#but hopefully I will feel even better tomorrow!!!! I live in hope!!!
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Lightning Ridge - Part One
A young Shifter wanders into a town crawling with hunters, Hendrix plans on laying low but when he catches wind of one particular hunter who is after the same Shifter that he’s been tracking himself, his curiosity gets the better of him. Offering to join the man on his quest he can only hope he can track down the dangerous shifter, saving the lives of innocents all the while keeping his secret hidden.
TW: mentions of murder/eating people, giant spiders, some swearing, mentions of death, mentions of drug use
G/t Shifter story, the idea came from a prompt I read a while back by @maplesyrupandgt. I’ve just come back to writing after recovering from an injury to my writing hand of all things, but I’m back and posting short stories and prompts to get me back in the swing of things. This will be a Four Part Story so keep an eye out for more to come!
Approx 3.2k words
Part One - Here
Part Two
The rain beat down hard on my shoulders and I knew I’d have to stop for the night, my eyes had caught sight of distant light coming from this direction and I had hoped to stumble across a small village in search for cheap accommodation. What I didn’t expect to find however was currently staring at my face menacingly, urging me to turn around and go back the way I’d come.
A sign was posted a few yards from the small village, and it read:
‘GIANT’S BEWARE’
And Another:
‘GIANT SLAYERS WITHIN’
The signs were large enough that any shifter would be able to read it in their Giant forms, what was unnecessary was the graphic image of a shifter having its head cut off by a human that was scrawled under the blocky letters above it.
“Charming” I said to myself.
It was known among shifters that most humans didn’t know that ‘Giants’ as they called us, were not in fact Giant’s at all but a special kind of shape shifter that could grow into their large forms at will, or sometimes against their will. For that reason, I deemed it safe to enter, no one here would know what I was, I’d just have to keep a low profile as always.
My boots trudged heavily through the muddy streets until I found a tavern, the sign out the front told me that there was availability inside, perfect. I pushed open the double wooden doors and was greeted with a waft of warm thick air filled with music, laughter and the smell of smoke and whiskey.
I inhaled deeply, soaking in the pleasant sensations, I’d get a drink once I’d secured a room for the night. I found a coat hanger near the entryway and placed my wet jacket onto it along with my fedora, feeling somewhat warmer and dryer I headed straight for the bar with my best panty dropping grin.
“A straight whisky darlin if you don’t mind?” I asked the young barmaid from behind the counter, she gave me a playful wink while pouring a fresh glass without even looking at it. She slid it across the polished counter to me and leaned over.
“What’s a pretty face like you doing here?” she asked, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder.
“Just passing through” I said casually. “I was hoping I might find some accommodations hereabouts.”
“Well, you need look no further, we have a few spare rooms tonight, just a single?” She asked hopefully, she briefly glanced around to see if I had come in with anyone else.
“Yeah, just a single.”
She handed me a piece of parchment to sign, a guest log, I scribbled a fake name in as I usually did and handed it back to her along with a generous payment, she gave me a set of keys and then asked. “Where are you headed to?”
“Oh no where in particular, I enjoy exploring, I’m a bit of a nomad.” I shrugged, taking another heavy slog of my drink. “Might head toward Lightening Ridge tomorrow.” I said offhandedly.
The man beside me at the bar, scoffed, I hadn’t even noticed him sit down until now, the barmaid and I both looked at him curiously, waiting for an explanation.
“You haven’t heard the rumors?” He asked, looking at us incredulously, his dark hair and darker complexion gave off a mysterious air in the already dim lighting of the tavern, his shaggy hair keeping his face in the shadows expertly.
“That’s Giant territory up that way.” He explained, turning to address us properly.
“Is that so?” I asked, I hadn’t heard of any territory being claimed as ‘Giants Territory’ ever, most of the time shifters mainly lived amongst humans. Of course, there were the rare kind who took advantage of their sheer strength and sought to harm and press their power over others.
One shifter in particular I could think of, we’d crossed paths a few times, I had actually been tracking him for a long time after hearing the first reports of a Giant terrorizing villages. I’d found him about a year ago, warning him of others who were hunting him, I tried to get through to him with reason, but he wasn’t interested in hearing any of it, in fact he very nearly killed me.
I’d kept my distance then but continued to track him for a short while until I lost his trail. It had been months since I’d had any firm leads and I wondered if my instinct taking me this far East had finally paid off. Perhaps he had taken over Lightening Ridge claiming it to be his own.
“What makes you think it’s Giant Territory?” I pressed further.
The young man finished off his drink and indicated that he would like another.
“I’ve been assigned to hunt a Giant living in that area, he’s set up camp there for a while now, many have gone in, but none have ever returned.” he said forebodingly wiggling his fingers for emphasis.
I shivered but not because of the stupid theatrics the man was displaying, but because in all likelihood Blade was killing if not eating the men who had entered ‘His’ Territory and the thought turned my gut to ice.
“Perhaps I could assist you.” I said resolve set, I was sure this was the shifter I’d been after, and I wasn’t going to let him get away again, especially knowing he was now murdering civilians.
The young man laughed loudly but I kept my expression neutral, and his laughter died down to a look of pure disbelief.
“You’re not joking? Are you?” He asked and I shook my head, he gave a heavy sigh. “Look I appreciate the offer, but I generally work alone, besides I don’t wanna get distracted looking after you when I’m trying to slay the beast.” He explained, all good points.
“I’m a hunter as well.” I lied. “I actually know of the beast your after, been on his tail for months, I think I could prove useful.”
He gave me a skeptical look; I was sure he was going to turn me down again and then I’d move to plan B which would be tailing this man in order to find Blade, but he held out a hand instead.
“You don’t get in my way.” He said sternly. “When we find the beast, it’s every man for himself, I wont risk my neck to save your ass if you do something stupid, you hear?”
I couldn’t help the smile edging onto my face, and I grasped his hand.
“Deal.” I said, so much for keeping a low profile.
“The names Ryder, I’ll meet you down here an hour before sunrise.” He said stiffly before rising from his chair, intending to head in for the night.
“Hendrix.” I answered honestly. “I’ll be here.” He gave me a curt nod before heading up the stairs to the Tavern’s rooms.
“Boy you do have a death wish.” The barmaid was shaking her head whilst cleaning a glass. I gave her a small shrug before heading up the stairs myself, and I wondered if the barmaid had noted that the name I put on the guest log, was not the name I’d given to Ryder. I supposed it didn’t matter, in all likely hood we’d leave before anyone else arose the next morning and I’d never see her again.
With that I hunkered down onto the small cot within my room and urged my racing thoughts to quieten, though regardless of my efforts my excitement at having finally got a lead was too much to give me a good night’s sleep and morning came all too quickly.
I rolled out of bed and stretched my aching limbs, sleeping on a different surface every night didn’t bode well for my back. I wandered to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face briefly glancing my disheveled appearance in the mirror. Ryder had been right to worry that I wouldn’t be useful in a fight, where he was toned, I was more malnourished with my poor muscles trying desperately to make themselves known.
My dark blue eyes popped against my freckle-stained face where my cheek and jaw bones jutted out. I wasn’t much of a fighter, more a survivalist, but I had been training since my last meeting with Blade and I was confident I’d be able to take him this time.
I brushed my fingers through my shoulder length sandy blonde hair and pushed away from the sink, I’d guessed it was about an hour before sunrise now and if I didn’t get a move on, Ryder would likely leave without me. I slung my satchel containing my meager belongings across my chest and headed down the stairs.
“Ah there he is, I was thinking you might have come to your senses overnight.” Ryder joked, putting on his own hat and jacket, ready to head out the door.
“Not a chance.” I smiled, and followed him outside, the air was fresh and held the sharp bite of winter closing in, I longed to be back inside the warm tavern, but I also wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity, especially if I could put an end to Blade’s rampage once and for all.
It was bad enough that he was putting the identity of our kind at risk but using his power to harm others was something I just couldn’t stand for.
I followed Ryder as we headed further east, following signs for Lightening Ridge, it was approximately 200kml away from SheerWood, the village we had just come from, and would be about a three or four day walk with minimal stops.
“So, tell me a bit about yourself Hendrix.” Ryder asked, the sun was beginning to rise, and we had walked in mostly comfortable silence until that point, I had gathered that he preferred not to grow attached to his travelling companion in case he died once we faced the shifter, his question caught me off guard.
“There’s not much to tell really.” I shrugged, preparing to spin off the usual story I give people. “I’m a nomad, I travel all over, got no family to hold me down so I’m just out exploring really.”
“Bullshit, you’ve been tailing a Giant for peats sake, there is more to you than just drifting with the wind.”
I bit my lip, I hadn’t really thought that one through, I’d forgotten that I’d told him I was a hunter back in the tavern.
“Well, you know I pick up a few hunting jobs here and there as a travel through, no big story, sorry to disappoint.” I covered quickly, it wasn’t an unheard-of story and totally credible if I do say so myself.
He didn’t seem convinced, but he also didn’t seem frustrated at all, like he understood that not everything was okay to be shared with a total stranger.
“Well, I suppose I’m much the same as you, grew up in a small town and as soon as I was able, I up and left, took up hunting jobs and make my living that way, I must say it’s not a bad way to see the country.” He glanced at the surrounding forest appreciatively.
“Do you have any family?” I asked trying to continue to keep the topic on him.
“Yeah, but I haven’t seen them in years, they live way out west in the desert, my mum, dad and sister, as far as I know Kailani is still there tending to the farm with them, farm life just wasn’t for me you know?”
I nodded, the lifestyle had never interested me either, come to think of it I wasn’t really sure what kind of lifestyle called to me. I supposed travelling and exploring the country was okay, but the thought of settling down somewhere was intriguing, even if it was an impossibility for me.
“What’s Kailani like?” I asked, my mind wandered to my own little sister, she’d been only five years old when I left home, when my abilities had made themselves known.
“She’s kind.” He said wistfully. “She was always very reserved, especially around our parents, she was never shy about giving me a hard time though.” He chuckled at a memory playing over in his mind. “Last I heard she was seeing a fella, she’d make a good wife, I just hope she’s happy.”
“I suppose that’s all any of us can ask for.” I said quietly, hoping the same was true about Ella.
A twig snapped to our left and we both paused, Ryder held up a scarred hand indicating for me to keep quiet. I scanned the area, but I couldn’t see much of anything off the trail, the forest on either side of us was dense with underbrush.
After a few moments I was going to tap Ryder on the shoulder and suggest we keep going, it was probably just an animal skirting too close to the trails, that’s when we heard a soft hiss disturb the silence around us. And that was all the warning we got before the large Arachnid made itself known, its many eyes flickering like embers in the dense forest and its large hairy legs moving faster than they should have been able to.
“Duck!” Ryder shouted, I was going to question why I would do such a thing, and to instead suggest we run but I crouched low to the ground anyway and narrowly missed a projectile of sticky silk that was shot toward us. Ryder had rolled out of the way and brandished his sword, crouching in a fighting stance and ready to leap at the thing.
I dug in my pockets for my dagger, and then realized it was woefully too small to fight a creature this large. Of course, normally when I encountered giant spiders in the forest, I was much bigger and would simply crush the creature with the heel of my boot, I’d never thought I needed a larger weapon when I was usually the largest creature around.
Of course I couldn’t grow right now, not with a hunter standing right there, I rolled as the creature made a move toward me and I narrowly avoided one of its sharp claw-like legs from spearing me through the middle. I watched as Ryder pounced on top of the thing, using his sword to strike at the Arachnids thick exoskeleton.
The spider seemed to pay him not mind, not finding his efforts of any concern at all and instead kept on moving toward me, the spider positioned itself over me and spat more sticky silk covering my left hand and pinning it to the ground. My breath hitched and I felt myself expand a few inches, breaking my hand free of the sticky substance.
I focused on stopping the growing energy within my body, reining it in for now. I wasn’t about to die at the mercy of an insect.
The spiders’ pincers sliced awfully close to my neck, and I jerked my body upwards pushing the heels of my boots into the spider’s face.
With only a second to make the most of my distraction I backpaddled on my hands and knees crawling under the spider and then out into the open. I dug in my bag frantically and pulled out what I hoped might do the trick, tearing off a part of my sleeve, I picked up a stick nearby and wrapped my shirt around it.
The spider had its eyes on me again and let out another hiss, I doused the cloth in whiskey and then struck a match, creating a large fire stick that I brandished at the spider. It threw its body backwards showing off its front legs in a display of aggression and in doing so threw Ryder from its back, he landed in a heap dropping his sword a short distance away from him.
With the flaming stick in one hand, I inched closer to Ryder’s sword, causing the spider to back up further.
“Ryder!” I shouted kicking the sword toward him, he got the hint grasped the sword and then stood directly underneath the beast. I backed up and as the spider came down Ryder expertly placed the sword between the spider’s thorax and abdomen and then it went limp, its body falling heavily on top of Ryder.
I concentrated and allowed myself to grow only a little, just enough so that I would be strong enough to push the beast off of Ryder, with a grunt of effort I rolled the spider off of him. Ryder lay there breathing heavily, his whole body covered in unidentifiable spider guck, I focused on my own breathing shrinking down to an acceptable height though my body protested.
“You look like hell.” I stated, holding out a hand for him. He grasped it with a slimy hand of his own and I cringed a little at the sickening feeling.
“I’d look a lot worse if it hadn’t of been for you.” He said completely awe struck, he walked over to reclaim his sword from the spider’s belly and then looked over at me, his hazel eyes flashing.
“That was some quick thinking back there.” He said, voice still laced with amazement. “I mean, after seeing you brandish a dagger of all things, I had my doubts, but… that was something else.”
I brushed it off, throwing the fire stick on the ground and stamping it out before putting my matches and flask back into my satchel.
“I work well under pressure.” I shrugged, and his eyebrows reached the sky.
“I’ll say.” He said clapping me on the back. “In any case, well done lad.”
I chuckled nervously and followed him as we continued down the trail. Thankful that I had made it out of my first encounter with an aggressive creature and lived to tell the tale, secret still intact.
“Ha, that’s funny…” He started, looking me up and down as I caught up walking briskly beside him.
“What’s funny? That I’ve only got a dagger to defend myself with? Yeah I know the truth is I lost-“
“No, not that.” He cut me off. “I just could have sworn I was taller than you.”
PART TWO
#gt#gianttiny#giant/tiny#g/t#giant#tiny#size shifter#sizedifference#gtangst#HendrixRyder#ShifterHendrix
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#I think I’m probably not feeling movement yet as it’s still a bit early#but I am feeling SOMETHING and I can only describe it as like#if something with a gentle vibration pattern were lodged in my insides#kinda fluttery#my SIL says be careful what you wish for it’s fun at first and then they’re just kicking you 24/7 for months#lol#anyway I definitely felt better as the day went on today#this morning I was still so sick I couldn’t even read I just lay around dozing#but tonight I feel marginally more human just with chest cold symptoms#night will be tough bc everything drains down the back of your throat ugh#but hopefully I will feel even better tomorrow!!!! I live in hope!!!#I also started slow horses and am into it so far
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My aunt is gonna be leaving til next friday tomorrow I think, hashtag winning
#rat rambles#Ill finally be able to actually leave my room lol#I might try sceduling my meds appointment tomorrow if Im feeling up to it#Im not super hopeful tho but hopefully sometime this week Ill get to it#Im not looking forward to mrs shitface and her family coming over still but Im trying not to think abt it too hard#I just hope the kids arent still on tiktok but ofc Im not optimistic abt it#theyre starting to become early teens at this point I think which feels freaky#I just hope theyre doing ok enough I worry abt them a lot#I dont even know if my ex friend lives with them anymore since theyre also an adult now#despite everything I do hope theyre out of there and doing better now#but lets not think abt that too much cause I do in fact need to sleep tonight lol#but yeah I still hate my aunt but it could be worse#again shes the most tollerable in her family it could have been any of the others#the only thing I appreciate them for is helping younger me develop its critical thining skills more#and also how to recognise when ppl dont actually care abt the reasons for believing things just the beliefs themselves#anyways if I could press a button thatd make me never have to see or hear of them again thered be no hesitation#everytime my mom compares me to my cousin it makes my skin crawl#cant believe I used to think he was cool as a kid he sucks so bad I hate him so much#Ill ahead and tag this as a vent just in case I thibk#rat vents
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Bucky x Reader - Cabin Fever
Content Warnings/Kinks: age gap (dbf!bucky), daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, nipple play, light spanking, masturbation, fingering, cum swallowing, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex
Cabin Fever
The weekend getaway ahead loomed before Y/n like a giant shadow as she drove on the snowy backroads. Was she glad to be spending the holidays at her father’s winter cabin, of course, but was she happy to see his mysterious (and massively sexy) best friend, Bucky Barnes, not so much. The pair had been colleagues for a little while now, since Bucky had transferred to her father’s firm, and Y/n had only met him once before at her Dad’s Fourth of July barbecue earlier in the year. Fireworks had immediately flown between them when they had, causing Y/n to lock down the blooming feeling of romance quickly before it could ruin everything from her father’s perspective of his “little girl” to her own sanity. If she thought for even one second about how much she liked Bucky Barnes and truly wanted Bucky Barnes, she feared she might just crash her car.
A call came through the speaker of her vehicle then, her father Steve’s familiar voice crackling through, “Y/n?”
“Dad?” She answered with a light laugh, “Where are you right now a dungeon? Your service is awful”
“Sweetheart the snowstorm is blocking the highway, I won’t make it up to the cabin until morning, I’m gonna stay at a motel tonight…” he said, his voice sad like he hated to miss out, “It’ll just be you and Bucky for the first night, hopefully, that won't be too much trouble”
“Why would that be any trouble Dad?” Y/n’s voice sounded strained, even to her.
Her father paused, “I know you don’t like him Y/n—no don’t interrupt me—it’s okay, you don’t have to, I just hope you two can get through the night together peacefully…it is the Holidays after all”
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, “Alright Dad, yeah, I’ll see you in the morning”
When she finally pulled up to the snow-trimmed cabin, she wasn’t surprised to see Bucky’s luxury car parked in one of the available driveway spots.
“Hi,” she greeted once she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the crisp December cold and her arms full of wrapped gifts.
“Let me help you with those” Bucky instantly offered, rushing over to her, their fingers brushing as he took some of the tissue-stuffed bags from her cramped hands and took them over to the tree.
His eyes flicked to hers and she could’ve sworn she saw his own cheeks tint slightly red above his scruffy beard.
“How was your drive?” He questioned after they’d arranged them, making easy conversation.
“Not too bad, well better than Dad’s anyway” she winced slightly before breaking the news, “He’s blocked by the storm, won’t be here until tomorrow morning…it’s just us tonight”
“You don’t seem so happy about that” Bucky cocked his head.
“Bucky…” she hesitated.
“I knew it” he breathed, almost to himself, “I knew you lik—“
“I need to take a work call” she blurted, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
Y/n practically skidded out of the living room and down the hall to the room she’d be staying in for the weekend, that she’d been staying in all her life. Her Dad had luckily switched out her old twin bed for a queen a couple of years ago but that didn’t erase the memories she had here. The colourful quilt laid over the sheets, the rocking chair in the corner. Each element of the space was a comfort to her, especially now as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest.
“Fuck” she groaned to herself.
~ an hour or two later ~
Snow was piling up outside as Y/n stewed in her bedroom, mulling over the situation she’d somehow found herself in. She liked Bucky and was stuck with him for the night but almost worse than that was the fact that he knew she liked him. Her groaning into her pillow was cut off by a small knock on her door.
“Yes?” She croaked.
“I’m making hot chocolate…” Bucky’s hesitant voice sounded through the wooden door, “I won’t bother you tonight if you don’t want but I just thought I’d ask”
With a sigh, she walked over the door, opening it to find Bucky in a slightly distressed t-shirt and light grey sweatpants that hugged him perfectly in all the right places. She gulped, startled as she realized she was literally eye-fucking him instead of answering his innocent question.
“Sure, I’d like some. Thank you”
Following him into the kitchen, she found her gaze trailed from his toned figure to the wintery scene outside. The snow was packed almost halfway up the window, no doubt blocking the front door too.
“Guess we’re stuck inside whether we like it or not” Y/n sighed with a small smile that she simply couldn’t help, causing Bucky to chuckle and shoot her a quizzical look.
“Yeah” he replied easily, after pouring the hot liquid into two cups, “Here”
“Thank you, Bucky”
“Oh, no problem” he replied and Y/n swore she saw him blush again.
They sipped on their hot chocolate, slowly draining the mugs in companionable silence. After a while, she attempted to break it.
“How’s work?” she tried, grimacing at how awkward the question sounded.
“You don’t really want to ask me about work Y/n” he stated plainly with a small sigh, the heated look in his eye deceivingly telling her exactly what he meant.
“Bucky…” she strained, setting her mug down.
“You keep saying my name but never in the way I’d like you to” he came toward her, his large frame instantly consuming the small space of the cabin’s kitchen, “I know you want me Y/n and I’m sure you can see I want you…”
Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, a small moan slipping out of her mouth at the sight of his hard cock in his cozy sweatpants.
“Stop worrying about what your Dad might do and kiss me” he challenged, putting it all out there. Her surprise must have been evident on her face because Bucky backed off immediately, “Unless that’s not what you want”
His sweet hesitance was all it took for Y/n to practically throw herself at him, cutting his words off with a passionate kiss that melted instantly from incredibly heated to perfectly warm like their mugs of steaming hot chocolate. As they kissed, with Y/n’s small groans and whines puncturing each break, Bucky’s hands felt up and down her sides making her skin tingle with need.
“Can I touch you?” He asked before gripping her hips harder and backing her toward the counter’s edge, “And please say I can taste you…”
“Yes, please Bucky, yes”
He lifted her easily onto the flat surface, shoving boxes of cereal and bags of marshmallows out of the way, until her ass was fully seated on the counter. She pushed herself up slightly so that he could slip off her pants and her panties, moaning as his cold hands slid down her thighs. He sunk to his knees before her, gazing up at her like she was a golden star on top of the Christmas Tree. His beard tickled her legs as he worked his way up, kissing her calf, the inside of her knee, and her inner thighs.
“Be good and spread your legs for me, yeah, let me see that pretty pussy” he hummed at the sight of her as she obeyed.
He came forward and kissed her clit gently before rubbing the sensitive area with a single finger. He paused, looking up at her from his spot between her thighs, admiring her flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She whined at the loss of contact.
“You know what I want Y/n?” he cocked his head, pulling away and sitting back on his tucked legs below her before saying in an encouraging yet dark tone, “I want to see you rub yourself for me…Go on”
She spit onto her fingers and began to rub her clit, using them to please herself. Her eyes met his as she caressed around and around her sensitivity, a quiet whimper slipping out of her lips at the sight of his darkening gaze focused all on her. The building feeling made her sigh and throw her head back, a dull thud sounding as it hit the upper cabinet behind her.
“What if I help you out a little bit huh?” Bucky groaned as if he couldn’t resist touching her.
“Yes” she moaned, “Bucky pleas—“
Her words were cut off by the feeling of his two longest fingers pressing at her wet hole. Her pussy practically gushed around him as he entered her, only pushing halfway. His teasing fingers grazed her insides, curling up inside of her.
“Keep rubbing your clit baby” he guided her hand back down.
She obeyed, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure they were creating for her together. His curling fingers, her fierce rubbing at her clit…she was overcome with intense sensation. Using her other hand she trailed up her chest, acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes following her motion, pinching her nipples in turn until they hardened into two stiff peaks.
“Good girl” he praised before asking, “You want my mouth?”
Her small nod was all he needed to push her hand off of her clit and lap harshly at it, never once removing his fingers from her hole. His attack on her pussy was intense and erotic to watch, the sight of him eating her out turning her on almost as much as the actual feelings. Y/n’s thighs caged his head between her legs, her knees moving to sit behind his head, feet resting on his back as he pleased her with his rough, wet tongue.
“Oh fuck” she whispered, her hands gripping his curls tightly as he found the perfect spot.
“There?” he questioned, his words muffled as he sucked her clit, lapping at it.
“Yes, fucking yes”
He chuckled, cool air making her shiver before continuing, licking at the same spot, not right on her clit but slightly to the side, a spot that was nearly as sensitive and pleasurable, until her body gave out and she burst all over his tongue. His large hands supported her thighs from below, hooking his arms over them, pulling her pussy to his mouth as she rode out the waves of her release.
