy leaving your side but someone had to do it.” he replied sarcastically.
“I see you took your sweater with you too.” Her subconscious let the last sentence slip as she couldn't take her eyes off the spot it was once placed. “Yeah, thanks for grabbing it for me. I can’t believe you remembered it by the end of the party.” Fez admitted. “Well there wasn’t much left of the party after the whole incident.” she confessed, causing Fez to apologise. “Oh shit, sorry about that wasn’t tryna ruin your night.” he said. She quickly replied, “No my night ended 10x better than it would’ve if you didn’t beat the fuck out of Nate.”. Shit, why was she bringing up Nate Jacobs? Clearly, he had his reasons to hate the kid, anybody that met Nate would have them within 5 seconds. She knew he was abusive towards Maddie and had this weird collection of dicks on his phone, so she was absolutely fine with what Fez had done. He had distracted her from her thoughts saying “I think I feel the same way.”. That made her curl up into her bed basically speechless which left a silence over the phone. But he was referring to Nate, right? Shit now she made it awkward. She should speak, say something. This moment was a reminder to herself to not let the infatuation she had for him redefine the actual words coming out of his mouth. On the other end Fezco was worried she thought he was referring to Nate but was way too fucking scared to correct the statement with a “because of you.”. So he tried to shift the conversation to a lighter note.
“I peeped those books you like reading so much.”. Okay, so he didn't really have many conversations that didn't involve drugs so he wasn't the sharpest with choosing topics. I mean no one ever cared to listen to him if a payment amount wasn't coming out of his mouth. This was fresh territory for him.
“Oh, you find anything you like?”. So he took his time leaving. God, she hoped she looked somewhat presentable asleep. Not like a zombie, you know? Hair a mess, mouth agape, arms over her head in like a starfish position. She wished that when he left she was in one of those cute sleeping beauty poses. It would be unrealistic for her but she hoped. Fez replied “I’m not much of a reader.”. Great it's like every other sentence that came out of her mouth was just a new form of humiliation. He continued “...but I’m surprised you're one of those astrology girls.”.
It wasn't that she hasn't tried multiple times to look up her birth chart and find out what all the signs meant in their placements. But nobody would be able to tell that from her book collection, so she simply replied “What do you mean? I don’t have any astrology books.”. Okay, now Fez was confused. He could have sworn the words he read from her bookshelf were the same he would have to hear come out of almost every high schooler's mouth that walked through his shop. So he asked, “What about that bright yellow one that looks like Ashtray wrote all over it?”.
Looking over at her shelf she finally understood what he was talking about “Ohhh the zodiac one. That’s not about astrology Fez, it's about a serial killer.”. “Serial killer?” she could hear the surprise in his voice. It made sense, she didn't really give off into serial killer vibes but like who does? “Yeah, it's really interesting actually. It's like a compilation of this one dudes kills and how he like terrorized California in the ’60s but no one knew who he was. He'd send letters and encryptions to the newspapers at the time. It was like this huge game of cat and mouse with him and the police.”. Fez would never get over being completely transfixed by her. The way she talked to him like he was a human. No one had done that in a long time.
“Who won?” Fez asked thoroughly interested in the things she shared with him, opening doors he never knew existed. “He did actually. It's still like unsolved but I'm pretty sure a group of internet sleuths claim it's some guy named Gary.” she answered. Fez wanted to know more so he asked “How many people did he kill.”. She knows she just told herself she wouldn't look for more meaning in the things he said but he totally seemed into what she had to say and literally no one ever did when she spoke. Even if she tried to push down the way she felt about him she couldn’t. Was she falling for him? Okay maybe if she just pushed like a little harder on her emotions they wouldn’t bubble over. Right?
“Well, 5 confirmed but could be up to like 28.” She let out, trying to not let her thoughts distract her from the conversation she was having with Fez. “Damn, Gary got around.” he laughed and she joined “Oh God, wait till I tell you about Issei Sagawa, that bitch ate a girl and got away with it!”. Yeah, she liked this better, getting to be present with him.
“How you know about the coolest shit?” Fez questioned. She laughed and replied honestly “Lots of time alone to ask random questions I wanna know the answers to.”. Looking back she's really glad she didn't let her insecurities stop her from telling Fez the truth. Because if she didn't she'd never get to know about one of the cutest things Fez does. “I get dat, sometimes on long shifts I watch videos of snails eating just cuz it looks cool.” Fez admitted. “No way they have videos of them just eating for like free?” she would have never imagined she would have this kind of conversation with Fez. “I mean yeah I'd be worried if people paid for it.” he responded. “Yeah… who would pay to watch that..?.'' she made him laugh. God she loved hearing his laugh. It was like when you finally get out of school on a Friday. Immediately taking a breath of air and letting the sun hit your face, just beautiful. Fez interrupted her daydreaming with a “You eat yet, snail girl?”. “Snail girl? You're the one that watches the videos.” She quipped “And you're the one that would pay for them, now don't try ‘n scoot around the question just to stay on the phone wit pretty ole me.”. She was surprised he could tell she was trying to put off ending the call. She still tried to though, joking “A girl says she wouldn't care if you smelled like dog shit once and he thinks he's the bee's knees.”. Laughing at her remark Fez replied “Ima ignore the old ass shit comin out yo mouth and let you go eat.”. “Fez” she practically whined “Y/n.” he responded. Finally, she spoke up again “Fine... Talk to you later?” and he repeated her own sentence back to her lowering his voice as if he knew what it did to her. Swooned. It made her physically swoon.
With the silence now filling her ears, she collapsed on her bed. She then began swinging her legs in the air like a kid that just found out they're going to Disneyland. This would have made her feel embarrassed but the energy that Fez had injected into her by just talking made her look past it and listen to his suggestion.
She had started this ritual, well would it count as a ritual if she's only done it twice? That must at least be the beginning of the creation of a ritual. Well, it didn't matter, doing anything with Fez felt like the start of a ritual. One that she’d want to continue for the rest of her life. The “ritual” would start at 9 pm. She would finish up her homework and pour a mixture of grenadine, orange juice and ginger ale in a cup creating one of her favourite drinks.
Her father first taught her the recipe after her incessant begging to try one of the many drinks her mother would down throughout the day. The one her father made looked like her mother's but she later realised tasted much different. She'd put together the drink and run to her room, closing the door and carefully situating herself right before her phone would ring. On the dot at 9 pm.
Seeing Fez's contact pop up brought a smile to her face as she quickly answered “Hey Fez.'' he'd reply “I'm not interrupting anything am I?” she'd laugh thinking if he ever actually did she'd never say as nothing she’d ever do would be better than getting the chance to talk to him, so she would answer “No, not at all.”. He’d laugh then say “Good. So how was your day?”.
Today she felt like complaining. She's never really done it that much as she's never had someone to complain to, but Fez made her comfortable enough to just let her kind of negative words spew out of her mouth. It had started with her rant on this year's freshman that still walked on the wrong side of the hall and bumped into her even though they've had like four months to learn to walk the same as every other fucking person in the building. That then turned to her history class and how the teacher wouldn't shut up about how impossible it seemed that the Pyramids were built by hand with just the technology at the time. She told Fez how she just wanted to yell at them. How these questions are only asked about buildings made by people of colour. Oh, the Aztecs and Egyptians no way! But those cathedrals made by Europeans? Oh no, let's not question that. He couldn't see her eyes rolling so she'd tell him every time to really conjure the effect.
When she talked about the theory she had that every teacher sat the dumbest kid next to her for every class she's ever been Fez joked anyone would sound stupid compared to her. This stopped her sour mood completely.
She listened to him when he told her on his break he organised a list of links on his notes app of videos of different animals eating on YouTube for her. Her heart felt like it could explode and when he eagerly added that he even found one of a ferret her heart actually did explode, metaphorically of course but the point still stands. The way he cared for her, remembered her, and listened to her made her feel like she could kind of understand why Cassie was so boy obsessed. If this was how they were all like she would mourn the lost time she spent not actively seeking their attention.
What she was currently mourning though was the beginning of their phone call as that was farthest away from when their talk would have to end. If it wasn't for Fez’s care of her getting a full 8 hours of sleep every night she'd never hang up the phone. But when the time came she wasn't totally taken over with sorrow as hearing Fez wish a goodnight in her ear sent butterflies to her stomach and a smile to her face causing her to whisper it back. Allowing his words to echo in her head as she drifted off sent her into some of the best sleep she's ever felt, like drool puddling in 5 seconds.
Running to her room, mixed drink in hand, she almost slipped on her way in letting the enthusiasm get to her, and almost flying to her phone. 8:59 switched to 9:00 and she gripped the piece of metal tighter. But then 9:01 hit and still no call. Why was he breaking their ritual before it could even begin? That was stupid he hadn't promised it to her. They never laid out the rules, never promised anything. Except making her wait by the phone. But did this really count it felt like she was the one making herself wait? So why not stop waiting? It was only 9:05 she could call him right?
Opening her phone, a notification stopped her. One she so did not want to see. She read it over a second time fully taking it in.
“Fez: business shit came up.”
She understood. It wasn't like he had forgotten about her or chose not to call but that didn't stop the disappointment from creeping into her heart. The butterflies had turned into a big fat mole burrowing itself deeper and deeper into her stomach. It's not like he was feeling much better about the cancellation. He looked forward to talking to her. Fez felt like his whole life all he ever heard was white noise until she came along and whole fucking orchestras started playing.
Getting the call from Custer pissed him off not just because he would now have to pick up his girlfriend and house her for who knows how long, but he also had to let y/n down. He didn't think he made her day just by talking but he felt like they both really enjoyed their calls. He at least did.
Instead of getting to hear her frustrations of East Highlands students and faculty, he had to listen to Faye complain about the motel's landlord or something being mean. He wasn't really sure. He kind of just tuned her out, not giving a shit about what she had to say. Getting home he saw the sandwich he made in preparation to talk to y/n. He loved how small aspects in his life had changed because of these little reminders of her. He wanted more of that.
Now the sandwich was just a reminder that he wouldn't be able to talk to her. Tonight was the only time he wouldn't be working late and he'd finally get to sit on his couch comfortably imagining her with him while she explained who that cannibal motherfucker was. He'd been talking to her during his shifts which were great distractions but getting the chance to dream her into reality would have been a sought after change. God, he was gonna have to bring Faye with him. How the fuck was he supposed to call her when Faye would be scowling at him. He already had to shift away from ashtray so he wouldn't see him smile or have flushed cheeks. He was starting to absolutely hate this setup already.
Going to work with Faye, he tried to figure out how he’ll tell y/n about the lady sitting a couple of feet away from him. Fez didn't have to do much thinking though as y/n had already created a plan to see him hours ago.
She had been in the caf when the idea hit her. She'd just go see him. She needed to tell him what Cassie did. She had to warn him Cal Jacobs knew he was the one that almost killed Nate and if she got to see those beautiful blue eyes that wouldn't suck either. It wouldn't be hard. So she planned after school she would get her homework done, eat and pretend she was going off to bed early. But really she would be sneaking out to see Fez.
Reapplying her lipstick, she waited till it sounded like everyone was asleep then grabbed her bike and travelled towards Fez. She knew the way as she’d been there multiple times before when Cassie and Maddie wanted to get stoned. She never went in though, always staying in the car too worried she would embarrass herself.
Blasting music on her ride over helped her gain some of the confidence she had when she first talked to Fez. Maybe she could actually do this. Parking her bike and placing her coat down she felt her anxiety start to build, but she was already here she couldn't pussy out now. Her whole life she felt like she had been ignoring her intuition but finally, with Fez, everything felt right like she was supposed to be doing this. It had already been written into her story, she just had to follow through with it. So she pulled her hands behind her back and entered the store. And how could she stop the enormous grin from spreading over her face when he called out her name. No, not just her name. Her full name. She didn't know how he got it. From Rue, probably, but like he wanted to know. The thought of her last name popped into his head and he searched for it. That made her feel like she was floating and hearing her name come out of his lips wasn't bad either.
He had been counting the number of bud lights in front of him, trying to pass the time wishing he could get back to that night in her room when everything felt like it was at a standstill. Like the whole world but them had hit the pause button and they could just enjoy each other. Then, like he really did create her from his mind, dream girl walks in.
Seeing her smile made his eyes change from their normal droopy half open state and open fully like she was this splash of cold water waking him up with excitement. God, she made him feel like a kid, giddy and so unsure of his next moves. Even as a kid he didn't feel this innocence. It's like he just skipped over the childhood part everyone else had. Maybe with her, he could squeeze it back into his timeline. I mean her eyes looked like home to him, somewhere he could finally rest and let his guard down. He was entranced by those spheres holding his safe home and didn’t realize at the time that the woman he wanted to call his hideaway was crumbling on the inside.
She saw this blonde girl on his counter like an accessory claiming her name was Faye. Trying not to let herself jump to conclusions, that would absolutely crush her, she straight up asked him. “Are you guys...?”. That was straightforward enough right? She was really new to this and just trying to think on her feet. Then he answered and she felt her heart sink. “Yeah, no, she's just stayin wit me for a bit, but she's cool tho.”. She was trying, okay? Like really trying, but she's literally never done this before and can't read between the lines of a language she doesn't speak.
He said yeah is what she remembered and she was staying with him? Was she the business? A hookup that lasted longer than one night? She had forgotten that competition was a thing like she'd have to fight to be loved. How was she supposed to win this battle? When has a man ever picked her? Come on if a pattern is recreated that many times how is she supposed to believe this time would be different?
Oh shit, he asked her why she's here fuck well she can't be honest now. Fuck she hated how she had to think quickly now. Back when nobody acted like she existed this problem like never occurred. Drinks! She was standing by the drinks that could be her reason! So she lied “oh, I just came here to get a drink.” turning from him in case he'd be able to read the dishonesty on her.
Her emotions had done a 180 in like 5 seconds. She felt like she had been riding waves going to see him. The wind hitting her hair felt exhilarating, but seeing Faye was like a piece of seaweed getting caught on her board, pushed off the confidence she once stood on now reaching for the air that had been knocked out of her trying to keep her head over water. Oh God, he's still talking to her. She just wants to hide under her comforter right now but she's stuck trying to act like she's really interested in whatever cans are in front of her.
He asked if she needed help finding anything so it seemed like her acting abilities weren't total shit. She replied, “No, I'm okay.” and looked down at the fridge. “Uh dats the malt liquor.” Fez said and all she could do was let out a “Yeah, I know.”. She didn't know just so we're clear. If you asked her to describe what malt liquor was exactly she would have no words, but at this moment she was so ready to just grab something at random to get out of there.
And somehow shit got even worse. Seeing Cal Jacobs walking towards the store reminded her how she got wrapped up in the whole Faye situation. That she hadn't told Fez that Nate's dad knew he beat him up. Maybe she wouldn't have to do it herself since the man was now inside as Fez tried to say “Sorry for not calling you-” but he was cut off by Cal asserting a “Good evening.”. She felt like shitting herself as he walked around the store looking at her and the merchandise around them. Once he started a conversation with Fez she began to hold her breath. Like why the fuck was his hand in his pocket?
Trying to get out of his sight feeling his laser like stare on her she hid behind the chips that Fez sat in front of. Fucking hell. She let out her breath as his hand reached for a bag 10 centimetres in front of her face. She could feel his body towering over her and just wanted the moment to end. Oh my fucking God. He did not just ask if she told Fez who he was. Great someone's for sure getting murdered in front of her tonight and she knows like nothing about fighting. How the fuck is she supposed to help Fez? Maybe her lying skills will come in handy when the cops ask her to identify the culprit? Then she'll be able to protect Fez, right? Did Faye really just ask if Cal was a cop right now?
Okay no, she hopes if Cal fires any bullets he'll start with her cause who the fuck says stupid shit like that? She gulped at the silence hoping the whole hand in your pocket thing only happened in movies because Cals was knee deep in his as the silence between him and Fez loomed. All this tension made her want to cuss. Like scream out “What the fuck? A twenty dollar bill that's it? Jesus Christ!”. But she just held in her breath as Fez got up and followed Cal outside to watch him leave.
Once Fez walked outside the store she loudly let out her breath looking at Fez’s back. Then she heard Faye spit out “Whys your fucking sugar daddy so fucking tense?”. Where did Fez find this girl?
