#And I liked the idea of the drink shaking gradually slowing so it really looked like he was listening. Im very glad this person caught it

[tumatawa]

I really like this analysis of my marcille and kabru animation

[nohoney]

hi sweetness I hope you’ve been well mwah :3 I’ve been going through a really bad bkg brainrot lately 🤤.

Anyway I’m sending you lots of love and kissies mwah

hello my love! i’ve been doing well and i hope you have been too! i feel you on the bakugou brainrot so here’s a lil something since we been missing him ♡( ◡‿◡ )

“you gonna cum for me, yeah baby?” bakugou huffs as he pounds your cunt, his movements making the bed shake and the air is thick with the smell of sex. he’s got your legs over his shoulders as he’s hunched over you, his fat cock fucking deep and harder into you and making an absolute wreck of your guts. “gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

your voice trembles with a small yes and slurring out that you’re a good girl for him.

bakugou presses himself balls deep into you and the way your pussy clenched around him so tightly almost makes him cum on the spot. he’s gonna flood that sweet pussy of yours. fill you to the brim full of him and make it overflow into a mess onto the bedsheets below. he delights in the idea of fucking you until you can’t take anymore.

ah fuck, you just came on his cock again and he loves it.

“good girl.” he mumbles as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“want y’er cum! please cum in me!” you whimper pathetically. he feels your hands cup his face, holding him tenderly and making him look down at you. you’re absolutely dick drunk and high from the pleasure, so delectable and too goddamn cute that he can’t deny your request. “katsuki please?”

“i will baby, i will.” he assures you, slowing down the pace just a little with more firm and deep strokes. he takes both your hands off his face and pins them to the bed. he’s got your left wrist pinned but he laces his fingers together with your right hand. “say you love me first.”

it’s so sweet how your voice carries to his ears and how your pussy is pulsing around his dick, “i love you katsuki.”

“love you too.” he returns the sentiment, feeling gooey soft and tender for you. he revels in it for just a moment before he firmly plants his hands on your hips and pulls back his own. bakugou peers down as he leaves just the tip in, rocking his hips to tease you and hear you whine at him.

“katsuki no! no teasing!”

“okay sweetheart.” he croons.

he rams his hips forward and bakugou is in utter bliss when you cum again. he fucks you into a blubbering mess, your pussy gushing wet every time he goes in. your soft little pants fill the air and he adores how your hands clench into fists on the pillow your head lays on.

he listens to your praises and drinks them in, his heart swooning when you say again that you love him. bakugou fucks the words out of you and he chases the high, the veins in his hands popping as he grips your hips harder. “gonna cum baby, fucking—fuck!” he grunts as his head falls back, almost gasping as he cums. “god i love you.”

you hum sweetly in acknowledgment of his words, gently patting your chest and telling him softly, “c’mere.”

“need to clean you up first, sweetheart.” bakugou points out as he pulls out of you. yet he finds himself leaning down towards you, resting his head on your chest and allowing himself to be held by you. he can’t help but sigh happily as your hands run through his blond hair, your fingers massaging at his scalp in just the right way that he likes.

“gonna marry you someday,” bakugou mumbles against your skin as he gradually becomes more relaxed, “i swear it baby.”

and you smile at him, massaging at his shoulders next and you coo to him, “someday katsuki…”

[towriteloveontheirarms]

"Back to school"- The kissing booth AU Chapter One

part 2 of 4 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader, side modern!Aemond Targaryen x modern!Floris Baratheon

summary: You get yourself in trouble on your first day back in school, go to a party and it´s time for the fundraiser. But nothing could possibly go wrong there, right?

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of sexual harrasment, underage partying and drinking

Taglist: @fan-goddess

(If you want to be tagged in this fic or any specif character taglists, send me an ask)

Now that you sat in front of the principal's office, looking down at the fingers that were playing in your barely covered lap, you questioned your whole existence. You were never one to get into trouble and now you had gotten yourself into exactly that by simply refusing to stay home. 

Aegon´s sigh beside you as he puts an ice pack to his busted lip pulls you from your thoughts.

“What?” your voice is a sharper than you intended to, but you don´t care. He was part of the reason why you were here now anyway. 

“I know you are naïve and all, but I never would have thought you would be naïve enough to come to school dressed like that and think nothing would happen.” He says dismissively. 

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, glaring daggers into his form that is still not looking at you. 

“Your skirt. You were practically asking for something to happen.” He turns to point at your exposed thighs. 

You scoff and open your mouth to give a retort, but right in that moment the principal calls you into his office. 

“It wasn´t my fault, I swear.” You start to defend yourself, before you even sit down. “My pants ripped and then my backups weren’t there and so I only had this left.” 

“Alright, just calm down.” The principal tells you in a slow voice that you assume is supposed to sound soothing, but you are close to tears with fury and embarrassment. Pulling down the short uniform skirt non-stop. 

“Calm down? I can´t calm down. A guy just grabbed my lady bum.” You almost whisper the last sentence. 

“Calm down? I can´t calm down. A guy just grabbed my lady bum.” You almost whisper the last sentence. 

“And he will have to face the consequences for that. Unfortunately, you broke a rule as well. The length of this skirt is a violation of the dress code. That means detention. Tomorrow.” 

Detention goes about as well as it could have. With Aegon sulking behind you on one side, rolling his eyes, shaking his head and scoffing ever so often and the guy that had grabbed you on the other side. As it turns out he is kind of cute though. Apologizing to you in earnest, effectively landing him your number and a date. 

Which kind of immediately gets temporarily forgotten that same afternoon, as Aemond drags you shopping. You slump in a chair in front of the changing rooms, waiting for him as the two of you brainstorm ideas for the fundraiser. A task that gradually grows to be more difficult than thought. Every new idea turns out to be taken by another club already, your legs bouncing more out of control with every rejected notion. Ending with you rubbing your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“Ugh, this is so stupid…” You groan and let your head hang over the back of the chair. 

When the sound of the curtain sounds off and you look at Aemond, it takes you a moment for the world to stop spinning, while he just stands there waiting for your judgement.

“You know I´m not much help with this stuff… Why do you even care that much how you´re gonna look at the party?”

“Because Alys is gonna be there and I really want to kiss her?” He replies in a dry tone. As if it is ridiculous that you even have to ask and honestly, now that you think about it, you probably should´ve known.

“Today was literally the first time the OMGs ever spoke to me. Plus, she is a cheerleader.” It still confused you majorly that they did in the first place.

“So? Baby steps.”

“She probably wouldn´t even make out with you is if you´d pay for it, Aem... Sorry…” When you look into his eye, instead of finding him hurt you see an idea bouncing around in his brain. As if someone out in the universe had silently counted to three you burst out at the same time.

“Kissing booth!” It feels so good to finally not have to worry about that anymore, but with the relief also comes back another sinking feeling. The one you get every time you think about the date.

“What is one even supposed to do on a date?” You ask Aemond as you sit down in a small café.

“I don´t know, like… sit and eat… I guess.” At his answer the two of you look down at the food in front of you. Exploding into laughter momentarily. You ignore the dirty looks the people around you are throwing your way.

“Seven hells, I´m so lost…”

“Come on, stop fidgeting. You´re gonna be great. And if he doesn´t see what a badass you are that´s his loss. Alright?” Aemond takes your hand to stop it from picking at the seam of your dress.

“I just… Okay, I mean I don´t really believe you, but alright.” You sigh and with your hands still restrained by his, all you can do to soothe your nerves is checking your makeup in the mirror one last time. As Aemond drives off you have half a mind to call him back right that moment. But you know what he would say and so you woman up, calm your trembling legs, wipe your sweaty hands on your dress and wait for your date to show up. Fifteen minutes after your agreed time he isn´t there. You take a deep breath and tell yourself to keep calm. He´s just running a bit late. Thirty minutes later you can´t help the second thoughts sinking in. And when you still wait in front of the restaurant an hour later, with no message or calls you finally called Aemond to pick you up again. You thank him countless times for trying to take your mind off the failure that was supposed to be your first date and he is a real friend, letting you bitch about it the entire time. When suddenly you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Your head whips around, the expression on your face speaks of more than just hurt feelings.

“Hey…” Your `date´ waves awkwardly, the black eye form the fight still sitting prominently on his face. “I came to… to apologize. I-“

“Yeah. One would think an apology is the least you could do.” You snark back.

“I know, but I had my reasons, okay? You gotta believe me. Targaryen has been going around for years, threatening every guy that planned on asking you out. And I won´t catch another black eye or broken nose or possibly worse for a pair of boobs.”

All the words you wanted to tell him before, get stuck in your throat and only come out in a scoff and a shaken head as he leaves. Lips pressed in a tight line and a curt nod.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You try to keep calm as you call Aegon that night. Which, much like your date, terribly fails. “Who in the seven hells told you that it was okay to go around keeping guys away from me?”

“I´m just trying to protect you. You´re naïve, but I know how guys really are.“ He argues back, but you can still hear the smile on his face.

“Oh, fuck off. You do not control me any longer. End of discussion.”

“Sure, we´ll see about that.” There it is again. That unmistakably smug smile on his face that can´t be hidden by his voice. With a frustrated yell you hang up on him and throwing your phone onto your bed.

Pitching your idea of the kissing booth doesn´t make you feel all too great either. Student council is more than just doubtful of the whole thing and Aemond isn´t any help at all as well. The only way you are able to convince them, is by lying about Aegon participating. Sadly, persuading student council doesn´t mean everyone else was ready to participate. Not on the manning the booth side at least. Upon asking most of your year, your phone blows up with messages of refusal. 

It makes you glad to get a break from all of it in the form of a party. Something you get excited about to early. The problems follow you there as well. Of course they do. First Aemond tries to talk you into talking to his brother and then the OMGs call you over to them. You don´t even finish greeting them, when Talya holds a Jello shot in your face. 

“Here, you need to taste this. Tastes green.” Her voice sounds over the loud music. 

Your heart beats higher as the alcohol burns down your throat, yet the girls don´t give you a break. Johanna and Alys talk at you to get you to go over to Aegon and ask him to do the booth, who is currently busy making out with some older girl. For the sake of everyone's well-being and to not catch anyone's attention, you ignore the pull at your heart and after another shot from Talya, you get pushed into the elder Targaryen´s direction.

You clear your throat once and then twice before they notice you. You have never seen the girl before, but she is arguably tipsy already and immediately gets mad at you. Shoving you as she tells you to get lost. You go to defend yourself, but Aegon beats you to it. Telling the girl that you are like a sister to him, and she needs to get. There is another stab in your heart. No one wants their crush to put them in the sibling zone after all. 

“Sorry, for ruining that for you…” Your voice is barely audible over the music. 

“Nah, it´s okay.” He waves your intrusion off with a small smirk that always seems to rest on his lips. 

“Now, that you are alone though… I wanted to ask, if you would help with our kissing booth for the fundraiser?” You try to smile and look as cute as possible to hopefully get a yes out of him. 

“Never.” He chuckles. Thus, sending you back to your new `friends´. 

When the girls ask you what he said, you put on a mask and just tell them “He basically does whatever I ask, but…” You put a finger to your lips. 

The rest of the party goes by much easier and with a whole lot more alcohol. Though you would not remember any of it the next day. Not the many games of beer pong or the Jello shots or may the gods know what else you drank. And most importantly you don´t remember how you started to dance on a table, pulling off your shirt for everyone to see or being caught and carried to a bed that isn´t yours right as you begin to fall.

What you think you will remember forever is the all-consuming and mind-numbing hangover the morning after. Looking around once the daylight isn´t so blinding anymore, you recognize it is Aegon’s room you´re in. At that realization you hurriedly check the state of your clothing under the blanket, to find yourself out of the clothes from last night and in Aegon’s football jersey. The gods didn´t mean you well after either. Right as you plan to sneak out of bed and find your clothes before anyone else can see you Aegon enters the room. You try to hide yourself behind the blanket as you bicker with him about the happenings of the previous night and getting to your clothes. So busy, that you don´t even realize your legs had tangled up in the blanket, making you fall on top of him.

Aegon laughs about the whole thing, as always. You on the other hand are utterly humiliated by the time you are dressed and leave the room to join Aemond, who is already up and way too cheery for what happened the night before. On the other hand, he hands you an emergency kit to cure the thundering headache so you can´t be too mad at him overall.

As it seems you have more reason to be mad at yourself anyway. May the seven damn all alcohol for making you tell everyone Aegon, who even now you can´t stop thinking about, would do the booth.

 Building the booth with Aemond is a lot more fun than any of the process before was. You are so stressed out with planning everything, so when his brush hits your skin, turning the skin it touched in a stripe of paint, your first reflex is to give him a taste of his own medicine. Through the laughter and fun, things quickly get out of hand. Ending with you covered in paint all over, as he is a much better shot when it comes to flinging the paint at you without seeing much or being hit with it himself. All the while you can´t even really open your eyes anymore, because there is so much paint on your face.

It leads you right into your next… mishap.

In your almost blinded state, you stumble into the closest changing room, thinking it´s the girls one. Your shirt comes off in a swift motion, the color splashes already starting to dry. Over the sound of the running water in the sink you don´t hear the quiet giggles.

It only erupts into full blown laughter and whistles when you turn around. Still covered in paint, but finally able to see again. They don´t even stop when you feel Aegon´s presence behind you. He lays a hand on your shoulder, trying to shield your half naked body from the spectators and pulling you out of the room simultaneously. However, in his own self-assuredness he forgot your promise that he wouldn´t control you anymore. So, you make sure to run an extra round through the full changing room, leaving with a smug smile on your face and your shirt over your shoulder. Reveling in the disappointed look on his.

After that incident preparations come along great and in no time, you are ready for the fundraiser to arrive. You eat cotton candy and check out the other attractions with Aemond, giggling at the irony of some clubs' choices. Aemond leaves you to go and prepare as you approach Aegon one last time. Asking him for help one last time. 

“Look who´s come crawling for help…” His tone is so cynical it stings. 

“Ugh, forget it. I just thought it would be nice for you to do something for people that care about you… Guess I was wrong.” You hide the frown by turning around and trudging off. 

And then it is time to open your own booth. You put on a happy mask and slide the name plates of the first two people in, handing them their blindfolds. Meanwhile Aemond greets the small cluster that has built in front of the makeshift cash register. 

“Alright! First off for the ladies: Jason Lannister! And for the guys: Johanna Lannister!” 

“Tickets can be bought right here; all sales and smooches are final.” You add and smile as the crowd cheers. 

You and Aemond basically get bombarded with money and so the kissing booth starts off as what you would call a great success. Well, one shouldn´t count their chickens before they hatch, or so they say.

After a while there is a rising uproar, commanding for Aegon.

“Targaryen! Targaryen! Targaryen!” You hear the crowd chanting.

Giving Aemond a panicked look he does something you would have never expected of him. He snatches a blindfold and gets out on stage to replace Jason. Your explanation that it was in fact `Targaryen´ up there, still turns away 99% of the girls. First and foremost, Alys. Which makes you feel hurt for your already blindfolded friend. Then, to your surprise, Floris Baratheon steps forward and pulls him into a passionate kiss. You step aside with them. They look so happy you feel like throwing up.

“It sure is okay to let you man the booth alone, right? We just wanted to have some more fun at the fair before the night is over.” Aemond looks half worried for you, but you know the happiness of the moment overweighs that.

“Yeah, of course I am sure. Now go, before I change my mind.” You smile brightly. Aemond and Floris look so cute it is easy for you to abide by rule number 18 of your friendship rules. Always be happy for your besties successes.

When you return to the action you are right on time to stand in Johanna´s way as she storms off stage. “I can´t do this!”

Looking past the curtain you see one of the nerds picking his nose as he is waiting next in line.

“Girl, you said Targaryen would be here. He isn´t. So I guess it´s your turn now.” Alys blindfolds you and shoves you out on stage.

You know lying wasn´t fair, yet still you feel betrayal course through your system. Unbeknownst to you they dug their own grave. With gaping mouths, they have to watch as none other than Aegon Targaryen replaces that nerd.

You however, only feel two hands on your shoulders, alerting you to someone standing in front of you.

“Okay, look. We don´t really have to do this. I know you expected Johanna and… And this is my first kiss. I mean I tried to kiss Cregan when I was younger but we kind of butted our heads together and…” You ramble on and on until a pair of lips shuts you up.

Butterflies rise up in your tummy and you move quicker than you ever have to remove the blindfold, to find your crush of so many years in front of you. In a matter of seconds your lips find his again. Pressing against them, your arms slung tightly around his neck. Your mind feels as blank as ever. It´s like in one of those movies, where the camera spins around the kissing couple as fireworks go off in the background. In this moment everything is more than just perfect.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Poetic Tragedy (Part 12)

Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues, mentions of sexual assault. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay some of it is lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess? 

There's a little smut in this one for you guys looool

A/N: I can’t believe I was so inspired that I churned out a 12 part fic lmao. For some reason, I always struggle with writing long fics for Billy. For other fandoms, I can legit get up to an 80 part story. I think it's because I prefer writing OCs rather than reader inserts, but I know last I asked on here before I vanished that the Billy fandom prefers reader stories. 

The longest Billy fic I’ve done was Red, White and Blue which was a collab with @blanchedelioncourt and I think the only reason I managed that was ‘cause she was cheering me on the whole way and it was so fun writing together. That was also an OC story, not a reader one, and I did all Billy’s parts (which was ridiculously fun to do lol) while she did her OCs. I’d love to be super inspired to write a long ass Billy fic like I do with other fandoms. When I was away from this blog I wrote a 75 part Spike x OC story for the Buffy fandom lmaoooo 

—------------------

One year later

“You’re getting really good at that,” Curtis murmured and you would have seen his encouraging smile but you didn’t look up from your task. Your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you carefully threaded the needle through the skin, watching the wound close before your eyes. You’d stitched that many wounds these past few months that your hands didn't shake when you did it anymore.

