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hyukmoon · 3 years

Text

moon. | l.sy x gn!reader

lee sangyeon x gn!reader

word count: about 4.01k

to put it short: congrats! Something you should actually say, right? Your best friend and crush is getting married in two days and you feel,... well, not very good about it. So, wait... he's returning the feelings? Damn.

content warning: ANGST in capital letters, I would add lots of exclamation points but im lazy. So yeah, hella angsty. Some good old making out, it's kind of heavy at some point but no smut at this point lol. I don't condone any of the done actions, so yeah, I would've personally handled everything differently, but you know, y/n is kinda wild. Very awkward sometimes, but that's more the situation in itself. ALSO, NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @loki-in-hogwarts

note: the second thing i wrote and im somewhat excited!!! Yes! Exclamation points. So,... thanks for reading :)

It was a great day. Well, at least seemingly for everyone but you. Your best friend in this world Sangyeon was about to get married to the love of his life, who is notyou and now you just stand in the hotel lobby waiting for it to happen. Funnily enough, the crushing feeling of desperation and fear didn’t seem to set in yet.

The hotel lobby was filled to the brim with acquaintances and other guests possibly confused by the uproar of the wedding guests. So, who were you specifically waiting for? The rest of your friend group, the ones who will most likely clean up after the wedding whatever will be left of you.

A nervous smile swept up to your lips, casually just avoiding every sort of tension that could come across you. Just with the luck of this entire occurrence an older woman started to approach you, demon alike features spreading around her face almost like she knew you were apparently the only single person here. An aunty, that wasn’t even related to you but had all the business to judge.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?”, her sweet voice rang a familiar feeling in your stomach. Almost too sweet, making you suspicious of her intent. “I’m here for my best friend, Sangyeon. So, yeah, for the groom.”, you hesitated a second, “What about you though? Do you know the bride?”

“She’s my youngest niece, the only one that still visits, her sisters don’t even care anymore…” You nodded politely, not wanting to anger her now and stepped towards a different direction.

“So, my dear, are you here with anybody?” You already feared that question, the same as always. The eyes of yours started with a panicked expression searching through the room a familiar pair. “No, I am here on my own. I kinda wanted to focus on getting Sangyeon through with it, being there for him.” As a friend.

Possibly this was the first part of feeling despair and fear. People at this wedding were really waiting for them to get married. They weren’t joking, this would change everything.

“Ah, I see. You know, get over him. Well, it is time for you at least, you’re not getting younger. There are quite few handsome men here. I remember the names Juyeon and ah yes! Kevin, get over here!” As far as you were concerned, your facial expression couldn’t possibly look more stunned than a moment ago, yet another one of your good friends appeared, seemingly just as confused.

This only held on for a good second, Kevin knew exactly what to do. “Oh hi, I’m so sorry to steal [Y/N] away from you, but I actually need to talk to them on my own over a gift we both prepared for the couple!”, he grinned at the lady, who was obviously smitten with him. “Yes, of course, hun. Take your time.” She finally hushed into a separate direction.

“So, how are we doing? You seem kinda… stressed.”

“You don’t say”, you sighed, “if I have to go through a conversation like this again today, believe me I’ll-. “

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I get the sentiment. Even though I meant more the other situation. Like in, Sangyeon getting married and you sitting here all grumpy because of it.”, Kevin was already aware of your “small” infatuation with your best friend, a man too far out of your reach also funnily enough, the man’s wedding you’re attending. However, your friend in front of you didn’t seem to mind talking about it out loud in a place like the hotel lobby. Your lips tightened up into a fine line.

“I’m not grumpy! I just…I don’t really know what to do. I mean, I know I’m going to be there for him but yeah, okay, I might feel a bit grumpy.” The lobby did clear up a lot now.

“Okay, oof. There’s this dinner with everyone in the evening today, do you think you can get through that?”, Kevin asked hesitantly just as stressed with this additional complication.

“I mean, I probably have to, don’t I? This makes me so sick, ugh. Not gonna lie, my stomach feels like a laundry machine.” You laughed quietly and drifted off again into a place where you didn’t need to think about this.

“What did you really expect though? You know I love you, respectfully, but like, this feels like an incredibly bad move to do.”

“Don’t you think it would be worse if I didn’t show up at all? I’ll just need to go through this weekend and I’m outta here. No one will know anything.” It might feel like a nightmare but at least a nightmare you can actually run away from and not actually have to face at some point.

“Well, I hope you’ll keep your confidence. Because imagine I saw the person, I love getting married to someone else. Oh my, believe me, you wouldn’t find me for the next three weeks.”

“Not very helpful, a good three out of ten. I guess, I’ll just stick to sulking around then.” A dead smile crept up your lips following a stern look from your side at your opposite.

“Seems like a good plan, just stick to me, maybe we will find someone to take your attention away from this, huh?” A sly grin was visible on Kev’s face.

“Ughhh, of course. Let’s do this. It can’t get much worse than that”, you cleared your throat, “thanks, though. You actually make this here somewhat bearable.”

“Awww, come on. We should pack out our suitcases.”

No one can really prepare someone for a moment like this. Most older folk turned into their hotel rooms which left you in a party like situation seeing your closest friends turning it up in a huge pavilion while the future groom sits comfortably on a velvety sofa hand in hand with his fiancée.

The air was quite warm even at this time of the evening, not humid, just warm enough for everyone to taste the end of this era with nostalgia and a slight feeling of energy to experience what’s to come afterwards.

You as well sat down, continuously processing your environment. With a cup of your favorite drink, you felt invincible, nothing able to shake you down.

Now while this wasn’t a preferred environment, this was manageable; you could look your best friend into his eyes and proudly congratulate him on his wedding. You would be able to get over this and continue to be a great friend. Black hair with an intense facial expression made its way into your viewpoint along with a somewhat tipsy Kevin. Simultaneously the lighter hair of your best friend fought his way through the crowd.

Lee Sangyeon, the man lighting up your mood with simple touch of his fingertips was now signalizing for you to head outside towards the veranda of the pavilion. He exuded patience, yet clearly waiting for a response of you. You nodded and brushed cautiously over your evening attire.

“Hii, [Y/N]! Can I introduce this someone to you? This is Juyeon, he might look a bit intense, but he’s really nice to talk to! So, I’m gone for a sec then!” Kevin started drifting off into a different direction where you stopped him in his tracks.

“Could this wait? Sangyeon needs to talk to me. I think it’s important, I’ll come back though in a bit!” You gifted both of them an apologetic face and made your way around the men towards the going to be groom.

Surely it wasn’t exactly clear why he wanted to speak to you, especially on his own. He was still waiting for you after all.

“[Y/N]! What has it been? Like three? Four months? I missed you so much.”, Sangyeon pulled you into his chest abruptly and sighed softly into your shoulder. Engulfed entirely in his figure you never wanted to wake up from this again. Was it now 10 seconds? 15 seconds? Neither he nor you really seemed to let go, taking in all the scents of his that were formerly familiar to you.

“Yeah, I think so. You were probably busy planning this all and I just had to work, I guess.” Trying to keep it short was your main goal, appearing distant maybe. He didn’t mind at all though. Not discouraged from continuing this conversation Sangyeon pointed at the veranda, showing the only speck of space with little to no crowd.

The veranda was close to closed off to the party. Non distinguishable palm trees in the far distance were playing right into your cards for not having to look into his eyes. Magnetically glowing, that’s how he appeared. All happy and smiley about the obvious luck he was experiencing. Now again, he sat down with you in the beach chairs without loosing a word.

“The palm trees are so pretty. You remember me wanting to buy some new plants?”, you tried to invite him to the conversation.

“You always want to buy new plants, which time do you mean?” Sangyeon grinned to himself. “You know what? It’s so weird. Everything feels still so unreal. This wedding, also you at my wedding… So weird.”

“I am literally your best friend, where else should I be? Your funeral? At home? Who else is going to charm the hotel staff for some free capri suns and new towels?” Your mouth crinkled up and you let out a soft laugh.

“[Y/N] … You know exactly what I mean!”

“Noo, not at all. I’m so confused right now, not gonna lie.” Your face finally moved towards his direction, seeing his gentle gaze resting on you.

“Do you remember when we were still in school, and we promised each other we would marry each other if we didn’t find anybody else?” His gaze got more intense with each sentence.

“Yeahh, kind of. I was probably tired and it’s like ten years ago. I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I really thought I was going to marry you. For several years, actually.”, he laughed. “I had such a crush on you and then you met your s/o and all that. Ughh, it seemed so complicated back then. Kind of weird to think about what could have happened if I did ask you out or something.”

“True.”, you turned away again standing up and resting against the wooden railing of the pavilion. “But you didn’t so, let’s just drop it there.” The weather as well started rebelling a bit, the wind hugging your figure slightly too tight for your taste.

“Why are you so cold all of a sudden?”, he whispered closely behind you.

“Well, you’re getting married tomorrow. And you’re telling me about a crush you had on me?”, you croaked.

“I was just being nostalgic, I thought this would be fine with you.” Sangyeon appeared now next to you on the railing, waiting for you to face his concerned dark eyes.

“It isn’t for me. It just feels wrong.”

“What feels so wrong about it? It was a long time ago.”

It is here, the bitterness. Bitterness shouldn’t even be the correct term, the pain of your heart going into a slump didn’t feel like a fitting word. Being reminded again that you will never have a chance again.

“Wait or is it not a long time ago for you?”, The voice of his tried to word his next sentence very carefully.

“I went out with them because I thought you were joking. Then when I thought about you, it was always different. It was too late though, you met her.” Only the close ocean along with the wind were hearable, neither you nor he were able to form another thought put into a sentence.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve-.”

“Broken up with her?”

“No, I-.”

“Then what could you have done?”, you interrupted Sangyeon’s rambling, trembling while speaking. Terribly spiteful with a bite that wasn’t too often dripping down your lips.

“This.” Sangyeon pressed a fluttery kiss against your lips. Slender fingers tapped onto the skin right under your chin, signalizing you to look at him.

The now much calmer atmosphere made you snake your arms around his torso. Heat rose towards your head, longing after a second out in the cold again just to see his lovely facial expression. Your lips broke off and touched once more in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His hot breath started sliding downwards your cheek to your neck, physically making you unable to resist his entrancing presence. Also his hands broached over from your face down to your waist, holding you with the lightest touch.

Sangyeon’s lips darted away from yours, catching you staring deeply into his eyes. The silence felt warm now as well, filled with the slow and recovering breath of the participants.

“[Y/N], I think I still feel that way.”, a rosy blush swept over the man’s face you wanted to hear say these things so many times and so long ago.

“No. No. No. You shouldn’t! I shouldn’t either! I have to go.” The reality of the situation caught up to you. This was bad. Incredibly bad. Still the disgusting feeling of hope within this made its way up to your head. Stinging alongside the feeling of remorse, you didn’t think clearly, especially now, next to him.

You darted in the fastest way possible from the pavilion up to the hotel to your room, leaving him there.

Today should be the final day. The hopes that already should have been buried a long time ago, crawled up again and clawed its way into your mind. What if he leaves her for you today? Like in those unrealistic rom coms. Yes, again, it was unrealistic.

Leaving her at the altar and running after you. While all those thoughts of hope and wishes came together you found yourself with a stomachache. His fiancée was an incredibly nice person, sweet and kind along with being a beauty. You shouldn’t even dare to think about Sangyeon that way anymore, she deserved a lot more. Quite honestly, you felt pathetic. Who were you to run into their possible future?

Just because of a simple brush over the lips, his eyes staring into yours like no one else existed but you and his soft hands delicately touching your waist. A tap on your shoulder put you out of your trance, “[Y/N]? Can you go up to Sangyeon’s room? He asked for you.” Kevin’s eyes glanced at you with uncertainty. Neither you nor he knew why he wanted to see you.

Even more importantly, why did he need to see you alone? This seemed like dangerous territory after, basically yesterday. Agony rose again, what if he really was going to leave her?

“Sure, I don’t know why he wants to see me again though.”, you said and left to see the groom’s room. You stumbled more and more over every step closer to the door of the man who’s going to rip your heart and air out of your lungs. The normally soft laid out carpet felt in this moment like you were stepping barefoot over glass. There was the door, brightly painted in eggshell paired with the digits of the hotel room.

Before you could reach the door to knock on it, light brown waves greeted your overtly surprised face.

“You clean up well.”, Sangyeon’s rang in your ears clearer than freshly hung-up laundry in your nose. His previously concerned face curled up into a faint smile.

“Same goes for you”, you tried your best to hide the very apparent frog in your throat, “So, why do you need me?”

“Just needed to see you before going out there, I guess.”, his voice got a lot quieter. It got silent.

Not sure if a said word was necessary, you plopped down on a small, velvety stool. Every whisper was to be heard. An otherness surrounded Sangyeon, like he wasn’t there anymore, and his thoughts took over his being. You scooted closer towards him, just wanting to see him up close for the last time like this, smelling his earthy cologne from this distance.

“Why are you doing this to me?”, your voice went close to hoarse after the question. He was just as silent as before. No sound, nothing. This torment of a weekend was supposed to end with no gratification, not feeling free from this feeling on your chest? Your hand slid over his, the most desperate attempt to get his attention while also experiencing his touch again. Sangyeon jerked his hand back and returned to his absent posture.

“Why do you want to hurt me like this? I am your best friend, and you use me like I’m nothing.” The lack of power you had now made you sink down to the beige teddy carpet. Small tears started swelling up in your nearly dry eyes, kind of contradictory, yet the more tear drops rolled down your cheeks the rottener and hollow you felt.

“You were my best friend until you-.”, he stopped midsentence, “made me feel things again I didn’t need, I didn’t want.” Also his face was wet, ridden with tears making his usually calm and cheerful persona look like a painful insult.

“You asked me here. It hurts, Sangyeon. I can’t make it stop hurting, I don’t know what to do”, you reached for him again, “Could I ever be enough for you?” He returned your former attempts to stroke your face. Cornering both of you, the air trapped you in the toxins of heartbreak and hopelessness.

Once again, Sangyeon’s hand glid over your soft skin and halted on your face. Glaringly staring into each other’s eyes, you were there again. The day before, yesterday. Close to baring the soul of each person present.

“[Y/N], it’s not about being enough. It never has been. I have made a commitment I already broke, I…I can’t do this”, he sighed, “you know I love her.”

“I thought you loved me as well.” Overwhelming nothingness overruled you, almost scaring you about this reaction. You weren’t crying, yelling nor having any physical reaction at all. It was convincingly numb; the resting hurt would come later. Sangyeon’s head dropped in the dip of your shoulder and neck.

This sort of closeness would never happen again. You feeling him breathing into you while having his comforting heartbeat close to yours.

“I do, but I can’t do this to her. I would never do this to her.”, he whispered into your shoulder. A sigh came from his side.

“Then, please. Kiss me, for the last time.” The last part of the sentence left a disgustingly bitter taste in your mouth. This was over, right? His head, which was formerly resting on your shoulder, drifted up and towards yours. Also his expression blank and hollow, like he didn’t know anything.

For the last time, his hands cupped your face in a comfortable manner. As always, he felt homely, but he surely wasn’t yours ever. Not even waiting a good second or two, the light brunette’s face came closer to yours. With no hesitation both of your lips touched tenderly, releasing every sort of affection that could be expressed at that second. You inhaled again his intoxicating scent, in the hopes of having him all over you. His now reddened lips moved closer towards your jawline making you gasp for air.

Also, you weren’t completely still, constantly shifting your hands up and down over his torso upwards his neck, desperately feeling everything, you can for the last time. Sangyeon’s locks tickled you softly while he suddenly latched his mouth onto your neck right below your ear.

“No. Please, I just want a kiss on my lips.”, you said lowly, closely resembling a whine afterwards. He complied pretty quickly, leaving you with no thought but him tickling your bottom lip with his warm tongue. With him being this fast, you didn’t want to keep him on his toes. Entirely engaged in this moment, hands surprised you again on your waist, wandering closer and closer under the blouse you were wearing. You moaned into the kiss, making him take the opportunity to maneuver his tongue into your mouth.

Similarly to you, he was also stunned for a short moment when you grabbed up onto some strands of hair. A sigh left his now plump lips, a need of fresh air arrived onto both of you. Yet this was short lived, his hands captured your chin and attached his lips again onto yours in a matter of mere seconds. A bell rang, close footsteps to be heard across the floor reminding you of the situation you were in.

“Why am doing this? I am so sorry.”, you broke off his lips and took a step backwards at the door.

“[Y/N], we both did this, and it won’t happen again. We just need some time without each other. I think it would be for the best if we don’t spend time together alone anymore.”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing? I don’t know what to say. I-.”, His lips captured yours again fast with a lot more force behind his kiss.

A strong arm shut the about to be opened door again and hovered over your head. The other one caught grabbed your chin with an almost contradictory feeling to it, the lightest touch just to shove you into his direction. You sighed into his lips, waiting for him to commit with his tongue one more time. Buttery lips pressed against yours and clang inside your mouth. Fiercely did your tongues meet, ending with him sucking on yours. Wet cheeks batting against each other with no intent of separating, your movement still came to a halt.

“You know what? I hate this. I want you to be happy, then if it is with her, I will just y’know…go or uhm mind my business.”, you slurred the last part. It wasn’t really one of your most prideful moments. Still flushed with tears and embarrassment you dropped again against the room door.

“I ask for one condition though,” incredibly hearse was your voice after the crying and even more so because of your follow up, “I do not not want to see you for some time, I don’t want to have to see your face ever again.” Tears weren’t anymore swelling up in your eyes, they never seemed to stop running down with no chance of leaving this conversation with an ounce of self-respect and pride.

It wasn’t even really much of a problem to leave him behind for a bit, it most likely would be for the best anyway, yet while his words should only leave a small mark and feel like a ripped off band aid, you felt alone. A sense of loneliness crept stealthily into you leaving you with nothing but a severe feeling of dread.

“If that is what you want, I’ll respect that.” The room got quieter till you heard the last of his words: “Of course, I still want you in on my wedding though, you’re still my best friend.” Sangyeon’s usual soft and kind smile appeared on his face, seemingly reaching you an olive branch. The former assertiveness and confidence drained through the conversation; you were nothing but a wreck.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Fairy like flowers were hung all across the beach space, making the place more surreal than it was to begin with. Everything light with a hint of light green and an even lighter lavender tone. The air seemed to have evaporated all the tension and sadness from your face. All across the seats were relatives and friends sitting with a nervously happy face. Ironically, he really thought it was going to be you someday.

“You’re [Y/N], right? Everyone always tried to introduce me to you. Now we’re sitting next to each other at Sangyeon’s wedding together! I’m Juyeon by the way.”

#lee sangyeon x reader #sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon #sangyeon #tbz #tbz fic #tbz angst #the boyz fic #the boyz #the boyz au #the boyz scenarios #sangyeon x you #sangyeon x y/n #the boyz x reader #sangyeon tbz #the boyz kevin #the boyz juyeon #moon kevin #lee juyeon

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meigh-day · 3 years

Text

Mine (Bokuto x F!Reader)

Title: Mine

Pairing: Time Skip Bokuto x F!Reader

Characters: Bokuto, Atsumu, Hinata, Sakusa, Female Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, Mild angst to fluff

Status: Complete

Word Count: 5k

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"Hey, Y/N?"

The sound of running water and a voice at your side brought your hazy thoughts back to the present. You hummed a response as your eyes focused, widening at the sight of water overflowing into the basin. "Ah, shit..."

"You ok?" Atsumu tilted his head at you, concern lightly pulling at his features. He watched you hurriedly turn off the tap and replace the cap on the bottle before giving him your attention.

"Mhm, I'm fine." A smile trails onto your lips, as you offer up lies of reassurance. You were fine. Sorta. Good enough to be at practice anyway. Sure, your head was dully throbbing and you felt far too warm on such a cool day. But yea you were fine. The blonde setter made a small sound of disbelief as he pressed his hand to your cheek.

"Fine huh?" He frowned down at you. "Do ya think I'm an idiot? What are ya doing here when yer sick?"

He had a point. Why were you here when you were sick? It wasn't like this was an official practice. Some of the jackals had wanted to get in a little extra practice over the weekend and it's not like you had to even be here. So why had you taken time away from your days off to come? Well that was easy. A certain grey haired spiker was going to be there and the two of you just so happened to have plans to hang out later.

"Who else is going to take care of you guys?" You laugh, gathering up the bottles but before you can lift them they are already up and off the floor. "Hey..."

"Ya know it's a good thing Sakusa isn't here today... he'd have yer sick ass outta here so fast..." Atsumu settles the bottles into his arms and looks down at you as you stand.

"I know..." Your eyes shift to the side, your expression looking fairly pathetic.

He sighed. "Look if ya promise to take it easy then ya can stay for all I care."

You look up at him, a smile brightening your features. "Really?"

"Yeah yeah... I'll take care of water for the guys. Just relax and take notes or something."

"I will. Promise. Oh uhm... Atsumu?"

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A pair of golden eyes watched the two of you from around the corner. Watching as Atsumu gently caressed your cheek. Watching as you smile up at him. It was difficult to hear what the two of you were talking about, especially with Miya's back to him, but that way you responded spoke volumes. And if what he saw wasn't enough, the words that did reach his ears, sealed the deal.

"Hm?" Atsumu turned back to you as his name left your lips.

"Don't tell Bokuto."

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Bokuto stood, arms crossed and a look of irritation all over his features. The two of you were supposed to be hanging out together later. In fact the two of you had been spending quite a bit of time together outside of the team. At first the two of you just found yourselves together during team outings and before you knew it that had lead to exchanged numbers and a generic 'we should hang out sometime' sentiment. However, that sentiment had actually become a reality and soon the two of you were texting every night, having dinner together or going to a movie. Sometimes you'd just walk together after practice was over for the day. The time spent with you had started to become special to him but it was obviously not as special to you. Not with the way you had been smiling up like a lovesick puppy at that damned Miya idiot.

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"Bokuto!"

"Huh?" He turned at the call of his name but it was too late. He watched as the ball sailed by him and dropped to the floor, rolling under the net.

Hinata went running after it as Atsumu turned, hands on his hips. "I dunno what yer daydreamin about but if yer not gonna spike my sets then I'll send 'em to someone else."

Bokuto grit his teeth, turning wide angry eyes at the blonde setter, ready to let him have it but before he could get out a word he was interrupted.

"Ah, damn it. Hold that thought." Atsumu was watching you from across the court, gathering water bottles like the rebel you were. He proceeded to march past the angry grey haired spiker and over to you before he unceremoniously hauled the bottles from your arms.

"Ah, ah... We talked about this." You huffed at him, trying and failing to grab at the bottles while he easily swatted your hands away.

"Now settle down or else." He smirked at you as he glanced over to Bokuto and then back at you.

You followed his gaze, his implication clear. Consider your attention grabbed. With a pout, your hands drooped to your sides in defeat. "Yea yea, I'll just sit here and do nothing I guess..."

"Good." He smirked down at you and proceeded to give you a head pat before briskly exiting the gym.

With a sigh you picked up your notebook and pen, intent on at least taking some notes for the guys. Normally you tried to be more involved in their practices. Making sure they had enough water and towels, taking notes and even tossing balls for them. Just anything they might need. You really cared about each of them and wanted to see them all do well, so it was annoying that you couldn't do much else except take notes and sit down without Miya noticing and mothering you. Though there was a small part of you that was thankful for his watchful eye, just gathering the water bottles had kinda taken it out of you and you were starting to wondering if it had really had been a bad idea coming today.

As you turn back to the court you are met by a pair of crossed arms and a frown. A smile immediately spreads across your lips. "Hey Bo."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes lighting up, whenever he was near. What had definitely started as a friendship had started to turn into something else, at least for you. You always had so much fun with him, didn't matter what you were doing, you were just happy to be with him.

He does not return your smile, in fact his frown only seems to deepen at the sight of it. "So you're getting Miya to do all your work?"

"What? No. He...uh...just..." You stammer a little trying to think of a plausible excuse without exposing the fact that you were sick to the one person you were trying to keep it from.

Bokuto let out an annoyed huff as he looked away. "I really don't care. Just try to keep the flirting to a minimum."

"Flirt... What? Bo it's not like that."

"No? Then why are you even here today? It's just an extra practice, no reason for you to have come in the first place." Your expression fell at this words. While making plans to hang out you had offered to come along to practice since you were free anyway and, at the time, Bokuto had eagerly agreed. Now it seemed like he was regretting any and all enthusiasm he'd once expressed at the idea.

"I just wanted to help you guys out today." Your voice came out a little quieter than normal. It was true, your intentions weren't totally selfless for being here. You took every chance you could to be around Bokuto, even if it was merely watching from the bench as he practiced. He was such a beautiful person inside and out but there was something special about watching him playing that made him really glow. However, your doubts at coming today began to flood back in as he questioned your presence.

"By what? Sitting around doodling in your notebook? Honestly, y/n if you aren't going to do your actual job then you should just go home. We don't need you here."

We don't need you here...

Don't need you here...

Don't need you...

Go home.

His words felt like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. "You don't..." The rest of the words died on your tongue as you saw his irritated expression staring you down. "Oh." You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes lower, willing the tears that were stinging your eyes not to fall.

You take in a slow breath as you slip the notebook into your bag. This was not how you had seen your day turning out. You'd wanted to spend time with the team and do your best to help them. Then you'd hoped to end the day with Bokuto, someone who had become really special to you, but now you were left holding back tears as you turned back to him. "I, uh, " You feel your voice waiver and think better of whatever you had been about to say. " Sorry..." The apology is quick, almost as quick as the bow you offer up before hurrying out of the gym.

There are two pairs of eyes watching as you leave and both are confused. Bokuto lets out a sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair. He was already regretting this. It's not like you were his girlfriend and yet here he was being a total ass to you just because you were getting friendly with Miya. It shouldn't bother him so much but it did. He likes you. Liked you? Likes... Shit. After a moment he turns and start across the gym, his mind in disarray.

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Atsumu wanders back in several minutes later, water and towels in hand. He sets them down on the bench, noting your absence on the bench as well as within the gym itself. Hinata grins at the blonde as he picks up one of the bottles. " Thanks Atsumu!"

"Mhm. Shoyo, where's Y/N?"

Hinata freezes a moment, opens his mouth and then closes it before quickly glancing around. Atsumu isn't sure what the hell this kid is doing, its almost like he didn't realize she was gone and is frantically looking around. Hinata was in fact looking around, but not for Y/N, he was merely making sure it was just the two of them before he spoke. "Oh, uh, she went home."

"Oh yea? Good. She shouldn't have come in the first place." Hinata went to open his mouth, an objection ready on his lips but then Atsumu continued. "She must like him an awful lot to come here sick on her day off..."

"Sh... Wh... Huh? Y/N is sick?!"

Atsumu looked down at the surprised red-head. " Yea. Isn't that why she left?"

Hinata pressed his lips together as his gaze travelled across the gym.

---------------------------

"What the hell is wrong with ya?!" Bokuto glanced up in time to see the approaching blonde heave a bottle at him, a curse falling from his lips as he fumbled to catch it.

"I.. what?"

"Don't pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! I heard what ya said to Y/N you ass!" Atsumu yelled as he followed up the bottle with a towel.

The towel sailed across the small space between them and hit Bo square in the face, the larger man just having managed to get his hands on the bottle. "Knock it off Miya!" Bo grumbled as he pulled the towel off his head before tossing it onto the ground.

"Where do ya get off talkin to Y/N like that? Sendin' her off like she's some huge inconvenience."

Bokuto lets out a huff, muttering something under his breath as he turns his face away from the setter. Atsumu narrows his eyes at the man before him. "What the hell do ya have to be grumbling about you big idiot! Yer not tha one who got yelled at. She only came in today to try and help and ya sent her home like she'd done some terrible thing!" Atsumu crossed his arms, annoyance clear all over his face as he started to turn away." I don't get why she likes ya so much... Comin’ here on her day off... and sick too."

Bokuto was already feeling badly about what he had done even before the setter had come over to scold him. He hadn't meant anything he'd said. It didn't matter to him why you had come in, he was just happy to see you. He had been looking forward to seeing you after practice to hang out and maybe finally tell you how he really felt. But he'd let jealousy rear its ugly head and his harsh words had sent you away.

He watched as Atsumu started to walk away, the setter’s final words hanging heavy on his shoulders. You were sick. Sick?! Bokuto's eyes widen, his feet moving as he grabbed for the other man. "Sick? Y/N is... sick?" Atsumu turned, his annoyance softening a little at the stricken look on Bokuto's face. "Yea. I tried to get her to go home earlier but she was keen on stayin'... Wanted to see you..." He paused as he pressed his lips together and shook his head as he looked Bokuto up and down. "...for some reason." Bokuto let his hand fall away, the setter merely sighing as he gave him a pat on the shoulder before striding across the gym.

A moment later the doors to the gym open to reveal a rather damp Sakusa. He stalks into the gym, swipes a towel off the bench and starts drying himself off. "What happened to you?" Miya smirks at the man who simply returns a glare. "It's fucking pouring outside you dumbass." Atsumu tries and fails to catch the wet towel before it hits him in the face.

"Raining?!" Bo appears before them, worry etched into his features. Sakusa merely offers a grunt of affirmation before disappearing into the change room. The two men left behind exchange glances before turning their gaze to the doors.

-------------------------------------------

You had managed to make it out of the gym and almost a whole street away before tears started to slowly trail down your cheeks. Today was supposed to be special. You were going to go to practice, hang out with Bo afterwards and maybe, just maybe, finally confess your feelings. But now you were walking home, kicked out by the very person you had gone to see, and now you were crying. It felt like everything good about the day had turned sour and now all that was left was a bitter feeling that seemed to grow heavier with each step. In fact it seemed so heavy that you almost felt like you were having trouble walking. It's not like you were sick and probably had a fever and because of that your steps were much more sluggish. Nope, definitely not.

You wiped at your tears with your sleeve, letting out a heavy sigh as you trudged along the side walk. A moment later you felt one and then another slide down your cheek and you wiped those away too. It did strike you as a little strange, you were pretty sure you had stopped crying. As that thought struck you another drop fell on your cheek, and then another, it was only when you looked up that you realized it had started to rain.

Within a few minutes the small droplets that had started to fall turned into a downpour. You were running, your bag held over your head, as you tried to search for some shelter to wait out the rain. You're apartment was too far to keep going in this weather and your body was starting to feel fuzzy. Well your head was at least. Despite the cool air and even cooler rain that feel you felt too warm.

Finally, a small bit of luck came your way in the form of a park. There were several large trees that would do rather nicely to at least partially shelter you from the rain. You hurried under the nearest one, leaning against it as you let your bag drop to the ground and try to catch your breath. With each sharp inhale more dots began to dance in your vison. Your shaky legs deposited you at the base of the tree and as your vison goes black, your body going limp, you swear you hear someone calling your name.

-----------------------------------------

Heavy footsteps pound on the sidewalk as Bokuto frantically searches for you. He knew the route you took home each day, he's walked it with you enough that he could practically walk it blindfolded. He had tried calling and texting you before racing out of the gym. Even now, in the rain, he had his phone to his ear in another attempt to get a hold of you. With each failed attempt the guilt dug further into his stomach. The things he had said kept repeating in his mind. How could he say such mean words, such lies?! Truth was the team did need you there. He needed you there. It didn't matter if you just sat on the sidelines doing absolutely nothing, just you being there was all he needed.

With a sigh he taps the call button one more time. " Please… please answer." He begs to the air as the ringing starts again. A small distance away, a melody can be heard playing in time with each ring in his ear. At first Bokuto thinks nothing of it but as it gets louder with each step he finds his already fast pace increasing. A moment later he sees you, huddled under a tree to hide from the rain, but the tiny moment of relief he felt is gone in an instant as he sees you collapse. The only thing he utters is your name as he runs across the grass, dropping to your side and pulling your trembling body into his arms.

"Oh my god. Y/N?!" He takes in your appearance, drenched from the sudden downpour and cheeks flushed against your otherwise pale skin. Bokuto can feel tears in his eyes as he looks down at you in his arms. It was his fault you were out here in the first place instead of warm and dry inside the gym. Hell if he'd bothered to actually pay attention to you today instead of wallowing in jealousy maybe he would have seen you were sick and you'd be home, safe and comfortable. Because of him you were much worse off. Bo shook his head and grit his teeth. This was not the time to be floundering in self-pity. He needed to get you somewhere safe and now. So with that goal in mind, he scooped you up into his arms and took off.

-----------------------------------

Every time you opened you eyes you saw him. It was like your mind was playing some awful joke on you yet you couldn't help but feel comfort at the sight. Your eyes wouldn't open long but when they did you were greeted by Bokuto's face, concern carved into each feature. Sometimes it almost felt like he was really there, his large hands gently pressing against your cheek or forehead, his normally boisterous voice gentle and soft as he reassured you that you were going to be ok.

Finally, your eyes did open and they stayed open. The room was dark except for a soft light coming from the table lamp beside you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, confusion and panic started to eat away at the sluggishness you had been feeling. This was not your room, not your blanket and, when you look down at yourself, not your clothes.

"What the fu--" You pause, your eyes settling on the figure at your side. Bokuto's large frame was hunched over the side of the bed, his head resting on the crook of one arm the other outstretched, hand resting over your leg. One more quick inspection confirmed this was Bokuto's room, his blanket and.... oh my god... his clothes. After a moment he started to stir, his yellow eyes slowly opening as he yawned.