“I am ninety-nine percent sure I know who Chat Noir is.”
It was a heck of a thing to drop out of the blue, but since Marinette revealed her identity to Ladybug, Marinette had gotten used to Alya texting or calling at odd hours with sudden revelations.
(“THAT’S how you knew Lila was lying?!”)
(“So when you skipped on our hangout sess a few months ago, was it because-”)
(“I’m just saying, I know I guy who might be able to doxx Hawk Moth.”)
Unlike her usual stunning revelations though, this one was not one Marinette already knew.
“Okay,” Marinette said, blinking to keep her eyes from completely bugging out of their sockets. “How do you-”
“I just felt like I should be honest, you know?” Alya chuckled. “Since...you know-”
“Yeah, no...thanks,” Marinette said, slightly dazed. “I...um...how do you know?”
“Well...let’s just say I noticed a pattern,” Alya said, chewing on the corner of her lip. “Do you want to know who-”
“No,” Marinett said, before quickly adding. “I mean...it would be better to keep things between us secret for now.”
Alya opened her mouth, an argument on the tip of her tongue, but seemed to swallow it with a nod. “Okay...yeah, sure, I get it.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” Marinette said quickly, maybe more for her own benefit than Alya’s. “I do! I swear! I just-”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Alya said quickly.
“And he’s wanted to reveal ourselves to each other for a long time,” Marinette muttered, ignoring Alya’s easy-out. “I was the one who insisted we keep our identities secret and I’m just...really, really not looking forward to the conversation where I tell him I was the one to break our no-sharing rule...you think he’ll be mad?”
“You tell me ,” Alya said, throwing her hands up. “He’s your partner-”
“He’s going to be mad ,” Marinette moaned, burying her face in her hands. “And hurt and-”
“And...so what?” Alya asked.
“So he’s my partner and we already have this...trust...thing between us,” Marinette sighed. “Long story short the last Guardian wasn’t a very good teacher to him and he’s had to deal with being locked out of the loop before...I just worry that I keep asking him to trust me while constantly keeping secrets from him.”
“And he’s keeping one from you,” Alya said gently. “Kind of a crappy situation all around but...well, let’s just say I think he’s a really understanding guy.”
“I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who constantly has to just understand me though,” Marinette said with a wince. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep dumping all my Ladybaggage on you.”
“I’ll tell you if I’ve had enough,” Alya said firmly, squeezing Marinette’s wrist. “I don’t mind; really.”
If she lived another hundred years, she would never stop trying to return the kindness and understanding Alya had displayed to her since revealing her identity.
“Thanks,” Marinette said,, the movie on the screen forgotten as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “So...n-not that I’m prying for details but...this guy you think is Chat Noir-”
“Sounds like you’re prying for details,” Alya snickered. “Don’t tell me you’re curious about him.”
“Of course I am!” Marinette huffed. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“I don’t need to be curious; I figured out my boyfriend’s identity by myself,” Alya said smugly. “You want covert deets?”
Marinette weighed her words carefully before speaking. “Is he...out of costume...when he goes home...is he happy?”
Alya’s expression was unreadable for a long moment. “Do you want the truth or...do you want me to say something that will make you feel good?”
“Well that tells me the truth probably sucks, doesn’t it?” Marinette sighed, rubbing her eyes. “He’s got...he’s got a lot of friends, right?”
“He has a...few really good ones,” Alya reasoned.
“And his family?” Marinette asked.
“His family...exists,” Alya said as diplomatically as she could. “Look, we’re treading on major spoiler territory here; can you tell me what you want to know so I can pull it out from all the other information?”
Marinette stared down at her hands thoughtfully for a moment. “...being the Guardian by myself has been one of the loneliest times in my life. I have you now; I had Master Fu for a lot longer than he did. It would make me feel better if I knew Chat Noir was...okay outside the suit. But I think you just answered my question.”
“Look, I can’t tell you how he feels,” Alya said, rubbing Marinette’s shoulder gently. “I can’t read minds, Mari...but-”
“You think I should tell him about me?” Marinette asked hesitantly.
“I think that’s your call,” Alya said. “Do you want my advice?”
“You think I should talk to him,” Marinette said, deflating a little.
“If he finds out from someone who isn’t you, it’s not gonna do wonders for the whole Trust thing you got going on,” Alya said. “And...look, I think it’s great you reached out to me. And I think whatever you want to do with your identity is your business...but I think he deserves the same opportunity to confide in someone. In fact...I think he really needs it.”
“But how do I know he’ll pick the right person?” Marinette blurted out. “What if he picks someone who Hawk Moth compromises and-”
“Didn’t you just say you trusted him?” Alya asked, stopping Marinette’s catastrophizing in her tracks.
“I do...I promise I do...but-”
“You either do or you don’t,” Alya said softly. “And telling him that you broke your rules and he can’t is not going to convince him you trust him. Saying you trust someone is like saying you’re going to work out; you don’t get the results unless you actually do it.”
“I could pick someone for him,” Marinette muttered, looking up at Alya. “Someone trustworthy.”
“Someone you trust,” Alya said. “This has to be someone he trusts. Or else what’s the point?”
“You already know though!” Marinette said.
“ Hey Chat Noir, I completely trust you with my life but also, I’m going to make the choice of who you can and can’t talk to about your personal business,” Alya said, watching Marinette’s nose wrinkle in irritation. “Tell me how that chat is going to go.”
“You know ignoring your advice is getting harder now that you know about me,” Marinette grumbled, crossing her arms.
“Ignore it if you want; just don’t be surprised if this pushes you apart,” Alya shrugged.
“It won’t, he’ll…” Marinette trailed off. “He wouldn’t stop being my partner over this, right?”
“And if he did?” Alya probed. “Just pick a new Chat Noir.”
“I don’t-” Marinette swallowed, shaking her head. “No...I don’t want another Chat Noir.”
“Then you’re going to have to keep this one,” Alya said, squeezing her shoulder. “That means being honest and fair with your partner; if not about your identity, then about his .”
Marinette nodded mutely, turning her gaze back to the movie as Alya stood up. “Want something from the kitchen?”
“I’m good,” Marinette said, fidgeting with her bracelet as she tried not to dread the conversation she knew she had to have.
To his credit, the storm of accusations she imagined would come out of Chat Noir’s mouth did not come; Ladybug might have felt better if they did.
Instead, her partner looked dazed, blinking and nodding as his gaze turned away from her. “...okay-”
“I swear this is not about you,” Ladybug said quickly, tugging on Chat Noir’s arm as he turned away from her. “And it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you! I swear I do.”
“No I...I understand,” Chat Noir said, the cheer in his voice becoming more and more forced. “Um...you know, I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight-”
“Chat...please look at me,” Ladybug said, tilting her partner’s face towards hers. Of course she had made him cry, but she tried to push down her guilt. This wasn’t about what she did; given the same choice, she would have picked Alya again, even if it meant hurting Chat Noir in the process.
“I know I don’t have a lot of opportunities to display how much I trust you,” Ladybug said, licking her lips. “So it probably feels like I just tossed aside a huge chance to show how much you mean to me...but this was about me doing what I needed-”
“You don’t need to...you’re the Guardian-”
“That doesn't make me your master !” Ladybug said emphatically, startling Chat Noir out of his daze. “That doesn’t mean I can control who you talk to and who you confide in! I still...I still think we’re too close and rely on each other too much to jeopardize our working relationship...but if there’s someone in your life you trust, I...I want you to have the same opportunity. To confide in someone you trust.”
“Not you though,” Chat Noir muttered.
“There has to be someone else,” Ladybug said almost desperately. “Tell me I’m not the only person in your life you can rely on…”
Alya had been such a positive force in her life since she had told her; she thought back to all the times they had stayed up late talking, all the times Alya had listened to her vent about akuma, all the nights she held her hand because she had watched Chat Noir die to save her yet again.
Was there no one Chat Noir could turn to when he was alone?
Chat Noir seemed to chew it over for a long moment, blinking back tears still as he tried to grapple with the fact his relationship with Ladybug had shifted out from underneath him yet again. “...do I have to tell you who it is?”
“I think it’s better if you don’t,” Ladybug said softly. “Sorry...if I knew who you trusted, I might be able to figure out who you are. This way...I’m not the only one keeping secrets-”
“I don’t want to keep secrets,” Chat Noir grumbled.
“I know,” Ladybug sighed. “And I promise, I swear, the minute Hawk Moth is gone, there will be no more secrets between us! This... mess of half-truths and half-lies will end and we can just be-”
The idea of being something to Chat Noir outside the mask was something not even Alya knew; a secret all her own that might never come to light.
“This is just for now,” Ladybug said firmly. “Not forever.”
Chat Noir nodded, once again resigned to a fate someone else had picked for him. “I get it...I do.”
“Are you mad at me?” Ladybug asked.
Chat Noir weighed the answer for a long moment. “...no,” Chat Noir said with a shrug. “Just...can we pick this up some other time? I wasn’t kidding about the homework.”
For the first time there was a real wall between her and Chat Noir and Ladybug was shocked by how much she detested it.
“I understand,” Ladybug said quietly. “But I meant what I said when I said you should find someone to turn to. I wish I could help you with everything, but-”
“For now...you can’t,” Chat Noir nodded, putting on a brave face. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Ladybug let Chat Noir slip out of her fingertips, momentarily reaching out to pull him back before thinking better of herself. She didn’t expect him to be sunshine and rainbows after telling him, but as firm as she was in her convictions, it still sucked to see him in pain.
Just deal with it yourself like he has to, Ladybug thought as she watched Chat Noir turn and dive off the roof of the building. Alya’s had enough on her plate...you don’t need to bother her with-
Her resolve lasted until she transformed, blinking back tears as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“Did I do the right thing?”
Alya said nothing, running her hands through Ladybug’s hair as she laid her head on her lap.
“Sometimes...doing the right thing hurts people as a result,” Alya said carefully. “It’s just a sucky part of life.”
“I hate it,” Ladybug sniffed, wiping her eyes with another tissue. “I think he thinks I love keeping secrets from him but...I really hate it. It makes me feel so alone...and I don’t want him to feel that way either.”
“And he can figure out how to feel less alone himself now,” Alya said soothingly. “This guy...I know he has at least one really great friend.”
“...maybe a little better,” Alya said fondly. “I know he’d move earth to put a smile on Chat Noir’s face, so maybe let this problem fall in his lap instead of yours. You don’t have to do everything to make everyone happy all the time.”
“I want to,” Ladybug muttered.
“ Everybody includes you ,” Alya said firmly. “Take care of yourself first ; let Chat Noir take care of himself now.”
“I worry about him though,” Ladybug said quietly.
Alya glanced down at her phone, seeing a message from Nino flash on her screen.
Nino: hey babe
Nino: can’t make it tonight
Nino: adrien sounds really upset and said he wanted to talk to me about something
“Don’t." Alya smiled as she laid the phone on the bed beside her. “He’s in good hands.”
Sweet Girl (A.L)
A/N: This is probably my favorite one-shot that I have written so far, and it’s for my main man Ari. I’ve been wanting to write a dbf!Ari forever now, and so it’s finally here. Please reblog if you enjoy it, it’s what motivates me to write more. Beta read by the lovely @beefybuckrrito and special mention to @navybrat817 for helping me settle on this choice for the plot! 💛
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: 18+, smut, penetrative sex, nicknames (sweet girl, sweetheart), some dirty talk, age gap (the reader is in her 20s, Ari is 40), dad’s best friend AU + neighbor AU
You excitedly walked up to your parent’s house, ringing the doorbell as you put your luggage down. You finally had a few days off from your busy schedule and decided to visit instead of staying back and spending time with your friends. It wasn’t the hardest decision to make but you were starting to regret it when no one opened the door.
You grabbed your phone, ringing your mother, then your father, and neither of them answered. So, you started looking under the mat, the plants, everywhere, trying to find a key.
“You have got to be kidding me!” You groaned, accidentally breaking a plant, knowing well it was one of your mother’s most treasured ones.
The neighbor's light turned on, and that’s when you noticed Ari Levinson emerge from his front door, very shirtless. You tried your best to look away, but you couldn’t, it was impossible. He was sculpted like a God and your mind wandered to the endless times you’d pleasured yourself thinking about this man.
He tilted his head as he watched you, folding his arms across his chest as a smirk plastered on his face, "Your mum and dad are on a romantic getaway. They won’t be back until tomorrow, sweetheart.”
You were too tired, so you just sat there on your porch, running your fingers through your already messy hair, “Would you happen to have spare keys to my house, Mr. Levinson?”
You and Ari hadn’t spent a lot of time together. He moved in after you went away to college, so you only saw him during the holidays or the occasional weekends you decided to come to visit your parents, much like this one. However, both of you thought of each other very often, unknowingly. You had an effect on him, and him on you. You had never come across anyone as attractive as him. You tried, but every time you went on a date with someone, you immediately wished it was Ari instead.
He finally moved away from his porch and walked towards you, helping you with your bags, “I don’t have a spare key but I do have a spare bedroom, you can crash here for the night, it’s no big deal.”
You stood up and wiped your muddy hands on your white shorts, immediately regretting it as you looked at him, “Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Ari was a ladies’ man and the whole neighbourhood was aware of it, however, people made it a lot more scandalous than it was. He enjoyed the occasional casual sex, especially on days that he needed to get his mind off his best friend’s daughter.
“It’s just me and a bottle of scotch, you won’t be interrupting anything.”
He barely waited for a response as he carried your bags into his house. He was a little protective of you, he wouldn’t want you spending the night at some motel, or worse, at your ex-boyfriend’s house who lived two doors down. He wanted you with him.
Ari knew it was wrong, having these feelings for you. It was mostly lust and he worried it would eventually cloud his judgement. He prepared himself for another night of stroking himself to the mental image of you bouncing on his cock while he played with your perfect tits.
You followed him into the house, a small smile playing on your lips. It smelt like him, mint, musk, expensive scotch, and a hint of vanilla. You couldn’t help but notice his back muscles, his broad shoulders, wondering how it would feel to dig your nails into them as he pounded mercilessly into you.
He led you to the guest room, opening the door for you as he waited for you to go inside first. Your hand accidentally brushed against his bulge as you passed him, your eyes widening a little as Ari held back a very obvious groan. He cleared his throat as you walked inside,
“I’ll get you some dinner ready, you get settled in, alright?”
“Yes, Mr. Levinson.”
“Please sweetheart, call me Ari.”
You changed into more comfortable clothes as you headed downstairs for dinner. You kept reminding yourself that he was only being nice because you’re his best friend’s daughter, nothing else. That’s all it was.
When you walked into the kitchen, you heard Ari groan as he moved his neck a little, clearly in some kind of pain.
“Is everything okay, Ari?”
He turned around to face you, giving you a little nod as he gestured to your dinner on the table, “Just my age catching up to me, sweetheart. I think I pulled something when I was working out today.”
You walked towards him, “How about you sit down and I can take a look at it? One of my roommates has these muscle issues all the time, so I’ve learned a trick or two.”
While you genuinely wanted to help the man, you couldn’t deny the fact that a part of you was eager to feel those muscles that you have only ever looked at. Ari’s mind wasn’t far from the gutter either, why would he ever turn down an opportunity like this?
“That’s very kind of you, but you really should eat your dinner first, you look really tired from traveling.” The only reason he was postponing it was to mentally prepare himself, he couldn’t risk getting his cock hard at your touch, it would be very embarrassing.
You shook your head as you pointed to the chair, “Nonsense, I’m absolutely fine. Please, just take a seat, will you?”
He couldn’t protest any longer, not when you were asking him that. He could simply melt at your kind and gentle tone. He made his way to the chair so his back was facing you. You moved behind him, very delicately placing your fingers on his shoulders.
You leaned in a little, your lips incredibly close to his ear, “I’m going to start slow, alright? Eventually, increase the pressure, see how you feel.”
All he could think about was how he wanted to be the one taking care of you, and not the other way around. He nodded a little, relaxing under your touch as your fingers gently massaged his shoulder,
Ari groaned a little when you increased the pressure, "God, that feels so fucking good." He couldn't help but turn around for a brief moment, "You're something else, you know that?"
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly your whole body felt hot as you continued rubbing his shoulders, realizing just how intimate this was, "I just want to help you. You've always been so kind."