“Ow, Jesus!”

Your eyes snapped up to your patient then, dangerously narrowing in warning at him. One hand was settled on his bare chest, the other holding the needle above the wound which was just below the shoulder.

“Do you want this stitched up or not?” you asked with a short tone.

“Curt, I think your little apprentice needs to work on her bedside manner,” he drawled with a smirk.

“Careful, Billy, or I might stitch your mouth up next,” you gave him a saccharine smile and he looked at you like he wasn't sure if you actually meant your words or not. You heard Curtis snort from across the room as you continued with closing the wound, tying it off like Curtis had shown you before cutting the thread. He hadn't even hurt himself on a mission or doing something brave. Instead, he’d hurt himself because he decided it was a good idea to go up a ladder after he’d had a few drinks. 

“What d'you think, Doc? Is it gonna leave a scar?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile since he was already littered with them, his eyes looking over to Curtis. Your eyes narrowed again and you poked him scarily close to his wound and he yelped, looking at you in shock. You never allowed him to talk shit about himself, especially when it came to his scars. Curtis came over, inspecting your patch job and he hummed, smiling at you.

“You’re gonna put me out of a job at this rate,” he smirked, making heat creep into your cheeks at his praise. 

So much had changed in the year that passed and you barely had any remnants of your old life. You and Billy had taken things slow as you’d both agreed on and he’d been a little more understanding, yet not very happy, when you’d left again. He’d come to visit you at your alley or you’d go there for dinner sometimes and it was nice as you got to know each other better. Eventually, you started staying the night there and as time wore on, you spent less nights out on the streets. And now, a year later, you didn't sleep on the streets at all but you didn't really miss it. It had been a gradual thing that progressed as your relationship with Billy progressed. The more serious you both got, the less time you wanted to be away from him and the cold and desolate streets of New York started to lose their appeal. You were glad you’d taken it slow though as you knew it wouldn't work out the same if you’d just moved in here right away. You’d needed to wean yourself away from your old life and it had worked. Your dislike of violence had Curtis seeking you out to help him in the infirmary. There were even more to the ranks here since last year and he needed all the help he could get. You found you had a natural touch when it came to healing and helping people. You finally had a place and a purpose here that wasn't directly linked to being in a relationship with Billy. 

Once Billy had his shirt back on, he stood up and leaned in to peck your lips. It had taken a bit to get used to such intimate gestures and touches with him, a little beyond what you were used to. But you liked it and with time, it started to feel second nature. Without Curtis needing your assistance anymore that night, Billy laced his hand with yours as he led you out of the infirmary and back into the main area. Your eyes drifted around, taking in the Christmas decorations as a warmth spread in your chest. It would be Christmas the next day. You’d never celebrated it before, not even when you had a home because your parents didn't care enough to give you one. You hadn't celebrated it the year before either as it was just after Billy had been in hospital and it wasn't really on anyone’s mind. But this year, Frank had declared you all would be celebrating it as you all needed some holiday joy. He’d turned up the day before with Billy and a huge ass Christmas tree that you were pretty sure they’d somehow stolen. It was said tree that Billy had been decorating when he’d fallen off the ladder and onto a box of decorations, some of which were glass. The place looked magical all dressed up like this with all the twinkling lights and tinsel. You’d been amused at watching the badass recruits all falling over themselves to joyfully decorate the place. It felt like a very large family and you loved it, never having that feeling before. 

“What do you think?” Billy asked, smiling at you as you took it in. You’d been in the infirmary most of the day so you hadn't seen some of the decorations and hadn't seen the tree that was now done.

“It's beautiful,” you murmured, a wistful smile on your face as you turned to him. Billy had confessed to you that he wasn't a huge fan of Christmas. He, just like you, hadn't had one growing up really and then he’d found Frank and the Castles. The Christmases with them had been something else and after they died, he never wanted to have another Christmas. You had a feeling it had also been hard for Frank. You hadn't been sure why they’d changed their mind this year until Billy told you that he wanted you to experience the magic that he had with the Castles, that you deserved it. And you had a sneaky feeling Frank was thinking something similar to Karen, although she most likely had some experience with the whole Christmas thing.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied softly, cupping your cheek as your hands bunched into his t-shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, melting into him the same as you always did. When he pulled away, his dark brown eyes were warm as he gazed at you and his thumb stroked your cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly. You felt the butterflies swarming your stomach as you smiled up at him. No matter how many times he’d said it, you’d never get used to it.

“I love you too,” you smiled, leaning up to give him another kiss.

Things with you and Billy hadn't been plain sailing. You were new to any type of relationship and he was new to one like this and you both still had issues. His head still wasn’t quite right and you didn't think it ever would be after the trauma it had suffered and you had a temper. There had been a few explosive fights with you, when Billy was being unreasonable or overbearing and you couldn't hack it. After being on your own for so long there was no way you’d sit there and take orders. The pair of you could be stubborn but with time, you’d learnt to be better at the relationship. Learned to give and take. You both struggled to admit when you were in the wrong, but knowing how much you could hurt each other usually made you both humble up pretty quickly. You hated when you said something hurtful and you’d see his face fall, hurt flashing behind his eyes, and you knew he felt the same about you. The fights had become less frequent with each passing month and things had settled down nicely. The fights would no longer be drawn out for days as you both refused to back down and only made things worse and instead, whoever was in the wrong would sheepishly approach the other to apologize. And you both weren't assholes about either. You didn't prolong the argument by refusing the apology. Neither of you got any joy when you fought. 

You moved away from Billy, walking over to where your polaroid camera was sitting on the table. It had been an early Christmas present off Micro since he wouldn't be there for Christmas, instead spending it with his family. He’d given it to you two weeks prior when you last saw him, telling you he was too excited to wait closer to Christmas to give it to you. You’d accidentally discovered your love for photography when he’d let you use one of his cameras and he’d told you once that you seemed to be able to capture the beauty in anything, especially in the city you were so fond of. He had a collection of cameras and you’d been fascinated by the polaroid as it printed the picture instantly. There was something special about the fact the picture couldn't be edited or changed, that you had one chance to get the shot you wanted. Because nothing was perfect and capturing that was what you loved best. You’d been overjoyed and moved beyond words by his gift and you’d made good use of it. You swiped it off the table, aiming it at the beautifully decorated tree. You snapped a picture of it, setting it on the table to develop as you took a few more of the recruits decorating and laughing with each other, a cute candid of Frank and Karen snuggling on one of the many beat-up second-hand sofas that were now here. The place had changed so much since you’d first come here. It no longer just felt like a base of operations where a bunch of people were staying, but it felt more like a home. There was even a little recreational area on the first floor too now.

“I like that one,” Billy hummed from over your shoulder, looking down at the one of Frank and Karen in your hand as it fully developed. 

“Should I put it on the wall”? You asked, looking at him curiously. His lips curled into a smirk as he kissed the side of your head. He took the picture from you and you followed him as he went to the wall near the rec area, tacking the picture up with all of the many you’d put up there. Everyone seemed to enjoy that wall and would often come to look at it, sometimes finding one of themselves they hadn't even realized you’d taken. Billy had been a little harder to capture at first. He’d point-blank refused to be photographed because of his face. You’d tried your best in your time with him to reassure him, to show him you loved him no matter if he had scars. You felt that it had helped as slowly over the two weeks that you’d had the camera, he’d started to allow you to take pictures of him. You wanted him to see the beauty that you saw in him too.

Later that night, everyone was hanging out on the lower floor just having a fun and relaxed Christmas eve. A group of you were sitting on or around the sofas as you all played charades and you found it hilarious how competitive Frank and Billy could be and how they’d get annoyed with each other. Billy was the one up and you were sitting on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, courtesy of Annie who had made everyone one with some whipped cream and marshmallows. Some people had a splash of alcohol in theirs but you’d abstained.

“Movie title,” Frank asserted eagerly as Billy made a gesture. Frank was sitting on the edge of a sofa as Karen smirked at him. You still weren't even sure how to play the game but you found the whole thing amusing. Billy held up two fingers and Frank called out ‘two words’ and Karen snorted loudly into her cup. 

“First word, okay,” Frank muttered after Billy held up one finger. 

“Kill!” Frank barked after Billy made a motion like he was slitting his own throat. He shook his head, giving Frank an annoyed look and he’d only just started. 

“Dead! Murder!” Frank kept shouting out words and you slurped your hot chocolate and tried not to laugh at how eager he was about it all. Billy growled, looking ready to throttle him. He held up two fingers then and from what little you’d learned from watching them play, he’d decided to move on to the second word instead. He gestured to his crotch and you raised a curious brow as Frank looked stumped.

“Cock?! Dick?!” He yelled, Billy shaking his head every time and you almost choked on your drink as Karen started laughing. You couldn't believe how seriously they were taking it. Billy lay his hand over his crotch again before raising his hand, quirking a brow at Frank like it was obvious.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?!” Frank growled, only serving to make you and Karen laugh more and you weren't the only ones as everyone in hearing vicinity was finding it amusing.

“Goddamn it, Frankie! I was Die Hard, you fuckin’ moron!” Billy shouted, a vein in his neck bulging as he gave Frank a scathing look. 

“How was I supposed to guess that with that bullshit?” Frank huffed as he shook his head. 

“It was kind of obvious,” Karen murmured with a cheeky grin. Frank turned to her looking offended.

“You could have helped me,” he griped petulantly and she shot him a smirk.

“I’m not on your team, why would I do that?” she snorted.

“And you call yourself a Bruce Willis fan,” Billy scoffed, still glaring at Frank for letting the team down.

“When did I say that?” Frank asked, squinting at him slightly.

“Didn't have to. Was kinda obvious when you carried a picture of him overseas,” Billy smirked mockingly at him, making Frank gape at him.

“Like hell I did!” he yelled, standing up as he and Billy moved to stand toe to toe with each other, Billy’s eyes lighting up like he loved the prospect of a fight.

“Alright you two, sit your asses down,” Karen grinned, shaking her head as she shoved Billy over to you and Frank back in his seat. Billy was grumbling to himself as he sat with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You all stayed there for a bit longer watching some others play, it being a lot safer when Billy and Frank weren’t up and with their constant bitching at each other. 

“Should we give Frank and Karen their gift now?” Billy asked quietly from next to you. You looked at him, excitement radiating from every pore in your body. You’d been so excited about this that you’d pestered Billy to let you give it to them early. Seeing you practically wriggling where you sat with eager eyes, he chuckled before standing up, you following suit. 

“Hey, you guys got a minute?” Billy asked, tapping Frank on the shoulder as he interrupted their conversation. Billy moved over to where you were hovering, biting your lip to stop the smile from splitting your face as they walked over.

“What's up?” Karen asked, looking a little worried.

“Me and Y/N wanted to give you your present early,” Billy explained with a smirk, Karen and Frank glanced at each other for a moment before back at the pair of you.

“You sure? We can wait-” Frank started but you cut him right off.

“You’re not waiting! Come on!” you whined impatiently, earning a snort from Billy.

“Gotta come up and get it,” Billy grinned. They followed you both up the stairs, you and Billy sharing shit-eating grins as you got to your floor. But instead of going to the room you shared with Billy, you stopped outside of your old room. When you’d started to stay the night with him, it had been in his room and when you eventually moved in, neither of you really spoke about you having your own room as it felt pointless. Billy gestured with his head for Frank to open the door and he shot Karen a wary look before he pushed it open, walking inside with Karen towing behind him. You felt like you were vibrating you were so excited, you hadn't stopped being excited since Karen had told you the news a month before. It had been your idea and Billy had loved it. 

“Oh my god!” Karen cried out as you and Billy filed in after them. Your old room was now a rainbow-themed nursery, complete with a crib and all the furniture new parents would need and a bunch of stuffed animals. Karen was tearful, one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach as she soaked it all in and Frank was blinking rapidly as he looked around. He turned to you and Billy then with a meaningful look on his face.

“You didn't have to do this,” he murmured, his voice sounding raw. 

“We wanted to,” you replied softly, giving him a smile.

“You know I’ll always take care of you, Frankie, no matter what it is you need,” Billy’s voice was thick with emotion and you knew this whole thing had been tough for both of them after the loss of Frank’s family. Frank sniffled with a smile, moving to grab Billy in a long hug as they muttered something to each other you couldn't make out. Karen took your hand, tears down her cheeks.

“Thank you, I love it,” she said sincerely, trying to muster up a smile for you. You squeezed her hand as you smiled back with a nod.

“I’m glad you like it,” you replied. She moved to hug Billy then and Frank rested his hand on your shoulder.

“I really appreciate this, we both do,” he muttered firmly, leveling a look at you that told you just how much he meant his words. The four of you hung out a little bit in the new nursery as Karen and Frank really took in everything they had now for the new baby. After a while, you and Billy decided to head to bed and Karen and Frank went back downstairs, not ready to turn in for the night. You were over the moon they liked their gift and you couldn't wait for the baby to be born. You’d never had family or friends to experience this with before and you found the whole thing exciting. 

When you and Billy got to your room, you stripped out of your clothes and changed into your pajamas, which were essentially just a t-shirt of Billy’s and some panties. You climbed into bed with a yawn before Billy, who was only in his boxers, got in beside you. 

“You excited for your first Christmas?” he asked softly, rolling to face you. You copied him, now facing him and smiling when he tucked your hair behind your ear sweetly. 

“I am, I’ve already been enjoying the festivities,” you grinned, making him smile. He leaned over, kissing you softly but it quickly became heated as he rolled on top of you. You felt desire shoot through you like an electric current as he pressed himself against you, moaning into the kiss and getting a moan from him in response. Things on the sexual side had been slow at first with Billy, given your history and lack of experience. It had taken you four months to feel ready to take that leap and he hadn't put any pressure on you. Not even letting his hands wander when you made out like a pair of horny teenagers so he didn't make you think he was pushing you. You were grateful for him to let you take the lead, to let him know when you were ready. And after four months, you had been. You had no idea how to initiate it though since you’d never done anything before and your times with Josh had you lying there like a lifeless doll. And being as blunt as you were and seeing no sense in dancing around it, you’d just told him how you felt. You told him you wanted to take the next step but had no idea what you were doing. He didn't make you feel stupid or embarrassed about it either. He was kind and caring as he guided you through everything as you learned to explore sex with him. Something that had once been negative to you quickly became something positive and you’d even tried some things with him you never thought you’d be into. Trusting him as much as you did, you never felt embarrassed about trying things with him as you learned about yourself in a way you’d never had the chance to before. 

His kiss was bruising and you lost yourself in it. You never knew which Billy you would get in bed, soft and slow or hard and rough, but that was half the fun. It usually depended on his mood and you were happy to go along with whatever because you liked it either way. A fun perk of having your explosive arguments would be the just as explosive make-up sex. He slipped his hand into your panties and started circling your clit with ease, making you gasp and he moaned against your lips. He had you writhing against his hand in no time, panting into the kisses he was showering you with. But then he moved away, tugging the shirt off you impatiently and pulling your panties down. He rid himself of his boxers before lining himself up for you, not feeling up to much foreplay tonight it seemed as he sheathed into you in one fluid motion. Your moans mingled together and he propped himself up with one arm beside your head as the other grabbed your thigh, hitching it up a little. He started thrusting into you, not quite fast but not slow either and you arched up to meet each thrust. The hand on your thigh slid up and then around to your lower back, angling your hips in a way that had a loud moan erupting from you. He kissed you desperately, your bodies entwined together and you felt the pleasure gripping you like a vice. He moved to kneel up then, his hands trailing over your breasts as he palmed them, his thrusts slowing for a moment. It was like the calm before the storm before his hands gripped your hips tightly and he started fucking into you roughly. Your moans got louder and more desperate, your hands coming above your head to the headboard, needing to find purchase on something as your body jostled with the movement. Each thrust felt like it had the air being forced out of your lungs in a needy moan. You felt your pleasure increasing, your body tingling all over as you listened to his groans, watched his face contorted in pleasure with his mouth slightly open and his eyes screwed shut. 

“Billy,” his name tumbled off your lips like a fervent prayer and he let out a dirty moan that almost pushed you right over the edge. He was over you again in a second, his mouth claiming yours roughly as he kept his punishing pace with you. You could barely kiss him back in your delirium, moaning wantonly into his mouth as your back bowed up off the bed. It felt like you exploded into a million tiny fragments as your release washed over you. He moaned sinfully against your lips, thrusting into you a few more times before he came with a harsh and rough groan. 

The pair of you lay there panting for a moment, his forehead resting on yours as you came down from your high. But then he was giving you a dopey smile, kissing your lips tenderly. You hummed softly into the kiss and when he pulled out of you, you felt the loss instantly. He flopped onto his back looking tired and you wasted no time in rolling over, laying your head on his chest. His arms came around you with no hesitation, one of his hands going to your hair as he stroked it softly. 

“I love you,” you mumbled tiredly into his chest. He pressed his lips to your head for a moment, his arms around you tightening.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, making you smile against him as your eyes fluttered shut.

The next morning, you shuffled down the stairs sleepily with Billy by your side and a wrapped present in your hand. You’d been woken by Frank telling you both to get your asses downstairs. It had resulted in the sibling-like bickering you’d grown to be fond of between Billy and Frank since he’d walked right in and you had only a sheet for your modesty. But Frank had pointed out that Billy had walked in on him and Karen plenty of times. As you got into the main area, you saw a mountain of presents and smiled to yourself, seeing everyone milling around, eating breakfast or just hanging out near the big tree. Billy still had some of his money left over from his Anvil days, although it was slowly dwindling with no income to replace it and he was trying to be more careful with it. But he wanted to make sure every single recruit got a gift from him and Frank to show them they were appreciated. They’d sent Karen off with her investigative experience to figure out what to get everyone. All the presents were wrapped and had tags on and you wondered who the hell had managed that feat, having a feeling it was probably the machine also known as Karen. You spent the morning drinking coffee and nibbling croissants as you watched all of the recruits open their gifts. There was a warmth in your chest that seemed to be settled there, not moving since you’d come downstairs. Karen and Frank came over to where you and Billy were then, two wrapped presents in their hands.