"Morning..." You say quietly. He hums in response but then freezes, his eyes traveling up to yours and then he's on his feet. "Y/N?! You're awake!" He cries out, hand pressing against your cheek and then forehead before he grabs you by the shoulders. "I was so worried!" Before you can do or say a thing you find yourself crushed against his chest as he pulls you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said those things to you. We do need you, we always need you. We'd be nothing without you!" Bokuto relaxes his hold on you and you can feel him take a deep breath before speaking again, his voice coming out softer this time. "But as much as the team needs you... I-I need you." He whispered, pulling you tightly against his chest, one large hand firmly against your back while the other cradled your head. You relaxed into him, cheek pressed against the top of his shoulder as he whispered apologies into your hair while you softly trailed your hand up and down his back.

You felt your cheeks grow red from his confession and were thankful your face was hidden against him at the moment. "I hope you can forgive me Y/N. I was.. Well... I got jealous when I saw you talking to ‘Sumu and took it out on you. You don't deserve to be treated like that and I get it if you don't want to be friends or anything anymore but I promise I'll be better from now on."

He paused, almost holding his breath as he waited in the silence that followed. When you said nothing he felt his poor little heart breaking but he understood. He had been so mean to you and for no reason. After a moment he started to pull away, certain this must be a very awkward position to be in, when he felt your arms slide around his middle, your hand pressing into his back as you return the hug.

"Oh.. Uh.. You don't ---" Bokuto stammered before your slightly muffled voice broke through. "It's ok Bo. But you're right... I don't want to be friends anymore." You could feel his body stiffen in your arms at your admission and you could only imagine the heartbroken expression he must have on his face. You kept your arms around him and continued on. "I don't think I can keep being just your friend... I want to be more to you than that."

Bo released his hold around you, pulling away as he looked down at you, his own cheeks flushed at your confession. " You mean it?!" He looked so uncertain yet hopeful, like one word from you would break him down or build him up. You finally lean back and look up at him, a soft smile on your lips. "Bo, I've liked you for as long as I've known you. One bad day isn't going to change that." That was it, you could have simply nodded at him and he would have been elated but in just a few words you simultaneously filled his heart with joy and relief. Tears started to well in his eyes as he sniffled and you could feel your own tears wanting to fall.

"Hey now, no tears." You smiled up at him through your own glassy eyes, gently swiping a thumb across the apple of his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your soft touch before his own smile stretch across his lips. "Like you're one to talk." He peeked down at you before mimicking your action, his thumb coming away wet.

The two of you sat in each others arms a little longer, relishing in the new warmth and comfort your confessions had brought. As your thoughts began to settle, a new question began to bubble to the surface and curiosity begged to have it answered. "Uh, Bo?" You lean up and away a bit so you can see his face. He sits up as well, his arms releasing their hold on you only to have his hands searching for your own. "Hmm?" He looks at you expectantly but you find yourself a little distracted as you gaze down at your intertwined hands.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, uh right." You look down at yourself a moment, taking in the shirt and shorts that were obviously too big for you, before looking back up at him. "These are yours, right?" He nods in affirmation, a small blush on his cheeks as he notes how cute you look in his clothes.

"Uhm, " You pause, the question poised on your lips has your cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. " How...uh... That is to say.. Uhm... How did I... get in them?"

Bo smirked, watching you stutter through your question, almost too distracted by how adorable you are to really listen but after a moment his expression shifts to confusion. "Huh?"

You fidget around a little, not really wanting to repeat it. "How did I get in them? I... I don't remember changing myself so... did... You. Or?" You let the sentence trail off, too embarrassed by the implication of what you had said.

"What? No!" Bo laughed and then froze when he realized what you must have been thinking. "Oh my god!! No No no!! I didn't! I swear!" He was frantically waving his hands in front of him, his face red and eyes wide. "I would never... I mean not that I don't want to see.. Shit I mean not like this... Oh my god shut me up." He covered his face with both his hands in an attempt to hide just how embarrassed he was from the sudden word vomit.

You on the other hand were highly amused and trying not to laugh. "Bo. Bo?" You pull at his arm to try and reveal his very red face but he doesn't budge. "Hey, It's fine just tell me what happened. Honestly, the last thing I remember is being in the park. After that it's all a bit fuzzy." He peeks at you through his fingers and finally relents after you aim a sweet smile his way. He goes on to tell you how he found you and carried you to his place since it was much closer. How he wrapped you in about three blankets while he called one of his sister's over to help. She had been the one to change your clothes and dry you off while Bokuto paced like a nervous wreck in front of the bathroom door the entire time.

You made a mental note to thank her in the future but for now, with your curiosity sated, you felt the pull of sleep at your body. Bokuto noticed it too, watching as your eyes started to droop. "You should get some more rest. You're not fully recovered yet and I want to take my girlfriend on a date as soon as possible." His words had you nodding slowly, you knew you weren't fully recovered yet and sleep did sound nice, a date sounded even better. Wait. You pause and glance up at him, the drowsiness momentarily paused. "Girlfriend? On a date?" He grinned down at you, the soft sleepy smile on your lips warming his heart. "Mhm, now get some rest."

You can't help the silly lopsided grin on your face as you start to lay back down, sleep already tugging at your mind. "Bo?" He pauses, body halfway standing as he moved to get off the bed. "Stay with me?" You request has his heart squeezing. "I'm not going anywhere." He says as he starts to move back into the chair. "No.." You mumble, peeking an eye open at him and pointing beside you. "Here." Bokuto just about trips over himself when you make your request all the more clear. Both of your eyes open when you hear him stumble, the chair stuttering across the floor as he braces himself on it. He looks down at you to see you peering up at him, a small little pout on your lips. "Please?"

He drags a hand across his face and through his hair, his nerves feeling a little frazzled. "I- are you sure?" He finally asks, already noting how easily he's caving into to you. A smile breaks out across your sleepy face as you reach out to him with grabby hands. Well, how could he resist? Bokuto crawls into the bed beside you, a little unsure how much space to give you. You on the other hand are quick to wiggle over until you are nestled up against him, sleep and sickness throwing any shame you may have normally felt out the window. Taking a cue from you, he slips an arm under you and pulls you closer, your head now resting on his chest. He lays there listening to your breath start to even out, his free hand carefully pushing your hair away from your face, fingers gently twirling the ends.

This was not how either of you saw your day ending, or how you had planned to confess but somehow it seemed to work out just right. Maybe in the morning, when both your brains had recovered with some sleep and inhibitions were back, there might be lingering embarrassment from waking up in the same bed, from words you’d said or sleepy demands made. Though, none of that would matter. Not when, in the end, he gets to call you his and you get to call him mine.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #hinata #sakusa #x reader #msby #Bokuto kotaro

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btsslowburnfic · 3 years

Text

The Arrangement Ch 17

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Part one of the photoshoot

Previous Chapter here

The work week proceeded as normal. Well, what had become normal. Delivering coffee and reminding Yoongi to eat, answering emails, trying to figure out which meetings Yoongi actually needed to go to and which ones were a waste of time. Of course you always went to the meetings, and holy shit you couldn’t believe the topics couldn’t have been discussed via email. You were looking forward to this particular day because you got to go visit Hoseok in the style department and Jimin had decided he was tagging along “for funsies.”

Yoongi was supposed to go and get measured and try on clothes for his photoshoot. When you reminded him that morning he laughed at you, “Uh no. Hoseok knows what size I wear. He can figure it out. Go look at the clothes and I might try some of them on tonight.”

You and Jimin met up for lunch and then headed up to the styling department.

“I’m excited. I’ve never been to a photoshoot before.” You said bouncing up and down in the elevator.

“Yeah, they’re pretty boring actually. Like if it’s with some of the hotter models it’s a little fun for the eye candy, but then you feel bad for them because they have to sit for so long making awkward faces. They are constantly getting their make-up and hair touched up. Touch base with craft services to make sure there’s plenty of water. The lights are bright.”

You took out your phone, “Oh thanks. I wouldn’t have even thought about that. Any other tips?”

“It’s Yoongi. It won’t take as long as it does with the other people. He’ll show up, do it, and leave. JK and Tae, especially Tae, want to chat with everyone on set and if they are together it takes foreeeeevvvveeeeeerrrrr.”

“Huh, ok. Thanks.” The two of you arrived at JHOPE Fashion and walked through the rainbow vomit doors.

Hoseok was wearing glasses with yellow lenses today, which made his dramatic facial expressions stand out even more. He immediately rolled his eyes. He pointed to you. “You are not Yoongi.” He pointed to Jimin. “And you are not Yoongi.” He put his hands on his hips. “So why are the two of you here?”

“I’m sure you can guess why.” You responded dryly.

“Ugh. That ungrateful man. I had lovingly hand stitched these pieces. For him. These patches...” Hoseok pressed his fingers together as though he was praying. “Fine. Fine. You. Y/N. Come. You. Jimin. Wait right there.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why do I have to wait here?”

Hoseok turned from where he had started to walk towards the back. “You will thank me in a minute. A certain someone is coming to get his fitting in a few minutes.” He raised an eyebrow and then turned around, his heels clacking against the red tile floor.

Jimin started to blush profusely and before you could ask, Hobi interrupted, “Come new girl. We have work to do especially if that boss of yours refuses to come here and experience these magnificent beauties for himself.”

You followed him through the large door, which led to lime green hallways and then to a quiet, more muted workspace. The walls were lined with fabric bolsters, the middle tables with ribbon, thread, patches, paint. Paint?

Hoseok sat down. “From what I understand, this album will have an acoustic feel to it versus his previous albums. For that reason I have chosen these natural materials such as cotton, linen, and denim.” He spread out several pieces onto the large table. “I have also opted for a more neutral pallet, as much as it hurts my soul. I have chosen colors found in nature. I have chosen brightly colored accessories such as these silks to stand in contrast with the stiff fabric and more neutral colors he will be wearing. Additionally, I avoided black. We’ll see if he notices.”

You watched as he draped the red and purple silks over the top of the clothes. For whatever reason, you found it mesmerizing watching the fabric juxtapositioned in such a way. “It’s so cool to hear you tell a story just using clothes.” You said, somewhat enchanted.

Hoseok flicked his eyes up to you, “Thank you. That is what I try to do with my collections. Everyone’s outfit tells a story, even if they don’t mean for it to. May I?” He asked, stepping back and gesturing at you.

“Oh man. You know I don’t dresses fancy--”

“Shhhh you don’t tell me.” He looked at your outfit. You had opted for an Aline skirt and blouse with a casual blazer. “You had meetings this morning, that’s obvious by the jacket. You usually dress cuter. Which means you are either sick or not feeling great. You look fine. So I’m guessing...you are on your period. Sorry, this just comes out, I can’t stop it,” he paused for a moment as your jaw dropped open slightly. He stepped closer, inspecting the shoulders of your jacket. “The blazer is at least ten years old but you shouldn’t have had a blazer ten years ago unless it was for your school uniform and that isn’t a school jacket. Which means it probably belonged to an older sister or aunt. You are very responsible and well organized otherwise you wouldn't be Yoongi’s assistant. Therefore you are most likely the oldest or only child so that is your aunt’s jacket. Your blouse is nice. You actually like it, you’ve worn it twice in the week you’ve been working here. You bought it at a thrift store. You don’t spend a lot of money on yourself, but you are very confident. Therefore, it’s not that you don’t think you deserve nice things, it’s just that you can’t afford them so you likely grew up poor and it has continued into your adulthood.”

“Holy shit. You should be a detective.” You said to him.

“The shoes, I gave you last week. They don’t have a story yet, other than a very good -looking man in a suit helped you out because Jimin said you were a nice girl. You wear zero accessories which shows a lack of both funds and sentimentality. Most people have at least one piece of jewelry that means something to them, but if you have one, you don’t wear it.” He smiled at you, his white teeth gleaming. “ Now, how much am I right about?” He crossed his hands in front of his chest.

You clapped your hands as though you were in an audience. “All of it. Although I am still weirded out that you know I’m on my period. Next time I’m going to wear something skin tight to throw you off.” You joked.

“Well,” he started, “At least now that you work here you don’t have to worry as much right?”

Given the shitshow you went through this weekend you weren’t sure about that, but you shrugged, “It definitely pays better. And money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps make some things less hard.” You gestured to the pile of fabric on the table, “So...what do I do? Take these clothes with me for Yoongi to try on or will they be at the photoshoot tomorrow? Do I need to bring them to the photoshoot?”

Hoseok sighed dramatically, “I could dress Yoongi drunk, in my sleep. He can just show up tomorrow and I will dress him then. My staff will make sure the clothes and accessories are at the photoshoot. Here,” He walked over to one of the garment racks. “More clothes for you. I know you have a big closet. And if you run out of space, just take Yoongi’s, he only wears like three things despite my best efforts.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re not kidding. Ok thanks,” You took the clothing. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble. Feel free to see yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and please make sure the catering has strawberries.”

“Strawberries? Got it.” You were learning so much today.

You exited the backroom and saw Jimin over near one of the pedestals. He was chatting with JK who was getting fitted with a corset. What an itty bitty waist, you admired. The two of them seemed to be having a good time and you had a new list of things to do so you waved at Jimin and headed to 1802 to drop off your new clothes. You had forgotten Hoseok knew you lived with Yoongi. The week had flown by.

You sent a text message to Jiwoo asking if you could stop by her desk and ask her a few questions to make sure everything was set up for tomorrow and then stopped by the apartment.

You conferred with her and learned how to navigate catering requests via the company website; apparently it wasn’t available on the app, good to know. you felt much better about the shoot tomorrow but still nervous and excited.

You knocked on the door to Genius Lab. No answer. Never any answer. You typed the code in and saw Yoongi wearing his headphones, lost in his own world. He had told you to just wait on the sofa when this was the case and that he would eventually notice you. Normally the smell of coffee was what alerted him to your presence, but you had come empty handed today. You sat down on the couch and took out your phone.

YN: I don’t mean to alarm you. But there’s something behind you.

You saw his phone light up. He ignored it for a minute, presumably to finish listening to a song, and then picked it up. You heard him laugh and take off his headphones. “You are the worst.” He spun around.

“So mean. Hey. Tomorrow is my first photoshoot. I checked on the outfits for you. By the way, Hoseok is like Sherlock Holmes with clothing. I learned I’m supposed to contact catering, I have hair and make-up requests in. Do I need to do anything else?”

Yoongi thought for a minute. He never really participated in that side of the photoshoot, now that he reflected on it. He walked his way through a day on set. “No. The changing rooms and photography are handled by other departments. Check with Jiwoo or Jimin, they’ve both set up a shoot before.”

“I did. I’m getting ready to send in the last food request. Any requests?”

“Mandarins. I don’t like to eat a lot on set because I don’t want stuff getting stuck in my teeth.”

“That makes sense. Ok. I’ll let you get back to it then.” You got up and stretched.

“Tomorrow will go fine. If you forgot anything, it will be somewhere in this building.” He reassured you.

“That makes me feel a lot better.” You said honestly. “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Later.”

--------------------

The next day arrived with Yoongi heading off to the hair and make-up department and you heading to the 11th floor to see what the photo set up looked like. You exited the elevator. Man your hands were sweaty, you followed the sounds of voices and made your way to the shooting location. The lighting crew was checking their overheads, a stand-in was posing on the various props they had set out. It looked as though there were three separate “areas” for shooting photos. One area had a large white couch, complete with coffee table, rubber plant, magazines. The whole set up designed to look like a living room. A second space was a blue sheet with a white background. The third space was a kitchen, complete with an island, stovetop, and refrigerator. Holy moly this space was huge. You marveled at it.

“Hello, can I help you?” An older man walked over.

“Oh hi, I’m YLN. Yoongi’s assistant. I was stopping by to check the set up. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you. Yes. Here, let me walk you through it.”

You received a tour of the set and also an overview of the order of shooting. You also found out that next week, weather permitting, there would be a second shooting at the park across the street. You got catering checked in, or at least pointed to the table and felt like you did a thing. The same happened when the clothing team showed up. You pointed to dressing rooms and the vanity where the accessories trunk should go. You were thankful no one had asked you any questions so far. This was a steep learning curve. You had hoped someone you knew might be here today to help ease your nerves, but so far, it was all new faces.

Finally, you saw one familiar face. Alice walked in, carrying a small case with her. You waved.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you again.” She said. “I had no idea you were Yoongi’s assistant until today.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t mention that. I was so overwhelmed that first day,” you smiled.

“No worries. He was just telling me and Bongcha that he had an assistant now. He’s almost done. His make-up is setting. I’m on hair today which isn’t my strong suit, but it’s not like he’s needing a fancy up-do or anything and it’s good for me to practice.”

“Ok great. This is my first time at a photoshoot, so if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing but I’m not, can you let me know?” You confided in her.

“Absolutely. It looks like most of the stuff is set up how it usually is. Just remember,” she got closer to you and spoke quieter, “You are Yoongi’s assistant. Some of these people, especially these older guys will try to get you to do stuff like get their coffee, grab them snacks. That is not your job. It’s not by job. If they have an assistant, it’s their job.”

“I knew I liked you when we first met,” you smiled at her. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime Unnie.”

She walked over and took out her hair tools and placed them on the table reserved for hair and make-up. A few minutes later you saw Yoongi walk in wearing a black shirt and grey sweats. His face looked even more beautiful than normal. Next to him was a petite girl with long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, dragging a make-up train behind her. Yoongi looked around for a second, and then locked eyes with you. You saw the tiniest smile threaten to come out as he walked over.

“Hey. Everything here looks good.” He gestured to the room.

“Thanks. I didn’t do most of it, I just pointed and people seemed to know what to do already. Your face looks good.”

Yoongi chuckled, “You can thank Bongcha for that. Bongcha, this is YN.”

Bongcha stuck out her hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well. You do good work. I give his face a 10/10. Highly recommend.”

“Well, it’s easy when you have such a great model to start with,” She smiled while looking up at Yoongi.

Yoongi had started to blush between the pair of compliments. “Is Hoseok here yet?”

“No not yet.” You took out your phone to see if you had any messages from Hoseok. Nope. You looked back up, “Bongcha, I’m sure you already know, but the make-up table is over there. Alice is setting up right now.”

“Great, thanks!” She headed over, her shiny hair swishing behind her.

Speak of the devil in blue himself, Hoseok strutted in at that exact moment wearing an electric blue suit. His crisp white shirt underneath popped beneath the jacket, and his pocket square had little sunshines on it.

“Wow. You look like the sky.” You said before you could help it.

“Thank you. Indeed. It was my inspiration today. It’s a crime to be indoors beneath these artificial lights on such a beautiful day. Oh well. It can’t be helped.” He laid eyes on Yoongi, like a predator gazing on its prey, “Yoongi. Baby. Come.”

Yoongi scrunched his face. “Don’t call me baby. If you miss the sunlight so much, leave. I know how to dress myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don't know which pieces go together.” Hoseok grabbed Yoongi by the shoulders and started leading him over to the clothing section, leaving you to laugh at the pair of them. You went over to the table you had set up for yourself between make-up and the food. You had printed off several lists that morning to help you stay focused. You checked off several action items. Satisfied, you sat your clipboard down and looked around. It was a well-oiled machine for sure. You walked over to the hair and make-up table. “Hey ladies.”

“Hey! Have you two met yet?” Alice asked, referring to Bongcha.

“Yep, we just did.” Bongcha confirmed, putting on her make-up apron and filling it with various powders and brushes.

“Ooooo we should do a make-up party sometime.” Alice squealed. “We try to do it with all the new girls. And since Yoongi is” she hushed her voice again “One of our favorites. We have to take care of his assistant.”

You smiled, “Sure. That sounds nice. Excuse me.” You decided to go see how the clothes were going.

“Yes. Yoongi’s assistant. So glad you’re here.” Hoseok turned to you.

“She has a name, it’s YN.” You heard Yoongi say from behind the curtain.

“Yes yes. I know. We talked yesterday, remember? At that meeting I scheduled for me and you that you did not come to. Anyways, here. The outfits are now coordinated. They have tags on them corresponding to their accessory in the accessory trunk. Some pieces have more than one option that the Director of Photography and Yoongi will decide on. Got it?”

You looked over the set up. It seemed simple enough since Hoseok had organized it so well .”Yep. You going out to enjoy the sunshine?”

“Honey, I am the sunshine. I’m off to get laid after having to deal with this cloudy baby.” He gestured to the changing room.

“Don’t call me baby.” Yoongi shouted from behind the curtain. You just laughed as Hoseok turned around and left. You waited for a few minutes.

“You ok in there? Need me to come help you put your pants on?” You teased.

“Not necessary.” Yoongi slid open the curtain. Why was everyone teasing him today? He pouted without thinking about it.

You walked over, straightening the collar of his shirt “Hey now, you can’t go around pouting like a baby and not expect people to call you one. Here,” you handed him a mandarin. He scowled at you as he took it. “Such a pretty face” You laughed.

“Yeah whatever. I can eat this while they set up the white meter. You should be fine to just hang around at this point.”

“Alright. Sounds good.” The two of you walked over to the main part of the set where the Director gave Yoongi instructions about where to sit as they practiced the blocking and softbox placement.

“Oh my god he looks so good eating that tangerine.” You overheard. Your eyes bugged out slightly and you turned around. A group of women from the photography team were looking at the images to check the saturation and focus, as well as apparently the model. Damn. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657

#BTS suga #bts writing #bts fic #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts suga x reader #bts suga x you

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jaehyunspeachparty · 3 years

Text

daddy jaehyun

iv.li. (a)

From now on Miga was also involved in the shooting. Jaehyun was really looking forward to it, because at least from now on he could at least spend time with one of his children again. And Miga was also happy that she didn't have to go to school and could just go to work with her father. "Are you nervous?", Jaehyun asked his daughter as he walked into the building with her hand in hand. But Miga shook her head confidently. "No!" She grinned and starts jumping. "Hello Jaehyun, Hello Miga. You have to go into mask immediately!" Immediately one of the directors came to the two and arranged the two in their place. "Yes, we are about to go." Jaehyun smiled and gently pulled his daughter in the right direction. "May I wear makeup?", Miga then asked her father and grinned. She knew he didn't like that, but she also knew that she had make-up on the last drama too. "I'm afraid so ..." Jaehyun sighed and opened the door. "I want to wear makeup like Mummy," she said and Jaehyun immediately shook his head. "No!" "But Mummy is pretty with makeup, I want to be pretty too." Miga sat down on the chair when they were in the room and crossed her arms. "You are so beautiful, you don't need any makeup." Jaehyun crouched in front of his daughter and looked at her. He didn't want her to feel compelled to conform to an ideal at some point. She should be confident and know that it's not just about looks. She grew up in a very superficial environment anyway, so she should have the comfort of the family. Jaehyun then pulled his daughter over and hugged her tightly in his arms. "Daddy you're squeezing too hard," she said then, giggling. "I just love you so much." Jaehyun kissed her head and he just enjoyed the time with her. But he always saw a part of you in Miga. She had inherited many attributes from him, like the eye color or hair color, but she had so many traits from you. And in those moments he realized how much he missed you and how much he just hated this fight right now.

Miga was really a natural when it came to acting. The directors and the other actors also said it was super easy with her. She also had a lot of fun doing it because she loved the attention. "Wow, we actually plan more time with children, but Miga is really a professional." The director turned to Jaehyun, who was almost bursting with pride. "Yeah, it's almost like she was born for the job." Jaehyun smiled and saw his daughter running to him. "Daddyyyy ..." She spread her arms and jumped over to her father. "Hey, you really did a great job. Did you enjoy it?" He hugged her tightly and kissed her head. Since she was on set, the work was much more bearable. He still missed his boys, but it was much better that his daughter was with him. "Yes it was funny. Gong Myeong is funny." She started giggling and pointing to the actor who was still talking to an assistant on set. Gong Myeong played Miga's father in the drama. "That pleases me." Jaehyun had to admit inwardly that he wasn't pleased. The mood between him and Gong Myeong is still tense. Of course he had seen the whole drama with him, you and Doyoung and stood by his brother side. The two had a very good relationship and Gong Myeong always stood by his brother, so Jaehyun was the bad guy in it all. "But I'm tired ..." Miga yawned briefly and Jaehyun wanted to go home as soon as possible anyway. He hoped he could at least get Sunoh to bed. "Okay, let's go home then. Okay?" He smiled and stroked her cheek. She nodded and the two of them went back to the dressing room to get their things, but then they met Minu. She was just on her way to the set and she looked really stunning. She wore a long elegant dress, her dark hair was curled and she wore a small tiara. It's for a dream scene. Jaehyun had already played in one himself. The drama was about her dreams and so there were a lot scenes about it. "Daddy, a princess." Miga looked at Minu with big eyes and was very enthusiastic. "Ohhh, thanks. You are Miga right?" Minu leaned down to the girl and smiled. "Yes, and you?" Miga leaned against her father's legs and almost got a little shy. "I'm Minu, a friend of your daddy's. I'm in the drama too." Minu smiled gently and Miga got very excited. "Do we play together?" "Yes, in a few scenes later." Jaehyun was surprised that she knew that exactly, because she could then tell his daughter the days. But Jaehyun didn't think about it anymore and Minu was already called by the director. "Okay, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." Minu grinned and Jaehyun wondered again why she knew that Miga would come again, he hadn't actually told anyone. But maybe Gong Myeong had mentioned it to her. Gong Myeong and Minu were a couple until recently. They had split up a month ago, but they were still talking to each other. "Bye!" Miga waved after her and looked again at her dress. "I want to look like a princess too," she said as Jaehyun pulled her into the dressing room.

It wasn't that easy to get away from the set because someone always wanted something from him or her. Jaehyun grabbed his daughter's backpack to be faster and gave it her. But then had Jaehyun still something to sign and didn't see his daughter discovering something. Miga suddenly reached into the bowl full of candy with one big hand and took as much caramel as she could and stuffed it into her backpack. "Miga! Not that much. You can't eat that much caramel." Jaehyun tried to stop his daughter, but she quickly closed her backpack "They are not for me." She pawed and turned to the side. "And who should they be for?" Jaehyun folded his arms in disbelief and raised an eyebrow. "For Mummy," she said then, and she sounded so serious and determined that Jaehyun suddenly became unsure. "Mummy? She doesn't like caramel." Jaehyun couldn't believe his daughter, but on the other hand the little girl couldn't really lie either. "Now she likes it. And Mummy is always so sad and candy makes me happy." Miga was worried about you and wanted to bring you caramel because of it. Jaehyun didn't know what to say because he knew the reason you were sad. The reason was he. "It's very sweet of you that you think about her," he said then, petting her head. Jaehyun glanced briefly at his daughter and he could hardly move. Miga saw that you were doing badly, but he wasn't. And he knew why you were sad, but what should he do? He was in the middle of filming and he was so scared that the children would turn from him away if he didn't look after them. But he didn't mean to neglect you either. But the time was hardly there.

"Mummy, we're back." Miga ran to you in the bedroom when she and Jaehyun were back and jumped to you on the bed. You're lying under the covers, feeling sick and dizzy. You vomited a few minutes ago and you hope no one smelled your bad breath. "Hey my sweetie, how was your day?" You hug her and kiss her cheek. "Funny. Everyone is so nice." She starts giggling and sits down in front of you with her backpack. Jaehyun sat carefully on the edge of the bed and watched the two of you. "I'm really happy about that." You brush her hair aside and look at her. You've been so sentimental and you almost cried for being so proud of her. "I brought you something." She opens her backpack and removed all the caramel. "This is for me?", You ask her and see how she continues to empty her backpack. "Yeah, you've been eating so much lately." She closed her backpack again and pushed the caramel towards you. "Yes, that's right. Thank you." You kiss her head and caress her cheek. "Come on Miga, it's time for bed." Jaehyun got up and held out his hand to his daughter. She also had to go back to set the next day and she should get enough sleep. While Jaehyun makes sure that Miga brushes her teeth, washes her face and goes to bed, you move the caramel aside. But you felt so dizzy that it took a long time to do it and then you went straight back to bed. You didn't remember when you were feeling so bad the last time. In your head you're already thinking about calling Mia so she could help you with the kids the next day. "Miga is already sleeping." Jaehyun came back to you and wanted to check for you too. He's been sleeping in the study lately and most of the time he never came back to the bedroom. "Good." You snuggle up in the blanket and nod. You were just too bad to react in any way. And Jaehyun noticed that and he began to worry. He went into the room, closed the door, and sat down in bed next to you. "Y/N, let's put our argument aside for a moment, because I'm worried about you." He stared into your bleary face and you had trouble to answer. "Everything is good." You didn't want to show that you were doing badly. Somebody has to take care of the children and he had to be at work tomorrow. "You're totally pale and your eyes are tired. And you eat caramel ... I think that's what worries me most." Jaehyun tried to bring in a bit of a joke, but you were too weak to react. "Apparently my tastes have changed." You torture yourself into a smile and turn a bit as your nausea got better. "I think the last time you ate caramel was when you were pregnant with Sunoh. You were totally crazy about it. I think I bought a new pack every second day." Jaehyun lay down next to you and you look at each other. "I also liked to eat caramel when I was pregnant with Miga, but I couldn't eat that with the twins." "I think you had most of the caramel cravings at Sunoh." "Yes, definitely." You had to smile and think about the time when you lived in your little apartment. Somehow the situation then reminded you of now. You also fought a lot and had a lot of drama in your life. "Is it okay if I sleep by your side this night? I don't want to leave you alone in this state." He looked at you with sad eyes and carefully put his hand to you. "Okay ..." You didn't have the strength to argue anyway and somehow it was good to have him beside you. Maybe the things will get better...

daddy jaehyun masterlist

#jaehyun #daddy jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun jung #nct #nct 127 #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 2020 #nct u

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 13

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1687

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 13

There was such a feeling of excitement and hope for you, Natasha, and Clint when you went in to do your glucose test and have your 18-week ultrasound. The pregnancy had now lasted longer than the one that Natasha had lost which was a big milestone. That had led to Natasha relaxing almost completely about the baby. She didn’t seem to get panicked about losing them at all, and she had started making plans for how she was going to actually raise them.

Discussions were had about schooling and who would stay home when they were young. If they should hire a nanny. If they should move away from the compound. She made guesses about whether it was a boy or a girl. She was genuinely excited and that excitement was no longer tinged with a fear of loss.

There was talking about turning the room that had been yours into the nursery and having it painted with a mural. You still had your apartment with most of your things, but for all intents and purposes, you lived with Natasha and Clint, sleeping in their bed every night. The three of you had been clicking even better than you had expected. The close friendship you had built with the side of casual sex had blended seamlessly into an actual honest-to-god relationship. All those little things that had made you such good friends in the first place; the easy humor, the playful teasing, the protectiveness, and trust - they all deepened and strengthened what you were creating together. Mornings were spent dragging each other up and out the door in a joint desire to just curl back into bed. Nights were spent exactly how they had always been spent - grabbing dinner and hanging out. There would usually be other people around. Steve and Bucky would come to play cards. Tony would invite the three of you up for dinner and there would be loud debates about the stupidest things while Morgan came and brought her favorite uncles and aunts things to look at. Kate would come and just sit on the couch eating pizza while snarking at or with Clint. The main difference now was there was more cuddling with each other and incidental touching, and at the end of the day, you’d all go to bed together.

As you all fell into that easy intimacy, you began to think more and more long term. It was a little scary how easy it was to think of the baby as your baby, but you’d already stopped worrying about things not working and were deep into loving the fact that they were.

So while you sat playing cards and waiting for the sugar drink to do what it needed to do so you could be tested for a disease you couldn’t possibly have due to your powers, the three of you made bets on if the baby was a boy or a girl and debated the pros and cons of having a mural of every famous archer from fiction painted on the wall, you felt like this was it. This was your family. These were your people. You were doing this together.

The drawing of your blood was always a complicated affair but you were more than used to it now. Your body fought things trying to break the skin, so needles had to be held firmly and moved around to stop your body from either forcing the needle out or closing up around it.

When you were finally done the three of you went to the ultrasound appointment practically buzzing with excitement to see the fetus and find out what you were having.

The gel was cold and it made you flinch when Cynthia squeezed it on your stomach. Natasha and Clint sat side by side next to you. Both of them holding your hand. Natasha’s fingers were linked with yours and Clint had his hand wrapped around them both. They were both looking between you and the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view. “How’s everything been going? No more morning sickness?”

“Nope, haven’t had it for a while,” you said as she began to press the paddle down on your stomach hard enough to make your bladder ache slightly. “I feel really good actually. Lots of energy.”

“That’s great. And the baby is kicking a lot?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, all the time,” you said. “Always grooving around in there.”

“Well, given who their parents are, that makes sense,” Cynthia joked. The baby came into view. Because of Natasha’s fear that you would miscarry you’d watched it turn from the weird little peanut shape to something that looked like a human baby. As they appeared on the screen now it looked just like a baby. You could see it waving its arms around and the toes on its feet. “Heartbeat is strong too. You’re doing good, mama.”

“They’re all good?” Natasha asked, her eyes fixed on the screen.

“Yes. Looking fine. The doctor will have to go over the scans but it’s looking good to me,” Cynthia said, as she took measurements.

“We can find out if it’s a boy or a girl today, can’t we?” Clint asked.

Cynthia grinned. “I was hoping you would ask that.”

She moved the paddle around, really pushing down hard against your stomach as she moved to the side. “Well,” she said as she angled the paddle so the image looked like the fetus was sitting on it. “It looks like this little one is a girl.”

“Really? How can you tell?” Clint said, a smile crossing his face.