"Because you've always been a good girl."
Ari and you both froze for a moment, a sentence with no sexual implication had a different meaning altogether for both of you. You loved being praised, it made you feel a certain way, and hearing it from Ari made it all the more better.
You moved your fingers to his lower back, "I always try to be good, don't want to get on your bad books."
Ari was worried he had scared you away but that certainly wasn't the case. He felt a twitch in his boxers as he placed his hand over it, hoping you didn't notice.
"And why wouldn't you want to get on my bad books, sweetheart? Although I must say, it is a wise decision." Ari felt a little bolder, he knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself, "Bad girls always get punished."
The pool of wetness between your legs only grew as you swallowed nervously, at this point, your hands were simply exploring his back muscles and he didn't mind, "What kind of punishment are we talking about here?"
He needed to look at you, he needed to see your face while he spoke. He turned around, his face was so close to your chest and he looked up at you, "Spanking usually works."
You playfully rolled your eyes, feeling more confident, "Spanking? That doesn't discipline me."
Ari placed a hand on your waist, gently rubbing his thumb over your exposed skin, "Oh really? What disciplines you, then?"
Both of you were crossing a line and neither of you cared. You had wanted this for so long, after imagining a million scenarios with him, this was finally happening,
You shrug a little, moving closer so your breasts are almost in his face, "I don't know, I preferred being tied up, you know? Make me cum over and over again until I'm a dumb mess, unable to form a sentence. That'll teach me."
A low growl erupted from Ari’s throat as he gripped your waist a little tighter, immediately pulling you to his lap. You squeal a little, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"You're playing with fire here, sweetheart."
You lean in a little, your nose brushing against his, "I know what I'm doing, Ari." You gently rub the back of his neck, feeling his growing bulge under you.
Ari closed the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours. He bucked his hips a little bit, his bulge pressing to your core as he pulled you closer.
A small moan escapes your lips as you move your legs, straddling his lap properly as you run your fingers through hair, rolling your hips a little, "Can we please go upstairs?" You mumble against his lips, desperate for more.
Ari nods quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist securely as he stands up, walking both of you upstairs with ease, "Taking you to my room, because fuck, I've imagined fucking you into my mattress far too many times."
You smile against his lips as you kiss him again, "Anywhere, Ari. I just need you, I don't care where."
You both enter his bedroom and he gently puts you down on the bed. As much as Ari loved rough sex, he wanted to take good care of you, he couldn't help how he felt about you.
He put a pillow under your head before climbing onto the bed, kneeling between your legs as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts. He looked at you for consent, and as soon as you nodded, he pulled it down in one swift motion.
"No panties? You are my best girl, huh?" He smirked, spreading your legs as he stared at your glistening cunt, unable to take his eyes off, "Even prettier than I imagined, sweet girl."
You pant softly, realizing just how real this was. You moved your hips a little, desperate for his touch, "Please, Ari."
"Tell me how you want me to start, my fingers? My mouth?" He leans in, hovering over above you as he presses his bulge into your core, "Or do you think you're ready to begin with my cock?"
A whimper left your lips and you nodded quickly, "Want your cock, please - please just something." You were desperate and you weren't ashamed to show it. You had wanted this for way too long.
Ari smirked a little and pulled his boxers down, his cock slapping against your pussy sending a shiver down your spine as you gasp, "Are you on the pill, sweetheart?"
You nodded quickly and Ari sighed in relief. He moved his hand to his cock, gently rubbing it on your folds, your whines and whimpers encourage him to slide his tip inside, groaning at the tightness.
You feel the stretch, you knew he was big but you didn't realize just how big he would feel in you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling and you threw your head back, "Please don't stop, I can take it."
Ari pushed his entire length in until he bottomed out, his face now buried in your neck as he whispered in you ear, "I've got you, you're doing so well. Taking me so well, such a good girl."
The praise was enough to calm you down a little as you felt yourself getting wetter around his cock. You opened your eyes, running your fingers through his hair as you nodded a little, encouraging him to move.
It was slow at first, sensual, he was taking his time with you. He didn't want to hurt you, but the way you were squeezing his cock made him feral. He increased his pace, slamming into you a little faster.
The only sounds in the room were your moans, his grunts, and his skin slapping against yours. Few words were spoken, only gentle praises near the shell of the ear, and it didn't take long for both of you to reach the edge, your hands fisting the sheets as sweat dripped from his forehead.
With one final grunt, Ari releases his cum into your sweet cunt, and that's more than enough to push your orgasm over the edge as you cum all around his cock.
Soft pants. Your nails digging in his back. Kisses on your forehead. He finally pulled out, lying down next to you as he took you in his arms. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, feeling safe and content.
You wake up the next morning when you hear familiar voices downstairs. Immediately recognize your parent's voice. You're still a little sore, but you put your clothes back on as you head downstairs and Ari's eyes meet yours immediately,
"Look who's back! I invited them for breakfast when I told them you spent the night here."
Your dad pats Ari on the back, "Thank you for looking after her." He turns to face you, "Did you hear the good news?"
You look a little confused and shake your head, "What is the good news?"
"Ari's starting a new job at your University. He's the head of the business department, and he's moving there next week!"
Defending S/O From Jealous Girls (Kuroo, Kageyama, and Tsukishima )
warning(s):bullying!!!(tw) , boys who bite at anything that touches you<3
“Oops! My bad, Y/N- you should really watch where you’re going.”
You rub your shoulder with a frown as the long-haired girl in front of you feigns innocence, eyes glinting with a venemous edge before you huff, leaning down to pick up your phone. A hand beats you to it, snatching the device in a way that had you flinching before a hand settles warmly atop your head.
“Kitten, you good?”
You sigh, seeing that the girl who had an obvious crush on your boyfriend had stepped to the side, lock of hair already twirled around her finger while her lips curled up in a flirtatious smile. Kuroo kept his feral eyes on you with a questioning look in his eyes as you offer a strained grin, taking the phone from him before glancing at the perpetrator.
“Rika, did you need something?”
“Kuroo-senpai, can I ask for your help on this upcoming assignment?”
She blatantly ignores you, but Kuroo kept his gaze focused on your now shattered expression, seeing you hadn’t answered his original question. Distractedly, he merely shrugs at Rika before slipping his hand warmly into yours, tugging you along gently down the hall.
The pissed-off expression of Rika’s still went unnoticed as you smile gratefully, following him along as Kuroo slips your conjoined hands into his jacket pocket. Feral eyes glance at your tired expression as Kuroo stops in the middle of the now empty hall, causing you to blink out of your thoughts.
“Tetsurou, we need to get to class-”
“Whatever you’re thinking about, quit it.”
You tilt your head as if you don’t know what he’s talking about, plastic smile already tugging at the edge of your lips.
Kuroo’s motions are careful as his large hands rest on either side of your neck, thumbs gently tracing the contour of your cheeks as his sharp eyes seem to pin you in place. His chest sinks when the smile on your face slowly fades, your eyes brimming with unshed heat before he sighs.
“I’m not dumb, sweetheart. So you either give me names and how long they’ve been giving you shit- or I interrogate any female I’ve ever seen you with. Your choice.”
“...Rika’s really pretty, no?” Your voice cracks, smiling sadly as insecurity brims your tone, Kuroo’s grip on you seeming to weaken at your words. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just not-”
“I will take you right here, in the middle of this hall.”
“Tetsurou-!” You scold, a smirk crossing Kuroo’s lazy features before he tugs you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck seemingly deep in thought as the raven-haired boy strokes your hair. He mumbles, other hand wrapped around your body protectively as his lips move against the top of your head.
“If it makes you realize how beautiful you actually are, kitten, I don’t object-”
“I can’t stand you sometimes.”
Kuroo grins at the feel of your laughter against his neck, lifting your chin upwards to encase your lips with his heatedly as your figners clench at the back of his shirt material-
sharp eyes flitting in the direction of a teary-eyed Rika.
She runs off from her hiding place when he makes threatening eye contact with her in the midst of kissing you harder, hand on the back of your hair entwining with the strands for effect. One was off the list now, for sure.
“Names, sweetheart.” He pulls back gently, kissing your slightly swollen eyelid as his thumb strokes your cheek lovingly.
“I want them by the end of the day.”
“Oi. Snap out of it.”
Your dazed expression becomes alert at the feel of Kageyama touching a cold can against your cheek, the blue-eyed boy arching his brow in worry.
“Sorry, um...” You seem frazzled, looking over your shoulder now and then as Kageyama casts you a second worried glance as he occupies the space next to you on the school bench. He pokes the straw into his milk, casually tossing an arm around you afterward-
certainly not expecting to hear a yelp.
He flinches, retracting his arm back in a jerking motion. “What?! What’s wrong?”
“My shoulder...” You clench your teeth. “It’s really sore.”
“Did you bump it against something?” Kageyama sweat dropped, reaching a hand up to rest on the back of his neck worriedly. The awkward tension in his movements made you laugh, but it came out a little forced.
“Nope. I’m going to get some relieving patches from the nurse’s office, don’t wait up!” You seemed skittish, the pained look in your eye not going unnoticed by your analytical boyfriend. His calls for you died on the blue-eyed boy’s lips, sighing when you’re so rushed you leave your phone behind.
He picks it up, about to slip it into his bag to give it to you later, until your phone lights up with a text message-
multiple text messages.
Kageyama’s blue eyes scan them before he can think. He hadn’t meant to read your messages, but he’s suddenly glad he stumbled upon them. The word bitch was prominently used, attacking you for dating the popular setter. Kageyama could feel heat rush to his head, jaw clenching at what he was reading.
If yesterday’s lesson didn’t teach you enough, it won’t just be your shoulder next time.
He lifted himself out of his seat, milk box crushed within his fist. Blue orbs barely scanned the name of the sender, thanking his good memory for remembering such a useless girl. She was in your class, and he briefly remember you awkwardly bringing her up.
“Tobio, I told you not to wait-”
Your eyes widen when Kageyama tugs on your good arm, the aura around him borderline dangerous. Worriedly, your questions of where he was bringing you failed to drown out the ringing in your boyfriend’s ears.
“You don’t like holding hands in front of people-” You start, cheeks heating up when you reach the front of your classroom.
“Y/N. You know you can trust me, right?” He’s still not looking at you, staring stoically at the shut classroom door.
Subconsciously, you touch your shoulder as guilt brims your orbs. “I didn’t want to make it difficult for you-”
“Well, that’s fine.” You tilt your head as Kageyama slams the door open, glancing back at you with anger swimming in his blue orbs.
“Because this shouldn’t be difficult.”
You held back a sigh. Kageyama was the type to deal with these types of things head on, for the raven-haired boy never really cared much about what people thought of him. You embarrassedly trudge behind him as he walks in with ease, stopping in front of a certain someone’s desk that had your breath catching in your throat. Everything begins to make sense when Kageyama slips your phone out of his pocket.
“You have a crush on me or something?” He bluntly asks, disinterest flitting around his blue eyes as you watch your bully’s jaw slacken, cheeks filling with embarrassment. “Is that why you’ve been harassing my girlfriend?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kageyama-Kun!”
You shouldn’t have felt as justified as you did as Kageyama lets your phone fall on her desk, the messages staring back up at her as Aika’s eyes brim with unshed tears.
“Expect an assault charge reported to the school tomorrow. Good job digging your own grave.” Kageyama’s cold voice sent a collective shiver down everyone’s spine before he promptly tugs you out of the classroom. You barely caught a glance at Aika’s trembling form before Kageyama’s leaning you against the now empty hallway.
Lunchtime was over now, that was for sure.
“Tobio, you didn’t-”
“Let me adjust your patch. You didn’t put it on right.” He ignores you, still sorting out his emotions before he’s gently tugging your shirt off your shoulder slightly, peeling the patch off of your skin to reposition it.
“Are you mad?” Your voice was quiet as he solely focused on the task at hand.
“Yeah.” You flinch, feeling guilty at his blunt tone-
until his forehead touches your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin.
“You know I’ll protect you no matter what, right?”
Kageyama’s chest finally settled, feeling tears of relief beginning to soak his shoulder as you smiled into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.
“Yeah.” You breathily laugh, Kageyama’s grip tightening slightly-
And he dug his face deeper into your shoulder, hiding a small lilt of his lips he didn’t want you to see.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss it.”
You beam in the face of your unamused boyfriend, the blonde sighing heavily as the squeak of sneakers fade out into the background. What mattered was that you came.
“Any particular reason?” Tsukishima absent-mindedly twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, tilting his head in a bored fashion as you seem to stiffen in place.
“Who knew my girlfriend was such a terrible liar.” Tsukishima pried further, arching a brow as you chew your bottom lip, looking everywhere but him. “Seriously, what’s going through that pretty little head?”
“You think I’m pretty?” You seem to perk up at that, and Tsukishima flicks your temple as he begins to walk off to warm up.
“Shut up.” He glances back at you, gaze softer than his usual hard stare.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
Tsukishima’s irritation begins to show on his face before you giggle, feeling more relaxed than before as you motion that you’re going to find your seat. You mouth a good luck to him, pretending not to notice the redness on the tips of the blonde’s ears as he spins on his heel hastily. So cute.
Your smile fades when a smile that was just a bit too wide waves you to come sit with them. You wondered if you had a choice as your footsteps slow in their movement.
“Looks like you can see after all. I underestimated you.”
“Wha- You’re the one with the glasses!”
Tsukishima smirks at how easy it was to rile Hinata up, hazel eyes flitting over to the stands. He would never admit it, but knowing you were in the bleachers somewhere-
Scratch that. He knew exactly where you were on the bleachers.
Ice-cold, dripping with water. A water bottle being held upside down in a girl’s grasp, a girl who was vaguely familiar.
“Tsukishima, we’re about to play-!”
“Then put someone else in.” The tall blonde’s voice was hardened as he brushed past his team captain, fire on his heels at what he had witnessed.
The heat in your eyes contrasted greatly with the ice cold water dripping down your back. Yuki giggled brightly with her friend stifling a laugh into her palm, a feigned pout on her lips as everyone in the stands stared at your trembling form.
“Y/N-chan! You’re so clumsy!” Yuki squealed, bending down to pretend to wipe up some of the water on your lap with her scarf. Her voice drops to a mutter. “And forgetful. Didn’t I tell you not to come to Tsukishima-Kun’s game today?”
Your eyes widen a fraction, trembling lips beginning to part before a warmth suddenly cascades your cold body.
“And pray tell, why should she listen to your advice?”
Tsukishima’s voice sounded kind, but his eyes were anything but, protectively tugging you out of your soaking seat. You feel the rise of his chest, eyes widening when you realize he ran to get here.
Yuki’s lips trembled before a sweet smile overtakes her features. You could’ve laughed as she begins to sniffle.
“Kei-Kun! Y/N-chan had a little bit of a spill, and I was just-”
“Helping her?” He finishes for her, smile growing a little sadistic. He focuses his attention on you, clenching his teeth at the smile you offer him. A trembling one that said I’m okay.
“Funny. Because I saw the whole thing.”
“I-It’s a misunderstanding-”
“Oi.” Tsukishima’s fake smile drops, jaw clenched. You tug on his arm, not wanting to cause a scene, but he merely slips it out of your grasp, pushing you behind him. His glasses seem to shine a little as his lips quirk up yet again.
“Ugly girls shouldn’t lie, it leaves them with nothing worth doting for, you know? Hm?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling a closed eye smile. “And who gave you permission to call me by my first name? It’s Tsukishima. With an honorific.”
You wince at the harsh insult that slaps Yuki across the face, flabbergasted expression still evident on your face as he takes you by the shoulders, spinning you around with a now pissed-off expression.
“Yuri.” He looks back, getting her name wrong on purpose. “Don’t let me catch you helping my girlfriend again, got it?”
She hiccups over her tears as the guy she likes walks off with you, who was still trying to grasp at what had just happened as he leads you to the hallway.
“Y-You’re match is on right now-”
“You’re a regular! You need to be-”
“Shut up. I know exactly where I need to be right now.” Tsukishima snips, drying off the rest of the water as he kneels in front of you, a cup of hot tea from the vending machine warming your hands. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m sorry.” It comes out rushed and distracted, but Tsukishima’s momentary pause of his movements made you think it was anything but. “They bothered you because of me, right?”