“Good girl, good fucking girl” he grumbled.
Moving quicker than a flash, he lifted her up and took her out of the kitchen, leading them all the way to her bedroom. As they moved through the house, Y/n attacked his neck, wet sloppy kisses peppering his tanned skin. He pushed the door to her room open with his side, being careful not to hurt her, before throwing her down on the bed. He stood at the edge, towering over her. Bending over her, his beard tickled her cheek as he continued his trail of kisses on her neck. With gentle pecks he made his way to her jaw, down her to her chest, satisfying the need of her nipples.
“Flip around for me doll” he commanded then, praising her when she complied, “Yeah that’s it, good girl”
SMACK. A small spank on her ass cheek made her whimper, the feeling hurting slightly but in the best way.
“You want it?” Bucky asked, confirming her consent as he pumped himself behind her.
“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and full of need.
“Yes, who?” His tone instantly darkened.
“Yes Daddy” she whispered like a secret.
SMACK.
“Say it like you mean it Y/n” he chuckled roughly, “Like the good little slut I know you are”
“Yes Dadd—“
Her words were cut off by the loud moan that escaped her lips as Bucky pushed into her, pressing the first few inches of him into her wet pussy. She gripped him tightly as her body adjusted to the sensation. He pressed and pressed and pressed until finally, he bottomed out within her.
“Fuck you fit me so well”
Bucky’s cock hit a spot deep within her that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her back arched, shoving her ass back into him, making him hit even further inside. His grin was feral as she bounced onto him, her instant rocking movements pleasuring them both.
“So good Y/n,” he praised, grunting, “Yeah, push back on me baby…Fuck this ass is perfect”
SMACK.
The pain heated her skin as did the feeling of his eyes on her. She wasn’t even looking at him but she could physically feel the weight of his dark gaze. Grinding back onto him she whimpered and whined, her pussy tightening around him more and more by the second.
Y/n yelped as she was flipped easily over onto her back. Before she could even get her bearings, Bucky’s thumb was instantly on her clit, rubbing that spot that made her see stars. If she thought she was clenching around him before she surely was now. Between Bucky thrusting in and out of her and his fingers on her sensitive clit, her senses were going into overdrive.
“Fuck” she whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, “You’re fucking me so good”
Burying his head in the crook of her neck, Bucky moaned roughly, his gruff noises making her wetter and wetter. She writhed beneath him, her body responding to every way he was pleasing her. As she approached her orgasm though, he switched his pace, thrusting slowly, powerfully, and deeply, causing her to tense up around his hard cock. She gripped him so tightly she thought she might just push him out of her by accident.
“So tight for me—yes, taking every fucking inch like a good little slut”
“Yes, Daddy, yes” she moaned as he sucked at her skin.
“You’ve been driving me crazy for so long” he confessed, whispering in her ear, “Ever since—fuck— that fucking Fourth of July party, I’ve wanted to feel you, to be in you just like this…”
Her eyes widened at his reveal but she was so overwhelmed by the feeling that she could barely speak, she simply whined in response, meeting his assessing gaze as she arched beneath him. The feeling struck her body then, causing her to jerk forward. Bucky held her hips, continuing to thrust in and out of her with long strokes, fucking her completely through her orgasm.
“Yeah that’s it baby, cum for me”
Y/n gripped his broad shoulders, holding him to her chest as he thrust through her orgasm, bringing on his own. He ground into her as he chased his own release, her hot pussy finally sending him over the edge.
“Fuck” she swore, catching her breath as Bucky rolled off of her.
“Fuck is right” he chuckled.
She could swear she saw a tint of red on his scruffy cheeks.
“You really liked me since then? Since the Fourth of July?”
“Yes,” he admitted, bowing his head.
She rolled back onto him, planting a sweet kiss on his jaw, then his cheek, then finally on his perfect pout.
“Talk about fireworks huh?” She joked, making them both shake with laughter.
#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#smut#marvel#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#dbf!bucky
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Platonic Yandere!Batman x gn!Reader
Purge AU. Info on au.
You receive your official government letter announcing a yandere's claim on you in tomorrow's Purge. Accompanying it are five crimson letters from the yanderes themselves.
~600 words
Dear [Name],
I want to take this first encounter to assuage your fears—you are in no danger.
The fear you must be feeling might be the most dreadful you’ve ever experienced, and I’ll forever regret it. While the monotonous bureaucracy of the Purge is taxing on everyone, it’s a necessary evil… Inside this letter, you’ll receive what brief explanation I can give you and, hopefully, comfort you in some capacity.
[Name], I’m your father, and this letter is my official and legal introduction. In the next 24 hours, I and your siblings will bring you home.
You don’t know this yet, but we met on a moonless evening many months ago. You were walking alone, trying to leave the emptying streets before Gotham’s evening crowd took hold of the city. I worried for you and decided to keep a close eye until you were home safely, but something about your demeanor kept my attention. How polite and unassuming, yet quick to navigate the streets you were. You drifted through the evening like a wayward spirit, eventually finding yourself in my heart and soul.
That chance encounter sent us spiraling down a destined path, one in which I never anticipated would lead to here. I never realized the grim darkness I had been living in until I experienced your light, and now, the day before our first meeting as father and child, the promise of eternal contentedness just beyond these 24 hours is almost too much to bear.
Your brothers and sisters are equally ecstatic. You’ll never be bored for a moment in your life moving forward, as the halls of our home are always thrum with the echoes of banter and excitement. I can’t promise it will be an easy life free from any sorrows, but your new family already loves you so, so dearly.
In time, I’m confident that you, too, will reflect on this event as the start of a better life.
However perfect your joining our family seems, I find myself asking how it came to this. How did I discover a soul as kind and lovely as yours? Despite all my failures and shortcomings, the world still crossed our paths and sent the merger of our lives into motion.
As a servant of justice, I’ve dedicated my life to protecting what is moral and just. I’ve spent decades refining my values and priorities, yet this has often left me at fragile crossroads between myself and my children.
I’m flawed. I’m imperfect. I don’t think I’ll ever be worthy of being your father. I need you to know these things before we meet, to save yourself from the inevitable misfortune that will strike us. Yet know this: there is not a force in this world that will keep me from you. I love you more than I love humanity, more than the Earth itself. I would defy the laws that govern the universe if it meant seeing you happy.
The world is dangerous and unpredictable. However inadequate I feel at protecting your light, I know you’re significantly more likely to fade from existence outside of my care.
To receive a crimson letter from the city a day before the Purge might be one of your darkest nightmares, and for that I’m sorry. With my heart, soul, and all my love for you, I promise to rectify the misery you and your biological family are experiencing. Please take comfort in the fact that you will be the most beloved and cherished person in the world.
I will give you everything. For your family’s sake, I hope they can rest easier with this knowledge.
Please remain put until we arrive.
See you soon.
Love,
Dad
Note...
I love this self-hating old man. Damian's is finished and will be up soon!
For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!
#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batman#yandere x reader#batfam x reader#purge au#yandere purge#yandere letter
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She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere
Jeon Heejin - Male Reader
Word Count - 7.5k (2.2K)
Tags: Rough Sex, Coarse Language and only trace amounts of sand... hopefully.
A/N: Welcome to Sandstorm 2: Electric Boogaloo, aka the reboot but not really since the original didn't happen. Which unfortunately means you're stuck with me.
All joke's aside, this started as a anniversary present for Flint, which looking at the date... is pretty fucking late lol.
Anyway, super big thanks to @nsfwflint for helping my rookie ass out and just being a cool dude all-round.
God, it is hot, a thought you trace as you find yourself nestled in the dark, dingy corner of Chalmun's Cantina. Even over the roar of crashing glasses and seedy elements, it always feels like your home away from home.
It helps that the music is decent.
Still, you can pick out a familiar guttural bark through the swells of liquor and hazy smoke.
"Shouldn't you be at work, kid?"
Chalmun.
His fingers flex and tug at his grey handlebar mustache... Can Wookiees even have mustaches? A lie pulls at the edge of your lips, tempting as it might be, but you know better.
"I-Uh, yeah," your teeth chew at the inside of your cheek. "Yeah, I should be."
"Do I need to remind you of the deal?"
You roll your eyes, something you hope he doesn't quite see or understand. "I get to freeload as much as I want as long as I help out Heejin."
"Which you are..."
"Not doing," a resigned sigh whispers past your lips. "I get it, I get it, it's just really hot in the garage."
Not a complete lie.
There's a flicker of an annoyed snarl that plays across his features, a hint of worry lingers in your gut. A deep inhale sets him at ease, a smile tickles across his lips.
"One would think you're not used to the twin suns of Tatooine," you feel his firm grip against your shoulder, raw and brutishly animalistic. "Odd, considering you've lived here your whole life."
A thumb bounces against his lip almost playfully in thought.
"Or perhaps something else is making it hard to focus and unbearably hot?"
He is right, there is no point doing it. Fight as you must, your brain lingers where it shouldn't. Her taut, sweat-soaked abs, the swell of her hips barely hidden by her jumpsuit.
You feel the greeting of cold glass against your skin, a bottle of liquor offered to your hand.
"Maybe this will help with the heat."
-
Despite your claims, the garage provides a welcome respite from familiar heats. The squelch of sand gives way to rigid metal.
"Is that you, Gogglehead?" Her voice echoes from deeper within, no doubt immersed in your work.
Pop the bottle, take a swig, cool off.
Focus up if you can.
The liquor saunters through every nerve, syrupy and sweet.
Kowakian rum.
Maybe it will help, if only to make you regret your existence tomorrow.
"Yeah, stopped off at Chalmun's for a drink," your feet dot around a corner, seeking her familiar tortuous figure. "Do you want some?"
You catch the faintest outline of her voice, her feet dangling out of the chassis, a tangled mess of wires and cords, the wiggle of her ass taunts you with an enticing sway.
Her back arches back with the swivel of her gaze. A furrowed crease lingers on her brow.
"I can't seem to get the pod to start."
You press two firm fingers into your temple, as it seems you now have two reasons to drink today.
Your tongue tastes the edge of your teeth with a stinging annoyance. "That's because I removed the thrust coil."
There's a flare of annoyance dotting each step towards you, the dance of a scoff against her lips. "I thought I told you the thrust coil was fine."
Her pointed finger prods at your chest, still, it's hard to ignore the slight hint of cleavage in her tube top.
Wait, were those your goggles?
The briefest touch sparks in your brain with a subtle intoxication, a want for more.
Her voice lingers in the air, the low huskiness is captivating even in spite of her irritated parlance.
A slow release of air is all you can manage.
Focus.
"Yeah, technically. Except it wasn't fitted properly for the cooling pump."
All this talk of thrusts and pumps isn't helping.
"Which, as you know, would make the engine blow."
A stressed huff is all that escapes her lips, fingers dancing across her temples as her eyes crawl shut.
There's a slightly forced smile that splinters across her lips, "What were you asking about again?"
Her lips soften as her eyes adjust over you, reinforced with a proper smile.
The glass bottle almost seems foreign and forgotten at that moment, "Uh, Kowakian Rum."
Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, her lips roil and dance with the idea before an exasperated sigh joins the fray with knotted eyebrows like tangled cablework.
"I'd love some, but I can't."
Huh?
"Excuse me, what?" The words sound more surprised and scornful than you anticipated, dancing in the simmering heat. You offer an arched eyebrow as a consolation. "Could you repeat that?"
Her lips flatten, curving into the tiniest frown.
"I said I'd love to, but I can't."
She stresses the word once again, you catch the flash of an almost cringe-induced grimace.
There's an almost troubled weight to her brow. A far cry from the Heejin you knew with a liquor tab nine pages deep.
You take another swig, almost habitual as the bottle rests in your hand.
"Do I even want to know?"
There's the lingering whispers of embarrassment that echo through her body onto her features, a dejected huff.
"Well, the Boonta Eve Classic is soon."
Your eyebrows knit together in a handshake of confusion.
"Yeah, next week. What's that got to do with today?"
There's the briefest flicker of her tongue against her lips before her teeth bite taut.
Her fingers pinch at the bridge of her nose as she paces.
"It's dumb, but my old coach would make us cut out all our vices before a race."
You offer her an understanding nod before taking another swig.
More for you.
Sweet rum trickles through your lips as a question cradles at the edge of your brow, before placing the bottle against the ground.
"So, like boxers before a fight?"
It would explain why you've been able to find moments away from her at the cantina.
"Yeah, exactly the same."
It's habitual the way your hands work and coast through wires and machinery, a habit you picked up from your father.
"Is that why you've been a bit…" Your hands struggle through the mess wrought by Heejin's handiwork, locked seals and knotted wires.
"Of a bitch?" She scoffs, a scowl burns across her face.
"Not the words I would've used," your eyes dance across the sandy brown ceiling. "Passionate, maybe?"
You catch the edge of a laugh, hidden by the roll of her eyes. Her laughter ripples with a melodic spring that dances and bounces against the tension that once hung thick in the air.
Still, there's something else that crinkles against your skin, a scintillating static that teases thoughts best left unsaid.
They're unprofessional, to say the least.
Yet, your eyes linger against Heejin, leaving the task at hand forgotten and abandoned. You swear she feels it too, if only for a second.
"Passionate, huh?" There's a flash of amusement that twinkles in her eyes. It twists slowly under your gaze before her eyes narrow, her voice drops lower with its husky richness, almost tauntingly. "Chalmun said you had a mouth on you."
There's something about the way that word rolls off her tongue, the coy dance as she moves closer.
Yet, she says nothing of it, of the deeper insinuation that lingers against your brain. Instead, her hands move with practiced precision, deftly manipulating wires and connectors, untangling the mess she'd left you with.
It's a practice you're used to with other clients. Why should you undo their missteps? Yet, there's a sensual grace to her movements, a fluidity that reminds you that she isn't a slouch in the mechanic department.
Yet, your brain lingers on the other applications such grace could be used for.
She pauses, taken by a sudden thought. There's the flicker of a smirk as she turns to you. "Being a little rough, or even bold, is more my style."
You lean against the nearby workbench, watching her continue to work in silence for a moment. You quickly find the rum in your hand once again, the cool liquid soothes your parched throat, but it does nothing for the simmering heat that lingers in your mind.
Your eyes never leave her taunting sweat-soaked figure, the lingering taste of rum on your tongue only intensifies your imagination and longing.
The question bites at your lips before you can even stop it.
"So, cutting out vices, huh?" You finally respond, your voice rich and huskier than you intended, betraying the thoughts that lingered. "Does that mean no late-night indulgences of any kind?"
Heejin looks up at you, her gaze meeting yours, a flicker of intrigue glimmering in her eyes. She pauses for a brief moment, as if weighing her response, her lips curving into a knowing smile.
"Well, let's just say that focus and discipline are essential before a race," she says, her voice lower, carrying a sensual edge that carves a shiver down your spine. "But let's just say all this talk of pumps and thrust isn't helping me with my frustrations."
The innuendo in her words hangs heavy in the air, weaving a web of temptation that becomes harder to resist. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the air between you charged with an undeniable chemistry.
Your gaze lingers on her as she continues working, her body moving with a seductive grace that seems to draw you in closer. The image of her sweat-soaked jumpsuit clings to her curves, amplifying the allure she exudes. The desire to reach out and touch her becomes almost overwhelming, but you fight to maintain composure.
As you approach her, your voice is laced with a mixture of desire and restraint. "Tell you what, when we win, I'll buy you as many drinks as you want."
Heejin's eyes darken slightly, her fingers pausing momentarily in their task. A smile plays at the edge of her lips, tossing and turning. She leans closer to you, her breath caressing your ear as she whispers, "Don't let your mouth write checks you can't cash, Gogglehead."
Her fingers play at your collar, a twinkling mischievous glint in her eye.
The suggestive implication hangs in the air, leaving your senses reeling. It takes all your self-control to keep your composure as the sexual tension between you and Heejin becomes nearly palpable.
With a knowing smile, you take a step back, forcing yourself to break away from the electrifying energy that crackles between you. "Let's focus up. We can't win if the pod isn't working in the first place."
Heejin's eyes follow your movement, a mix of longing and frustration flickering in her gaze. She bites her lip, as it falters, pushed back by the need for victory or perhaps something else?
A twitch of a smile lingers.
-
Tension hangs sticky and thick like the sweat that clings desperately to your overalls, there’s an anxious pace to your movements. Each wire, each connector, and every intricate detail weigh heavily on your mind and body, with ache and strain.
One small misstep spells defeat... or perhaps even worse.
As soon as the pod leaves the garage, it’s out of your hand. Heejin is no slouch, unless something catastrophically wrong happens... She can handle it.
Something you need to remind yourself of.
Yet, even as the days quickly blur together, there is a... weird nonchalance to her. That isn't the right word.
Calm and collected.
Unnerving.
At least compared to the itchy stressed friction you have grown accustomed to, though perhaps it is just her storied experience kicking in.
Even if she has been out of the saddle for a bit.
Still, it does nothing to settle your own worries.
“You know someone would think you’re the one racing Gogglehead,” her voice dances with a teasing playfulness. Even as you scan over the engine for the umpteenth time, you can practically see the smirk that plays on her soft lips—
Focus up.
“I-” How do you say you worry? That maybe it’s not so bad working with someone who isn’t useless an- “I just don’t want you blaming me if you lose.”
It's cocky the way her teeth flare, as her eyes look you up and down. A scoff echoes from her lips, the thought simply unimaginable. "And here I was thinking you were worrying about me."
Her fingers play at the collar of your jumpsuit, and it's hard to ignore the heat that builds with her touch. The way electricity hums under your skin as she steps closer, pushing into your space with an ease she only knows.
"Plus..." she whispers, and you feel each syllable brush against your skin, it’s light yet tempting all the same, pushing you with coaxing waves towards the edge.
The worry is almost an afterthought as her hand crests your hip. Her voice dips to a sultry, soft, husky whisper. "I have something of a good luck charm with me."
It creeps in your chest, the sparks that dance with her touch. You know better, as her lips peak with a smile, taunting and teasing. Still, it's hard to ignore the magic hidden in a magician devious yet charismatic trickery.
You hate the part of your brain that accepts she might be referring to you. Her taunts and jabs, a way to ease the tension that builds under her skin without indulgence.
It stings, as you bite your tongue, fighting the pull she has. You roll your eyes, step back, hand grasping a cloth to wipe away sweat and grease that mar your skin.
It's easier to breathe without her held in your gaze, your mind clears against her temptation. Still, you can't help but feel the heat that lingers thick in the air with her mere presence.
"Yeah, and what's this good luck charm?" you bite the bait, it's unwitting and against your character as your eyes stray back towards her plunging back into the thick heat.
Her lips brighten with that beautiful smile that pulls you deep and tugs at your core.
You almost miss when she is insufferable in a different way.
Still, there's a weird softness that flickers briefly on her lips, burning into her eyes for haunting microseconds. Your brain begs to understand what it means, if there is more under the surface.
But it quickly fades, a nameless speck of sand lost in an ocean.
She pulls out a familiar object, your eyebrows knit together—when did she?
"Really? My goggles?"
Your keepsake, your namesake, has been an afterthought against the heated hours in the garage. Too focused on the pod as a way to ignore the temptations that linger on the horizon.
She cocks her head to the side, the flare of her teeth with a scrunch of her nose tells you everything. Your reaction is priceless to her. To be fair, you completely forget about them in the ebb and flow of your conversation last week.
Still, there's a flit of actual happiness that plays on her lips, curving into a brief yet genuine smile.
You remember the hazy conversations from weeks long past, held in the drunken allure of the Cantina. A confession of vulnerability on your part, held together with liquor and a rare interest in you.
Your father's goggles.
Your good luck charm.
Yet, it means nothing to her, should mean nothing to her. The contradictions to your thoughts and assumptions linger on the sparks that twinkle in her eyes.
Her words are fuel to the fire.
"Of course~" her voice saunters with a teasing edge., flickering against the embers of something more. "A reminder of all the free drinks you'll owe me."
Her words poke and prod, flecked with a flirtatious taunt. Yet there's something that hums deep at the base of her voice, it twists with words unspoken.
Perhaps you're putting too much value on yourself in her eyes?
Yet it bounces and lodges in your brain, her own hushed worry.
The idea that you'd be with her, at least in spirit or a reminder of who to win for.
You catch the hitch of a smirk that scatters across her lips, the wind-up for another remark or jab.
"Plus, I can't wait to see all your winnings disappear on my tab."
A groan leaves your lips before you can stave it off, perhaps you are just her mechanic. A damn good one, mind you. Hell, you'd dare to say one of the best.
At least on Tatooine.
"Yeah, yeah." Your hands are already smoothing out the last details with the Pod, closing hatches and double-checking connectors. Your hands stray and drift, placing your goggles on her head. "Just make sure to bring those back, okay?"
Again, there's that flare of softness that beckons at the edge of her eyes as she looks up at you.
A weird tenderness clings in the air, it's vapid and calming. An entirely different beast to the charged and heated air you often share.
"I'd hate to come up with a different nickname for you after all."
-
The aftermath is a storm of its own kind, a mess of sweltering heat in Mos Espa's Grand Arena, charged with tense excitement.
It's violent and sudden, like a crash of thunder to the chest. Your human eyes aren't able to keep up with the sudden burst of sand that trails through the arena.
The roar of the crowd, akin to a gunshot breaking through the air, is the only evidence the race is over.
There's a hum of worry that lingers in your lungs, shoulders tense with an anxious weight. Your hand grips at Chalmun's shoulder, his fur jitters underneath your touch.
A roar tears through the air, a simple guttural howl, animalistic and excited.
Heejin would've probably asked you what he said.
A cheer of excitement, elation... but also smugness? You watch as his eyes dart towards the Hutt Clan's private box, the lavish adornments are lost on you as you catch a pained, scorned look echo across the Hutt's face.
You don't need to know Huttese to know someone is going to get fired.
Chalmun's energy is infectious as he grips your shoulders, lost in the throes of victory he shakes you violently.
Pain twitches through you as the world becomes a blur, yet even with the pain, your brain is focused only on her, the small speck in the distance putting on a show.
Flared waves of sand make it all the harder to pick her out through her victory laps.
Still, you can imagine her smile all the same.
-
It's unnerving, the chill bustle of the night air that saunters through Mos Eisley. Even through the thick haze of laughter, celebrations, and intoxication.
Chalmun's is your home away from home, normally you'd be in the thick of merriment, a sly attempt at free drinks. But something is missing... and you're hesitant to acknowledge it.
Have you been so caught up in the insinuation, the allure of her words that you've actually fallen for them?
...No, you're just tired.
Probably.
Still, you owe yourself a drink at the very least, a chance to join the revelry. After all, it is a rare thing for the Cantina to be filled with fewer of the more rambunctious and unsavory types you've known all your life.
You wave at Ackmena, two fingers a signal for your usual. She smiles, moving with a comforting warmth. If only she could work day shifts instead of Wuher.
Your drink slides over, punctuated with a wink.
"Thank-" the drink is gone in a flash, snapped up in a blur and returned with a slam.
Empty.
Some of the more usual behavior you're used to. A scowl licks at your teeth, your fist clenches tensed with an eagerness to make amends.
"You mind telling me why?" You ask, twisting around prepared to deck the dumbas-
Heejin or at the very least a beautiful woman in her shape and mannerism. The flare of teeth that takes pleasure in your reaction gives it away.
But fuck is she breath-taking, you mean no slight towards her usual appearance. If anything, there is a unique allure to the messy sweat-soaked and grease-smattered appearance that you've grown used to.
Replaced, draped in a luxurious fur coat that almost mocks Chalmun's usual patrons if it didn't enhance her already enrapturing allure. Her black crop top taunts you with the flare of her abs and soft curves aided by her black shorts and leather boots.
Her skin is no longer a teasing insinuation in your unfocused moments, rather a full-fledged suggestion for desire to latch on to, tooth and claw.
A girl out on the prowl through Coruscant's tempestuous nightlife, if you didn't know any better.
Her grin creases into a smirk, because oh god, you're staring and she knows.
It's hard not to, even with the flare of obnoxious confidence that glitters in her eyes.
Any words you have die in your throat, assailed by her charm.
Her tongue flits across her lips with a seductive grace, how would it feel against you in every sense of the word?