“These are you for,” Karen murmured, handing you one as Frank handed Billy the other. You gave them a shy smile before you started to peel the perfectly wrapped paper and when you were done, you grinned. It was a beautiful dark brown coat with cream fur trim, some embroidered flowers along the bottom of it. It looked like it would fall past your hips. It had a retro vibe about it that you loved and you felt touched as your fingers danced along the fur.

“Thank you guys,” you said softly, beaming up at them. You didn't have a coat, you’d never bothered to get one and you didn't like the idea of Billy buying you one when you knew he was basically funding this place from the only money he had. You’d been using spare coats that were hung in a closet. 

“I thought of you as soon as I saw it,” Karen grinned, looking happy you liked it.

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed from next to you, sounding in awe. You turned to look at him to see a large knife in his hands, all black with a fancy-looking handle. He twirled it expertly before he shot you a dirty smirk and you felt your cheeks burn as you looked away quickly. While you had a distaste for violence, you found out only the week prior that you were pretty fond of Billy wielding a knife in the bedroom. You’d really surprised yourself with that one. 

“I fuckin’ love this,” Billy laughed, a bright smile on his face before he stood and grabbed Frank in a tight hug. Frank clapped him on the back before he moved away, eyeing the knife a little warily and you snorted. Billy then moved to hug Karen and you stood too. You still weren't much of a hugger with anyone other than Billy but you were slowly getting used to it and after the gift they’d just gotten you, you felt like it was a good moment. With Karen busy with Billy, Frank smiled warmly at you, moving over to grab you in a hug. He squeezed you a little before moving away.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” he murmured, making your throat feel a little tight. Karen wrapped her arms around you then, her hug a little longer than Franks. 

“Merry Christmas,” she smiled, pulling away. You felt a little overwhelmed and always conscious of your needs and knowing how you were feeling, Billy thanked them once again before moving you to sit once more. 

You and Billy sat there for a little longer, snuggled up together as you just enjoyed watching everyone have a good time. You kept wondering when you should give Billy his gift but he hadn’t mentioned anything yet and you were a little nervous so you just happily cuddled into him for a while. 

“Come on,” Billy murmured after a bit, pulling you up from your seat.

“Where are we going?” you asked, blinking up at him.

“The roof, get your coat,” he flashed you a smile and you grabbed his wrapped present before you grabbed your new coat, smiling to yourself as you put it on. It was so warm and cozy, you loved it. Billy grabbed his own coat, matching you slightly with the small amount of fur on his collar and you watched him as he tugged the hood from his hoodie out of it. He took your hand as he led you up to the roof. You’d both created a little area up here, like a little safe space just for you two. It had a sofa and a small table, some lights too. In the warmer months, you’d even camped up here much like he had set up for you the night before the Irish mob got wiped out and you loved it. The only thing you missed about being out here as you slept was being under the stars. You both walked to the sofa and sat down and you felt anxiety thrumming through you about your gift. You had no idea if he’d like it or not and with his moods, sometimes it was hard to predict how he might react. You wanted to get it out of the way so you handed him his gift first with a hesitant smile. He took it, slowly unwrapping it as your eyes stayed glued on his face for even the smallest of reactions. If things went south, you weren't above grabbing it off him and running back downstairs. Once opened, he was faced with a black velvet scrapbook and he raised a brow at you.

“Open it,” you encouraged, a nervous smile on your face as he did as you asked. There were pages of various pictures of people he cared about. Frank, Karen, Curtis and Micro. Some of the recruits doing drills or just hanging out. There were even a couple of the Castles that Frank had given you when you told him what your present idea had been. Billy swallowed thickly as he turned page after page, taking it all in and getting noticeably emotional whenever he saw one of the Castle’s.

As the pages drew on, he started to be included in the pictures. One’s of him and Frank or him and Curtis or Micro, some of them altogether. Most of them were candid pictures given he didn't like posing for pictures and there was a sweet one of him giving Karen a hug from her birthday that year. The next page was filled with just pictures of him, all of them candid and he had no idea you’d taken and this was the part you were worried about the most. You knew how self-conscious he was, knew his aversion to having pictures taken, so you hoped he wouldn't be upset by it. There were pictures of him training or running drills, some of him cleaning his guns or knives. Various candid shots of him smiling or laughing as he spoke to someone but you managed to just get him in the shot. There was even one of him sleeping, looking peaceful and serene. He didn't look at you as he took it all in, his Adam's apple bobbing as his dark eyes swept over all the pictures of himself. He turned the page and was greeted with the last two pages that were full, you’d left some empty to add to later, and it was full of the pair of you. He only ever allowed you to take pictures of him if he was with you and you had a good number of them. Cheesy shots with a bright grin on your face, ones you’d taken after saying something to purposely make him laugh. There was one of the pair of you lying in bed together looking incredibly rumpled with sleepy smiles on your faces. There were even a few you hadn't taken yourself but Karen had. Some candids of the pair of you she’d decided to take since she knew what your plan had been. And you were grateful for them, you loved them the most. One of you sitting on Billy’s lap on the sofa, the pair of you smiling at each other. One of you laughing together and another of him training you in basic self-defense. There was one of you clinging to him after he’d come back from a job, his hand in your hair with his eyes closed, a relieved smile on his face. There was even one Karen had taken of when Billy had purposely made you walk under some mistletoe with him just two days before and then kissed you.

 

Billy was uncharacteristically silent as he looked at them all and you toyed with your hands restlessly, unsure if he liked it or was upset with you. 

“Do you like it?” you asked quietly, dread coating your tone as he just sat there staring for what felt like forever.

“I uh…” his voice cracked and he clamped his mouth shut for a moment before taking a steadying breath. You noticed then how shiny his eyes were as he looked right at you. You felt breathless at the sight.

“I love it. I don't even… I never thought I’d like lookin’ at pictures of myself again. But this is… it’s amazing. Micro was right, you really do capture the beauty in anything,” he murmured, his voice wavering a little. He reached out and clutched your hand, your body relaxing infinitely knowing he liked it. It touched you that he was moved so much by it. That it meant so much to him, as much as it meant to you when you put it together.

“It’s not hard to capture beauty in something already so beautiful,” you replied, a loving smile on your face. His eyes softened as he brought your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on it before he tugged you. You wound up straddling him and his hands slipped inside your coat, settling on your hips. 

“Thank you. It's the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said sincerely, squeezing your hips a little. You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you smiled down at him, your hand coming to toy with the short hair at the base of his skull.

“I was worried you wouldn't like it. It meant a lot to me, putting it together. It's special… you're special,” you breathed, gazing down at him. His lips curled into a smile, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck as he pulled you down for a kiss. He seemed to pour his gratitude into the kiss and when you pulled away, you felt lightheaded. 

“Time for your present,” he smirked, but it seemed a little off. Tense somehow. It took you a moment to realize he was nervous too and it was slightly endearing that you hadn't been the only one worried. He pulled something out of his coat pocket before holding it in front of him. It was a small black box and he toyed with it for a moment, eyes darting from you to the box before back at you. He didn't say anything as he cracked it open and revealed a beautiful silver ring. There was a large diamond in the middle and two sapphire stones on either side. You blinked down at the very expensive looking gift for a moment, unsure what to say.

“It doesn't haveta mean anything. It- It could just be a… a pretty ring you wear,” he started, unable to look at you as he shook his head.

“What do you want it to mean?” you asked slowly, unsure where he was going with this and his weird presentation of the ring to you. He took the ring out of the box, setting the box on the sofa beside you, still not looking at you as he stared at it.

“I’d ask you to… to marry me, but uh… I’m a wanted fugitive so I don't see us… don’t see us walking down the aisle anytime soon,” he muttered with a chuckle, seeming unsure of himself. His words stole the breath from your lungs and your heart started beating like a hummingbird's wings in your chest. He looked up at you then, his dark eyes boring right into yours for a moment and suddenly, it seemed like his nerves melted away from him.

“I want it to mean that I love you. That I want forever with you. It means… It means that I-I found all I ever needed right here with you. It means that when I’m with you… the world just… it stops turnin’. Nothin’ else matters when I’m with you. All the bullshit I’ve been through, all the pain and loss and hurt… none of it matters. It means that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter how long that might be and I don’t need no damn papers to make it real,” he implored firmly, his eyes boring into you. You blinked at him for a long moment, brain trying to wrap around that he was essentially asking you to marry him. Your chest ached with the happiness you felt and you felt your eyes start to sting but you tried to push the tears away. You were rendered mute for a moment in your shock and awe and he looked back to the ring looking uncertain of himself. You cleared your throat, sniffling a little as you held your hand out.

“Are you going to put it on then?” you asked wryly, the emotion in your voice betraying how touched you were by his words and gesture. His eyes snapped back to you then looking almost surprised by your reaction.

“You're… you’re sayin’ yes?” he asked hesitantly. Your face broke into a grin and you wiped a stray tear that had escaped that was rolling down your cheek.

“Of course I am, did you really think I’d say no?” you asked with a snort. The smile that split his face was blinding and made you feel like he’d just shoved you off the roof. He took your hand in his, carefully sliding the ring on your finger. 

"I love you," he murmured, smiling at you.

“I love you too,” you grinned, leaning down and kissing him sweetly. He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back and suddenly, he’d shifted you and your back hit the sofa with him on top of you. He shot you a devilish smirk and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“It’s too cold for that up here,” you snorted.

“I got ways to warm you up, sweetheart,” he teased with a grin before leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 

The weight of the ring felt heavy around your finger but it wasn't a negative feeling, it was comforting. You’d grown up being unloved by the people who were supposed to care the most, spent the rest of your life being forgotten by society and shunned for circumstances beyond your control. All your life you’d been shown you were worthless and not worth loving. That you were damaged and you’d declared yourself as too broken to be fixed, passed the point of saving. And then you’d found Billy. He’d slowly put the pieces of you back together as you healed. You weren't perfect, but he treated you like the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold. You’d forever have imperfections and flaws from the life you’d had before, but he sealed every fracture with love and affection that was changing you into a better version of yourself and you hoped you did the same for him. Alone you were both broken, but together, you were now whole. 

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons.  Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie. 

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.  

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.  

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.  

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth. 

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”  

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders. 

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink. 

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list. 

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.  

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.” 

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter. 

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms  across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart. 

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly? 

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.   

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist. 

Bliss. 

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag  Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.  

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip. 

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare. 

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.” 

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.  

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.  

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

 He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens. 

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.  

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.  

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine. 

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut. 

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon? 

It’s worth the mess.     

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener. 

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.  

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display. 

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.  

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor. 

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.  

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department. 

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down. 

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally. 

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.   

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.” 

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace. 

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.  

It always does the trick.

***

[littlefreya]

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:  

 Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.  🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls. 

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear. 

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’. 

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes. 

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare. 

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options. 

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake. 

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert. 

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.  

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup. 

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned. 

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity. 

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth. 

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?” 

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.” 

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake. 

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean. 

“Please stop…” 

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.  

“Then…?” 

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped. 

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date. 

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up. 

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf. 

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?” 

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!” 

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration. 

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

[nanaminokanojo]

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

CHARACTERS: Sukuna X You | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Maki | Fushiguro Toji | Baby Megumi | Megumi's Mom (OC) CHAPTER COUNT: 1/3 WORD COUNT: 8900+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | (eventual) smut | ooc sukuna | female reader CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity/strong language | alcohol use | cigarette smoking | age gap | unhealthy simping XD SPOILERS: N/A

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210618]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh

[memes-saved-me]

No mirrors. That was the rule if Billy was going to stay with Steve after being discharged from intensive care. Gone or covered up for when he got there. A demand that threw Steve because Billy had always had mirrors around, looked for his reflection in car windows and television screens. Not anymore.

It wasn't until Steve saw him walking out of the hospital exit that he understood why, he knew himself that he would feel exactly the same way. His hair completely gone, hia hands shaking as he opened the passenger door and slipped inside carefully. That was when he truly understood the reasoning, his face.

His once perfectly even tanned complexion replaced by a scar running across from his left cheek, over his nose and just missing his right eye splitting his eyebrow in half. Raw and red contrasting with his now pale skin, still healing like the rest of him. His cheeks more hollow than Steve remembered, his shoulders smaller and the fire in his eyes completely gone.

This was the shell of the boy who once beat him half to death. The same boy who challenged his every move, watched him for a year at a distance. Except, it wasn't him. Not anymore.

It wasn't like he was the first option for where he would go. Joyce had left town before he was released, Hopper gone and Max refusing to let him return home. Her reasoning being a valid argument that Steve couldn't disagree with.

They weren't enemies, just not really friends but at a mutual understanding. The kind of understanding that somehow leads to a very confusing hand job in the toilets at prom, which would have definitely went further if someone hadn't banged on the door needing a drunken shit.

Steve had thought of visiting, for that moment's sake but Max had turned him away. Explained he didn't want anyone to see him, something he now understood. So he stayed away, asked for updates and eventually offered his spare bedroom for him to hide in until....well whatever was next.

A hey and a thanks were exchanged before Steve took off for home, nothing else being said until Billy followed Steve through the front door with his hood thrown up, eyes glued to the floor.

"Thanks for this," He said, almost whispered as Steve put his bags down.

"No problem, man."

The Mindflayer had swallowed up Billy Hargrove, a boy filled with fear and rage only to spit him back out barely recognisable. He'd had a run down of his medical file, chlorine and bleach to the stomach means so strong foods for a long time. Temporary brain damage that faded but could reoccur if he has an episode caused by some sort of trigger or PTSD. Damage to his lungs causing asthma and frequent attacks. A list of medication and appointments up until next year.

It was a miracle he was standing there. Different but alive.

On the third day into his stay Steve caught a glance at his body as he climbed out of the shower with the door half open. Scars running up his sides, an explosion on white tissue on his chest and back. What looked almost like white vines crawling up his arms to his elbows. No mirrors made more and more sense the more Steve saw.

Billy didn't sleep, if he did he woke up yelling for help. Causing Steve to instinctively come running along the landing to see if he was alright, only to find him curled in a ball with streams of tears down his cheeks.

It was gut wrenching to see him like this, his life now a living nightmare he couldn't escape and all Steve could do was feed him and check his meds. That was until one night as he turned to leave he heard; "Wait."

"Do you need a drink or something?" Steve replied.

"Stay with me. Please," For the first time since he had picked him up their eyes met.

"Okay."

At first he crawled in beside him and turned over to face away from the boy, the feelings he was still trying to figure out. Then he began sleeping in his bed every night, running his fingers down his back to calm him. Eventually their fingers entwined, bodies getting closer and closer until their faces were mere centimetres apart in the darkness of the spare bedroom.

"You know prom?" Steve asked, Billy eyes fluttering open.

"Yeah."

"I think about it a lot you know?"

"Really? I thought you were too drunk to remember all that," Billy replied and Steve shifted his body closer.

"I wanted it to keep going."

"Oh," Billy breathed and looked away for a second.

"I think I like you.. a lot."

There was a silence, the kind that makes you want to shove whatever you had just said right back into your mouth and run away to Spain.

"I've liked you since I got here. I was just drunk enough to actually try it at prom so when you went with it I thought it was going to happen again but," This was the most he had spoken in two weeks. "Then summer happened and well..."

"Really?" Steve asked. "Do you still like me?"

"Yeah."

It was as if his body moved before his brain could process it. Their lips met soft, gentle. Just long enough to remind Steve of that toilet stall. "Wow."

"But my face...my body..it's-."

"It's what? Scarred? Injured and healing? So what?" Steve interrupted him.

After that Billy began to smile every so often, at dumb jokes or whenever Steve walked past him. Billy moved into Steve's room, their bodies now pressed up against eachother to help stop the night terrors. Which it somehow did, expect for the odd few that nearly sent Steve flying out of bed with his heart in his throat.

The scars didn't fade but the idea of their hideousness did, ever so gradually with Steve's help. Every late night lying entwined half naked and exhausted as he traced the white lines on his chest helped more than he would ever know. Every nice word used to describe them, every sharpy line making them into pictures of badly drawn animals making Billy laugh. Smile.

Still no mirrors. A rule that fully added itself up when Billy confessed it wasn't just his appearance but the memories of staring at himself trying to figure out what was happening to him. Watching the reflection of himself put Heather into the bathtub, catch glimpses of himself in the rear view mirror of his car. So no mirrors it was, at least for now.

But that was more than fair considering how far he bad come, his hair growing in patchy and awkward but neither of them cared because it really didn't matter. His doctor explained it would simply he up to his body how long it took to fix itself, a fact Billy nodded along to and later groaned about during the ride back home.

Domestic bliss at times, horrible and scary at others. Some nights filled with laughter, others with tears and worry. Highs and lows but the lows becoming less and less frequent as time went on.

A whispered I love you so much and a returned I love you more than anything I could have ever imagined shared under a blanket in the dark. Followed by slow and careful sex. The only kind Billy could manage but this was different. A moment to remember. Just another in the many they had already shared, along with the many to come.

[deanstead]

Safe Now

Pairing: Jay Halstead X Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Nightmares, mention/hint of PTSD, Fluff!