You nod slightly, biting the inside of your cheek before he flicks your temple, suddenly irritated.
“What a pain.”
You gasp softly, hands tightening around your paper cup as he brushes his lips across your forehead, hand resting on your neck.
“Tell me when things happen.”
“Don’t bottle it up inside. It’s annoying.”
“And stop smiling like an idiot.”
“But you kissed me. You kissed me first.”
“I’ll leave you here.”
“No you won’t.”
Tsukishima groaned, tilting his head back to sigh heavily as his heart pounds in his ears. Quickly, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips that has your eyes as wide as saucers, tugging you out of your seated position while refusing to look back at you.
“You’re right,” You stare at his flushed neck, following closely behind him back to the tournament.
His hand tightens in yours ever so slightly-
“I’m never leaving you alone like that again. Understand? Or do I have to spell it out for you?”
General works: @takemetovalhalla @faesbae @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @holaaaf @babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle @kuuuuroo @theonep1ece @that-chick212 @mjoork
sweet lies (m.)
His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.
cw. oral (f receiving), fingering, slight body worship, public sex, multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praising, titty sucking, nsfw, toxic megumi, fwb, slight angst, the traditional unedited fic
note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 and thank you to besties nie and ellie for editing this STOP SHOWING YOUR ANKLES CHIRREN
series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03
Megumi slides your shirt down your shoulder to press kisses on the bare skin. Your head tilted to the side to give him easier access. You hate that you feel so weak around him, your hands gripping his thigh you’re currently straddling, already so breathless from his teasing ministrations.
“You should move back closer to campus,” he mutters at the juncture of your neck, pulling another soft gasp from you the moment his fingers dip inside your damp underwear. You feel him smile at your skin, using his deft fingers to push two of them inside your sopping hole. He pumps them in slowly, teasingly slow, coaxing your arousal to coat his fingers while you grind against his palm, eyes shut tight from the pulling knot in your stomach.
“It’s hard to fuck you when you’re a half-hour drive away.”
You scoff against him and roll your eyes. “I wonder why I got kicked out from the dorms in the first place.” Exactly two weeks ago, Megumi snuck in drunk and horny into your dorms, shaking you awake to get rid of his boner.
It was a sloppy quickie, mostly because he’s eaten brownies and got fuck drunk before stumbling beside your bed. The insensitive idiot left his rum bottle under your bed just as he wobbles back to his frat house, and as if things couldn’t get worse, there was a surprise dorm inspection the next day. Not only did they find cum stains all over your sheets, but your bed also reeked of weed and alcohol, resulting in a quick expulsion from the dorms.
If it weren’t for the help of one of your professors, Gojo-sensei, you wouldn’t have been able to find a decent, cheap apartment. It came with the price of rooming with one of his old acquaintances, a muscular, heavily tattooed guy who seemed to be a few years older than you.
He really wasn’t a bad roommate. Other than the fact he seemed really intimidating, the dude mostly kept to himself, either locked in his room or away for work that you don’t really get to see him that much. His place was decent too, your room bigger than the last, so it was a good deal, but as Megumi said, it’s really hard to fuck around when you’re so far away.
“Not my fault, you’re so weak for me, baby,” he taunts as you tighten around him, his pace increasing with his lips sucking love marks on your skin. You can’t help but snicker at his actions; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was jealous.
But this was Megumi you were talking about – everyone knew he never got jealous.
“I don’t like you here.”
“Aw, sucks for you.”
“I’m serious,” he grips your waist tighter, drawing a drawled-out moan from you. Megumi rubs your clit with his thumb and swallows your moans through open-mouthed kisses, your fists balled into his hoodie. Fuck this, you’re completely aware he’ll never like you the way you like him, but it’s so hard to feel sad about that when he’s knuckle deep inside you and playing you like a violin. As much as you hated him and his pretty face, you have to admit his fingers were fucking magical.
Megumi nips at your lower lip before thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a numbing pace, not taking long until you’re creaming all over his hands. You pant at the orgasm, head falling back into his shoulder.
He brushes your hair away from your eyes and kisses the side of your head, the gesture way too sweet for someone who insisted on a ‘no-strings attached’ sexual relationship. But you don’t complain – this is like a dream come true for you – allowing him to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw instead, his wet hands squeezing your thighs in a possessive grip.
“You should just live with me. I’m not comfortable with the fact you live with a man.”
There’s a trace of jealousy behind his voice that you’d normally swoon at, but he’s pushing you to the edge and fucking around with your feelings so much that you can’t even enjoy the rare moment. You push yourself off him and reach for your discarded shorts on the floor, sliding the material over your legs while Megumi shamelessly stares at your ass behind you, his head resting on his hands.
“Megs, I barely even talk to the guy; he’s always away at work. You’ve really got nothing to worry about,” you tell him, making quick work of tidying your school packets just to ignore his heated gaze. “Besides, you and I aren’t even dating. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“You never hold back with your words, huh?”
You shot him a look, an angry glare that should be threatening, but the glint in his eyes just tells you he’s enjoying every second of it. “You like it.”
“Hmm, maybe I do,” Megumi tugs you back to the bed, effortlessly, as he flips you under him. In this position, he’s situated right between your bodies, hands clasped against one another. He’s absolutely stunning, bathed in the sliver of the moonlight, in your bed, no less. You’re a flurry of emotions – stuck between wanting to fuck him and kissing him, and then scream at him to let him know he should stop playing with your heart.
Megumi’s eyes darken as he traces over your silhouette, watching the way your chest falls heavily at his touches. He uses one hand to trace the tip of his finger from your breast down to your clothed core, a smirk painting his lips when you buck your hips up at the contact.
Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.
“Just promise me you’re not letting others see your pretty pussy okay?” he tugs your shorts to the side, tongue darting out to lick at his lips at the sight of your glistening folds. You’ve lost count of the times he’s made you cum tonight with just his fingers; the raging hard-on hidden behind his sweatpants is proof that he’s quite different today by letting you get fuck-drunk on him first. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping you so helplessly wrapped around his finger, fucking you good enough that no one else comes second to him, and he knows this. He sees this from the desire pooled in your eyes.
Megumi scoots down lower to stare at your pussy, which is already embarrassing since you’re so wet down there. He simply sighs at your bare cunt before him, using two fingers to pull the lips apart, followed by a groan at the apparent slick. “This is all mine.”
In your lust-filled haze, you scrunch your eyebrows and sneer, “How about you mind your own business?”
“The fuck did you just say?” he chuckled, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. “You’re mine, babe. Haven’t I fucked you enough to drill in that in your pretty little head?” Megumi doesn’t waste his time diving straight to your eager, awaiting core. Your hands fly down to tug at his hair as you grind your hips to his face, legs weak from his lips wrapped tightly around your clit. “You know I’ll get mad if you touch anyone else.”
“Fuck off, Megumi,” you spat out, “We’ve been fooling around for a year, and you still refuse to date me every time I ask you out officially. Listen, I understand you’re not ready for that kind of relationship, so you could at least respect that you don’t get the exclusivity of keeping me all to yourself.” Truly, this rebellion is so uncalled for and unexpected. The moment you had your eyes on him and made it your life’s mission to win him over, not once had you complained that he never wanted to take things a step further. But it’s been too long, too fucking long, and too many no baby’s already – your pride was beyond crushed. It was about time you set the boundaries this time, and you quiver around his skillful tongue, strong and firm as you rasp, “I’ll fuck whoever I want.”
“You love me,” Megumi pulls away from your clit with an audible pop, his face glistening from the smeared juices all over his cheeks. However, his eyes are narrowed, almost as if he’s scrutinizing you. You can’t focus on the fact he denied you of your orgasm because he’s looking at you so seriously, only to tilt his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s written all over your face.”
“Maybe I do, but are you deserving of it?” you push his head away and ignore the aching in your chest. Megumi shuffles close to you, pulling you in for another cuddling session before you hide under the sheets, making it clear you were not to be touched anymore. “Go home, Megs. I’m tired.”
In all honesty, you want him to stay. You want him to fight harder to win your approval back. He’s not a big cuddler, more of the type to pass out beside you after he’s gotten his own orgasm, but you’ve been so sure that maybe he might be different today. Under the sheets, your lip trembles in anticipation, eyes blinking wide at the dark silhouette outside your metaphorical shield. But as Megumi playfully slaps your ass, his warmth leaving the bed, you’re not really surprised.
He never stayed the night before – why would he do that now?
Silly girl, you chastised yourself.
“Fine. But I’ll be back tomorrow,” you hear him scuffle for his shoes outside, a smile evident in his voice as his words float around the silence of your apartment. “Wear my favourite set like a good girl for me?”
Megumi’s laughter echoes all the way to where you curl yourself into a ball. You hate that his laughter alone makes your heart skip a beat, even if it doesn’t carry any affection behind then. “See you then, baby,” is all he says before the door slams shut, leaving you alone to your thoughts and insecurities all over again.
His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.
You’ve really hit rock bottom; that’s the only explanation for your actions. Megumi was coming over in a few hours, unsurprising that he chooses 3 AM of all times. Not only did it mean his frat brothers would be asleep, but it also meant that his other side bitches would assume he’s doing the same. You know, of course, you fucking know you’re not the only one, but it didn’t hurt any less.
The pain just keeps getting worse every time you think of him, said thoughts always comprised with your shirt trapped between your teeth and your hands down your pants. There’s no denying you’re addicted to him, though being addicted to a never-ending heartbreak was a different story.
A story which you’re not ready to find out yet, so you dress up in your sexiest dress and take the nearest cab, heading to a place where you definitely shouldn’t be.
Two more hours before Megumi arrives. Two more hours before you fall into that endless cycle of fucking and him leaving you alone, promising he’ll be back tomorrow, before it all repeats and traces back to square one. He’s not going to stop, and neither are you, so where was any of this supposed to go now? He doesn’t want you, not in that way, that very much is clear – so why was it so hard to let go of him?
Deep down at the back of your mind, you know your answer. It’s because, like the lovesick fool you are, you’re still hoping that maybe someday he’ll look at you the way you look at him.
Fuck it, is all you think of as you flash the bouncer your ID, not missing the way his eyes fall down your tits that are so close to popping out of your dress a minute longer than welcomed. Snatching your card away from him, you push against the crowd, immediately regretting coming here as the loud thumping of music and stench of sex and alcohol washes over your senses.
You make a beeline for the empty bar, save for the bartender who had his back turned to you as he wipes the glasses over.
You clear your throat to make your presence known. The first thing you see is a broad back, thick lines of dark tattoos outlined even in his white button-up shirt. He places the glasses down and moves expertly before you, sliding shot glasses next to others before procuring a drink out of nowhere, a greeting about to leave his lips when you both make eye contact.
The drink stays still on his hands, blinking for a moment at your equally stupefied face before he says, “It’s you.”
“S-Sukuna,” you greet back, smiling at your roommate. You’ve barely seen the guy the past few weeks other than sleepy good morning’s, and I’ll take the trash out tonight before both of you disappeared into your own worlds.
Sukuna is...well, you don’t know, exactly. It’s not like he’s around much for you to make a proper judgment of, but he’s a pretty nice roommate, filling up the fridge whenever you guys run out of beer. There were times he nods at you as a greeting before leaving for work, too, leaving you alone at the house from midnight all the way to the morning. Other than thinking your roommate is pretty unique from his face tattoos and roguish handsomeness that contrasts his rather frequent sleepy mumbles, you’ve failed to realize he could actually be like a normal human. Seeing him stand before you, his forearms lined with veins and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, taut waist emphasized by a black vest, you swallow audibly.
He’s entirely different from the guy you often see passed out on the couch, but it’s a welcomed sight, nonetheless.
Sukuna’s actually...pretty hot.
Hiding the thumping of your heart – whether out of nervousness or it’s just trying to match the beat of the music – you beam up at him, eyes glossed over with curiosity as he reciprocates with a more mischievous grin.
If he’s easily read your mind that you are indeed attracted to him, he makes no comment about it, focusing on hearing your voice over the music instead.
He leans over to you, not pulling away even as your lips faintly graze his ear. Fuck, he’s got piercings too. You greedily drink in his masculine scent, thankful that the music thumping is so loud he won’t hear the frenzy mess inside your ribcage.
“I didn’t know you worked here. Heck, I didn’t know you were a bartender, but I guess the irregular sleep patterns make sense somehow.”
“What did you think I was, sweetheart?”
His deep voice reverberates all the way down to your toes, his throaty chuckle hoarse. “I-I don’t know,” you pull away nervously, blinking up at him way too innocently. “A gangster, to be honest,” you blurted out. Sukuna tilts his head to the side, and you immediately raise your hands beside your head as you mull over how offensive your words might’ve been. “I don’t mean anything offensive by it, I swear! It was just my first impression!”
“First impressions are usually false. Anyway. It’s fine,” he shrugs, resuming his task of wiping over the glasses.
His hands were so big, his fingers long and slender...your attention is drawn to the adept manner of how he wipes the cloth using the tip of his finger, reaching behind him to get another glass, all without keeping his eyes off of yours. It leaves much room to muse about what else he could do with those hands, and you squirm at your seat, opting to look at his face instead since that would be more polite than eye-fucking his hands.
Sukuna smirks, that cunning twinkle in his eyes matching the dim lights of the bar. Somehow, you suddenly feel so lightheaded.
“If it makes you feel better, I thought you were a shy girl at first, but your boy toy brings a different side of you every time he comes around.”
You squeak in embarrassment, “You’re home by then?!”
“Only sometimes,” he reassures with a laugh. “But I’ve heard enough,” Right. He’s older and definitely more experienced than your sexual escapades with Megumi – this must be nothing new to him by now, and yet, your skin flushes heated. “Don’t look too flustered, sweetheart. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of that,” he nods at you, “You don’t look very happy with him, though.”
“Tch, now you’re assessing my relationship status?”
“I don’t have to,” he shrugs, the gesture so damn reassured. Chuckling at your apparent frown, Sukuna shakes his head to himself. “It’s written all over your face you’re not satisfied with something. You wouldn’t be here if you were feeling good in the first place.”
“How much have you heard?”
“Oh, I don’t care about how you scream his name. That’s none of my business,” he grumbles under his breath rather bitterly – but that could just be the music messing with you. Sukuna holds your gaze as he sets the final glass down before you, his elbows languidly resting on the counter that separates you both. You’re left staring at him in wonder, watching the way he pours the drink right in front of you, the movement of his lips so intoxicating and even erotic you nearly didn’t hear him say, “But as your roommate, I wish you’d stop inviting him around and just kick him out already. He doesn’t like you, you know.”
He doesn’t like you. Megumi doesn’t like you – you know that already.
Glare deepening at your surprisingly nosy roommate, you take the glass from him and down it in one go. Sukuna’s brows shot up in awe, arms crossed against his puffed-out chest as you slam the glass down.
You were fuming.
“You don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”
“That’s right, I don’t,” he answers without skipping a beat, “But we men, we understand each other,” You open your mouth to retort, silenced by Sukuna’s finger pressing against your lips. You freeze at the contact, and Sukuna makes use of your state, continuing right where he left from.
“Listen, take it from me as free advice. I’ll even put your drink on the house.”
Really, nothing is stopping you from biting off this guy’s finger, but he looks like he knows something you don’t that you just choose to keep your mouth shut.
Satisfied at your decision, Sukuna smiles sweetly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture puts you under his spell, and he lingers there a little longer, massaging the lobes of your ears before he pulls back just as fast, almost as if he never touched you in the first place.
You fight back the urge to huff.
Why were men so complicated? One moment, they were hot, then cold the next. You would just never get it.
“That guy you’ve been mooning over for who knows how long? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re just someone who warms his cock every now and then, but I guarantee he’s thinking about someone else in his head when he’s with you,” he announces straightforwardly, not giving you the time to recover before he shrugs like his words didn’t just slap you in the face. “Just call quits on him, sweetheart. There’s really no need to waste such a pretty face. Ever heard of the saying – there’s plenty of fish in the sea?” he pushes another drink to you, “Drink up and loosen a little. With a face and body like that, you’ll find someone better soon.”
“I highly doubt I can find someone better when all everyone sees is my appearance.”