“See here?” Cynthia said pointing between the legs on the ultrasound image. “Looks like a hamburger.”

Clint narrowed his eyes as his look and his brow furrowed. Slowly his eyes started widening and he burst out laughing. “Right! Gotcha!”

Natasha leaned over and kissed your forehead. “A little girl,” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed. “You’ve got a daughter, mama.”

“A daughter…” Natasha repeated, so softly it was barely audible.

The three of you finished up with the tech and then saw Kelly your Obstetrician. The pregnancy seemed to be going perfectly. Perhaps it would have anyway, but you liked to think it was your powers doing what they needed to do.

“A girl,” Natasha said as the three of you left the office.

You took her hand and entwined your fingers with hers. “We should have a baby shower.”

“We should,” Natasha agreed. “Maybe Wanda or Kate might like to help organize it.”

“We need to think of girl’s names,” Clint said. “Kate said if it was a girl we had to name it after her.”

Natasha laughed. “And what did you say to that?”

“I thought it would be a boy,” Clint said. “So I said I would.”

“Clint,” Natasha sighed. “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Clint teased, throwing his arm around Natasha’s shoulders.

“God knows why, but I do,” she conceded.

“So I’m guessing Kate is on the list then?” You asked, trying not to laugh.

“I guess so,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “We should write a list. I haven’t thought about names before. Not since… Rose.”

“That was her name?” You asked.

She nodded and pursed her lips, trying not to show emotion again. “Well, you can think of some now,” you said, gently squeezing her hand.

“We should write a list of all the things we still need to do. We haven’t prepared at all,” Natasha said.

“Well, I say having the baby shower first. Then we can see what we still need,” you said.

“That is a very good and intelligent point,” Natasha said. “But on the other hand, tiny shoe shopping.”

You started laughing. “I’m fairly certain we could get by with extra tiny shoes.”

“See, you are smart,” she said and bumped you with her hip. “And far be it for me to be all sappy and sentimental -” she leaned in close and nosed at your cheek. “But I love that we’re doing it together now. All of it.”

“That’s what she said,” Clint teased.

Natasha shook her head and elbowed him, trying very hard not to start laughing. “Can you not ruin my moment?”

“I made it better,” Clint teased. “But I do agree. Feels good, right?”

You hummed and wrapped your arm around Natasha’s waist and slipped your hand into Clint’s back pocket. “It does feel good. A little scary though. I was all ready to be an aunt. Now I’m picking names and stuff. But that’s what happens sometimes, right?”

“Hey, I was ready and I still find it scary,” Clint admitted. “I’m going to be a dad? Me? I drank coffee straight from the pot today and I’m going to be responsible for keeping an infant alive.”

“Well,” you said as you reached the apartment. “There are three of us. So it’s not just you.”

“Good thing too,” Clint joked, opening the door and letting you all in. “I can’t be trusted with things like that. I can barely keep myself alive.”

You went and sat down on the recliner, popping the bottom up so you could have your feet up. Clint looked from you to Natasha and raised his eyebrows. She nodded and Clint moved to your chair, kneeling beside it and looking up at you. “In fact,” he said. “I think it would be good if you properly moved in, don’t you? I mean, bring all your stuff in.”

You looked at him and then over to Natasha, a little shocked. It had only been a few weeks since you had agreed to try the relationship thing and this felt like a big jump. Then again, you had been living in their apartment for months and friends for years now. Not to mention if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t like it was impossible to get your apartment back. You lived at the compound, there were always apartments available.

You took a deep breath and let it out, a smile slowly spreading on your face. “Yeah, why not? Let’s do it.”

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha #clintasha x reader #hawkeye #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

give it to me good, you know i won’t get sick.

summary: some smut in the car.

warnings: cheating, age gap, spanking, some light choking.

word count: about 5,750

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: fun fact, i wasn’t even going to write this scene. i was just going to move on but then i started and it created itself really. not done with this but i don’t know where it’s going next.

part 1 x

Waiting for Andy felt like an eternity, yet you also felt like it was happening too soon, racing at you and you could do nothing to prepare. Not necessarily in the sense that you didn’t want this with him, but that you wanted to feel a little more grounded. This was impulsive and you felt exposed, more vulnerable than you had ever been. You wouldn’t have done it for any other guy, which was a problem because this guy was a married father.

But you couldn’t think like that, you couldn’t stop and actually consider your actions. The best-case scenario was that you would stop and run for the hills. However, you doubted that outcome since your body ached at the mere thought of walking away from this and denying yourself any time you could spend with Andy. The worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t stop at all, that even if you paused to really think about all that could go wrong, that you still wouldn’t care, that you were simply that selfish.

Never, more than in that moment, were you thankful for the huge, old, ugly car your father had given you. You had folded down the back seats and now you were laying in the spacious back, staring at the ceiling of your car. If someone were to approach you, there would be little modesty left of the situation. You were waiting for someone with a dildo in your cunt. It was utterly black and white.

You heard Andy’s car pull up and propped up on your elbows. He watched you closely as he parked his car behind yours and got out. It should have been illegal how beautiful he was in a simple white t-shirt and jeans.

He glanced around carefully, ensuring that there wasn’t a soul around before he climbed into your car. He closed the hatchback door and sat off to the side, silently watching you.

You arched an eyebrow. Certainly, he didn’t expect you to make the first move. That sentiment must have been written clearly across your face because he smirked a little.

“Show me.” Even with his request, he was the one that folded your skirt up. But because you were his good girl, you spread your legs for him.

His eyes locked on the sight and he sighed. “God, baby doll, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Are you going to fuck me with it, daddy?”

Finally, his eyes met yours and that awestruck look was gone. Andy was in charge here and neither of you would have it any other way. That meant that it was time to put slip back into his place of comfort, his safe setting of immense restraint. “Where’s the towel?”

“Front seat.”

He hummed, one hand pressing to your bare calf and sliding up as he leaned forward. He moved so that he was almost hovering over you, dragging his hand up your thigh, your stomach, grazing your breast, and then cupping your jaw. “We need to establish some rules.”

You scoffed. “Why?”

“Why?” he echoed almost incredulously. “Because you evidently need some discipline.”

Discipline—such a bland word that suddenly became much sexier. “If you give me rules, I’m just going to break them.”

“Not these,” he asserted. “Here’s the deal. If you tell me to stop, I will, no questions asked, no explanations necessary. If you ever feel uncomfortable, if I’m hurting you, you need to let me know. Do you understand me?”

You didn’t voice your confusion, he looked unwilling to bargain over the concepts “uncomfortable” and “hurting” anyway. But honestly, what did he mean? The idea of him ever touching you and you wanting him to stop seemed extremely unlikely. He kept his eyes on your face, patiently waiting for your answer. It was clear that nothing would occur without your agreement. “Okay. I understand.”

He moved up and reached into the front. “I said to bring a towel, not twenty.”

You’d brought three, just in case. “I wanted to be prepared.”

He scoffed, looking back at you. “Cute, but I’m not fucking you here. Not the first time, at least.”

“Oh, because your office desk will be so much better? Or the couch? So classy.”

“Don’t worry about the future. You should be completely focused on the fact that you’re not going to be able to sit for the next two weeks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

He arched an eyebrow, spreading one towel out at his side. “You trying to go for three?”

“Maybe longer,” you suggested. “I haven’t decided.”

He smiled a little, looked down to hide it. “Well, I’d pay your debt before you start adding onto it. You’re already in trouble for getting me here.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be here, daddy?” you spoke in a small voice, a warning. If he wanted to physically hurt you, you were into that. If he was going to imply that this was not something he wanted, well, that would hurt your feelings. That looked much different and you were a lot less nice.

He looked at you sincerely. “No place I’d rather be, beautiful. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how dangerous this is.” He leaned over you again, pulling your thighs further apart. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” you admitted and laid back against the seat. “But not bad.”

He grabbed the base of the toy and pulled it out of you.

You bit down on your lip, watching his eyes as they stared right down at your pussy. It didn’t hurt as much since you were so humiliatingly wet, the noise of it echoing in the car.

“Open your mouth.”

You did so immediately.

He placed the head of the fake cock on your tongue and pushed it in until you brought a hand up to his forearm. He’d touched the back of your throat and you wanted to let him know. “Close your mouth.”

You wrapped your lips around it, sucking lightly as he took it back. Once more, centimeter by centimeter, he pressed it back in and kept going until your body arched and you choked on it.

As he moved between your legs, he left the toy resting in your mouth. He set his hands over your thighs, keeping you open, and then you felt his tongue press flat against your pussy. Any sound you made was muffled by what was in your mouth.

He dragged his tongue up and your hands frantically reached down to his head. When he touched your clit, you swore you saw stars. He abruptly sat up, taking your wrists in his hands and you were quickly confused. Smirking, he kissed both of your palms. “Sorry, baby, you did say one quick, little taste.”

Your eyes widened at him. What the hell did that mean?

He moved back off to the side and pulled the toy from your mouth. After he set it on the towel, he told you to sit up. Another towel was laid out where you had been laying. “Okay, lie down, turn over and let me see that ass.”

You eagerly laid back down on your front side now, pulling your skirt up for him.

One of his hands trailed over the curve of your ass and you shivered. “Oh, daddy…”

He leaned into the front seat again and grabbed the last towel. “Open your mouth.”

Trying to change Andy’s mind was an impossible thing, but you were a little nervous. You’d never been spanked before, you’d never been gagged before. You’d never been with him before. This was a lot that was new, but you did it anyway because you wanted to make him happy.

He shoved a portion of the towel into your mouth and then bundled it up so you could lay your head down, which you did. “Give me your hand.”

When you pressed your palm to his, he linked his fingers between yours. “Okay, squeeze my hand once. That means stop.” You tried it out, nodding after. “Now squeeze twice, that means keep going.” Once more, you tried it.

“You understand?”

You nodded.

“You ever need me to stop or slow down, squeeze my hand once, okay?”

You nodded.

He moved closer to you and lifted your hips so he could drape you over his lap.

You closed your eyes, rolling onto your forehead from your cheek. If you moved, even a little, there was pressure from his thigh that you could feel on your clit. So, you did, you circled your hips, whining every time you pressed down right.

He swatted your skin lightly, a test smack but it startled you into remaining still. There was barely even a lingering sting. “Stop that,” he warned. “That wasn’t too hard?”

You shook your head.

“Do you want harder?”

You nodded.

The next spank on the opposite cheek was just that and so much noisier. Your body jerked away from the impact, eyes snapping open and immediately filling with tears. That was the kind of burn you were looking for.

“That was okay?”

You nodded as fast as you could and squeezed his hand twice.

“Do you know why daddy is spanking you?” You didn’t respond, so he continued. “Because you were being a tease. You’re not going to do that again, are you?”

You shrugged your shoulders as best you could and the next second his hand came down on your ass. Your squeal was drowned out by the echo of the slap. Your skin where he had hit you felt prickly and hot.

“Are you going to tease again?”

Instead of being cute, you nodded. Yes, you would tease him any chance you got. Because he liked it, because it made him want you. Because you were a fucking brat.

He spanked you again and your eyes fluttered shut. Your skin already felt raw and sensitive, but you saw yourself begging for more for at least the next ten minutes.

He smacked you several more times in silence. You were whimpering and whining, writhing and sore, and a tad overwhelmed—but you were not the kind of person who would ever tap out—and he was simply there, calm, collected, and in total control.

The sensations, that you were unable to see his face, that you couldn’t talk and probably misbehave, that was why you were overwhelmed. It wasn’t because this wasn’t enjoyable, you’d merely never given yourself to someone this way. You knew you never would again, not unless it was for Andy.

When he noticed you were crying, he ran his palm over your aching ass. “You need me to stop?”

You squeezed his hand twice, without thought or hesitation. The idea of him stopping now, of him getting in his car and driving away, you couldn’t bear it. Maybe you should have asked him to stop, but the sooner that happened, the sooner he would be gone.

“Are you sure?”

You squeezed again, much harder this time.

He smacked you fast and then gripped that cheek in his hand. “You are soaking my pants right now, angel. You like getting your perfect little ass spanked by daddy?”

You nodded.

“What about your pussy? You want me to spank you there?”

Oh, god.

“Spread your legs wide if you do.”

Instantly, you were parting your thighs until your shin reached the side of the car, then you bent your knees and yanked your legs up as high as you could. You tried to brace yourself, you tried to tell yourself you knew how it was going to feel, you were wrong. As he smacked his hand flat against you, fingers curling under and hitting your clit, your body spasmed. The pain was immediate but ended quickly, only to be replaced with the painfully consuming desire for it to happen again.

Your hips jerked back, lifting off Andy’s lap, and your knees dug into the rough lining in the back of your car.

“Careful, princess,” he warned. He pressed you back down with a hand on your ass. He took that same hand and reached under to rub one of your knees. “You liked that?”

You nodded, moaning around the towel.

He extracted his hand from yours. “Open your mouth.” Once you had, he pulled the towel away. He yanked you up, turning you to face him. “You bring the other things I tell you?”

Lotion, you had set it under all the towels so your reckless driving wouldn’t throw it under the seat. The panties you had been wearing throughout the day before you had arrived home to find his gift, those were on the seat, too. The other little toy you had missed the first time in the box he sent you, a gorgeous baby pink plug with a gemstone heart at the end. The toy cleaner, of course.

“Yes.”

He leaned around the seat and returned with the lotion. “Come here.”

You crawled closer to him, trying to avoid your sensitive knees. You had scratched them up quite terribly.

He took one of your hands and lifted you onto your knees. He poured some lotion on his hand and reached around you to pull your skirt up with the opposite.

You fought the urge to squirm when you felt cold on your stinging skin.

“That feel better?”

“Yeah.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“It does,” you promised, “just hurts a little.”

“You want to use the plug another day?”

Hell no. You’d never experienced want like this. You’d never felt your body so greedy, so willing and ready to be filled as much as possible. It was a longing to be complete. “Doesn’t hurt that much.”

He scoffed. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you agreed.

“Always ready for what daddy wants to give you.”

“Are you going to kiss your good little girl, daddy?”

He wrapped an arm around the small of your back and pulled you closer.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled your chest against his. “Please kiss me, daddy.”

His hand touched your face slowly, so softly, all to tuck some hair behind your ear. He pressed his palm to your cheek and leaned in.

At the risk of sounding uncaring of your autonomy and desires, you only wanted what Andy wanted you to have. Did you always wish for his hand around your neck, fingers in your mouth, cock in your pussy, even if he wasn’t currently handing you all of that wrapped in a huge bow? Yes. But would you ask for it? Not unless promoted. You wanted to be spoiled, showered in attention and his touch, but you did not want to have to ask for it. You expected it, so, as if you were some innocent, submissive, you waited for him with the patience of a saint.

That resolve shattered when his lips barely brushed yours. You were like a match that had been lit. You moved closer to straddle him and his hand draped down your back where he grabbed your ass over your tiny skirt. It soon became this filthy, open-mouthed exchange of oxygen and obscene, desperate sounds. You pulled at his top lip and he at your bottom in what was clearly a power struggle. One that he did not intend to lose, which you should have expected.

You sat down on his lap and only managed to roll your hips once before he had his hand tangled in your hair and yanked you back.

As he carefully laid you down, he was growling words into your neck between tiny kisses and bites. “This is why I can’t give you anything. You take and take like the greedy little brat that you are.”

He settled his torso between your thighs, forearms set on either side of your head. As his mouth sought yours out again, you brought both hands down and pressed them to his stomach. Even through his shirt, you could feel the muscle there, but you wanted more. When his tongue was moving in your mouth, you yanked his shirt up and touched him, humming in satisfaction at all the dips and hard skin you felt.

Your hips had only bucked once, your soaking pussy barely grazing his skin before he set his weight fully onto you and pinned you down completely. You had wanted him to kiss you, but you didn’t have the highest opinions of kissing in general. Up to that point of your life, it was solely to fill the time that it took you and whoever you were fucking to undress.

Andy was much different. He accused you of taking advantage of what he gave but he demanded. He didn’t ask, he saw you as his, his little girl, his possession. He kissed you and he made it count because this could end at any time. Someone could stumble along this scene right now and it would all fall apart.

He was the one who pulled away, kissing your chin, the tip of your nose, and one last parting peck on your lips. He traced your cheekbone with his fingers as he stared at you, considering his next move for a moment. “Get on my lap.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Once he was sitting back on the heels of his feet, you nearly lunged at him. Before you could get too close, he caught you by the waist and turned your back to him. When you sat down, he brushed a hand through your hair several times before grabbing a handful and yanking the back of your head onto his shoulder. Then, he draped your thighs around his and spread his legs to open your pussy for him.

He slowly rolled your skirt up and turned down. “You’re dripping, sweetheart.” He massaged the inside of your thigh with one hand for a few moments, watching your face as he did. When he smacked your pussy again, you cried out sharply, grabbing at his thighs for some balance.

“Daddy!” you whined. “Do it again, please.”

He did so twice, one directly after the other. To prevent you from moving away from him too much, he wrapped his free arm around your waist and held you down. He waited then, letting you settle against him fully before he slapped you again.

Your legs tried to snap shut but his thighs were in the way. You tried to fold forward but he had you pinned against him. You had nothing to do but wait there until the pain subsided, which only made it last longer.

Once he was sure you were able to stay seated on your own, he let you go to grab the dildo. You bit your lip, whimpering as he brought it close. He spread your legs wider as he pressed the toy inside you. In mere seconds, you were squirming and moaning, pleading over and over, mindlessly ‘daddy, please’.

He knew when to stop, when the toy was about to get too big for you. He left it settled inside you, then brought his fingers up to your clit. Your eyes shut sometime during the agonizingly slow, barely-there circles, but snapped open when he smacked your cunt once more.

“Daddy,” you gasped, fingers digging into his jeans. You felt yourself pulsing around the toy, and if you moved enough you could hear it shifting because you were dripping.

Again, his arm wrapped under your breasts to hold you right where you were, then he took his opposite hand and slapped you five times, so fast that you only had a chance to cry out twice before he was rubbing more circles into your clit. “You like having your cunt spanked?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed. It made even those simples touches that you were used to, a billion times better. You’d fucked a lot of fingers, Andy’s included, but you were extra sensitive this time. Your skin was shocked by the contrast in how gentle he was one moment to how rough he was the next. “Daddy, I think I’m gonna come.”

“Not yet, baby.” He pulled his fingers away from you to grab the toy. He slid it out almost completely before he shoved it back in.

You threw your head back onto his shoulder. “Fuck me faster, daddy, please.”

He picked up this steady pace that wasn’t too much for you. He made sure to mark the spot on the fake cock where you could simply not fit anymore, he had his finger set there and sometimes you would feel it brush against you as he thrust the toy back in. He was careful, controlled, and you were reckless and wanting.

He stopped when he suspected you were getting too close and his hand came down on your pussy. He scoffed at how audibly wet you were, bringing that hand up to your cheek so he could grab your face and turn you to look at him. “You’re really making me want to fuck you.”

You knew he was bluffing but the thought still made your cheeks flush. You could not wait for the day you finally felt him inside you. You wondered how he would look at you during, after, if he would worship you even more. That prospect was thrilling.

“Pull up your shirt.”

He only let you go so you could yank your top over your breasts, but then his arm was wrapped right back around you. You were immeasurably thankful you hadn’t wanted to put on a bra earlier.

He let go of your face to grab one of your hands and brought it up to your nipple. He made you squeeze it between your fingers until it was barely tolerable and told you to do it on your own with your other breast. He watched you the entire time, this gleam in his eyes, this amazement that no one else had ever looked at you with.

You were pinching both nipples, tugging on them like he told you to, when he smacked between your legs again. He continued spanking you, several more times all rougher than the last, until you were crying out loud enough that he worried someone might hear you from outside the car.

His fingers took to circling your clit again and you were instantly so close. “You’ve been such an angel for me. The second that I can, I’m going to fuck you so good.”

“Daddy,” you whined. Now he was teasing—when? When was he going to fuck you? Did he honestly think the two of you were going to hold out until summer? You would let him fuck you anywhere. Anywhere. His house, yours. His bed, yours. Even your parents’ fucking bed wasn’t off-limits if you needed it. There were no limits, you were both insane. Selfish. Awful. Toxic.

“I’ll fuck you all over the house,” he promised. “I want you on my desk. I’ll bend you over and teach you to behave when you get bratty. You want that, baby? “

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He smacked you and you shuddered. You were reaching the end, these small slaps were starting to feel good enough that you were officially seeing stars and feeling that familiar built-up tension that always preceded an orgasm. “What else do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want to ride you in your chair.” He hit you again and you fell apart against him. Your body was spent, your pussy was screaming for a release. You had been under the impression that it couldn’t get worse when you were in your bed, his voice over the phone telling you not to come, to wait a second. You were wrong. That was blissful, agonizing hell.

“What else?” he pressed.

You were breathless, shaking and waiting for him to smack you again. Your hips were trying to inch forward to meet his fingers, but he wouldn’t allow it. “I want you to choke me with your cock.”

And then he rewarded you with another strike. This continued, a generous hit after every admission, until you were slurring and crying, tears rolling down your cheeks, sobs sounding every time his hand contacted your cunt.

You told him you wanted him to tie you up, to wrap his hand around your throat, you wanted him in complete control of you. You told him you wanted him to fuck you in the shower, then in front of the bathroom mirror. You told him you wanted to sit on his cock while he was working and hold him there inside you. You told him you wanted him to lay you down on the kitchen table and eat your pussy.

You were out of your mind with need by the time you stopped speaking intelligibly, you just needed him to make you come. You felt like you were on the edge of insanity, you would go mad if he didn’t give you something.

His hand come up from your waist and circled around your neck. “You want to come, baby girl?”

You nodded, choking out, “Please.”

He settled you on the floor of the car, off his lap but his legs still prevented yours from closing. He spread you wide, his knees digging into yours, and smacked your pussy harder than he had ever before. When you were about to scream, his hand tightened around your neck so much that it caught in your throat. “Fuck yourself with the toy.”

Mindless, your hand dove down, frantically using it to aid in your orgasm. Your body was exhausted, shaking within seconds, still trying to recover from everything he’d done to you, overwhelmed by your approaching finish. “Daddy…”

“You close?”

“Yes, please! Please, I need you to make me come, daddy!”

He took the toy from your hand and used both hands to pleasure you. One was carefully sliding the toy in enough that it would hit that spot inside you, while the other was slapping against your clit with enough force that you were screaming and crying because you simultaneously wanted it to stop right then but also keep going for the rest of your life.

“I want you to come really hard, okay? Can you do that for me, princess?”

You did just that. There was no other way to describe it. It was like you had snapped like you were a rubber band. You held onto him so tight that your fingers cramped, you screamed and sobbed for him, your body jerked and spasmed without your permission and only in response to him. For a moment, you felt as if you were not your own, it was a display of submission and you enjoyed every disgusting, pathetic second of it.

He fucked you through your finish with the toy and you were too high to care that it hurt a little. “You’re still so fucking tight.”

And you’d gotten tighter while you were coming but he seemed unwilling to be sensitive to that. You understood why. It was all about his control and how it was slipping. Come summer, he wanted to fuck you. This was all prep, he would make sure your cunt was capable of taking him by the time he finally had you back in his home. However, you wanted to savor this because it probably wouldn’t happen again. You suspected more phone sex, more video chatting, more toys. This in-person thing was too risky.

“But I’m really wet,” you pointed out.

He hummed.

“So, if you did wanna fuck me right now—”

He pinched your thigh and you yelped. “Don’t even start that.”

“Start what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t start teasing. Otherwise, I’ll have to bend you over my knee again.”

You bit your lip to hide your smirk.

He removed the toy from your pussy, bringing it up solely so you could see the mess you’d made of it. He lowered it, letting the tip drag down your pussy until it was right at your asshole. “Ever been fucked here?”

You shook your head. Your boyfriend? No, never. You didn’t trust him to know what he was doing enough that you would have any good experiences. So, you always pretended to be wildly against the idea.

He let the tip of the toy press into your tight hole. You tried to keep from moving too much but as soon as you felt the head stretch your asshole, your back arched. He pulled it out completely and you elected not to tell him that hurt, especially not since he repeated it several times and you simply needed more. Painful or not, you liked it, but you weren’t sure how much you were supposed to like it. None of your friends seemed particularly fond of it so you’d always presumed it would be a sexual act you would perform if you liked your partner enough, you never expected to like any part of it.

After he set the toy aside, he let you rest against him as he reached into the front seat for the rest of the items you’d brought along. You were sated and exhausted and felt no need to do anything other than cling to him.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. You had only touched a handful of times, but this didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. You felt safe and you knew he would take pride in that. But maybe you needed to be the brakes, maybe you needed to make sure this didn’t cross an emotional line. Andy was so emotional, he seemed consumed by it sometimes, it made him such a great lawyer, father, husband at times. You wouldn’t change a thing, but you would be cautious where he was not.

After a few silent moments, he laid down with you. You were on his side, one of his thighs between yours, your arm draped over his stomach and your head on his shoulder. His hand started at your back, tracing small shapes into your skin over your shirt, then he reached into your hair and ran his fingers through it.

Your eyes fell shut when his opposite hand reached over and touched your thigh underneath your skirt. He massaged your skin up until he reached your pussy, then two of his fingers slipped into you. “Fuck, daddy!”

He kissed the top of your head. “Stay still, honey.” He slowly pulled those fingers out and brought them to your asshole. You shivered when you felt them. “You still want this?”

You nodded.

“We can do it another day.”

You shook your head. “I want it today.”

He pressed his first finger in and you gasped. He watched your face closely for any signs of discomfort that he didn’t think you would voice, still using the hand in your hair to keep you relaxed.

It felt weird for only a second. You were more cautious of your limits here, but you still wanted so much more of him. More fingers, his cock, anything you could possibly get from him.

He slowly and carefully moved his finger in and out of your ass until you shoved back toward his hand. He knew that was you asking for more, he gave you another finger.

You squirmed until you were comfortable, which only happened after your cunt had settled against his pants. As he pulled his fingers back, you would angle your hips forward to get stimulation for your clit. As he pushed in, you would press back to help him get in deeper.

Once he completely removed his fingers, you felt the plug pressing against your hole. “You sure you can take it?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He impatiently pushed it all the way in and your hand clutched at his chest. For a moment, there was not an ounce of pleasure to be found, only pain and the feeling of being unnaturally stretched. His hand came up to your face, touching your cheekbone as he whispered to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’ll feel good in a second.”

He was right, of course. It hurriedly faded away and was replaced by the comforting sensation of being full.

He noted your fingers weren’t digging into his skin any longer. “How’s it feel?”

You nuzzled the side of your face against his shoulder, shifting your hips experimentally. You really liked it, but there was one thing missing. “I want to feel your fingers in my pussy, daddy.”

His hand shot down and once more, he roughly fucked two fingers into you.

You turned your face further toward him to stifle the sound you made. He began to curl his touch into that spot and your hips moved without any permission from your brain. You were nearly animalistic, focused solely on coming one more time.

You felt him press against the plug and a mere second later, it was vibrating. Your immediate response was to pull away from the abrupt movement, but it was locked tight in your body. “I think it’s too much, daddy.” Your eyes were crossing, you were losing your sense of direction and reality. Then, his thumb pressed firmly against your clit in these skilled, tiny circles and you knew you were so fucked.

“It’s not,” he insisted. “You can take it. My good girl can take it.”

He found you absolutely stunning. Your skin was flushed, your swollen lips parted as these shameless, wild, musical sounds filled the car. He’d never met someone like you, with a body that longed to be owned and fucked and ruined. It was his favorite thing about you, along with your unrelenting desire for him and your natural obedience and submission.

Your next orgasm was nothing short of harsh. All these sensations threw you off a cliff and into the ocean that was Andy. You completely bent to his will, anything he wanted was a wave that you were powerless to. You didn’t tell him to stop when your hips were jerking every direction due to overstimulation, you didn’t tell him to remove the plug or his fingers even though you were getting dizzy. You no longer felt that it was your place to tell him what to do. You’d handed your body over to him with the unspoken fact that you didn’t mind being possessed. You were undeniably, wholeheartedly his.

requests to be tagged:@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo

#andy barber x reader #and the curse continues. i said i was going to post and then i fell asleep lol.#but here we are #my writing

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump 28: "You Have to Let Me Go"

@badthingshappenbingo

I legitimately didn't think I was ever going to finish this, so seeing that I finally have is fricken awesome. I'm so excited!

Welcome to the newest branch of The Family Tree — similar but not related to Decadent — Delusion!

Prompt: bthb - the collector ; febuwhump - "you have to let me go"

Fandom: Ducktales 2017

Characters: Huey, Dewey, and Louie

Summary: Doofus wants to have more than just one friend-present. He gets his wish.

Trigger Warnings: burning, torture, kidnapping, possessive whumper, drowning, and once again Doofus Drake needs his own warning

2377 words

“What do you want with us?” Huey asked, cautious.

Doofus smiled, like he was thrilled to have been asked. “Llewellyn is so lovely, and he just makes such a wonderful friend-present. It only makes sense that I should have the full set.”

Dewey raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “The full set? What are you, some rare Barbie collector?”

Doofus narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond immediately.

“Dewey,” Louie warned.

Dewey, like the reckless idiot he was, waved him off.

“As I was saying,” Doofus continued, “I wanted the whole set, so I got the whole set.”

“Ooh, do we come with accessories?” Dewey asked, leaning forward like he was really interested. For all Huey knew, maybe he was. Dewey was like that.

“Shut up,” Louie hissed, glaring at Dewey. Huey shared the sentiment. He didn’t know what Doofus would do if they annoyed him enough.

“What is he gonna do, sick his butler on us?” Dewey asked, rolling his eyes. “This is child’s play.”

Huey resisted the urge to point out the fact that they were, in fact, children, making his point meaningless, but it didn’t seem too helpful right now.

“Dewey, stop,” Louie insisted.

Doofus glared at Dewey, but Dewey wasn’t even looking at him. He was way too relaxed about this whole thing. They didn’t know what Doofus was capable of. Dewey was just seeing this another fun adventure where they got kidnapped by some guy who was all bark and no bite for like, thirty minutes maximum. Which, to be fair, did happen quite often, but this felt different.

“You’re not being a very good friend, Dewford,” Doofus said, looking legitimately disappointed in him. “I expected better of you.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Huey looked at him, concerned, but Dewey didn’t acknowledge it. It seemed like there were quite a few things he wasn’t acknowledging, actually.

“I think you need a little trip to my honey bin,” Doofus said, and though Huey had no idea what that was, the threat was clear.

Dewey cocked his head to the side. “You mean money bin.”

“No, I don’t.”

Louie went pale, and that was enough for Huey to intervene. “He didn’t mean it!” he cried, nervously glancing between a continuously carefree Dewey and the rich psychopath.

“Too late! Come, dear Dewford,” Doofus said, releasing him from the bracelet’s hold and grabbing him firmly by the arm. “You can think about how to be a better friend while you’re in there.”

Dewey turned to point a finger-gun at his brothers, clicking his tongue.

“He’s going to get us killed,” Huey mumbled illy.

Louie shook his head, tugging at his bracelet as he did so. “He won’t kill us,” he mumbled miserably. “It will be worse.”

Huey looked at him in alarm, but Louie didn’t opt to explain further.

“Okay, we’ve got to get out of here,” he said decisively, a new energy coursing through him now that they weren’t in the same room as their captor. He squirmed, trying to get his wrist out, but just like Louie, he had no luck. “Do you by chance have any butter?”

Louie stared at him. “Butter.”

“If we get all buttery, we might be able to get the bracelets off without dislocating our thumbs!”

“Oh, of course. Yes, Huey, let me just grab that butter I carry with me everywhere!” Louie said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“It’s the only plan I have!” Huey cried, doing his best to stay calm. They had no clue what was happening to Dewey right now, and based on everything that had happened since they’d been captured, he got the feeling Doofus was seriously unstable.

He was scared, and he didn’t think well under pressure.

Very, very faintly, they heard Dewey scream.

“Oh god,” Louie whispered.

“We need to help him!” Huey shouted, frantically yanking at his arm, like the whole thing would just come loose if he tried hard enough. His arm was already getting sore, but he ignored it. “This thing has got to have a fault somewhere! Or an off switch!”

“The only off switch is the remote that Doofus keeps on him!” Louie said, grunting as he tried to get free.

“And we can’t break them,” Huey panted, slumping over as he caught his breath. “What are we gonna do?”

“You won’t be doing anything.”

Huey froze mid-yank, slowly lowering his arm again. Doofus was standing in the doorway, Dewey beside him.

Dewey didn’t look so lighthearted anymore. His feathers were all disheveled and sticky looking, and he was just staring into space blankly. Huey had no idea what the hell Doofus had done, but he definitely didn’t want to know. It was hard to shut Dewey up, even when his life was threatened.

Actually, maybe he did want to know. Anyone who hurt his brother was going to pay.

Dewey was placed with a level of great care, much like a doll, or an action figure, back where he’d been before, between Huey and Louie. Both of them shuddered.

“You have to let us go,” Huey said, hoping to God he could reason with him. “You can’t just keep us here!”

“But I can,” Doofus replied easily.

Louie gave Huey a desperate sort of look, like he was trying to silently project his own thoughts into Huey’s brain. He tried to focus on it, on the off chance that twin sense was real, but he wasn’t getting anything. Huh.

He turned his focus back to Doofus. He knew he was on thin ice, but Doofus was just a kid, like them. “Come on,” he said, “we would be happy to be your friends!” he ignored the quiet “no we wouldn’t,” from Louie, plowing forward anyway. “You don’t have to kidnap us to get that! Don’t you think you may be overreacting just a little bit?”