Requested by anon:  hi lovely!! could i please request a jay halstead x reader, they are partners in intelligence and have been dating for a while. it’s been a really long week with a tough case, and after going to molly’s they go home. reader and jay also served in the army together. one night she has a really bad nightmare (like jay does) and jay checks on her and she grabs his wrist and nearly punches him, and then after she realises it’s him she cries and it’s just fluff after that? and she just asks jay to hold her and tell her she’s safe? i really hope that makes sense. thank you ❤️❤️

A/N: Thanks Anon for requesting this, I really liked this idea, so I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else likes it too! Feedback always greatly appreciated! Jay x Reader requests are open!

---

You looked over at the bar, where Jay was leaned against the counter, waiting for the drinks he had gone to get, laughing at something Herrmann had said.

Molly’s was usually crowded but it felt noisier than usual today. Or maybe it was because you felt strung out. It had been a long week and lined up with a tough case, you felt like you hadn’t slept in ages.

Being reunited with Jay in the Intelligence Unit had been the first time you had seen him since you both had served as Rangers and had been a nice surprise as well. Partnering him was seamless, maybe because you had fought alongside each other before. And as your boyfriend? Jay Halstead was more perfect than you dared to dream of.

“What’s on your mind?” Jay asked, as he moved through the crowd at Molly’s, handing you your beer and sliding into the seat opposite you.

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“Y/N.” He leaned towards you and you looked up. “It’s nothing. I was just… thinking how far we’ve come and…”

“Meaning I went to the bar over there to get a drink and you missed me?” Jay teased, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.” You took another swig from the bottle as Jay laughed.

It took less than 15 minutes for the both of you to finish your drinks, get out of Molly’s and back to Jay’s apartment. “Dead on our feet!” Jay groaned, throwing his jacket onto the couch.

“Later, Halstead.” You called as you disappeared into the shower, which was just everything you needed right now. As the warm water rained down on your back, you felt your whole body slowly relaxing but you couldn’t close your eyes. Not yet.

You hadn’t told Jay but the flashbacks had been coming at you recently, and only when you least expected it but you were sure they would go away soon. Maybe you were just tired.

By the time you got out of the shower, you were indeed almost dead on your feet. Planting a light kiss on your lips, Jay headed for the shower. “Don’t wait up.”

Couldn’t even if I wanted to, you thought, your eyes fluttering shut the moment your head touched Jay’s pillow. It had indeed been a long week.

Before long, Jay walked out of the shower, throwing on a shirt and picking up his phone to check that there were no missed calls or messages.

As you let out a whimper from the bedroom, Jay’s head snapped up, turning towards the sound.

In quick strides, he headed towards you, gently pushing open the door. “Babe?”

You lay curled up in the sheets, your hair splayed on your pillow as your breathing quickened and your whimpering got louder.

“Y/N, honey, wake up.” Jay called again, louder this time, reaching out to touch you.

In a swift moment, you sat up, your eyes snapping open as you grabbed his wrist with one hand and pulled back your other arm to throw a punch. “Woah. Y/N! It’s me!”

Regardless, Jay barely flinched, holding you at arm’s length, his eyes scanning your face. “Easy, Y/N. Babe, it’s me. It’s Jay. What happened?”

Your breathing hadn’t slowed, you were still panting as if you had been running but you exhaled as you finally registered Jay standing in front of you, still holding onto you.

“Jay.” You exhaled.

“You okay?” He asked, cautiously moving closer.

You didn’t answer, letting your hands flop down to your sides again. When you looked up again, your eyes were filled with tears. “Jay…I…”

“Talk to me. What can I do?”

There was a short silence before you spoke again. “Just… just hold me. Just tell me I’m safe now.” Your voice trembled a little.

Jay didn’t need telling twice.

Crawling up onto the bed, Jay pulled you into his arms, pressing you into his chest, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you. It’s okay.” You pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes as your tears seeped into the shirt he had hastily thrown on.

Gradually, your breathing slowed down as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat but you didn’t move and Jay didn’t either, wrapping his arms around you as you quietly cried, your hands grasping at his shirt.

“Better?” Jay whispered, as he felt your body stop shaking.

You nodded against his chest but made no effort to move. “Y/N, how long?”

You didn’t answer but Jay gently moved so that he could look at you. “How long?” He asked again, his eyes scanning your face.

“A week, maybe?” You mumbled, pulling your eyes away from his magnetic green ones.

Jay sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. Jay shifted and you grabbed his wrist reflexively. Jay smiled, “I’m not going anywhere. You gonna let me in bed with you? Or do I have to sit like this all night?”

You cracked a smile and Jay took that as his cue to crawl onto his side of the bed. “Come here.” Gently, he pushed his arm under you so that you were leaning on his shoulder.

Jay put his other arm around you. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” He whispered, resting his head against yours.

You didn’t respond. Jay quietly took your hand in his, gently playing with your fingers. “What is it?”

You sighed, readjusting your body towards him. “I just didn’t want… I didn’t want you thinking I was weak…” you whispered, as you felt him freeze. “Like I can’t handle anything… I didn’t…”

“Y/N.” Jay interrupted you, propping himself up on his elbow so that he was now looking right down at you. “You are anything but weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You know how many times you’ve saved my ass? Rangers… Intelligence… you did that and you made it home.” Jay paused before correcting himself, “We made it home.”

Slowly, you dragged your eyes up to his face. “You’re not weak.” Jay repeated, stroking your face gently with his thumb. “Anything but.”

The tears had sprung back to your eyes as you listened to Jay. “Halstead, you’re one hell of a man, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do.” He shot back, grinning.

You swiped at him and he grabbed your hand. “Had to be for you.” Jay replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Gently, he pulled your chin upwards before he brought his lips down to meet yours, pulling you into a tender kiss, gently pressing his warm soft lips onto yours.

“You’re safe now, I promise.” He whispered, as you lay safely curled up in Jay’s arms.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Home

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

Part 5

Read Part 4 here

Summary: Being the favorite has its benefits.

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, implied age gap, biting, creampie

~~

             Warmth seeps into your skin, lights up the room behind your eyelids. In your semi-conscious state, you think it feels natural, like sunlight. This is impossible, of course. No sunlight reaches your cell.

             Yet, when you crack your eyes open, you must throw your arm over your face to block the piercing light. You sit up, scrunching your eyes shut. Where is it coming from?

             Slowly, you adjust. You peel your lids open and realize you have no idea where you are. You’re sitting on a bed, a real bed, with an ornately carved oak headboard. You glance over the rest of the antique furniture, the hard wood floors, thick wool rugs, en suite bathroom, because your gaze is drawn to the windows.

             Windows.

             Windows with blue sky beyond.

             Your bare feet meet hardwood and you stumble, catching yourself on the window sill. A shaky exhale leaves you, a single tear carving a path down your cheek. Sky, grass, sunlight, things you haven’t seen for the better part of a year.

             You’re in a house, a home, nestled between two others, more across the street. Down on the sidewalk, a child rides by on a bike, helmet glinting in the morning sun. A car passes, driver waving to the neighbor as they retrieve the morning paper. Life all around you, continuing on as normal, as though you haven’t been missing for eight months, oblivious to the constriction in your chest, your quiet gasps, your panicked jubilation.

             Where is Asa? How had you gotten here?

             You tear you gaze away from the street, cross the room, making it to the door before noticing what you wear. Not lingerie, but clothes. Specifically, pajamas, shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, and they fit you as though you had picked them out at a store yourself. You haven’t worn clothes in so long you’ve forgotten how comfortable they are.

             It is when you reach up to feel the fabric you notice what is on your left hand. Your eyes go wide and you bring your trembling hand to your face to inspect the ring on your finger. Your ring finger, to be exact.

             A delicate gold band wraps perfectly around the digit and holds a huge, diamond-shaped emerald—the same color as your right eye—surrounded by smaller diamonds that create a vintage, floral pattern. You swallow the lump in your throat, heart pounding in your ears, eyesight narrowing to the green stone shimmering in the sunlight spilling in through the windows.

             A clatter from downstairs breaks you out of the beginnings of a panic attack and you gulp down air when you realize you hadn’t taken a breath since you discovered the…engagement ring. The click clack of dog paws on hardwood reaches your ears. You have a sneaking suspicion to whom this house belongs.

             Carefully, you tiptoe down the hall, ease down the first set of stairs, wincing with every creak of wood under your bare feet. On the landing, you can see the front door. For a moment you’re flabbergasted, struck dumb by the dainty lace curtain covering the window. You try to imagine Asa in his usual black ensemble shopping at a department store, perusing the home décor.

             You shake your head, ridding yourself of the absurd visual before quickly sneaking down to the main level. Quickly, you take stock of your surroundings; antique furniture, glass terrariums housing preserved insects, leather bound books, fucking porcelain wash basin in the bathroom…. If you had thought to imagine what Asa’s home would look like, it would not have been this.

             Another quiet clink distracts you. Assuming it’s from the kitchen, you follow the noise, passing through the dining room. You round the corner and pause in the doorway.

             The first thing you notice is his clothes. You’ve never seen The Collector out of his black pants and sweater. Today, he’s dressed in light colored jeans and a sand colored button-up. It’s jarring and for a moment you almost don’t recognize him.

             He’s seated at the table, coffee mug in hand, eyes flicking quickly over the paper spread out on kitchen table. Asa must feel your eyes on him because he glances up, meeting your wide, teary gaze. He doesn’t speak, just assess you, waits for your reaction. You take this as permission to speak.

             “W-What…” you try, your voice breaking. You swallow thickly, willing your constricting throat to make noise, “W-What is…this?” You motion to everything around you. You mean for him to explain the situation but you can hardly find the words, swept up as you are by your tumultuous thoughts.

             Asa crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, propping an ankle up on his opposite knee before speaking, “You’re going to live with me now.”

             “O-Oh.” You have no idea what to say, where to even start. Live with him? Does he mean forever? Why? And why you?

             You’re never going home, are you?

             And what is with the fucking engagement ring?

             Your gaze drifts to the mug sitting on the table, half full of dark liquid. Your eyes flick to the coffee pot on the counter. A steadying breath fills your lungs and you focus on the rich scent in the air.

             “May I please have some coffee?” you whisper, hands trembling. Asa stands, retrieving a mug from a cupboard.

             “Cream or sugar?”

             “Just cream, please.” The clink of a spoon against ceramic makes you flinch. Asa sets the cup on the table with a quiet clunk. He crosses the room to stand behind you, placing his hands on your arms and steering you toward the table to seat you in the chair beside his. He drops back into his own chair, returning to the paper as though this is the most natural thing in the world.

             Your quivering fingers close around the handle of the cup. You take a sip, closing your eyes and savoring the first taste of caffeine you’ve had in so, so long. Gradually, your heart rate returns to normal.

             You knew you were never going home. That fact shouldn’t be the surprise here. If you’re being honest with yourself, this is the best-case scenario. You’re no longer a resident in the Collector’s house of horrors. You’re in a real house, a home, with coffee and windows with blue sky beyond.

             And you’re with Asa. You love him, right? You’d said so yourself.

             Twice.

             Asa folds the paper, tossing it into the recycle before bringing his mug to the sink. He comes to stand next to you and you glance up from your drink to meet his dark gaze.

             “You may go anywhere in the house. There’s a list of tasks for you to complete before I get home this evening.” He nods to the slip of paper lying on the counter. Plucking your left hand off the table and fiddling with the ring on your finger, he continues, “The dogs have been trained to attack if you try to leave the house. I recommend you stay away from the front door. Understand?”

             Quickly, you nod. You’re relieved to be given instructions. It will keep you occupied, keep you from thinking too much.

             “If someone comes to the door, ignore it. The neighbors are….” Asa glares out the window, taking a deep breath before continuing, “They like to pry. They already know you’re here, so expect them to come by after I leave.” You squirm in your chair at that, eyes widening. He fixes you with an irritable frown, “Do you have a question?”

             “They…you said they know I’m here? What…who am I supposed to be…to you?” Asa raises an eyebrow, lifting your left hand higher for emphasis.  

             “I think that should be obvious.”

             “Oh.” Releasing your hand, he turns and stalks from the room without a backward glance. The jingling of keys reaches your ears. The doorknob rattles, door creaking open. Stomp of boots, then a pause as someone outside speaks. Distantly, you hear a response and it takes you a moment to realize it’s Asa speaking.

             “Morning, Bob.” You’re stunned. You’ve never heard him sound so relaxed, so cheery, “Ah…yes, they’re…” an interruption, mumbling you can’t hear, then Asa again, “they’re just sitting down to breakfast…” another interruption. You’re almost afraid for the person speaking. Who would dare interrupt Asa this much?

             You remind yourself the neighbors don’t know him like you do.

             “Of course,” Asa relents. Clearer, you hear your name called as he steps back into the house and, “Will you come here please?”

             Please? Had he really said please?

             You leap up from your chair, half jogging through the dining room but slowing when you see Asa standing at the front door, one foot inside, one out. Minutely, he narrows his eyes at you. A warning. You nod and plaster a fake smile on your face.

             Discreetly, he taps his neck with his index finger. You pause, confused for a moment before remembering the thick, black collar around your neck. You must be getting used to it to have forgotten it so easily. Hastily, you unclasp the buckle, leaving it on the dining table as you pass.

             As you move through the entryway, you notice the dogs poised in the hall, ears perked, tense. Asa holds up a fist and immediately, they sit. He snakes his arm around your waist, fingers squeezing your hip as you he leads you out onto the front deck. An elderly couple, maybe mid-seventies, stand at the bottom of the porch steps. Their eyes widen upon seeing you.

             “Well, hello!” says the man, Bob, presumably, “Bit younger than I thought you’d be—

             Bob shuts his mouth when his wife elbows him. She smiles kindly and moves up the steps to extend her hand.

             “I’m Marilyn, and this loudmouth is my husband, Bob. Welcome to the neighborhood. We’re so happy Asa finally decided to settle down.” You try your best to rein in your expression. Settle down, huh? They have no idea.

             “Happy to be here,” you chirp, smiling up at Asa. You’re struck dumb by the warm smile he flashes back at you. You’ve only ever seen smirks, half smiles with cold, hard eyes, but this one lights up his face and makes your heart stutter.

             “Well, I better get going or I’m going to be late for work. See you tonight,” Asa presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head and you have to grit your teeth to keep your jaw from falling open in shock. Belatedly you smile after him, waving to the neighbors and hurrying inside, remembering what he’d said about the dogs.

             Falling back into the kitchen chair, you stare at the table, stunned. Asa really just lives two different lives and no one is the wiser. Belatedly, you wonder what he does for work. Do you dare ask?

             Better to finish your to-do list first. You’ll have time to think later.

*

             All Asa’s instructions are perfectly detailed, except the last one: Dinner. It’s just one word written in his flourishing script. Good thing you know how to cook.

             The pantry and refrigerator are well stocked, thankfully. It isn’t difficult to put together something decent. You’ve even found the ingredients for cookies. You hate the part of you that wants to impress him, but here you are, sliding a baking sheet into the oven covered in dollops of your grandmother’s chocolate chip cookie recipe.

             As if on cue, you hear the front door handle rattle. Instantly, you’re on edge, heart leaping up into your throat. Quickly, you scan over the list of chores, making sure you’d completed everything exactly how it is written. You’d hate to disappoint him your first day here. What if he sends you back to the trunk?

             When the clunking of boots on hardwood reaches your ears you spin around, smoothing the front of your dress and nervously looking at your hands. Do you kneel here? You’re not sure if the same rules he’d established at his…museum carry over to his home.

             “G-Good timing, dinner is—

             Your words die in your throat when your eyes meet his. Asa stands in the doorway, dark eyes pinning you to the spot with the intensity of his stare. There’s so much heat in his gaze it ignites a fire in your own belly until you’re biting your lip to stifle a whine.

             He’s across the room in three long strides, hand tangling in your hair and tipping your head back so he can crush his lips against yours. You mewl into his mouth and accept the tongue that prods against your own. Asa’s other hand goes to your lower back, pulling you in until you’re flush against his solid frame.

             “You were good today, weren’t you?” he states quietly against your parted lips. It’s phrased like a question, but he seems to already know the answer. You nod anyway, face burning under his scrutiny.

             Immediately, you’re spun around and shoved against the counter. Asa’s hands slip under your skirt, pushing it up to your waist, thumbs skimming along the flesh of your ass, across your hips, down your thigh until he’s dipping between your legs. Your breath hitches when his fingers tease through your underwear. His teeth find your neck, softly biting the spot just under your ear until you twitch and sigh, gingerly pushing back against him.

             Asa responds with another bite, harder this time, a quite growl in his throat. You whimper and his fingers dip into your underwear, gathering wetness from your dripping slit before gently stroking your clit. The movements of his digits are timed perfectly so your legs are trembling in minutes, hands gripping the counter for support.

             “A-Asa, I-I, please, I—

             He sinks his teeth into your neck hard enough to make you shriek. His other hand flies to your lips, two fingers pushing roughly into mouth until you gag. He keeps them there and grinds against your clit with the other hand, perfect little circles of pressure until your knees snap together and you arch, eyes scrunching shut as warmth explodes in your core.

             You’ve yet to come down from your high when you hear the clink of a belt, the slide of a zipper. Asa pushes on your back until you bend at the waist. He wastes no time in thrusting into your still spasming cunt, your squeal muffled by the fingers in your throat.

             Spit drips past your lips and trickles down your chin as Asa fucks you into the countertop. Every harsh pump of his hips brings a high moan up from your throat. You beg for more, words indistinguishable from screams as another orgasm builds.  

             His hand goes to your throat, making you arch more so he’s hitting that perfect spot within you. Three thrusts in and you’re done for, screaming around his fingers, cunt clamping down on the cock battering your slick muscles. Asa groans through clenched teeth, bucking into you a few more times before reaching his own end, coating your twitching cunt in hot white.