“I don’t,” he hinted with dark eyes, “But I assure you it might be what people see first. You do have a face of an angel; men are into that shit.”
Taking the drink from him with a loud sigh, you feel yourself weaken. You bury your head in your hands, replaying all the memories you’ve had with Megumi. It’s foreseeable that almost all of them consisted of you two fucking, nothing but a faint memory of two where Megumi actually cared enough to perform aftercare. The thought makes you wince; he really is an ass, but you’re also so hopelessly infatuated with him that you refuse to acknowledge the truth.
“Megs and I...we’re just complicated, okay?”
“I swear!” your defenses are hopelessSukuna’s knowing smirk, the man holding back a snigger from your silent rage. “Besides, maybe his disinterested nature is what made me attracted to him in the first place. I like the mystery. It’s not bad for a girl to enjoy searching for answers every now and then.”
“Except he’s already given you a concrete no, and you’re the only one still hanging onto him,” he reminds you. At your dropped jaw, Sukuna has the audacity to wink. That motherfucker –“Pressed a button, kitten?” he pats your head, leaving you to be even more riled up. “Don’t be sad. It’s not like he’s the only guy who can make you feel good.” As if a light bulb went up in his head, Sukuna hid his smile by turning his back to you, pretending to be engrossed in the drinks all laid out in front of him. But even with his face obscured from your view, his words rang thick and clear: “In fact, I bet you your cute ass someone else can change your former perspective on what pleasure really is.”
“Yeah, like who?” you snorted sarcastically, “You?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he faces you, absolutely shameless as he eyes your cleavage. Sukuna clenches his jaw at the tempting view before him, sliding his gaze back to yours to look for the answers in your face. “If you want a demonstration, that is.”
Sukuna hasn’t really touched you or even spoke explicitly, but you’re breathing hard anyways, subconsciously clawing the countertop.
You don’t know if it’s your voice or his that’s ringing your ears, the words what’s holding you back? the last thing you hear before grabbing him by the collar, leaning over the counter to taste his lips. Sukuna smiles at the kiss, his large hands cupping your face in them. His thumb traces circles over your jaw as you greedily suck on his lip, uncaring that you’re making out with your roommate in a public place.
As if remembering that he’s still at work, Sukuna pulls away for a moment, diving in for one last peck that has you giggling adorably. Sukuna’s grin grows wider at your flushed cheeks, snapping his fingers at someone from a distance. “Geto, break!”
The guy who must be Geto popped his head out of the backroom, frowning at Sukuna’s words when his gaze lands on you and the not-so-subtle needy grip you have on Sukuna’s collar. His mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape before he gives a thumb up, disappearing afterward.
That’s all Sukuna needs before he’s leaving the counter, breathing in your panicked squeals as he picks you up, your legs flailing to wrap around his.
You’re giggling and laughing all the way to the back of the club, your hands tugging at his undercut and his own squeezing at your ass. Sukuna kicks the door of the restroom open, which is thankfully clean (you made the right choice choosing a luxurious club), settles you down before him, and locking the stall.
His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands tugging off your dress and scowling at it as if it’s offensive. “Calm down,” you tease him, “They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“They were a fucking tease the whole night,” he glares at the lacy cups of your bra, his breathing laboured as he cups them. You throw your head back until it thumps at the door, teeth muffling the moans that threaten to erupt. Sukuna unclasps the material in one swift movement, surprising with just how many times he’s done this before. “Fucking gorgeous tits – why the fuck does your boy toy not want to keep you to himself?”
“He’s – oh fuck,” you scrape Sukuna’s scalp, his tongue wrapping around the swollen bud. He caresses the other one not to leave it unattended, and he’s grinding you against the door so hard, his dick poking at your dress leaving very little to the imagination.
Sukuna chuckles at your broken response, rutting his hips in such a sensual manner you didn’t think he was capable of. “You were saying?”
You glare at him from under your chin, but he can’t take you seriously while he’s sucking at your tit like a child. This man is brave enough to nip it with his teeth, the sting making you hiss and buck against him. “He’s possessive,” you breathe through your mouth, a little in disbelief you’re casually thinking about him while Sukuna gets down on his knees. “He wants me to be exclusive with him, but he’s free to fuck who he pleases.”
Sukuna rubs both palms in front of his face as if preparing to devour a meal, which he’ll do so soon enough. He pushes your dress and bunches it at your waist, tugging your underwear to the side before he groans. The sound is so deep and masculine, so utterly frustrated for some reason you can’t understand.
“Now that’s unfair,” he mumbles absentmindedly, peppering your pelvis with kisses. The feverish touch of his warm lips on your already burning skin has you clutching at the door, feeling your legs weaken.
His eagerness and distrait acts of body worship drive you crazy. Megumi is good at making you feel desired and fuckable – that much you know from his habits of pushing his pants down at pretty much anywhere as long as you were around, claiming you’re a walking ‘boner trigger.’ Sukuna, on the other hand, was a lot more patient and attentive to his movements, taking the time to make you feel you were more than just a body and a hole. It’s odd, hella fucking odd, because this man is older than you and a friend of your professors, but did you care? No. Did you want him to fuck your brains out in a public restroom? Fuck yes.
A wanton moan paints the wall as Sukuna slides your thong off just above your knee, his eyes closed as he buries his cheek in it. You look down with wide eyes, hands grabbing at nothing and everything at the same time. From the looks of it, he’s sniffing your sex, the sight so outright erotic that you only moan louder.
How was it possible to be this much turned on?
By the time he’s opened his eyes, his entire demeanour’s shifted. Gone was the enthusiastic and sly bartender, now replaced with a much more animalistic entity residing beside it.
Before you could make yourself comfortable, Sukuna hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of your heel grazed against the tight walls of the stall. He licks a flat stripe from your hole that clenches around nothing, moving upwards in such a passionate, languid manner he’s making you forget you’re literally in a fucking restroom. Your breasts heave up and down from how you’re struggling to breathe, his tongue pushing past through the tight ring of resistance until he’s plunged through your core. You wobble above him, remaining upright only by his arm pushing your back flat on your under boob.
Sukuna slurps at your cunt yearningly, the hums he gives every now and then, making your core vibrate. You grind your pussy on his face, the black marks lined on his face glistening.
He moves to suck at your clit, transitioning after each beat to slurping the swollen bud and kissing your lips as if he was making out with it. You’re sure you’re making a mess on his face, but he doesn’t give you time to feel embarrassed about it. He spreads your legs further until your muscles ache from the stretch, the pain accompanied by your stomach tightening.
“S-Sukuna, oh, oh yeah,” you bang your fist on the door, his smug chuckles sending you over the edge. Your pupils blow wide as you feel the impending orgasm weigh down on you heavily, about to send you into overdrive by his tongue swiping at your lips, teasing you to give it to him more, give it to him harder. Turning your head down to warn him you’re coming, the words die on your throat because he’s already looking at you, his cheeks and nose smothered with your shining slick, and the brat is smirking. “Shit, you’re a little—” Sukuna cuts you off by generously sucking your clit one more time, pulling the muscle taut just to show you that it’s rolling between his lips. It looks fucking insane and filthy that you come right there and then.
Your orgasm is so strong that you actually slip from your heels. A scream from you is knocked back into you just as fast, Sukuna moving quick and graceful in one fluid movement. He catches your leg and shoves you against the door, gripping at your hips until you’re bending forward, ass perked, and wiggling just for him.
For a split second, you’re sure you hear the unbuckling of a belt, but it all fades in your clouded mind.
Sukuna enters you in one thrust, the sensation of being filled up so soon rendering you speechless. Literally absolutely silent, palms flat on the door and tongue lolled out, all the burning in your body focused on your centre.
He releases a grunt at finally being inside your plush, warm walls. Sukuna allows you to get used to his length for a solid minute, both of you catching your breath in the meantime. Your tits are sprawled out, and you’re a shaky mess, feeling nothing less of dirty yet so aroused that you can’t do anything about it. Sukuna thrusts in slowly at first, and that’s when you feel the size difference between him and Megumi. Megs was definitely blessed in the dick department, and he’s always been so cocky about it, but goddamn, Sukuna was beyond huge.
You think you could cum again just from him filling you up. He was stretching you out so well that he leaves behind a faint burn, making you feel as if it’s your first time all over again – all for the good reasons.
He soon begins to set his pace, one of his hands tugging at your ponytail so he could see your glossy eyes and mouth hanging open. Sukuna scoffs at your fucked out state, too cock-hungry even to form coherent sentences. His length is slipping past your folds in such a tantalizing, delicious state, the prominent veins of his cock kissing the bumpy ridges of your walls. He was right – you’re definitely changing your perspective on pleasure because you don’t think you’ve felt this good in your life.
With Megumi, it was mostly always about his own release. With Sukuna, he’s making sure you get to feel inch by luscious inch slipping out of you before he slides them back in, his deep moans the dirtiest thing you’ve ever heard.
“Aw, look at you,” he coos, kissing you sideways sloppily. Sukuna reaches the edges of your lips but licks at your skin anyway. His canines revealed to graze at your skin. It’s so animalistic, so carnal, and he’s fucking you with such primal need that you forget everything you once knew about sex. “Your pretty pussy is drooling for cock, sweetheart. Such a dirty little thing, taking me like this.”
Now, this was lust as its purest form, the rhythm of his hips so sinful you’ve lost faith in everything but how he’s making you feel.
The walls are pounding with the bass boosting outside, but soon even the loud volume of the synthesized music is drowned by your whimpers. Sukuna lets go of your hair to place his hands on your hips. If he was dominant before, he only encourages you to scream his name louder, realizing that he was still being nice seconds ago, but now he’s the one controlling you.
He pounds roughly into you until you’re crying, your drool dribbling from your lips and small patches dropping to the floor. It’s the same with your cunt. You’re so wet that you can feel squirts of cum staining his pants and your legs. Sukuna doesn’t stop praising you on how you’re so perfect, how your cunt is the tightest he’s ever fucked, and now he gets why your boy toy could never really let you go. In the middle of it all, he manages to slip in a comment that maybe Megumi’s dick isn’t big enough to stretch you out because you’re wrapped around him like a vice, to which you respond that he’s just massive.
“Fuck yeah, I am,” he agrees cockily, eyes narrowed at where his length kept being swallowed by your pussy. “I’m fucking destroying you, sweetheart. You’ll be broken by the end of this, fuck.”
His words are like ambrosia you’re getting drunk on, the filthiness of his mouth fuelling your desire. Your body heats up at the same time that familiar tingling tightens in your stomach, and you blindly stretch your arm out behind him. Sukuna easily reads your mind and takes your hand, looping his fingers with yours. His palm is right above your knuckle, and the angle hurts your arm so bad you cry harder.
“Please, please, please,” you beg him and snap your hips back to meet his dick thrust by thrust, “I’m so fucking close, please—”
“I got you, sweetheart,” he leans down for a quick peck at your hand, increasing his pace as he twitches inside you. Sukuna is thrown off rhythm by the way you grip down on his dick harder, his breath stuttering as a result. You wrap your fingers around him as your second orgasm that night crashes down onto you in waves, his cock on the brink of being spent from how you’re milking him.
He pounds deep and slow into you, relishing in the warmth of your cunt that he’s losing his mind, basically in the same state as you are now. You’re panting and sweating, cursing at each thrust, and he stills for a moment, pulling out so fast that you wince at the emptiness. Sukuna pumps his dick with his free hand and shoots his load onto your back, his moans guttural and hoarse. You grimace at the warm cum now coating your back because there’s no way you’re using your dress to wipe that away.
Sukuna chuckles at your silence, probably noting in the way you frown at him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair, his cock growing hard despite releasing a huge load. “Next time, I’ll cum in your mouth. I want to see you swallow me like a good girl.”
You think you’re so sly by scoffing at him, but Sukuna isn’t stupid. He sees the way you light up at his implications, and he walks closer to you, a hand wrapped around your throat before you pull you flush against his chest. You gasp at the lack of air, blindly patting behind you, but your hand only grazes at his cock, which twitches excitedly at the contact.
“Yeah, next time,” he affirms with a low growl, licking from your jaw down to your neck. It’s so hot, he’s so hot, and you’ve never felt this sexy in your life that you soon become on par with him, pussy clenching around nothing. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not leaving unless I’ve changed your mind,” he teases the base of your throat to squeeze it tighter, the swift movement of him filling you once more escalating to a tenfold. Your struggle to breathe causes you to clamp down on him hard and Sukuna’s chuckles falter into a quick inhale that’s so satisfying to witness. “What do you think? Still need more demonstrations?”
“Yes,” you choke out. Sukuna’s victorious and award-winning smile is hidden at the sweaty column of your neck where he leaves little kisses in its wake, ones that soon turn into something of a harsh bite. “Yes, please, show me more. Need you, need you so bad, you fuck me better than he does.”
Sukuna does more than show you that night. He makes you feel a thousand more nerves set on fire until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. After all, what better way to change someone’s mind than to mess with it on the inside?
In the end, when it comes down to it, your lies were way too sweet – and he was too addicted to make you stop.
𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎 𝑏𝑦 @adastrabyssosque. 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑜 𝑟𝑢𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠
it had been a few weeks since you’d been transported into your favorite video game, genshin impact. during that time, you had been told you were impersonating a god you didn’t even know existed, been fatally wounded more times than you can count, somehow survived all of those wounds that should’ve killed you, and met albedo’s twin, who you had been teaching to act like khoi dao, his voice actor, and quite possibly the most chaotic man you’ve ever seen.
it had been some time since you got done teaching him some quotes from khoi, and you were currently hiding in a chest while the knights of favonius searched his lab and questioned him about his whereabouts the last time you had been spotted.
“well, you have to admit it is suspicious when you’re nowhere to be found the same time someone who looks exactly like you is seen running with the impostor.” kaeya spoke, his calm facade never once leaving, despite the obvious anger and suspicion in his visible eye.
“that’s not fair, you’re jumping to a lot of conclusions here kaeya. what, just because you saw me do it all of a sudden it’s me?” it took every ounce of restraint in your body to not burst into laughter as soon as he spoke the iconic lines, but you figured dying wouldn’t be worth it. “excuse me? what is that supposed to mean?” kaeya’s bewildered face was definitely worth the weeks you spent teaching rubedo what various swears meant.
“it means you should get the fuck out.” with every word that came out of rubedo’s mouth, kaeya just looked more and more confused, eventually opting to stop asking questions and just leave.
once the cost was clear, he let you out of the chest, and apologized for the inconvenience, telling you he would make sure you had a proper hiding spot for next time. you told him not to worry, and that the tight space was worth it to get to watch what just happened.
it had been a while since your last encounter with one of the knights, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and the eyes you felt on your back at all times.
you were taking a walk with rubedo, when you two suddenly got stopped by kaeya, again. “well, what do we have here? it seems you’re hanging around this impostor again albedo. i theorize that by next week you’ll be fighting everyone over this delusion of yours.” his smirk was infuriating, and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face. “the only problem with the theory, is that’s it’s fucking wrong! she isn’t an impostor, and it’s insulting that you’d say otherwise!” it was sweet how harshly he was defending you, but you still couldn’t help but let a tiny laugh escape.
making eye contact with rubedo, he let out a chuckle of his own, then faced kaeya again, and saying goodbye before teleporting both of you back to his lab in dragonspine.
it had been another week, and everyone had realized their mistake, now you had the most powerful people in all of teyvat at your feet, begging for forgiveness and mercy. of course, you weren’t ready to forgive them just yet, but that didn’t stop them from trying. you and rubedo had just been staying in a cabin in dragonspine, trying to be as far away from any of your so called acolytes as possible.
one of them had found you though, and that brought all of the others to come running for what they hoped would be a chance to win your forgiveness. you two were cornered, surrounded by those who claimed to be the most devoted and loyal.
“please your grace! we sincerely regret our actions, and will do anything for you to believe us! this is like hell, we would do anything for a crumb of your divine presence!” all the so called apologizes were just regurgitated phrase that none of them even meant, you were getting tired of it, so you sent rubedo to deal with them, knowing exactly what he would say when they brought up it being like hell. those few words that you spent so much time teaching him.
“welcome to hell, bitch.”
Chris Evans x female reader
Summary: The last months hadn’t been easy to say the absolute least. Once Chris finds out what’s wrong, he takes care of you in every way possible.