“Overreacting?” Doofus shouted, overreacting.

“No! No, I didn’t mean you were overreacting!” Huey cried, attempting to backtrack. “Even if you are kind of crazy — no wait I didn’t mean that!” Oh boy, he was only burying himself deeper and deeper with every word he spoke. Why couldn’t he have been born with Louie’s smoothness?

Doofus did not look happy, and Huey let out a tiny squeak, looking side to side like a magical exit would appear before them.

Dewey snapped to life, purposefully placing himself in front of Huey. “Don’t touch him,” he growled.

“Dewey, no!” Huey said, doing his best to shove past him. “I’m not letting you get hurt again!”

“And I’m not letting you get hurt at all!” Dewey insisted.

“How sweet,” Doofus said, and Huey honestly couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be mocking or sincere. Doofus was… well, he was Doofus, and he had a very… interesting way of going about things. “You’re coming with me,” he continued, ignoring Dewey entirely and leading Huey towards the door.

“No!” Dewey begged.

“I’ll be fine, Dew,” Huey said, smiling as best he could in an attempt to reassure him. It didn’t seem to be working well.

Doofus pulled him from the room.

“What’s the honey bin?” He asked, tripping over himself as he tried to keep up.

“Oh, you won’t be going there,” Doofus said dismissively. He looked like Dewey did when he was trying to hide some silly secret, and Huey didn’t like it.

They ended up outside, at the top of the treehouse.

“Servants!” Doofus snapped. “Prepare the gravy bath!”

Huey stared at him blankly. “The gravy what now?”

“You’ll see,” he replied gleefully. Not a normal type of glee, of course — Huey was quickly learning that there was very little about this kid that was normal (and not in the type of way that Huey wasn’t “normal”, either). It was worrisome.

“The gravy bath,” the butler echoed hauntedly. Huey, his concern growing, could only look at him in confusion.

“The gravy bath,” Doofus began, “is one of my favorite pastimes.” Well that couldn’t be good. “And if it doesn’t work, I’m sure there are… other methods of teaching you how to be a better friend.”

The maid and butler dragged out a bathtub (from where, Huey had no idea), scurrying away the moment it was (presumably) in place.

“Seriously, what is a gravy bath?” Huey asked nervously. He would have tried to back away had Doofus not been gripping his arm so tightly.

Said duckling shoved him into the empty tub, and Huey grunted in pain as he landed. Still, this was an open tub, which meant it might have been his only chance to flee.

He flailed about, nearly throwing himself over the opposite edge of the tub. The butler forced him back in, but Huey didn’t stop struggling, even as his bracelet activated. Doofus grabbed his free hand tightly, pulling a second bracelet from his pocket and slipping it over Huey’s wrist.

With both of his hands now glued to the bottom of the tub, Huey was stuck.

The two adults then proceeded to wheel out what looked like a giant… gravy boat. And when he said giant, he meant giant. It looked big enough to function as an actual boat. He was pretty sure he, Dewey, Louie, and Webby could fit in there if they squeezed.

“Wonderful! Servants, you’re dismissed.”

They all but ran to the elevator, barely missing a beat. As scared as he was, Huey couldn’t blame them.

“What are you going to do?” he asked again, looking up at the boat nervously. Was that steam coming off of it?

Doofus’s beak twitched into a smile, and he pulled out a small blue remote.

Huey began squirming again, his stomach churning in anxiety for what could be coming. Doofus wasn’t actually that crazy, was he?

He got his answer when a small beep sounded from the remote. The gravy boat tipped, and something hot (very, very hot), poured over Huey’s head.

He shouted, fighting against the restraints with every ounce of his willpower. It burned. And it was spreading, a continuous stream of the stuff (was this actual gravy?) raining down on him.

It was splattering onto Doofus’s clothes, but he didn’t even seem to mind.

“Turn it off!” Huey begged, crying out at the pain. It was a thousand times worse than any other burn he’d ever received, and there was nothing he could do to get away.

It began to pool around him, burning his hands. He couldn’t. Get. Away.

“Please,” he sobbed, breath hitching and unable to stop the tears.

It was like the time one of his particularly horrible bullies had attempted to shove him into the fire at a Junior Woodchucks camp out, but so much worse.

Not only was this actually successful, but he would have been pulled from that fire in seconds had he actually been pushed in. This was constant, never ending pain, thick liquid fire pouring over him like molten lava.

It was in his eyes, now, blinding and burning and pain pain pain.

A hand grabbed him, and suddenly it was tenderly wiping the fire from his eyes, jerking him forward so it streamed down his back instead.

Huey cried even harder.

All he could taste was the gravy, burning his feathers, his tongue, his everything.

It hurt. So bad.

The tub was nearly filled, the lower half of his body completely submerged in the stuff. Finally, after what must have been eternity, the stream dripped to a stop.

He let himself hope, for a meager few seconds, that it was over. But hope was hard to come by when one was literally sitting in a tub of burning gravy.

Doofus placed his hand on Huey’s head, tangling his fingers in Huey’s hair for a moment — wait. When had his hat come off? — before abruptly gripping it so hard that Huey couldn’t keep another sob in. His head was shoved violently down, and suddenly his entire body was on fire all at once.

He couldn’t breathe. He was choking on the stuff. No air. No nothing. Just heat, just pain, just the hand forcefully holding him under.

He didn’t know how Doofus could stand to have even his hand touching it.

His head went blurry. Was blurry the right word? He couldn’t remember. Everything was heavy and floaty and — he was dragged back up.

Huey coughed and sputtered, taking in as much air as he could manage. Everything hurt.

The bracelets must have been released at some point, because then he was being lifted from the tub, gravy spilling over the side. He was too weak to even attempt to fight back as Doofus dragged him back inside.

Distantly, he wondered who was going to clean up the gravy that was getting all over the carpets. Probably that maid and butler. He felt kind of bad for them.

The gravy that still coated his feathers, at the very least, wasn’t too unbearable anymore. But the burns he’d received were, and he had the suspicion that he wouldn’t be receiving medical attention. He sniffled.

He felt so gross, so… wrong.

“Wait,” he gasped, still struggling to breathe properly. “My — my hat,” he said, “and my guidebook, can I have them back?”

“Oh, those? I’m afraid the gravy ruined them,” Doofus replied, in such a casual manner that it took Huey a moment to actually process it.

“What?” he choked out, his heart dropping in his chest.

He was dragged through the door, his mind reeling. Louie and Dewey audibly gasped at the sight of him. He could only be thankful that the gravy managed to cover the burn marks that would no doubt be underneath.

“What did you do to him?” Louie asked nervously as Huey was placed back in his spot.

Doofus smiled. “Don’t fret, my sweet,” he said, wrapping his arms around Louie in a way that made Huey want to vomit. “He’ll be fine. And as for you… well, I have something special planned for you.”

It seemed, thank goodness, that he didn’t plan to act on whatever it was right now, because with that, he released Louie, spun towards the door, and left them alone.

Huey wiped his eyes with his free hand. They needed to get out of here.

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shellyseashell · 3 years

Text

GOLD RUSH

Chapter Three - Not As Bad

Note: @kotlc2021collab here’s the third chapter!

Masterlist

TIRED OF LINH and Marella and deciding to get some work done, Sophie had left the cafeteria after she finished her lunch. She had promptly gotten a text from Grady, saying that they needed to talk whenever she was available. Since she still had fifteen minutes until lunch ended, she decided to call him.

“What did you need to talk about?” Sophie asked once Grady had answered.

There was a silence on the other side, and for a minute Sophie thought Grady might not have heard her. But before she could repeat herself, there was a sigh and Grady said, “It’s about Iggy.”

Sophie froze. Iggy, her rabbit, had had health problems in the past, but they’d never been too serious. Still, bringing up Iggy and anything negative made her heart pound. She’d had Iggy for years, ever since she had been adopted. He’d been one of the things that had helped her adjust. Why she’d been allowed to get a rabbit and not a dog, she didn’t know. “What about Iggy?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“He’s sick again,” Grady said, confirming Sophie’s fears.

Taking a deep breath, Sophie leaned back on the shelf behind her. “How sick?”

A pause. Sophie’s heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest, and she was sure she’d get kicked out because of how loud it was pounding. The silence was too long. And then, “He’s probably not going to make it, Sophie.”

There it was. Her worst fear confirmed. Iggy was dying.

“I’m sorry I told you during school,” Grady said quietly.

“No, I’m the one who called you,” Sophie said. “Thanks — thanks for telling me. I’ll see you at home.”

She hung up. Sophie stifled a sob as she slid down the shelf and curled her knees up to her chest. The library was most definitely not the place to cry, but she didn’t have the energy to get up. Iggy was dying. Iggy was dying. It was the only thing she seemed able to think of, and she didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching her.

“Sophie?” Out of all people, it had to be her.

Wiping tears off her face, Sophie stood and leveled her glare at Biana. She was surprised to find the girl looking at her with concern. “What do you want?”

“Are you okay?” Biana ignored her question.

Sophie crossed her arms over her chest. “Like you care.”

Biana glared at her, but her expression quickly softened. “Look, you’re clearly upset about something. Better to tell someone what’s wrong, even if it's someone you hate.”

Sophie had a lot of arguments against that logic, but the fight had drained from her, and she slumped back down on the ground. “Iggy is dying.”

Biana sat down next to her. “Iggy is your rabbit, right? Fitz has told me about him.”

Sophie nodded. “I’ve had him since I was adopted. He’s had health problems in the past, but they’ve never been that bad. Now, though . . .”

Biana placed a hand on Sophie’s arm. “I’m sure your parents will do their best to help him.”

It was the only thing they could do.

Sophie let out a sob she muffled with her arm, and Biana did something unexpected. She hugged Sophie. Wrapping her arms around her and pulling her to her chest. Sophie stiffened, not expecting that sort of affection from Biana, but soon softened and started crying.

Biana let her cry. She let her cry and cry and cry some more. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there sobbing, but somehow, when her breathing was even and she could see again, Biana was still there. Though she hated Biana, there was something oddly comforting in curling up against the girl and letting her comfort her. She didn’t want to leave.

But she knew she had to, and she might as well not make this awkward.

She pulled away from Biana, ignoring how she looked disappointed. “What were you doing here anyway?”

“I was coming to do research,” Biana said with a small grin. “Guess you had the same idea, huh?”

“Yeah, until the whole ‘Iggy is probably going to die’ thing,” Sophie said, her eyes welling up again as she choked out the words. Sophie coughed and blinked away the tears. “But we should look for some books while we have time.”

Biana nodded, and so they got searching.

They didn’t talk the rest of the time, each girl absorbed in their task. As Sophie flipped through the various books, her mind wandered to both Iggy and Biana.

Iggy, because she didn’t know what she’d do without him. Of all the animals to die, it had to be him. Not that she wanted any of them to die — each death brought on a wave of grief, even if short lived. At this point, she should have been used to animals dying and not being able to do anything. It was a normal occurrence. Still, this was Iggy, and Iggy was different.

And so was Biana. Biana, her enemy, had seen her crying and hadn’t laughed. She had comforted her, and made sure she was okay. She didn’t know where the sentiment had come from. For as long as she could remember, it had always been a constant rivalry. Biana hated Sophie, and Sophie hated Biana. Neither had ever been bothered by it, and neither questioned their feud. But now, something about Biana felt different. She didn’t seem as bad. She almost seemed nice. Like they could be friends.

Sophie wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

———

THAT NIGHT, ONCE her homework was done and cross country was over and she had nothing to occupy her mind with, Biana found her thoughts wandering to Sophie. She’d never lost a pet, and the closest she’d come to losing someone was when her mother divorced Alden, and that hadn’t been awful.

Though she couldn’t sympathize with what she was going through, Biana knew Sophie holding in her feelings wouldn’t work out in the end.

She used to bottle her emotions when she lived with Alden. It often resulted in her snapping and letting her emotions out at once. Which usually meant yelling at someone and only rising the already high tension between the family. But when Alden was finally gone, she had finally let go of all her emotions, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She hoped Sophie wouldn’t do the same.

Biana sat leaning over the counter in the kitchen of their small apartment, that they had moved to to get away from the memories of Alden. Della cleaned the kitchen in front of her, and Fitz sprawled out on the couch behind her.

The apartment was only a few rooms. The kitchen and living room combined, one half of the room holding a couch, some chairs, and a TV. The rest held the table and kitchen, a counter with bar stools spreading the two. Down one hall was the front door, and down the other were four bedrooms — Fitz’s, Biana’s, Della’s, and a guest room, which would sometimes double as Livvy’s when she was spending the night and felt Fitz and Biana wouldn’t want her sleeping with their mother.

Tonight, though, Livvy wasn’t there. It was just the three of them.

Della looked over to her. “You alright, Biana?”

“Huh?” Biana said, snapping out of her thoughts. “Oh, yeah, fine, I guess.”

Della placed the dish in her hands down and turned her full attention to her daughter. “What’s up?”

Biana sighed, and explained what had happened today. Once she had, Fitz said, “I should go check on her,” and left to his room.

Biana stared at the counter in front of her, trying to sort out the knot in her stomach. She didn’t understand why she was so worried about Sophie. Sure, she knew grieving a pet couldn’t be easy, even if they hadn’t yet died. But she had never cared about what Sophie felt before, so why should she start now?

“You seem to have a lot of thoughts about this,” Della said.

Biana nodded. “Yeah. I guess — I’m just so worried about how Sophie is handling it, and I don’t know why. We’re not friends, we don’t get along, I hate her.”

“And why’s that?”

Biana sighed, ready to give the reasons she always did, but paused when she couldn’t remember what those reasons were. Clenching her jaw, she glared at the space in front of her.

“That’s what I thought,” said Della. “You don’t actually hate her. You just feel like you do because of some rivalry or something that happened when you were younger. But you don’t hate her.”

Biana considered this. Honestly, she couldn’t remember ever really, truly hating Sophie. And she knew what hate felt like. It was the blood boiling, gut clenching feeling she got even thinking about Alden. The one that made her want to punch something and run away. The one that had torn apart her family and stopped her from having a childhood.

She had never felt like that with Sophie. It was always a slight disliking — annoying, but something she could deal with.

Maybe she didn’t hate Sophie. Maybe she was so similar to Sophie, liked her more than she should, and didn’t know how to process that, so she channeled it into hate and anger. In the past, channeling her emotions that way had not gone well.

Biana nodded slowly. “I — I don’t think I hate her.”

“I didn’t think you did. You should try talking to her, being her friend.”

Biana nodded. Maybe she should.

As if Sophie had read her mind, she got a text from her then saying, Want to come to my house after practice tomorrow to work on the project?

Biana, a smile on her face, replied, Yes.

Taglist: @salt-warrior @pai-shodown @cinderswrench @shadymcsilverbangs @cindersassasin @healing-winston-pratt @just2bubbly let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#naia writes #sophiana #sophie foster #biana vacker #gold rush #sophiana fic #kotlc 2021 collab #KOTLC #della vacker #fitz vacker

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 years

Text

What’d You Wish For?

Title: What’d You Wish For?

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,873

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

Teen Wolf Tag List: @linkpk88, @pure-ghost, @awkwardnesshabitat

Author Notes: I can’t explain how much I enjoyed writing this one. It was just so sweet and fluffy. I mean, ugh I want a Stiles. I hope you all enjoy!

Gif Credit: Google

"Dude, I don't know if she actually wants to celebrate her birthday this year. She hasn't really said anything about it." Scott said in a whisper as him and Stiles stood in front of your locker armed with wrapping paper, confetti and what looked like an accordion spring.

"Who doesn't want to celebrate their birthday? Girls are different Scottie, they'll say they don't want to do something but really they do. They just want the guys to do the work." Stiles said as he dropped his backpack and began pulling out the tape and scissors.

"Like they're testing us?" Scott asked confused and Stiles nodded his head before gesturing violently to the locked locker. Scott jumped into action and began quickly spinning your lock.

"She said she doesn't want the attention but when has she ever said no to us? I mean we're her best friends she's gonna love this." Stiles said confidently as they began their work for your birthday tomorrow.

"Oh my god Lydia, I hate this." You hissed when you walked down the hallway and spotted your locker. It was wrapped in birthday wrapping paper that was black with multicolored balloons. Lydia snickered softly next to you as the two of you came to stand in front of your locker. "I'm going to kill them. I told Scott I didn't want all of this. I had hoped he'd be able to curb Stiles." You said with a loud groan.

"They love you and birthdays are a big deal. Especially to Stiles. You know that boy is head over heels for you. Plus I think it's sweet." She said with a head tilt.

"No he's not, don't say that." You chastised quickly. Lydia knew about your crush on your best friend and had been constantly been bringing up that he was in love with you. You didnt believe her even though you desperately wished she was right. "Well if you think it's so sweet I'm gonna sick them on you when it's your birthday." You threatened and smirked when you saw her eyes widen.

"Don't you dare." She gasped out. Laughing you turned from her to begin opening your locker. When you had gotten the lock undone you easily opened your locker only to be surprised as something sprung out at you and confetti seemed to explode into the air around you raining down all over. You heard a soft snicker next to you and whipped your head to glare at Lydia before turning back to the contraption in front of you. There was brightly colored birthday card attached to a spring and what looked like a little container that had probably held the confetti. "It's a cute look on you." Lydia said trying to hold in her laughter as she began picking some of the confetti out your hair.

"You were supposed to wait!" Shouted a familiar voice that had you turning while you were still in your daze. Long arms wrapped around you and crushed your body to a taller one in a tight hug. "Happy Birthday! I'm sorry we weren't here to see you open your locker. We overslept."

"Gee, I wonder why." You quipped out sarcastically and Lydia laughed softly behind you as you looked up at Stiles. He looked down at you with a bright happy smile that melted away your annoyance at your two best friends. Lydia was right, it was sweet that they went through all this trouble just for you. Your eyes looked to the side and saw a sheepish looking Scott and you grinned before stepping towards him and pulling him into a hug.

"You're not upset?" He asked softly in your ear as he returned your hug.

"A little but I'll get over it. Thank you." You said with a shrug.

"Happy Birthday." He said warmly and tightened his hold on you.

"Alright, alright break it up it's present time." Stiles said quickly and you turned to him shaking your head.

"Stiles I thought we said no gifts this year." You complained and watched as he shook his head.

"They're little things and under twenty bucks. Stop bitching." He responded quickly before shoving a gift bag at you. "Open mine first."

You began to look down at his bag but was quickly distracted by a length of braid black leather coming over your head. Your eyes immediately focused on the silver charm that was the symbol of your pack and you gasped softly.

"No, she'll get mine first." Scott said from behind you and Stiles huffed loudly. "It's only fair I gotta work tonight so you two are on your own for celebrating." You nodded your head at Stiles and he grinned over at you excitedly. "I made this myself. You're part of the original trio and since I can't convince you or Stiles to get a tattoo I had to find other ways to have the symbol in your life."

“I love it.” you say softly as you hold the pendant in your palm to examine it a little closely. “Thank you so much Scott!” you say happily and turn around to hug him once more.

“Alright now it’s my turn. Since Scottie jumped the line.” Stiles said from behind you and you smiled turning to him. He handed you the gift bag, you smiled when you noticed that it was your favorite color teal with gold tissue paper sticking out of it. You opened the bag and moved the tissue paper to the side to see inside. Gasping softly you pulled out a small wolf stuffed animal and a new notebook that had a manatee design on the front of it.

You looked up at Stiles and saw he was looking down at the floor uncertainty. You stepped forward and hugged him tightly around his waist, your new gifts were squished in between the two of you but you didn’t mind. They were thoughtful gifts and you loved them.

“I love them Stiles.” you said softly into his flannel.

“I got you the wolf because of Scott but the notebook is because you’re my detective partner and I know your last notebook is almost full and you’re gonna need a new one if we’ve got more supernatural trouble coming.” he explained to you as he held you tightly.

“I love them.” you repeated and hugged him tighter. Since your head was buried in his chest you didn’t see the knowing looks from Scott and Lydia directed as Stiles who shook his head at them. When you pulled away you laughed softly when you spotted some of the confetti had transferred onto Stiles’ shirt. “You look good in confetti.” you said and everyone laughed around you.

“You do too.” Stiles responded with a soft smirk. He then gestured for Scott to lock your locker and led you down the hallway to your first class.

It was the end of the day finally and as you stood at your locker collecting your books for homework and the gifts that Stiles had given you, you felt a presence next to you making you turn your head to see Scott and Stiles standign there with wide smiles on their faces.

“Happy Birthday again! I’m sorry I can’t celebrate with you tonight but we’ll celebrate tomorrow when I don’t have work.” Scott said as he hugged you and nodded.

“It’s no big deal Scottie. We’ve got tomorrow to hang out and celebrate. I just like hanging out with the two of you for my birthday.” you said kindly and he smiled and nodded his head once he had pulled away. Scott patted Stiles on the shoulder as he passed the taller teen and you looked over at him with a smile.

“You ready birthday girl? I got some plans for us.” he said excitedly and you laughed softly at him nodding your head.

“Lead the way!” you cheered and Stiles fist pumped in the air and grabbed your hand tugging you out of the school to the parking lot.

It was hours later and the sun had finally set to reveal the dark night sky dotted with stars. Stiles has taken you to your favorite fast food place and the two of you had sat in the restaurant eating and talking. Your conversation had flowed easily and uninterrupted as you talked about the supernatural, school, life and anything else the two of you could think of to talk about.

It had always been this easy between you and Stiles, the friendship and companionship was something that you cherished greatly. And while you held romantic feelings for him you knew you would never have the guts to act on them because you were too afraid of losing the bond you had with him. So as the two of you sat in his trusty jeep and he drove out to the preserve you idly chatted about things.

“So now that you’re technically an adult, what should be the first thing you do as an adult?” Stiles asked as he tapped the digital clock display on his dash. You looked over to him surprised.

“You remember what time I was born?” you asked in shock as your eyebrows furrowed softly. He smiled sheepishly and ducked his head as he turned into the preserve and steered the jeep to your favorite outlook point.

“Well yeah, I mean, I remember yours and Scott’s birthday down to the time because you two are my best friends. And it’s always nice to remember when the two most important people in my life came into this life.” he said a little embarrassed.

“Wow.” you said softly and then a wide grin spread across your face. “Didn’t know you were that sentimental Stilinski.” you teased softly before grabbing onto his hand closest to you and linking your fingers together. “You certainly know how to make a girl feel special.” you said softly and smiled warmly over to him. You tilted your head slightly when your eyes caught onto the soft blush that graced his cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders and kept your hands interlocked while he continued driving.

When he came up to the outlook point he parked the jeep and you unwound your hands so that you could exit the jeep. You were still thinking about the question he had asked you before and as you came to stand in front of the jeep and lean back on the hood your eyes darted up to the sky to see all the stars above you. Suddenly you knew what your first adult action would be.

Stiles came to stand next to you and you could see he was putting something in his pants pocket before he smiled widely at you and wrapped his arms around you in a loose hug. Smiling warmly you snuggled into his embrace. It was moments like these that you had continuously remind yourself that Stiles was just your best friend and nothing more even though you wanted him to be.

“So I’ve decided what my first adult action is going to be.” you said softly and Stiles pulled away a little to be able to look down at you expectantly. “I wanna wish on a shooting star.” The grin that overtook his face was contagious and he nodded his head at you before looking up at the sky with you.

“Alright so game plan is to find you a shooting star to wish on. I think we can manage that.” he said confidently and you laughed softly. The two of you fell silent as you stood in his arms, both of you staring up at the sky watching for shooting stars. Just then his hand gripped your hip and your eyes darted over to the shooting star that was streaking across the sky. Your eyes shut quickly and you made a wish. I want to always be this happy with him for the rest of our days. The wish came to you easily and as you thought it you knew that it would always come true.

Opening your eyes you turned your head and saw Stiles was staring down at you with a warm smile on his face. He grinned when your eyes connected and he pulled away slightly to reach into his jeans pocket. “Did you make a wish?” he asked softly and you nodded with your own grin on your face.

“Yup. Can’t tell you though, just in case it won’t come true. Though I don’t see that being a problem.” you said teasingly.

“Well now I wanna know what the wish was since you’re so confident it’ll come true.” he said questioningly. You tilted your head again to him and then smiled before deciding to go out on a limb and tell.

“I wished that I’d always be this happy with you for the rest of our days.” you said softly to him and watched his eyes widen and his breath get stuck in his throat.

“Well, that’s definitely better than the wish I made on my birthday last month when I blew out my candles.” he said with a self deprecating laugh.

“And what did you wish for?” you asked softly frowning at his low self-esteem.

“That I would have the guts to finally tell you how I felt about you.” he answered in a whisper. You felt your eyes widen and looked at him expectantly.

“A-and how do you feel about me?” you stuttered out to him watching as he moved closer and held up his left hand to you. In his palm was a small white box with a tiny top. You furrowed your eyebrows again and took the box from him once he’d nodded his head at it. You lifted the lid and gasped softly when you looked inside. A simple sterling silver band laid inside the box with your nickname engraved on the outside of it.

“I’ve been in love with you since middle school when the three of us all went to the spring dance together and you got all dressed up in that pretty teal dress. You went all out even when it was just me and Scott.” he explained softly to you. You laughed softly and shook your head slightly.

“I went all out because of you, Stiles.” you said in a whisper and darted your eyes up to see his had widened with an adoring soft look in them.

“I wish I’d known that a long time ago.” he murmured and you grinned softly. “On the inside of the ring,” he began to explain as you pulled it from the box and set the box on the hood of the jeep. “Is the date that I fell in love with you.” he said softly. Gasping you turned the ring so that you could see the date of the spring dance and you smiled at the ring.

Stiles hands came up shakily to take the ring from you and slipped it onto your thumb finger. You grinned knowing he had done it specifically this way because you had once mentioned to him that you wanted to have a thumb ring eventually. You just hadn’t ever figured out what ring you wanted on your thumb. Tilting your head upwards to him you saw he was already watching you.

“I’m in love with you too Stiles. Have been since the year before the spring dance.” you explained with a warm smile on your face. Stiles rested his forehead on yours and you both let out soft chuckles. “I love you Stiles.”

“I love you too.” he answered and ducked his head to press his lips to yours softly in a loving chaste kiss that lasted for a few moments. When he pulled away the two of you were panting and your hands were gripping his sides as his arms were still wrapped around you. “Whoa.” he said softly and you laughed brightly making him laugh along with you.

“I’ll say.” you quipped and he grinned before dipping his head again to steal another shorter kiss.

“I’m not going to be able to stop doing this now that I’ve done it.” he warned you when he pulled away.

“I don’t want you to stop. Ever. Kiss me.” you demanded and he was suddenly kissing you passionately as he pressed you up against the hood of the jeep. His hands came to cup your face and he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss further.

“You know this makes you my girlfriend now, right?” he asked once he pulled away still cupping your face lovingly.

“You never asked.” you gasped out softly and he groaned loudly making you chuckle.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked begrudgingly and you smiled nodding your head.

“Of course I will Stilinski.” you responded and he grinned ducking his head down again so he was so close to your face that your noses brushed together.

“Good.” he answered and kissed you again. Your heart was soaring as the kiss went on and you wrapped your arms around his waist tugging him closer to you. Smiling through the kiss a thought fluttered through your mind, this had to be the best birthday ever.

#my writing #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #birthday indulgence

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 3 years

Text

Harvest Moon

Summary: {A light sequel to: Unforgettable} They laughed, sort of sadly. The full night sky enriched them with gentle peace, strengthened by the soft light of the stars. The temperature dropped considerably since Sam had initially come out. But he didn’t mind the nice chill, it braced his skin and left him with tingling goosebumps. It reminded Sam how real the moment actually was. Paying less attention to the hearty sloshes of water, Sam picked up his radio.

Ships: SamBucky

Word Count: 5,285

The light from the orange sunset flushed Sam Wilson’s cheeks, encouraging the spread of an internally hot blush. Color blossomed under his soft complexion with all the grace of the water rings rippling under the rocks skipping on the lake. Though the sweat was just beginning to puddle in his palms and drip down his temple, Sam was only focused on the fevered senses of comfort which had been deep-rooted in his chest since arriving back home.

The babbling waters had called him out to the docks just the same as they did when he was small. And following that nostalgia, Sam felt the ghost of supper on the stove. Turns out his fucked up Avengers mind could still remind himself to be home before the porcelain plates hit the table. No longer his Mama--but Sarah who would be annoyed with him and that was perhaps more threatening. He thought as his tiny radio played on.

AJ and Cass had fallen asleep with the gentle nudge of a fuzzy re-run of ‘Whose Line is it Anyway?’ and the promise of a hot meal when they awoke. Sam’s absence would be noticed very soon.

‘Sittin' in the mornin' sun

I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes

Watching the ships roll in

Then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay

Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh

I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time…’

He swiped salty sweat from his brow and found himself dwelling on the evening, wanting to change the direction of the souring sun. No matter what, Sam always began to mourn the day at around 5 p.m. Everyday could’ve been better. The threat of night’s permanent closure and the bearer of nightmares fermented him with anxiety. He was working on that issue with his therapist.

‘Now I'm just gon' sit, at the dock of the bay

Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh yeah

Sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time…’

Otis began the famed whistling as Sam leaned back on his hands, palms flat on the warm dock. He felt the movement just before a voice began whistling along behind him. It chirped delicately in Sam’s ear, until the song faded and with it--

Sam turned--Bucky Barnes sing-along.

Bucky grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nice to see you so…” He craned his neck and squinted his eyes. “Lazy.” Even he looked a bit confused by the word choice.

“Thanks…” Sam chuckled.

“I just mean--” Buck paused, scratching down from his chin to his neck. Sam saw that he did that often enough to earn patches of grainy red skin under his facial hair.

Sam smirked, pulling his left thigh up and around from the edge. His eyes simmered Bucky’s blush.

“Have you ever had the time to laze around?” Bucky asked, amazed at his own wondering. “To sit and watch the sun on the water?” He gestured frantically outward. “You’ve been a busy guy...not that I helped you with that any…”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, man. Tracking your ass for Steve reaped some rewards.” He gestured for the man to rest his old bones down next to him and Bucky hesitantly took the offer. His knees cracked with sharp pops all the way down.

“No old man jokes, I swear-”

Sam held up his hands. “I wasn’t planning on it, Bucky.” He glanced at Steve’s old friend and for a moment, couldn’t believe the man of history books and horror stories was ‘sun-setting’ in Sam’s home-town. The orange light caressed his face in the same eerie way it’d done way back at Tony’s funeral.

“Thanks for letting me stay-” Bucky went to rub his chin again. “Not quite separate vacations but…” He chuckled, fading off. It was subconscious, the way Bucky led in with no follow through. He wanted Sam to be the one to initiate the conversation.

But Sam bit his tongue. He deserved to hear what Bucky had to say without having to pull it out himself.

Bucky turned with those doe eyes, tired but with enough energy left to admire his partner. “I hurt you....” He frowned, bitter with himself. “I know that and I’m damn sorry, Sam.” His voice was crisp and steady but his eyes wavered.

Sam sighed, eyes back on the water. “We were getting somewhere, man. And you just…” He flicked his hand out. “Disappeared on me.” He paused.

“I shouldn’t have left you...especially at such an ambiguous time for us.” Bucky stumbled slightly on his words.

Sam took a long blink, remembering the ‘unforgettable’ feeling of being held again. “I’m more hurt by the fact that I got nothing but radio silence from you-” He swallowed. “Past that-” He glanced at Bucky “Thing we had just started. I thought we’d reached a point where we could communicate.” He shrugged with muted emotion. “We were friends.” He added with a slight question in his voice. He watched Bucky’s eyes flicker with guilt.

“If you had given me a heads up, maybe. That’s all.” Sam patted his thigh. “I can understand needing space. I understand that even answering texts can be difficult as hell when your mind feels sick. I’ve been there, Buck. Shit’s hard.” He felt a dark twist in his stomach and tried not to dwell in his own memories. “I don’t hold this against you. I know you’re a good guy.” Sam made sure Bucky looked him in the eye for that particular sentiment. “But you should know how I felt about it. Whatever relationship we end up having; Friends, co-workers, partners-” He flicked his fingers. “I’d hope you’d think about how your decisions affect me.”

They held the next silence for a few minutes, Bucky seemingly taking in what he’d said. “For me, it was like I blinked and you were gone with the wind. I didn’t know how you were doing for months--if you were even okay. But then, out of the blue, you come back and you’re pissed about something that wasn’t about you.” Sam shrugged, feeling a bit lighter for every word he’d been simmering on for weeks.

Bucky grimaced, looking extremely pained. “I’m really sorry, Sam.” He repeated himself with genuine regret. The light around them bled darker. “I let a lot of my intrusive thoughts control me.” He hissed at his own words but quickly moved on. “Part of me let it happen because I’m not sure I could handle a competent hand on the wheel. I’ve lived as the...Winter Soldier longer than Bucky, you know-? And Holy shit that’s something I try not to perceive.” He turned, hoping he wasn’t over-sharing. “It’s terrifying to think it’s just in my nature...being destructive. I’m always nervous-” He paused again. “Not that I’m going to hurt someone--but the feeling that I need to will bleed back into me…” His voice faded off again as he picked at a loose string on his jeans.

“This is something you’re talking about in therapy, right?” Sam quirked his brow, needing the answer to be yes but the distant pain in his head reminded him that he dodged plenty of shit from his therapist.