             Warm, panting breaths tickle your ear and he commands, “Say it.”

             “I-I love you. Thank you, S-Sir.”

             Your knees nearly buckle when he releases you. You cling to the counter, half-turning to face him. Immediately, he scoops you into his arms, whisking you from the kitchen and making his way to the stairs.

             “Um, dinner—

             Asa shushes you. You bite your lip. If the look on his face is anything to go by, you’re in for a long night.

[eliemo]

The Worst Thing in the World

Summary: Everyone knows Virgil needs to be handled a little different. He might not like it, but that’s the way it is, and living with the light sides won’t change that. After all, it’s common sense. Right? 

Notes: So this is a lot longer and sadder than I planned on but i tend to get carried away. All main 6 sides are sympathetic here. 

TWs: Talk of physical violence, implied abuse (past) Sympathetic/morally gray Remus and Janus but Unsympathetic unnamed characters 

Part Two: Getting There

Virgil paused outside the closed door, holding his breath and listening, ensuring everything was silent for what had to be the hundredth time. 

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to even make it down the hall. 

But everything was quiet. Logan was with Thomas working on the schedule for the week and should be occupied for a while. It was fine. Virgil could slip in and out and no one would ever know. 

He really shouldn’t be pushing his luck like this. They’d been so...so ridiculously nice to him since he’d tried to duck out, and it had been everything he’d wanted for longer than he knew how to say. 

They were welcoming, understanding, and patient. And most of the time, he was able to convince himself it was genuine. That they were all trying. 

And yeah, he knew it wouldn’t always be this good. He was still getting used to all of this, to being a part of things, so they were cutting him some slack. Letting him adjust. Giving him time to get comfortable. 

Honestly, at times it was a bit painfully obvious how hard they were trying, especially considering how far from perfect he’d been despite his best efforts. 

They’d let far too many things go in favor of getting Virgil to relax. Things that never would slide if he’d been around longer. 

 He’d put a clean glass in the wrong cabinet after his first dinner with the light sides, and Patton had only smiled, quickly corrected him, and moved on. 

He’d accidentally spilled his drink on the table, and Roman had just shut down his string of prepared apologies with an almost odd smile before actually offering to clean it up himself. 

(Virgil had, of course, shut the offer down. He knew what they were doing, pretending his mistakes could be overlooked, but it didn’t mean he was useless. He was still trying to be good)

Virgil had even bumped right into Logan the other day, moving too fast through the darkened hallway in his haste to get to his room, causing the logical side to stumble and drop some papers he’d been holding. Virgil hadn’t even gotten a chance to open his mouth before Logan had gracefully picked up the papers, gently told Virgil to slow down, and continued on his way. 

It was...really kind of sweet, once he realized what they were doing. They knew he was wary, knew he wanted this so badly. So they were giving him extra chances, careful to be gentle as he settled in, not wanting him to duck out again. 

But now, weeks later, things had been changing. Not in a bad way, of course. Far from it. Things were just...more comfortable. More familiar. He was actually starting to feel like a part of their family, like maybe he could actually belong, and the others seemed to actually agree, gradually relaxing in his presence. 

Of course, it also meant all those extra chances wouldn’t be handed out freely anymore. He couldn’t expect to get away with things so easily now that he was settled in. 

Which was why he really shouldn’t be sneaking into Logan’s room. 

He was just...he needed something to do. His anxiety had been through the roof since he’d woken up, making him antsy and restless, and with the others busy all day he hadn’t had an outlet since breakfast. 

He’d noticed Logan had been lost in a book for the past few days, rambling on about it a bit once he was finished that morning, and while Virgil couldn’t exactly remember any details, something about the title and general idea had piqued his interest. Or maybe he was just desperate at this point. 

It had been a while since he’d been able to get into a good book, but it usually did help him calm down. 

And of course he could just ask Logan but...he could all too easily picture the logical side mocking the request or turning him down without question, and while Virgil knew it was unrealistic, he couldn’t muster up the courage. 

But it was fine. He knew what the cover looked like, he’d find the book, read it alone in his room, and return it when he got the chance. 

Easy. 

Except...well, that thought went right out the window as soon as he actually stepped inside. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming with how much Logan valued literature. 

He just hadn’t expected Logan’s bookshelf to be so big. 

Jesus, how many books could a guy even read? Logan barely even had any free time as it was. His library took up an entire wall, floor to ceiling, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever seen so many books in his entire life. It was like something out of the fantasy stories Logan liked to deny enjoying. 

Virgil knew he should turn back. He was still trespassing, and there was no way he’d find the specific book he was looking for in the limited time he had. 

But...maybe the specific book didn’t even matter. He could find something to read, maybe even a few, just to keep him occupied until Logan was distracted in a few days and he could return them. 

He carefully shut the door behind him, waiting a moment like Logan would pop up at any moment, and carefully approached the shelf.

They were all clearly meticulously organized, first by genre, then author in alphabetical order, and Virgil wondered how long it had taken Logan to do. 

He scanned the genres: fiction, nonfiction, historical fiction, sci-fi, textbooks, articles…

There was a brief moment of panic as he ran his finger along some of the book’s spines, frantically wondering if he would even be able to put it back in the right place, and what Logan would do if he found out Virgil had stolen-- 

“Greetings, Virgil.” 

Virgil jumped so hard his shoulder slammed into the edge of the shelf, fear and realization hitting full force as two books toppled over and fell to the ground, leaving behind silence louder than a gunshot. 

Virgil was frozen like a deer in headlights, gaze locked on Logan who was giving the fallen books a quizzical look. 

“Apologies for startling you,” he said, which was not how Virgil was expecting this to start, but it was almost worse than the anger he knew was coming. “I hadn’t expected you to be in here.” 

Virgil tried not to flinch, legs feeling like jello, panicked mind running through endless possibilities of how this was going to go. He’d seen Logan angry, of course, heard him yell, seen him lose himself to frustrated rants. 

It was impossible to know for sure how Logan would handle this, though. Handle him. He would want to discover the best method for a lasting impression, right? He’d probably been waiting to experiment different responses. 

“Virgil?”

“Sorry,” Virgil said quickly, realizing he’d gone silent. “Sorry, I wasn’t...um, I wasn’t stealing. I-I know how it looks but I promise I was gonna bring them back I was just...I-I knew you were busy so…” 

He trailed off, heart sinking when it occurred to him just how guilty he sounded. He was a thief whether he was going to return them or not, and here he was, babbling like a scared child in front of the evidence. 

He swallowed, knowing there was no way out of it. He shouldn’t be trying to make excuses. “S-sorry.” 

He couldn’t meet Logan’s eyes, but he saw the logical side take a cautious step forward. “You were...oh, the books. Virgil, if you were interested in borrowing some reading material you could have simply asked.” 

Virgil did flinch this time, the reminder like a punch to the gut. God, why couldn’t he have just asked. A few seconds of anxiety and a bit of awkwardness would have been worth avoiding this. 

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he sneak around and steal from the people he tried so hard to earn the trust of? 

“I...I know,” he managed. “I just...sorry. I shouldn’t have, um, yeah. I know I shouldn’t have snuck in.” 

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Logan said, the blood rushing to Virgil’s ears as he came closer, voice nearly drowned out by his own racing heart. “It can hardly be considered sneaking- you do live here. Besides, I’ve read most of these already so you are welcome to--” 

At the moment, all Virgil registered was Logan’s presence now beside him, and the hand moving forward just in the corner of his vision. 

He was moving before he had the chance to even think about it, crumpling to the ground out of Logan’s reach, hands moving to protect his face, hunching his shoulders and waiting for the blow. 

The blow that...that didn’t come. 

“Virgil.” 

Virgil flinched at his voice, biting his tongue to keep from whimpering. He could feel Logan standing above him, annoyed even more now, no doubt. What was he waiting for? 

“Virgil,” he said again, softer this time. “Will you look at me, please?” 

Oh. Oh, of course. Logan wouldn’t want to punish Virgil if he wasn’t sure the anxious side was even aware enough to understand. He wanted Virgil to see what he deserved.

He got that. He understood. 

So he nodded, hating how hard it was, digging his nails into his palm when he felt himself growing dangerously close to hyperventilating. He wouldn’t let himself fall under a panic attack. He wouldn’t hurt Thomas because of this. 

Virgil slowly raised his head, realizing idly that he was shaking. His throat felt tight, eyes burning, and Virgil kind of wished he could just hit himself. 

God, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t. He’d known what he was doing, knew all too well what would happen if he fucked it up, and he had (of course he had). 

He deserved this. It was fine. 

He was, however, mildly surprised to find Logan lowered to his level, the logical side crouched down on the balls of his feet, watching Virgil with an almost worried frown. 

“Take some deep breaths, please,” he said. “I was only going to help you pick the books up off the floor. I apologize if I moved too quickly.” 

Virgil shook his head, clenching his jaw to keep the teas at bay, not even sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Why the hell was Logan apologizing? 

“It’s...it’s whatever,” he managed. “Sorry for, uh, you know. F-freaking out like...like that.” 

“It’s quite alright.”

Virgil took a shaky breath, realizing Logan’s silence was probably him waiting to make sure he wasn’t about to send Virgil over the edge in any way that could affect Thomas.

His heart was in no way slowing, dread and apprehension rising unbearably but...but the waiting was only going to make it worse, the anticipation sickening. Best to get it over with. 

“Alright,” he said, almost impressed with how steady his voice came out. “I’m ready.” 

Virgil expected something to happen right then and there. He was less than prepared for the hesitation followed by...nothing? 

“Ready?” Logan echoed. “Ready for...what?” 

Virgil forced himself the shrug, still not able to quite reach Logan’s eyes, struggling to maintain nonchalance he didn’t feel in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “However, uh...however you wanted to do it, I guess. Whatever you’re gonna do.” 

A beat of silence and Virgil remained tense, bracing himself, willing himself to relax and take it. But all that happened was Logan awkwardly clearing his throat, leaning back on his heels. 

“Well,” he said. “I...had only planned on replacing the fallen books and assisting you in picking out some things to read.” 

Virgil nodded, blinking furiously to push back tears fighting to break through. “Ok? Uh, you mean...before or-or after?” 

“I’m...I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Logan admitted, incredibly out of character. “Have I missed something? What...exactly do you believe is happening?” 

Virgil wasn't exactly sure why that mattered. Was this...was this part of it? Making sure he understood? 

“Uhm, I-I broke into your room? I mean...I know I shouldn’t have taken your stuff without asking. I know...I know that’s not ok. I’m sorry.” 

He saw Logan tilt his head slightly, frown deepening. “It really is not an issue, Virgil. My books aren’t exactly locked away. I would only prefer you ask next time so I do not end up startling you, but you’re reacting as if I--” 

He stopped himself, and Virgil saw the moment realization dawned, something in Logan’s expression hardening. 

Oh. Of course. Logan hadn’t been sure Virgil would know something like this was coming. 

But he did, of course. He understood, as much as he hated it. He was anxiety, there wasn’t any other way to handle him. There wasn’t a choice. 

“Ah,” Logan said, softer than before. “I see.” 

Virgil nodded again, heart still racing so fast he thought Logan might be able to hear it, glad that now they could at least get it over with. 

But Logan still wasn’t moving, still talking in that achingly gentle voice. “Virgil, I have no intention of harming you in any way. I’m not even remotely upset with you.” 

And that...that didn’t make any sense. Virgil had literally just gone into someone else’s room without permission, and Logan had just said he’d prefer to be asked so why--?

Unless...unless he was being given another chance. Again. Another chance he didn’t deserve in favor of over the top friendliness. 

“Don’t,” he said, before he could even consider stopping himself. “Don’t keep doing this, Logan, please I...it’s ok, you guys don’t have to keep pretending. I know you’re angry, I know--” 

“I’m not angry,” Logan interrupted, firm but somehow still gentle, and Virgil shrank back. “I believe we have a larger issue to discuss as a group but for now please understand that I am not angry with you. And even if I was, I would never intentionally bring you any harm. I know for a fact the others would not either.” 

Virgil shook his head, hating all of this, hating feeling small and pitied, hated delaying the inevitable like things could work any other way. 

He hated the treacherous, nagging hope in his chest. 

“But they will,” he insisted. “You all will, I know you're just...waiting to make sure I won’t leave again but I won’t. I know it's how it works, ok? It’s fine.” 

The lie tasted like acid on his tongue. But some of it was true, at least. He wouldn’t try to leave again. He was finally feeling like a part of things. And if he was good, well...maybe that could last. 

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Virgil was just beginning to think he’d finally managed to convince him to set the pity aside when he was speaking again.

“Virgil, do you think you could accompany me to the commons? I believe it is imperative to discuss this with the others.” 

Virgil froze, realizing he may have just made a simple situation worse by raising his voice. Did Logan really need to get everyone? It was bad enough that just Logan was upset with him but all of them...

But he knew better than to risk any further anger by arguing. And Logan was carefully offering a hand, palm up, no sudden movements or pain when Virgil hesitantly took it and was helped to his feet, so maybe...maybe Logan wasn’t actually angry. 

Not right now, at least. 

Logan led them down the hallway to the living room, Virgil unable to stop his trembling the entire time, legs a bit unsteady and weak. He almost wished the short walk took longer, dread building up in his gut the closer he got like a man being led to the gallows. 

He had to remind himself to breathe when he saw both Patton and Roman already there, lounging casually, all smiles amid easy conversation. 

Logan cleared his throat, Virgil left to shift awkwardly beside him, the other two sides immediately glancing up with bright, welcoming smiles. 

Virgil felt guilt twist in his gut at having to ruin that. 

“I believe,” Logan started. “That we need to have a...family meeting, as Patton might call it. There’s been a bit of a miscommunication that needs clearing up.” 

“Everything alright?” Roman asked as Patton, cheerful as ever, waved them both over. Logan didn’t answer, and Virgil was too busy staring at the ground to think of a reply. 

He ended up being seated on the couch beside Roman, Patton sitting across from him and Logan standing at the arm of the couch. For a moment nobody spoke, Roman and Patton clearly at a loss. 

“Virgil,” Logan prompted. “Would you mind telling the others what happened from your point of view?” 

Virgil’s eyes widened, head snapping up to look at Logan with something almost like betrayal, and any hope he’d had that this was going to be forgiven without consequences suddenly vanished. 

But Logan was quick to reassure him, hand moving to rest against Virgil’s clenched fist. “I assure you, nothing about my previous statements will change. I only want to ensure they have all the context.” 

Virgil shakily nodded, like he had any choice in the matter, trying not to wince when his voice came out small and breathy when he finally spoke. 

“I...I went into Logan’s room,” he admitted, waiting for yelling that never came. “While he was with Thomas. I-I was looking for something to read but-but I was going to give it back, I promise, I wasn’t stealing I was just too anxious to ask, so I--” 

“Wait,” Roman interjected, curiosity turning to something close to amusement. “That’s all you did? I steal from Logan all the time!” 

Logan blinked. “You what?” 

“Kiddos,” Patton chided, unable to help the small smile on his lips. “Now we usually don’t go into people’s rooms without asking but I’m sure Logan understood. What’s this all about?” 

Virgil suddenly had absolutely no idea how to respond, this entire conversation now taking a much different turn than he’d expected. 

What the hell was happening? Was this...part of it? It sure felt like he was being punished, but Patton’s smile was as genuine as ever. 

Logan leaned forward, furrowing his brow. 

“Virgil can you tell us what you believe is going to happen to you? What you thought was happening when I found you?” 

Virgil, far too lost to do anything but comply blindly, couldn’t understand why Patton and Roman suddenly looked so confused. 

“I was...I was going to be punished, right?” He didn’t understand the purpose of making him explain something everyone already knew. “I mean, Logan said he wasn’t mad so I guess I’m getting another chance but any other time I would’ve--” 

“Wait a minute, what?” It was Roman’s turn to sound baffled, all his attention now focused solely on Virgil. “Punished? What do you mean, like- like grounding you? You aren’t a child, Virge.” 

“I do not think that’s what he meant.” 

“But he...Logan, he--” 

“Virgil believed,” Logan cut him off, sounding more hesitant than Virgil had ever heard him. “That some type of...physical punishment was inevitable. At least, that is what I gathered.”  

“You think we’re going to hit you?” Patton’s voice, verging on frantic, easily overpowered the others. “Over this? Over anything?” 

Virgil flinched back against the couch, desperately trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, how he’d managed to make this so much worse than it was just five minutes ago. 

“I don’t...I'm sorry?” 

“We’re not going to punish you, kiddo,” he said, the word ‘punish’ almost spat out like something sour. “We’d never do that to you! Never.” 

And oh, that was Patton, trying so hard to be kind, even when he was so visibly furious. Looking out for all of them to the end. Careful not to let Virgil’s emotions affect Thomas. 

“You guys don’t have to keep doing this.” 

Patton blinked, trying and failing to get Virgil to meet his eyes. “Keep doing what, kiddo?” 

“I’m not gonna duck out again,” he said, the smile he offered meant to be reassuring but he was certain it was wobbly and frail. “I-I like it here. With you guys. You don’t need to keep...cutting me all this slack. I know I keep messing up and I know if this is going to...work I have to be--” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

Roman’s language wasn’t even corrected, Patton hardly acknowledging the outburst at all, but the moral side looked somehow just as furious. 

And there it was, genuine fear and panic returning with a vengeance, the sudden knowledge that he’d probably done irreversible damage in an effort to reassure them. 