"If I'm not mistaken, someone promised me drinks." It's tantalizing the way she pulls herself close to you, lips hovering against your ear. "I intend to get my fill."
It's paradoxical the way you feel underdressed and yet overdressed for your desires. Heat prickles at the nape of your neck, your body's insinuation for how much you stick out, your jumpsuit mere rags in her company.
You knew you didn't, hoped you didn't. Yet it's hard to focus on logic when she lingers so close to you, her short hair tickling your skin.
Her proximity teeters on the edge of electric and intoxicating.
You're thankful your mind lingers on a memory, brief and fluttering, a passing conversation to ease the heat that settles in your core.
"Why the short hair?" An attempt at idle chit-chat before liquor loosened you up to conversation.
"My coach suggested it, said it'd get in the way." An oddly straightforward answer for the racer, you didn't know better back then.
You still remember the touch of her fingers as she leant closer, eyes focused, her voice dropping low to that tauntingly low husky whisper. "When fighting, racing, or fucking."
The grip of her hand pulls you back, calloused yet soft. You can feel the whisper of a smile, her breath tickling your cheek.
"Show me how you do it," her voice saunters like honey dripping with seductive sweetness, you cling to her words against the overwhelming bustle of a busy cantina. "Teach me."
It's hard to ignore the heat that builds, you know she's talking about slipping an order to Ackmena. But you can't help stiffen under the insinuation that haunts and tempts you.
You can practically see the pleasure that would quiver across her lips, tempting her to aid you.
A dry swallow is all you can manage to fight off the thought, a temporary fix.
She follows your guiding touch, moving with an almost uncharacteristic soft tentativeness. "Just like that?"
You swear you catch her breath hitch when your hand clasps against hers, pushing her fingers into place with unintended roughness.
A rare moment of catching her flat-footed, yet the moment drifts away like sand between your fingers before you can pounce.
A firm hand binds your wrists together.
Tork, Chalmun's bouncer.
"Boss needs the both of you in his office, pronto," his voice booms, despite his overwhelming stature and size, a small dumb animalistic fleck of your brain is tempted with the idea of a brawl.
Thankfully, Heejin moves first, slipping her hand out of his grip with spry ease. "We'll be there right away."
She smiles, the soft disarming smile you almost don't see anymore. Earning her a soft nod from the pale blue bouncer.
She shuffles slightly, straightening out her clothes.
"Wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good day for him."
Tork only grunts in response before guiding you both through labyrinthine sandstone backrooms, the rooms twist and turn with each step before you find yourself in front of familiar doors.
Familiar is a generous term, only having seen them once when you were a kid. Your heart prickles with anxiety at the thought.
You're surprised when the door opens softly, his familiar brown fur gesturing for you to come inside.
You inch forward, your blood thrumming in your veins. You take in the dimly lit office, a timeless recreation from your youth. Your gaze falls upon the wall of blasters and you can feel their powerful presence.
You can still practically taste the freshly heated air, cooked with blaster fire. A fragment that haunts you from years long since past.
Still you push through, nudging Heejin away from the small inviting coffee table opposite his desk, the plush decorative rug stained with years old coffee hints at its sinister nature.
You didn’t want to see another victim, let alone Heejin of all people.
She falls in line with your touch, trusting your guidance. As Chalmun moves with a frenetic pace, a giddiness that keeps him moving.
Though you doubt Heejin could see the nuances when it comes to the Wookie.
"I wish I'd been alerted to your presence sooner," he smiles through his guttural barks. "My friends should only drink the finest liquor."
He rummages through cabinets and containers with a rough ferocity.
You roll your eyes, a smile twists across your lips. "Here I was thinking it was something bad. You can't get Tork to tell us you want to reward us?"
You catch a sigh of relief from Heejin at your words.
"Please, boy, where is the fun in that?" He beams a well-placed smile as he produces two familiar bottles. "I deserve some fun despite your efforts."
"I doubt you brought us here just for two bottles of Kowakian rum... even for a little bit of fun on your end."
"Of course not, make yourself at home, away from the riff-raff and her adoring fans." Mischief dances in his eyes as he steps closer, twisting the flare of a smirk against his lips. "I have a Sabacc game to get to, an attempt by the slugs to regain their honor."
"Alright, boss." Your eyebrows twitch, unsure of what he's playing at or for. He moves with confidence, shuffling past you towards the door.
There's a moment of hesitance as he turns back to you for the briefest second. "Just don't make too much of a mess."
"What was that about?" She asks, head tilting to the side with less than subtle curiosity. The Wookie becomes nothing but an afterthought, a fading ember in your isolated presence with Heejin.
"Oh," you turn to her, biting your lip. "He just wanted us to make ourselves comfortable and enjoy his private stock."
Even in the dim light born from the single illumination panel behind the desk, you can pick out the way her eyes narrow. Her lips purse, teasing on the edge of a question. "What about that last thing? It seemed pointed at you."
Her voice hums with something foreign, at least to your interactions.
Worry?... No, that doesn't seem right. Her nature, her confidence forbids the very idea. No, it's something else that dances tauntingly at the tip of your tongue.
"Relax, it was nothing, Heej," the nickname rolls off your tongue before you can even stop it, you watch as it lingers in the air, moving with a sauntering slowness. Your brain jostles with awkward apologies that die in your thoughts before finally it lands.
Square in her chest, judging from the swell of her smile.
"You don't have to call me that, you know?" there's a warmth that's strange on her lips, a flicker of softness as her eyes linger on you. "It's nice, though."
Her feet shuffle, shifting under the weight of vulnerability. She develops a sudden interest in everything, except for you. Unable to build up the courage to look you in the eye.
To speak plainly too, apparently. A rare silence fills the void in conversation.
A smile bubbles to your lips, you should cut her some slack, offer her a life ring. "We were gonna drink, weren't we?"
Your words cobble together the version of Heejin you're used to, fluttering eyelashes and teasing smirks.
She preens under your gaze with a sultry swipe of her tongue across her lips. Each movement is enticing, weighed heavy with calculated seduction.
The sway of her ass buzzes with a tantalizing edge, pushing into your space with a graceful twirl. "Yes, we were."
Your baser instincts beg for permission, to indulge her in her attempts. To feel your hands carve into her taut, firm ass as you take her.
It's hard to ignore the stiffening desire that stirs in your loins, her hand traces your chest pushing you back into the hardwood desk.
A smirk blooms across her lips, dancing with the often-times obnoxious confidence you'd grown to love to hate. It's hard to resist the tug, the control she has over you.
The only defense, the only respite you can manage is found in a bottle of Kowakian rum.
Syrupy sweet indulgence.
Her hand brushes over your bottle-held grasp, coaxing it out of your grasp into the embrace of her lips. She's less than subtle, as the liquor spills from her lips, trickling in enticing rivulets down her chin.
A knowing wink, pulls you deeper as she continues to imbibe; desperate to get her fill. Awe and admiration bubbles underneath your skin as she throws back the bottle and all of its contents.
The bottle slams against the desk, a devilish grin burns across her lips. She looks up at you, cheeks flushed with liquor that lingers on her every breath.
Her tongue plays against her lips, her eyes sparkle with a flash of insight, a realization.
Her teeth tense against her bottom lip, as the air cackles with tension, heavy and sweltering.
A flash of resignation, as words leave her lips.
"So," her voice drips with a hungry, ravenous need that you didn't need to hear, you could already feel it. The soft ministration of her hand against your clothed cock. "Are we gonna fuck or what?"
Gone is the pretense, replaced with a desperate gnawing need for her fill. It's intoxicating the way her lips quiver and crack against raw primal hunger.
Your hands crest her hair, soft and delicate as a wry smirk bounces across her lips. Her eyes settle on yours, beaming with anticipation and an unmistakable craving that eagerly awaits your command.
Her head tilts back, her silky locks spilling around her face in waves of delight.
A gasp shatters with a moan as your calloused hand tugs her hair, pulling her closer into your embrace. Her breath hitches and floats on the edge of another moan as you press against her contours.
You take your time savoring each sensation, the heat searing through the air as though it were tangible. Your mouth burns against her neck, leaving bruises that smolder in your wake. Each cinder pushes a smile against her, each ember pulls a purr into her throat.
Your cock is an afterthought against the hazy pleasure that twists and churns in the back of your skull. It aches and yearns, an animalistic need to consume her in your roaring flames, reduce her to an ash that knows only your name.
It's instinctual, the way your hands wander and rove over her body, teasing and taunting in equal measure as you whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
"You weren't kidding," a smirk hangs on your lips between flame-licked bruises. You lock your fingers through her hair, hungrily drawing her tight, clawing a soft whimper from her throat. Your hand trickles down her back with playful fingertips, haunting the edge of her hip before finally carving into her ass with a voracious slap. "Rough is definitely your style."
A flash of shock sparks against her features, eyes wide and mouth jar before it shifts into a hungry, carnal smile as her eyes latch tight to yours. She had no escape, but you doubt she'd want to.
You catch the turn of gears, a witty comeback in the making. Yet, you're too focused on the way her supple, taut ass feels against your hand. Your fingers teeter on the edges of her hips, creeping along the divot of her abs, plucking at the button of her short with a teasing flare.
Her words are shaky, barely discernible against the soft moans that escape her lips, blooming into a whiney drawn out fuck, as your fingers snake through her shorts and past her underwear.
Holy fuck is she wet.
A desperate quiver ripples across her lips strengthened with each passionate caress, her throat hums begging for more as your fingers slide into her slick heat, a flooded river of anticipation.
Your mouth clashes with hers, hot and frenzied as the air sizzles with passion. Her tongue crashes against yours, a carnal dance that leaves you gasping for more.
A tug of her hair earns a breathy honeyed moan as a smile twists across her lips, cocky and headstrong. Slowly it fades shifting with the guidance of your pleasure soaked fingers bucking against her sweet spot.
Any thoughts, any words jumble and die in her throat, replaced with a whispered please. Ecstasy ignites like a wildfire across her face tightening into a low whine as you hold her just shy of the precipice.
Her hips buck with a desperate plea, begging for release in the hazy mist of pleasure.
Yet, something fights within her at the edge of her lips, a small defiant fragmented shard.
Her hand caresses your cock, no longer a forgotten afterthought in your pursuit. She purrs as she strokes at your clothed length.
"I think someone deserves some attention," her voice dripping with seduction, a husky warmth. A veiled attempt to regain some semblance of control. "Let's see if it was worth all the anticipation~"
Her movements are smooth and focused, still you notice the weak wobble of her knees as she peels away your jumpsuit by the zip. Her fingers dance with an electric spark-filled tension slowly creeping to your boxers.
It's intoxicating the way her tongue flits across her lips as she drops to her knees. Raw hunger bounces across her lips, quivering in anticipation.
Her hands tremble and shake, a small crack in her veneer of confidence.
Her eyes linger and smolder burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow you whole. Her lips part with the slightest breath, her teeth clench tight against her bottom lip, her gaze unflinching as she slowly and deliberately peels away your boxers.
It's delicious and succulent, the surprise that echoes across her features, punctuated with a gasp as your cock smacks against her soft, dewy lips like a thunderclap of passion. The shock sends ripples all the way across her face as it curves around the bridge of her nose and plunges off the edge of her forehead.
A warm hum blooms in her throat, cresting into a pleasure drunk giggle as she nuzzles against your shaft.
"Oh fuck," she whispers her eyes dance along your shaft, the glint of held back fantasies glimmer in her eyes. Her hand pumps and twists across your length, extraditing a moan from your lips with her eagerness. Her breath hitches with a hungry excitement, tickling your shaft in between lovingly pressed kisses. "You should've told me, you had such a... fat cock."
She continues, lost in her ministrations, slowly and tantalizingly drawing out your pleasure as you groan against her soft touch. Yet, you can pluck out the fine line edge she balances on, the sound of slick wetness indulged as she pants heavily slapping her face with your cock. "You could've had me anyway you wanted you know?"
It's a feverish, lavish dance of her tongue around your cock, strung together with a primal and wild urgency, as if she would die if she didn't taste you against her tongue. Her lathered spit slowly christens every inch of your shaft, marking it as her territory.
Her gaze is a siren’s call, inviting you to dive into her depths. Her lips akin to silk as they tease the head of your cock
Her hands guide your own cresting through her hair, a silent encouragement to ravage her without restraint.
The sensation is inescapable, as your throbbing cock slipping past her dewy soft lips, plunging into her depths. You can feel the hum of a depraved smile as she gags and chokes against the sheer length of your cock, unable to fully take you.
It's a sputtering cough that echoes from her lips, hazed with watery eyes as she clutches for air.
"Come on, I can take it," there's a flare of a scowl against her teeth. "Don't be a bitch."
She asked for it.
Your hands tighten in her hair as she sucks and pulls in surprise, sending waves of pleasure shooting to your core. She looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes, smoldering with desire. Her fingers grip tightly around your shaft as her muscles contract around you - a gentle reminder that she will never let you go.
You push further into her until you bottom out, her nose pressed to your navel.
You're fully engulfed in heat and wetness as she begins to moan around you - softly at first, but quickly growing louder with each stroke that bulges at her throat.
Her eyes water, brim and swell against the ravaging pressure. She hums, smiles under your assault as the cascade begins, her own twisted badge of pride.
The sensation is overwhelming; a perfect balance of tightness and wetness as she sucks and gags around you.
The echoing sound of ministrations against her own slick heated desire becomes your guiding rhythm, the tempo only increasing with each gag and choke.
Her knees quiver and tremble as you ravage her throat without restraint, a mere tool in the pursuit of your own pleasure.
It only takes one final thrust, deep and hard to send her careening over the edge into a carnal pleasure-filled abyss. She screams into your lap, her body twitching in clear pleasure as wave after wave of her orgasmic bliss crashes against your shaft.
It's a desperate fight to stay afloat, to ignore the call to unload deep within her throat against the crashing waves of her orgasm, but you're after a sweeter prize.
"Holy fuck," she gasps, a hazy smile etched into her lips, she swipes at the stray messy strands of spit. "That was hot as fuck."
You found it hard to disagree, "You're..."
"Kind of a slut?" she adds, a dulcet whisper against your ear. It's hard to ignore the brimming smile.
"I was gonna say intense."
It's a soft genuine chuckle that saunters through the air. "Thanks, I'll take it."
Her eyes drift over you, her warm gaze a caress. She licks her lips and smirks as she looks at your cock. "A shame you didn't cum, the thought of you plastering my face or swallowing all your cum was so fucking hot."
Her delicate fingers entwined around your cock, massaging it with a gentle rhythm as your heart pounded in anticipation. Her eyes roamed yours before she spoke, her voice husky and full of desire. "I can't wait to feel this inside me."
All it takes is one swift move, as you grip her waist pulling her so intoxicatingly close to you, pressing her hips against the edge of the desk. A surprised giggle bounces from her lips as you pull her shorts and panties down her legs. The air crackles with electricity, you catch her rugged eagerness, as her clothes flutter and splay around Chalmun's office.
She's barely able to pull herself up the edge of the Chalmun's desk as your thick cock brushes against her drenched folds. You can see the sparks of pleasure as her eyes flutter shut, arms snaking around you, pulling you closer into her electric gravity.
Her legs shudder and quake as you push deep into her, her breath frozen in her throat as you push harder and harder, deeper and deeper into her.
The desk creaks-you swear it splinters-as you feel her cunt finally take the full might of your cock. It's in her wordless, breathless moments as her eyes roll back with
half-lidded desire, that you actually feel it, even through the torrential storm that is her she's-
"-So fucking tight."
Her fingers dig into your shoulders as her nails scrape against your skin, any words she has die, caught in clutched needy gasps. But you can see it in the flickering fire in her eyes, the twist of her devilish smile.
Make a mess, break the desk.
It's a feverish dance, the slow build to a crescendo that threatens to drown you in pure bliss. Each stroke punctuated with a resounding slap, a jiggle of her chest pushing against you as she moans in a guttural tone.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she chants softly, her eyes glued to your cock, a needy slut to your pleasure. Your hand grips tight against her locks pulling her into a messy torrid kiss.
She nuzzles into you, her lips are sloppy against yours as you plunge further and further. Her muscles clench tight against you, a fire burning with each pull, each thrust and soft moan. Her nails bite into your shoulders, drawing blood as she pants heavily against your lips.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants against your lips.
A strangled moan escapes her throat, the intensity of your thrusts increasing as the pressure builds within you, threatening to burst forth. She cries out with each thrust, the sound of your cock diving into her depths, a melody to her ears.
Her lips part with the slightest of breaths, her tongue darts across her bottom lip, a silent invitation to dive deeper. The feeling is visceral as she clenches every inch of her muscles tight against you, a searing rapture that threatens to swallow you whole.
The feeling is overwhelming; a soft and wet embrace as you plunge deep into her. The tightness of her walls around you, as they pulse and constrict around you.
She's barely holding onto her consciousness, her eyes glued to the way her breasts shake and jiggle as you fuck her senseless.
You find it hard to resist the incessant call to cum, burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow your mind whole. Her moans fall into a steady rhythm as you plunge into her harder and harder.
"Cum," her voice a husky whisper, yet tinged with something more, a tempered unexpected softness. It's real and vibrant even in the haze of pleasure. "I want to feel you."
It's needy and desperate.
The feeling is inescapable, the sensation of her tight and wet around you. She screams in pleasure, a shrill moan that pierces the air around her.
The desperation in her eyes and on her lips as you're pressed together was unmistakable; a clash of teeth and tongue full of longing. You feel the urgent desire that emanates from her, radiating into your lungs with each clawed breath.
It was more than just sex at that moment, as her lips nip at yours and her legs clutch and locked around your waist. You can feel the raw emotion radiating off of her, a feral passion that throbs through your veins.
You can feel every part of her body tremble with pleasure as each kiss deepens further.
Your hands caress her neck, exploring every inch of her skin as she shudders beneath you. You feel like you're losing control, giving into the sensations coursing through both your bodies.
The sounds of pleasure that escape her lips become heavy and desperate as the sensation builds inside of you both, an explosion of heat that threatens to consume you.
She claws at your back, gasping for air between breaths as each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through both your bodies.
Her hips grind against yours, pushing herself further and further towards the brink of insanity. Her voice catches in her throat as she cries out for more, begging for release from the overwhelming sensation within.
"Cum for me," she whispers into your ear, her voice dripping with lust, tarnished by desperate and undeniable need.
It's all you need.
A crash of pleasure rocks your core, electric shocks race up and down your spine as you finish inside of her, launching rope after feverish rope into her depths. A moan catches in her throat, hitching with each decadent spurt as she truly gets her fill.
"Wow," she opens her misty eyes, her lips curled into a hazy smile. "That was... intense."
The warm air around you is a heavy blanket that settles around you both, a contented and satiated silence that settles against her skin.
"Hey," she nudges you, languid in the afterglow. Still, you catch embers of a teasing smile. "I have a question."
"Yeah?"
"Is this our first date?"
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All These Years [Part 13: "Breaking the News"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut
Word Count: 7.6k
a/n: This installment is quite painful and there is still no comfort to be had in this series quite yet, friends. But hey, it's the long anticipated moment where Matt learns the truth, right? And you get a Matt POV at the end. Plus this one is LONG. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks (some of you I cannot tag so please check your settings!)
Shifting back and forth on your feet outside of Foggy’s apartment, you anxiously waited for him to answer the door. Both of your now sweat-slicked hands were firmly gripping the six pack of beer you’d picked up on your way over, hoping it would help ease the sting of what you were here to tell him. You were beyond terrified of his reaction and just hoping he would take the news as well as you figured he could.
You could hear Foggy’s muffled voice as he made his way through the apartment, the door swinging open a few moments later. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably in knots as Foggy’s beaming face came into view. You felt terrible that he had no idea why you’d asked to stop by tonight, and judging by the look on his face, he clearly thought it was just a friendly social visit.
“Hey!” he greeted brightly, saying your name. “Come on in!”
“Hey, Fog,” you greeted him back nervously.
Stepping inside, you awkwardly slipped out of your shoes as Foggy closed the door behind you. The rapidly beating thrum of your heart felt loud to your own ears as you sent him a tight smile. Foggy’s attention dropped down to the beer in your hands, his eyes further lighting up.
“Oh man, I am so glad you actually brought some beer because you know what?” he began, making his way towards the worn gray couch in his living room. “This whole week has been rough. Like an absolute shit show at the office. I could’ve started drinking hours ago.”
Hesitantly you followed after Foggy, making your way over towards his couch and watching as he sank down onto a cushion. Feeling even worse after hearing that his week had been difficult already, you awkwardly set the beer on his coffee table before sliding out two bottles and handing one to him. He thanked you before twisting off the cap, tossing it next to the six pack on the coffee table. Feeling slightly sick to your stomach, you opened your beer before settling onto the couch. Immediately you took a long pull from the bottle, swallowing the alcohol down and hoping it would quickly help dull your nerves. Except when you lowered the bottle to your lap, spotting Foggy across from you on the couch rubbing at his temples, your nerves only increased.
“So uh, bad week?” you asked lamely.
Foggy nodded enthusiastically. “That’s an understatement,” he replied. “We almost lost the trial yesterday. The whole thing was a massive headache. Matt has been a little too distracted this week with who the hell knows what, but he was off. Like way off this week. He was nothing like his usual self.”
“Oh,” you whispered, not wanting to think about Matt right now.
“But anyway, it’s Friday tomorrow and things should hopefully be looking up,” Foggy concluded, the smile returning to his face. “I’m going to try to remain optimistic that tomorrow will be better. But what about you? How’s work been going for you? And how’re things with your man? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”
Gripping the bottle of beer a little tighter in your hands, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself for the news you were about to break.
“Well, Adam and I…broke up,” you admitted slowly.
Foggy’s eyes grew wide immediately, one hand lowering the beer from his mouth before he could even take a drink. He was leaning towards you on the couch, his mouth open in shock. You watched as he struggled to take a moment to process the information.
“You–you guys broke up? When?” Foggy asked.
Biting your lip, you looked away. Your cheeks were burning from the guilt at having kept Foggy in the dark for so long, but you hadn’t been ready to tell Foggy the full truth about why you’d broken up and that you were possibly moving. And there hadn’t really been a way to explain things away to him without lying in front of Matt–which you knew Matt would’ve called you out on.
“It’s been a few months now,” you told him.
“What?” he asked in shock.
Foggy was quickly sliding over to you on the couch, reaching over to set his beer on the coffee table before his focus fully turned on you. You could already feel the tears forming when you saw that damn sympathetic look on his face again.
“Dude, hey, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me you and Adam broke up?” he questioned. “You tell me everything . What happened?”
“He wanted more from me than I could give him,” you confessed, lips trembling. “Because I–I'm still…”
Foggy’s face instantly fell, knowing exactly what you meant without you even needing to finish your sentence. He nodded slowly.
“Matt?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Matt.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Foggy said, one of his hands landing comfortingly on your shoulder. “I really thought maybe Adam had been the one to get you past your feelings for him. You both seemed so happy together.”
“We were, to an extent,” you told him. “Until Erica came into the picture and reminded me that I can’t just push my feelings for Matt under a rug.”
“So that’s why you broke up then?” Foggy asked. “Because you still have feelings for Matt?”
“Well,” you began slowly, your mouth suddenly going dry, “there was…something else.”
Foggy straightened on the couch instantly, his eyes narrowing curiously back at you. You felt his hand tighten on your shoulder just a bit.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Did he–was he…?”
“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, he wasn’t cheating. But I–I was offered a new position at work a few days before we broke up.”
You swore Foggy’s entire body had frozen on the couch. It didn’t even look like he was breathing anymore.
“It uh, it has a huge pay increase–almost double my current salary,” you continued, your stomach nervously churning as you did. “But it’s–it’s out in L.A. And Adam didn’t want to leave his job and his family here. Which is why he mentioned things like moving in together and–and possibly marriage down the road. He wanted me to stay for him. But I couldn’t see those things with him. And I tried really hard to, but I just–just couldn’t. So we broke up. And then afterwards I’d been…considering the job offer.”
Foggy’s lips thinned out, tears shining noticeably in his own eyes as he sat so still beside you. You could feel your own tears ready to fall at the way he was looking at you.
“You're taking it, aren't you?” he whispered. “You’re taking the job?”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded. “Yeah, Fog,” you answered. “I accepted it. They offered it months ago and I’d been waiting until it was a sure thing before I told you.”