Bucky nodded and before Sam could speak again, asked the question he’d been aching to for months. “I want to go back to you-”

“Of course you do.” Sam chuckled.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “How have you been, really?”

Sam thought for a minute. “Working myself to death, mostly.” He laughed, though it didn’t sound happy at all. “Been seeing Sarah and the boys as much as I can…”

The sky purpled, darkness bleeding into the orange hues. The stars would soon be visible and Bucky was almost positive Sam would now push the question off, neglecting the details. For as much as he complains that Bucky doesn’t talk about himself enough, Sam often avoids voicing his own feelings.

“Sarah was swamped and anxious, despite what she says-”

“And what were you feeling, Samuel?” Bucky playfully tapped his friend’s knee with a smug grin.

Sam rolled his eyes but grinned slightly at the familiar teasing. He wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words so he turned back to the water. “Thought a lot about the soul stone, actually.” The sentence rolled casually off his tongue but did nothing to relieve the stress it’d been causing him.

Bucky tried to remain stoic but a glint of concern shined over his eyes. The infinity stone felt somehow personal between them. Though nobody had memories of their time dusted, Sam and Bucky came out with a new sense of intimacy for each other. It was as if something happened in those 5 years, which felt like only a brief nap to them and in that blip, they’d connected. Falling together was comfortingly natural after that.

“My last thought before I...dusted, was ‘Maybe I’ll get to see Riley.’ ” Sam whizzed his palm in the air, voice breaking slightly and definitely against his will.

Bucky’s heart twitched. They’d gone dancing in the evening after Tony Stark’s funeral. It was the most blissful Bucky’d ever been and he’d spent the night in Sam’s hotel room doing the most talking he’d ever spoken. Nothing physical happened nor did either man think of it, they were too busy soaking up all the information they could get from the other before the night ended. They could truly get to know each other for the first time.

Bucky went on about his family, as much as he could remember anyway. Sam talked of his parents; Paul and Darlene and eventually trailed his way to Riley.

Sam halted his next thought for a few minutes because it was damn hard to illustrate. “I know we weren’t actually dead-” He rolled his lips together “Or maybe we were, still not clear on all that.” He sighed into another little laugh. “But I just want a few more minutes with him...you know?”

Bucky nodded, giving him a ‘go on’ expression.

“I guess our souls were floating around in the stone but--” He broke off, looking down at the water. “For five years, Both our names were on gravestones and in all that time, I couldn’t just see or feel him one time?” Fists now clenched into tight fists. His body language was horrifyingly angry, contrasting the deep despair that was the expression on his face. He was almost sure that none of his words made sense, they’d been jumbling around in him for months like a virus and to be regurgitated so suddenly felt...messy.

The radio, which Sam had long forgotten about, continued to roll-out soft volume static above glimpses of songs. “Fuck, Sam--” Bucky squinted towards the sky, taking in the brief glance into Sam’s head. “I know exactly what you mean…” He turned quickly, admiring Sam’s presence as his adoration for the man thumped like the heart-beat in his chest. “I always figured I’d never get that peace with my family...but I always assumed it’d be for some iteration of Hell.” He rubbed his palm against his neck and laughed.

Sam elbowed him lightly, forcing Bucky to find his words again.

“Knowing--through you and how I feel about you--” Bucky gestured between them. “That I had a mellow...impermanent afterlife(?) yet still didn’t get to see my family...well it feels like I was cheated.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think your soul’s going anywhere bad, Buck. Don’t know what happens after we’re gone for good but you’re not ditching me again.” He drifted off, feeling a sudden unbearable disappointment. “Nat’ll be there too.”

Bucky took in a breath, enjoying the tickling static of Sam’s hand. “Riley too, don’t worry about that, ok?” He tapped Sam’s hand. “I think, when we go back into the weeds and the dirt--”

“That’s a tender way of putting it, Bucky.” Sam blinked, trying not to put himself in an internal coffin because he was significantly chilled now.

Bucky smiled. “I think we get the peace of nothing. Just a return to nature with the souls of those we loved.” He rubbed his finger into the corner of his eye like a grandpa and sighed. “I’ve seen and experienced a lot of the Heaven/Hell folklore in my life and I’m not crazy about it, Sam” He wagged his finger and Sam pushed him slightly with a nice feeling of content.

“We can only comfort ourselves, nothing greater will do it for us. So we write ourselves a multitude of fiction that may, or may not, ease us into accepting death.” Sam bumped their elbows together and eyed a distant bird as it darted across and just above the water.

“I’m glad whatever it was that happened between us in that stone, happened.” Bucky added sheepishly. Turning to look at his partner under the increasingly vivid stars, Bucky hiccupped as a huge wave of affection hit him. “Cause I really like you, Sam.”

"But don't discredit yourself. It wasn't just the stone that magically brought us together--" Bucky lightly pushed Sam's bicep. "I-...I can't begin to explain how much it means to me that you made an effort to be my friend...even during the last few months of me ghosting you and not listening to you about the shield. You didn't have to do that."

Somewhere supper was threatening to get cold and Sarah was playing their meals with a concerned frown, Sam just knew that sister of his too well. He hoped to scrap together just a bit more time. "What can I say?" He smiled "I like you too. People need people, Buck. I wasn't gonna sit back and let you cut yourself off."

Bucky laid back on the dock, laying his palm flat to his chest. He repeated the phrase over and over in his head. 'People need people.' "Goes both ways, you know Sam?" He spoke with deep confidence but continued to laze on the dock, trying to find an angle where the sun was blocked and he could stare up at Sam. “Meaning, I hope you’ve been letting Sarah help you out...and seeing your therapist.”

Sam gently smacked his hand atop Bucky’s like a comforting beat of thunder. “Giving my best effort.” He nodded thoughtfully.

Bucky fluttered his eyes with the pace of his heart. “This is the first time I’ve seen you so...still, Wilson.”

Sam tossed his head back and laughed, knowing Bucky had hit the nail on the head with that one. The back of his neck cooled as he watched the slates of wood under them pale. The glimmers of tired orange light died and vapid pastel-white tones took their place, nestled in the cracks. Part of him wanted to disagree though he hadn’t the spirit. “I don’t like relaxing because it gives me too much time inside myself.”

Bucky nodded, encouraging Sam to go on. Fearing the man would never pick it up again if he suddenly decided to close himself off again.

“There’s too much to do...I feel like I don’t deserve it.” Sam shrugged, a clear illustration of his frustration. He’d definitely pulled this thread a few million times in his life.

“Don’t deserve it?” Bucky sat up just a little, resting on his forearms, he slanted his head as if the adoring smile was just too heavy. “C’mon Doll--” He cut himself off a bit too late.

“Slipping back into old habits, huh?” Sam rolled his eyes but waved a dismissive hand. “You’re cute.” He teased, shoving the guy gently.

Bucky played along, pretending Sam had used enough of that strength of his to knock him back onto the dock. “I think now is a great time for a few days off Sam.”

The man hummed, thinking about the public...what they expected of their new ‘Captain America’ and what the flicker of the new spot-light in his favor revealed about those who loved Steve for all the wrong reasons. Knowing, as a black man, he’d have to go above and beyond all those assumptions just to garner the same amount of respect they gave Steve. The anger he felt from that was righteous but god forbid he show any sense of hurt because then he’d just be labeled ‘ungrateful’ and ‘giving people grief’. He rubbed under his eye with a longing sigh. “I can’t really afford that right now, Buck.”

His body shivered as he tried to push away the intrusive images; Walker slamming into the man over and over without hesitation, thick puddles of blood covering his shield, carrying Karli’s lifeless body over an audience where half of the people celebrated her death...perceiving and exploiting her as another ‘super-villain’.

“Hey.” Bucky softly sat up and pulled Sam’s elbow until their eyes met. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” He didn’t pull away, instead hesitantly he curled his hand around Sam’s arm. His fingers pressed dimples into Sam’s skin. Bucky nestled there and his friend exhaled a little, unclenching his body.

“It’s daunting.” He nodded to himself before tipping his chin to face Bucky. “A bucket doesn’t hold a tidal wave but that’s all I got.” He shrugged, noticing Bucky’s quirked brow. “Something my dad used to say...meaning there’s too much to say so I gotta give you a shitty summary, you know?” He shook his head.

“I know I’m one to talk but try using more words...buzz-words if you have to.” Bucky looked momentarily proud of his modern vocabulary and squeezed Sam’s arm tighter.

Sam chuckled. “Let’s say...nerve-wrecking.” He added, bumping his elbow into Bucky’s side. “With all that’s happened...I’m worried--” He landed on a word he felt comfortable with. “Being Captain America...it’s heavy on my shoulders, man. I know I can do it, I trust myself when it comes down to the wire. I hold myself to my standards.” He trailed off again, listening to distant sounds of kids skipping rocks across the water. “I know where this job’s going to take me and I’m ok with that, glad to do it.” He looked back at Bucky with determined eyes.

“I’m not concerned with my fate.” Another deep breath racked his body, he wasn’t used to being so utterly serious with his current company. “I think about how it ended for Tony and I worry about the kid--”

Bucky nodded, He’d only briefly been aware of Stark’s ‘surrogate’ son and spoke a handful of words to him at the funeral, Sam and Wanda at his side.

Sam rubbed his neck with his free hand, feeling intense pressure all over his body. All his limbs tingled as if they were asleep. He’d not realized the true extent of how much this had been eating away at him. Speaking of eating, dinner was for sure cold by now…“Met his Aunt at the funeral.” She’d been proud of her boy but behind her eyes lived guttural fear, Sam knew that much. “I’m thinking about Rhodey because I sure as hell know the pain of losing your best friend.”

Bucky tightened his grip on Sam even further. He’d lost Steve so many times but the time had come for the permanent end and by then...well had they even felt like best friends anymore?

“I can’t even figure out what’s going on with Wanda.” Sam clicked his tongue with a bitter chuckle. “Girl’s doing her best to stay off the grid and I can’t imagine that’s good for her. I know Torres can handle himself but I wonder if I should be helping him more. Not to mention Bruce. What the hell is his mental state right now?” He added with a confused wave of his hand. “I’m even worrying about Scott!” Sam rubbed at his eyebrow and sighed. “This is all beside Sarah and the kids, who I’m constantly thinking about.” He laughed, voice strained and tired.

Bucky waited a few seconds, just to make sure Sam had finished. In that short moment, his heart swelled for him. “You’re a good person, Sam. But you’re only one man.” He shook him just a little bit. “Truthfully, You’ll always be concerned for them. It’s just in your nature. Don’t fight the intrusive thoughts...accept their presence and remember you’ve got a team.” Bucky trailed off, going over what he’d just said again in his head.

Sam’s shoulders sank with another deep sigh. “Thanks, Buck.” He swiped his hand down his face and noticed how much lighter he felt.

Bucky responded physically. He tugged Sam down with him as he laid back on the dock, shoulders bumping together harmoniously which sent chills through Bucky’s entire body. The good kind...maybe the amazing kind. Hell, they tingled under his skin just about every moment he spent with Sam. That deeply buried fear that he might spend the rest of his life making himself excruciatingly uncomfortable in his own body, trapped under his skin which was always crawling, faded from the realm of possibility each time Sam’s presence flushed Bucky with comfortable jitters.

“You’re getting good taste, by the way-”

Bucky only squinted at him, still half in deep thought. So Sam started Otis’s whistling again and watched his friend realize what he was talking about. His nose scrunched up while he nodded.

“How do you decide what to listen to?” Sam turned, they were nearly nose-to-nose. “I mean, how do you narrow it down when you’ve got decades to catch up on?” Sam’s mind flickered through artists like a jukebox--which was 1 thing he’d always wanted to buy, a real old school one.

Bucky shifted his jaw, making an eerie click, a precursor to his amused grin. “I made a list of artists I remember liking before…” He waved his hand, turning slightly to watch the dewey clouds cover the moon. “And the periods in-and-out of being frozen...I have a list of what I remember by decade-” He chuckled.

Sam sat up on his forearms. “I’d like to see these lists. The record set-up in Sarah’s living room is not a decoration, you know? It’s almost as great as mine back in D.C.” He grinned, thinking about the days, so far gone now. Mama and Sarah dancing around the kitchen.

“It really faded off during the 80’s.” Bucky pushed up to level himself next to Sam. “And not that I’ve had much time, mind you--” he laughed. “But from there, I just follow what I’m fond of like family trees and consider the few recommendations I’ve collected.” He trailed off, starting to do the Otis whistle again.

Sam let him follow through to the end, anticipating the tender connotations of the song to come after this day ended. “Out of all these decades...who are your favorite artists? Just curious.” Sam grinned. The answer to this question spoke loudly about a person, in his opinion.

Bucky looked thoughtfully content with the question, grin cocking a bit to the right as he held out his fist above him. “I’d have to say...Ella-” He flicked out a thumb, no last name necessary. Sam knew that woman like the back of his hand.

“Nat King Cole-” Bucky softened his eyes, searching again for that unforgettable memory in Sam, and smiling when the expression was reciprocated in his eyes which shimmered like sunlight through the trees. “Roy Orbison.” Two more metal fingers curled down. “John Denver and Billy Joel.” He let his hand fall back to his chest, satisfied for only a few seconds. “But I really love Judy Garland too.”

“So you like the mellow ballads--” He hummed. “Slow and kinda sad, huh?” Sam bumped his arm lightly. It made good sense to him. Bucky enjoyed the peace which came effortlessly from lone singer-songwriters. His five--or rather six--showed a natural progression.

“What about you?” Bucky asked, in a calm tone of voice though his eyes read eager.

“Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke, The Drifters…” Sam paused, really thinking over his picks. “Earth Wind and Fire, Linda Ronstadt and since you got a bonus...Billie Holiday.” Sam rested his palm flat on his chest, content to feel the steady beating that let him know he was still alive. A rich sense of comfort rushed over him as if a fresh load of laundry had just been dropped on his still body. There’d been too many days in his life where that buried thumping was only a reminder of non-stop existence, like a neverending rollercoaster. Installing him with dread, guilt and panic. He was glad to find those days fewer and farther between.

“You make me feel like I’m livin’ in a Drifters song, Doll.” Bucky was only half teasing, for he was speaking a genuine thought but wasn’t sure how welcome it’d be.

“I like that one.” Sam hummed, turning his cheek once more toward the man beside him. “Tell me how you really feel.” He hiked himself up fully to return to his seated position, legs dangling over the side and casting faint shadows of foot-steps on the water.

Bucky paused with concern, not sure he understood the reply before he processed it fully. He wanted to smirk but the sentiment out-weighed the amusement. He sat up too, pulling one knee up to rest an arm over while the other dangled next to Sam’s. “I got it bad, Sam.” He made their wandering eyes meet.

“Me too.” Sam nodded with that dazzling grin. “You’re under my skin, what can I say?” He shook his head and tried to let his smile fade, finding he couldn’t.

“If they weren’t gone...I’d be buggin’ you to meet my family.” Bucky ignored the twist in his gut because Sam’s reactions were his comfort. “Though who’s to say how they’d feel about the….” He trailed off and Sam nodded. “You being a fella part of it--”

“A fella of color, too.” Sam added with a bit of a smirk.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed quietly and playfully tugged Sam’s hand. They curled their fingers together in an exquisitely natural way. “They loved me…” His face stilled with longing. “I’d like to think--But maybe it’s best not to go down that road. I don’t believe I turned out how they’d wanted anyway.” He chuckled, pitfully.

Sam tightened their grip on each other for a minute. “I know what you mean.” He bumped their folded hands onto Bucky’s thigh. “I’m always wondering what my parents would think of all this…” He flicked his free hand. “My career?” He almost wanted to laugh with astonished pride. Never had he expected to grow up to be a superhero. “Riley too.” He felt there was more to say but his mouth fell shut.

“Just a way to hurt ourselves, I guess.” Bucky shrugged. “And we sure as Hell love to do that.”

They laughed, sort of sadly. The full night sky enriched them with gentle peace, strengthened by the soft light of the stars. The temperature dropped considerably since Sam had initially come out. But he didn’t mind the nice chill, it braced his skin and left him with tingling goosebumps. It reminded Sam how real the moment actually was. Paying less attention to the hearty sloshes of water, Sam picked up his radio.

‘Come a little bit closer

Hear what I have to say

Just like children sleepin'

We could dream this night away…’

He might have heard the song before, couldn’t be sure, and if he was alone he might have continued flipping stations just in case an older favorite was slipping through his fingers. But Bucky began to hum with the tune.

‘But there's a full moon risin'

Let's go dancin' in the light

We know where the music's playin'

Let's go out and feel the night…’

Sam gathered himself up from the creaky dock, stretching his body little by little and watching Bucky’s wandering eyes. He gently held out his hands which was enough of a sign for Bucky to happily grab them and pull himself up.

Sam shoved the radio in his pocket with a smile and though Bucky was more than just pleased to see him so jovial, he also felt a flicker of nervousness. “Man...for the first time in a while, I feel lucky as Hell.”

‘Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon…’

Sam raised his brow and initiated the first few dance steps with his partner hardly noticing the movement at all. “How’s that?”

“I’m lucky to be in love with someone I like so much.” Bucky puffed out a relaxed sigh with his words and finally leaned into the dancing with real vigor. “Sam, I’ve never wanted to spend my life with someone as badly as I do with you.”

Wind whistled past their shoulders but Sam felt perfectly warm. He let Bucky take the lead and allowed himself to be spun. The cool light of the moon acted as a highlighter, beams of translucent white caressed the shape of Sam’s body. Following the curve of his hips and sliding down the length of his legs. “Growing old with you...becoming a cranky old man couple, that sounds like fun.” He spoke as if he hadn’t had true fun in years which was probably true.

A bush fondly bloomed under Bucky’s skin. Behind his fluttering eyelashes, Bucky indulged for once in his life. To drink in all that was this man in front of him.

However Sam’s eyes were now focused on a cupped hand, which had somehow slipped from Bucky’s, where a yellow toned light would flicker every few seconds. Whenever the yellow light skimmed his face, he would grin with pure joy.

“You never caught a firefly before, Sam?” Bucky asked in jest, with a huff of amused laughter.

Sam gently guided the bug into Bucky’s face.

“Oh, fuck! You asshole” Bucky scrunched up his nose and swatted dramatically at his nose. “I change my mind, cancel my idea. Gonna crawl back into the absolute hole that is my apartment--” He playfully backed away from his friend.

Before Bucky could slip the last inch of his skin from Sam’s hand, the man used the full strength of his extended arm to fiercely pull him back and into his chest. Like a damn professional dancer. “I’ve been seeing myself from grief’s eyes for too damn long. Think I’m ready to take control of my own life. I want to be with you.” He playfully grinned. “What about you?”

Bucky glowed in Sam’s arms. “For a long time, I lost my sense of self…” He scratched behind his ear. “But never my fuckin’ point of view.” His voice broke just a little. “I had to see and feel every horrendous thing the Winter Soldier did. “I’ll bear the consequences for the rest of my life and I accept that.” He shook his head. “But I’m ready to accept happiness too. I really want to be with you, Sam.”

Sam nodded, content as he’d ever been. “I think we should get our dinner before Sarah comes to drag us by our ears.”

Bucky pressed a sweet kiss, full of longing and fulfillment. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He laughed, taking Sam’s arm and pulling him down the dock with a spring in both their steps.

‘But now it's gettin' late

And the moon is climbin' high

I want to celebrate

See it shinin' in your eye’

‘Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon’

#sambucky #is this good?#idk #i feel too awful to focus #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #winterfalcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #sarah wilson #my fanfiction #tell me what you think #Marvel Comics #marvel #MCU #marvel fanfiction

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Princess Part 13

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 12

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- smut, rough sex, kinks

Credit to Supernatural- the first bit is borrowed from the show because its fitting for Sirius and Regulus

_______

Sirius woke up to the lovely sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom. Getting out of bed, Sirius walked down the hall and peeked in the doorway to see Regulus on his knees with his head practically in the toilet.

“You look hungover. Reg, you have some tolerance.”

Regulus groaned upon hearing his brother’s voice. Sirius was the last person that he wanted to deal with. He would have preferred that it was you ready to pamper him until the pain in his stomach stopped.

“It's more like a curse.”

Regulus replied. He was annoyed that he literally had to drink a shit ton of booze to be able to feel anything. Why in the hell did he have to get straight shit faced in order to get a decent night's sleep without nightmares?

Sirius carefully looked his brother’s extremely pale form over carefully before speaking again.

“You look sick.”

Regulus wanted to congratulate his brother on stating the obvious but maybe it was Sirius' strange way of being caring.

“Brandy tastes just as bad coming up as it does going down.”

Regulus replied. Sirius smirked deciding to go in with a bit of revenge on Regulus for making you worry so much.

“You know there's a really good cure for a hangover. It's a greasy pork sandwich served up on a dirty ashtray.”

Regulus groaned in misery before throwing up all over again.

“I hate you.”

He groaned. Sirius grinned, getting the result that he wanted the most.

“Yeah, I know you do. Better perk up, Y/n stepped out to have her hair done. She said she wanted to try to put a smile on your face. None of us have smiled much lately.”

Regulus groaned as he sat back against the bathroom wall. Sirius was definitely right on that one. Since moving in with Sirius and Remus, things had been tense. Regulus knew that he had been a lot “shorter” than normal but you seemed to be letting things slide.

Both of you were tense from “laying low.” Not being able to live your normal lives was difficult. Regulus had pretty much given up everything that he knew. The two of you were no longer going on lavish dates and being a death eater was pretty much over. Regulus didn’t mention it to you but he felt almost directionless.

Don’t let her see you be weak.

That was the one little bit of advice that Orion had given his son when it came to relationships.

You are the man in the relationship. Y/n doesn't need to see you be weak. She needs you to be the strong and confident men that you are supposed to be.

Orion’s advice had been helpful for most of Regulus’ life when it came to his relationship with you. He figured that was why things worked out the way that they did. He was trained on how to be the “Black family-approved” husband and you were the “Black family-approved” wife.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Regulus muttered as he stood up to freshen himself up. Sirius didn’t move from his place by the door as Regulus looked at his normally neat and tidy appearance. Today, however, Regulus' hair was a mess and he had what looked like a light five o’clock shadow forming.

“You should probably take a shower and comb your hair.”

Sirius suggested. Regulus ran a hand through his messy curls before turning back to his brother.

“Bye Sirius!”

(meanwhile)

You sat in the beautician’s chair as she worked on your hair.

“You’re going to be lovely. I’m glad to hear that you have gotten back with Regulus.”

The beautician, Kendra, said with a happy smile. She seemed to miss the way that your mouth dropped at the comment. You hadn’t mentioned to Kendra anything about your relationship with Regulus to her.

“Excuse me?”

You questioned. Kendra smiled from over the chair.

“I spoke with Emma a few weeks ago. She said the two of you had broken up over you having pre-wedding jitters. How were you able to move past Regulus and Emma’s affair?”

Your mouth dropped at that comment. Just what was Emma Rosier telling people?

“There was no affair between Regulus and Emma. It sounds like she is just running her mouth. Between you and me, it sounded like Emma was doing a lot of talking that made no sense. I think that your cousin’s death hit her a little harder than expected.”

You wanted to feel sorry for Emma at the moment but you couldn’t. She was dealing with her pain but wanting to cause you more. You had, at one point, wanted to feel sorry for her but you wasn’t now.

“She’s gone batshit and if you see her feel free to let her know.”

Arriving back home, you were still fuming over Emma. You had been so lost in your own world that you didn’t notice Regulus sitting on the couch with his shirt halfway unbuttoned. He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t notice his current “state.” Normally, if you saw him with his shirt halfway undone you took it an invitation for a good afternoon fuck.

“You seem a bit distracted.”

Regulus’ said as he noticed the distracted expression on your face. You looked at him like a deer in the headlights as Regulus stood up. Holy, fuck when was the last time that you had seen Regulus looking like this?

He stood looking at you with the Black family scowl on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you. Blinking, your eyes fell down his body. You could see a little bit of his chest and the way that he had his shirt sleeves rolled up made the desperate lover within you ache. Had it really been so long since you had seen Regulus look like this? He looked just like the man that you had fallen in love with.

“Reggie…”

“You look pretty...very pretty...fucking gorgeous actually.”

You blushed as Regulus closed the gap between your bodies and cupped your cheek. He smiled before tilting your face to his. Leaning down for a kiss, he let his tongue caress your bottom lip before pulling away. Regulus made sure to make the kiss as teasing as possible. He wanted you as sexually frustrated as he felt.

“You’re such a pretty little love. What would you like, sweetheart?”

You batted your eyes before contemplating if you should give Regulus a sweet response or just be blunt. After a moment of deciding, you decided to go with the latter.

“My pussy could use some company.”

Regulus gave her a devilishly delicious grin. He wrapped his hands around your waist and yanked your body against his.

“Then go upstairs and be waiting for me naked. I’m going to fix myself a drink and I will join you momentarily.”

“Yes, sir.”

You said before turning and running up the stairs. As quickly as possible, you undressed down to your bra and knickers. Your hands had barely undone the clasp of your bra when Regulus walked into the bedroom with a drink in his hand. You were immediately curious if it was just water or if he had alcohol in his hand. Going with the latter, you decided Regulus was probably drinking...

“Now I thought that I made myself very clear. I am sure that I told you to be naked. I still see knickers on your ass. Now get over here, I am going to put you across my knee for not doing as you were told, little girl.”

Regulus sat down on the small sofa that was in the corner of the bedroom. He spread his legs enough to give you a bigger surface to lay on. You did as you were told and lay across Regulus’ laps. Involuntarily, you raised your ass up a bit as Regulus’ hand gently rub over your cheek.

“I don’t know why you have to be so naughty. I wanted to bring you upstairs and make sweet gentle love to you but now I want to play hard.”

Before you could respond, Regulus’ hand moved from gently rubbing to crashing against your ass with a loud POP. The pain felt so damn good! You began to squirm in hopes to put some pressure on your swollen clit. Rubbing against Regulus’ thigh provided some comfort but it wasn’t enough. Regulus held you in place so you wouldn’t be able to give yourself too much relief. The pleasure stopped as soon as it began. Regulus noticed the wet spot on his dress pants

“Oh, princess, look what you did. Now how are you going to fix this? I rather liked these jeans.”

You slid off of Regulus’ lap and settled between his legs. Meeting his gaze for permission, you waited until he raised an eyebrow as if asking what the hold up was? Your skilled fingers unbuckled his belt before moving to ease his dress pants down his slender hips.

Regulus was hard as a rock when you finally freed his cock from his pants.

“May I?”

You asked with a sweet smile. If you were sweet as pie, Regulus would let you do whatever you wanted.

“Go on.”

Regulus replied. You gently took Regulus into your mouth and sucked eagerly at the head of of cock. Regulus sighed before swearing under his breath. He reached down and stroked his hand through your hair.

“You always know how to touch me. I could never want another. You will always be my only one, princess.”

When your eyes fluttered open and met him you silently agreed to the sentiment returning your own promise of love. Regulus let you continue with the blowjob for a moment before saying,

"Enough! Get on the bed and on your back.”

You didn’t wait for Regulus to tell you twice before getting on the bed and spreading your legs wide. Slowly, you slipped your hand down your body to stroke over your clit and tease your entrance.

“Harder, Reggie.”

Regulus was unbuttoning his shirt but stopped hearing you moan his name. It was Regulus’ turn to look like a deer in the headlight but he quickly recovered.

“Naughty girl.”

Regulus replied before kneeling down on the floor. He reached up and yanked you to him by your thighs. Draping your legs over his shoulders, Regulus buried his face between your legs. He inhaled your scent before pressing a soft kiss to your mound before turning to your thigh. Without thinking about what he was doing, Regulus sucked a love bite onto your tender skin. He planned on marking you up so everyone would be able to see.

You cried out from under him. The moment that your fingers tangled in his curls, Regulus groaned. You messing with his hair would forever be his weakness. He remained motionless before resuming his licking. You began to feel the pleasure mounting. With each moment the tension in your legs and your cries let Regulus know how close you were to coming. He gave you one brief moment of no contact before engulfing your clit. Regulus sucked on it relentlessly until your body writhed with pleasure. When you finally came, Regulus remained in place licking whatever you had to give him.

Regulus slowly stood up, unable to wait anymore. He had to have you. There would be no more waiting! Regulus positioned you onto your side as he sat up on his knees. Placing your leg up the length of his chest and over his shoulder, Regulus lowered enough to push his cock into your waiting pussy.

“Damn it.”

Regulus growled as he sat up a steady pace that left both of you moaning each other’s names. Flipping his now messy curls back, Regulus let his head fall back as your body began to tighten around his.

You weren’t even able to say that you were coming as your orgasm hit you. Regulus’ eyes snapped open wide.

“Fuck, princess. You’re going to suffocate my cock...keep going.”

Regulus pounded you through your orgasm until he felt his building.

"Oh my god, I can't hold it,"

He said through clenched teeth. Regulus’ pace quickened as his balls slapped against your ass. He gave you a few more quick deep thrusts then his whole body stiffened and froze on the brink of what was quite possibly the best orgasm that he had in a long time. Unable to hold back any longer, he exploded inside of you.

When the waves subsided, Regulus collapsed on top of you. He smiled when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders trying to preserve the close contact. Regulus wasn’t about to pull away. He wanted to keep his cock inside of you. Between your body being nice and warm and hopes of a round two, withdrawing made no sense.

Regulus’ peaceful state was ruined when there was a knock on the door.

“Mother fucking hell.”

Regulus grunted as he pulled out of you and reached for an abandoned towel to wrap around his waist. He hoped that whoever was on the other side of the door didn’t mind being greeted by his naked self with love bites all over his neck.

Cracking the door, Regulus frowned seeing Sirius on the other side. His older brother’s eyes widened seeing Regulus’ current state. Sirius didn’t expect Regulus with only a towel around his waist to open the door. He had a feeling that if he looked further in the room he would see you butt booty naked waiting for Regulus to come back.

“First off, gross. Second, I have some bad news...dad was found dead. It looks like death eaters did it. I have a feeling that this is tied in with our old buddy Emma Rosier.”

Regulus’ mouth dropped.

“I’ll be downstairs in five minutes.”

_______

@amelie-black @regulusheadcanons @truly-insatiable @realgaytrash @sunles @fific7 @val-sixx @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @spiderxalmighty @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @hazncalsgal @bennyberry @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @acciosiriusblack @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @hankypranky @fandom-trash-worth-it @summer-novak @marichromatic @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @shitfaceddaniel @deanwherescas @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

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lonestarbabe · 3 years

Text

Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 9: Wish I Could Forget

[AO3]

T.K. makes a confession, Carlos deals with his manipulative dad.

---

You were something else I will admit

I remember what you told me

I only wish I could forget

Carlos

They’d been on the bus all day, and as much as he tried to keep track, Carlos couldn’t remember what the next location was. He’d find out when he got there. T.K. had warned him that it would happen like that; the days would stretch together, and so would the locations. Carlos hadn’t believed him. He figured there was no way that he could forget something as simple as where he was going, but when you were almost constantly on the road bouncing from location to location, the places blurred, and the highway went on without end. I never guessed the tour would feel so long or that riding across the country could be so exhausting.

Carlos wasn’t alone in that sentiment. Everyone he’d spoken to had agreed that tour was exhausting for everyone involved once the high of the excitement started to fade into a loose routine but a routine nonetheless. Their days were closely planned, leaving few moments for excursions and sightseeing. Energy shots and coffee kept them going through the long days and irregular hours. Carlos missed home, especially when sleep was elusive. He hadn’t been the best at keeping up with his friends, but tour could be lonely, so he’d call Michelle, who was equally bad at keeping in touch, or some of his buddies, or even his sister. Everyone was friendly, and it wasn’t like he had any issues with his coworkers, but they were busy. And Carlos had shrugged off invites with the crew to hang out with T.K. instead, partially because he knew that when T.K. got lonely, he spiraled. And I want to do my part to prevent that from happening.

But his commitment to spending time with T.K. wasn’t just about T.K. Mostly, Carlos spent so much time with T.K. because T.K. was a good friend. Carlos could spend hours listening to T.K. tell tales of his storied life. Carlos liked to tell stories of his own, too, and one of his favorite things was eliciting that easy, full-chested laugh from T.K., who usually employed a practiced laugh that was polished but shallow. Carlos loved the way T.K.’s face lit up when he brought T.K. colorful doughnuts. The doughnuts from the morning’s bakery stop were half-eaten, the most sprinkled ones already gone. The half-empty box made Carlos smile.

The bus was eerily quiet. No one considered bus rides passive time. As the bus plodded down the highway, everyone kept busy ordinarily, making calls and double-checking that all the arrangements were in order, but Carlos and T.K. were alone. T.K. had barely moved, let alone do any work. Carlos’ favorite bus activity was when T.K. would strum his guitar and write songs, and Carlos would pretend not to listen closely, while T.K. would hide in his bunk. T.K.’s private songwriting was more personal than the stuff he put on his albums, and T.K. trusted Carlos enough to play those intimate pieces near him.

There was no music playing in that music, not even over the expensive speakers that T.K. loved to use when the silence made him antsy. T.K. was mute, bouncing his leg and staring out at the stretch of gray sky. T.K. looked cozy in his pink cotton hoodie, but he kept tugging at it as if it were too tight or itchy.