“Kiddo you...what is it that you think you’ve done wrong? You’re not...oh my god, you’re not talking about the little things, are you? Spills or- or misplacing something or...or…” 

“I- yeah?” Because what else would he be talking about? “I’ve been...I’ve been trying to be good, so I-I don’t think I’ve done anything else to--” 

“Is that how you think we handle things?” Roman was rigid beside him, his fury overwhelming, and Virgil hoped one of them would hurry up and just knock him unconscious. “So, what? If Logan drops something am I just supposed to hit him?” 

“Roman,” Logan said, sounding oddly choked. “Please.” 

And oh. Oh. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, and Virgil realized all at once why they were so upset with him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just a stupid misunderstanding. 

Oh, god. 

“No!” He insisted, voice a little stronger in his desperation for them to understand their mistake. “No, of course not! That’s not...guys, that's not what I meant.” 

The tension in the room dropped a bit, Prince relaxing just slightly, but three pairs of eyes were still watching, painfully concerned. 

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you thought that,” Virgil continued, a little lightheaded. “Not you guys, never you guys. Obviously not, you all wouldn’t...you shouldn’t be punished like that. Ever. I promise I was just talking about me.” 

He expected relief, understanding, and hopefully to just get this whole thing over with so they could hurry up and go back to normal. 

But apparently he’d only managed to make everyone even more distressed. Logan and Roman’s eyes had gone wide and Patton...Patton had tears streaming down his face. 

“Why would you think that?” It was quiet, barely a whisper, but Virgil had never heard Patton sound so furious, so cold and lifeless. 

“I...I don’t know why you’re--” 

“Virgil why would you think that?” Patton was standing now, taking a step away from the couch with a hand moving to cover his mouth. Logan reached for his shoulder, only to be quickly shrugged off. 

“Patton, please attempt to calm down.” 

“But he...he said...why, Virge? Why just you?” 

Virgil blinked, fighting to swallow past the lump in his throat, still hopelessly lost to what he’d managed to do wrong. Did they...not know? Even Logan? Wasn’t it just...common sense? 

“It’s...because it’s me?” he offered weakly. “I-I’m anxiety. I tend to- to mess things up, guys. I have to be, you know, dealt with differently so it doesn't affect Thomas as much, right?”

He was met only with deafening silence, before Logan cleared his throat, looking for once like he wasn’t entirely sure what he should be saying. 

“That hardly seems logical,” he said, no malice behind it. “How would punishing you more severely do anything but succeed in making your mental state worse?” 

“I...I don’t know. But it works. It makes me more...cautious. You guys haven’t really had to deal with me and my fuck ups before but now that I’m here you’ll have to...I just uh, figured you knew this, I guess. I thought everyone did.” 

“No,” Roman said, hardly audible at all. “We didn’t.” 

Oh. Well...at least it was out now. Virgil may not like it, but he knew getting hurt sometimes was necessary. If it made their lives better, it was worth it in the long run. 

But still…

The thought that if he’d only known, realized sooner that their willingness to let things go and love him unconditionally really was genuine, he could have maybe lived without the fear of punishment for the first time in so long. 

So much for that. All he’d done now was manage to make them angry, and he honestly wasn’t even sure what he’d done to make them all so upset.  

“Who told you that?” Roman asked, Virgil wincing despite himself. “Was it...if it was my brother--” 

“It wasn’t,” Virgil said, not really sure if that was the answer Roman wanted, but it was the truth. Remus and Janus had never been the ones to use any sort of physical violence on him, though Virgil never had any doubt that they could. “It was the others. I...they told me...I really thought you guys knew.” 

Now, looking at it from a suddenly concerning perspective, he wasn’t even sure Remus or Janus had known. 

“Sorry,” Virgil said to the silence, not even sure why anymore. “It wasn’t always that bad. That’s why I asked Logan, I wasn’t sure how you guys...uh, planned on doing it but apparently you didn’t even know you had to so we can--” 

And suddenly Patton was gone, stalking through the kitchen doorway, practically leaving behind a visible trail of utter fury as he went, and Logan was following with one last worried glance over his shoulder. 

Oh god, they were both mad. He’d managed to upset everyone, ruin everything in one conversation, and he couldn’t even apologize properly because he still didn’t know what he’d done wrong. 

He’d just been trying to tell them it was ok, that there was no other way to deal with him, that it really wasn’t that big of a deal. He hated it, sure. It terrified him. He wanted so badly for it to stop but it couldn’t, it…

It couldn’t. Could it? 

He felt Roman shift on the couch, probably to hurry and follow the others into the kitchen to get away from the mess on the couch they’d accidentally welcomed into their family. 

Before he could stop himself Virgil was reaching forward, grabbing Roman’s sleeve with a weak, trembling hand. 

“Please.” And there was absolutely no point in trying to hide the unsteady wobble of his voice. “Will you...I-I just don’t know what I did wrong.” 

“Oh, Virgil.” 

When Prince moved, there was a split second of blind panic where Virgil thought he was being attacked. But it faded as soon as he registered strong arms around him, pulling him against Roman’s chest, and Virgil immediately burst into tears. 

Roman was shushing him gently, holding him tight but somehow not uncomfortably confining, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he muttered quiet reassurances. 

Virgil could only sob into his chest, overtaken by hiccuping gasps that left him dizzy and weak and unable to stop. 

And yet he was distantly aware that through his tears he hadn’t stopped his string of endless apologies, the desperate words falling without his permission. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Roman said, impossibly soft. “You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I-I ma-made him mad,” he insisted, breath catching on nearly every word as he tried in vain to calm down enough to speak properly. “Patton, I-I...h-he was mad, he’s upset and he’s...he’ll--” 

“Patton isn’t angry,” Roman said. “He’s just a little upset. But not at you! You haven’t done anything.” 

“But I…” he paused, aware enough to consider the words before he said them, how utterly unfair and selfish they were. But maybe…

“I don’t want you guys to hurt me.” 

“We would never,” Roman said, holding tighter without hesitation. “I know you won’t believe this right away, and you’ll need to hear it from the others too, but just listen to me for now, ok?” 

Roman pulled back, but only slightly. Virgil could still feel the Prince's heart beneath his own shaking fingers, and the creative side carefully cupped Virgil’s face in his hands. 

“Nobody will ever hurt you again, Virgil. Nobody. I know we’ve only recently become friends, but I swear to you, for the rest of your life, you never have to be afraid of that again. Not from me, not from the others. Not from anyone.” 

Virgil struggled to breathe, chest aching, lungs screaming for air, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “But they...you have to th-they said--” 

“They were lying,” Princey said, with so much venom Virgil had to forcibly remind himself that Roman wasn’t angry with him. “You heard Logan, it doesn’t make sense. No one should...you didn’t deserve that, Virge.” 

But...but he’d...all this time he’d just…

“Patton will you please--” 

“No, Logan! I can’t I- did you hear him?” 

Patton and Logan were still in the next room over, and Virgil could now just make out the two of them standing at the threshold. He forced himself not to whimper at the obvious anger that came from both of them, but didn’t stop himself from clutching at Roman tighter, beyond grateful when Princey did the same. 

“I did,” Logan said. “I was standing right there. But Patton--” 

“How could they…god, how could they just--?” 

“Patton.” Logan hadn’t yelled, not exactly, but it was loud and stern enough to quiet the other’s rant. “I know. I understand that you’re upset- we all are. But right now Virgil thinks you’re upset with him.” 

Virgil’s breath hitched in the sudden silence that followed, doing his best to focus instead on Roman’s breathing, feeling the Prince move to rub along Virgil’s back, still hushing and whispering quiet reassurances. 

He cringed when he heard a tiny gasp followed quickly by two pairs of footsteps making their way towards the couch, and he wondered just how far Roman would have to go to keep his promise. 

“Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” That was Patton’s voice right above him, soft and sad and...and no longer quite so angry. “Honey...can you look at me please?” 

Virgil tensed, reluctantly moving his head away from Roman’s chest, face burning as he let the others see his tear stained face, heart clenching when he realized Patton wasn’t much better off.  

“Sorry,” Virgil whispered, guided more on frantic instinct than anything else. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Patton reached forward, slow and nonthreatening, lacing his fingers with Virgil’s. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, kiddo. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. We would never do that.” 

And god, Virgil wanted so badly to believe that, to hold onto every word, every sympathetic gaze, everything that was so clearly real love rather than pity and never let it go. 

He wanted to feel safe with them. He wanted it more than anything. 

But...but they had all been angry. He’d seen it just moments ago, heard the unmistakable fury in their voices. 

And maybe he’d spoken aloud without realizing, or maybe Logan was just exceptionally good at reading him, because suddenly the logical side was crouched beside Patton, carefully meeting Virgil’s watery eyes. 

“We were not angry at you,” he said slowly. “We’re only angry at whoever thought it was alright to hurt you. Who made you think you could ever deserve it.” 

 “But I…” he didn’t know why he was arguing, why he was frantically searching for reasons to destroy something he wanted to desperately. He settled for the only reason he’d ever really been given. “I’m anxiety.” 

“You do represent Thomas’s fears, yes,” Logan said. “As well as many other fundamental functions.”  

“That doesn’t make you bad, kiddo,” Patton chimed in.  “We love you. All of you. We’re all gonna mess up sometimes, and that’s ok. Mistakes are part of being human.” 

“Well technically we are not human,” Logan pointed out, earning an exasperated sigh from Roman. “But Patton’s point still stands. Each and every one of us will make mistakes. That is, of course, why we have each other. Not to punish, but to assist each other.” 

And that...wow, that sounded good. Impossibly good. God, how did he manage to surround himself with the kindest people in the universe? 

“But what if I…” he swallowed, trying to figure out how to phrase his worries. “If I do something wrong, like...like really bad--” 

“Then we will discuss it as a group,” Logan said. “And work together to determine what happened and how to fix it without any lasting negative effects. Not just for Thomas, but for all of us.” 

“Indeed!” Roman agreed with his usual flair, reaching around to lightly squeeze Patton and Virgil’s intertwined fingers. “And if any of the others attempt to bring you harm again, they’ll have to get through me first!” 

“All of us,” Patton said, wiping his eyes with his free hand and flashing Princey a grateful smile. “We won’t let that happen to you again.” 

Virgil shrugged, overwhelmed, aware the gesture did nothing to mask the emotion in his eyes. “It’s...it’s really ok, you guys. They aren’t like you, they were just...doing what they thought they had to.” 

Logan frowned, averting his gaze. “Unlikely.” 

“That doesn’t make it ok,” Patton said before Virgil could question exactly what that meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “And we can see it left you really afraid, kiddo.” 

“I-I guess. Yeah.” 

“Sometimes talking about traumatic experiences can be the first step to moving past them,” Logan said. “And we will, of course, be willing to listen and help however we can.” 

Virgil... didn’t really want to talk about. He still wasn't quite able to wrap his head around the fact that it wasn’t a necessity, never actually had been, a part of him still wholly convinced this was some kind of cruel, awful trick. 

But...but Logan was looking at him with such gentle earnestness, Roman and Patton both nodding and smiling in gentle encouragement, those doubts were quickly being pushed to the side. At least for now. 

They all looked so eager to help, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to shut them down the way his panicked brain, so used to isolation, was screaming at him to do. 

And besides, maybe it could help. Maybe talking would help him come to terms with...whatever it really was that had happened. 

But not right now. He wasn't sure he could handle anything else. 

“Maybe,” he said after a moment. “Just, uh...not now. I don’t...I mean, i-if that’s ok, I don’t think I’m...ready.” 

“Of course, sweetie,” Patton said, not sounding disappointed in the slightest, only understanding and patient. “Whenever you’re ready. You can come to us in your own time.” 

“Is there...anything we can do for you now?” Roman asked. “Anything to make you feel better?” 

“I guess, uh-” he paused, wondering if it was too much, too selfish a thing to ask. “Maybe just...stay here for a bit? All of us? Only if- if you aren’t busy, obviously, it’s ok if you are, I just thought maybe--” 

“I think that is an excellent suggestion, Virgil,” Logan said. “Having some company will do you good.” 

Patton practically squealed, squeezing Virgil’s hand before hurrying to his feet,  blinding smile on his face. “Ooh! We can make some snacks and bring some blankets over! Be right back!” 

Virgil was carefully maneuvered (probably a bit overly careful, like he was glass that could shatter at any moment) so he was now comfortably pressed against Logan’s side, Roman hurrying to follow Patton with promises to return in seconds, departing with a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. 

Virgil was almost surprised when Logan’s arm moved to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close, almost as protective and warm as Roman. He’d have thought Logan would be more averse to physical content. 

He’d never been so glad to be mistaken, basking in the warmth like it was a sunlit room. 

Virgil took a breath, breathing a bit easier now. “I really am sorry. I probably...really freaked you out, huh?” 

“No apologies necessary,” Logan said. “I believe it’s safe to say you were much more...err, freaked out, as you would say.” 

Virgil smiled, relaxing into his hold, but there was still something heavy sitting in his chest, nagging at him to voice it aloud. 

“I feel like an idiot.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

“But I do.” He didn’t move, terrified he’d lose his nerve without the warmth at his side. “I...it was stupid. All of this. I actually thought that...I still don’t really think that this can work. Without...doing all that when I screw up. I want to but it’s...I thought there wasn’t any other way.” 

“There is no reason for you to be held to a different standard than anyone else,” Logan said, slow and careful. “We plan only on treating you as an equal. As someone we care very much for.” 

“I should have known,” he muttered. “You guys are r-really...really great. I shouldn’t have accused you of that.” 

There was a beat of silence that stretched on just a moment too long, and any other time Virgil might have taken that as a perfectly reasonable excuse to begin panicking all over again. 

But with Logan’s protective hold still firmly around him, the easy warmth in his chest that lingered from everyone’s kind words...he couldn’t find it in him to be particularly worried over Logan taking a moment to think. 

“You did not accuse us of anything,” the logical side said, continuing before Virgil could argue. “You reacted to what you assumed to be normal, no one can fault you for that. You’ve been taught to have a very particular mindset. As...upsetting as it is, your reaction was perfectly logical based on the information you had.” 

Logan’s arm moved, just for a moment, to reach around and squeeze Virgil’s hand, just like Patton and Roman had done, just another reminder of newfound safety. 

“What we need to do now,” Logan said. “Is work on making sure you never feel that way again.” 

Virgil nodded against him, finding that, at least for the moment,  his want to believe, to be safe and welcomed, was enough to outweigh the storm of doubt in his racing mind. 

“Ok,” he said, glancing up just in time to see Logan’s relieved smile, loosening his hold as Roman and Patton hurried back to the living room. “Thank you.” 

As the four of them settled down and rearranged themselves, there was an all too familiar burning in Virgil’s eyes, a tight twisting in his chest. But this time, it wasn’t from panic or fear.

This time, if he cried from this feeling, from being content and accepted, it might not be the worst thing in the world. 

[crayonwriting]

Dad! This is so much fun!