Foggy sniffled loudly, his hand releasing your shoulder to wipe the heel of it across his watery eyes. “So you’ve known for a while?” he asked.
“Like I said, it wasn’t a sure thing,” you told him. “My company was still trying to get their new office set up out there for the past couple of months. But I officially accepted the offer at the beginning of this week. I uh, I’m flying out this weekend to find an apartment, but I’ll be back on Monday for work.”
“Fuck,” Foggy swore, turning and slumping defeatedly back into the the couch. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
Licking your lips nervously, your attention dropped down to the beer in your lap. Your fingers were drumming along the brown bottle as you heard Foggy curse again. Slowly you tried to inhale a deep breath, struggling to keep your resolve. You knew this was going to be difficult, but you also knew you needed to do this.
“Why are you leaving?” Foggy asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.
“I told you,” you began, “I was offered a position that–”
“No,” he said, cutting you off firmly and sitting upright again, the movement and tone catching your eye. “No, that’s not why you’re leaving. It’s because of this thing with Matt, isn’t it? You’re leaving because of him.”
Stunned, your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to form a sentence. Were you that transparent?
“Fog, I–”
“You’re running away, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Admit it. You’re running away from him.”
“Foggy, I can’t do this anymore,” you confessed, a few tears finally spilling over. “Yes, okay? Yes, I’m running away from Matt. Because I love him and he knows it, but what he feels for me isn’t the same. It’ll never be the same.”
You brushed a hand absently over your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had slipped out. Fuck, you were so sick of crying.
“I love him, Fog,” you said, voice breaking on his name. “And it hurts so fucking bad. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To be in love with your best friend for years ?”
Tears were openly streaming down Foggy’s face now as he listened to you. He kept dabbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, but more tears kept coming in their stead. The sight of him crying was only further causing more of your own tears to fall.
“I see him all of the time, Foggy,” you continued, emotion thick in your voice. “It hurts to even hug him knowing it means something else to me than it does to him. And it’s like I swear I feel something everytime we do. It’s like this–this warm, happy, safe feeling washes over me. Like I could just–just stay there forever. But then I have to remind myself he’s just my friend and it hurts .” Sniffling loudly, you tried to keep your voice even as the words continued to pour out of you. “Now he’s with Erica. And you’ve seen him with her, Fog. He’s got that lovesick puppy look around her all of the time. He’s been crazy about her for months. It’s like Elektra all over again, except Erica isn’t necessarily bad for him. Their relationship, despite how busy Erica always is, is one that I could see becoming something more, you know?”
“Marriage?” Foggy asked.
Grimacing, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “And if it’s not her, it’s going to be someone else. Someone who isn’t me. And Fog, I–I can’t–can’t–”
The words got stuck in your throat, and no matter how hard you tried, it was a choked sob that fell out of you instead. Foggy was quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a hug. Burying your face into his shoulder, you openly wept at the thought of having to witness Matt get married to someone else. It had been painful for years to see him sleep around with countless women at Columbia, even worse when he’d been so stuck on Elektra with how awful she was for him. And then it stung watching him date and sleep around even more after that. But seeing him in a relationship now that might be eventually going towards something serious down the road? That had been the line you had to draw.
“I can’t be here to see that,” you choked out, shaking your head against Foggy’s shoulder as the tears continued to fall from your eyes. “It would–would kill me, Fog. I can’t–can’t see him marry someone else. I can’t do it. I can’t .”
“But why do you have to go?” Foggy whispered. “Why do you have to leave me, too?”
“Because Matt will always be here,” you answered softly. “And as long as he’s within reach, I’ll always be reaching for him.”
Pulling away from Foggy, you wiped roughly at your eyes. His arms released you slowly, coming to wipe at his own eyes that were still watering.
“I’m sorry, Fog,” you whispered. “But you can still come visit. So can Karen. And–and maybe someday I’ll come back and visit you here. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”
“Have you told Matt?” Foggy asked.
The question felt like a punch to the gut. You winced at the mention of Matt, that ache in your chest painfully growing. You wondered if anything would ever get rid of it.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I haven’t.”
“How long until you leave?” Foggy asked.
Your focus dropped down to the beer in your lap. Fingers fidgeting nervously with the label, you refused to look at Foggy when you spoke next.
“About three more weeks,” you said.
“Shit,” he breathed out. “So when–when are you going to tell him?”
Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you shook your head. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t even know how to look him in the face and tell him this. I don’t know how I’m going to–” you paused, eyes snapping shut, “–to say goodbye to him.”
“He deserves to know,” Foggy pointed out. “He deserves a chance to say goodbye to you.”
“I know,” you breathed out. “I know.”
Turning the corner, your eyes landed on the red neon sign for Josie’s bar. Your arms wrapped anxiously around yourself, hugging your body tight as you made your way down the sidewalk towards it, maneuvering through the evening foot traffic on the sidewalk.
Tonight was the night. You'd asked Fog and Matt to come out with you to Josie’s. It would be just the three of you this evening, no significant others. Just like old times.
And you were going to tell Matt you were moving in three days.
You'd admittedly cried a lot back at your apartment while you'd gotten ready to come out. Just thinking about what you were going to say to Matt and knowing how soon you would be saying goodbye had gotten you instantly emotional. And you knew Matt was going to be upset with you tonight. You were telling him just days before you left. It hadn’t been intentional, you’d certainly tried to tell him over the weeks before, but you had kept putting it off because you'd been too much of a coward, too afraid to tell him so many other times before. But now that your flight out of New York City was literally days away, you knew you didn’t have a choice. You couldn’t keep putting it off.
Opening the door to Josie’s and stepping inside, you were instantly hit with that musty, moldy smell that always seemed to mix with the scent of alcohol and sweat here. It wasn’t much cooler inside than it was outside tonight you noticed, your eyes scanning the bar for a sign of Matt and Foggy. You spotted them by a table at the far back of the bar, your eyes connecting to Foggy’s almost instantly. He sent you a sad smile, waving you over. You tried your best not to look miserable in return as you approached the table.
“You finally made it,” Matt said, shooting you a wide grin. “Was wondering what was taking you so long.”
The smile you tried to return him probably looked pained, but you knew despite his senses he couldn’t quite tell that. For a moment you stood there standing beside the table, your eyes scanning Matt over where he sat. That handsome, charming smile was still spread wide across his face. You noticed his beard was a bit darker and thicker than usual beneath his red glasses tonight, and he was dressed in his usual white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his muscular forearms on display as he rested his arms on the table.
The sight of him alone felt like a stab to the heart. Blinking hard, you forced yourself to look away as you situated yourself in the chair across the table from him. Turning, you focused your attention on Foggy to the left of you instead. You needed a moment to try to collect yourself.
“Yeah,” you said, finally responding to Matt. “I was running a little late, sorry. I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long.”
“Just a few minutes,” Matt replied. “Not a big deal. I grabbed you a beer, hope that’s alright.”
He slid a bottle across the table towards you, your eyes following the movement of it. For some reason the little act of thoughtfulness had your heart squirming in your chest. It was just a beer, after all. It didn’t mean anything. It’s not like you all hadn’t bought drinks for each other many times in the past.
“Thanks,” you muttered.
A silence fell across the three of you when Matt drew his own beer to his lips for a drink. Your eyes landed on Foggy, noticing him shooting you a pointed look. He’d been on your ass about telling Matt you were leaving for weeks now, and it was apparent on his face that he was mentally screaming at you to rip the bandaid off and just tell him already.
“So uh, how’s work been?” you asked.
Foggy’s eyes narrowed at you and you quickly glanced down at the table, ignoring the sharp look on his face. You didn’t want to just sit down and drop the news in Matt’s lap the moment you showed up. You, at the very least, needed a minute to prepare yourself.
“Busy,” Foggy replied simply. “How’s work been for you?”
Nervously your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. You knew what he was doing. It felt like your throat was closing up at just the thought of saying ‘I’m moving in three days’ to Matt.
“Good,” you answered.
Foggy’s eyes only narrowed further at you. Unable to stand the weight of his glare, you glanced across the table to Matt. But that had proven to be a terrible idea because he was focused straight on you, his head tilted a bit to the side. His dark brows had furrowed together, slightly drawing down below the red lenses he wore.
You knew that look. Ever since you’d learned that Matt was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and you’d been informed about his heightened senses, you’d come to recognize when Matt was picking up on something. Zeroed in on it. And right now he was very focused on you. That alone had your pulse increasing, wondering how much he was picking up on– what he was picking up on.
“You doing alright?” Matt asked you.
Clearing your throat, your attention dropped back to the table. Saying yes was an obvious lie. Saying no would leave you telling Matt the truth right here and now and you weren’t sure the words were going to come out yet. You weren’t sure you were ready for the way he’d surely be upset with you at the news.
“I’m just stressed,” you said–not technically a lie.
There was a brief pause. You could feel both men staring at you and you felt yourself shrinking further in on yourself in response.
“Stressed about what?” Matt pressed.
“Work,” you answered simply.
“What about work?” Foggy pushed.
One of your hands grabbed onto your beer bottle, squeezing it tight in your fist. You felt like you were going to explode, your heart pounding hard in your chest.
“Why don’t we talk about work a little later?” you suggested, teeth gritting together.
Your focus flew up to Foggy, the pair of you locking eyes. There was a very disappointed expression currently resting on his face. For some reason when you saw his mouth open, your own did, too. But instead of blurting the truth to Matt, you found yourself blurting something almost as bad before Foggy could speak.
“How’re Marci and Erica?”
You cringed the moment the question left you, realizing you’d asked Matt to indulge you with details about his relationship. That was not what you wanted. Even Foggy’s expression softened at your question, aware of your mistake.
“Marci’s been busy with work, but doing good,” Foggy answered.
“Great,” you replied stiffly.
Grinding your teeth together, you turned your attention to Matt. There was no backing out of enduring this tidbit about Erica because you’d asked for it. You were just going to have to force the strained smile to stay on your lips as you waited for Matt to stab you in the heart yet again.
“Uh, she’s doing well,” Matt answered slowly, his focus seeming to shift between you and Foggy for a moment.
“Fantastic,” you stated, the strained smile still on your mouth.
You drew your beer up to your lips for another drink, feeling like you desperately needed it. When Matt suddenly spoke again, you hadn’t been expecting it.
“Actually,” he said, his tone a little off, “there was something I was hoping to talk to you both about. Since it’s been quite some time since we’ve been together like this. Just the three of us. I figured I’d tell you both something that’s been on my mind recently.”
Swallowing down your beer, you slowly lowered the bottle to the table. Your attention shifted to Foggy, one of your brows raising curiously. He made a face, lightly shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in return. He looked just as confused as you were.
“It’s about Erica,” Matt began.
You sucked in a breath, holding it as your eyes flew back to Matt and you waited in anticipation. Had they broken up? Had Matt finally told her the truth about himself and she couldn’t handle it? Was she…cheating on him?
“Look, I know it’s not been quite seven months yet, but I’ve been thinking about just taking the plunge,” Matt continued on, his words tumbling out rapidly. “She’s really great. And she’s an intelligent, driven, successful woman. And we get along so well. I–I’ve found myself thinking about marriage lately.”
It took your brain a few seconds to process what Matt had just said, but when you did, your jaw literally dropped. He hadn’t been with Erica for quite seven months yet, but he was already thinking about marrying her?
Your breath literally caught in your throat as you sat there in absolute shock. You couldn’t breathe. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Foggy’s head instantly whip in your direction. His eyes were wide, his mouth also hanging open in complete surprise.
“Guys?” Matt said nervously. “Care to say something?”
He wanted to marry Erica.
He wanted to marry her .
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her .
Your right hand flew up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt roughly in your fingers. There was a sharp pain shooting straight through your heart in a way you’d never felt before. Were you about to have a panic attack? A heart attack maybe? Was that what this was?
You might actually throw up.
“That’s uh…” Foggy said, voice trailing off as he tried to search for words.
“A good thing?” Matt suggested.
You could hear your pulse hammering in your own ears as you tried to inhale a shaky breath. Fuck, why was it so hard to breathe? Across the table, Matt focused back on you, saying your name with a note of concern.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked slowly. “You don’t sound…alright.”
He just fucking told you he wanted to marry Erica when he knew you were in love with him. Of course you weren’t fucking alright . You were the farthest goddamn thing from alright .
“Does she know?” you breathed out.
“Well…no,” Matt answered slowly. “I haven’t bought up the topic quite yet but I–”
“Does she know who you really are?” you pressed, cutting him off as your hand clutched your chest tighter. “ Does she know ?”
You swore you saw his eyes narrow behind his glasses in the dim light of Josie’s. His lips pressed firmly together in what appeared to be a hint of irritation.
“No,” he answered, his tone darkening a bit. “She doesn’t know that yet, but I don’t think it will be a problem at the moment. She’s mentioned always wanting a long engagement, so I’d have plenty of time to figure it out with her. I don’t think it would be an issue, and until then, she’d want to probably stay at her place near her work. Which means I could keep doing what I’ve been doing. We’d just have to figure that all out later. We’d make it work.”
A bitter laugh fell out of you before you could stop it. Didn’t he hear how stupid that sounded? What the hell sort of hold did she have on him? Why was he so stuck on her? He deserved so much better than being with someone who didn’t know him. He deserved someone who saw all of him and wanted him still. Who loved him for the man he was, crazy and frustrating as he could be sometimes.
Someone like you.
But of course you were never good enough. He'd rather propose to a woman that didn't know he could smell what she'd eaten for lunch when she saw him after work. That had no idea he was risking his life most nights to save the people in the part of the city he loved so dearly.
“She will never move to Hell’s Kitchen with how much she dislikes it, and you’ll never leave it,” you stated sharply, anger quickly growing within you at how ridiculous this whole situation was beginning to sound. “How does that work, Matthew?”
Matt’s brows entirely pulled together behind his lenses, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. “Well I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” he shot back, a sharper edge to his tone. “You’re not part of this relationship.”
You gaped at him, momentarily stunned and hurt. A second later your eyes darted over to Foggy, seeing him sitting there in absolute mortification at whatever was happening between you and Matt. He looked like a deer in the headlights.
“Well, Matthew ,” you said bitterly, focusing back on him across the table and not even bothering to hide your anger at this point. What did it matter anymore? You were leaving in three days anyway. “I think it’s a bit absurd that you want to propose to a woman who doesn’t even know you, when you have absolutely no fucking idea where you both would even live together, after not quite seven months of dating. Doesn’t sound like you thought more than three seconds about this whole thing.”
“Excuse me?” he snapped, his dark brows shooting up onto his forehead. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think it sounds like you’re clinging to her like you clung to Elektra,” you snapped. “For whatever fucking reason you did.”
Matt sat back in his chair, a look of surprise mingled with hurt written on his face. Part of you felt bad for that low blow, but you didn’t have long to feel that way before Matt was leaning forward again, his face set in a firm expression.
“Just because things didn’t work out how you wanted for yourself, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to sit here stuck in one place,” Matt shot back.
His words felt like a slap to the face. You sat there for a moment, the tears burning in your eyes at the audacity of him saying that to you. Of him knowing how you felt about him, telling you he wanted to marry another woman, and then throwing your feelings back at you like that.
Swallowing hard, you abruptly pushed your chair back and rose to your feet. Matt was still sitting and seething on the other side of the table, focused on your movements. Foggy’s face looked like it was permanently stuck in a mixture of shock and horror as he sat in utter silence.
“Fuck you, Matt,” you growled. “I never thought you were that much of an asshole to throw my feelings for you like that back in my fucking face.”
Matt straightened instantly in his chair, his expression shifting rapidly. “What?” he asked.
“I said fuck you ,” you spat, tears starting to make their way down your cheeks. “For knowing I’ve had feelings for you all these fucking years,” you barreled on, watching as his mouth immediately dropped open and his eyebrows shot up high onto his forehead, “and letting me think you were fucking dead for months and now making me listen to your bullshit desire to marry Erica. You’re not worth the goodbye. So fuck you, Matthew Murdock.”
You didn’t bother to wait for him to recover from the shock of your outburst, his body pin straight in his chair as he gaped at you in stunned silence. Turning on your heel, you stormed off out of Josie’s, fuming internally as you pushed the door open and made your way out into the night.
Matt sat in his chair, his mind racing as he listened to you making your exit from Josie’s. He could taste the salt of your tears and the venom of your anger in the air right before you'd left, but it was what he'd thought he'd heard you say that had him sitting dumbfounded in his seat.
Had you said what he'd thought you'd said? Had that really happened?
"Shit, Matt," Foggy groaned out. "What the hell was that?"
Matt's head spun towards Foggy, shock still coursing through him. He could feel his hands shaking as they reached up, pulling his glasses from his face and lowering them to the table.
"What did she just say?" he asked Foggy in disbelief.
Matt could hear the way Foggy’s mouth dropped open yet again and the way his eyes had widened on his friend's face. Though Matt was more focused on the feel of his own racing heart in his chest as he tried to understand what had just happened.
"I think she said it pretty loud and clear, buddy," Foggy told him. "She's pissed at you. And I don't blame her one bit."
"No," Matt breathed out, shaking his head at Foggy. "Not that. The other part. The part about having feelings for me."
"I mean…yeah," Foggy replied matter-of-factly. "She's had them for you forever, dude. You knew that already though."
" What ?" Matt whispered in shock.
You…you'd had feelings for him? For Matt? For years ? And you both for some reason thought he knew that?
"Yeah, Matt," Foggy continued. "She's been crazy about you practically since she met you. She said you guys talked about this when she found out about your big secret. That was a while ago now. She said you'd told her you always had known she liked you because of your senses."
"I–what?" Matt stammered.
"Dude," Foggy said in exasperation. "Why are you acting like this is such big news?"
"Because it is , Fog!" Matt exclaimed. "She told me she was in love with you !"
Foggy froze, his mouth once again hanging wide open. Matt could feel the confusion practically rolling off of him in the chair beside him. Then he noticed Foggy quickly and firmly shaking his head.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Matt?" he asked. "When the hell did she tell you that ?"
"That night!" Matt shouted. “She told me that night!”
“No,” Foggy said, still shaking his head. “No, there’s no way, dude. Did she expressly say ‘Hey, Matt I’m in love with Foggy?’”
Matt opened his mouth, about to tell him yes, but then he stopped short. Because no, you hadn’t in fact said Foggy’s name exactly. You had never actually told him you had feelings for Foggy. He’d always just thought that’s who you’d meant and it had made sense. Even Elektra had been pushing that idea onto him, telling him that you were always pining after him. How obvious it was with the way you looked at Foggy. He’d always thought that was the truth.
Had he been wrong this whole time?
“No,” Matt breathed out. “She–she never said your name. She never said any name.”
It felt like his entire world was falling apart around him. You’d never actually told him you liked Foggy. Never explicitly said his name. He’d just let Elektra’s words and his senses paint a story for him that he’d believed for so long. Which meant that night, over a year ago now when Elektra had dropped him off at your apartment, you’d been thinking he knew that you'd always had feelings for him because of his senses, when Matt had thought you had confirmed you'd always had feelings for Foggy this whole time. And that also meant that night when you hadn’t known who the masked man was and he’d found you drunk in that alley after your asshole ex had cheated on you–it had been him you’d really been crying over. You had both held each other tight that night crying over your feelings for each other in the rain.
All of this time he had been the friend who you’d had feelings for? How could he have been so fucking unaware?
“Holy shit, you really didn’t know, did you?” Foggy asked in surprise.
“No,” Matt repeated vehemently, his focus returning to Foggy. “No, Fog. I swore I thought she was always in love with you! Ever since she met you the pair of you just clicked! You were always spending so much time together. Both so alike. And her body was always reacting like crazy around you–but it…” he trailed off, blinking hard a few times. “It was me?”
Foggy reached out, placing a hand on Matt’s shoulder. He felt his friend give it a reassuring squeeze as he tried to process the influx of information suddenly rushing back to him. Every time he’d thought he was reading you reacting to Foggy, it had been him. How could he have read you so wrong for years?
“Fuck, I almost told her on graduation night,” Matt recalled, tears filling his eyes. “You’d fallen asleep and she was–was right there . I had been about to tell her I had feelings for her–about to kiss her–but then she suddenly panicked and I felt her fear. I thought it was because she knew I was going to and she had gotten scared. Because she wanted you .”
“Dude, no,” Foggy said, squeezing Matt’s shoulder again. “She probably was hoping you’d kiss her but afraid she was misreading the situation. That’s probably the fear you picked up on. She thinks you’ve only ever seen her as a friend, Matt.”
Matt ran a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“All this time I’ve just been–been misreading everything ?” Matt asked in shock.
“Clearly. But how the hell does that even happen with you? With what you can do?” Foggy questioned him. “And also–what the fuck, Matt? You’ve had feelings for our best friend all this time and you never fucking told me ?”
Matt’s attention returned to Foggy beside him, his sightless eyes intensely focused on him. “Do you remember that fall semester?” Matt asked earnestly. “That girl I told you I’d ran into?”
“Matt,” Foggy said with a sigh. “You ran into many girls.”
Matt shook his head quickly. “No, not like this. Not her. The one we called the White Whale?” he pushed.
Matt could hear the way Foggy’s brows drew together on his forehead. His hand fell away from Matt’s shoulder and instead came to run across his mouth as he took a moment to think back.
“Yeah,” Foggy eventually answered. “The girl you spent weeks looking around campus for. The one you were dying to meet. We came up with a bunch of ridiculous ways you might meet up with her over winter break.”
“Yes, her,” Matt replied in a rush. He whispered your name, feeling his heart twisting at the sound of it. “That was her . She was the White Whale, Fog.”
Foggy sat speechless for a moment, his hand still raised to his mouth as if he’d been taken off guard by Matt’s admission. Matt could hear Foggy’s heart rate elevating even further in his chest as he processed that information.
“You–you told me you met the White Whale and things hadn’t worked out, Matt,” Foggy pointed out. “You told me that.”
“Because I thought she’d fallen for you!” Matt shot back, gesturing a hand roughly at Foggy. “So I never told you it was her because I figured it didn't matter anymore. And I was–was an asshole and selfishly never said anything about the feelings I thought she had for you because I–I didn’t want to see you two together.”
“Fucking hell, Matt,” Foggy groaned, running a hand down his face. “What a fucking mess. So all this time you two idiots have had feelings for each other and nothing happened because no one fucking said anything?”
“I had no idea,” Matt whispered. “I had no idea she felt that way about me.”
“Ugh!” Foggy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.
Matt heard the way both of Foggy’s hands flew up to cover his face soon after, his hands rubbing agitatedly at his eyes. He could feel the irritation and frustration coming from his best friend, and he could feel something else exuding from him, too. But Matt didn’t take a moment to even wonder what it was as a thought suddenly struck him.
He shoved his chair back, swiftly rising to his feet. He was going to go after you. He had to. He had to tell you the truth. But Foggy’s hand abruptly grabbed onto his arm and it caused Matt to stop before he could even leave the table.
“What’re you doing?” Foggy asked him.
“Going after her,” Matt answered as if it was obvious. “I can’t leave her like that, Fog. I can’t let her continue thinking I knew all of this time that she had feelings for me and that I never felt the same. Because that’s not true. And I can't let her keep thinking that.”
“Matt, buddy, no,” Foggy replied quickly, tugging on his arm. “You just told her minutes ago that you were considering marrying someone else. And need I remind you–you’re still dating Erica. The woman you just told her you wanted to marry. You can't chase off after her in some grand romantic pursuit and tell her you have feelings for her. Not like this. She deserves better, Matt.”
A pained expression pulled at Matt’s face. He didn’t want to let you go back home feeling like this.Thinking what you were thinking. He didn’t want that. Especially knowing what he now knew.
"What're you saying?" Matt asked.
"You want to tell her this?" Foggy questioned back. “That you have feelings for her?”
Matt nodded immediately. "Yes, Fog. Yes. I've wanted to tell her for years. I’ve come so close so many times," he confessed.
"Then do it when you're single, Matt," Foggy stated. "Don't you dare go chasing after her and telling her you have feelings when you're dating another woman. When you just finished talking about marrying another woman. Don't you do that to her, man. Because so help me, Matt, I don't care how well you throw a punch, I will hit you."