“You look anxious,” Carlos pointed out, sitting next to T.K. on the couch. His eyebrows scrunched together as he searched T.K.’s face for signs of sickness, sadness, or homesickness, but he couldn’t recognize the meaning of that particular facial expression. His eyes were too sad to be angry, and his jaw was too clenched for him just to be sad. T.K.’s face was a combination of things that Carlos couldn’t quite decode. Someday, I’ll be able to look at his face and immediately know what he’s thinking. I’ll memorize the shapes his face makes. I’ll learn what he’s trying to express, even if he doesn’t know how to express it.

T.K. startled, eyes flitting to Carlos’. “Just thinking,” T.K. avoided Carlos’ eyes and turned his head back to the sky, which was unusual for someone who intensely made eye contact to the point that it made some people uncomfortable. Carlos never looked away. Carlos’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it— barely felt it— his focus on intently on T.K.

“Care to share?” Carlos prodded gently. He knew better than to pressure T.K. to talk. If T.K. spoke about his feelings, it was on his own time, but it usually took some prodding before T.K. would open up.

“I don’t know.” T.K. shifted a few inches away from Carlos, pulling his arms closer to his body and looking like a figurine of the larger-than-life presence the world knew.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos tried once more, and if T.K. didn’t give him anything after that, he wouldn’t push anymore.

“You,” T.K. admitted, biting his lip.

“Me?” Carlos’ eyes widened. “Did I do something?” He searched his mind for something he might’ve done that would’ve offended T.K., but things had been easy between them lately. T.K. had been going out less, and he seemed to be doing better, which took some of the stress away that filled Carlos’ voice with tension.

“You’re perfect.” T.K. shook his head. “No, you haven’t done anything bad.” Then, what did I do? “It’s what I did.”

“What did you do? T.K., I’m a little lost here.”

“You’re going to be mad.” Carlos wanted to shake T.K. and tell T.K. to spit it out already, but he chose to be patient.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Not yet,” T.K. hedged.

Carlos leaned closer to T.K., palms getting sweaty. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re friends.”

T.K scratched his neck. “Yeah, friends.” Why did he say it like that?

“Well, we are, aren’t we?” Carlos didn’t even want to imagine how he would feel if the answer was no.

“I hope so, but there are things about me that you don’t know.” T.K. took a breath. “And you might rethink things when you know.” T.K. was an expert at prolonging conversations to avoid giving answers.

“You don’t know everything about me either, and that’s fine.” Carlos had a whole history that he’d barely mentioned to T.K., and he didn’t plan on bringing it up because what was the point of bringing up the past when it was long gone. But if he asked, I’d tell him. “It’s okay if there are things you don’t want to tell me.” But I want to know everything.

“Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you,” he heard T.K. say, voice too soft. I know, T.K., so tell me.

Carlos’ heart stiffened. “T.K., you’re stalling.” Carlos nervously chuckled when T.K. didn’t respond right away. “The anticipation will probably be worse than the confession,” Carlos assured, and he was trying to convince himself as much as he was T.K.

T.K.

T.K.’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was more nervous telling Carlos the truth than he had ever been before a show. It was easy to perform in front of thousands of people he didn’t know. It was harder to come clean to someone he didn’t want to disappoint. The tone of Carlos’ voice made it even harder. He sounded so concerned, even though T.K. had never given him a reason to care that deeply.

“I messed up,” T.K. admitted, and the words reminded him of all the times he’d had to say that. He remembered times he had drank too much or taken too many pills and called Marjan thinking that he was dying. Every time he called, those events were impressed into her voice as she asked, “Are you okay?” right away instead of saying hello. Or when he’d walked two miles to Judd’s house, disoriented and shivering because he’d dramatically jumped into a pool after a fight with Alex. He’d been too mad to wait for a ride and too high to drive himself. Judd had made a threat against Alex before ushering T.K. inside and warming him up. He constantly let people down, and it wasn’t like Carlos didn’t know he was an addict, but it wasn’t something he liked to bring up, and he certainly wasn’t going to use the words for what he was.

“Are you okay?” Not, “What did you do this time?” or “Here we go again.” Carlos’ brown eyes were soft and caring. The words were those of a friend, not just someone paid to make sure T.K. didn’t fuck up any more than expected. He looked everyone with those cow eyes, but T.K. liked to think there was extra softness when Carlos looked at him. Maybe it was because T.K. was pathetic more than because Carlos actually liked him as a person.

“Don’t be so nice,” T.K. pleaded. He couldn’t stand Carlos being so friendly to him when he deserved misery that Carlos would never give him.

Carlos’ face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not okay as I’ve been making out,” which wasn’t much of a mystery for the people around T.K.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Carlos said dryly. “But recovery takes time. It’s okay to struggle sometimes.”

T.K. wanted to cry at the hope in Carlos’ eyes. He really thinks I’m getting better. He’s convinced that I want to change, but I don’t want to participate in my change. I want to sleep through getting better and wake up feeling sane. “You know how I talked a lot about my therapist?” He’d gone out of his way more times than he’d admit to mentioning his therapist so that Carlos would think it was for real. I can’t be trusted.

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, she seems nice.”

“I was just saying all that stuff to make you feel better. It’s not true.” There, he’d said it. He waited for the screaming that would follow, the “Why are you ruining your life?” in that same voice his mom always used when she realized having a kid was more than an eighteen-year commitment.

Confusion spread on Carlos’ face. “She isn’t nice?”

“No, she is nice. Well, I don’t know. I ditched my appointments.” He was quick to add. “I’m seeing another one now, but that’s a new thing..”

“Why did you make up all those stories? You could have told me the truth,” Carlos sounded devastated.

“You can yell at me,” T.K. told him. Yelling would have made T.K. feel better. He would have deserved it, a suitable penance for the sins he had committed, but Carlos wasn’t going to give him absolution in the way he wanted it.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You should. I won’t listen if you don’t make me feel like the scum of the earth.” I might not even listen then, but I might feel better.

“Don’t be stupid,” Carlos snapped. He immediately looked apologetic “Sorry.” T.K. wanted him to go back to snappish comments. He didn’t want the normal, constrained Carlos who could keep his temper in check. He wanted a verbal lashing to get the anger out of the way and start working towards forgiveness. “Yelling won’t change the situation,” Carlos explained. “I’m not going to yell at you.”

“I’d feel better if you yelled at me than whatever approach you’re taking now.”

“I’d feel worse if I yelled, so just drop it.”

“I’m telling you that you can. It wouldn’t be immoral or anything if I’m asking you to do it.”

“No,” Carlos said, sounding disgusted at the idea. “I don’t want to be a part of your self-destructive spiral!”

“I’m not on a self-destructive spiral.” I’m not, T.K. tried to convince himself, but there was something about destroying himself that felt so right. The feeling of getting wasted wasn’t just about the high. He liked the fall too, the deterioration of self. Because destruction eases the bitterness, but I don’t want to hurt anyone other than me. The only problem was that his self-destruction didn’t just impact him. The people in his life, the ones he hadn’t pushed away or kept at a distance, hurt as he shoved himself closer to oblivion. Sometimes, he wanted to feel alive, while other times, he wanted to feel dead. The jury’s out on which I want to be. Who didn’t fantasize about the demise of the person they hated the most? It’s nice to let go, shirk responsibility, and leave my future up to fate.

“You might recognize it if you went to see a therapist,” Carlos said as a plea more than a scolding. The hurt T.K. caused had already spread to Carlos, and the thought made him hate himself more.

“I’m seeing one now.” T.K. quipped, We haven’t gotten to a self-destructive spiral yet.” It had only been one virtual session, but he’d scheduled another.

“I’m glad to hear that, T.K., but you still lied to me.”

“You seemed so happy when I told you I’d go to therapy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” The illusion of a functional T.K. Strand has always been the side of him that T.K. wanted Carlos to see because the real T.K. Strand is embarrassing, messy, and pathetic.

“I’d rather you be honest with me. You don’t need to spare my feelings. It’s hard for me to protect you when I don’t even know what’s going on with you.” T.K. didn’t even know what was going on with himself. And maybe that was why everyone was so insistent that he go to a professional. Professionals were supposed to help you sort all that out. But what if I’m beyond help?

Carlos

Carlos wanted to yell; he wouldn’t deny that anger was brimming in his chest, making him crazy with fear and anxiety. That’s all the anger was—the fear and anxiety that T.K. wasn’t okay— that I can’t protect him. Carlos had caught T.K. falling back into old habits occasionally— drugs, drinking, sex with dangerous-looking guys— but he’d thought T.K. had been doing better. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and T.K. had seemed, for the most part, okay. Carlos painfully wondered what other lies T.K. had told. Had the past few weeks been worse than he knew?

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” T.K. said. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.” No shit, Carlos thought. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t watch him fall apart and do nothing. He’s not doing well, but there’s nothing I can do to make him alright again. He has to do that himself.

Carlos took a breath, resisting the urge to snap again, but he was embarrassed at his earlier outburst. He hated that he lost control like that. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset before. It’s your business how you handle your mental health,” Carlos said, fabricating the cool composure he needed for his own sanity. His voice was a cold front plowing through the tour bus. He wasn’t going to blow up and make a scene, but he wanted to. He wanted to respond with red hot fire. He wanted to ask T.K. why he had been so foolish and to tell him to get his shit together, but those words were his fear, and such words would only make T.K. defensive. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I know, but you’re my friend.” Is this how friends treat each other? Carlos had never been the best at having balanced friendships, so he wasn’t sure.

“Why didn’t you go to see the therapist?” Why didn’t he at least give it a real try?

“I thought I didn’t need it. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to need it. Or I didn’t want to commit.” T.K. sighed. “I have a lot of shit I need to confront, and I feel like I’m trying to find a few prized possessions in a crumbing house that I’ve filled with trash. And to get anywhere, I’ve got to clear the trash away piece by piece.”

“But you’re ready to try?” He wondered if T.K. had decided to go on his own or if Judd, Marjan, or one of his other friends had pushed him into it. “You chose to get help?”

“I did, but I’m not making any promises.”

Defeat tugged in Carlos’ chest. “You’re already leaving room to back out the minute things get too hard.” T.K. was already laying the groundwork for future excuses of why therapy didn’t work out, which made Carlos curious about how committed T.K. was to get better.

“It’s not like that. But I know myself. I can’t change. I’ll always ruin everything. I screwed up because that’s what I do, and the sooner you get used to that, the better because if you have expectations of me, you’re only going to be disappointed.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Carlos said, excess irritation creeping into his voice. There went his resolve to act detached. No matter how hard he tried to keep a level head, he was a passionate person. He cared about things, and apathy didn’t suit him. His passion got him in trouble. It got him ousted from the police force when he’d cared more about helping Michelle find her sister than his job, but it was part of him. He fell too fast, and he put too much of himself into anything he did. No matter how much passion carried him away, Carlos wasn’t going to yell. His voice would be impassioned, but he wouldn’t let his rage fully control him. I don’t want to be like my father.

“Like what? All of it is true. I’m always making a mess of my life.”

“Don’t act like you’re bound to screw up and try to push me away because you’re scared of letting anyone get too close. You don’t have to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. You get to make choices, and you can choose to put the work in to get better.”

“I’m trying to warn you.”

“I’m not expecting you to be perfect. I know you might have ups and downs, so don’t find a way out of this before you’ve even started.” I just want you to try. I can deal with anything as long as you try.

“You’re not listening,” T.K. sounded frustrated. “I’m trying to protect. I like you, and you don’t deserve this shitstorm.”

“Bullshit. You’re scared. This isn’t about keeping me safe. I’m a grown man, T.K., and I’ve had people disappoint me before. Many hurt me more than you ever could. Don’t turn this on me because I’m right here standing by your side. If you don’t want to be my friend, walk away, but don’t keep baiting me into doing.”

“That’s not what I want.” Then, why do you keep doing it?

“What do you want?”

“I want to be a person you can like, but the truth is I’m not even a person I can like.” Carlos’ stomach knotted. He wanted to pull T.K. into a hug and confess how much T.K. meant to him, but he resisted the selfish urge. He didn’t want to send the wrong signals (but he also knew if T.K. asked him for a hug, he wouldn’t be able to say no).

Before he could dispute T.K.’s words, Carlos’ phone started buzzing again, the noise sending fresh anger through him. His annoyance only increased when he saw that it was the same unknown number that had been calling him for a week. “Damn it, leave me alone,” he spat to the unanswered phone and tossed it to the couch. It bounced, and Carlos held his breath, but he was relieved when it didn’t fall to the floor.

T.K.

Well, that was weird. Seeing Carlos’ outburst had in some respects been a relief to T.K., but it also sent a shiver down T.K.’s spine because when Carlos gave such a reaction, you knew the situation had to be dreadful. “We’re a pair of perfectly okay people,” T.K. deadpanned.

“They’ve been calling me all day,” Carlos said apologetically. “I’m just frustrated.” He was back to being the constrained Carlos who acted as if problems rolled right off of him. “I’m not mad at you.” He’s always so quick to reassure me.

“I know, man. Telemarketers suck.” T.K. laughed. “They’re more persistent than my stans.”

The comment broke Carlos’ stoic expression, and a slight grin snuck onto his face. “I know that’s not true.”

“That one girl snuck into a trash can.” She was sweet, a little crazy, but hell, so am I!

“I think it was empty.”

“Still, a trashcan,” Carlos razzed. “Those kinds of things are a nightmare for security professionals.”

“She got her autograph, at least.”

“And I got gray hairs and an ulcer. When she popped out, I nearly lost it on her. She’s lucky you stepped in. I would have escorted her swiftly away without ever seeing you, and then I would have put her on the blacklist.”

“You’re overprotective. She wasn’t going to hurt me.” T.K. knew his fans didn’t want to hurt him, so he didn’t worry too much about his safety. Surely, there were people he didn’t like who he should worry about, but he had better things to do than fret over what other people might do. Carlos fretted enough for both of them.

“I’m as protective as I should be.” And I find “protective as I should be” very endearing.

“You know, Carlos. It’s okay to show how you feel sometimes. You don’t always have to act like things don’t bother you. It’s okay to be un-levelheaded. Ignoring emotions doesn’t make them go away. I should know.”

“It’s my job to be levelheaded.”

“You’re very good at it, but that’s not your job, Carlos. It’s your job to protect my body. You focus on saving that.” And I’d keep you around even if you didn’t do that. “As long as you don’t have to put your own in danger.”

“I would without thinking twice,” and T.K. felt his chest tighten at the thought. It’s not right to put him in danger for my safety. Crowd control is one thing, but any actual danger is off the table.

“Stay safe. I can’t lose you.”

“It’s unlikely it will come to that,” and the words that are implied but go unsaid are, “But if it comes to that, I know what I’ll choose.” The thought made T.K. sick.

“I can save myself,” T.K. asserted.

“Start by saving your mind.”

“We’ll see about that,” T.K. said before leaving to find his guitar. He needed some music therapy after that chat. I hope my stupid songs won’t drive Carlos crazy.

Carlos

It was late when Carlos’ phone rang again, the same unknown number on the screen. T.K. had gone to bed; he must’ve been tired to go so early. The number was an Austin area code, so on the off chance that it was someone he knew, he answered.

“What do you want?” expecting to hear a scam caller.

“Hey, Carlito,” a familiar voice crooned, sounding smooth and smug. Carlos nearly hung up. “Nice to talk to you too.”

“Dad? How did you get this number?” Son of a bitch has probably gotten himself arrested again and needs bail, or he’s gambled away his grocery money. Maybe he has a friend whose been accused of some terrible deed he didn’t do. Maybe a con went wrong, and he’s trying not to get beat up.

“Your sister.” Damn it, Carlos thought. This is the last thing I need.

“I told her that I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m your old man.”

“Why did you call?” Carlos persisted. The sooner he knew what his dad wanted, the sooner he could tell him no and hang up. I’m too curious to hang up just yet, and it’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice. It sounds just like it did half a decade ago.

“How’s Taylor?” He hasn’t gotten better at small talk, has he?

“Didn’t you hear we broke up?” Carlos said acerbically.

“How’d that happen?” Carlos could practically hear his dad smiling at the news, probably happy that Carlos’ life had taken a turn towards the awful. Still, while the breakup had been complicated and heartbreaking, Carlos was more satisfied without Taylor in his life. Taylor leaving him had been a relief, even if there were some feelings of sadness and loss.

“Long story short, I got fired, he dumped me, and he blew up the police chief’s car after a bender. So, things didn’t work out, which you would know if you didn’t think the whole world revolved around you.” Carlos waited for a beat. “Now you know the whole sordid saga. What about you? Have you been arrested lately?”

“You’re awfully bitter for being so young.” No shit. You made my childhood a shitshow, and I always had to be there to help you out of your messes while you wouldn’t lift a finger to help me out of mine.

“Cut the, ‘How are you, son?’ talk. Why’d you call?”

“You always expect the worst in me, but I’m not the bad guy.”

Carlos wasn’t afraid of his father anymore, not more than the shadow of fear that sometimes crept up on him with memory. There was part of him that still wanted to cower and try to please his dad so he could get his father’s love, but he had to stay strong and remember that Gabriel Reyes was never going to give him what he wanted. He wasn't going to go back down that spiral. “Who is the villain, Dad. You’re the one who belittled me for years and manipulated me into doing what you wanted.” He kept his voice hushed to avoid disturbing T.K., but he knew that his dad could hear the venom in his voice.

“You haven’t heard what I wanted, but you’re dredging up all the ways I ruined your life.” His dad used his conman voice, the one he always used when he was desperately striving for Carlos’ loyalty. “You forget all the things that I did for you, like making sure food was on the table, and a roof was over your head.” The classic guilt trip had once made Carlos feel guilt and shame, but he knew what manipulation looked like, and he’d worked through all that in his therapy sessions.

“You know what? I’m not listening to this. You’re not going to mess with my head and convince me that I’m somehow in the wrong. Goodbye, Dad. Don’t call again,” Carlos said before hanging up the phone. He didn’t need to listen to his father’s manipulative response to know what he would’ve said. He’d heard it a million times.

Carlos laid back on the couch, staring at the bus ceiling, defeated. He wiped his eyes before the tears could fall, and he remembered how his dad always used to say he was too sensitive to make it in the real world and that he needed to toughen up. Maybe he was sensitive, but at least he wasn’t an insensitive asshole who no one genuinely loved.

He put a hand over his head and tried to tune out the overwhelming feelings. Why does he keep making me feel this way? There’s a reason I kept him out of my life, and it needs to stay that way. I need to talk to Lola and talk to her about giving him my number. That shouldn’t have happened. If he keeps bothering me, I might have to change my number. Before he could contemplate further, a weight settled at the end of the couch by Carlos’ feet. “Are you okay?” T.K. asked.

“Sorry I woke you,” Carlos said, not lifting his head to look at T.K. I’m such a loser.

“I can’t sleep, anyway.”

“How much did you hear?” No matter how quiet Carlos had tried to be, they were still on a bus, and the sound carried through the curtains splitting the sections.

Carlos lifted his head enough to see T.K. shrug. “Not much. I had my noise-canceling headphones on, but you sounded upset, so I thought you might want company.” I love this man, the thought flashed through Carlos’ mind before he could be consciously aware of it.

“They aren’t very good at noise-canceling, are they?” Carlos tried to joke, but his voice was flat, and T.K.’s eyes darkened. I can’t even pretend that I’m halfway okay.

“I guess not,” T.K. said evenly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The conversation felt oddly reminiscent of the one he’d had earlier with T.K. “My dad called.”

“You don’t get along, right?” T.K.’s words were cautious.

“That’s an understatement. We don’t talk. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew it was him.”Carlos knew dad-talk was hard for T.K., so he proceeded carefully. “Not all dads are heroes. Mine is the opposite of a hero.”

“What is yours?”

“A nasty bastard, a cheat, and a con artist.” And that’s to put it nicely. “He’s a slimy coward who will use anyone he meets for his own selfish purposes.”

“I hate him already.” T.K.’s face grew dark. “Did he hurt you?” T.K. rolled his lip inward. “You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s okay. He never hit me or anything.” But he messed with my head, and he made me think that I could never be good enough. He made my relationship with my sister tense because she can’t understand why I can’t talk to him. She’s still falling for his dastardly tricks. Those tricks are probably how he got my number.

“I didn’t ask if he hit you.”

“He hurts everyone who gets close, so I don’t take it personally.”

“Hurt is always personal,” T.K. said, the pain on Carlos’ face all he needed to know. “I’m sorry.”

“My dad said never apologize for bastards. It’s the only thing he got right.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing good. I hung up before he could say too much.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“I think so.” Carlos shrugged. “I don’t think knowing what he wanted would have made me feel better.”

“You mentioned once that you missed him sometimes. Are you missing him now?”

“You remember that?” Carlos looked surprised. “No, I’m not missing him. I’m missing a version of him that only ever existed in my wishes.”

“I get it. The things I miss most about my dad are the things we’ll never get to have—imagined wedding days and playing with my kids. Things like that.”

“Yeah, I used to want him to change so badly. I wanted a normal dad. I thought that if I could be everything he wanted in a son, that somehow that would be enough. But it never was. He only cared about how much I could do for him. He still only calls me when he needs a favor.”

“Did he say what he needed?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. Probably money. Or he wants me to call in a favor.”

“That sucks.”

“I’m used to it. It’s been years since we’ve talked, so I don’t have to deal with him normally.”

“He’s probably dying,” T.K. said with a sympathetic voice. Carlos hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps, he was dying. He probably wants me to give him an organ. But what if he really was dying? Would Carlos have wanted to talk to him then?

The thought sent a traitorous blast of sadness through Carlos. “I don’t think so. He would have started with that and would have gone straight into the guilt trip.”

“Why else would he call after so long? I’m not saying to make amends with that asshole or anything, but it’s something to consider.”

“I don’t care if he’s dying.”

“Maybe you don’t want to care,” T.K. pointed out. “But you wouldn’t have that look on your face if you really didn’t.”

Carlos had been caught, and he didn’t have the energy to keep denying the truth. “Good bullshit meter.” Carlos yawned. The call left him confused and depleted.

T.K.

T.K.’s bullshit meter was finicky at best, but Carlos was easy to read. “Not really. I just know you, Carlos. You’ve got the world’s biggest heart.” I should know. He’s found a way to like me.

“I don’t know about that.”

T.K. imagined kissing Carlos’ chest to impress the answer right where it mattered, but he settled for mere words because anything more could only live in frivolous daydreams.“I do.” Carlos looked so forlorn that T.K. couldn’t resist something more physical. Kisses were out, but friends could comfort each other without it being weird. “Let me help.”

“Help?” T.K. nodded and pulled his body up the couch so that he could squeeze himself closer to Carlos. “What are you doing?” Carlos asked with a bemused expression, but he scooted his body over to make more room for T.K. to fit in the sliver of space next to Carlos.

“Reminding that you aren’t alone.” An insecure pang struck T.K. Maybe he was going about this wrong. “This isn’t weird, is it?”

Carlos inhaled. He thought for a few beats and then shook his head. “It’s nice.”

“Sometimes, you just need to be close to someone, you know?” T.K. reassured. “It doesn’t have to be anything more than a friend giving another friend comfort.”

“You’re practically on top of me,” Carlos laughed.

“I can move,” T.K. said, voice sinking. Am I making a fool of himself? Can he tell that I think about him in ways I shouldn’t? Does he see that I more than like him? T.K. felt like a little boy with a schoolyard crush. It would never amount to anything, but the mere thought delighted him. Maybe I just like that he’s good to me. Is someone nice to me all it takes for me to fall in love? Am I that pathetic? But he knew it was more than that. Something about Carlos made him feel more secure than he ever had, and it wasn’t related to Carlos being his bodyguard.

As he shifted to get up, Carlos grabbed his arm and turned onto his side, pulling T.K.’s back against his chest. T.K. memorized the exuberant feeling of being so close to Carlos because he didn’t know when it would end. “Don’t. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to hold.”

“You can’t tell me that the whole crew isn’t all over you.” T.K. said with a grin. “That cute smile and those cow eyes.”

“Cow eyes?” Carlos asked, indignant, and T.K.’s chest bloomed with warmth.

“They’re adorable.” T.K. was weak to those eyes, as anyone would rightfully be.

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment, my little teddy bear,” Carlos teased.

“Carlos!” T.K. blushed.

“Now you know how it feels.”

“I was complimenting you.” Carlos made T.K. feel safe, and T.K. wanted to make Carlos feel safe too.

A moment passed, a snug, easy moment. “Thank you, T.K.,” Carlos said so sincerely that T.K. thought he might melt. He turned over so that he was facing Carlos; their bodies were pressed close, and together they were warm and strong. He held eye contact, testing if he could make Carlos look away with his intensity, but Carlos didn’t look away.

“Thanks for what? Comparing you to a cow?”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “For being here.”

“We’re on a bus. There aren’t many places I can go. Besides, you’re literally here for me all the time.”

“It’s my job,” Carlos brushed the comment off, as he often did when T.K. became too praising of Carlos’ efforts.

“You made a list of the best bakeries in the country and make the bus driver when we pass one so you can get me doughnuts.”

“He doesn’t mind. I feed him doughnuts for his troubles.” Carlos shrugged. “I like doughnuts too.” Carlos yawned again.

“But you get them for me.”

“Friends give friends doughnuts.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said drowsily. T.K. said nothing until he felt Carlos’ breaths evening.

“I love doughnuts,” T.K. whispered to check if Carlos was sleeping. “I love you,” T.K. said, his heart fluttering with the admission. He laughed to himself. Even as Carlos let out soft snores, chest rising and falling evenly with the rhythm of sleep, the words were hard to say, but he meant each one of them.

#holding out for a hero #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #my fics #elise writes #wip

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xplrerdolan · 4 years

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 [ 𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘋𝘖𝘓𝘈𝘕 ]

⤬ SUMMARY: Your relationship with Ethan is a little complicated -- after meeting him at a bar and fucking him in what was meant to be a one-night stand, you can’t seem to get rid of him. The cocky asshole won’t leave you alone, and, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t leave him alone either. You hate him, detest him, can’t stand him -- but god does he know how to fuck you just right. You know this cycle can’t lead anywhere good… or, can it?

⤬ WARNINGS: lots of aggressive sex, lots of sex, sex, and some fluff to tie it all together

⤬ A/N: when i first posted this, i was returning from a 5-week hiatus that i had taken to finish up my semester. the original author’s note was, “i’m back >:)”, which i feel speaks to the significance of this piece. for a longer author’s note with a greater explanation, please click here.

⤬ WORD COUNT: 14.3k

❋ ❋ ❋

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” you asked, an optimistic smile upturned on your face, leaning in to force yourself to believe you were interested. Maybe if you acted out the body language, you could trick your brain into liking this guy.

Ricky, his name was. You repeated it in your head over and over, not wanting to awkwardly forget it. He looked sort of similar to his Tinder profile pictures, enough so that you couldn’t cry catfish. “I like hunting and fishing a lot,” Ricky said, and you bristled.

You tried not to show it, tried to salvage whatever was left of your chances of getting a good fuck out of your third Tinder date of the week, but jesus did you hate guys who hunted and fished. Whether you ate animals or not, it was such a weird and fucked up hobby. The fact that people saw hunting and fishing -- killing animals -- as a means of fun rather than survival rubbed you all the wrong ways.

“What do you like about it?” you tried, as you had been all night.

“Well, I used to do it with my dad,” he said, a small smile coming across his features. For a second, you relaxed, thinking perhaps there’d be a sentimental moment, and maybe you could look past his dirty habit, because maybe it held nostalgic value. But then, he continued. “Plus, there’s something real amazing about taking down an animal bigger than you. Kind of exhilarating, actually.”

You let out a deflated sigh, all the hope for the evening rushing out of your body. You twirled your vodka cranberry around in its cup, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. You looked away from your “date” to glance at the television, briefly assessing the score plastered across the bottom of the screen to see what team was winning. When the hockey game on the screen didn’t pique your interest, you glanced around at the sticky bartop, little spills of water, soda, and juice that had yet to be taken care of because of the rush of customers, barely noticeable in the dingy, yellow light of the bar.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you told Ricky, with the bearded man barely looking up from his beer as he grunted a sound of acknowledgement, eyes glued to the TV. You were almost certain he’d wanted to take you there just to watch the game. He didn’t seem to notice you take your drink with you on your way to the “bathroom.”

Really, you were just ready to give it up and call it quits. You were fully prepared to call a taxi to take you home, shower, and go to sleep. You even pulled out your phone to order a ride when you were knocked into, your drink spilling all over your white top.

You were ready to apologize, the words forming in the back of your throat as you looked up in shock at the much larger man who’d caused you to make the mess in the first place. But before you could even make a sound, you were being yelled at. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

His voice was rough, and he was clearly angry. For a second, you were worried this stranger was going to try to pick a fight with you, and considering how much larger he was than you, it would be no question how it would turn out. But when he got a good look at you, and saw what the liquid had done to your shirt, a smirk slowly spread across his face. “Nice tits,” he commented, his eyes nearly smoldering. He let his eyes roam over your body and you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Gross,” you replied back, slamming your now-empty glass on the counter beside him, walking toward the exit with even more purpose than before.

“Hey, hey, wait up,” he called after you, his eyes fixed on the curve of your ass while you walked away from him. You didn’t turn back to face him while you marched forward to get back to your house. Once outside, you thought you’d be in the clear, but this guy was particularly persistent.

His hand gripped your wrist, making you turn toward him and pull yourself out of his grasp. “What?!” you spat at him, your anger flaring in your chest.

He scoffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Well, I was going to say sorry for snapping, but now I’d say we’re even,” he said, his tone accusatory.

“Even?” you challenged, stressing the word as you narrowed your eyes at him. “You yelled at me and then told me I had nice tits.”

“Yeah, I gave you a compliment and everything. You’ve just been nasty to me,” he said, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to you.

You leaned even closer to him, getting a little more in his face. “That wasn’t a compliment, and I don’t owe you anything.”

“Never said you did,” he said, his voice rising again out of irritation.

“There you go, yelling again,” you accused, your noses practically touching at this point.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” His voice continued to get louder, making you growl and do the only thing you could think of at that moment -- you kissed him.

The kiss could only be described as angry; nothing but passion, teeth, and smashed lips. But he reciprocated and was clearly eager to. All the anger from tonight and your sexual frustration for the past month was coming out into this kiss, and he seemed to be letting things out, too. Just as his arms were moving to grip your waist and pull you closer to him, you got a notification that your driver was here, and would be departing in five minutes.

You hesitated only briefly, looking up at the guy you’d been kissing to meet his lust-filled gaze, eyeing his full, slightly swollen lips before grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him towards your cab.

“Oh, it’s fine when you do it, but not when I do it,” he said, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Shut up,” you retorted, rolling your eyes right back, even though he couldn’t see you. You both got into the backseat of a Honda Civic, immediately going back to kissing him as soon as he shut the door.

The ride was mostly silent, save for the driver turning up his music so he didn’t have to hear the two of you smacking lips in the back of his car. Normally, you wouldn’t be acting this way in a stranger’s car. You were surprising yourself. But this guy just made you so angry, it was like you couldn’t think straight. Plus, it was hard to resist his lips.

When the car stopped, and you saw you’d reached your destination, you pulled yourself away from the guy to get out of the car. You hastily paid the driver on your phone, tipping him a good amount for having to deal with your out-of-control behavior, and ran up to your apartment.

It was on the second floor of a two-story complex, more a condo than anything else. As you walked up the stairs, the guy grabbed a handful of your ass, and you moaned just loud enough for him to hear. When you made it to your front door, you hastily reached inside your purse to unlock the door, with the guy gripping you from behind while he placed open-mouthed, hot kisses into the skin on your neck. He let his hands trail up your stomach and over your still-wet breasts, nearly growling as he squeezed them.

The pleasure he was giving you clouded your mind, making you fumble with your keys. Growing impatient, he grabbed your keys from your hand and opened the door himself, which mildly annoyed you, but you were too focused on getting him in your bed to care.

You hurriedly closed and locked the door behind you, turning around to meet the man’s lips. You moaned openly into the kiss, your arms wrapping around him as he pulled you flush against him. You didn’t want to pull away again, but you had to to take him to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning the lights on, only slightly stumbling over some objects as you made your way to your bed. You pulled him onto the bed with you, his hard body situating itself between your legs with ease. Your lips reconnected with his, once again releasing some of that anger you’d been holding in all night.

He helped you lift your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you’d worn underneath. You knew that in the dark, he couldn’t see it, but that didn’t stop him from dipping his head to kiss the tops of the swells of your breasts that peeked over the fabric. He reached behind you to impressively snap off your bra, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere while he gripped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his lips to your nipple. You arched into his touch, your hands flying into his hair, pulling on the dark strands. He groaned at the feeling, and you pulled harder, making him bite the hardened bud to make you squeal.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him the ability to grind your bodies together, a whine escaping you as his jeans moved against yours, his hands moving to unbutton them. He undid both your jeans and helped you pull yours down before pulling his own down. He was quick to rid himself of his boxers, leaving you barely able to make out the size of his length. He ripped your panties off your body with a harsh tug, making you protest with a shout.

“Hey, those were nice!” you hissed at him, giving his shoulder a shove -- which did nothing, given his stature and strength.

“I think you’ll live,” he replied sarcastically. “My name’s Ethan by the way. You’ll need to know that in a second.”

“For wha-- oh, god, Ethan!”

He’d sheathed himself fully inside you in one swift motion, making your body jerk away from him while your hands flew to his back, nails digging ruthlessly into his skin. He hissed at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you there instead of trying to escape him.