Warnings: Depression, burn out, mention of thinking about suicide, age-gap anxiety, mention of described medicitation to calm somebody down, smut! Pure smut, creampie, no condom, overstimulation, daddy kink, dirty talk,
A/N: Okay, so I’m going through a lot… apparently I have a burn out and I’m in a depression so this is kind of personal for me but obviously with a twist. This is also my first time writing smut….
You were working on a new big movie project as an actress. Your costar was Chris Evans and god what a man. You were absolutely in love with him but tried to keep it on the low, your feelings. He was your costar after all and besides you believed he saw you just as a little sister because there is an age-gap and you just couldn’t believe that a man like that would fall in love with you.
Normally you had quite the self confidence but that faded away when you start to feel down and depressed. Not only were you working on a big project but you were already in the headlines because of your last movie. That was your first actual movie and it got you immediately in the public eye. All of a sudden you had to deal with a lot of public attention, which was quite overwhelming for you. Not only that but you still had school and you worked as an intern so that brought enormous amount of stress along.
You tried to act like nothing was wrong but it slowly got worse and worse. You lost motivation, felt extremely depressed and worthless, you even thought a lot about suicide. It was a nasty time and a lot of loved ones saw you crumbling down under all the stress you were in.
Chris saw it too. He didn’t say anything except: “Hey, you know you can talk to me right?” and you would always just nod, give him a smile and say: “I know, thanks Chris.” He would leave it there because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.
You started to lose a lot of sleep over it, you didn’t eat great, nightmares for when you did actually tend to fall asleep, breakdowns, mood swings etc. You knew after going for so long, that it was finally time to get some help. You went to your doctor and he was very concerned about you. He wanted to see you at least once a week until someone could help you. A lot of things went wrong, like the people he tried to get you to, couldn’t help you and it in the end you had to call somebody and search for help.
This was a very stressful time and took more energy in the end of the day than doing as if everything was okay. You were completely and utterly exhausted and people started to notice on set. Your doctor did say that you had a burn out and a heavy depression. And boy those two cannot go together what so ever. He also gave you some opium medication so you could relax a bit and get some sleep.
You just wanted to scream: “Nevermind, I’m fine, I was kidding.” To the world so everything would just stop even though this was indeed the right thing to do in the end, it still didn’t feel like it. Your mom and a couple of friends knew and they were extremely worried. You had to tell them lies, to comfort them. Maybe that was the hardest part. Tell them lies because they would feel okay. Yeah it’s definitely not okay but for now it was better this way. It’s a long story on why you did what you had to do. She wouldn’t be able to handle the truth…. Let’s keep it on that.
You walked on set, just came back from your doctor, who advised you to stop for a while but you couldn’t do that, didn’t want to either. You were just hella confused by everything and wanted so badly to escape but you couldn’t.
You felt your eyes filling up with tears and the pressure on your chest worsening because of all the heavy emotions. Chris saw you walking in a fast pace towards your trailer. He could see from miles away that you were far from fine.
He frowned and walked over to your trailer. You forgot to close the door in a sheer panic and sought for your medication to calm you down. You shakily found the bottle and opened the lid, with a sniff as the tears started falling. You popped the pills in and washed them away with some water in your shaky hand.
Chris watched you from outside the trailer and softly knocked, trying not to scare you even though you were already jumpy from the anxiety. You turned around quickly like being a deer caught in headlights. Chris gave you a sad sympathetic smile. “Hey sweetheart….” He told you softly, giving you a look of knowledge. You looked down in embarrassment. “Hey Chris…..” you whispered as you wiped away the left overs of tears that were spilled on your cheek.
He carefully stepped into your trailer and walked up to you, trying to make eye contact which you dodged. He carefully placed his hands on your upper arms, rubbing it softly before pulling you into the warmth of his body and arms.
You didn’t really knew how to behave right now as you let your arms linger besides you. He got your arms and placed them around him for a hug back. You held him loosely, feeling like the dam was about to be broken as your feelings start to rise to the very surface. Heart started to pick up as you tried to push it down to no avail.
You started to hold Chris tighter, pulling his cardigan into your fist as you grabbed it tightly, scared to let go. That was a cue for Chris to hold you tighter and closer to him. You hid your face in chest as the familiar and safe smell of Chris indulged your nose.
This might’ve been the first time in forever that you felt safe and loved. Those positive feelings broke the dam and everything got finally out. You started to shake and sob uncontrollably. Chris rested his head on yours as he grabbed you just a bit tighter than before. “I’ve got you now, I know sweetheart. You’re doing so good and been so strong but I’ve got you now. Let me help you and take care of you now. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
The kind words of Chris shot like a bullet through your heart and soul, giving you relief you needed so desperately and as a reaction, you held him as tight as you could. Grabbing his cardigan so tight to the point you could feel your nails dig into the palms of your hands.
Chris placed his hand on top of your head and pulled you closer to his chest. He looked around for a second because he thought that you might lose the strength of your legs. He got you out of the hug for a second as he took your hands in his. You had an entire blackout as he moved the both of you to the couch. He pulled you into his lap so he could hold you better.
You just let it all happen, knowing that you were in safe hands. You automatically wrapped your legs around Chris and hid your face in the crook of his neck as he softly rubbed your back. You had no idea for how long you sat there crying or what time it was for all that matter, once the uncontrollable sobs came to an end and your heartrate started to slow down.
You felt the headache coming up and felt utterly exhausted and empty right now. Chris noticed that you calmed down a bit and got your face out of the safe hiding spot as he looked into your red eyes. He gave you a kiss on the top of your forehead and you felt the tears pooling into your eyes again as your heart finally felt relief and love from the small gesture Chris made.
It had been forever that someone showed you affection and it showed. Your heart started to ache for more and you never wanted to let go of Chris. He looked back into your eyes as he softly rubbed your cheek, which felt sore from the salty tears that had been falling for a good amount of time.
“I’m so proud of you baby, but I need to know what’s going on in order to properly help you, so I can take some of the weight from you. You’re not alone anymore and I’m not going nowhere.” He said softly to you.
You nodded and started to tell him everything from the very beginning, pouring your heart out as he listened very carefully and at some parts squeezed your hands to let you know he was there as you sat comfortably on his lap.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked carefully. “It was easier to deny everything and act than to give in and feel. I was confused and still am. My head is so clouded all of the time and….. and I’m tired… exhausted. I’m just done right now.” he nodded as he carefully placed a string of hair behind your ear, letting his hand cup your cheek after again. “I’m so proud of you that you told me this. I know it’s hard and you’re one of the bravest, strongest and most courageous person I’ve ever seen in my entire life and it’s an honor. I mean, you went through all of this alone and took care of yourself or at least tried to and didn’t gave up…. even if it felt like you did, you didn’t because you are still here. You don’t have to do this alone anymore and we’ll figure this out, together. But right now it’s very important to go back to basic. Get some rest, try to relax and do fun stuff. We’ll go day by day and I’ll be right by your side if you’ll let me.” he told you as the last part was more of a question for approval.
You nodded, not able to say anything. You didn’t feel alone anymore and felt a heavy weight lifted off of your shoulders and heart. You felt safe and it was incredibly nice that you had someone, especially Chris, by your side who would take care of you, if you weren’t able.
He gave you another soft smile and nodded. “What you think off staying with me for a while, so I can take care of you better and you have nothing to worry about regular stuff for a while hmh, so that pretty head of yours can take some proper rest.” he asked you as he went with his hand over your hair. You nodded again and he smiled as he pulled you into a big hug.
“Let gather your stuff then okay?” he helped you off of him and got your stuff with you. You took everything you need. “I’ll go talk to the director and tell him that we’re going to a week or two off.” you looked at him panicked and he walked up to you “Sweetheart, I know it’s not fun but you can’t keep working like this. Your health is the most important and mental health falls in that category. No discussions.” He told you soft but stern, not leaving room for a discussion and to be honest you were to tired to argue. You just nodded. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head and walked out.
You packed your things up in your suitcase when Chris walked back in. “It’s fine sweetheart. They understand and we still have a lot of time so we don’t have to worry.” He told you and gave you a kiss on the top of your head again.
He got your suitcase once everything was packed and placed it in the back of his car. He opened the door for you as you got in. “So, we’ll drop off your stuff at my place and what do you think of going trough town for a bit? We can go to a bookstore and get you some new books and get some snacks for tonight.” He asked you once he was seated next to you.
You were tired but it did sound really nice to get out of your head for a minute and walk through a bookstore. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He smiled and drove to his place. It didn’t took long to arrive there and once Chris opened the door, Dodger came up running to you. You crouched down and petted the playful and sweet dog.
Chris noticed that Dodger was very calm around you at this point and he smiled, knowing that Dodger felt it and immediately changed his behavior. After putting everything in his house and got the stuff you needed, you headed into town.
Chris noticed that your anxiety started to pick up and carefully took your hand in his, making you look up at him in surprise. “Is this okay?” he asked you and you nodded as you held his hand a little tighter. He walked into the bookstore with you. It was very quiet. Feeling relieved you searched through the books and held a couple in your arms. Chris came up to you and took the books from you so you could search better.
You didn’t know how long you spent in the store as time slipped away from your perspective. Chris never, not once groaned or looked annoyed at how long it might’ve been. You looked so calm for the first time in months that he’d seen you, so he just let you be.
After a while Chris came up to you. “Sweetheart? I’ll be back in ten minutes. I need some stuff. You just take your time okay? I’ll place your books by the counter and be right back.” he told you calmly ad gave you another kiss on the top of your head as you nodded. You searched through some more books and read some stuff until Chris came back.
You got the books and even though Chris wanted to pay for it, you shook your head and didn’t let him. You walked out and took his hand in yours again as you saw more people on the street, which gave you more anxiety right now.
Chris got the bag with all the books out of your grasp and held it for you as he gave you a gentle smile. You walked past a store with crystals and tarot cards and stuff and you looked in a little. Chris noticed. “Do you want to go in?” he asked you softly. “Can we?” he just gave you a smile and led you into the store.
You looked through all the crystals and told Chris about them and about the collection you had back home with your mom. You explained the meanings of them and how they worked etc. He looked very interested and he was. He also found the way you spoke very calming for himself so he loved to listen to you. He looked around and pointed out a box with multiple crystals in them.
You walked over and smiled as you took them, along with another book and a deck of special tarot cards. This time Chris paid. You looked at him in surprise and he winked at you. “My treat sweetheart.” You smiled shyly and murmured a shy “thank you.” he was happy with himself as he took your hand in his again and walked to the store where they would sell all kinds of snacks from around the world.
You both looked around and got a lot of stuff. Also new things you wanted to try because they looked good. Things from Japan, China, England, Netherlands. Just a lot of things. You also got a lot of candy, drinks, cookies and of course the snacks. You giggled a little in embarrassment at how much you both got.
Chris smiled proudly as you both paid and walked out of the store and towards the car to get back. Now you were exhausted but it felt like your spirit had been lifted just a little. You got in and Chris drove you back home to his place.
“Make yourself at home sweetheart.” He told you and you nodded. You sat down on the couch as Chris made some tea. Dodger already by your side. You got one of the books and got immediately drawn into another, more peaceful world. Chris smiled as he saw your eyes scanning every word that was typed out on the page.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were so special to him and he fell in love so hard and quick when he got to know you. You were the one for him. He never felt like this before for someone else and he knew he wouldn’t love another as much as he loved you. He would do everything in his power to protect, help and take care of you until you felt like yourself again and found the light. And if you were unable to find the light he would make sure make some light instead of finding it. He would get you the moon and the sun if he could.
He knew for sure you liked him too. The glances you gave him didn’t go unnoticed by him and even though you thought you were subtle, you definitely were not. But Chris found it utterly adorable.
He walked towards you with the tea and sat down. He saw that your eyes started to droop down. “Lay down princes.” He instructed and did as you were told. He got a blanket and carefully and gently tucked you in. “There you go, get some rest now. You are allowed to get some rest, you’ve done so much more than enough today. You deserve it.” the permission Chris gave you helped you to get some rest as you didn’t allow yourself to get it so when someone else did say it to you, it was easier.
You closed your eyes as you felt Dodger laying down by your stomach, giving off warmth and comfort. Chris gently placed your legs on his lap and kept your feet warm as you drifted off in a much needed sleep.
You woke up and looked around, Dodger still with you. It was already dark outside and you had no idea how long you’ve slept. You stood up, feeling your bones crack in your body as you stretched. You walked to the kitchen and saw Chris cooking, you saw he had changed into a pair of sweats and a grey shirt. You felt your heart flutter at the sight as you finally felt calm.
Christ noticed your presence in the room and turned around. “Hey, how you’ve slept?” he asked as he walked up to you and pulled you into a hug. You carefully placed your arms around him as you felt his muscles underneath the shirt. You rested your head against his chest as you let in a breath. “best I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.” he smiled and you could hear his heart skip a couple of beats against your face. “That’s good to hear and you don’t have to thank me sweetheart.”
He gave you a kiss on the top of your head and made you sit on the kitchen counter. “I’m making pasta, is that okay?” he asked you, making you smile. “It’s perfect.” He turned around and leaned against the counter as he looked at you with a soft smile and love in his eyes. You felt shy but couldn’t hide the small smile that made it’s way on your lips.
He filled the plates with the pasta and you both ate and talked in between. After dinner you took a shower and got into some comfortable clothes. You still felt very heavy but it was such an extreme relief to finally have someone that you felt just a little bit better than before.
You walked downstairs and saw Chris on the couch, filling your heart with more longing for the man that protected and took care of you. You walked towards the couch and sat down next to him but with an respectful distance. He looked at you and the distance.
“If you want, we can cuddle.” He suggested carefully. You smiled and got closer to him as he wrapped his arms around you. He let you chose a movie and of course you chose a feel good movie, like holiday. You were completely indulged into the movie and didn’t noticed that you were holding on more and tighter on Chris.
He smiled as he looked at you. “Sweetheart? Do you like me?” he asked carefully all of a sudden, taking him by surprise as well. Your eyes went big and you pulled a little away from him. A sudden pang of panic and anxiety formed into his chest, swallowing him whole. He didn’t mean to say it and he could just bash his head in right now.
“I eh… Why you ask?” you looked at him carefully, scared to make eye contact. “I don’t know, it just came out. I’m sorry that I’ve asked, I shouldn’t have.” This time you could tell that he was having an anxiety attack, so you grabbed his hand. “Do you like me Chris?” you asked carefully.
He looked at his hand in yours and how your thumb softly rubbed the back of his and looked up after. A sudden wave of calmness took over him. “I do. I find you the most beautiful, smart, strongest, courageous, sweetest, kindest, I could go on for a while, woman in the world.” He told you sincere. You felt your cheeks heat up and looked up at him, making eye contact.
You saw the love radiating from his eyes as was anxiously awaiting your answer. “do you really mean that?” you whispered, not trusting your voice. He carefully nodded. You played with his fingers, twirling them around yours, as he started to do the same, going in synchronization. You looked up, gathering courage.
“I really like you too Chris.” He gave you a soft smile and signed for you to come to him so you did. He placed you on his lap again. He softly took your face between his palms as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks. “I would like to try with you, if you want that to.” You nodded and he smiled. “We’ll take it at your pace. And if you want things to go slower, we’ll do that. But you’re priority now and I’ll only do what you want and tell me to do right now okay?” he made eye contact and looked deeply into your eyes so the message would be clear.
You nodded as you softly grabbed his wrist besides your face. You took in a breath and looked at him. “I would like you to kiss me Chris….” You told him and he got a gentle smile on his face as he softly licked his lips and came closer to you, at the same time pulling you in.
Your lips touched and you both sighed in the kiss as you melted in one another. You were chest to chest right now and not only melted into the kiss but completely into each other. His right hand went from your cheek to your hair and so did your hands, tucking them in his hair.
It was one of the most passionate kiss you’ve ever had, taking your breath away completely and speeding up your heartbeat. You felt his tongue against your lips for access which you granted with pleasure. He gently tucked your hair a little, mirroring your actions. His hair felt soft and you felt intoxicated right now.