Matt's face slowly fell as he gradually slumped back down in his chair. Foggy was right. He had just dropped this idea of proposing to Erica on you–and God what an asshole he felt like now knowing how much that had to have hurt you to hear. No wonder you’d gotten so angry and your body’s stress levels had risen so quickly. And now he would sound like an ass chasing you down after that. But knowing how much pain he’d just caused you only increased that familiar heartache of his own that was currently twisting and constricting in his chest. He’d hurt you tonight. And probably countless nights over the years. How often had you been crying because of him ? He wanted to slam his fist through the table at the thought.
"Why the hell do you want to marry Erica anyway?" Foggy asked. “That seems so out of nowhere, man.”
"Because we–we get along," Matt answered lamely. "And she's always so busy so me being Daredevil has never caused an issue. It’s never been a problem. And I–I don't want to be alone,” he admitted, aware of how pathetic he sounded. “I figured Erica and I would figure things out later. That maybe she'd understand. I wasn’t really thinking things through, I admit that."
"Matt, Erica doesn't even know about your heightened senses," Foggy pointed out. "You can't get that serious with someone out of convenience and fear of being alone, buddy. It's wrong and it won't work out. That’s not fair to Erica, either."
"I know," Matt murmured, running a hand over his forehead. "You're right. You’re both right. I just–just thought I'd never have her and I was lonely. And when I was with Erica, she made me feel less lonely."
Foggy was shaking his head again. "That's not right, Matt. You can't do that to Erica."
"I know," he whispered, shamefully burying his face in his hands. "I'll talk to Erica tomorrow after work. I'll end the relationship. And then I'll talk to her." He whispered your name, his voice muffled by the hands over his face. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes. “I’ll tell her the truth. Everything.”
God did he want to tell you the truth so badly, too. He wondered how pissed at him you would be when you heard it. He wondered if there was anything he could do to make this whole situation salvageable. To fix all the things he’d fucked up, knowingly and unknowingly. He would do anything at all. Whatever it took.
"Well if you're going to tell her about your feelings you better hurry, Matt," Foggy said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re running out of time.”
Matt's brows drew together on his forehead. Something you'd said just before you left ran through his mind again. Something about him not being worth a goodbye. Matt felt his chest tightening further, a few tears slipping out of his eyes as he instantly drew his face from his hands and focused back on Foggy beside him.
"What's going on, Fog?" he asked anxiously. "You said she had something to tell me tonight. I'm guessing this wasn't it. So what is it?"
Foggy expelled a deep sigh, his grip on Matt’s shoulder growing a bit firmer. Matt felt his heart beating a bit erratically in his chest in the silence that followed, especially with the nervous sounds Foggy’s body was making right now.
"She was offered a new position at work," he finally told Matt. "Really amazing pay–almost double her salary. But the job is in L.A. where her company is opening up a new office."
It felt like someone had ran Matt’s heart straight through with a knife. He had endured a lot of physical pain over the past few years running around the city at night, his body taking a lot of abuse. But the way those words struck Matt hurt more than any injury he'd ever sustained.
"Is she–did she…?"
Foggy nodded solemnly. "Yeah," he answered. "She accepted it. She moves at the end of the week."
Matt's tongue felt heavy in his mouth, unable to swallow or form words as his lips began to tremble. You were leaving him. He just found out the truth–that you felt the same way after all this time–and you were leaving him. Moving to the other side of the country in a matter of days and he had no idea until just now. Days before you left.
"What–what about Adam?" Matt breathed out.
"They broke up months ago," Foggy replied. "She realized when you were with Erica that she just couldn't get over you. She hoped Adam might’ve been the one, but apparently he wasn’t.” Foggy sighed, his hand still comfortingly on his friend’s shoulder. “That's why she took the job, Matt. She's running from you. Running from her feelings for you."
Matt’s gaze dropped down to the table, more tears slowly sliding down his face. He’d done that to you, then. Hurt you so badly that you wanted to run from him. Put an entire country between the both of you. Now you didn’t even want to say goodbye to him. He winced at the pain of that thought.
"What if–if I told her?" he asked Foggy desperately, his focus returning to his friend. "What if I told her how I felt, Fog? Would she stay? Do you think she wouldn’t leave then?"
He heard the way the air shifted as Foggy shrugged in answer. The gesture didn't ease the constricting pain in Matt’s chest at all. Warm tears kept falling down Matt’s face as the weight of losing you slowly settled in his heart.
"She can't–can't leave though," Matt croaked out, voice breaking as he shook his head. "She can't leave us–she can't leave me ."
Foggy rose slowly from his chair, crossing the space between the pair of them before wrapping Matt in a hug. Without hesitation Matt clung to his friend as a sob fell out of him, his face contorted in pain.
"She can't leave," Matt choked out. “She can’t , Fog.”
"I know, Matt," Foggy said, emotion thick in his voice. "I don't want her to go either."
"I lose everyone," Matt whispered. He clutched at Foggy’s dress shirt, entirely uncaring of who was watching the scene in Josie’s as he sobbed on his friend’s shoulder. "I can't lose her, too. I can't. I–I love her, Foggy. I love her."
"I’m sorry, Matt," Foggy replied, crying along with him. "But I don't know if there's anything either of us can do now."
[END NOTES]
More end notes this time because I often feel like this series needs it.
Matt now finally knows that Reader is not in love with Foggy! It only took YEARS for him to realize that--and it's only because Reader blurted it out in her anger at Matt having stupid thoughts about marrying someone who didn't even know all of him. Clearly he was clinging to Erica because he didn't think he could ever have Reader and he was trying to latch onto someone who made him feel good in the moment. Matt now also knows that Reader is leaving New York in just a matter of days, too. But, despite Matt now knowing the truth, Reader still has absolutely no idea that Matt has feelings for her. So what happens next? Does Matt chase after her and she stays? Does he miss her and she leaves? Something else? You'll have to wait for the next installment to find out...
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Lonely souls
Y/N: 12 years old
Story: After a failed attempt of getting her family back, Wanda meets a young girl that needs help …
——————————————————
Y/N'S POV
I've been walking around for the past few hours. I have no idea where I am. Actually… I've never been outside of the base I've spent my entire life in. I have no idea what happened, but I managed to sneak out when the hydra agents were busy fighting a bunch of guys named the Avengers.
Suddenly I see a young woman cutting branches of the trees that are surrounding this place. I take a deep breath and walk towards her. Maybe she could help me, right?
"I. Hm. Excuse me? Could I ask if there's some village, city or just something near this place?" I ask the woman nervously, playing with my fingers. I've never actually talked to normal people.
"How did you get here?" She asks, looking at me confused.
"I. Hm. I-I got lost" I lie. I can't tell her about the base…
"Well, there's nothing around in here" She says. "Only my house. Come on, I'll make you some tea" She gives me a smile.
"Thank you" I smile back, a sigh of relief leaving my lips.
"What's your name?" She asks as we step into her house. She leads me into the kitchen and gets into making the tea. The house looks nice, she must be kinda lonely here though if she lives here alone. I don't even see any pictures here.
"Y/N" I simply answer.
"That's a pretty name" She smiles. "I'm Wanda… How old are you?"
"Twelve" I respond. "… You live here all alone?" I ask which was probably a mistake, cause she only sadly nods. She places the tea on the table, telling me to sit down, so I do as said.
"Your parents must be looking for you. Where do you live?" She asks with a soft smile. I just blankly stare at her, not knowing what to say. She keeps looking at me, waiting for an answer, but suddenly I hear her voice in my head while her eyes are glowing red. "You were at hydra?" She asks, her eyes turning back to normal.
"How… how do you know?" I ask, standing up and backing off, slowly walking backwards to the front door. My heart racing as I'm praying she's not one of them.
"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" She stands up, slowly walking towards me, hurt visible in her eyes. "I have powers, I'm an Avenger… or was. I don't want to hurt you… Let me help you… please" She says, her gaze softening which makes me relax a little bit.
"Mhm" I slowly nod. I have no place to go anyway, so hopefully she's really one of the good guys.
"Good. You must be hungry. Let's sit back down and I'll give you something to eat, okay?" She smiles softly.
"Okay" I just simply nod. I'm really hungry and don't want to get killed by her.
She gives me some food that I've never heard of before. It smells nice though, I hope she won't poison me or anything. I get into eating and let me tell you… I've never eaten anything better before.
"Do you like it?" She asks with a warm smile.
"It's really good, thank you" I say politely with a smile.
"I'm sorry again… about scarying you. I really don't want to hurt you. You can stay the night and we'll think of something tomorrow. Would that be okay?" She asks, waiting for me to say something while she's playing with the rings on her fingers.
"I.. Yeah. Thank you" I smile.
When I'm done eating, Wanda shows me her bedroom, telling me I can sleep there and insisting she's gonna take the couch. She borrows me some clothes to sleep in and I take a hot shower before bed.
Once I'm all finally ready to actually go to sleep. I lay down on the bed, feeling better than ever. A knock interrupts my thinking. Wanda walks in with a smile on her face, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"I just came to say goodnight. You can come to me if anything" She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. She presses a kiss to my forehead, stroking my cheek with her thumb, making me feel something I've never felt before. It's a nice feeling though. "Sweet dreams" She smiles at me again before standing up and walking towards the door.
"Goodnight" I smile at her before she closes the door, closing my eyes right after that.
———————————
Tears are streaming down my face as I'm sitting in the middle of the bed, hugging my knees tightly. I've just had the worst nightmare. My hands are shaking like crazy and I just can't stop the tears.
I manage to crawl out of the bed and walk downstairs with hope to find Wanda. She said I could come to her, so hopefully she won't be mad.
I walk to the living room, finding Wanda sitting on the couch and watching TV. I let out a shaky breath before calling her name.
"Wanda?" I quietly call, not wanting to scare her. She turns around to look at me, her smile fading when she sees the state I'm in.
"Sweetheart, what happened?" She asks, already walking to me. She cups my cheeks with her hands, wiping my tears away with her thumbs.
"Nightmare" I manage to say, trying not to cry again which is not really successful.
"Oh honey. It's okay. I'm here" She smiles, pulling me into a hug. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks, rubbing my back as she's still hugging me. I nod in response, hoping she'll somehow help me to get it out of my head.
She leads me to the couch and we both sit down. She wraps an arm around me which makes me to lean into her and wrap my arms around her.
"What was your nightmare about?" She asks, playing with my hair.
"… That I was back at hydra" I manage to get out after taking a deep shaky breath.
"I'm so sorry, honey" Wanda says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I promise you'll never go back to that place. I'll make sure of that"
"How can you be sure of that? What if they'll find me?" I ask, looking up at her.
"… They won't… You have me now and I'll always protect you.. no matter what… I know I said we'd talk about it tomorrow, but… Y/N, I think we both need a new beginning" Wanda starts, still playing with my hair. "We can stay here or go anywhere we'd want. I promise I'll take a good care of you and always protect you" Wanda says, tears in her eyes by now.
"You want me to stay with you?" I ask, tears also filling my eyes. She's been really nice to me and I really don't want to stay alone.
"Yeah… If you want to stay with me" She says, wiping away the tears that escaped my eyes.
"Mhm" I nod, practically jumping into her arms, holding her tightly and receiving a kiss to my forehead. I really need a new beginning…
----------------------
I kind of rushed this…
PS: Currently working on the werewolf story someone requested :))
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Kiss Me Through the Phone
Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k words
Kink: Phone Sex
Warnings: NSFW, phone sex, masturbation (m and f), dirty talk, daddy kink, praise...
A/N: This is late, ik. I swear I'm working on it but that ADHD and everything is hitting HARD. I can't promise I'll catch up but I can promise that these will get finished so I won't leave you hanging. Enjoy this (late) fic though and I'll hopefully see you again with a new one tomorrow!
"Don't you think you should probably be getting to bed, babe?"
Steve raises a brow as he speaks into the receiver holding the phone to his ear as he awaits your response. You called him hours ago to talk while you did homework. The first half hour consisted of him teasing you because you still had homework to do while he graduated the year before. He kept calling you a "literal child", to which you replied, "Then I'm dating a pervert." He promptly shut up.
But now it's midnight, and you ditched the remainder of your homework a couple hours ago. It's late, and you technically have school in the morning. You aren't ready to hang up but Steve is always trying to take care of you, and this is one of those times when he's trying to enforce that—even though he'd rather die than hang up the phone.
"And, you know, I would but…" you trail off on the other end, trying to come up with an excuse and falling short as you shrug, "I just don't want to."
He rolls his eyes and laughs. "Go to bed."
"You can't make me."
"I'm going to."
"How? You're not even here."
"I'm going to drive to your house and make you."
"If you drove to my house, I'd convince you to do something much better than sleeping…" Steve can hear the smirk in your voice, and he thinks he's going to die if you keep using your charm on him like this. He's already horny enough all the time as it is, you don't need to make it worse with suggestive comments you can currently live up to.
"You drive me crazy," he answers truthfully.
He hears you giggle and smiles. "That's good. Keeps you on your toes."
He shakes his head and hears you shuffle around. When you curse under your breath, he hums. "What?"
"Nothin'. Got the cord wrapped around my hand and it tangled a little." A pause. "There."
"Yeah, well, you probably like that shit, don't you? Fuckin' weirdo."
You laugh quietly, trying not to disturb the rest of the people sleeping in your house. "Don't kink shame me!"
He raises his brows, "What if kink shaming is my kink?"
You hum, "It's not. You like to be called Daddy. Which is admittedly weirder."
He scoffs, ignoring the heat in his cheeks when you say it. "No, it's not."
You giggle again. "Yeah, it is. Daddy."
He licks his lips. "You think so? Baby?"
He hopes you'll say no because, otherwise, his "baby" makes him sound like a creep.
"No," you say, an angel. You miss his little relieved breath. "You wanna know what I like?"
"What do you like, baby?" he asks, less joking this time and more fond.
"I like your hands..." Your voice is quieter now, speaking in a secret whisper between the two of you in the cover of the night.
We're doing this, Steve thinks, excited.
"Yeah?" he murmurs. "Where do you like them?"
"Well… I've been wanting a new necklace. I think that'd work just fine," you smile shyly.
He can see it, kissing you all nice with his hand wrapped around your throat. His pants suddenly feel really tight.
"Where else would you like it?" he wonders.
"I dunno," you mutter, shy suddenly. Steve thinks you're weird. You're almost always the one to start something like this, and then you get shy and quiet when he plays along with you. He thinks you're cute.
"You don't know?"
"Mm-mm," you say.
He smiles, licking his bottom lip. "You know where I'd like it?"
"Hm?"
"On your thigh," he breaths. His hand moves to rest on his own thigh. He hears your breath hitch. "I'd love to feel your thighs. I miss 'em."
It takes a moment for you to respond again. "Where else would you put them?"
"Where else do you want me to put them?" he counters. He knows you don't like when he does that—or, you don't favor it. He knows how it makes you squirm, when he makes you tell him what you want. You're never good at telling him.
Your voice becomes really small, really shy. "I dunno."
"You dunno?" he asks, smiling. "Where do you want me to put my hands?"
Steve can imagine you on your bed with the phone pressed to your ear, playing with the cord as you try to come up with a response that isn't "I dunno".
"Just tell me. Don't worry about soundin' weird," he says.
You take a breath. "I want your hand…"
You trail off and he has to contain his laugh. "Where?" he asks again. "On your hands? On your tits? Inside of you?"
A pause. "All of the above?"
He does laugh this time, clutching the phone. "Where do you want me the most?"
You clear your throat a little. "Inside me."
"I want 'em inside you, too."
He hears you moan lightly, and now he has to undo his belt.
"Would you like that, baby? For me to put my fingers inside you? I'd have you squirming like crazy."
"Yeah," you whisper back. "What do you want me to do?"
"What do I want you to do?" he repeats, smiling. "You don't needa do anything. I'll take care of you."
You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, but… what do you want me to do? Do you want me to touch you or…?"
He feels like teasing you. "You mean, like, jerk me off? Or did you wanna use your mouth, dirty girl?" He can imagine you biting your lip, trying to hide your face away from him.
"Did you want that?" you murmur.
"Did you?" he counters.
You laugh a little. "Answer my fucking question, dummy."
He laughs as well, "Yeah, I do." His amusement dies down a little, returning to little secret words. "I really want it, but I wanna spread you open and eat you up more."
He hears you moan again. And then you moan again, and his interest is piqued, along with something else…
"Are you touching yourself?" he asks, a smile in his voice as he calls you out.
You get shy again. "Maybe a little."
"How much is a little?" You don't respond. You just moan again.
He's too hard to ignore it anymore. He unbuckles his tight jeans and takes himself out of his boxers. He brushes his thumb over his tip, red and weeping as he closes his eyes and sighs shallowly.
Your voice grabs his attention again. “Are you touchin’ yourself now?”
He chuckles lightly, too breathy to be subtle. “Can you blame me when you’re makin’ those pretty sounds in my ear?” He strokes himself slowly. “God, what I’d do to be there right now. I’m so in love with you.”
Your laugh comes out as a tiny whimper, your voice just as breathy as his as you thrust your fingers inside of your and sigh. “You’re too nice to me.”
“I’m not nice enough to you,” he disagrees. “You deserve the world, baby.”
“How about– Mmh– How about we just start with your voice in my ear, huh?” you mumble. “What would you do if you were here right now, Stevie?”
He makes you swear never to tell anyone but he loves that nickname. You only ever use it when you’re feeling really soft and shy, in the comfort of just his company when he’s being especially sweet and you’re a pile of mush. He wants you tucked under his arm, and he wants to kiss you stupid, but he has to settle for just a smile through the phone and a few words that don’t accurately describe how strongly he feels for you.
“If I were there right now, I would lay you on the bed and put your pretty thighs over my shoulder.” You shudder on a moan, presumably pushing your fingers deeper inside of yourself and curling. Steve keeps going. “I’d fucking devour you and then kiss you all over your body—which is just perfect, by the way—and then I’d fuck you dumb.”
You moan. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, taking his lotion from his drawer and smearing it in his hand. He strokes his cock a little faster, wrapping his fist around himself and squeezing as his head tips back and his lips part, a breathy moan slipping from them. “I’d fucking split you open on my cock.” He knows you love it when he says that. You always melt in his hands whenever he says things like this. “You’d be cryin’ f’me.”
You’re so lost in your mind, imagining him doing these things to you whilst thinking about his hands inside your pussy instead of your own. “Where would you put me?”
He’s happy to tell you. “We’d start out with you on top. I’d put you in my lap and let you ride me until your little legs got all weak and tired. Then I’d lay you down and fuck you with your legs around my neck. Have you screaming my name.”
Your voice is pitchier now, and he swears he can hear the faint sound of your pussy squelching with the rhythm of your insistent fingers. He pulses in his hand, his hips jerking up into his hand every so often as he grinds into his fist. He’s fucking his hand by now, so lost in thought that he can’t help but get a little carried away imagining his fist is your tight pussy.
“Which name?” you whimper. “Steve or Daddy?”
He verbally shudders. “Both.”
“Which one do you want the most?”
He chuckles darkly, aware of the way you turn his question around like he had done to you before. “Maybe you should call me Daddy.” He groans. “You’ve gotten a little out of line since we last did something like this…”
“Maybe I should, Daddy,” you reply back, immediately followed by a whine. He wants so badly to be there to watch you touch yourself, to watch you try to put your little fingers inside of you and hit all the spots he does. He can imagine so vividly you trying to replicate the way he makes you feel. "Need you to…remind me who I belong to."
He's so pent up as he listens to you. He can't help when a few stray groans make their way out of him. "You know who you belong to. You're mine, baby."
"'M yours," you moan, wet sounds reaching the phone and filling Steve's ears with sweet music as he fists himself faster. "I need you."
"Yeah?" he hums. "You need Daddy to fuck you nice and deep, baby?"
"Yes." A moan. "I miss you so much."
"I miss you, baby," he says, too fond and too affectionate and too far gone to fight his urge to get in his car and go to see you right now. But he would die before he left this call.
He's close, he can feel it creeping up on him as his hips jerk up into his hand. By the way you gasp and moan into the phone, he can tell you're reaching your breaking point as well.
"You gonna cum for me, babygirl?" Steve asks, listening closely.
"Yeah."
"You gonna cum all over those pretty fingers?"
"Yes."
"Fuck," he huffs. "Do it for me, baby. Cum for me."
He can hear you try to stay quiet, your muffled gasp as a deep breath fills your lung on a whimper. "Oh, fuck, Daddy!"
He curses under his breath, your little whimpers and whine as you cum and moan his name bringing him closer and closer until he can't hold it anymore.
His mouth falls open and his grunt melts into a rough whimper as he cums after you. He feels the warm, sticky release coat his chest. As his pleasure wanes and he feels like he can think straight again, he sighs deeply into the phone.
"Fuck." He hears you sigh heavily. "You okay, baby?"
A pause. And then.
"Yeah." You sigh, "Fuck, that's better."
He smiles. "Been thinking about it?"
"All day." Your voice is breathy, slurred together like you're going to pass out at any moment.
He runs a hand through his hair, "Well, when I see you tomorrow, we can reenact it." He grabs at the shirt he'd taken off a long time ago, wiping himself clean as he listens to your steady breath through the phone. "You want that?"
"Mmm," you agree.
He smiles fondly. "You still with me?" He can see you dozing off into your pillow, and he wishes he could feel your warmth against him.
"Mmm," you hum again.
He lowers his voice to accommodate for your sleepiness, "I'm gonna hang up, baby."
"Hmm-mm."
"I love you," he says, kissing into the phone and wishing he could kiss you.
"'ove you, t-mm," you mumble, barely coherent but trying for him.
He chuckles lightly. "Goodnight."
"Mmm."
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The second date
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: fluff and that’s about it
A/N: some people asked for a second part so here it is. Maybe I’ll make this into like a mini series type thing!!
Part 1
Steve couldn’t stop smiling as he walked into the tower. He couldn’t wait to see you again but first he knew Sam and Bucky would be waiting to see what happened afterwards. Just as he suspected Sam and Bucky were waiting by the elevators. At least they had the decency to look worried that they ruined everything.
“So?” Bucky asks cautiously.
“So what?” Steve shrugs his shoulders and does his best to look upset.
“Are you going out tomorrow or what?”
Steve just shook his head as he walked toward his apartment. He had to keep his head down to avoid getting caught in his lie. At his apartment door he stops and turns towards his friends.
“If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to be alone tomorrow. Hopefully I can think of a way to fix this.”
“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.” Sam says. “Call us if you want to talk.”
“Ok, night guys.”
Steve walks into his apartment leaving Bucky and Sam at the door. He just hoped it would work.
“We have to fix this.”
“Yeah but how?” Bucky asks as he and Sam walk out to one of the shared living rooms.
“We’ll talk to her on Monday. Let her know it was our idea not Steve’s. I know she likes him too.”
“Ok, but after this I never want to work with you again. You’re an idiot.”
“I’m an idiot? You should’ve known better, you’re too old to be pulling a stunt like this.”
“You know considering you’re the one that flies, you're a horrible wingman.” Bucky replies.
“I’m a horrible wingman? You’ve known him longer. You’re a horrible friend.”
They continue bickering for a while before they actually sit down and try to figure out what they’re going to tell you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning you found yourself looking at your outfit in the mirror. There was not a hair out of place, your dress was cute and had a 1940’s style to it you even paired it with heels and pearls. The buzzer goes off right on time. You grab your purse and head out the door.
“You look beautiful.” Are the first words out of Steve’s mouth when he sees you.
“Thank you, you look very handsome yourself.”
His cheeks flush pink but he smiles anyway. He’s dressed in a black three piece suit with a white button up shirt and a blue tie that just so happens to match his eyes. His hair was slicked back the same way he used it when he first woke up from the ice.
“Shall we?” He offers you his arm and you take it.
“We shall.”
****
The park that was holding the big band music festival felt like stepping back in time. Most of the crowd was dressed to impress. Women wore dresses and heels, some even had on gloves and hats. Men wore suits or something more along the lines of 30s/40s streetwear. There were stalls everywhere and a stage at the center accompanied by a dance floor. The best part was that no one really seemed to notice Steve or wanted a picture with him. He relaxed the further into the park he went.
“So what would you like to do first?” Steve asks as he looks around.
“I don’t know, this is your area of expertise.”
“Ok,” Steve looked around unsure of where to start just as the band began to play a slower song. “How about we start with a dance?”