series masterlist

"Katsumi-chan, shall we go out?" Atsumu went to her room, leaning against the doorway. His daughter was busy playing with her toys when her father came. She flashed him one of her adorable smiles and agreed to a day out. *** It took Atsumu a while to get Hiroku dressed and  get him situated in the baby carrier. He made sure that the straps were perfect and the buckles, closed completely. Hiroku wiggled slightly, settling himself comfortably in the baby carrier and against his father's chest. Atsumu also brought with him a small backpack of things he thought they'd need for a day out. "Are ya good to go princess?" Atsumu asked. Katsumi nodded gripping the straps of her own backpack. He held her hand and led her out the door. Atsumu made sure to lock them. Meanwhile, Katsumi rushed down the short hallway towards the elevators. She stood by the buttons and waited for her dad. When Atsumu caught up to her, she gave her a smile and a nod to push the 'down' button. While they waited for the elevator, Atsumu asked her, "Where do ya want to go?" "I want to go horseback riding." She raised her arms high. "Horseback ridin', huh?" Atsumu pondered on the idea just as the elevator doors opened. He held his daughter's hand as they got on. He leaned on the back wall of the elevator, ruffling Hiroku's small tufts of hair. Katsumi jumped up excitedly. "Horseback riding!" She waved her arms up and down, mimicking riding a horse. While they waited to get to the lowest floor, the elevator stopped occasionally to let other passengers on. Katsumi would greet everyone that got on and off the elevator. Some would give her compliments or ask her questions. "She is a pretty girl." To which Atsumu responded with a blushing face and beaming smile. "You're pretty." An old lady greeted Katsumi. The little girl bowed politely and thanked her with a cute smile. "How old are you?" Katsumi raised her hand and opened her palm. Despite showing the old lady five fingers, she responded that she was only four years old. The small interaction made everyone in the elevator laugh. Even when they got off, Katsumi greeted everyone in the lobby which made the people smile. *** When Katsumi mentioned she had wanted to go horseback riding, Atsumu wanted to look up ranches near Osaka but he knows that it was close to impossible. While they were on the train, just as he was about to suggest a different activity, an idea struck him and he knew where to go. The amusement park. Katsumi was already bouncing with energy as she saw the huge ferris wheel in the distance. She pulled her father towards their destination but her small frame could only do so much. Atsumu purchased the tickets and, to Katsumi's relief, they finally got inside. "Katsumi, don't run too far. Wait for me." Atsumu did his best to comfort Hiroku in his arms who was getting a bit antsy because of the heat. Good thing he had brought a small towel with him to wipe at his sweat. He also bought a bottle of water from one of the snack kiosks in the park. Hiroku sipped on the cold drink gratefully. "Papa, come here!" "Where is it?" "Here! Come here!" Katsumi glanced behind her to check of her father was following her. When she saw that he was, she ran faster towards her destination. "Oh! A merry-go-round!" Atsumu feigned shock when he caught up to her. "Ya wanted to go horseback ridin', right? There ya go!" Katsumi squealed and bounced in delight. The operator helped Katsumi onto one of the colorful horses, securing the belt around her small frame. Her backpack, which she never parts with, was set down on the floor for the mean time. "Papa, sit over there!" She pointed to the horse in front of hers. Atsumu smiled apologetically at her. "I can't ride this with ya, Katsumi- chan. I need to look after Hiroku." He said, petting the baby's head. "But we'll be here, cheerin' for ya, okay?" Katsumi's smile returned and she nodded in understanding. Atsumu's heart swelled at his daughter's smile. He couldn't help but lean down and kiss her cheek. "Do yer best princess!" Atsumu stepped out of the small merry-go-round but stayed near the railings. Just as the ride started, Katsumi cheered. Her father cheered along with her while raising Hiroku's arms in the air. She pressed her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to her papa, making him swoon. After giving love to her father, she murmured an 'I love you', and leaned down to kiss the horse. That's just how Katsumi is. Always giving kisses to her mother, father, brother and even her toys. Everytime she passed her father and brother, she would wave and say 'hi.' Atsumu would smile for her and wave his hands---with Hiroku's. "Gosh, look at yer sister, Hiroku. She looks like she's in a drama." Atsumu murmured to the baby. Hiroku just babbled in agreement. Just as Katsumi passed them, Atsumu shouted, "Katsumi-chan! Do ya love me? "What Papa?" She shouted back at him. "Do ya like me?" Atsumu chuckled. "How much do ya like me, Katsumi?" Katsumi laughed loud. Sucking in a deep breath, she screamed, "I love you so much, Papa!" She dragged the last syllable until she made a full circle on the merry-go-round. Atsumu tried his best not to cry. *** "Do ya wanna ride that one?" Katsumi immediately nodded and ran towards it. It was a small version of the pirate ship ride that swings back and forth. Atsumu had ridden one of those before and he almost puked afterwards. He learned that he shouldn't go to those types of rides with a full stomach. "Sit with me there, Papa please?" Katsumi tugged at the hem of his shirt. Atsumu pat her head and smiled sympathetically. "I can't ride with ya there, Katsumi-chan. Hiroku is too small for this, so I have to carry him." Katsumi's smile dropped a little. "But I'll watch nearby okay?" The little girl was a bit hesistant to go by herself but with a little more encouraging from Atsumu, she finally sat down. She sat her backapck down beside her as the attendant strapped her in safely. She was instructed to hold on to the metal bar in front of her and to never let go. Atsumu, who was now carrying Hiroku in his arms, waved at his daughter. "Go Katsumi-chan! Yer so brave!" The ride started slow at first before gradually swinging faster and faster. The little girl's smile grew wider as well. She felt the wind rush past her hair and face and she feels like she's flying. She laughed out loud and let out a short scream of joy. "Is it scary?" Atsumu tried asking her, despite seeing the obvious smile on her face---a clear indication that she was enjoying herself. His daughter answered with a giggle and a shake of her head. Atsumu was relieved. He waved at her, blowing her a kiss just like she did earlier. The ride soon stopped and she stepped off. She was handed her bag which she thanked the attendant for. Atsumu approached her, beaming. He raised his palm up to her. The two clapped hands in a high five. "Good job, Katsumi! Ya did so well!" He brushed the hairs away from her face and kissed her forehead. The girl basked in her father's affection. Feeling energized, she hurriedly carried her bag towards her next destination. "Let's go there next?" She pointed upwards, towards the sky. Atsumu raised an eyebrow and looked up. He felt the blood drain from his face at the ride she was referring to. The ferris wheel. *** "I'm afraid of heights." Atsumu rushed out the confession. "I really don't like rides that much; especially the ones that are high." He scratched at his cheek in embarassment. "I remember my wife asked me to ride one with her when we were in Tokyo. Of course, I had to pretend I wasn't scared." He crossed his arms against his chest and smiled smugly. After just a few seconds, he laughed at himself. "She found out easily that I was faking it." *** Katsumi excitedly walked to the entrance of the ride, following the maze. Atsumu followed behind her, albeit a little slower. He held on to Hiroku firmly, who was back in his carrier, finding comfort in his small frame. He stopped just by the entrance. "Katsumi, I don't think I can ride this." He leaned on the railings for support. His knees were already shaking. He already noticed the pout on her daughter's face. He has been rejecting riding with her for almost the whole day and he hated that he had to do it again. "I'm really scared." Katsumi pouted at her dad and pointed at the passing pods of the ferris wheel. "Ya can go by yerself."  He ushered her. "I'll just wait here." Katsumi stared ar her father. Her eyebrows were close together and her lips were bent in a pout. She held onto her bag tightly as she thought of riding the ferris wheel by herself. It was bigger than the other ones she rode earlier and she's a little bit scared. Surely, her father's presence will help her calm down. Also, she was not taking no for an answer again. "No, Papa." She looked up at him with her best version of puppy dog eyes. If her father still rejects her, she will definitely cry---and Atsumu knew this too. He tried to avert his gaze but the moment he looked into her eyes, he knew he was a goner. Letting out a sigh, he stood on the platform beside her. He squatted down to her height, careful of Hiroku. Katsumi placed a hand on Atsumu's shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. He smiled nervously at her. "I really am scared, Katsumi." "I'll be with you, papa." "Oh? Ya promise that?" Katsumi nodded and kissed her father on the cheek. Atsumu felt a short surge of bravery. *** They were all seated in one pod and as it slowly ascended, Atsumu's grip on the inner handrails tightened. Hiroku was happily gazing out the windows. Katsumi was walking around the small space, trying to see which side had a better view of the city. She started climbing one of the seats to look at the back window. "Katsumi, can ya please sit down? It's shaking." Atsumu held her arm firmly, keeping her in place as she stared at the scenery in front of her. She pointed to all the cars she sees passing by but Atsumu wasn't paying attention. He had made it his goal to keep the pod they were in as stable as possible. When she noticed a flock of birds through the window, she tried shouting to call their attention. "Hello! Birds! I'm here!" She started banging on the thick glass as if it could get the birds' attention. Atsumu quickly took hold of her fist in a panic. The way his eyes were wide was comical, not to mention his eyebrows that were curled in anxiousness and the beads of sweat pooling against his forehead. "No, no, no no no. Stop that. Ya can't punch that." Katsumi looked at her papa and she giggled loudly. "You're a scaredy-cat." "Oi, I am not!" Atsumu defended himself. This only made Katsumi laugh again as she pointed to her father. Hiroku, hearing the giggles of her sister, squealed happily as he flailed his arms and legs around. Katsumi tapped her father's forehead repeatedly while she repeated that he was a scaredy-cat. Atsumu just chuckled and tried to playfully bite her finger off. "I'm not a scaredy-cat. Yer the one who's scared." The tall man childishly let his tongue out. Just as he did that, the ride made a sudden stop, just as they were at the very top, making the pod shake a little. Atsumu flinched and closed his eyes. "Wait, wait. Wait Katsumi, don't move." He let out an exasperated laugh as Katsumi giggled. He just looked at her and made a pouting face. "I'm so dizzy, Katsumi." Katsumi leaned in and kissed her father's chin. "I will sing for you, Papa. So that you won't be scared." And just like that, she started singing the nursery rhyme you had taught her. "Mr. Soap smells nice. The smell of candy... the smell of flowers... Mama... mama's smell... Mr. Soap is Mama!  Bubbly, bubbly foam! Cute foam! Foaming, foaming Mama!" She raised her arms high with a cheer as she finished the song. She wedged herself beside Atsumu and hugged his arm. "Are you okay now, Papa?" "Yes, Katsumi-chan." He kissed the top of her hair. "I'm a little less scared now." *** They continued the rest of their day going on the less extreme rides, to Atsumu's relief. Soon enough, both kids were tuckered out and so, they all headed home after grabbing some dinner outside. When everyone was fed and full, Atsumu helped both children clean up---just Hiroku though because when Katsumi saw that her father was struggling with her brother, she did her best to clean herself. Atsumu held Hiroku in his arms while the baby nursed a bottle he had successfully prepared. He rocked the child softly while humming a tune to make him fall asleep. Meanwhile, in the living room, Katsumi was also doing the same to her toy doll. When Hiroku's eyelids started getting heavier, Atsumu climbed in to Hiroku's bed and lay him there. He lay on his side and patted Hiroku's body softly. The small child just stared at his father while he drank his milk. Atsumu tried brushing the baby's eyelids close to make him sleep. It took a few minutes before Hiroku finally succumbed to sleep. Atsumu sighed and carefully got out of the soft bed. He tiptoed across the room and made sure to close the door lightly, doing his best to be quiet. He then went to Katsumi's room to see her halfway into her house bed---she insisted on having a bed frame with walls and a small roof just like a tiny house---on the verge of passing out. "Oh, baby." He crouched down and picked her up carefully. Katsumi just blearily looked at her father before laying her head on his shoulder. "Are ya sleepy already, hm? We have to brush our teeth then I promise we'll go to sleep." She just nodded as she let herself be carried to the bathroom. Once there, she was surprisingly awake once more. Atsumu helped her brush her teeth and wash her face. He did those things simultaneously with her just like how you always do. He found it a little funny when he excessively splashed water on his face which Katsumi mimicked. All clean and ready for bed, he held her hand as they headed back to her room. "Say 'goodnight' to yer uncles." Atsumu motioned to the cameramen still in the tiny houses in their living room. "Goodnight." Katsumi whispered to the first one they passed by. She bowed respectfully and blew them a kiss. They went to the second one across the room. She bade the uncle a goodnight as well with a kiss. Atsumu gave her her own bottle of milk which Katsumi accepted as they got in her room. Atsumu knelt down to enter her house bed, carefully dragging Katsumi to the farthest side to make space for himself. She turned to her side to face her father. Putting Katsumi to sleep took longer than Hiroku. She always seemed to have an extra amount of energy despite being out and about the whole day. For a few minutes, she just babbled on to her father about all the rides she went on today as if he wasn't there. She described how the horse she rode kept telling her to have fun while they were going around. On the pirate ride, she mentioned seeing a pirate at the top of the ship. And lastly, on the ferris wheel, she told him about the birds she made friends with. Katsumi did not forget to tease Atsumu about being a scaredy cat earlier. Now, if it were Osamu who was teasing him,, he had already beaten him to a pulp. But this was his daughter, the love of his life,---besides you and Hiroku--his princess. "Yeah, I was scared. But ya protected me, Katsumi-chan." He pinched her nose, playfully. "You're my hero." The little girl beamed with her father's praise. She kissed his forehead, just like how he did to her. "I love you, Papa." "I love ya too, baby. Get some sleep." The two snuggled closer to each other while Atsumu patted her back softly to lull her to sleep. He would stop and poke her sides just for fun and she would jolt back awake with a laugh. This repeated for a couple of times before, finally, the princess was asleep. He kissed her nose before slowly getting out of the bed and out of her bedroom. *** "We just noticed. Why are they both sleeping in separate bedrooms.? "Oh, me and Y/N actually had a lot of arguments about that at first." He pursed his lips in thought. "Apparently, that's how it is overseas or somethin'. I was actually the one who suggested it. I mean, living with a twin fer years, it can be suffocatin' sometimes. And my wife read many books when we first had Katsumi and she said that babies sleep longer if they sleep in a separate bed." A smile broke out of his face and his lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "What can I say? My wife was right." *** Atsumu crashed into their couch,  letting out a loud sigh. He felt his muscles relax little by little, what with all the carrying he did. Their first day out almost felt like one of their coache's workout plans for the team. Come to think of it, he would never complain about his training ever again; not after today. He scratched at his head vigorously, feeling small tingles run throughout his whole body. He sighed once again and lay his head back on one of the pillows. "I should call her." He reached for his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and dialed your number. He counted from one, two, and on three you picked up. This made Atsumu smile. You always answered his calls an the third ring. He didn't ask you why but the always found it endearing. "'Tsumu!" The sound of your voice made the aches and pains of his whole body melt away. He found himself grinning wide out of the blue. "Hey baby." He answered. "How are the kids?" "Just got them to fall asleep. Oh, and I'm fine too, if ya wanted to know." He teased and, even if he cant see you, he knows you just rolled your eyes. "I'm glad to know you survived, babe." You giggled. "So? Do you still wanna do this? Or will this just be a special episode?" Atsumu sighed and laughed softly. He stared at the ceiling whilst shaking his head. "I really don't know, haha." He suddenly went quiet when he a thought had passed his mind. Before he could stop himself, he was already talking. "Y/N," the seriousness in his tone caught your attention, "I finally realize all the stuff ya've been through. Watching the kids on yer own. It must've been hard for ya, and I'm sorry." "That's it?" You joked but when the line was still silent, you decided to comfort his invasive thoughts. "Atsumu, baby, you don't have to apologize. Your're living your dream and we love you for it. I'll never get tired of taking care of our children so don't you worry your pretty little head, m'kay?" "I miss ya. I really miss ya, right now." Even through the phone, Atsumu can still manage to make you blush. "I miss you too, 'Tsumu." "I love ya so much. Don't forget that." "Psh. How could I when you tell me everyday?" "..." "And, yes. I love you too, Atsumu. Only you." You smiled behind the phone. "Go get some rest, okay?" "I will. Goodnight babe." "Goodnight. Mmwah!" You made a kissing sound, sending all your love to your husband. 

—

tags: @plump-peach​

A/N: OKAY. I know I promised this on the 6th but I'm...in a bad place right now. Well, my head is. But here y'all go! Gotta admit though this isn't one of my bests but I feel like I did an okay job. *pats self on back*

04.09.21

[seijorhi]

Lev pretending to be innocent in front of the reader but is actually her stalker with those cat eyes. He asks help from her and they gradually get closer until he gets her all alone in her apartment under his care

Absolutely! Lev is prime stalker material 👀 poor reader

Lev Haiba x Reader

TW stalking, manipulation

Harmless

“Don’t you think he’s just a little… I don’t know, creepy?” your best friend murmurs in a pointed tone, stirring the sugar into her coffee. 

You bite back a sigh - it’s a conversation you’ve had countless times before and it always ends the same way. You defend Lev, chastise your friend for her paranoia and distrustful nature and eventually she relents with an unconvincing ‘if you say so’. 

“He’s harmless, honestly - Lev wouldn’t hurt a fly and he’s actually very sweet once you get to know him. I don’t know why you’re so against him. He’s a good friend.”

She huffs, taking a slow sip of her drink before she replies. “Well for one, he’s like an overgrown shadow. I swear, every time we’re out together we always seem to just magically run into him, all big and looming, and he’s always staring at you like he wants to gobble you up - just you by the way, he outright ignores the rest of us peasants - it’s like he’s obsessed with you or something, and-”

She keeps talking, but honestly you kind of zone out a little bit. You can’t judge her too harshly. She’s always been protective of you, ever since you guys were kids, you suppose it’s only natural for her to be wary of Lev.

And she’s not wrong per se. You do have the strangest habit of running into Lev around town, but it’s how you met, after all - quite literally running into the 6’5” giant as you were exiting the exact same coffee shop you were currently sitting in.

Spilling your piping hot coffee all over somebody else’s sweater doesn’t usually have the makings of a burgeoning friendship but Lev had been so sweet about the whole thing, blushing and bowing, shooting apology after apology (despite the fact that it was mostly your fault) that you couldn’t help but offer to buy his drink in compensation for ruining his morning - and more importantly his clothes.

Lev, grinning brightly, had agreed with a single condition - that you joined him. And really, after pouring hot coffee all over him, it was the least you could do.

“Hey, are you even paying attention to me?!”

You jerk a little, shaking yourself out of your reverie to find your friend glaring at you. It lacks any real heat though, and she just rolls her eyes and gives a long suffering sigh. “I’m worried about you, Y/N. Didn’t you say that some of your stuff has been going missing lately?”

An old picture of you and some friends on vacation, a necklace you used to wear religiously and you could swear that you’re missing one of your favourite bras and some panties, but… sometimes stuff like that just gets misplaced - it’s not like you’re exactly the tidiest person around. 

Still, you can’t help the way that your brows furrow at her implication, “I said I misplaced some things. Are you honestly suggesting that Lev broke into my apartment to steal that stuff?” you ask with a snicker. The very idea of the silver haired giant sneaking around your tiny apartment is ridiculous!

Your friend’s pointed silence speaks volumes. 

“Oh, come on! He’s just a friend - a little excitable maybe,” and very affectionate, always swallowing you up in tight hugs, fingers constantly seeking out yours - but somehow you don’t think that part will help your case, “but he’s just a big softie.”

She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. She doesn’t speak for a long moment, but when she does, she reaches across the table to grab your hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being a jealous, judgemental bitch because I don’t like the idea of anyone else coming to steal you away from me,” she smiles self deprecatingly, but there’s an real edge of worry in her eyes that makes your stomach twist, “but you’re the most important thing to me. I don’t want you getting hurt, and I get bad vibes from that guy.” 

You open your mouth to retort, but she just shakes her head, “Just… just promise me you’ll be careful around him, alright?”

Wordlessly, you nod.

As much as you try and dismiss her concerns, as days pass you begin to wonder if maybe she isn’t wrong.

Not about Lev of course - he might be a little over exuberant but you know he doesn’t mean any harm by it - but you think, well… you’re starting to think that maybe somebody’s following you.

At first it’s just the tickling sensation on the back of your neck. When you run to the corner store on your lunch break to pick up a snack for the afternoon a shiver runs down your spine as you get the strangest feeling that somebody’s staring at you - you can feel the weight of their gaze burning into your back, but whenever you turn there’s nobody there.

There’s never anybody there.

But… didn’t you shut the door to your closet before you left for work that morning? You could have sworn that the window to your second storey bedroom was locked.

It comes to a head one night after work. You leave later than you normally would, having lost track of time trying to get some last minute emails off and by the time you actually get out the door it’s already dark outside and it’s pouring down with rain.