You automatically grinded a little on his lap, making him groan and moan in the kiss a little, tucking your hair more as the kiss turned more heated. He pulled back for air and looked at you with blown pupils. “baby, we need to stop if we want to take things slow.” He told you but you could already feel him grow hard underneath you and you were already wet.
The room grew silent with tension. The only sound that was heard, was the deep breathing. “I don’t want you to stop….” You told him, completely in a trans. “I don’t want you to regret anything just because you want it now sweetheart.”
It made your heart flutter even more, making you want him even more. You boldly moved a little on his lap, hearing him groan as he let his head fall down back. He grabbed your hips tightly as his fingers dug into your skin. “This would be the last thing I would regret. I promise.” You told him softly and placed your lips against the skin of his neck.
You could hear and feel his breath hitch a little as you attacked his neck. He took your face in his hands again. “If you want to stop, I need and want you to tell me okay?” he told you as he looked at you with lust in his eyes, making you nod.
Once you nod, his lips attacked yours. He got you off of his lap and took you upstairs. You took his shirt off and let your hands wander over his chest as he kissed you like it was the end of the world. He took your sweater off as well, leaving you in your bra.
He left wet kisses from your neck to your chest as he unclasped your bra. When he got it off his lips went back to your lips, pulling you against his chest. Your hands wandered lower to his sweats, tugging them as a hint to take them off and your hands moved lower to his, still, growing bulge, making Chris moan in the kiss.
This time you pulled back and got your sweatpants off and Chris followed as he softly laid you down on his bed. He hang above you, attacking your lips again, this time making you moan in the kiss.
His lips trailed down from your neck to your chest to your breast as he took one in his mouth and played with the other between his fingers. You moaned and arched your back towards his chest, your hands through his hair as goosebumps covered your skin.
His lips trailed further down, leaving wet spots on your stomach as he pulled your panties down and kissed the inside of your thighs, moving up this time. It took one lick, to make you a whimpering mess already.
So many nights had you thought about this while touching yourself and now it was finally becoming true. He kept notice of your body language, in what you liked and what you didn’t. His mouth now attached to your clit as he licked and sucked. You were lost for breath and saw stars. You knew it wasn’t going to take long for you to come. You whimpered and moaned as his hand found your stomach and held you down on the bed.
“Chris…. I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered. “Come for me baby, come for daddy.” That was it, the last sentence took you over the edge in seconds, leaving you a shaky, whimpering mess on his bed. His lips went back over your body, going up. He got you into a passionate kiss and you could taste yourself on his lips, feeling him grind onto your body. “You taste delicious baby. I’ll never get enough of you.” he told you, making you shiver.
He attacked your neck and pinned you down on the bed when you tried to get his boxers off. “No. This night is all about you baby.” You moaned only at that already. God it was so hot. His fingers found your slit again as he sat on top of you. You immediately moaned again as his motions grew faster.
You’ve never experienced such a fast orgasm. Not even your vibrator could do this or have such an effect on you. “Come for daddy baby. Make daddy proud.” He noticed that, that sent you over the edge for the first time so he tried it again and again, you had an eye rolling orgasm.
Chris still sat on top of you and licked his fingers as he made eye contact with you. “Please fuck me daddy.” You told him, making him grin. He got out of his boxers and your eyes went big at how huge Chris was. “Don’t worry baby. I won’t hurt you.” he told you as he gave you a kiss on the top of your head. That gesture alone made you even more wetter than before.
“He laid you down and looked up at you. “Are you sure sweetheart?” he asked you and you nodded. “No princes, I need to hear you.” you swallowed a little “Yes daddy.” He smiled and gave you a kiss on the top of your nose and lips again.
He positioned himself between your slit and you already moaned at that, you grew impatient and wanted him in you. You bucked your hips a little, making Chris chuckle. “Someone’s eager.” He told you but placed you down by his hand. He carefully slipped in, taking your face in to see if there wasn’t any discomfort, which wasn’t. He muffled your moans with his mouth as he placed it on yours.
He wasn’t even halfway in and he carefully pushed forward and played with your breast. Once he was fully in he got out of the kiss, looking at you. “You okay baby?” he asked you carefully as he took a stranded hair, that stuck to your face from the sweat, away. “Yes daddy”
He smiled and slowly stared moving, making you both moan in unison. Your nails found his back and he hissed a little as you had your claws in his back in no time. His movements got a good pace and you felt yourself grow closer again. “I’m going to come again daddy.” You announced. “You’re such a good girl, come for daddy princes.”
Your walls squeezed him tightly and he let out a loud moan. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long baby.” He told you out of breath as you were still shaking underneath him. He pulled out of you, making you whimper at the lost and emptiness.
“Come ride daddy, baby girl.” He told you and helped you get seated. You started moving and Chris looked mesmerized at you. He pulled you down so he could kiss you. His fingers dug into your flesh again as he helped you set the pace. You grew closer again and your fingers intertwined with Chris’s as you placed them behind your back.
“Cum for daddy.” He told you and his thumb found your clit as you kept riding him, sending you, once again, over the edge. You collapsed on his chest from the many orgasms in such a short amount of time. Chris moaned in your ear as you squeezed him again and his moans in your ear not helping that case what so ever.
He got you off of him and placed you on your stomach and pulled your ass up as you still shook. He took a grip on your hips and entered you again, making you both moan. He started to pound into you and tears of pleasure started to gather in the corner of your eyes.
His pounding got so rough that you laid completely down on the bed, ass as well. He grabbed your butt cheeks in his hands and squeezed them as he kept entering you. you gasped and moaned, feeling utter bliss.
He got out of you again and rolled you back on your back and entered you again. “I’m not going to last very much longer sweetheart.” He told you as he started moving again. You tried to meet his rhythm with your hips but he pulled you down again, making you moan loudly. His hand found your mouth, covering it to muffle your moans.
His hand was quickly replaced by his lips as his thrusts became erratic. “You can cum in me daddy.” He looked at you and that was the thing that had sent Chris over the edge. He moaned and grunted as he filled you up. You felt everything and loved every minute of it.
Chris collapsed on you and held you tightly, still buried deep inside of you. Both trying to catch your breath. He looked at you and placed his lips on yours lovingly but still out of breath. “Was I too rough?” he asked you nervously. “No, it was perfect.” He smiled which you mirrored and kissed you again. “Let’s take a shower sweetheart.” You nodded and he carefully exited you, making you whimper. “I’m sorry baby.” He kissed the top of your head and got your hand in his so he could lead you to the bathroom but your legs wobbled too much.
He chuckled a little, “Let’s take a bath instead mhm?” you nodded and drew a bath with essential oils and a bath bomb he got when he walked out of the bookstore. It was a present for you. You smiled at his sweet present and kissed his lips.
He helped you in and you sat with your back against Chris. His arms wrapped around you, leaving kisses on your shoulder. You smiled and intertwined your fingers together. After the relaxing bath he helped you into one of his shirts and boxers. He cleaned the bed very fast, telling you to get one of your new books in the meantime.
When you got back and turned off every light downstairs, Chris was already done with the bed. You couldn’t wait to crawl in, feeling exhausted but finally happy and calm again in a long time. This morning you hadn’t even a vision for the future but that had changed in a short period of time because of Chris.
You crawled into the bed and started reading a bit but couldn’t focus on the words. Chris walked in the room and crawled in next to you. You placed away the book, laid down but turned to face Chris. He smiled softly and lovingly at you. You crawled closer and he already placed his arms around you. “I love you sweetheart.” You smiled against his chest. “I love you too Chris.”
He kissed the top of your hair and pulled you closer. You could feel Chris softly drew patterns on your skin and you relaxed into his arm. You turned around as a little spoon and pulled Chris’s arm over your body. He scooped you closer and rested his head on the top of yours. The warmth and safety indulged you into a peaceful sleep as you could feel Chris place soft kisses on your shoulder. You still had a long way to go but with Chris it would be easier, that was one thing that was sure.
Title: Burn sequel to Siren
Pairing: Firefighter!Beefy!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky gets some use out of his bat.
Chapter warnings: violence, mentions of past abuse, toxic ex, stalking, tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, MINORS DNI!
A/N: i know i said this would be done in the afternoon, but i REALLY wanted a bomb ass smut scene, so it was delayed a bit. i’ve been getting a lot of asks about Firefighter!Bucky and Sugar, so i wanted to give y’all a spicy lil’ update 🥰
This is a work of FICTION, and it contains ADULT themes, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk!
Bucky sleeps on your porch for two weeks.
“What if they need you at the station tonight?” You asked the third night, not looking him in the eye as you toyed with the hem of your t-shirt.
“I’ll here the bell from here, don’t you worry.” He refused every time you asked him to go home, so you made it as comfortable as you could, giving him blankets and pillows as he stood watch over you. You don’t know what you did to deserve it, to have earned such protection, but when you ask Steve, he just smiles, shaking his head.
“Buck’s got his reasons. I’m sure he’ll tell you if you ask him.”
But then when Monday comes again, and you haven’t seen hide nor hair from Rich, not even a text, you finally convince Bucky to go home for more than a shower.
“I’m fine,” you say, even though the worry still gnaws at you like a dog with an old bone. “Seriously. He’s just trying to scare me.” It’s working. I’m terrified. You’d spent the last few weeks wondering if you needed to move again, if maybe leaving the country was a better option, since changing states hadn’t seemed to do you much good.
“If you need me,” he says again, resting a warm hand on your shoulder, his eyes intense, “You call.” You nod, even though you know you won’t. Maybe it’s stupid, but you’re afraid for him. You know he’s strong, stronger than anyone you’ve ever met—you’d watched him tilt your car a foot off the ground one handed when the jack broke as he’d fixed a tire—but… You knew what Rich could do, too.
Your hip throbs as if in memory, and lightly you trace the top of the scar that pokes out of the waistband of your shorts. I’m sure the doctors remember too. You watch Bucky’s big red Dodge pull out of the driveway, and somehow the house feels emptier for the lack of him. The scent of fresh coffee makes your mouth water and when you trace the source of it to your kitchen, there’s a steaming mug and a note.
Don’t forget to lock up.
You can’t help but smile—he’d made it just how you liked it too, black with just a little sugar. It’s strange how that small act made you feel more ready for the day, more adept at dealing with its challenges. Perhaps it was because for the first time in a long time, even when you were with Rich, you didn’t feel… alone.
The week flies by—your shifts at the record shop moving equally quickly. You’d all but forgotten the lingering feeling of dread that had been plaguing you as you checked the doors and windows one final time. You didn’t normally close, but Dotty had asked you to on account of her grandson’s fifth birthday, and you couldn’t say no to that. You hum softly to yourself as you lock the till, the late summer sun coming in bright and orange through the glass.
It’s still so beautiful outside despite the hour, and as you walk home from the shop you sigh. Beans would have loved this. You know he’s safe, living his best doggie life on a farm in Georgia, but you miss him. Better than letting Rich blow his brains out because he wouldn’t stop defending me.
You try to shake off the disconcerting thoughts, focusing on the feel of the warm sun on your skin, the smell of grass, the sound of children playing. Your thoughts drift back to Bucky, and your face warms. You’re wondering how many times he’d watched you make your own coffee to know so well what you liked when you hear it—the slow roll of tires.
You don’t think about it at first, it’s a highly pedestrian street in a small city—there’s a thousand reasons a car could be driving slowly. It’s when you still hear it after your second turn that ice prickles along the back of your neck. Your throat goes thick as you swallow, and peek over your shoulder. It’s a black SUV, nondescript in every way that counted, rolling slowly behind you. Moving far, far slower than the speed limit, it crept along the pavement.
You clutched yourself and sped up. It wasn’t following you, it wasn’t. You repeated it like a mantra, over and over until the words blurred into gibberish in your head. Three more blocks and you were jogging briskly as the car sped up, and tears pricked at your eyes. It wasn’t Rich’s car, but anyone could rent one, couldn’t they?
Your heart is hammering, pulse roaring as a horn blasts behind you and you shriek, covering your ears. You don’t know what business you push into, but you shove your way inside, tears streaming down your face. Your hands are trembling as you dig your phone out of your pocket, and you don’t think as you call the first person you can think of, the first person to make you feel safe—
The owner of the Asian import and grocery store is kind enough to let you mill about by the register as you wait, and when you’re brave enough to peek outside, the SUV is nowhere in sight. You didn’t see Rich, didn’t hear his voice, but… it’s him. It has to be.
The bell on top of the door jingles loudly as Bucky bursts into the shop, turning sideways to fit through the narrow doorway. His eyes dart around in a panic, and relief fills them when they settle on you. He crosses over to you in two large strides, and he grabs your shoulders, looking you over.
“What’s wrong, sugar? Where is he?” He’s wearing his uniform pants, and when he hugs you, his skin smells like smoke. Guilt churns in your gut with sudden intensity, as you regret having called him at all. He must have just gotten back to the station when you’d phoned him, panicking and sobbing. Now that it had been about twenty minutes, you felt silly.
“I… I thought Rich was following me,” you admit, looking down at your sandals. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see him.” You turn to the woman behind the counter. “Thank you, Mrs. Chin.”
“Any time.” She replies, nodding conspiratorially at Bucky. “I see him here, I’ll give him a good smack.” Bucky leads you outside where his truck is idling, but stops you before you get in.
“You don’t have to apologize. I told you to call me,” he reminds you, and you frown.
“I just… I’m probably overreacting. Jumping at shadows. And you, you just got back, you’re probably exhausted and—”
“For the love of God, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit.” Your mouth hung open as he cut you off, and it snapped shut audibly. “I don’t care if you stub your goddamn toe, you call me, you hear?” Bucky squeezes your shoulder, and winks. “Can’t have anybody followin’ my best girl home, can I?”
You stand there aghast until he chuckles, walking around to the other side of the car, and you force yourself stiffly into the passenger seat. The ride home is quiet and companionable, though to you, it’s nerve-wracking. My best girl. His best girl.
Bucky pulls into park just in front of your place, killing the engine. “I’m gonna go grab some stuff from the station, I’ll be back in a minute. You want to come with?” He asks, and you know it’s so you don’t have to be by yourself. You’re tempted to go under the guise of greeting the team, but you resist. It’s only been a week since he’d been there constantly, and yet you missed him.
“No, I’ll be fine. You don’t… You don’t have to stay again, Bucky.”
“Someone followed you. I do.” The conversation is over, and he hops down from the truck. You do the same, clamoring down to the ground. “Lock up, okay?” He reminds you, and you shake your head. You’ve never been one to leave your doors open, especially not now. You head inside, dropping your purse on the hall table as you shut the front door. You kick your shoes off and wander upstairs for a shower, wondering what you’ll make for dinner for two, when you pause.
The light is on in your bedroom.
Maybe I left it on.
Goosebumps break over your arms as you descend into cool fear for the second time that evening. You step forward quietly, peering around the doorframe—
And there he is. His back is to you, but you’d know those broad shoulders, the slicked back wave of jet black hair anywhere.
“You really thought this was far enough, love bug?”
You’re barely breathing, and when he turns to look over his shoulder at you with those coal dark eyes, a little sob bubbles up between your lips. The nickname makes you nauseous, and you’re suddenly back. Back in your old apartment while Rich screams drunkenly at you—you’re back in the bathtub as his hands wrap around your throat; You trust me, don’t you love bug? You’re a deer in headlights as he advances toward you, one, two steps—
You turn to flee, your bare feet slapping against the hardwood as you sprint, but Rich is so big, his legs long and his reach so much greater than yours. When he crashes into you, tackling you to the ground, your head smacks against the wood and you see white for a painful second.
“Nice little place you got here,” he spits, straddling your waist. His weight forces the air from your lungs, and you struggle to inhale as he presses down, smiling nastily. His long, spindly fingers are on your chin, forcing you to look up at him even as your vision swims. “Where’s your ring, love bug?” His fingers dig into your jaw. “Told you you were never supposed to take it off, but it looks like you need a refresher in your lessons, hmm?”
“G-get away from me,” you wheeze, struggling beneath him. You’d taken self defense classes, learned to walk with sharp objects through your fingers—and all of it was terrifyingly useless when he had you pinned like this. You beat against his chest and he laughs, though it’s satisfying when you rake your fingers down his cheek, and skin comes away under your nails.