“Told you,” he smirked, beginning to snap his hips forward to meet yours.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his middle which only pulled him deeper, a sensation you both wanted to run from and wanted more of. It was extremely jarring; a feeling you’d never experienced with any other man. You could only moan in response to the feeling, your hips bucking up to meet his as your body craved more of him.

The man -- Ethan -- pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, slapping your thigh quickly. You complied, flipping over exhaustedly while you presented yourself to him.

He spit onto your pussy, lubricating it even more than it already was, before sliding back inside you with ease. You pushed back on him, making him bottom out, which made him curse heavily and grab your hips with brute force. He started rocking your body back onto him while thrusting forward, taking complete control of you.

“You like that?” he asked through gritted teeth, his thighs slapping melodically against yours. “You like when I fuck you this hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He bent over your body, his head next to your ear while he took a fistful of your hair to pull him back towards himself. “Of course you do, you little slut. Bet you want it harder,” he taunted you, laughing a little while he continued slamming his cock into you.

“Yeah, right, like you can go harder,” you said, truly not believing that he could possibly fuck you any harder than he already was.

He laughed again, his free hand moving to spank you harshly. “You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered, sitting up and letting go of your hair.

He grabbed your hips again, pulling out of you almost entirely to thrust fully back in with a force that had you screaming. He was pulling you back as he pushed forward, but with enough force behind his thrusts that his grip on your middle was the only thing holding you up.

Him being so rough with you had a coil in your core tightening faster than any man had ever achieved. “Ethan,” you screamed, your eyes starting to cloud with tears as pleasure overwhelmed you. “I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice going higher and higher in pitch.

“Give it to me, baby,” he encouraged, continuing his lethal attack to your body. You came harder than you ever had, actually managing to squirt onto him, a feeling that was enough to trigger his own orgasm.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked quickly.

“Inside me, cum inside me, please,” you begged, fighting to push back against him to get him deeper.

“Fuck—“ he grunted, stilling behind you while he emptied his load into you. “I hope you’re on the pill,” he said as he came down, realizing how bad this situation could turn out if you weren’t.

“Obviously I am, dumbass,” you said, your mind still reeling from how hot the sex you’d just had was.

“It’s actually not obvious, asshole,” he retorted, slapping you on the ass before pulling out.

You were completely exhausted, watching him move around your room from your position on your bed, your fucked out form just laying there with a stranger’s cum leaking out of you. As Ethan got dressed, he looked at you with a smirk. “You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re screaming my name instead of screaming at me,” he quipped, winking at you.

“You yelled at me,” you grumbled, honestly too tired to fight him.

“Whatever,” he said, moving over to your phone on your nightstand. You were going to protest, really, you were — but you were so tired you couldn’t care.

He unlocked your phone with your thumb, quickly adding himself to your contacts and sending his own phone a text from yours. He looked over at you when he finished, tilting his head to look at your still naked body, covered in sweat, his cum still dripping from you. It was a gorgeous sight, and he wanted to do something gentle, soft; show his gratitude and appreciation for you. But instead, he settled on a quick slap to your ass, which you whined at the contact of, still sensitive after such an intense fuck.

He let himself out, and you made the small effort of getting under your covers and curling up to fall asleep. You thought that would be the last you’d ever hear or see of Ethan, and you were fine with that. You’d probably regret fucking him later -- he was such a jerk. The way he acted was gross. You’d normally never let a guy like him anywhere near your bed -- let alone your pussy.

You’d also never been more wrong about a situation.

The next morning, you groaned as you turned over in your bed, your muscles absolutely killing you. It was a soreness you loved; a sign of a truly good fuck. You’d needed it, and as much as it hurt to move right now, you were grateful for it. You felt at ease, especially having let out such an exuberant amount of emotions the night prior.

You slowly opened your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight that peeked through the curtains, and reached your arm over to your nightstand. You grabbed your phone, checking to see the time. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, and you sat up with a heavy yawn. You scrolled through your notifications, and ended up with a furrowed brow. There was a text from an unknown number, with just the details of an address.

You were surprised to find that you’d sent your address and they’d sent theirs. This happened last night, which you could see from the timestamp which read 2:36am. You could tell the number belonged to Ethan, and you didn’t bother putting his name in. You really didn’t have any other plans to see him again -- one good fuck would be fine for you.

You got out of bed, still naked from the night before, and shuffled over to your shower. You turned the water on hot, brushing your teeth while you waited for the water to get warmer. Your attention was called to your phone when it vibrated, rolling your eyes when you saw who the text was from. Ethan’s number. You decided to ignore it, getting into the shower and allowing the hot water to roll over your body. You scrubbed away the makeup and memories from the night before, focusing on massaging your muscles. You washed your hair, face, and body, turning off the water and grabbing your towel to pat yourself dry before putting your robe on.

You checked your phone to see you actually had seven unread messages from Ethan’s number. With a roll of your eyes, you unlocked your phone to read the texts.

(unknown number): hey. left my belt at your place. gonna stop by today to grab it (unknown number): actually i have to come over sooner than later (unknown number): will you fucking answer (unknown number): i swear if you’re ignoring me (unknown number): i just realized i don’t even know your name (unknown number): girl with the nice tits, answer your phone (unknown number): brat, answer your phone

You felt anger flare in your chest at the sheer disrespect of his tone talking to you. You let this guy fuck you last night. And fuck, did it piss you off that he thought he could talk to you like that.

(you): i should accidentally take a pair of scissors and destroy your belt for how you talk to me

He replied almost instantly.

(unknown number): and i should accidentally shove my dick down your throat for how YOU talk to ME

Although you were frowning at your phone, staring at his words with a harsh glare, you couldn’t deny the heat between your legs at the thought. You were really into shit like that; being taken control of, being dominated, being used… but you had to remember who you were talking to. You took a steadying breath, ready to type a reply when he started typing again.

(unknown number): i’m coming over, i’ll be there in 5. just want my belt

You quickly replied with fine, taking your towel to dry your hair a bit. Just as you were hanging up your towel, you heard a knock on your door. But he didn’t just knock once, no -- he started drumming on your front door. You rushed to open it, the fear of your neighbors hearing it making panic and anger rise in your throat. You thrust the door open quickly, already greeting him with fury in your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your robe-covered chest.

He looked you up and down — hair wet, face bare, robe wrapped around your body, your legs exposed — prettier than he remembered. Even with your scowl scrunching up your features. He smirked at you, “I’m impatient.”

“Clearly,” you sneered, moving from your doorway to let him in.

In the sunlight, he was able to see your apartment, and he could only describe it as cozy. Dark hardwood floors with a white, tan, and dusty pastel color scheme running throughout. He turned his attention on your retreating form, deciding he should probably follow you.

“Shoes off,” you told him.

“You didn’t seem too worried about my shoes last night,” he teased, but started to take his shoes off nevertheless. He left them by your front door, sock-clad feet barely making a sound as he followed you down a hallway to your room.

Other than the clothes from last night — and his belt over in the corner — your bedroom was tidy. It kept the same color scheme as the rest of your apartment, and he thought about how Grayson would probably like it. He decided to mention it to you.

“Nice place. My twin brother would like it.”

“You have a twin?” you asked, quirking a brow at him.

He nodded, almost preparing himself for oncoming questions he always seemed to get about it. But instead, you just scoffed, “Great. There’s two of you. Just when I was gaining a little more hope in the world.”

Taken aback, Ethan barked a laugh. He shook his head in amusement, “You’re really such a bitch.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at him. “I’m a bitch? You still never apologized for what you did to me last night.”

“What — make you cum?” he asked, walking closer to you now, his steps slow and calculated. “Make you beg for more? Pump you full of my cum just like you wanted? Fuck, I bet there’s still some inside you.”

He was right in front of you now, your body trembling from the memory and the way he spoke to you. You’d enjoyed every second of him being inside of you, from the way he’d moved his hips to the feeling of his hands on you. You couldn’t deny you wanted more if you tried — Ethan could see the lust returning to your face, and watched your breathing change.

He brought a hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing the skin before it moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to bring you closer to him. “You want more?”

You nodded, your eyes glued to his. He laughed darkly, his other hand coming up to slap you just hard enough for you to know it was a punishment. “Use your words, brat. Tell me how bad you want me.”

“Fuck, I want you, want you inside me, daddy—“

You gasped a little when you called him that, not sure if you’d just ruined the moment. But you could tell from the way his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head that he loved it. And if that hadn’t been telling enough, you definitely knew he loved it by the way he pushed your upper body forward so you were bent over onto your bed, hearing him quickly undo his pants, and spank you roughly on your ass.

Your body jolted away from him, the soreness in your body ever present. You whimpered audibly, which made him laugh. His hand came down on your ass again, the force behind it merciless. “Sore?”

You nodded, but that earned you another spank, which made you yelp out, “Yes! Yes, I’m sore.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, running his hand over your reddened skin to soothe it. “Who made you this sore?”

“You, daddy,” you whimpered, your hands balling into fists in the sheets. In response, you felt his dick tap your clit, already soaked from the way he was speaking to you. He hummed as he felt your wetness coat his tip, his free hand gently gliding over your ass before squeezing it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he rasped, and your knees nearly buckled when you realized he was just looking at it, watching it glisten with your juices and clench around nothing while you waited for him.

He seemed to enjoy the way your walls flexed, because he brought the pad of his middle finger to your clit, just to watch the way your body reacted to him. He swirled his finger around it, gathering up some of your wetness before his finger slid up to your smaller, puckered hole.

You tensed at first, surprised by his actions, but he didn’t do anything except let his finger tap the area. “Is this okay?” he asked, softer than before.

You nodded, biting your lip, which he accepted for an answer this time. He could tell by the way you reacted that you didn’t normally experiment with anal play, but that you were inclined to try. He spread your wetness around the area, lightly lubricating it before allowing the tip of his finger to push in.

You sucked in a small breath, the feeling foreign but not uncomfortable. He didn’t move his finger at first, just kept it barely inside you, as he brought his dick up to your entrance. When pushed into you, you let out a deep whine, still feeling sore from the night before. It ached to have him stretching you out again, a feeling that was caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. From the way your holes tightened around his finger and cock, he knew he had to take it slow for the moment.

When he finally pushed himself all the way into you, he let out a satisfied moan, the hand that wasn’t fingering you moving to caress the skin on your back. You moaned, wiggling back on him some more to urge him to start moving. He complied, starting at a pace that wasn’t slow but also wasn’t very fast. He rocked his hips back and forth, more focused on wanting to build your comfort with his finger than anything else.

He started to move his finger, just swirling it around inside you, the nerves there loving the attention. You moaned deeply at the feeling, actually pushing back against him again to tell him you wanted more. However, when his finger went a little deeper, you winced, feeling a sharp pain.

“Easy now, brat. Let’s take it slow,” Ethan warned, his free hand roaming across your skin to help you relax.

“Okay,” you sighed out in relief, trusting him to take care of you.

You were shocked at the realization that you trusted him right now, trusted this guy who you’d only met hours earlier and had had inside you only twice. But at least when he was fucking you, he seemed tolerable. He continued pushing into you, loving the wet sounds your body made for him. He looked down at the little bruises that were appearing from the night before, admired the redness of your skin from his spanks. He couldn’t believe his own mind again -- he was thinking about how beautiful you looked covered up in his marks, how stunning sex appeared on your skin. He shook his head at himself, trying to remember how nasty you could be.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you’d both almost forgot the task at hand. Until you started feeling that familiar coil in your stomach, bringing you back to the present. “Ethan, I’m close,” you told him, your back arching more as you pushed your hips back to try to take him deeper again.

“What’d you call me?” he asked, stilling all his movements. The way you whined in response, clenching desperately around him nearly made him dizzy.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you pouted, trying to move on him to create more pleasure to focus on your building orgasm.

“Nuh-uh, not good enough,” he said, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. “Beg me, brat.”

You protested again, trying to bring your fingers down to meet your clit and bring yourself to orgasm. Ethan was quick to retract his finger from your ass, using both of his hands to hook his arms around yours, making you gasp as your chest was pulled up off the bed. He caught both your arms in a single hand, easily gripping you so you couldn’t move. His other hand came up and wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off your airway slightly.

You swore you could feel yourself get wetter. “You’re going to apologize again and then you’re going to beg me to let you cum. We’ll see if I decide if you’ve earned it,” he growled in your ear before releasing you and pushing you against the bed again.

You gasped for air, your fingers clawing at the sheets again, waves of pleasure already rolling through your body in sharp waves. With the smallest of efforts from him, you could be cumming. You almost wanted to push him farther, see what else he would do if you continued to resist him, but you were afraid he would be as malicious to leave you in this state. Maybe make you get him off and then leave you to deal with it yourself. So, instead of pushing further, you gave in.

“I’m sorry, daddy, please forgive me,” you started, your hips shifting impatiently with him still seated inside you. You moaned at the feeling of him being so deep. “I’ll be a good girl.”

His hips started to roll again, agonizingly slow. “That’s a good start,” he said, his tone approving. “We’ll see if you earn my forgiveness or not.”

“Okay, daddy,” you answered, which pleased him. He liked hearing you submit to him while you were bent over for him, his cum still inside you and about to take more -- it had him gripping your body just that much harder out of pure bliss.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his voice gravelly and low. It sent chills down your spine, your pussy clenching around him in a way that had him already thrusting harder.

“Please make me cum, daddy,” you begged softly, looking over your shoulder innocently at him, hoping your eyes would soften him into giving in to giving you what you needed. And they almost did; he could feel his cock twitch in pleasure at the sight. He almost lost control. Almost.

“And how would I do that?” he asked, needing you to say more.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whined, focusing on not moving on him -- which would only give him more reason to punish you.

“And what else?” he pushed.

“Please?” you tried, thinking the magic word would help.

“Please, what?”

He was looking for something else, and the way his strokes remained slow and steady told you he had the patience to wait all day for you to figure it out. You thought for a second, screwing your eyes shut as you felt him slide in and out of you at a tragically slow pace. It was practically a distraction.

You thought about what you needed, what you wanted him to do more than anything — fuck you, yes, but what else?

Realization struck you, and in your voice was a raw and unmistakable need. “Play with my pussy, daddy, please,” you moaned.

The sound which came from his chest could be described as nothing short of a growl, his hand wrapping around your body to reach your swollen clit and his hips snapping forward again with the strength and speed you needed them at. You cried out in pleasure, your orgasm building fast. He was fucking you so well, hitting spots inside you from this angle and position that you could barely breathe from the pleasure.

You came with a shout, your pussy fluttering around him tightly in a way that had his orgasm following closely behind yours. His hips bucked forward in shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into you again with a satisfied groan.

He pulled out of you and stood back to watch his cum drip out of you again, mesmerized by the sight. He was interrupted by your irritated sigh. “I just showered,” you complained, standing upright and feeling his cum drip out of you and start running down your leg.

“Really? I fucked you and you’re worried about your shower? You really are a brat,” he shook his head.

“My name is (Y/N),” you snapped back.

“Brat suits you better.”

“Whatever. Get your belt and go,” you waved him off, walking back to your bathroom to wipe up the cum that was leaking out of you.

He huffed, obviously annoyed at how dismissive of him you were now that he made you cum. Five minutes ago, you were putty in his hands, and now you’d already slipped through his fingers. He didn’t like you per say, he just wanted you to admit you liked him. He wanted you to chase after his attention like everyone else did. But you were too concerned about your fucking shower to care.

But Ethan was determined to prove to his own ego that he would get you to like him. Even if your bratty attitude drove him up a wall. He’d get you to come around.

When you walked out and he was still there, you crossed your arms over your bare chest, not caring if he saw it now since he’d already seen it twice, just communicating your agitation through your body language.

“What?” you asked when he just stood there, quirking your brow.

“I don’t get a kiss goodbye?” he asked snarkily, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You didn’t get a kiss hello so why would I give you a kiss goodbye?” you asked, bristling at the idea of giving him something so affectionate.

“Come on, brat,” he coaxed, holding his arms open for you to walk into.

You debated for a moment, trying to consider whether entertaining this would be worth it. You really didn’t want to involve yourself with him more than you already had. But, his lips turned further up into his smirk, and he wiggled his brows in a way that made you almost laugh -- almost, but you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Fine, if it’ll get you out of my apartment.”

You walked into his arms, surprised at the gentle warmth you found there; though, you supposed, he was still human. Even if he was damn near intolerable. He wrapped them around your waist, pulling you to him in a way he hadn’t before. Sure, you’d known him less than 24 hours, but still -- it was different.

Kissing him now was different, too. It wasn’t desperate and needy, it was just -- a kiss. It lingered, his lips actually feeling pillowy soft against yours. Your hands rested against his still bare chest, and you had to admit, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing. After being handled so roughly, no matter how much you’d enjoyed it, it was nice to be touched gently.

To your dismay, he pulled away first. He looked at you for a second, just let his eyes dust over your features, and then he smirked at you again. “See you soon, brat,” he said, giving your ass a swift tap.

You rolled your eyes as he slipped his shirt on and grabbed his belt. “No, you won’t,” you said decisively. He’d been a good fuck, but god, did he piss you off.

“We’ll see,” he snorted, his ego radiating off of him so much it was almost tangible.

Finally, he walked out, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You didn’t like that he could affect you so easily. First, he’d turned you on, but then, that kiss… you couldn’t deny that you’d liked it.

When your front door shut, you decided that was enough for him to metaphorically have left your life for good. You let the idea shift around your brain, you were done with him.

But Ethan was not an easy man to ignore.

He texted you periodically throughout the week, teasing you about whether or not you missed him enough yet to literally crawl back to him, which you were always quick to shut down. You’d tried to simply ignore him, but he had a very particular talent of being able to enrage you even over the phone. You couldn’t resist texting him back sometimes. It was petty urge, you had to admit, but he made you petty.

You’d finally put him in your phone, simply as e. The things he usually texted you were annoying as hell. For example:

(e): miss screaming my name? (you): nope.

(e): hey (you): hi? (e): did you get your period yet? (you): yeah, the other day. don’t worry, i’m not pregnant with your child (e): hmm. i could feel extra bitchy vibes coming from you (you): shut up bitchass (e): see?

(e): hey (e): hey (e): hey brat (e): heeeeeeey brat (e): i bet you miss me (you): absolutely not. (e): good, you answered. wyd

To which, you always left him on read. You were not going to become his booty call. He would not be a regular, continuous fuck for you. It was good while it lasted, but the more you had to put up with him, the more stress would be added to your life.

Besides, you had better things to worry about. You had bills to pay and a minimum wage job to work. You really didn’t want to have to worry about the complications of a friends with benefits situation — if you’d even call it that. Friends seemed like an overstatement. No, you were done with him, and he was behind you.

You got ready for work, another shift at a diner near your apartment. You’d worked there for a little over a year, and while the customers were a pain in the ass and your feet were always killing you, you loved your coworkers. It was Friday night, so it was going to be busy, and probably a little chaotic — but it would make for great jokes and stories with your friends.

Your uniform was a little on the ridiculous side, and always got the attention of the men who you served. That’s what it was meant to do, you knew that, and it certainly earned you gracious tips, but that didn’t make it any less of an eyeroll.

A white, button down shirt that was required to be buttoned down to a certain point, tucked into a black, pleated skirt, and a black pair of flats or heels no taller than two inches. You almost always wore the flats, but tonight, well… rent was due soon. So you opted for the heels, knowing you would hate yourself for it later when your feet would be hanging on by a thread.

You drove to work, parking in your usual spot to find the restaurant already getting busy. You were anticipating an evening busy enough to make the time fly by. You walked inside the establishment, greeting your manager who was interacting with some guests, and moved into the back room. You were always assigned the same tables, some large and some small. You hoped a large family would come through and order enough food for an army, and hoped they knew how to tip. Those tips were usually pretty good.

As you’d suspected, time was whirring by you faster than you could really tell. An hour turned to two, which turned to four, and by then, your shift was half-way through. Your best friend, Alice, was working that shift with you. The two of you would snack together while you waited for different tables’ meals to come up, your eyes nervously darting around to watch for your manager.

“Oh shit, some hot guys just walked in,” she said, her interest piqued. You whipped your head around, and nearly paled. Of fucking course. Ethan.

Ethan, and a pack of his loud, boisterous friends, it seemed. You could make out familiar features on another one of the guys — that must be his brother, Grayson. He seemed to be all smiles and laughter.

Caught up in your annoyance and shock, Alice poked you in your side. “Hellooo, Earth to (Y/N)?”

“Hmm? Sorry,” you responded, turning your attention back to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, do you call dibs on any of them?”

“Oh, uh...” you looked back at the group, and a nervous feeling blossomed in your stomach. Should you claim him? The idea bounced around in your head. You weren’t supposed to be bothered by his presence anymore. You weren’t supposed to be affected by him. But the idea of watching Alice potentially flirt with him, and the idea of his attention being on someone other than you bothered you. And you wanted to punch yourself in the face for it.

“Um, yeah, the one with the brown hair and intense eyes,” you answered, looking back at her and hoping your tone didn’t give anything away.

She snorted, and you were afraid she caught you. “There are two of them,” she said, and you tried not to show your relief on your face.

“Oh, right,” you looked back. “The one that’s not smiling.”

And he wasn’t. In what you had assumed was a typical Ethan fashion, he looked pretty disinterested, just nodded along to whatever was being said and stuck close to his twin.

You noticed, with a bittersweet pang of your heart, that they were being seated at a table in your section. Your heart rate spiked, nerves settling over you. What would he say when he saw you? God, you could already hear his teasing now.

You told Alice you’d be right back, and in a daze, you walked over with some menus and a fake smile, ready to pretend not to know who Ethan was. But, Ethan seemed to have a different plan.

“(Y/N)! I didn’t know you worked here,” he greeted you with a taunting smile on his face, like he was challenging you. The two of you knew exactly what had been going on between you, if, you thought spitefully, there even was anything going on between you. Because there wasn’t.

You forced a wider, familiar smile onto your face. “Hi, Ethan, right?”

You were beyond tempted to call him the wrong name, so much so that the syllables seemed to hang off your tongue. But your mind was focused on your tip. You knew you’d get treated like shit if he’d ordered it, and you were scared he would. You had to play nice.

“That’s right, but I don’t think that’s what you called me last time I saw you.”

He was dangling it in your face. You felt your anger flare up, something that you were usually if not always able to control in your workplace. You were a waitress. You were always angry at someone. But no one could make you angry like Ethan could.

“Yeah, I probably called you an ass or something close enough,” you replied snarkily, moving to introduce yourself to the rest of the table while they snickered at your comment.

At least they seemed to have a sense of humor. Ethan watched you with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your outburst. He wondered how many of your buttons he could push without getting kicked out. But then, as he eyed your top, there weren’t many buttons to push at all. And that skirt… he wasn’t walking out of the diner without a promise to see you tonight.

You walked away to let the table look over the menus, walking back to Alice. She wiggled her eyebrows at you when you approached, a knowing smile toying on her lips. “So, he seems interested in you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You have no idea.”

She giggled, tapping you lightly on your behind as she walked away, assuming it was going well. You gathered up the drinks they’d ordered, expertly carrying them to the table. Once they were all served their drinks, you took out your notepad and pen to take their orders.

You went around the table, taking everyone’s orders. Surprisingly, Ethan didn’t make some snarky comment -- just ordered a burger without cheese and let you continue doing your job. Until, his friend…

“I’d like a piece of that ass,” he said suggestively, making your chest clench out of embarrassment. Before you could even say anything, Ethan’s hand was flying to the back of his friend’s head.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, anger present in his voice.

His friend only laughed, shaking his head, “Only joking, bro.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you responded coldly, waiting with clenched teeth to finish taking his order.

He put his hands up in defense, leaning back against the booth. “Whatever, I get it. Lemme just get--”

“Apologize,” Ethan cut him off.

He looked at Ethan in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me. Apologize.”

His friend looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was being reprimanded by his own friend. He was clearly the bros-before-hoes type. “Sorry,” he said with a hint of spite, barely able to look you in the eye. But it would do.

You looked at Ethan and mouthed your thanks to him, to which he nodded, his demeanor relaxed despite how angry he was feeling. You were his to taunt, to fuck with, to annoy… because he wouldn’t do it to embarrass you in front of everyone. He knew you were quick witted enough to respond to his comments without letting the truth show.

The rest of the evening seemed to go by just fine. There were no more problems from Ethan’s table, as he seemed to have shut down anyone’s desire to fuck with you. They finished their food, they left, and left a hell of a tip -- most likely on Ethan’s orders.

You were surprised to admit it, but you actually felt beyond thankful to him. You couldn’t stand up for yourself at work, so for him to help you like that meant more to you than you could express. You started closing up your tables and stations, ready to just be done for the night.

You said goodnight to your coworkers, clocked out, and headed out to your car. You were looking down into your purse, searching for your keys, when you were grabbed from behind. The only sound that left your mouth was a gasp before a hand covered your mouth. You struggled against your attackers grasp, only — your attacker was laughing.

He started to put you down, and you already knew. You knew it was Ethan. If his voice didn’t give it away, it was his actions. Your chest heaved, emotion consuming you — anger, rage, fear, and the tiniest twinge of relief that you were safe. What was worse was you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you were overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings.

“You fucking idiot!” you screamed at him, taking in a shaky breath, clenching your teeth and trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “That wasn’t funny!”

Out of anger, and slight embarrassment over your reaction to his stupid prank, you brought your hands down on his chest to hit him, trying to push him away from you. But he was quick to grab a hold of both your wrists, spinning you around in his grasp so you were wrapped up in his arms with your arms crossed over each other. His laughter slowly subsided, and you focused on breathing and absolutely not crying.

When his laughs finally died down, he brought his lips down to your ear and nibbled the shell of it, his breath tickling your cheek. He was ready to tease you about how funny your reaction was, but he heard you sniffle, which you’d desperately tried to hide.

“Hey,” he said, concern laced in his voice. He turned you around in his grasp, soft eyes roaming openly over your face. “You’re okay. I’m sorry.”

He sounded genuine, so you nodded, but couldn’t look up at him. You took a deep breath, one little tear rolling over your cheek. “You really scared me,” you admitted, feeling your stomach curl at how vulnerable you sounded.

You wanted to push him away from you, wanted to scream at him for being such an asshole, but you were still shaken. You were terrified of something like that actually happening to you. In spite of yourself, you leaned further into him, allowing his frame and strong body to provide you a false sense of security. He wrapped his arms tighter around you immediately, letting you gather yourself. He whispered another apology before mumbling more reassurances, and you felt your heart rate return to normal. Actually, not to normal -- slower than that. He was soothing you, as odd as it sounded in regards to Ethan as you’d known him.

Not for the first time, you were surprised to find you trusted him, especially in this moment where he was the only thing standing between you and potential danger. Even though he should be considered potential danger… his warm smell and firm hold on you didn’t allow you to be scared of him.

But before you could melt further into him, you started to push him away, forcing yourself to focus on being angry at him. “You should never do that to a girl. Actually, not to anyone,” you scolded, even though you knew he’d probably already figured that out.

And he told you as much. “I know, I get it. I’m sorry,” he said, but his face turned up in a smirk. “Thought you were tougher than that, brat.”

You scoffed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I cannot fucking believe you.”

“What? I said I was sorry,” he deadpanned, furrowing his brow at you and mimicking your stance.

“Well, I’m not really in the mood to joke around right now,” you snapped, turning around to walk away from him and head to your car.

“Don’t walk away from me, (Y/N),” Ethan said, his voice hard.

“Oh, look! He knows my name again,” you said over your shoulder, continuing your walk to your car.

“Would you stop being such a child?”

To which you responded childishly, “Are you gonna make me?”

It was enough for him to walk over to you in three long strides and grab you by your elbow. “Yeah, I am gonna make you. I’m gonna teach you a lesson, and you’re gonna beg me to do it.”

You were so ready to fight him; to push him away, tell him to fuck off, leave you the fuck alone. You were going to do it, but when you whipped around to meet his eyes you were instantly frozen. His gaze was hard -- dominant. You could see the rage and lust swirling around his irises, and your body reacted almost immediately. You felt yourself nearly tremble when his other hand cupped your cheek softly, his sudden gentleness surprising you and piquing your curiosity. He just stared at you, his eyes locked on yours with that intense look still in them. He was waiting, you realized, for you to answer him.

You took in a shaky breath, worried you wouldn’t be able to find your voice to answer him. You tried to compose yourself, and replied as evenly as you could, “Like hell you’ll make me beg for it.”

His eyes seemed to darken even more, his grip on your arm tightening briefly. “Keys,” he said simply, his other hand opening expectantly, his palm facing you.

“No, it’s my—“

“Keys,” he repeated, more sternly now.

You rolled your eyes, an action that would surely worsen your punishment later, and handed over your keys. He opened your door for you, slamming it shut behind him. He walked over to the driver’s side of your car, got in, and started driving in the direction of your apartment.

He parked near your house and didn’t bother giving you your keys back. He knew which apartment was yours and which key on the ring opened its door. He didn’t even wait for you as he strode to your front door, leaving you to nearly jog to catch up to him.

When he got to your door, he opened it and waited for you, standing outside with his arms crossed. You timidly approached him, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt. He glared at you while he waited for you to hurry up, his impatience only growing.

When you finally crossed the threshold of your apartment, you were pushed to the ground and landed on your hands and knees — hard. You’d definitely have bruises on your knees tomorrow.

You stayed in your position on the floor, knowing you’d probably already pissed him off enough — resisting now would just be an invitation for brutality. He stalked up to you, his steps slow and calculated. Once he was parallel to your head, he reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You were going to stand, but his foot stopped you, keeping you on the ground.

He started walking towards your bedroom, keeping his grip on your hair, and made you crawl next to him. Your knees were now on the verge of aching, and he knew they would be. He had every intention of keeping you on them until you begged to be off them.

When he got to your bedroom, he had you sit up on your knees and wait for him to take off his pants. He allowed them to drop to his ankles, leaving his boxers on. He looked at you expectantly, and you got to work.

You leaned forward, allowing your mouth to cover his hardening cock through his underwear. You let your tongue dampen the material while you sucked on it gently, focusing on getting him completely hard.

He pulled you back by your hair, looking down at you with those mesmerizing eyes. “No teasing. This is your only warning.”

You nodded, biting your lip, and he let your hair go so you could continue. You looped your fingers into the top of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing him from their confines. Once you pulled them down to his ankles, you grasped his length in your hand, seeing just how big he was for the first time. You hadn’t had time to admire him before this point.

Before he could get mad, you covered the tip with your mouth, starting slow bobs of your head up and down his shaft. His hands came to your hair and pushed it out of your face so he could see you better. He loved the way his cock looked going in and out of your mouth, and when your eyes flicked up to meet his gaze — fuck, he almost wanted to forget about punishing you.

Almost.

As you continued, your saliva started to accumulate, and little trails of it started running down your chin, dripping onto your chest. The sight was captivating to him, and the messy way you were taking him was driving him wild. He started to thrust shallowly into your mouth in time with the movements of your head, making you take him a little farther back than you already were.

The feeling was great for both of you, especially him. But words couldn’t describe the pleasure you felt when he let out a deep moan and cursed under his breath. “So good,” he praised softly, making your eyes nearly flutter shut.

However, as much as you were enjoying pleasuring him, your knees were starting to ache. You started to shift your weight around, and Ethan took notice to it. He smirked down at you, watching you squirm exactly as he intended you to.

“Uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice falsely soft.

You nodded, pulling off him to start to stand up. But he was quick to keep you in place with his hand, his eyes trained on you in amusement. You looked up at him in confusion, and he simply smiled down at you.

“Good. Stay there until I tell you to get up.”

You glared at him, but took his dick into your hand again and brought him back into your mouth. You focused on the task at hand, trying to please him in any way you could to get him to ease the torture he imposed on your knees.

“Why can’t you always be this good for me?” he murmured, his hand coming to caress your cheek.

You pulled off him with a pop, allowing your tongue to tease him before answering. “Then I wouldn’t be your brat, would I?”

He chuckled, and you knew you’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. At the same time, you felt it was the truth. Not just a half truth spoken in the heat of the moment. He grabbed you by your chin, leading you up towards him and off your sore knees. You hissed at the feeling of standing now, and he was quick to ease your pain, holding you close to him so you didn’t have to rely on your body to hold yourself up.

He kissed you hotly, that passion back in the way he kissed you. It was all desperation and fire, sending wetness pooling between your legs. He lifted you off the ground, carrying you alarmingly effortlessly to your bed. He pushed his pants and underwear off his body completely before climbing over you.

You hooked your thumbs into your skirt to pull it down, but your hands were smacked away. Ethan crawled over your body, wrapping a hand around your throat while his other hand worked on the buttons of your top.

“I had to watch you walk around in this little outfit all fucking night. I had to watch other guys, even my own friends, admire how fucking hot you are. I’m gonna fuck you in this outfit, so every time you wear it to work, you’ll think about how good it felt to have me inside you,” he growled, his hand pushing the material of your shirt apart so your breasts were exposed to him, still in your plain bra.

You were panting under him, squirming under his heavy gaze and from his words. Your hips bucked towards his, and he responded by slapping your thigh and pushing your hips down. He glared at you, and it communicated that he was in control. You were not allowed to so much as respond to his touch. No matter how much he teased and baited you, you were supposed to sit there and take it.

You whined, a pout and furrowed brows decorating your features. He was quick to bring his other hand up to smack you, then he pushed his fingers passed your lips, making you suck on them. He leveled his gaze with yours, his stare intense.

“Keep pushing me, you’ll regret it,” he warned, the patience leaving his eyes. To his dismay, you giggled, swirling your tongue around his fingers.