“I’d love that.”
Steve leads you to the dance floor. One hand goes to your waist while the other holds your hand. Your free hand holds on to his shoulder and he begins to lead you in a slow dance. The look in his eyes is soft, sweet and almost loving. Steve holds you close while he rests his cheek against your temple and hims along to the song. A content sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes.
“This is a much better date.” You whisper and can feel him chuckle.
“Yes it is.”
You smile up at him when he pulls back to look at you. Then he spins you and dips you. When Steve pulls you back up your lips are almost touching. You smile and close the very minuscule distance. Steve is taken by surprise but it doesn't take him long to kiss you back.
Both of you have matching smiles as the date goes on. You stop to look around the stalls and what was being sold and even buy some records. Including one that had the song you first danced to with Steve. Ever the gentleman he offers to carry your bags. You get some snacks that were popular in his time and he really opens up by telling you stories of his childhood and his mom.
By the end of the afternoon you’re sharing a booth at a diner. Steve sat beside you instead of across, his arm was thrown across the back of the booth and his attention was all on you as you spoke.
“Oh I meant to ask earlier. How did you get out dressed like this without Sam or Bucky noticing?”
“Well I actually set it up last night. I told them that I wanted to be myself today to think of a way to make things right with you.” Steve says with a rather proud look on his face.
“You, Steven Rogers, lied?”
“Yup. It was not easy.”
You giggled. “Do you think they’ll try to talk to me on Monday so they can fix it?”
“Oh absolutely.”
~~~~~~~~
On Monday morning you’re busy with meetings and texting Steve in between them. When you get to your office a smile appears on your lips. On the desk is a beautiful floral arrangement, the card attached to it just says see you at noon and Steve’s initials at the bottom.
You look at your watch and realize you only have a few minutes before Steve stops by. After putting away the meeting documents and the tablet you normally use you grab a small mirror you keep in your desk and check your appearance. There’s a knock on your door and you allow whoever it is to come in.
“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing?” Bucky says, he flashes you a reserved smile.
“Do you have a minute?” Sam asks as he closes the door in order to have some privacy.
“Actually I am going out but I can schedule a meeting for later today.”
“We just wanted to let you know that the whole earpiece thing was not Steve’s idea. He’s a really great guy and I know he really likes you.”
“Oh ok.” You say as you grab your purse and start heading out. You’re trying to hide your smile as you head toward the door.
“Seriously Y/N,” Sam adds. “He didn’t really want to do it, we just didn’t give him much of a choice.”
“Ok.” You say as you open the door. Steve is standing right there and you can’t help but smile up at him.
“Ready to go?”
“I am if you are.”
“Well let’s go then.” He kisses your cheek before offering you his arm. “See you guys at training later.” He says over his shoulder.
Sam and Bucky stood there completely speechless, a first for the duo.
“When did this happen?”
“We went out Saturday.”
“To the music festival?” Bucky shouts the question.
“Yup.”
“Steve you little shit!”
“I can write you up for that Barnes.” You say as you turn to look at them. With a laugh you wink in their direction and get lost in the crowd as Steve leads you out of the building for your lunch date.
Part 3
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Wifey, i have an idea. Imagine Jude being so in love with his gf who has never seen snow before? He adores her so much that he secretly prays that it snows every day and they just play together like little kids do :(((((
Yes i’ve never seen snow. Fulfill my dream please 🧍🏻♀️
it seemed like sitting still on the couch was impossible for jude, shaking his leg, rubbing his hands together, getting up to look outside and then going back to sit on the couch was all he did for the past twenty minutes.
they said it would snow, just be patient, was what he kept telling himself over and over again, trying his best to keep his hopes up.
jude just really, really wants to experience your first snow together, he wants to see you all cuddled up in your big jacket and long scarf with your hat covering half of your face. you’d look so cozy, he thinks, it would be cold yet you would radiate your usual warmth mixed with excitement.
22:46. and still no snow. you must be in bed already, he thinks and the thought of yet another day of no snow made jude groan in frustration, angry at the weather forecast even if it primarily wasn’t their fault.
he got up from his spot, almost feeling stupid for spending his entire day in the living room while looking out of the window. he could’ve just spent the time with you, but you had some work left and told him to meet up tomorrow instead.
after his night routine and kissing his mums forehead good night, jude finds himself laying in his bed, phone in his hands as he checks up on your for the last time before also closing his eyes to get rest.
‘still no snow :(‘ he sends you the message, his face subconsciously mimicking the emoji that he used.
your reply came in seconds later, ‘komm schon jude! it’s fine, tomorrow will be better :)’
‘hopefully. i love you, good night’
‘love you too!’, jude could hear your happy voice in his head, the one that always tries to stay positive when he feels sad or hopeless. you really did always lift him up when he needed it the most.
sighing for the last time that day, jude puts his phone away and covers himself with his blanket, praying internally for a better day when he wakes up.
jude thinks he is dreaming as he feels something shake his body rapidly and just waves it off, trying to concentrate on the ball on his feet. at first it was faint, almost inaudible, then the volume increased until he finally heard his name being called out repeatedly.
“jude! c’mon you grandpa, it’s happening! get up, will you?!” your voice appeared next to his ear, straddling jude as he shots up, eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.
“dude, what are you doing here!” he exclaimed, heart beating fast as he tries to understand the situation.
“oh, wow.” you roll your eyes playfully, “i thought you’d be happy to see me first thing in the morning.”
now, jude grins, leaning forward on his hands as he kisses you on the cheek, “how about i show you how happy i really-“
shaking your head and pulling away from his touch, you cut him off, excitement entering your body again as you get up from your spot next to him, “no time for that, jude! get dressed! it snowed!”
“huh?”
jude looked around, noticing that his room was brighter than it usually was in the morning and when he looked out of the window, he couldn’t help but get out of his bed to get a closer look. there it was, his usual view of greenery now painted in white, children were playing outside, some elder people were shoveling their front porches.
“get dressed! i’ll be waiting outside!” you kiss his cheek for the last time and leave his room, getting impatient with how slowly jude moved around.
some minutes passed, maybe ten, but not a lot and now jude also stood outside, watching your happy figure create snow angels there, start to build a snowman here and just smiling at him whenever your eyes met.
jude always believed that you looked the best when you talked about something you were passionate about. though, it seems like he had to correct his ranking. excitement looked even better on you, your eyes shined like the moon when reflecting on the water, your smile warmes his insides like a nice hot chocolate after a day out in the cold.
if that is what you look like every time it snows, winter might just become his new favorite season of the year.
————————————
i am hungry, so, so hungry.
#football one shot#football x reader#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x reader#x reader#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fluff#football
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I have an idea for pedro × reader
They get into a fight about something and the reader leaves the house . She comes back hours later and see pedro worried and angry searching for her for hours so he is mad but they finally make up . ( romantic ending please)
I’ve seen another person writing one similar request. I like the idea ! I actually like better what I wrote here than the smut (if we can even call it that) I wrote last night 😂 is this romantic enough at the end?
I’m coming back to my place tomorrow hopefully I’ll feel better than this past week at my parents!
——————————————————————————————
You were sitting on the couch, watching tv when your phone rang. Pedro was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from lunch. You got up, thinking your phone was on the coffee table, or even the couch, but nothing.
“P? Have you seen my phone?” He turned around, looking for it.
“Yes on the counter”
“Thanks!” You said, grabbing your phone. It was work. Pedro might have seen it too because of what he said.
“Why is your work calling you on a Sunday afternoon?” You simply shrugged, showing him that you didn’t know why. But you actually knew why. You were on a big project. You had to organize a presentation, prepare an entire event on it, and at the same time, write at least twenty pages about it. You loved you job, you really did, but you hated those periods because you had to do everything alone. You had no coworkers on this, it was a one person project.
Every month works like that. Each month it’s a different person, thank god you are around twenty to work there, but it obviously had to be you at some point. Pedro knew how important it was for you, but he didn’t like how nervous and stressed out your were. You became a workaholic during this month, spending most of your time working, and doing nothing else.
It didn’t help knowing that it was actually a slow month for Pedro too. He didn’t have anything big, just a couple of interviews and photo shoots here and there. He had a lot of free time, but that wasn’t your case. Pedro was being very nice about it, you had to put with his crazy schedule the rest of the year, he could live with it for you just for a month. It was hard, but manageable. You also made a deal. Next weekend, you were going out. He found a tiny cabin lost in the woods, and thought it would be a good way to disconnect a little. So he rented it for next week.
You hoped you didn’t get the phone call you were actually having. Because even if you knew it was about your project, you didn’t know that they had move your schedule. Instead of having two weeks to finalize everything, and write your report, you only had one. They apparently had to, they had no choice, “corporate took their decision”. Sure. And it had to be you. So now, you had to find a way to tell Pedro that you couldn’t leave next week, because the event was now on Saturday.
He must have sensed it. Probably the way you walked back to the kitchen, the way you were playing with your phone, how you avoid eye contact, and how your mood changed.
“Bad news right?” You nodded. You leaned on the counter behind him, playing with your phone. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore.
“They changed my schedule” now you were staring at him, waiting for any kind of reaction, but nothing. He didn’t realize it was about next weekend. “The event is now next week” he finally turned around, looking at you.
“Are you going to be okay?” You were confused
“I’m a little behind but I think I’ll manage, but- are you?”
“Me? Yeah why?”
“My event. Is next week.. end” he suddenly stared at you
“Next Saturday?”
“Yes”
“And you said yes”
“I didn’t really have the choice”
“Why?”
“Corporate, apparently”
“That’s just some lame excuses. So what’s the real reason?”
“I don’t know that’s what they told me!”
“You didn’t ask?” Pedro was getting really annoyed. His voice got a little bit lower, but louder.
“I tried!”
“I didn’t really hear you try”
“Why are you mad at me? It’s not my fault!”
“You could have said no maybe?”
“Oh yeah so they could fire me and find someone else to do my job?”
“They would not fire you for that”
“Oh yes they would! It’s not acting here, I can’t do whatever I want, there are rules”
“Because there are not in my career?”
“I never said that!” The fight was going nowhere, you were just pissed and saying the first thing coming to your mind. It didn’t really make sense, for the both of you, but you just went with it anyway.
“Can’t you call them back?”
“For what? They chose to move the event one week sooner. I just have to get ready for it”
“But we rented”
“Can’t you call them?”
“What if I don’t want to?” Pedro was getting sassy
“And what if I don’t want to?” You crossed your arms “why do we have to do what you want, never what I want?” Pedro didn’t say anything, you couldn’t stop staring at him. “You know how much I love my job. And he’ll, you’re the one always on the move, working your ass off 24/7, and you don’t hear me complaining! I do it for one month and you can’t deal with it?” That’s when you had enough. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You let go of your phone and left towards the door.
“Where are you going?” You didn’t say anything. You grabbed your keys, and just left the house. “Y/n wait!” Pedro ran outside, but you were already in your car, leaving the house.
You drove for what seemed forever, not even knowing where you were going. You kind of dissociated the entire time. You finally stopped, feeling thirsty. After buying an iced coffee, you went back to your car, thinking. You and Pedro never really fought. They were some misunderstandings sometimes, some disagreements, but never big fights like that one.
It is true that you never said anything while Pedro was away filming or doing press tour or interviews or whatever. But you realized that’s because he was always calling you, sending you some gifts if he was in another country, or even making you fly to him every time you could. Maybe you needed to find more time for him too, to find a way to prioritize him like he did with you.
While you were away, Pedro was pacing in the house. Feeling a huge amount of guilt. He got scared he pushed you away too much, that it was your last straw, that you were leaving for good. After thinking, he found his reaction childish. So what, you were working a lot for a short amount of time and he couldn’t handle it? After everything you went through for him? The rent was just an excuse. Oh the many times he had to delay dinner, the dates you never had because he had to film longer than expected. Maybe you should wait for y/n’s project to be over before renting anything.
At some point he decided to call you. But after hearing your phone on the counter, he got pissed. The only time you forget to take your phone with you. What if something happens? An accident? Anything! He would not know.
So he grabbed his keys, and decided to go look for you. He first went to your favorite place, a spot he had found outside of town, hoping finding you, but nothing. He then went to your best friend’s house, but they were no cars, so you weren’t there. He went to the planetarium, he remembered how you loved watching stars, and how much you were amused by the animation they had of the planets, but you were nowhere to be found.
He decided to go back home, you could be anywhere, the city was to big to find you. At some point you had to come back, so it would be better to wait at home. Once he was there, again, he couldn’t stop pacing. The sun was setting, and you were still not back. He kept looking at your phone, wishing you had taken it. He also smoked a lot, being extremely anxious.
Finally you came back home, around 8pm, more 9pm actually. Pedro didn’t eat, neither did you. You got tired driving around, the anger had left your body, you were calmer so you decided to come back. You barely entered the house that Pedro ran to you, and hugged you tight.
“Oh thank god you’re back” he whispered. You felt guilty, leaving like that. “I thought something happened, you didn’t have your phone, I looked everywhere for you” you parted. He played with your hair, looking at you anxiously
“I’m sorry, I needed some air, and I got coffee and just kept driving arou- wait you said you looked for me?”
“Yes! I went to your favorite places, but I didn’t find you”
“I’m sorry” you said hugging him again. “I shouldn’t have left like that”
“Yes please do not do that next time. I think we both overreacted on this one, but don’t scare me like that please”
“I’m sorry” you stayed silent for a few seconds. “And you were right I’m sorry”
“No I wasn’t, I’m never here, I work way too much, for once it’s your turn, I should handle it, it’s just that you really need it, and I miss you”
“I’m sorry, I miss you too” you we’re still hugging each other. “But also, I should be able to find time for you, like you always do for me”
“Then it’s settled, no more complaining and more time for us” you looked at each other smiling
“Yes. I love you too much to fight over stupid things like this”
“I couldn’t agree more” he said, caressing your back with his right hand, while the other was on your cheek. Pedro kissed your forehead. “And I love you more” you blushed
“Did you eat?”
“Nope”
“Good. Because I’m starving”
“Do you feel like cooking?”
“Hell no”
“Uber?”
“You read my mind” you both ordered your food, and devoured it in front of a movie on the couch, sitting next to each other.
Sometimes when you’re both worked up it’s hard not to lash out on the first person you see. Guess you both did that to each other. But you felt better, you both did. Releasing this tension.
You spent the evening chilling like that, not thinking about the extremely hard week coming for you, just enjoying your time with your boyfriend, in your own bubble. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
#pedro pascal#fanfic#imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#oneshot#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal preferences#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal request
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BOOK ELEVEN BOOK ELEVEN AAA
BIG SPILLERS FOR BOOK ELEVEN
OK I WARNED YOU
AAAA
I had two things for book eleven but like cmon
Had to share this one, and i can use the other one tomorrow since i don't have anything epic for it otherwise sob
I drew this when i thought his hair was black for some reason bc despite my 800 rereads idk i just
Nothing clicked.
Then for a while after that i thought he was blonde bc blonde moustache and i kinda like that idea but then the wiki says he's also a redhead so like
Yeah, ANYWAY
How to Betray a Dragons Hero is my favourite one of the books i think 🫶🫶 from start to finish it's just such a masterpiece of an emotional rollercoaster. The moment it starts we see even more the devastation Furious and Alvin's war has wreaked, the dragons having caused forests and cities and islands to be reduced to ash in their rage and the Alvinsmen having driven these dragons further into their rage by killing them and stoking their anger every single day.
And then there's Hiccup and i just
The poor boy ok
I look back at how young he was through the series and find having started as younger than he ever was and now being older than we ever get to see him (excluding the epilogue) it feels like I've grown up with him.
And with Fishlegs.
I may resonate with this book most bc we all have an idea of what it is to be othered by society. The loneliness Hiccup and Fishlegs face, the isolation Camicazi faces for truly her first time now standing with these two boys, and the hope for better resonates deep in me.
I love how Cressida, in all her novels, seem to center around this quote of hers from wizards of once.
"We have to trust in the children and hope for the best."
She puts so much emphasis on the childlike hope, the lack of cynicism and the reality that change IS possible if you're willing to chase it. And even if you don't see it come to fruition, it's a matter of two steps forward and one step back.
Hiccup makes it to tomorrow (literally lives another day) because of Snotlout realizing that no matter what, you can start to fight for the better. The war ended because of Snotlout's act of selfless bravery even though he never saw the end of it.
I think another reason these themes resonate with me is it also aligns with some biblical aspects. How Jesus said that children would inherit the kingdom of God, and how childlike faith is necessary.
These are definitely thoughts i wanted to tack onto book/day twelve but oh well, here we are.
I really love these books and hopefully have some musings left for book 12 tomorrow. Happy Doomsday!!
#httyd books#httyd#hiccup horrendous haddock iii#fishlegs no name#twelvedaysofdoomsday2023#httyd book art#snotface snotlout#how to betray a dragon's hero
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Here's part three of Sage in the real world!
He's starting to find his footing - although reader doesn't need to know that and reader's stressed even more now from being dumped back into things they'd forgotten, so they've got the perfect balance!
part 1, part 2
It’s easy just to lie here with sage. Not having him as stressed, but putty in my arms is a nice break from everything I’ve got to deal with. He’s surprisingly comfortable to have as a blanket; his hair is incredibly soft even with the amount of time he spends in the wild. That shower must’ve worked wonders for him, given he’s washed his hair with soap rather than just water, hopefully.
Might as well make the most of this moment while he’s willing to be this vulnerable. Even if he does seem a bit smug that I’m holding him, for whatever reason.
Nothing this peaceful can last forever, with the buzz of my phone breaking me out of it. Not a news pop-up or something that could be ignored as much as I’d prefer to block it out. A private message, about…
Oh no.
"Sage. If you’re feeling better I - we need might need to go shopping."
"Why? Why can’t we just stay like this [name]? "
"Well I uh, I might’ve forgotten that I had planned to have guests over tomorrow. So I need to get some things in to prepare."
He did not like that. At all.
Easy to tell from how he growled, his arms tightening around me; pressing his head into the crook of my neck. Acting similar to when I was reunited with the chain. When he was jealous. What reason does he have to be jealous now?
"Isn’t there a way you can cancel? I’m really not ready to meet anyone for at least a week."
"If I had more time, I would. But it’s too short notice. You can stay in a different room if you’d like, I won’t force you to be around them"
Hopefully, he doesn’t hold this against me. Was there a way I could’ve told him so he’d handle it better, with how he’s whining?
Maybe not.
"No. I’m not leaving you alone. I know we’re in your world now but I wouldn’t put it past Ganondorf to be able to replicate your friends."
"They’ll only be here for the evening, Lavender. Besides I doubt it would be worth the effort to replace so many people with puppets, is there anything that I can do to make you more comfortable with the idea of it?"
"Just… I don’t want you out of my sight [name], I can’t trust whoever your guests are. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you get hurt."
Trust issues, right. Of course he doesn't want the first person who truly cares for him as a person to leave him alone, I knew this back in Hyrule. As far as requests he could've made though, it’s pretty reasonable and easy to do for that matter. Now I’ll just have to hope that they won’t ask too many questions about him or ask the right questions to set him off.
With a nod and a gentle nudge to move him off of me, it’s time to see how he’ll react somewhere other than my house.
"We won’t have to be out long today, an hour or two at max, okay Sage? And shopping for it would be a good chance to buy you some things you'll need"
"Things I’ll need? I have you to myself. What else would I need. What kind of things are you talking about?"
How much money do I have right now? If I remember right I would’ve been paid yesterday however paying for sage now as well as myself?
There should be enough; might be time to look for a better-paid job soon, since I’ll be paying for the both of us from now on. Sage is going to hate that though; maybe I should hold off on telling him for a while. It’s not like I haven't got enough time set aside to have a few days off.
Explaining more about what life will look like here, while tugging on sage to get up may not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done but it’s something that works. He’s moving with me now towards the door, just need some shoes then we can leave.
"Basics really, some more clothes, soaps and things, maybe a phone?? If it doesn’t cost too much."
"You, you think I’m really worth doing that for? No one’s ever thought I was worth doing so much for. I’m so glad you're mine."
Did he just say what I think he did? Do I? Should I say something back? Has he noticed I froze up because of that?
"What? What do you mean by that Sage?"
"... you’re mine? You gave me your clothes, you’re letting me live with you, and you've given me a nickname. Am I not already your lover?"
He - He sees me as his partner already? It’s not like I don’t care for him but he already thinks we’re together, really? I guess in the games Mipha proposes with the zora armour, but that’s not a Hylian custom is it? And they weren’t made for him, just my old clothes. Is he going to be more convinced I’m his partner if I help him adjust?
Would I mind that?
Silence probably isn’t what Sage needed, but getting out and heading towards the shop does help to order my own thoughts about this all. After a few more moments like that, paired with a heavy sigh I finally gathered the confidence to answer him over silently dragging him to our destination.
"I never - Well I never thought you were in love with me, you’ve never mentioned you felt like that. But I wouldn’t be against a relationship like that with you."
"Good. So that makes me your husband then."
WHAT?? What the??? How long has he been assuming we’re together to think of himself like THAT?
Is he even being serious right now? He can���t be serious, can he?
I’m not sure whether to take it at face value or not, I mean who just says that at a time like this? And as determined as he did?
"So are you… just declaring that we’re a couple now, I’m fairly sure that’s not how it usually works??"
"Yes, I am. What does it matter that it’s not ‘usual’?"
Bluescreening doesn’t come close to how I feel right now. He’s actually convinced himself that we were in a romantic relationship for who knows how long and he’s only just mentioned it!?
"You - what if I’d started seeing someone else, you’d never told me you wanted to be together? What would you have done??"
"I would have dealt with them."
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? Deal with them how?
Do I even want to know?
I don’t think I do. Not with the look Sage has on his face. Murderous doesn’t even describe it. If looks could kill, then whoever my hypothetical partner was would be dead and buried several times over by now.
Wrapping his arm around my waist as we carried on walking seemed to draw him out of it though. He’s never been as terrifying before in all the time I’ve known him. Even when I was talking about the chain earlier he didn’t look as dangerous, as unhinged, as he did just then.
Can he tell I’m uncomfortable with how he’s acting? Is that why he’s holding me like this? Is it because of the stress that he’s acting like this, or have I been overlooking the real reason?
I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, he doesn’t deserve my trust in him to be broken if he’s just acting out from stress.
Either way, we’re nearly at the shops. Thankfully Sage seems to be calming down somewhat, even if he is pressing himself into my side desperate for my touch.
Just a quick trip [name]. You can do this.
#linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe#yandere linked universe x reader#link x reader#lu sage#yandere lu sage
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Chapter 7 - 50-50 Grind
Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi
Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Taglist
Pairing:Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader
Summary: We get into the mind of Choso and find that his cool, calm demeanor may be nothing more than an illusion when it comes to reader.
Warning: Smut, Oral Sex (reader receiving), Oral Sex (reader giving), Choso being super sweet, Choso being super nasty, Cumshot, Oral Cumshot, Cum Swallowing, Very Slight Cumplay (Choso), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob
Suguru Art: YuOekk
Choso Art: @DmD_0_03
A/N: Chileeee THE WRITER'S BLOCK THE WRITER'S BLOCK!!!!
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!! I hope everyone had an amazing (and safe) new year! In 2023, I'm going to try not to lie so much about when I'll be updating so instead, I just won't say anything! DLFKJSDKF
Enjoy the new year and this new chapter!
The sounds of cash registers beeping and patrons conversing amongst themselves fills the air. It’s busy this afternoon in the supermarket. It’s a good thing. Choso enjoys company, enjoys the normalcy of simply shopping for groceries. He doesn’t get the opportunity to do it much during competition season and he doesn’t particularly mind the hustle and bustle. Even though he draws attention to himself with his face tattoos and tired eyes, he finds comfort in being around people.
Choso glances down at his phone, the way too long shopping list nearly making his eyes cross as he reads through. You’re coming over for dinner with Choso and his brothers tomorrow night and apparently everything on this list is absolutely essential (according to Yuji). He grabs a few carrots as listed from the vegetable display, tucking them away into a bag before placing them in the basket hanging from his arm. He moves on to look at the herbs noted on his phone. He’s not exactly sure what all of these ingredients will become. He’s not the one cooking dinner– Yuji is.
He’d volunteered out of sheer excitement.