You’re halfway home when you get that prickling feeling on your skin, and your gut tightens uncomfortably. Tentatively you slow, shooting a furtive glance over your shoulder. The streets of the city are normally busy at this time of the night, but the rain’s driven people away - there’s not a soul in sight, including any wannabe stalkers.

The tight grip on your heart eases and you force yourself to relax. You’re imagining things now, you think with a shake of your head and a breathless laugh. 

Nobody’s out to get you, you’re fine.

Except the prickling sensation on the back of your neck doesn’t go away, and with every step you take the discomfort in your gut becomes harder and harder to ignore. Fingers flit anxiously at your side, your grip tightening on the handle of your umbrella. The rain’s loud as it crashes around you, but as you turn down the music coming from your headphones you swear that you can hear heavy footfalls behind you.

All it would take is another quick glance to confirm your suspicions. It could just be another person out in the rain trying to make their way home, same as you. It could be all your head, paranoia brought about by your friend’s worries. But fear has clawed its way up your spine - it’s late and you’re tired and scared, rational thought has left the building and you don’t think about any of that before dropping your umbrella and taking off into a sprint.

You don’t look back.

You don’t stop until you're back in the safety of your apartment with the door locked, blinds shut and the deadbolt in place.

You’re still trembling twenty minutes later when there’s a knock at your front door.

Your heart leaps into your throat at the sound, your entire body tensing, and for a single moment you debate not answering the door, but… you let out a sigh, shaking your head. You’re being ridiculous.

A quick glance through the peephole sets your heart at ease. Standing in the hallway dressed in a slightly damp black overcoat, his silvery-grey hair dusted with rain, is Lev. 

Relief floods through you as you quickly work at the locks, flicking open the deadbolt.

“Hey, Lev,” you murmur somewhat sheepishly, stepping back to let him come inside.

His green, catlike eyes light up at the sight of you, and he doesn’t waste a moment before leaning down and enveloping you in a tight hug - never mind his wet coat. You let yourself relax into the embrace - the comforting warmth as he wraps himself around you and strokes your back. “Y/N! I’m so glad you’re home! I know I’m kinda stopping by unannounced and all, but I was just on my way…” he trails off as he pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing as they flicker across your face.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmurs, his hands still entwined around your waist.

You smile tightly, biting down on your bottom lip. Should you tell him? There’s still some part of you that thinks maybe it’s all in your head, that you’re working yourself up for no good reason, but what if you’re not? What if there is somebody who’s-

There’s an insistent tug at your waist and your eyes dart back up to find Lev’s frown deepening. “Something’s wrong, tell me.”

A blush finds its way to your cheeks as you carefully unwind yourself from his hold and make your way back further into your living room, “I- you’ll think I’m being stupid I guess, or paranoid, but…”

“But?” he prompts.

You take a deep breath, fingers twisting in front of you, “I think that somebody might be… following me?” you phrase it almost as a question, carefully watching his face for any sign that he might start laughing at you. But he doesn’t - Lev’s features are perfectly blank as he stares back at you, and you rush to fill the sudden heavy silence that falls between the two of you. “I know it sounds insane, but my friend got me worried the other day, and things have been going missing from my place and I’m almost positive that somebody followed me home tonight and-”

“Hey,” he says, quickly stepping forward to close the distance between you. He reaches for your hand with a soft smile and you let him take it, offering a shaking smile back when his thumb smooths over the back of your palm. “I believe you. You don’t need to be scared, I’m here for you.”

You nod, swallowing down your nerves once more. 

“Do you… do you want me to stay tonight? Or at least for a few hours, you just look so fragile and frightened, I hate the thought of leaving you like this.”

Lev’s eyes show nothing but earnest concern as he studies you with a pout, and this time when your lips curl into a smile it's with genuine gratitude for your friend.

You should say no - it’s hardly fair for you to impose on him over something you’re not even sure is real, but… “Actually, that sounds good, if you don’t have plans of course - I don’t want to spoil your night or anything,” you mutter with a blush.

Lev just shakes his head with a soft laugh, “Of course not. You’re my only concern tonight, angel.”

You try not to let the relief show on your face too much. You’ll feel better knowing he’s there with you, and if nothing else you know he’ll take your mind off of things. It’s just what you need tonight - a friend. “Thank you,” you say warmly, dropping his hand so you can make your way back into the kitchen. “I was actually just about to start dinner, have you eaten yet? I was thinking pasta, but let me know if you feel like something else.”

He watches you for a moment as you open the fridge and bend over to rummage inside. “Pasta sounds great,” he calls back, shedding his damp jacket and making his way over to hang it off the coat rack by the front door.

Busy in the kitchen, you’re none the wiser to the soft click of locks turning, the deadbolt sliding back into place.

[articharys]

Ignore if you don't want to write it but maybe Spencer and reader get drunk & smoke after a case, (how they relax after a tough one) and end up admitting their feelings for eachother (they're best friends) and end up having sex. ???

Ok I literally just got this ask but I love It so I’m writing it.

requests are open btw, please send some in :)

warnings: sex, drinking, uses of weed, swearing. i think that's it

After every hard case, you and your best friend, Spencer Reid, would head to either one of your apartments and relax. And by relax you meant getting way too drunk and or high to comprehend the things coming out of your mouth. It had almost become a tradition. Of course, not having a filter when drunk meant you didn’t really care what you said (within reason) and that was never a good idea around Spencer.

You had developed a crush on the doctor after a year in the BAU, it was a gradual thing that started when one day he brought you your favourite drink into work. And yes, you did work out the exact day you fell for your best friend but that’s beside the point.

Spencer came in, hair drenched from the rain outside and holding one of those disposable cups from your favourite coffee shop

His face broadened into a big smile as he saw you battling all your paperwork at your desk,

“good morning, thought you would need this.” He said, dropping your drink of at the side of the desk and moving towards his own.

“you’re the best you know that”

“I know”

“oi, earth to y/n?” spencer questioned, pulling you out of your daydream and back into the bottle he was holding in front of you. You turn and face Spencer, limbs getting tangled in the process.

Smoke rolls out of Spencer’s lips shielding his face from view before reappearing before you could complain.

“ok that one definitely looked like a cloud.” You said, voice slurred slightly as the alcohol caught up to you.

Spencer disagrees for the twentieth time saying “no that just looked like a blob. Let me try again” before bringing the joint back to his lips and taking another slow drag, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at the glowing cherry growing dangerously close to his fingers. His eyes slip shut, his head tilts back, and a few thick, perfect smoke rings slip free from his pursed lips.

A flash of light brown peeks through his lashes, making sure you were watching.  “Show-off,” you accuse. He only smirks and moves on to a different topic of conversation.

His smirk makes your heartbeat faster, but you don’t dwell on it for two long as Spencer comes closer to you to pass the bottle of some alcohol you forgot the name of, but once the bottle was passed he didn’t stop and instead moved between your legs. Your back pressed hard on the coffee table behind you while Spencer placed his hands your thighs before his eyelids drooped.

You grab onto Spencer’s shoulders to steady him and ask, “you ok there spence?”

“just peachy, thank you.” Spencer moved closer to you, seemingly taking in everything he could about you, “you are very pretty y/n, so pretty”

A blush appeared on your face and before you knew it Spencer’s mouth was on yours. A mix of alcohol and weed invaded your senses and though it was a weird combination it was still somewhat comforting.

Though Reid sat between your legs you somehow made your way onto his lap,

“I feel tall now, you’re a tall ass guy” you say, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind and saying it out loud. It doesn’t last long because as soon as you finish your babbling Spencer kisses you again, harder this time. After a while you start to really work your hips into him, feeling your own desire burning.

You sit back grinding into him as you take another drag and he runs his hands over your torso, cupping your breasts through your shirt and pushing the offending material up and off you. He hungrily kisses between your breasts and stretches an arm behind you to unclasp your bra. He watches you exhale again. You pass it back to him and toss your bra to the side while he hits the dwindling length of the joint. He’s all soft smiles and heavy eyes as he lays his back of the front of his sofa. You follow him, pressing your exposed bodies together.

“You feel good” you say, kissing your way across his chest, teasing a nipple with your tongue and making him squirm and laugh a little more than normal.

"I’m so good right now," he smiles, taking one last long drag off the joint as you’re venturing lower, kissing his stomach and hips, hands finally reaching to his fly. You look up and watch him lick his thumb and forefinger pressing them quickly to the burning end of the joint, extinguishing what’s left before placing it with the tin on the coffee table in front of you both.

You press your mouth against his boxer clad erection protruding from his open fly, drawing slow open mouth kisses up its length. You feel him extend an arm and run a hand up and down your back and you know what he means. Every touch, every sensation feels heightened and magnified.

His fingertips turn your skin to Goosebumps and you’re all too willing to follow that hand back up and let him pull you close to him. He pushes down his jeans and you separate momentarily to rid yourself of the rest of your own clothing. All you want right now is to feel his naked body against yours, and he seems to sense this, or need the same, as he rolls you over and climbs on top of you the second you’ve both discarded your pants and underwear.

He kisses you and you can feel his erection pressed against your thigh, so you reach down to tug it gently in your hands. He moans into your mouth, tongue never leaving yours and traces his own hand down your body, stopping briefly to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Spencer, please,” you whine, arching against him and tightening your grip on his dick so he understands the urgency in your voice.

Your limbs feel slow and weighted, but your body responds to his touch amazingly quick and you can feel the pleasure radiating through you from where he’s touching.

You align his dick with yourself and look up at him with pleading eyes, you moan as he sinks into your pussy and at the same time he lowers himself down against your body.

You’re momentarily lost in sensory overload. His fingers start rubbing circles against your clit and you moan at the added sensation of having him inside you and stretching you out. His mouth is at your neck, kissing, licking, sucking a trail up and down in between your ear and shoulder, every touch adding to the building pleasure.

He starts to move, pumping slowly in and out of you and his breathless gasps and abbreviated moans tells you it feels as good for him as it does for you. His hand against your clit is sending coursing pleasure through you and you feel yourself already starting to clench as your grind back against him, meeting each of his slow, measured thrusts. It’s like you can feel every inch of him inside you, pressing all the way into you.

You bury yourself against his neck, moaning into his ear and drinking in his smell of complimentary soap and marijuana, the faintest tinges of sweat and alcohol permeating through the mask.

You feel him filling every inch of you and your body starts to shake against him, right on the brink of orgasm. His fingers are still working your clit and you feel them speed up, knowing how close you are. You’re consumed by a dizzying burst of pleasure as your climax begins to rip through you, arching up into him, screaming his name, as all you feel is course after course of shuddering release ripple through you. You clench and buck against him and you can still feel every nerve ending explode as his dick passes over. You feel him wrench his hand away and press into the sofa next to you to brace himself as he slams into you hard for his final thrusts. Your pussy is still clamping around him as he buries himself deep and you feel him groan in release. You hold him close and feel him grind himself into you as he comes deep inside you, both of your hips still giving small involuntary thrusts as your orgasms linger and slowly dissipate.

“Stoned sex is the best sex, I’m telling you.”

“shut up”

taglist:

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@slutforthegubes @nataliealvarado-blog @sarcasticallywitty15  

people who i think would like this:

@shyvirgoanon @g0ldengubler @collegestudentvevo @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @pumpkin-goob @spencessmile @spencersprentiss @spencersblog @peachpitfics @railmereid @reidsconverse @insufferablelust @wonderlandhatter @sleepyreid @reidaways @yours-truly-nsfw @yours-truly-r @softyreid @illuxions-x 

a/n: this is like my 3rd fic ive posted today. weird.

[icollectyoursins]

The Risotto thirst is real, guys. I'll put the dream under the cut because holy shit, it's long and so good. My brain really said: oh, oh you want Risotto? Oh, you’re thirsty? Here. Drink up. If anyone wants to uh... write a full fic for this, I won’t stop them, I mean... I’ve got a lot of work to do, but you guys... *wink wink.* You can do it if you want. Obviously you don’t have to. But, most of the work is done so.... 

Warnings are choking, cunnilingus, fingering. You know, the good stuff.

So, Risotto comes up to me, with my mother around the corner, said "I've been watching you all day, I know how you've been looking at me. You want me to breed you. I'll do it."

Then, we get on our horses, do our job of watering something (I dunno, that part was weird, but frankly I didn't care), we get to a foresty-rocky area, he leads me to a waterfall and helps me off my horse. There's a bridge to get to the other side, now I am terrified of heights, so I am walking very slowly behind him. He doesn't grab my hand to help, no, no. He grabs my face and tells me to look at him the entire time. We get half way, he shows me the view of the waterfall, which is nice, but still a little terrifying.

Finally, we get to the other side, round a corner and there's a small greenhouse, with a couch in it and a small fountain in the middle. It's a little over grown, but that's fine, because it's beautiful.

We talk a little bit, but there is obvious tension in the air. He tells me that this is where he comes to clear his head, maybe it’ll help clear mine. At this point, I can��t tell if he’s flirting or being serious, but regardless I come in close to him, being all adorable and shit. He can’t hold back any more. He kisses me, soft, a little out of practice, but it’s sweet. 

Things get more heated as he takes me over to the couch. I go to frantically unbutton my shirt, but he stops me. 

“No,” he says. “I want to savour every inch of you.” 

So, I slow down a little, his hands join mine, carefully sliding my shirt off my shoulders. At some point, his shirt comes off, then I’m in his lap, hungrily kissing him over and over. 

“So, do you actually clear your head, or do you just come here to masturbate.” I joke. 

“Both,” he answers.

We get back up and basically throw the rest of our clothes off. We both look down, exploring each other’s bodies. I have no idea where his eyes go, because mine go straight to his dick. He’s big, good thing I’m a royal member of the size clan.

He brings me close, softly kissing my lips. “I’ll be gentle.” He tells me. He’s big and he knows it can be intimidating. 

“Good thing you don’t have to be gentle. I can take it.” I say. Now I’ve got him going.

Risotto pulls me into his lap for another kiss, but then moves me so my back is on the couch. He slowly kisses down my body before putting my legs over his shoulders and clutching my hips. I’m now almost folded in half, staring at him while he starts to eat me out. Where do my hands go? I have no idea, I just grab onto his wrist so I can feel him there because this doesn’t feel real. I mean... it wasn’t but that’s not the point!

I’m getting close, he can tell in the way my back arches and how my legs keep wanting to clamp around him. He gets me to the very edge of orgasm, then pulls away, climbing over top of me. Is he going to fuck me now? You ask. No, he’s a gentleman and he’s going to make sure I’m prepped enough to take him.

He lets me calm down, still kissing up and down my body, before easily slipping a finger into me, then two, three. You get the point. He makes a joke about fisting me. I told you I can take it! Still, he loves to tease, so he does the same thing. Fingers me until I’m about to cum and then pulls away, leaving me breathless.

Fine, he caves, lining himself up and slowly pushes in. I’m tight, but it’s not painful, more like a vacuum. He collects himself, only the tip is still in, then makes small, shallow thrusts gradually putting more in until he’s balls deep. He runs this thumb over my lips, lost for a moment. Then, his hand slips, falling onto my throat, choking me. At first, he’s worried, but then he hears my moan and feels the way I tighten around him. He uses his other hand to keep mine above my head.

Risotto starts gently, slow, not wanting to ruin this moment or make it too quick. God, he just touches every sweet spot in me, I am moaning like a whore at this point. He catches a glimpse of movement. There’s a mirror in front of him. He can see how hot his face is, how smooth his hips are moving. Oh, that’s good. He’ll use it later.

Much to my disappointment, he removes his hand from my throat and lets go of me, then lifts me up into his arms, so he’s fucking into me like I’m nothing. His face is buried in my neck while I scream out his name. I hold him close, unable to do anything but hope he’ll let me cum this time. 

He pushes me up against the back of the couch to give his arms a break. A few more thrusts and I’m done. I gush over his length, shaking while I hold onto him. Beautiful, he thinks. He sets me down on my stomach, letting me catch my breath, he’ll deal with his problem, he’s used to it. I only take a few minutes before I look back at him, joking about how he didn’t have to stop. He looks a little perturbed, but then I wiggle my ass at him and he’s on me again. 

This time, he’s pressed me against the arm of the couch so I can watch our faces in the mirror. He changes it up when he’s fucking me from behind. He grabs my hair for a bit while smacking my ass, chokes me again, but eventually settles on wrapping his arms around my top half with his face buried in my neck once again. 

Between kisses I tell him he’s hit a sweet spot, which he then abuses, rolling his hips forward over and over again, hitting it with precision. I’m even more sensitive now, so it doesn’t take long for me to cum again. He pulls out, letting me go through it before pushing into me again. My walls flutter around him and he’s toast, thrusting himself to the hilt while he paints my insides white. 

He looks at the mirror, panting. “If it looks so good, why don’t you take a picture. It’ll last longer.” I tease. He takes it literally, grabbing his phone and quickly snapping a few shots of him kissing me, then me kissing him. He leans back switching to video so he can watch the image of his cock slipping out of me, followed by drops of his cum over and over. He plays with my clit, making me jerk and clench which only make more drip out. 

Then, he’s done with the video, sliding his head through my legs while ordering me to sit on him. He starts eating me out again, like a man deprived. I feel his phone against my leg. Without him noticing, I start taking my own pictures in the mirror and of him. Thank god he had the sound off. He doesn’t eat me out to orgasm this time, just cleans me up. 

After everything, he cleans up our clothes and sits behind me, pulling a blanket over top of us. We should be going back by now, but neither of us want to. We cuddle up to each other, still reeling from the post coital bliss. That’s when he looks at his phone, swiping through the most recent pictures that I took. 

And that’s about when I woke up.