“You little fucking cunt!” He shouts, and the back of his hand meets your mouth hard enough to split your lip. You taste coppery blood, tears welling in your eyes. “Should’ve never left,” he growls, his other hand finding your throat and pressing down, down hard. “Never fucking should’ve left me—”
You’re only dimly aware that Rich’s weight lifts abruptly from your body after the sickening sound of something hard meeting flesh and bone cuts his tirade short. Bucky’s panting at the top of the stairs, the bat clenched tightly in his metal fist. You suck in a breath of your own before coughing and wincing.
He stops to check you, turning your jaw this way and that as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry, sugar. So sorry.” He says it over and over again, stroking your messy curls. He’s trembling, his fists clenching and unclenching as his unsteady breaths fill your ears. His body is tense behind you, coiled and ready like a spring.
“M’okay, Bucky,” you say, reaching a shaking hand up to grasp the one resting on your shoulder. Rich groans as he staggers back to his feet, cradling the left side of his head. The setting sun offers little light, and your vision swims when you try to stand, but you can see blood dripping through his fingers. Bucky leaves your side to stand over you, the bat at the ready.
“Get the fuck out.” It’s a low, menacing growl that makes you shudder, and you watch Rich’s hackles rise. He staggers to his feet, leaning against your wall, and he chuckles darkly. You know he won’t stop, won’t stay down—it’s why you’d left. Restraining orders had done nothing—flimsy fucking paper. Cop presence around your building had only deterred him for so long before you couldn’t take it anymore.
Easier just to run.
Rich wipes blood from his mouth, and spits it carelessly onto the floor. “Little whore has you fooled too, huh?” Bucky surges forward, and you cower back against the wall. He reaches Rich easily, and when he swings, Rich is ready for him, ducking down and landing a solid blow against Bucky’s side. You suck in a harsh breath.
His face tightens, but he soaks the blow, dropping the bat. “No weapon now, huh, asshole?” He’s not ready for the hit from the metal fist, and you hear the crunch of bone breaking—a rib or two—as Bucky’s own punch lands with force. He lets out a strangled moan, dropping to one knee as he clutched his middle. Bucky doesn’t relent, wrapping cool metallic fingers around Rich’s throat and hoisting him up.
“You think you’re a big man?” Bucky snarls, slamming him against the wall. His body flops like a rag doll, his limbs flying messily as he wheezes. His eyes flick to you, and you watch Bucky’s fingers tense, tightening. “You don’t fucking look at her. Look at me.” Rich garbles something, and you don’t know if it’s assent or complaint, but it doesn’t much matter when he’s hanging limply from Bucky’s grip like a strangled chicken.
“You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t text, you don’t call, you don’t write. You don’t look her up on social media, you don’t google, you fucking forget her, you understand? Nod if you understand.”
There’s silence, and you wait. You don’t think rich will respond, he won’t allow himself to be beat like this—but when Bucky’s grip tightens again, he chokes loudly, and his head dips.
“And if I see you—fuck, if I even think you’ve been around, I will kill you. I will bury you and no one will ever. Fucking. Know. Nod, Rich.”
“Sugar go call the cops.”
It’s late when the officers finally clear out of the house—it’s not enough just to take Rich into custody, they have to check every corner of the property, just to be sure he didn’t do anything else. You’re exhausted, a blanket draped around your shoulders as you stare numbly down into your rapidly cooling cup of coffee. Bucky’s talking the lingering policemen, and Nat is sitting with you at the kitchen table.
“Hey, you want a little whiskey in that?” She jokes, and you smile thinly.
“Got any?” You watch with amusement as she produces a flask from her overlarge pocket. “You just… keep this on you?”
“For special occasions. I think this counts.” She pours liberally into your mug, and when you take another sip, the liquor settles warmly in your belly. You’re halfway finished with the mug, feeling warm and less jumpy as Bucky, Sam and Steve do their own perimeter check—laughable, but sweet.
You say goodbye to them on the porch, Natasha herding Sam and Steve off while you stare down at your hands so as not to meet his gaze.
“Thank you.” You bite your lip. “I…”
“Don’t apologize,” his large hand is warm, even through the blanket when he touches your arm.
“No, he hit you! I… You fought because of me. It was dangerous, and I… I never should have put you in that position—” And then the mug is falling from your fingers to crash with a sharp tinkle against the wood because Bucky’s grabbing you with a softly muttered aw, hell, sugar—
And his lips are so soft against yours you could cry a little. Well, you are crying, but it isn’t from that. “Was so fuckin’ scared,” he murmurs, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips, your chin, your cheeks—“Saw him on top of you, you weren’t moving—“ He lets out a choked noise, and you’re drawn into his embrace.
You slowly bring your arms up to hung him back, your fingers tangling in his henley. His best girl. And then you’re kissing him too, the blanket falling, discarded just like the mug. His tongue passes over the split in your lip, but the pain is sweet and he soothes it. You can’t believe you didn’t notice, a million touches, a million soft words, he’d slept on your porch for half a month—
An excited hoot from across the street makes your face burn, and Bucky laughs against your lips.
“No, no, don’t stop now, we’re gonna get chairs!” Sam shouts, and you groan, burying your face against Bucky’s chest, your nose brushing his dog tags. And as if you aren’t embarrassed enough, Bucky sweeps you into his arms, hooking one easily under your thighs as you yelp.
“No free shows, Wilson!” He yells over his shoulder, and you giggle.
“Bucky the blanket—“
“We’ll get it later.” He kicks the door open and then shut without dropping you, and presses you against it. He looks like he’s about to take rough possession of your mouth again, but before he does, Bucky pauses. “Is this okay?” He asks softly, stroking down the side of your face with his thumb. “I can wait, we don’t have to—”
It’s your turn to interrupt and you shake your head, hushing him with a finger. “Gimme somethin’ else to think about, Buck.” You don’t have time to giggle at the way he curses, leaning his head back before his mouth finds yours again and he makes good on your request. Bucky tastes like whiskey and cinnamon, and you can’t get enough, moaning into his mouth as you press as close to him as you possibly can.
You tilt your head up as he noses along your jaw, content to smooth his hands over every part of you he can reach; softly cupping your breasts through your shirt, fingers playing at the waistband of your jeans, squeezing and kneading the cheeks of your ass with increasingly pleased growls.
“Much as I wanna fuck you right up against this door, sugar, I think I want you somewhere softer,” he huffs against the shell of your ear, and you nod dizzily. Your head is foggy again, but this time from the weight of his large hands, the cool press of his metal fingers against your nipples, swollen and pressing hard against the fabric of your bra. “Couch. Go.” He delivers a little slap to your ass and the little moan that escapes your throat surprises the both of you.
He’s half a step behind you the whole way, and by the time you make it to the living room, he’s on you. Guiding you down to the pillows with sure hands. His fingers are undoing the button on your jeans, tugging them down your legs as you lift your hips to assist. Bucky’s nostrils flare at the sight of your panties, black and lacy, the crotch stained with your slick. You feel embarrassment heat your cheeks as cool air meets your scantily covered folds, but Bucky licks his lips hungrily, his eyes dark as they meet yours.
“Tell me to stop,” he says lowly, his palms flexing on your thighs as he holds them apart. Your pulse is so loud in your ears you’re surprised you even hear him, and you lick your lips. His eyes follow the movement hungrily. “I want you so bad—” He pauses to steady himself, closing his eyes and taking a breath. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want you to stop, Bucky.” The words are barely off your tongue before he’s pressing his tongue to your—barely—clothed slit, lapping against the damp fabric. Your sharp exhalation of breath becomes a whine as his fingers the fabric aside and he tastes you, groaning into your folds. Bucky delves into your tight entrance with his tongue and you shudder, your hips rolling as your eyes slide shut.
“Eyes on me, sugar,” he growls, and when your lids snap open and your watery gaze meets his, he practically purrs. “Good girl.” The words make your cunt clench as a fresh wave of slick coats his tongue. “Want you to see me taste my pussy.” Oh fuck. His tongue circles your clit and only his hands on your thighs keep you from arching up off of the pillows.
You feel like you’re melting under the pressure of white hot pleasure coursing through you, and all you can do is babble, trying your best to do as he said, keep your eyes open and on him. Bucky’s slate ocean eyes are locked on yours from between your thighs, hungry, satisfied noises escaping him as he devours you. Every time your lids begin to droop, Bucky pulls away, leaving you panting and moaning and painfully unsatisfied.
You feel like an overfull cup, pleasure trickling maddeningly from you as you try to hold it all in, writhing and moaning in his hold. And Bucky… Bucky’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, his gaze reverent and his touches gentle and insistent.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” He taunts, laving a trail of wet kisses on your inner thigh. “Tell me what you need.” The smirk on his face both enflames and enrages you and you whine.
“I n-need—fuck, Bucky—” He doesn’t let you finish, his tongue returning to your folds as your fingers thread themselves into his hair. You can’t get the words out, and every time you try, you feel a slow smile spreading across his mouth as he laps at you, doubling his efforts. You’d be irritated if you weren’t so desperate, and when he pulls away again, an agonized whine makes your cheeks heat when you realize it’s coming from you.
“Poor thing,” Bucky says lazily, dragging his teeth down your inner thigh and moaning softly in pleasure when you hiss. “Can’t even get it out, can you, sugar? Got you all twisted up, huh?” He coos, and leans up on his knees to loom over your trembling, slouched form. “Shirt off, now. The bra too, sugar.”
You hurry to comply with the order given in his low, gravelly baritone like your life depends on it. Your pussy throbs hungrily, your thighs sliding slickly, noisily together as you pull the t-shirt over your head, and unhook your bra. For a minute you’re unsure what to make of Bucky’s expression, but fresh heat blooms in your belly when he palms himself roughly though his jeans and begins tearing at his own clothes.
Its like he’s trying to touch you everywhere, with everything all at once. His hands are cupping and kneading and pinching, lips and tongue on yours, your breasts crushed against his chest. His cock pushes insistently against your belly, and your eyes flick down before widening. He’s so thick and leaky, the fat head of his cock pushing up through his foreskin. A thin strand of his own precum trails from the throbbing tip to the skin of your belly, and you bite your lip.
You reach down between you to wrap your hand around his throbbing length—an almost impossible feat—and begin to stroke, spreading precum down his shaft with your thumb, tugging at his balls before returning to task. Bucky’s head falls to your shoulder where he utters a muffled curse against your neck.
“Awh fuck, sugar,” he pants, nipping and sucking at your flesh. “So good, knew you would be—“ He bucks into your hand, his own closing around it for a moment before he pulls you away. “Lay down for me, sweetness. Lemme see my pretty pussy.” Your face heats. You’ve never been told to do anything like that before—hell, no one’s ever talked to you the way Bucky does, either, not like this. With Rich it had hurt, but Bucky you felt…
You laid on your back, your lip once again caught in your teeth as you circled your thighs with either arm, holding yourself open for him. Bucky’s hand moves slickly over his cock as he takes you in, thrusting into his own grip as he praises you. “So perfect, So pretty, sugar, where you been hidin’ her?” And then you don’t feel nervous anymore. Not about your looks, your hair, your scar—none of it matters now, in this moment, with him.
You watch him squeeze his cock one more time before he leans over you. He presses your knees to your chest, opening you as he slides against your folds. You’ve never felt so empty, nor so ready to be so fucking full it hurts.
“Say ah sugar,” Bucky’s breath hisses through his teeth as the head of his cock nudges against the slick, tight ring of muscle. You’d known it would be a tight fit, but the pleasurable stretch borders so nearly on pain that it brings tears to your eyes—but you’d rather die than tell him to stop now. It aches so sweet as he parts you, his own mouth open slightly and eyes locked greedily on yours as he watches you take him. “Fuck, she’s already milkin’ me so good, so fuckin’ good,” he groans, his hips stilling.
Your eyes roll as he bottoms out, and you dig your nails into the couch cushions underneath you as he slides out slow—only to force his way back in with a shamefully slick noise. “Fuck, I, I can’t, Bucky—” You’re babbling. You don’t know what you’re pleading for, more or less, but when he leans over you, cooing, a wail wrenches hoarsely from your throat.
“You can take it, can’t you sugar? It’s okay. It’s okay,” Bucky repeats the words, groaning as he picks up speed. His balls slap wetly against your thighs, soaked with your own juices. You don’t even realize you’re cumming till it’s happening, your release spurting out of you as your back bows and you clench down around him for all you’re worth. You soak his thighs and the couch beneath you as he fucks you through it. “Good girl. Fuck, gonna make you do that every goddamn day.”
His own movements become stilted, his hips stuttering against yours as the aftershocks of your orgasm milk one out of him. The back of the couch groans as his metal hand tightens on it, and his other hand holds you still as he curses. “Fuck, sugar, tell me I can fill this tight pussy up, please,” he’s practically begging, and you spare no thought as you nod furiously.
“P-please Buck,” your words are interrupted by his thrusts as he fucks into you hard. “W-wan’ you to f-fill me up, fuck, please—”
He throws his head back with a shout, and stills, warm ropes of cum streaming into you as his cock jerks and throbs. Bucky’s head falls forward and he lets out a low groan, keeping you right where he wants you with a firm grip as he empties himself into you. You stay like that for a few minutes, gulping down air in the too-hot room.
Bucky slides out of you slowly, and you hiss. He leans down to press his lips to your sweaty forehead, and you feel him smile against your skin. You do too, even though it aggravates the split on your bottom lip.
“You okay, sugar?” He asks hoarsely, grinning down at you.
A rant about Eren in the last chapter.
❗️Obviously there’s going to be spoilers.
Since I only have one friend that keeps up with aot manga who didn’t like the ending, I rant here.
Personally I loved the ending.
I think the peaceful nature of it was perfect. The chapter felt like a sigh of relief after a whole series about fighting and stress and worrying for their lives.
People are confused or angry about the fact that Eren turned “weak” and “his character completely changed” during the part he broke down over Mikasa and I just want to express how I viewed it.
First of all Eren’s “tough/cool/badass” version that we see after the time skip isn’t truly Eren. That’s not his personality that we all know. You can even see in the people making “what would the aot cast do if...” jokes on tiktok when they make two Eren’s, S1-3 Eren and S4 Eren. We know exactly what the real Eren is like from right up until season 4. He was impulsive, loud, angry, at times whiny and he never hid any of his emotions. But he was also passionate and we saw how much he cared for his friends and his goals.
Season 4 Eren was a complete personality flip, not because he grew in that direction but because he knew his future and what he had to do to carry out his goal. He had to push everyone away and shut off all of his emotions or else he wouldn’t have been able to do it. Because of this, this version of Eren didn’t even feel human, let alone like the Eren we knew.
Then Eren had to say his goodbyes and explain his plan to all his friends. This is where we start at the beginning of 139. For the first time in ages it feels like Eren is back, and he is heartbroken and exhausted. We even see Armin realising the extreme burden Eren had to carry “all alone.”
Eren is a 19 year old who’s childhood was stolen from him by the cruel world he lived in. He immediately became a soldier and never even got the chance to properly mature in his teenage years because he had so much responsibilities that were so much bigger than him. He had to deal with so much pain anyway even before he unlocked all the memories, and he even says himself that his thoughts became “incoherent.”
He is literally on the verge of a mental breakdown and when Armin brings up Mikasa, the person he loves most in the whole world and possibly would’ve ran away with if she told him she loved him, he finally snaps and shows what he’s really thinking.
Eren doesn’t want to die. Eren doesn’t want Mikasa to move on because all he wants is to live on with her. He hasn’t been able to live any sort of life his own way because he had responsibilities put on him since the day he was born.
Of course he was going to start whining about her. He’s human. Humans have selfish wants and he just wants this one thing he can never get. He sounds immature when he says it because he is immature. That whole part of their conversation honestly brings a smile to my face because of the childish nature of it.
He literally gave up his life and people are complaining because he whined a little bit to his best friend because he couldn’t be with the girl he loved. He is not “weak”, a “simp”, an “incel” or a “pussy” for this. He’s normal.
Eren Jaeger is still the best written character in AOT, and the fact we see his emotions just furthers that point for me.
Ending note: My apologies I’m not good at writing and this was not written to attack people who disliked the ending, everyone is entitled to their opinion. The only thing I will not accept is either side attacking people who don’t have the same opinions as them or attacking Hajime Isayama for how he ended his own story when he knows the characters the best.