“Choso’s bringing someone home?! That never happens,” Yuji teases. He’s stretched out on the floor in the living room as he reads through a manga.
“Will you ever just call me big brother?” Choso sulks on the couch. “It hurts my feelings when you just call me by my name.”
Yuji ignores him. “What’s she like?!”
“Really sweet. Pretty too. Like, really pretty. She photographs for a skate magazine. That’s how we met.”
“Wow! She seems so cool.”
“She is.”
“I’m so excited! Oh! I’m gonna cook! I’ve been wanting to try this new recipe out.”
Choso smiles, thinking about you. He thinks you’re beautiful, smart, funny and talented. Your photos surprise him whenever you let him get a peek. How can you make a simple trick he’s seen done hundreds of times look different and better every time? You’re passionate. He likes that about you. A lot.
The only thing about you that Choso dislikes is the dead weight attached to you named Suguru Geto. He tries really hard not to let it bother him, but he doesn’t get it. At first, he didn’t mind so much. When you’d told him about your little “situationship” with Suguru, that didn’t matter to him. He’s never been the jealous type anyway. But the more Choso got to know you, the more Suguru’s presence in your life began to irk him.
How was he to know he’d end up feeling this way? He had no idea of knowing how serious he’d become about you. Or how quickly he’d become serious about you. He figured you’d come to your senses sooner or later, see who the better choice was. But Suguru was still sticking around like an annoying rash you couldn’t get rid of.
But he won’t get into that with Yuji right now.
“She’s great. I’m excited for you all to meet her. Hopefully everyone is on their best behavior,” Choso murmurs, face serious.
The slight warning in Choso’s tone makes Yuji sit up. “Hey! Eso’s the asshole. Worry about him. Me and Kechizu will be sooooo nice.”
Choso nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Okay, good. I’m really nervous so that’s good to hear.”
Choso was glad Yuji volunteered to cook since he loves doing it so much. Otherwise, he’d be ordering takeout. Kechizu talks too much and spits when he speaks, so he was banned from cooking a long time ago. Eso sweats so much, Choso fears he’s eaten the strange smelly goop that forms on his back at some point in time. He was banned, too. Choso can’t cook to save his life, so he sticks to making money, ordering food and keeping a roof over everyone’s head. It’s only when Yuji came to live with them, that the brothers had experienced a real home cooked meal.
It was delicious. And while Choso doesn’t insist Yuji makes dinner often, Yuji enjoys doing so. Choso appreciates that his baby brother uses his cooking skills as a way to bring the family together when time permits.
He sighs as his eyes scan over the items in the shopping basket. He’s almost finished, which is a relief to him. He wants to get back home to clean up for tomorrow. He hopes the dinner goes well, that you like his brothers and that his brothers like you.
After grabbing the last ingredient on the list, Choso waits in the checkout line to pay. He wonders what you’re doing. You’ve been busy since the last time he saw you. Today, you had plans so he would actually have to wait until tomorrow to see you.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t call you, though.
He pulls his phone from his pants, dials your number and lets it ring. You answer on the fourth.
“Hey,” you answer sweetly. He can hear the familiar sound of wheels skidding and slamming against the pavement. You must be out shooting.
“Hey, babe. I was just calling to talk for a minute. I’m at the store right now getting stuff for tomorrow. Wanted to see what you’re up to.”
There’s some rustling on your end and then it’s quiet for a bit. Choso waits patiently. You’re probably trying to get away from the ruckus.
“Sorry, it was a little loud,” you tell him. “I just finished up a shoot at one of the parks. Packing up and then I’m going to grab lunch with Suguru.”
Choso ignores the tightness in his chest from hearing his name. “Oh. Sounds fun.”
“Yeah, but I’m so tired. I’ve been out all morning so I won’t be out too long. I’ll probably go straight home after.”
“With him?” Choso blurts out before he can stop himself. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose because he probably sounds so fucking pathetic now. Worrying about you going home with a man you were seeing long before you’d met him; a man who you were open and honest about still having feelings for, still seeing. A man Choso said it was okay for you to continue seeing while you got to know each other.
Even so, he can’t help the nagging feeling of jealousy.
“No? Just me…” You’re quiet for a moment before you ask, “Are you okay?” He can hear you zipping your bags. You’ll be leaving the park soon...with Suguru. He doesn’t want to ruin your time out with friends and…him. Well, he does want to ruin your time out with friends and him, but Choso likes to think he’s a little more mature than that. So he does what any mature jealous person does – He lies.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
The cashier waves Choso forward and he sets his basket on to the checkout belt.
“You just never really ask about Suguru…I was just wondering if you’re alright.”
Choso hardly asks about Suguru because he doesn’t want to hear about Suguru. Although at some point in time he told you he was willing to wait for you to come to your senses, he sometimes wonders if you ever will.
Choso enjoys going with the flow. He’s chill, avoids drama the best he can. He’s laid back. But that doesn’t make him an idiot. He knows your history with Suguru. And he gets it…sort of. A year is a long time to have your feelings toyed with. To be dragged along for the ride, constantly pulled close only to be pushed away.
From what Choso knows, it was less about building a relationship with you and all about the sex for Suguru. But for you…you wanted so much more from him and he didn’t want to give that to you. At least, not until Choso entered the picture. It seemed suddenly the asshole had finally opened his eyes and realized how good you were. That, or he was trying to keep you from realizing you deserved better than him. Choso would bet on the latter.
Because how could Suguru have not seen it in the first place? How could he have not chosen to give you more when you’d asked the first time?
Choso thinks Suguru’s a fucking idiot, an actual monkey.
Actually, Choso’s pretty sure a monkey is smarter than Suguru at this point. Of course, he doesn’t voice this to you. You’ve got history with Suguru, no matter how shitty. He’s still the new guy in your life and he likes you a lot. He doesn’t want to ruin anything.
But fuck, he wishes you’d open your eyes to how much of a piece of shit Suguru is.
It’s easy enough for Choso to give Suguru zero energy when they’re in the same area together. It’s not like they had much communication with each other before, if any. Now it seemed Choso couldn’t escape him.
“Choso?”
“Sir?”
The cashier’s voice and yours pull him back to the present at the same time. The cashier points to the screen, the total waiting to be paid.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly to both you and the cashier. “Um, I have to go, baby. Text me later?”
“Sure. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Cool, uh…have fun.”
He ends the call, pocketing his phone and taking his wallet out so he can pay and get out of the way. He takes his receipt from the cashier before grabbing the bag of groceries and exiting the store.
----------
The next evening finds Choso frantically setting up the table for dinner. You’d be here at any moment and he wants the place to look perfect. Unfortunately, Eso and Kechizu got called into work so it would only be you, Choso and Yuji for dinner. Probably for the best. He loves his brothers, but they can be a bit much all at once. Better not to get Eso worked up anyway. The entire house would smell.
Choso’s got a bouquet of roses in a new vase in the center of the table. Yuji’s idea. He’s not sure when or how his little brother became such a romantic, but he’s grateful for any tips.
Choso doesn’t date much, doesn’t have time for it. It’s not that he’s not interested in finding someone, but his lifestyle keeps him so busy, it’s hard to find someone understanding enough to tolerate it. And then he met you. You work in his field (sort of) and you’re just as busy if not more. You understand that travel is a part of his job and there will be times when he’s unavailable. You’re patient when he’s unavailable for long periods of time. You’re what he wants in a partner in all honesty.
Yuji brings the food over and begins plating the two plates sitting next to each other. He’s so fancy in his little apron; like a real chef. Choso wonders if he gets his love and talent for cooking from his side of the family. Probably, since Choso and all of his brothers can’t cook.
The doorbell rings indicating your arrival.
“Oh, she’s here!” He exclaims, rushing back to the kitchen to put the pans away as Choso heads to the door. He swings the door open, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees you.
Damn, he missed you.
You’re standing there, all smiles too, in a cute little dress that hugs you in all the right places. You look incredible. It gets the usual reaction from Choso that he has to go above and beyond to hide any time he’s around you – a subtle, persistent throbbing between his legs. It takes a lot for him not to blatantly stare.
Instead, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Hey babe,” he greets you, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you inside.
“Hey,” you say back, gifting Choso with a shy smile.
“You look great.”
“Thank you.”
Choso’s lips are on yours as soon as the door shuts, arms looping around your waist to pull you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him forward to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth to him and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your teeth and press the soft muscle against yours. You both stand in the entryway, lips slotting against each other, Choso’s hands gliding up and down your back as he holds you close. When you moan softly into his mouth, that throbbing between his legs grows and he reluctantly breaks the kiss.
You peer up at him through your lashes, so fucking pretty it only makes the throbbing grow almost painful. So he turns away from you if only to calm himself down. It’s always like this with you. It feels like someone is playing a cruel and twisted joke on him, because he told you he had no issue waiting for sex. And he doesn’t. But fuck, you always look so good, smell so sweet. It’s hard for him to not want to break his little rule.
Choso takes a deep breath before his hand finds yours again, leading you into the apartment.
“It smells great in here,” you comment. “I’m so excited to meet your brothers.”
“Just brother. Eso and Kechizu had to work unfortunately, but Yuji is here,” Choso explains. “He actually cooked tonight.”
“Really?! Can’t wait to try it!”
When you get to the dining area, Choso pulls your seat out for you so you can sit down. It’s only as Yuji emerges from the kitchen that Choso notices the third placemat and dining set is now missing. Yuji beams when he sees you, coming to sit in the seat across from you.
“Hi! I’m Yuji.”
You introduce yourself to Yuji as well, smiling when Yuji proceeds to tell you how much Choso talks about you and how happy he looks lately. He showers you with compliments on your looks and Choso wonders where the hell all this charm came from. Certainly not from Choso’s side of the family.
“Thank you, Yuji. You’re so sweet. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Your brother talks about you all the time.”
Yuji rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “He’s just a little obsessed.”
You laugh, because you’d agree. Choso loves his brothers more than anything in this world. It’s obvious. But it’s adorable. Something you really like about him.
“He just really cares about you. That’s all.”
“You’re not eating with us?” Choso asks suddenly, probably sounding a lot more disappointed about it than he intended.
Yuji smiles sadly. “Sorry, big bro. Nobara and Fushiguro invited me out while I was cooking. I didn’t want to say anything before but…” he looks between you and Choso. “If I had to choose between third wheeling with my friends or you two, I’m gonna choose them.”
Choso doesn’t miss how Yuji just so happens to use the nickname he’s always begging his little brother to call him. It’s his weak spot and Yuji knows it, knows he’ll get away with anything as long as he calls Choso his big bro.
Choso nods. “Have fun. Don’t stay out too late or I’ll send Eso to get you.”
Yuji scowls, muttering about how embarrassing Eso is before he stands. His expression shifts into a grin and he claps his hands together. “I really put my all into this dinner so I hope you both enjoy! Eat it while it’s hot! It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too, Yuji. Have fun with your friends.”
The front door closes shortly after. Choso sighs, taking your hand in his.
“I’m sorry,” he frowns. “I said you’d meet my brothers and all plans fell through.”
You reach a hand forward and cup Choso’s face, your thumb gently caressing over the tattooed line on that side. “Choso, it’s okay. As long as I get to spend time with you, I don’t mind.”
Choso beams, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “You’re too good to me.”
You shake your head. “You’re too good to me.”
----------
Dinner goes well. The food is spectacular. Choso can’t wait to tell Yuji how much you enjoyed the food. You and Choso in deep discussion while washing dishes together about the third Cheetah Girls movie and why it’s your least favorite, save for a few songs. It’s oddly domestic. He has many opinions on the breakup of the group, but promises to save that discussion for later.
Choso talks about his competitions, you congratulating him on how well he’s been doing. It makes his cheeks burn red with embarrassment and happiness all at the same time. He offers to show you his trophies once you’re finished cleaning up and you happily accept the invitation.
After drying the last dish, Choso leads you to his bedroom to show you some of his favorite competition wins. They line the built-in wall shelves. Choso grabs the trophy he’d won at the televised event where he’d essentially confessed to you on live tv from the shelf.
You take a seat on the edge of Choso’s bed, as he wanders over with it. He watches as you bring your arms above your head, stretching your back and Choso has to turn his gaze away from you briefly. You make the most mundane actions look so enticing and it drives him crazy how much he wants you. He wants more than just kisses, more than just holding hands.
Choso clears his throat before he turns his gaze back to you and holds the trophy up. “I think this one’s my favorite,” he tells you. “For obvious reasons.”
You smile bashfully. “I think that’s my favorite, too.”
He places the trophy back in its spot before he crosses the room again and sits next to you on his bed, leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. You place your hand on Choso’s thigh, patting lightly and his bodily response is immediate, the earlier throbbing now making its presence known again. Choso sits up quickly, clearing his throat.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks and you nod, closing the distance with an “of course” before your lips are on his. The hand on his thigh runs gently along the length of his quad, making his breaths come a little more rapidly with each kiss. Choso’s large hand comes up to grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. It’s hungry, all tongue and soft sighs into each other's mouths as your lips caress.
When you finally pull away, Choso finds himself chasing your lips with a quiet whimper.
“Thank you so much for dinner, Choso. Everything was great and I had a really good time,” you tell him.
Choso leans forward, presses his forehead to yours. “You sound like you’re about to head out.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you whisper and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice.
“Baby,” he mutters softly. “You could never.” He ghosts his lips over yours, placing soft pecks to the corners of your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. I like having you here.”
“Choso…” you breathe against him, the hand on his thigh squeezing gently. “If I stay…”
He trails kisses along your jaw, featherlight, so soft you can barely feel it. And yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath. “If you stay?”
You sigh, pulling back. You’re no doubt trying to change the subject with some excuse to run out of here. “I’m just really tired. Prepping for this shoot has been draining the shit out of me. Tonight has been amazing. I just don’t want to bring the mood down with how stressed I am.”
Choso hums, nodding, eyes now fixed on the spot where your hand rests. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
The pause is long as he awaits your answer, the heat of your hand radiating through the fabric of Choso’s pants and making the throbbing between his legs even worse, if possible. You watch Choso closely, eyes following where his dark orbs are focused on.
“I don’t know…” you mutter softly, fingers lightly squeezing Choso’s thigh. He bites back the low groan threatening to escape. His gaze drifts up to your glossed lips.
“Well, how do you usually relieve stress?” Choso asks, the heat quickly pooling in his center as your hand coasts along his thigh.
You give him a knowing look, biting down on your bottom lip. He understands.
“I have an idea,” He responds quietly, shifting on the bed.
“What’s your idea?”
He wants to kiss you again, feel your mouth against his. He always wants to kiss you. Ever since he met you, it’s been all he’s done. Of course Choso wants to do more with you. He fantasizes about it. But he told you he’d wait for you to make a choice first. He didn’t want to make you feel like he only wanted sex from you, the way he made you feel.
But, while sex isn’t the only thing he wants, he does want it. When he sees the tip of your pink tongue dart out to swipe across your bottom lip, he can only hope you’re both thinking the same thing.
“I want you,” he blurts out, unable to hold back his honesty.
“Choso…” you sigh his name and it only makes him want you more. “ I want you, too.”
“I know I said there’s no rush for sex, but it doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.”
You bite your lip again, eyes searching Choso’s. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but for purely selfish reasons if I’m being honest.”
You cock your head to the side in confusion.
“Making you feel good will make me feel good,” he explains.
You nod, giving Choso the green light. “Okay.”
He scoots back to lay on his bed, pulling you along with him. “Come here, baby,” he coaxes as he lays down on his back. His hands find your hips, positioning you so that you’re straddling his chest.
“Closer,” Choso says, his thumbs tracing circles on your hips.
“Okay,” you murmur, scooting forward until your plush thighs are on either side of his head. His hands slide down your hips, to the hem of your dress that’s already ridden up enough that Choso can catch a peek of your panties.
“Can I?” He asks, pinching the hem of the fabric between his fingers.
“Yes, Choso,” you pant in anticipation.
He peels your dress up, getting a full view of your core. Your panties hug your pussy so nicely, a small wet spot from your arousal forming right in the center. Choso wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, have you crying out his name over and over, give you everything you want and more. But instead he turns his head to the side and presses a tender kiss to the inside of one of your thighs, then turns his head to do the same to the other. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes Choso pause.
“Is this okay?”
You nod, your hand coming down to comb your fingers through his hair. It makes him shiver, makes his cock stiffen further. “It’s fine. I’m fine, Choso. Make me feel good.”
Fuck, the reassurance only makes him harder, lets him know he doesn’t need to hold back anymore. But he still nods, wraps his arms around your lush thighs, squeezing softly.
He kisses your thighs again, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a soft peck directly to that dark little wet spot. He chuckles when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh.
“You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he kisses your center again. “All for me,” he mutters against your undergarments.
Choso pulls back, eyes locked to that sweet spot spreading along the fabric of your panties when he whispers a soft, “Let me take care of you,” and then he’s pulling you down by your thighs, meeting you halfway to latch his hot mouth directly onto your clothed pussy.
A mixture of your moans and Choso’s fill the room, the vibrations shooting straight to your clit. You gasp, rolling your hips forward to grind yourself against Choso’s face, a soft moan rushing past your lips. He lets you ride his tongue, his saliva soaking through the fabric. You taste incredible and he hasn’t even truly experienced you yet.
“Oh my god,” you whine before Choso halts your movements with his hands. He runs his tongue over your panties, long and slow, his hips bucking into the air when the fingers in his hair tighten into a fist, your other hand finding purchase on his headboard. He presses his nose into the center of your panties and inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your sweet aroma fills his senses.
“Fuck, I bet this pussy tastes so good without this in the way.”
You whimper above Choso as he hooks a finger into your panties and pulls them to the side, groaning softly when he finally gets a good look at your cunt, glistening with the mixture of your slick and his saliva. It’s prettier than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants a taste.
His free hand squeezes your thigh lightly just as Choso pushes his tongue between your folds and runs a hot, languid lick up your core. He feels your body shudder above him, his own body following when he finally gets a full taste of you. He gives your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly, unable to keep his hips from thrusting up again when you gasp above him. He moans, the vibration leaving you panting.
“Shit! So good, Choso, that’s so good.”
“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit until you’re grinding your own hips down on him.
“Yes, yes, yes! Don’t stop.”
He groans, hands squeezing your thighs to spread them further open for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over until you’re a whimpering mess above him. You taste better than he could’ve ever imagined – saccharinely sweet. He pulls you forward, your hips bucking when his tongue slips into your entrance. He can feel your walls clench in response, groaning when your knees tighten on each side of his head.
The grip in his hair loosens, your other arm shooting up to grab hold of the headboard with both hands to keep from falling over. Choso thrusts his tongue into your hole, moaning when he feels you moving your hips on your own, fucking yourself on his mouth.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cry out.
Choso pulls out of your hole, moving his mouth to wrap his soft lips around your clit again, sucking hard.
"Oh, Choso," you mewl, the new sensation making your grip on the headboard loosen, falling forward onto your hands. The new position gives Choso much better access, his hands letting go of your thighs to cup your ass. With one hand, he spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your sopping hole.
“Fuuuuuck,” Choso moans into your cunt when he feels your tight pussy clench down on his fingers. He loves making you feel good, having you moaning and whining but, goddamn, he’s so hard, he’s thrusting into the air, trying and failing to find any sort of friction. It’s torturous. He can feel his erection, painful and sticky in his pants. He’ll definitely have to take care of himself after you’re gone.
Choso curls his fingers, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head.
“You close?” He asks before pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit just as he curls his digits inside you again.
You don’t even get a chance to answer him, your hands tugging his sheets as they ball into fists. The only sounds that can be heard are your hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Choso’s face along with the lewd slurping of Choso’s mouth as he laps up your release. You’re coming undone, walls clenching around his fingers, as your body spasms with your orgasm.
And Choso waits, pumping his fingers into you and gently licking through your folds until he finally feels you relax above him. He pulls his digits out of you, placing a soft kiss to your swollen cunt before he pulls your panties back into place and helps you scoot down his torso until you’re seated on his groin.
You’re watching him close, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, pupils blown with desire. Choso brings his fingers up to his face, spreading and closing them like a pair of scissors, watching the sticky strings of your slick spread between them. His eyes stay locked with yours as he opens his mouth and slides his fingers in, wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean. He lets them go with a loud pop.
“You taste fucking amazing,” he groans, his hips coming up to grind against your ass.
Your head cocks to the side when you feel his hardness against you. “Looks like you need someone to make you feel good, too.” You suggest, leaning forward to place sweet kisses down Choso’s cheek, his neck and chest. You kiss all the way down his abs and the fire in Choso’s belly grows as you get closer to your destination.
He watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his pants and pull them off. He moans when you lean forward and press those pretty fucking lips to his throbbing, clothed cock and it’s involuntary, the way his hips come up on reflex.
He groans quietly, watching your lips curl up in a small smirk. You already know the effect you have on him without doing much at all. Minx.
Your eyes lock with Choso’s, hands finding the waistband of his boxers right before you press another hot and tender kiss to his core, Choso’s back arching at the contact.
“Fuck.”
Keep doing that and he’s going to cum in his pants. At this moment he wouldn’t mind. It would be a welcome relief. He’d just have to hope you’d understand if it came to that. You’re just so sexy; a seductress when you want to be. How could he not blow his load when he’s got the perfect view of you right now settled between his legs? Face down, ass up in the air, back arched so he can see those beautiful round cheeks of yours. He kind of regrets opting for not going all the way tonight because he’d love to feel that little pussy contract around his dick like it just did on his tongue not that long ago.
The thought makes his cock jump within the confines of his underwear.
Gaze still glued to Choso’s, you tug lightly at the waistband of his boxers before your soft voice asks, “Can I?”
He doesn’t think about it for a second.
“Do whatever you want,” he tilts his hips up, letting you slide his boxers off for him. “It’s yours, baby.”
His cock springs free with a loud smack against his lower belly. It’s long, thick, with a large vein running right up the underside until it reaches the angry red tip. The entire length is sticky, precum slathered over it. You settle yourself between his legs again as you take in the sight of him exposed to you.
“I want to make you feel good, too.”
You take his length into your mouth before he can argue, your lips closing around the head. “Ah– shit,” Choso grunts, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. From here, Choso thinks he has the perfect view of you. It turns him on beyond measure and he jerks his hips forward, shoving his cock further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Sorry, fuck. I’m sorry.” He moans, pulling out of your mouth.
You shake your head, waving off his concern. “It’s okay, Choso. I like it.”
You’re back on his dick, humming when Choso fills the cavern of your mouth, the vibrations making him shiver. His hand finds the back of your head again, Choso rolling his hips up so he can shove his cock down your throat again, over and over. And you take it so good, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy.
“Your mouth feels amazing,” Choso grunts, pumping into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your chin makes his eyes roll back, a pleasure shooting straight up his spine.
It feels so fucking good. Too fucking good.
Yeah, he’s not going to last very long here.
You release his dick, running your tongue along that vein on the underside of his cock, pulling a string of curses from Choso. You lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit of his cock with your tongue, lapping up the bead of precum that sits there.
"Fuck!"
You kiss down the length of his dick, bringing your attention to his balls, running your tongue right between the two orbs before bringing one into your mouth and sucking. Your hand wraps around Choso’s length, stroking him up and down.
A liquid heat pools in Choso’s core, the threat of his orgasm quickly approaching. He doesn’t want to cum yet. He’s been wanting this for a long time, to be intimate in more ways than just kissing and cuddling. It feels way too good. He wants to savor this. But damn, if you keep going like this–
You wrap your lips around Choso’s cock, taking his entire length in your mouth in one motion. The sudden tight warmth makes Choso’s back arch, has his hands flying to the back of your head to hold you in place.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Don’t move, baby,” he pants, holding your face to his groin so he can fuck your throat. And then you open your throat for him, relaxing for just a moment before you constrict around his cock and the sensation that shoots through Choso’s dick makes him pull you back. You let go with an obnoxious pop as Choso grabs the base of his dick.
He can’t stave it off, not when he sees your swollen lips, your tear stained cheeks, the line of drool dangling from your chin.
“Fuck, baby, I can’t. I’m–I’m gonna cum,” he warns.
You lean forward, opening your mouth, tongue hanging out in invitation. “Give it to me, Choso. I want your cum, baby. Gimme all of it.”
God, you’re so fucking sexy.