He brought his other hand to your throat, tightening his grip again. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your already soaked pussy, not needing the lubrication. He shoved them both inside you, making you squeak. He seemed satisfied with your reaction, curling his fingers while the hand around your throat tightened again. When your eyebrows knitted together and you let out a mewling moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He didn’t bother to build your pleasure to deny you orgasm, he just removed his fingers all together and enjoyed the whine of annoyance you let out. He brought his fingers back up to your mouth, making you suck on them. He kept the hand around your throat loose — a simple reminder that, at any moment, he could have you begging and writhing beneath him if he wanted.

“Hands and knees again,” he ordered, and you were at least thankful it was on the bed this time instead of on your hardwood floor -- you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take it.

It seemed he’d decided that he’d wanted you begging and writhing, though, because his hand met the soft skin of your ass as soon as you were in position. And if you thought your knees hurt, you had no idea what storm was coming to you now.

The first slap hadn’t been so bad. But smack after smack, he kept going, never seeming to get enough of the way you screamed in response, or the way your ass rippled every time his hand made contact. You were absolutely positive you would be so bruised tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to sit.

“Please, it hurts,” you gasped out, hands clutching your blankets as you braced yourself for more impact.

He delivered one last whack, chuckling out, “Good.”

You whimpered again, the whiny sound coming from the back of your throat, falling over on your side once he stopped. You caught your breath while he smoothed his hands gently over your skin, admiring how bright and red it was. It was incredible -- you already looked so fucked out, and he hadn’t even begun with you.

He laid beside you, curling up to you and grabbing your leg under your knee. He brought it up so your cunt was exposed to him, bringing your hand up to keep your leg in position while he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls wrapped around him again, his teeth biting into your shoulder where his moans were muffled. He started to rock his hips back and forth, rolling them into yours to create a beautiful friction. His hand trailed down your side and balled itself up in your skirt, pulling you even closer to him as he started to pound faster.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, kissing and biting your shoulder. “Missed this tight pussy.”

You could only throw your head back in response, your walls clamping down on his cock the way you knew he liked. You weren’t disappointed with his reaction; he groaned in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment before continuing to plow into you. You felt a little smirk form on your face, knowing you could do that to him.

A moment later, he was grabbing your face and turning it so he could kiss you sloppily, a mewl of pleasure slipping between your mouths. He kissed you deeply, never easing the pace of his hard thrusts, and didn’t pull away until you needed to breathe. And even then, his lips rested against yours while you panted heavily.

The hand that had balled itself into your skirt was trailing back up your side, his fingers dancing over your breasts briefly before his hand settled, again, onto your neck. He applied a light pressure, but you knew this wasn’t punishment; this was possession. His eyes bored into yours and all you could feel was excitement coursing through your veins -- no, that was your orgasm building.

One of your hands flew over his, your mouth opening into an O shape. “Ethan,” you moaned, your fingers squeezing his as your orgasm crept over you.

“Let go,” he said, his hand quickly moving back down to your clit where he applied pressure, pushing you over the edge.

You came, hard, all over his cock. He felt the pulsing beat of your cunt all over his shaft, the flutters and spasms of your walls making him bite your shoulder once again. He held himself back from cumming, pulling out of you once he felt your body relax again.

“Suck me off,” he said, laying back against your pillows.

You were eager to please him after he made you cum like that, so you crawled between his legs without hesitation, taking him far back into your throat as soon as you took him into your mouth. There wasn’t any reason to tease him now, not after he treated you so well.

He moaned just loud enough for you to hear him, and the sound made your pussy ache again. You wanted to hear more of it, so you pushed yourself to take him even further. You felt him in your throat, and you gagged around him, earning an even louder moan from him. You were going to keep going, let him fuck and use your throat, but he had another idea.

“Get up here,” he ordered, his lids heavy as he watched you.

You popped off him, his cock slapping up against his stomach. You crawled over him, situating your thighs on either side of his face. “Turn around,” he said.

Your heart jumped in your chest as you followed his instruction, your ass and cunt in full view for his greedy eyes. You lowered your body down to take him back into your mouth, and for the first time, his lips met your pussy. He moaned at the taste, his hands coming up to wrap around your legs to pull you even closer to him. You could barely focus on sucking his dick from the pleasure he was giving you. He was quick to tap you lightly on your thigh to snap you out of your trance, though.

His lips latched around you, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this sooner. You were a delicious mixture of salty and sweet; he might even say it was addicting. He let his tongue explore your folds, and each time he moved his head to explore more, you could feel the scruff of the facial hair that was just starting to grow in. It felt like such a sweet burn against your skin, and subconsciously your thighs closed tighter around his face to feel more of it.

You were driving him just as crazy. He was thrusting softly into your mouth on the same tempo you were moving your neck, your throat relaxing in response. You were pulling off him to moan every few seconds, jerking him in your hand. You rolled your tongue over the vein of the underside of his cock, and each time he would twitch in response.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and with each flick of Ethan’s tongue, you were pushed closer to your second one. You felt his tongue trail up to your entrance, and then… beyond. Though you were unaccustomed to the feeling, you couldn’t help but moan in response. The sound only encouraged him to continue his exploration, and moments later, his tongue was trailing back to your clit and you felt two fingers; one at each of your holes.

You were shocked at how much you wanted him to fuck both of your holes with his fingers. You whined and popped off him briefly to beg him for it. “Please, daddy.”

You could feel a cocky smirk against your skin as he continued to happily lap at your folds, his fingers pushing into you. They entered you slowly enough that you could adjust to them, but it didn’t take him long before he started moving his fingers in a alternating rhythm with quick flicks of his wrist. He kept a steady pace, and you could feel your oragsm about to hit you.

“I need more,” you said. You gasped as you felt another finger being added to both holes, your mouth hanging open as the warm, familiar feeling spread over your lower abdomen and cunt. Before you knew it, you were cumming again, and with the added pleasure of four of his fingers, you squirted all over his mouth, neck, and chest.

“Fuck,” you panted as the shocks of pleasure subsided.

“My turn, brat,” he said, tapping your leg to signal you to get off.

You climbed off of him, landing on your back and taking several deep breaths. Ethan stood up and walked to the side of your bed that your head was closest to. Once he was at the edge, he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you towards him. He moved his hand to grip your cheeks between his fingers, ensuring he had your full attention.

“Ever been facefucked?”

“No,” you answered, shaking your head in response as well.

“I think you can handle it. If you need me to stop, just snap your fingers,” he told you, waiting for you to agree. Once you nodded, he let go of your face and brought his cock to your lips.

You opened your mouth for him to enter, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you prepared yourself for what it might feel like. Ethan slid himself in slowly, and once he reached your throat, he went even slower. He seemed to be testing your gag reflex; lucky for him, you were pretty good at relaxing your throat. He was able to get a decent stroke in before you gagged, a satisfied groan bubbling up from his throat.

He started to thrust at a steady rhythm, still slow to start with, though, to make sure you were handling it well. His moans started to increase in volume and occurrence, and the sound was being sent straight to your pussy. You could feel yourself start to throb in response, even though you’d already cum twice, you were still craving so much more.

You brought a hand to the meeting of your thighs, your fingers trailing along the soaked lips of your pussy, a tiny moan escaping you. Your middle finger pressed against the tiny bundle of nerves, moving in circular motions. Ethan noticed you were touching yourself, and the sight had his eyes rolling back.

Each time he pulled away to let you breathe, you were spitting out all the accumulated saliva in your mouth, which trailed down your face. The action itself was turning you on, and Ethan fucking your tight little throat was only edging you further. You especially felt yourself throb when he started to growl out praises.

“Fuck, I love fucking your throat. Such a good brat,” he said.

The praises were nice, but when he pulled away to admire your saliva-covered face and said, “What a pretty little slut you are,” it was enough to push you over the line again.

Ethan could tell you were about to cum from the way you arched into your own touch, and he could practically feel his cock stiffen even more. He slipped himself back into your mouth, watching you get yourself off with his jaw slack. He started to thrust even faster into your throat, and you forced yourself to take it, and finally, you felt yourself cumming for a third time.

Ethan got to watch as you squirted this time, and he felt the vibrations of your moans on his cock. The sight and the feeling brought him such an intense pleasure that he felt himself cumming. He pulled out of your mouth, allowing his cum to drip down your face and mix with your spit.

At this point, you were covered in your own spit, his cum, and your lower body was twitching with pleasure. You thought Ethan would never be able to top the last time the two of you had sex, but clearly, you were wrong. To your surprise, Ethan went into your bathroom and brought you some tissues to clean up the majority of the mess on your face.

You sat up to take it, but he held it from you for a minute. “Hold on,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over the damage he’d done.

A smirk spread over his face slowly as he looked at you, a tiny chuckle leaving his mouth. “Beautiful,” he said, finally giving you the tissue. You shook your head at him, but you felt your cheeks warm nevertheless.

You wiped what you could off, then stood and walked to your bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” you said, watching as Ethan nodded and checked his phone. You figured he would be gone by the time you got out.

You undressed from your tousselled clothes, looking at your face in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared everywhere, there was still quite a bit of saliva and cum all over it, and you looked absolutely destroyed in the best way possible. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you assessed the state of yourself, turning happily to get into the shower.

Once you were done in the shower, you stepped out, dried off, and went into your room to change into your pajamas. You were expecting Ethan to be gone, so seeing him passed out, under your covers, curled around one of your pillows was a bit of a shock. You stood still for a moment, considering your options. You could wake him up and tell him to leave, but…

Well, he looked comfortable. And your bed was big enough to fit the both of you, so what did it really matter? He would only be staying the night. You were sure he’d be gone before you even woke up. So, you dressed for bed and got under the covers next to him; it felt foreign to be sleeping beside someone again, but you were pretty tired from work and the night’s events, so you drifted off to sleep easily.

To your dismay, Ethan was still beside you when you woke up. You weren’t annoyed, but you were a little nervous. You didn’t know how he would act when he woke up; if there would be awkward conversation, if he would want breakfast, if he would insist on hanging around, if you wanted him to hang around. There were so many ways your morning could go, and not knowing was leaving you on edge.

You were distracted from your thoughts by movements from Ethan beside you. Your eyes drifted over to him, preparing yourself for however he would greet you, but you found he wasn’t awake yet. He was just turning in his sleep, his face now level with yours.

You’d never truly gotten a good look at this man until now. You were always too busy being pissed at him or you were bent over for him; so you hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. You let your eyes dance over his face, taking in each of his features at a time.

You noticed how soft and fluffy his hair looked. It was clear he took care of it. His forehead was accentuated by bold eyebrows and defined bone structure that seemed to span across the rest of his face. Though his eyes were closed, you could see how his eyes were slightly downturned -- which probably explained how he was able to win you over with just a look. Plus, his eyelashes were long and dark, spread out so gorgeously. His nose was round and soft looking, sort of buttonish. For lack of better term, it was cute -- which felt like a weird word to describe any part of the man who fucked you into your mattress.

Below his nose were a pair of the softest looking lips you’d ever seen on a man. They were so plump and pink, looking extremely kissable. Surrounding those lips was a growing beard, which looked scruffy and made his strong jaw even more attractive. He had a tiny birthmark on his right cheek, too.

Your eyes kept going back to his lips, focused on how plush and plump they looked. They looked so velvety, and you couldn’t resist your urge to reach out and touch them. You brought your thumb to his lips and ran it along them, and they were just as soft as they appeared. You held your thumb there for a moment, and you were surprised by his lips puckering on it.

You looked back to his eyes out of shock, only to find them lazily open and already on your face. A soft smile formed on his face, and you felt your whole face warm. He stretched, so you let your hand fall away from his mouth. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, finally opening them again to let them settle on you.

“Like something you see?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Shut up,” you laughed, shaking your head at him before starting to sit up.

He made a sound of disapproval, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you towards him. He spooned you from behind, your back pressed against his bare chest. You tensed up, but as his arms settled around you in a warm cuddle, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. You craned your neck up to look at him, and he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your forehead.

You chuckled at the action, mostly out of disbelief. “Who knew you were such a softie in the mornings?”

“I’m not soft,” he scoffed, but his arms stayed wrapped around you, and his eyes told a different story.

You just hummed, settling into his hold even more. “What made you stay last night?” you asked curiously.

“I was pretty tired,” he said, and as if on queue, he yawned.

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, and it was actually nice to just lay with him. Once again, he was surprising you, and you were starting to think there was a lot more to him than whatever front he put up.

Even if he wanted to deny feeling soft for the moment, you were certain that you were feeling soft, so you turned in his arms to meet his eyes again. You were so captivated by the color of them; not one color, but a few. The sunlight that filtered through your blinds landed on his face and made them brighter, and you caught yourself staring. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He was staring right back at you.

You bit your lip in contemplation, wanting to kiss him but also afraid to make this moment any more intimate than it already was. Though, you figured you were already here, might as well do this while you’re at it.

You adjusted yourself in his grip so you were able to reach his lips, leaned forward, and pressed your lips against his. Much to your pleasure, he was as gentle as you were. Neither of you were in any rush to get this out. You both seemed to have the same thoughts in mind, even if neither of you wanted to admit anything out loud.

You brought your hands up to his hair, and found it to be as soft as you’d assumed it was. Your fingers threaded themselves through the strands and just played with them instead of pulling or tugging. From the way his grip on your waist tightened, you could tell he was enjoying it.

Your lips moved together lazily, and your bodies kept the same pace. Though you were getting closer to each other, it was slow -- gradual. Your legs tangled with his, his hands lifted your pajama top and played with the skin on your hips; each touch was gentle and deliberate.

His hand slipped down to your thigh, then continued on to wrap around your leg and hike it up over his hip. He shifted to free himself from his boxers, and since you’d only worn panties to sleep, he slipped them to the side and put himself at your entrance.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice still gravelly.

You nodded and hummed, preparing for the way he stretched you out. Once he pushed in, you both let out breathy moans, your lips meeting again to bask in the pleasure. He bottomed out, then stayed still for a brief moment. He let his hand fall to your hip again, gripping the skin as he enjoyed how much tighter you felt in this position.

He started to move, your breath coming out in little pants as he rolled his hips into yours. You started to meet his thrusts by shifting your hips forward, making him go even deeper. At this pace and angle, you could feel how big he was with every motion; the ridges and veins of his cock giving you more pleasure than before.

The pleasure was just as intense for Ethan, too. The tightness of your warm walls and the way you were clutching onto him, trying to bring him closer, was driving him insane. So much so that he felt his orgasm coming on before he wanted it to.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his grip on you tightening even more. “I’m cumming.”

You moaned as you felt his hot cum inside you again, every twitch of his cock bringing you another wave of pleasure. You closed your eyes and let your nails trail over his skin, honestly ready to fall back to sleep for a few more hours.

“You didn’t cum, did you?” he sighed, looking disappointed in himself.

“No, but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine, lay back.”

“What are you-”

“Just lay back for me,” he ordered, removing his arms from around you.

You reluctantly left his warm embrace to lay on your back, and he settled himself between your legs, his mouth level with your cunt. “Open your mouth,” he said.

You opened your mouth, waiting to see what he was going to do. He stuck his tongue out and leaned his head forward, licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, making you moan. He sat up on his knees, his own cum gathered up on his tongue, and crawled up your body to spit it in your mouth. You swallowed it happily, the action alone enough to make your clit throb. The taste of your combined juices drove you insane, and you pulled him back to your mouth for more of the taste, bringing his tongue into your mouth to savor it.

He went back down and repeated the action, bringing his cum up to your mouth until almost all of it was out of you. When he wasn’t able to get any more from you, he stayed down at your pussy and focused on eating you out. Your back was arched into his grip, his tongue working like magic on your clit and between your folds. He alternated between licking you, sucking you, and fucking you with his tongue, which was enough to have you mewling with pleasure and coming undone at his touch.

It was when he shook his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against your clit that you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your head tipped back, your fingers gripping his hair and your hips grinding on his mouth. He pulled you even tighter to him, wanting to draw out your high for as long as he could. He stayed there, kitten-licking you until your body relaxed and he knew you were spent.

He crawled over you again, letting his body cover yours as he leaned down to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his lips was an added bonus to the tender touch of his kiss, and when you felt his erection against your thigh, you giggled.

“Round two?” you asked, moving your legs to try to wrap them around him.

He laughed in return, but sighed. “I wish I could, but I gotta get back before Gray gets annoyed. I have plans with him today.”

You were disappointed, but nodded your head in understanding, letting your legs relax.

He smirked at you, kissing you once more before standing. He got dressed while you laid in your sheets, just watching him. It still felt strange how different he was this morning, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Still, you were curious.

“What was with the change of pace?” you asked, making him look up from his task of getting his belt in the loops.

He shrugged, seeming to think it over in his mind before answering. “Maybe I was a little soft,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but why?”

He shrugged again, this time not looking up from his task. “I can be real nice when you aren’t pissing me off,” he smirked, finally getting it through the loops and looking back at you.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, slipping your panties back on and grabbing a pair of shorts to wear around the house. He chuckled again, pulling his shirt over his head. “There’s my brat,” he said affectionately, and although there was sarcasm in his statement, it didn’t fail to make you feel special. You sort of liked the title.

He checked his hair in your mirror and seemed to decide he was happy with his appearance. He turned to you an opened his arms wide, a small smile decorating his face. You smiled back, walking into his embrace and letting him kiss you goodbye.

“Try not to ignore my texts this time around,” he said, winking at you as he left your bedroom.

“We’ll see,” you teased, but in reality, you knew you wouldn’t be.

You felt like there was a whole side to Ethan that was only just emerging, and you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t like it. He was growing on you -- dominance, cockiness, rudeness, and all the rest. Even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud yet.

Even as Ethan left your apartment to head back to his place, he knew he wouldn’t be letting you slip between his fingers. You may have gotten under his skin, but you seemed to fit there. And it seemed that he could fuck the attitude out of you, which he was starting to love doing. You were his little brat, and he didn’t have any plans to let that go any time soon.

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan x reader #the dolan twins #dolan twins #i hope u all enjoy this :) either again or for the first time

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likelightningafterthethunder · 3 years

Text

Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter Three: Message from the Shadows

Fic Summary:

His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.

It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.

As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.

–

Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.

He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.

Rating: T

Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma

Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence

Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below

Previous Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr

–

As the reunion approached, it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend that everything was fine.

Katsuki had been added back to the group text with Eijirou, Mina, and Hanta; he wasn’t sure if Eijirou had told them or if they had figured it out on their own, but almost all of the pictures sent after he was added back in lacked a certain pair of amber eyes. He appreciated their attempt to make things less stressful for him, but it just made him think about how the rest of the class might not share the same sentiment and that there was a non-zero chance of having to see those eyes― or worse, that damned smile― during the reunion. He didn’t say anything about it, of course, but the idea of suddenly canceling and saying he was sick was looking more and more tempting.

Ochako and Katsuki had met up a few more times at Takeshi’s, but to Katsuki’s frustration, their sparring sessions seemed to do little to help prevent his mind from wandering off to that damned smile and digging its claws in. The most recent session, his guard had slipped enough that Ochako even dared to repeat his own words against him, even if the threat of him wasting her time was empty. Despite that, she still didn’t ask what was keeping him up at night, a small blessing Katsuki was thankful for.

Work was the one aspect of his life where he had a bit of normalcy, and no one could ask about the telltale sign of sleepless nights when his mask was on to hide them. He didn’t interact with anyone else at the agency often enough for them to note any potential changes in his behavior caused by the recent hauntings and there certainly wasn’t enough time for his mind to wander off in the middle of a battle with higher stakes than an ongoing scoreboard and bragging rights. His work didn’t suffer so he was certain that he would be able to get through this… thing, without anyone at work noticing, and if he was lucky, maybe the big red bow his mind needed to finally tie the memory up and shelve it away was the upcoming reunion and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone noticing, period.

Except his boss knew about what happened too.

It was hard for her not to know. Shion had been there that day, and while she hadn’t arrived early enough to stop Katsuki’s anger from kicking in, she had definitely seen the toll the fight had taken on the surrounding area. She had definitely seen the still smoking singes of clothing, seen the furniture and paperwork that were strewn across the room, heard the cackling of flames, of his palms, of the remnant electricity in the air, seen the―

Katsuki inhaled sharply, shaking the memory from his mind.

He’d like to assume that the main reason why Shion offered him a position at her agency was his hard work both at UA and on the field. He’d like to say that maybe it was because she saw a similarity between his explosive fighting style and her own, or maybe she noticed the quick calculations hidden behind seemingly impulsive actions. Hell, Katsuki would even be willing to say that she found some sort of sick twisted pleasure in watching his fuse burn.

Still, he couldn’t shake the idea that maybe it was out of pity.

That maybe all she saw when she looked at him was the teenage boy from that day ten years ago. That maybe he was some sort of passion project, an attempt to see if she could “fix” him. That maybe she thought that one day, Katsuki might break, and that it was best if she was nearby to take care of it.

That maybe, just maybe, Katsuki was stuck standing in that damned shadow.

Katsuki could normally easily avoid Shion asking him about his life outside of work. She only ever seemed interested in forcing him into having a life outside of work, but always left the details of what that entailed up to him and rarely pried past ensuring that Katsuki hadn’t secretly been doing paperwork or something when he was supposed to have the day off. She seemed to do the same to everyone else who worked at the agency though, so there was very little room to complain― though that didn’t stop him from taking every inch he got when he found the chance. (Not that it seemed to stop her either, especially when everyone else was more than happy to talk about their personal lives.)

But, between her knowing about Katsuki’s past and about the upcoming reunion, Katsuki was not surprised when Shion started being curious about his personal life “out of nowhere.” She asked if the reunion had some sort of plus one system and if so, if there was a lucky person Katsuki would be taking with him to formally introduce them to his former classmates; if there was a lucky person, how come she didn’t know of them yet; if Katsuki would introduce her to them so that she could get them on “Team Make Katsuki Bakugou Take a Vacation”; maybe if he took a vacation there would actually be a lucky someone; and a seemingly endless list of other questions every single time he saw Shion, even if it was in passing and there was no time to respond to it before they were out of earshot from each other.

He knew the worst of it was coming when he saw that he was scheduled to patrol with her in the afternoon. She left him alone during the morning― a small but welcomed blessing― and unlike every other time they had been scheduled to patrol together, she wasn’t waiting for him after his lunch break either. Katsuki wondered if maybe she was trying to give him space before she brought up the inevitable, or if maybe he had misread the schedule and he was going on patrol alone.

When he saw her in the agency lobby, standing at his approach, he held back a curse.

The walk exiting the building was uncharacteristically quiet, the only noises between them being the sound of Katsuki’s footsteps and Shion’s skates. Katsuki wasn’t sure what he dreaded more― the idea of a silent Shion for the entirety of patrol or the fact that when she did start speaking, it would immediately be about his personal life.

Thankfully (or not?) after a failed attempt at getting Katsuki to let her hook onto his arm and make him do the “hard work” of walking (“Fuck off, you’ve got legs,” “You walk too fast, I should be saving my energy for fighting villains, not trying to keep up with your rocket legs,” “Sucks to be you then,”), Shion started talking. It started off normally enough― Shion mentioned some workplace gossip that Katsuki didn’t particularly care about, some information about a new sponsor that was supposed to reach out later that week, how her roller derby match had gone the past weekend― but even though he was expecting something different, it didn’t prepare him for what she said next.

“The Commission’s looking into the Acolyte.”

Katsuki stopped in his tracks, Shion rolling to a stop a few feet ahead of him. Katsuki felt his throat tighten, like there was something trying to suffocate him from the inside out, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back something between a laugh of desperation and a scream of frustration.

The Acolyte. The fucking Acolyte.

For once, Shion didn’t speak. Katsuki wished she would, even if it was an insult, even if she picked away at his shell and attacked the part of him that was still just a scared, lost teenage boy that was in over his head, anything so he didn’t have to deal with the deafening silence. Anything to jump in and distract him from the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts rushing at him, to redirect his thoughts away from the dark corner of his memory, to keep him here, in that moment, in reality.

He let out a shaky exhale as he forced the uneasy feeling back down, trying to shake it off. “Thought the Acolyte was taken care of.”

“I thought so too,” Shion paused, giving Katsuki a look over that he knew could see right through him. He forced himself to hold his resolve, waiting for her to continue. “Rumor is that someone on the outside has been in contact with Mother and is trying to prepare for her return. Recruit new members, spread their message, and find someone called the Son,”

Katsuki scoffed. “The bastards at the prison aren’t doing their job if the bitch managed to make contact with the outside,”

Shion laughed, moving closer to give him a playful slap on the arm, “I knew you’d see it my way. That’s what I said at the Commission meeting― well, in a more poetic way, of course. Those Commission workers wanted none of it though, even though it’s obvious that heroes aren’t to blame for this particular mess up. Now, come on, let’s keep walking while we talk,”

He hesitated briefly, brows furrowed as Shion started to skate ahead. Were they really going to continue patrol while talking about something like this? “Shouldn’t we be discussing this back at the agency?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Shion waved a hand dismissively as Katsuki caught up to her, ignoring the glare sent her way at her phrasing. “Besides, the agency is full of gossips,”

“You’re the biggest gossip there.”

“How do you think I know?” She gave Katsuki a wink and a nudge in his side, laughing when it was met with a scowl. “It’s fine. That was the most confidential part of the conversation I had to tell you.”

“Why did you tell me, anyway?”

Shion looked up at him, amused. “I’ve been asked to help find someone for their task force. You’re on the short list, Katsuki. Well, correction, you are the short list. Though, you do have the right to decline, in which case you and Hibiki will be in charge of keeping the agency in one piece whenever the Commission drags me away. Or, you know, as close to one piece as possible, so our public relations people don’t try to have our heads on a platter.” If she noticed the hesitance in Katsuki’s face, she didn’t comment on it. “You don’t have to give me your answer now. In fact, I encourage you to take your time― since the Commission’s being so rude about who’s to blame for this whole ordeal, I say we let them wait a few days before I tell them which one of us will be working with them. They have other things to do while they wait for my decision anyway― like actually finding the prison leak and getting information that heroes can actually act on, instead of acting like we’re all Divine Prophet and can find people in the blink of an eye. You know, kind of surprising that they haven’t dragged Divine Prophet into this yet either actually. They weren’t at the meeting and no one mentioned them, so I guess they’re busy doing something else for the Commission or something.”

Katsuki let her ramble on for a while longer, thinking back to the Acolyte. He had hoped he had heard the last of them, years ago when a raid on an Acolyte base resulted in Mother’s capture and the destruction of their intel. Some members had died but enough had lived and been captured that through the combined work of the police force, heroes, and the Commission, every Acolyte member had been imprisoned.

Almost, Katsuki corrected. Someone must’ve slipped past and hid until they could get a message to Mother. He could only hope that the leak had been found early enough before Mother could weave another web of misery.

Even if the Acolyte hadn’t gotten the chance to rebuild itself back up, helping take it back down would be a pretty important achievement to put on Katsuki’s hero resume. The original downfall of the Acolyte and capture of their information had resulted in the downfall of several smaller villain groups and prevented some large scale villain attacks from occurring, so while it was unlikely that whatever the Commission wanted the task force to do would be flashy and public, it was also likely the Commission would take the potential damage prevented into account when calculating the next Billboards rankings.

Yet…

Katsuki was dragged out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm, his hand already gripped tight around Shion’s wrist before he realized it was her and let go.

She smiled softly, giving Katsuki a moment to reorient himself. “Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to say yes, but I know you’re the right man for the job.”

“Of fucking course I am,”

“Glad to know that you know. Anyway, let’s talk about that reunion of yours! You never did answer me about if you were bringing a special someone.”

Katsuki groaned.

Katsuki was half considering taking the last week before the reunion off just to avoid Shion’s questions by the time he finally made it back home. While the questions about the reunion had helped keep his mind off of the Acolyte shit, it took maybe half an hour before Katsuki was wishing they were talking about the Acolyte instead. There was only so long that Katsuki could deal with questions about his supposed love life (both present day and anything that might have happened back in high school) and the type of clothes he planned on wearing to show off his “post graduation glow up”, whatever the fuck that meant.

He cursed under his breath when his phone started going off while he was preparing dinner, not really feeling like talking to anyone. He let it keep ringing, focusing on chopping the vegetables instead and sighing in relief when the ringing finally stopped― until it started back up. He ignored it one more time, only giving in and checking his phone after he heard a few text ringtones.

Shitty Hair

Missed Call (2)

Well shit. Probably shouldn’t ignore him if it was important enough to call instead of text.

Shitty Hair: Katsuki!!!

Shitty Hair: Are you free bro??

Shitty Hair: I need your help for this project

Shitty Hair: I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong and I don’t know how to put it into words so I can ask the internet

Katsuki: If you can’t put it into words, how the fuck am I supposed to help?

Katsuki: I’m cooking right now but I’m free otherwise.

Shitty Hair: Can you video call??? I’ll just show it to you

Katsuki: Sure.

Katsuki propped his phone up on the counter, making sure that it wouldn’t get in the way of his cooking and that he’d still be in frame when the call connected. He scowled a little when the call connected and the only thing he could see was Eijirou’s eyes and forehead.

“Back the fuck up from the camera, Shitty Hair, I can’t see anything. Unless you’re calling to see if there’s an eyelash in your eye, then the answer is no.”

“Just give me a sec! I dropped my phone while it was ringing.” Katsuki waited as Eijirou readjusted himself and propped the phone up. “Okay, it’s not great, but ta-da! Not bad for an amateur, huh?”

“Are you knitting?”

“Yeah!” Eijirou grinned brightly. “There’s this group near my work that’s doing like, an auction of knitted and crocheted and other handmade things for charity, and I asked if I could try making some stuff for the auction. I’m not great at it but I figure some people would love to buy something that a hero made, and the money’s going to a good cause, so why not? And I thought, maybe I could knit on the train over to Musutafu, except it’s doing this twisty thing around my needles and I don’t know why, and I need to know what’s going wrong so I know if I have to buy new yarn before the reunion or if this is salvageable,”

Katsuki paused. “What makes you think I know what the fuck is going on with your knitting?”

“Dude, I know you’re the one who knits all of the knitted gifts you’ve given me, Mina, and Hanta. I figured it out years ago.”

“And you didn’t think of telling me that you knew?”

Eijirou shrugged. “You never said it yourself so I figured you were just waiting for the right moment to tell us or something,”

Katsuki huffed and shrugged it off. Eijirou wasn’t completely wrong, after all. “It’s salvageable. Look up ‘frogging’ to undo everything. Make sure the row’s straight on the needle before you start and that you’re not accidentally holding it in a way that makes it twist on the needle either.”

“Cool, cool. And what about these random holes, like this one?”

“Probably wrapped the yarn an extra time before you made a new stitch. Count your stitches, I bet you’ve got more than you started off with.”

“Thanks Kats! Mind if we stay on the call while I try to figure out this whole knitting thing?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Eijirou laughed and started talking about his day while he worked on his knitting, stopping here and there to ask Katsuki to see if he was doing things right. After he was done with his update, he asked Katsuki how his day had gone.

“Shitty,” Katsuki grumbled. “Damned Four Eyes kept asking me shit about the reunion, the entire fucking afternoon. While we were on patrol! I fucking swear, she enjoys pushing my buttons.”

“Oh come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Katsuki paused cooking to stare at his phone camera directly, silently daring Eijirou to contradict him again.

“Okaaaaay maybe it was. Do you think maybe she’ll leave you alone about getting your ‘special someone’ to join the ‘Team Make Katsuki Bakugou Take a Vacation’ team if I officially joined the team?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Katsuki pointed his knife at the camera, ignoring the laughter that came from the other end. “It’ll probably plant the wrong fucking idea in her head and make all this shit worse.”

“Okay okay, I won’t join behind your back or anything, but if you skip out on Hanta, Mina, and me for the reunion or the squad hangout the day after, not only will I join the team, but I will get Hanta and Mina to join too. Maybe even Midoriya and Uraraka.”

“I already said I’m going, you damned Shitty Hair! Back the fuck off already.”

“Just checking! Are we still good for rooming together?”

“Yeah. Cheeky and I should be arriving in Musutafu around one, unless shit runs late.”

“All right, I should be there around eleven, so I’ll go ahead and check in first and text you the room number―” Katsuki barely caught Eijirou’s hand suddenly reaching out towards the screen, knocking the phone over onto the ground. He heard the sounds of Eijirou fumbling with something off screen before a faint voice that sounded like a news reporter came on.

“What the fuck, Shitty Hair?”

Katsuki briefly got a screenful of Eijirou’s eyebrows again as picked the phone up, frowning when he noticed the panic in Eijirou’s eyes. “Look,” was all he said before the camera flipped to show his TV screen, turning up the volume.

It was a live broadcast, with the banner indicating that the reporter was standing in Miyazaki. In the background, dozens of police cars and firetrucks surrounded a tall fence, officers and firefighters rushing in towards what looked like a large hole in the side of a building. A few of the heroes stationed in Miyazaki were rushing in as well, all of them escorted by people who looked like―

Prison guards.

Katsuki put down his cooking utensils, hands moving to grip the counter’s edge until his knuckles turned white in an attempt to ground himself. He could almost feel the thick tar build in the back of his throat and it took all his self control to force his breathing to steady. He could barely focus on what the reporter was saying, nearly missing Eijirou’s hesitant, quiet voice.

“Isn’t that…”

“...Yeah.”

“Shit.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #kaminari denki #bakukami #kamibaku #katsuki bakugou #denki kaminari #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #story #from the creator

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