He feels his balls tighten, feels the rush in the palm of his hand as he pumps his cock, his free hand coming to hold the back of your head in position before thick, hot spurts of his cum shoot from the tip and paint your tongue white with his seed.
“Oh god,” he groans through gritted teeth. He keeps pumping, watching as you quickly put your tongue back in your mouth and swallow before you stick it back out for him. It’s so much cum and you take it all, swallowing without him even asking you to. Even wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking so you don’t waste a drop.
“You’re so good to me,” Choso whispers when he’s finally emptied his load on your tongue. Breaths coming rapidly, he watches you climb along the length of his body until you’re face to face. He can smell his release on your breath, and then he’s tasting it when you press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, moaning when he tastes the mixture of his release and yours on his tongue.
“Thank you,” you say after breaking the kiss. “I feel a lot better now.”
Choso chuckles, running his hands along your spine. “Good. Me, too.”
----------
You’re both sitting in the bath Choso has run for you, Choso positioned behind you as he gently lathers your shoulders. You’ll be heading home after this, but Choso wanted to treat you to more relaxation before you left. He also wanted an excuse to spend more time with you because the next time he’d see you would likely be the photoshoot. And as exciting as that was, he had a nagging feeling things would be tense.
“In all seriousness, how are you feeling now?” Choso asks, gently splashing water over your shoulders to rinse the soap off. Your hands swirl the bubbles around in the bath.
“Better. Still a little stressed, but that’s to be expected with everything that goes into prepping for these shoots. Then there’s you and Suguru…”
You cut yourself off.
“What about us?”
“I’m just worried how it’ll go with you both there.”
Choso nods in understanding. He quietly mulls over his thoughts.
“You and Suguru haven’t really been around each other for long periods of time before. These shoots take hours and I just don’t want things to be weird between you two.”
“Did you have this talk with Suguru, too?” He questions, curiously. He should really be the one you're worried.
You nod, leaning back against Choso’s chest. “Of course. He’s the one I’m most worried about causing a scene…That was why we went to lunch together the other day – to talk about this. He’s really not good with his emotions, but he promised to behave. Said he’s working on accepting that he’s not my only priority anymore.”
Choso chuckles, placing a light kiss to the back of your neck. “Oh? Who else has your attention? Should I be jealous?”
You laugh lightly. “Please. You don’t strike me as the jealous type.”
‘You don’t know me very well, then,’ Choso thinks.
The fact that Suguru gets even a crumb of your undeserved attention drives Choso insane. You’re a toy to him, something for him to keep in his back pocket when he’s bored and needs something to preoccupy his time. He’s not sure how you don’t see it. You’ve mistaken familiarity and comfort with love. It makes sense after suffering through Suguru’s antics for so long.
All this time, Choso’s been passive, playing the long game while Suguru makes an ass of himself time and time again, hoping you’ll see him for the piece of shit he is. But nothing changes. Choso watches and waits, just going with the flow until you finally come to your senses and make the right choice – him. But nothing changes.
Choso leans down, burying his nose in your hair before he places a sweet kiss to your temple.
He won’t sit back anymore.
In this moment of relaxation before everything goes to shit, Choso wraps his arms around you and he decides it’s time to fight.
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Bound | Chapter 4
Word Count: 4.9K
Warnings: implied/referenced SA, trauma, trauma responses, mentions of death, torture, mentions of DV
Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could've hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?
A/N: So, I noticed that the time span of Rosalie's kills take around a year according to Midnight Sun (which I have yet to read) which is why the timeline won't match up very well, but I think it still works... maybe... hopefully. Sorry it took so long to update this story, I honestly did not have time to keep writing it for a bit. This was meant to come out yesterday but I fell asleep 🫣🫣
Also, to any and all survivors of SA that you are not alone and what happened to you is not your fault, it never will be. I hope you have healed or are healing. And if you ever just need an ear to listen, I am here. 🤍
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Three months had passed since the night that changed Rosalie’s life for eternity, and the Hubert brothers had been found dead. Two, since Ulysses Levitt ran out of town with a girl his family would have never approved, and the body of John Harris was found in his hotel room, asphyxiated and with a broken neck.
Word had spread through the town of a killer that was taking the lives of prominent young figures. They had ransacked through two families already, and it was rumored they had taken the Levitt son hostage, regardless of the letter left. It made families hold their young ones closer to them, hypervigilant of their every move. No one wanted their child to be next. No one wanted to weep for their child. Not even for them to go missing.
Because none of them knew that they had nothing to worry about.
Well, other than the King family. The royal family of Rochester, New York, would suffer a great loss that night at the hands of who would have been their greatest acquisition. She would take his life into her hands the way he had done with hers. He would clamor for mercy, beg for forgiveness, plead for another chance. And she would laugh in his face.
There weren’t many places Royce could hide in that Rosalie would not have found him. He could have hidden a thousand feet underground, and she would have carved at the ground with her own hands until she got to him. He would not get away from her without paying for what he had done. She was judge, jury, and executioner, and she would make sure his sentence was fulfilled.
In the Cullen residence, the other three vampires walked on eggshells around Rosalie. The anger that radiated from the girl was hot enough that any closeness could leave them burned. Even if their words and worries came from a place of concern –at least from Carlisle and Esme– she did not want to hear them. All she had time for was her revenge. There was nothing else she had to look forward to.
She didn’t want to be angry. It was an all-consuming emotion that she did not wish to impart on the family that had “rescued” her.
“Good morning, Rosalie,” Esme called the girl’s attention as she readied herself for the day. “How are you feeling today?”
“As well as I can be while my rapist’s heart still beats,” she shrugged, brushing the golden curls in her hair. “Apart from that, I guess not worse than I felt yesterday.”
“That’s good, I think,” the woman offered a smile. “Hopefully tomorrow is better.”
“Oh, it will be. Once Royce gets what’s coming for him, the universe will balance itself out. After that… well, we’ll see when we get there.”
Esme remained quiet for a moment, weighing whether or not her words were welcomed in the blonde’s space. The last thing the woman wanted was to make something snap inside the girl. She was already fragile as it was, even if she wouldn’t allow herself to be, and Esme didn’t want to be the drop of water that made her cup overflow. “May I offer you some words?” she asked against her better judgment.
“If you’re trying to get me to see how wrong it is to take a life, please save your breath,” she responded, holding in her laughter at the irony of her sentence. “Carlisle and Edward have tried, and I can tell you there is nothing you can say that will make me desist from my plan.”
“Well,” Esme sighed with a smile on her face. “Then, can I tell you about my story? I can’t say that I lived through the horrors of what you did, but I did have my own monster.” The blonde simply nodded in approval, her attention fully on the woman before her. “I didn’t envision my life turning out this way, much like you. When I was younger, I dreamed of being a school teacher. I wanted to mold the minds of my students and help them navigate this crazy world. But my parents wanted me to be the perfect wife. They wanted me to stay home and marry. And I did. I thought then that my life would be better. That’s what my parents had promised, so that’s what I believed.
“Yet, the man that I married became the monster in the fairytale my parents had designed. He was abusive. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He made me feel like I had no escape. And my parents perpetuated that behavior. They told me to keep it quiet. That no one in town would ever believe that he could do anything like that,” the woman continued. Rosalie could tell how difficult it was to tell her story. She could see the fear flashing in her eyes and the tremble in her hands as she felt the ghosts of her past creeping up her neck. And she wondered if that was the way she would look. Regardless of her impenetrable body, anyone would be able to see the pain plastered on her face. “There was some solace when the Great War passed. He was drafted, and I had months of peace. I learned that you don’t know how deep in the chaos you have gotten until you see a way out. Deep down, I hoped he never returned. It was easier to be a widow than to live the rest of my life in fear.
“But, much to my dismay, he came back once the war had ended. I knew my sentence was until death did us part. Until I became pregnant a few months after his return, and there was a new life to fight for,” Esme said. “I ran as far as I could. I needed to protect my baby, and I couldn’t do that if I was dead. He found me the first time, though. So, I ran again. For some time, I even became a teacher. For the first time in so many years, I was happy. I had fulfilled my childhood dream, and I was building my own family. But all of that ended when my baby died only two days after being born. I had changed my entire life for my son, and he had been ripped away from me in just 48 hours. With him gone, I had nothing left to live for. And well, after all that, Carlisle changed me.
“I will say that I assimilated to this life quickly. It was easy when the alternative had been so horrendous for me. But, the reason I’m telling you this is not because I just wanted you to hear my sorrowful story,” she chuckled softly. “A couple of years after I was changed, Edward grew rebellious. We didn’t have a bad life, much less a bad relationship. But he was only a year younger than you are when he was turned, and he was growing angsty with our way of life, especially our diet. He went on a rampage, finding the worst of the worst among humans using his ability. He only returned to us two years ago. But he told me who his first victim had been. It had been my ex-husband. He told me how he made sure he suffered, that he yelled for mercy, and pleaded to God to save him.
“It should have made me feel better that he was gone. That he couldn’t hurt anyone any longer, for the world had to be a better place without another monster walking in its midst. I did feel relief for a second that he could not get to anyone else, but it didn’t really matter. He had still hurt me, and his being dead didn’t change that. All I could do was try and move past it. Not forgetting what he did to me, but learning to live with it,” she explained. Esme approached Rosalie, taking her hands in hers and staring deeply into the red eyes before her. “Killing Royce won’t stop the hurt from taking over your heart, Rosalie, just as I know that killing those other four men hasn’t satiated the ire inside you.”
“Even if it won’t fix what they tore inside me, I can make sure it doesn’t happen to any other woman. At least, the ones that would have fallen victim to them if they weren’t dead,” Rosalie said through gritted teeth. There were no tears to hold back, as much as she wanted them. She wanted them to make her eyes burn with anticipation, and she couldn’t almost remember that feeling and trick herself that it was happening. But the stream never came. “I cannot let him walk free on this earth after seeing just how well he can hide the kind of monster he is. If he was going to marry me and he did what he did, I don’t want to imagine what he would do to a woman he doesn’t even know. I’m not doing this to heal anything inside me or because I am seeking inner peace. I am doing this so they can never do this again.”
Esme knew there was nothing she could say that would deter Rosalie from finishing her plan. Instead of drowning with more words, she simply smiled and told her she understood. Before leaving the girl be, she turned and said, “You should take a stroll through the garden. This summer the nightshade has sprouted beautifully.”
Rosalie stared at herself in the mirror, and the vision that stared back at her startled her. Dressed in a strikingly white dress that was as close as possible to the one she had picked out with her mother was unsettling. Much more knowing that to that day, she should have been already three months married… or three months dead.
But she was neither.
No. Her blood-red eyes reminded her that she was not married and she was stuck in a land that was not quite living but not quite dead. She was stuck as she was in a world that was no longer hers for the taking. Still, if there was one thing that was still hers, it was the ability to taste Royce’s death already.
She had found his hideout rather quickly. He had trapped himself in the basement of an abandoned bank building that was still under his family’s possession. Little did he know that in his hiding, he had given her the perfect place to rid the world of the monster he was. His soul would forever be trapped somewhere that perfectly represented him –cold, dark, and made just for money.
Everything was already going to plan. The crate of whiskey had been delivered on time and sent directly into the vault with food and other necessities. All she needed to do was wait it out for an hour. Sixty minutes to allow the paranoia to set in, for the hallucinations to fester, for all the pain and discomfort to rip its way across his body. She would allow the little plant to set her stage because she would be the main act that day.
Rosalie waited until she could not wait any longer. Until she knew his mind would have started its descent into madness. She wanted him to be trembling in his skin before she made her grand entrance.
From the bank's main lobby, she could hear Royce’s racing heart, his breathing heave, and his frantic steps. It would have been the most intoxicating song had her heart not been filled with dark hatred. His suffering meant nothing to her until it was her own hands inflicting the pain. She had to get into that room sooner rather than later.
Though Royce was her main target, she needed to get past the two men that guarded the vault door. Innocent souls that had to be reaped because of the sins of a monster. Her parents had taught her the just paid for the guilty. And in matters of love and war, all was fair. That afternoon, two souls would join the five that had shredded her own. She would grant them a quick and painless death, and go on with the rest of the plan.
And so, she snapped the men’s necks and laid them on the floor. She closed their eyes and prayed to whatever higher power that was out there to forgive their trespasses, granting them safe passage into the afterlife. There wasn’t much she believed in anymore, but she needed to believe that at least the innocent made their way to something better.
With those men out of the way, Rosalie could finally accomplish what she had to do. It’s showtime, she told herself. No turning back now.
The door wasn’t locked, only put together to give Royce the semblance of security. Not that it would have mattered. Supernatural strength and speed allowed it not to matter. Without even knowing it, Royce had written his death sentence the second he had left her for dead.
“No. No. No. No,” she heard him mutter. “It’s not my fault. It’s not. I didn’t do it.”
Delirium. Truly perfect.
“Honey,” she smiled as she burst through the door, making the entire building tremble under her strength. “I’m home.”
“No, God, please,” Royce cried as he cowered in a corner, his eyes growing as big as saucers at the vision before him. Locked inside that room, he had felt he had started to go crazy. Hidden in the shadows lived the person that had haunted his friends and was haunting him now. He knew whoever it had been was bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. What he had not expected was to see her. “How are you here? How are you showing her to me?”
“I am not a mirage, dear Royce,” Rosalie said, smoothing down her gown. It dragged behind her as she walked, the sound of the fabric swishing on the ground mixing beautifully with the sound of his racing heart. “I am actually here. Standing before you as I would have months ago.”
“But you died… I mean, you had to have died.”
“Oh, I did,” Rosalie sighed. She crossed the room elegantly, taking in how it had been transformed. An elegant bed was pressed against one of the walls, the sheets perfectly done as though no one had ever dared sleep on them. Truly, the entire place had been decorated to portray a luxury suite, like the ones in the many hotels the King family frequented. Beautiful and expensive. Much like the armchair she sat on to face the man directly. “You see, I stand before you today completely dead. Well… technically undead. I’m living, but I’m not alive, Royce. I’m what you might call a vampire now.”
“That’s not… no. That’s not possible!” Royce exclaimed, trembling. The bottle he held in his hands spilled with every shake of his limbs, soaking his shirt. “You’re a ghost. The same one that’s been haunting me for months.”
“I know you wish that were true, Royce. Because maybe then I wouldn’t be able to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” he said as he cowered deeper into the corner of the room. “Why would you hurt me?”
“Oh, Royce. I knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I didn’t think you’d be this cretinous,” she scoffed. “Do you really think I’m here just to say goodbye? Darling, I’m here to do so much worse. I’ve already started, actually.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Well, I’m sure you can feel the way your heart is racing, how your skin has gotten clammy, and how your brain is all delirious. That was a little gift from me,” she grinned devilishly, examining the perfection of her cuticles. “I know how you can’t resist a glass of whiskey no matter the time of day, and I knew you had a few scheduled shipments of bottles. So, with the help of a beautiful blue flower and absentminded delivery boys, I was able to slip some deadly nightshade into those bottles. Hence, the reaction from your body and your delusions.”
“You poisoned me? How could you, Rosalie? I don’t deserve this.”
“Oh no, you don’t get to speak my name,” Rosalie spat. In a matter of a second, she had killed any distance between them “My name is the only thing you will never have possession of. Not anymore. And to think you have the audacity to question what you deserve.”
“But I don’t, R… I don’t deserve this,” he cried as the girl balled his shirt in her hands. “I made one mistake.”
“What you and your friends did was no mistake, Royce. It was a deliberate and brutal robbery of my innocence, of my life. It was a testament to your true character and the monster that lay beneath sheep’s clothing,” she seethed. “The worst part of it all is that I would have lived with your sins had you simply given me the life I had dreamed of. I would have let you drink until your belly was full of nothing but liquor and beer. I would have let you cheat as long as you came home to me. I would have let you take everything as long as I had my children to care for. And what a waste of a life that would have been.”
Fat tears fell from the man’s eyes, connecting with the slobber of boogers that escaped his nose, and it disgusted Rosalie to be so close to him. But it was the dangerously fast pace of his heart that thrilled her. It was the perspiration on his skin that edged her on. It was the unnatural dilation of his pupils that made her want to dance in victory.
She knew he was in pain. She knew that his body wanted nothing more than to reject the poison of the deadly nightshade, but it would never be able to. Not while she was there, witnessing the demise of the worst kind of monster.
Royce pleaded under his breath, trying to appeal to the human side of Rosalie without understanding that the part he was begging to had died that night. The humanity left inside her dwindled as she stared at the pitiful man. She couldn’t imagine a world where she had ended up with him. At least, for that, she was grateful.
“You‘ll never find love,” Royce suddenly spat, a sudden rage boiling inside him, giving him enough energy to yell at her. “Not as the abomination that you are.”
“And what is that, Royce?” She said through gritted teeth. “Because the person I thought I loved was you.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he barked. “Don’t think I don’t know about your inclinations. I saw you with my own eyes.”
“Whatever you think you might have seen will go with you in death. At least you’ll have that memory then to keep you company.”
“The title of murderer is less vile than the other name. You’re lucky I took pity on you and showed you what you were missing out on.”
“Pity? You took pity on me?” Rosalie took hold of his shirt, lifting him from the ground as though he weighed no more than a dress. “You destroyed me. You defiled me. You took my life. Whatever it is that you think you may know about me did not give you the right to do any of that.”
“I saved you first from a lifetime of embarrassment,” Royce choked, his voice trembling as fear overtook him. “Your lifestyle would have gotten you killed regardless.”
“The only lifestyle that killed me was the one where I chose you,” she spat. “You did this to me, Royce. And now you have to pay.”
She let him drop to the ground to cower into the corner. One second, the man was back to crying and begging. The next, he was clutching at his chest and groaning in pain. “Please stop this,” he groaned. His heart had started running at a desperate pace, trying its best to pump blood to his body. But his arteries were contracting as the seconds passed, and his body would start shutting down soon after. “I know you can. Just please, I promise I’ll be better. Just give me a chance.”
“You had a chance, Royce. This life. This was your chance, and you wasted it. You decided to use your one chance to be a despicable man —driven by your greediness and your ego. You could have led a long and beautiful life, but you weren’t satisfied. You wanted more and more until there was nothing left to take. Now, you won’t take anything from anyone else.”
“Please,” he sobbed, but his words came out slurred as the poison kept rushing through his bloodstream. A rash had started peeking through his clothes, burning it way through his skin. He couldn’t choose between scratching at the patches or clutching at his chest, his entire body quickly starting to betray him. “I don’t wanna die.”
“Funny,” she laughed. “I didn’t either.”
Royce didn’t take long to deteriorate. His body was already weak from a diet of fear and whiskey—and the lethal amount of nightshade that she had injected in the bottles. He had gravitated onto his bed, barely hanging on to the little life that was left in him. His lungs wheezed and his skin reddened, his limbs spasmed and his lips trembled, and his eyes never left hers.
And she stared back.
“Soon enough, you will stop breathing,” she sighed. “I’m sure you can barely feel your arms and your legs. Just like I know you’re trying your hardest to take in a single breath. Isn’t it terrifying? To lay there and feel your life slipping through your fingers, all because someone else decided that you weren’t worthy of your own life.”
“P… ple… please,” he managed to croak out. Tears stained his face, mixing with the sweat on his skin. “H-h-help… m-me.”
“It’s too late, Royce,” she smiled deviously. “Don’t you get it by now? You are dying today. You will lay there and suffer and beg. And then, you will die. Not because it’s justice for what you did to me. But because no one else in this Earth will ever have to meet a monster like you. And I will stay and watch until you take your last breath.”
And so, he begged. Royce begged until the lack of oxygen forced his eyes shut.
And Rosalie watched. She watched until he took his last, wheezing breath.
Once she could not hear his heart beating anymore, she spared him one last close-up glance. She stood over him and looked over his corpse, wondering who it would be that would find his body. What would they think happened? The easiest explanation would be a heart attack, but the bodies in front of the vault would paint a different story. It wasn’t because she was worried she’d be caught –there was no way she ever would be– but rather because she wondered what plot would be spun to glorify Royce’s life and condemn his killer. And she was absolutely certain they would never believe a woman had been the one to kill him, let alone the other six men.
“Rot in hell, Royce,” Rosalie whispered against his ear. “Say hi to your friends for me.”
The girl thought she had merely spent an hour or two inside the bank, but as she slipped back into the alley, she noticed that the morning had come and gone, and the moon had started to peek its way out on the horizon. She quickly changed out of the wedding dress, ripping it from her skin as if it was suffocating her. Her lungs ached for a breath they didn’t need as something deep inside her snapped. It seemed that Esme had been right. Killing Royce didn’t make her feel better, but it had satiated her conscience. He could not hurt anyone else.
Rosalie placed a hat on her head to conceal her face as she walked through the barely crowded streets of her home. Whispers on the street spoke of the demented killer that had taken the lives of four young men. Even if it had been a while since he had killed, everyone knew he was still out there. She had expected that much. The fear of the unknown was enough to rattle an entire town, and after Royce, it would be the only topic on everyone’s tongues for a long time.
What she had not expected was to come face to face with a picture of herself.
Taped to a lamp post was her last photograph taken with the words MISSING in bold on top of it. Under, a brief description of who she had been was printed, her family calling for any information regarding the whereabouts of their daughter. But that didn’t strike her as odd. She knew her family would be worried—had been worried for months.
No. It was the small message posted under her family’s plea that made her stop in her tracks, a sudden wave of sadness numbing her limbs. She ran her pale fingers over the withered paper as though she could hear the voice if she touched the words.
Please help bring our Rosie home, the message read. There are people here who love her more than sunflowers love the sun.
There was no need for a signature for Rosalie to know exactly who’d had that message printed. She ripped the message from the page, folding it into the bag she had buried the wedding dress in, careful not to wrinkle the paper.
Her heart wrenched inside her chest as she remembered the last time she had seen this person. The last time she ever would.
Only a week before her wedding, Vera had told her how much she wished Rosalie a long and happy life. As the blonde carried Henry in her arms, her friend placed a soft hand into hers, squeezing comfortingly as she smiled.
“You deserve happiness, Rosie,” she had said that afternoon. “I just wish…”
“There’s no point in wishing,” Rosalie sighed, her eyes transfixed by the baby in her arms. She had been afraid to look Vera in the eyes —the beautiful gemstone eyes she had adored. “You have your family. And I’m on track to have mine. It is all we ever dreamed of.”
“But it was supposed to look like this,” Vera had sighed. “Not quite like how it really is.”
“We knew from the start that it would end this way, V. This is just the world we live in. At least this way, we can still be in each other’s lives.”
“Even with all your high-class parties and important people to attend?” she had joked. “You really think you’ll have time for me.”
“Always,” Rosalie had smiled. “Forever.”
“Really? You mean that?”
“Does a sunflower love the sun?”
Now, she had all the time in the world. So much time it could never run out. But there was not a second more she would be able to spend with Vera or with Henry. She’d never again brush away the little boy’s dark curls as they fell in front of his eyes. She’d never again hear Vera calling her name as she laughed. She’d never have everything she wanted —anyone she wanted.
After what felt like a lifetime of staring at her own face, Rosalie straightened out her dress and made her way back to the Cullen residence as though nothing had happened. She cleared her mind of all thoughts about her best friend and walked inside, ready to shut herself in her room until it was time to feed.
“You really did it, huh?” Edward taunted. “You really went through with it.”
“Please spare me the mocking tonight, Edward,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “My patience is wearing quite thin, and there’s no telling if I might snap. I have heard that us newborns have a tendency to be twitchy and rather strong.”
“You’re such a…”
“That’s quite enough, Edward,” Esme interjected before he could go any further. “Leave your judgment inside your head.”
Edward muttered a complaint as he disappeared into the backyard, acting as a teenager reprimanded by their mother. Which, in a sense, he was.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Rosalie,” the woman smiled. “I hope that whatever happened today and all those months before brought you some type of solace. I know it will never be enough, but I hope it’s a start.”
“I hope so, too.”
But she knew her heart would need much more mending than only a few deaths.
That night, she had pulled out the message from her bag alongside a picture she had managed to take with her of Vera and her in their class banquet. They had worn beautiful gowns and were smiling from ear to ear as they danced together. It was a memory she would carry for the rest of her life. But, then, she had laid in the bed she did not need, pressing the picture and the message close to her chest, and closed her eyes to pretend she could dream she was back there.
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