#And the so called friends have to fucking nerve to keep saying everything they do is in honor of Kuruk😃

[iluvstarkey]

When The Tide Comes

AN: This is apart of my Tans and Temptation series BUT it is perfectly fine to read by itself no context is needed. <3 Also someone let me know if you think Sarah's reasoning is dramatic because this story is based on a true story.

Summary: Sarah unfriends you and Rafe comforts you.

Warnings: Sarahs a Bitch, Swearing, Rafe and Reader are not together, mentions of abuse, Rafe is a sweetheart.

Rafe Cameron x Thorton reader

Now Spinning: Cherry by Harry Styles

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Ever since you can remember, the island has been divided between kooks and pogues. Figure eight and the cut. How people looked at you mattered you were a Thorton, and everyone knew who you were and who your family was. You had an image; it was hard to carry the weight of the island having its eyes on you, but thankfully, you weren't alone. Sarah Cameron, your best friend in the whole world, your rock, the only person who understood the weight of it all was by your side.

When your freshmen year started, you two did everything together. You tried to get your classes to be the exact same; you had your brother or Sarahs drive you to school every day. You walked to each other's lockers and to each other's classes. Soon, your duo turned into three and then later four. Sarah, Cassie, Kiara, and you. You would go everywhere together until Toppers back to school party. You were friends with a couple of pogues and you were hanging beside them with Kiara. Cassie and Sarah were off with Sarah's new boyfriend who also happened to be your brother. You thought it wasn't a big deal that Sarah liked Topper. You would be a hypocrite to say that since you liked her brother as well.

JJ was throwing a rock back and forth to John B when all of a sudden, John B missed the catch, and the rock hit right into the Keg, knocking it over. Topper soon ran over his hands, shooting up in the air, "Watch it, pogue, this alcohol costs more than your worth. Shouldn't you be at home anyway? Getting beaten by your deadbeat dad?" "Fuck off, Topper." Kie pushed him backward. " Awe, protecting your Pogue boyfriend? Do you have a kink for getting beaten as well? You know what they say about like father like son." Topper sneered back at her. "God, Topper, you're such a bitch." Kie took JJ's arm and dragged him away from the scene.

"No way she just called Topper a bitch, the fucking nerve she has," Sarah spoke up beside you, you didn't even notice her walk up next to you. You decided against defending Kiara. Recently, something has been off with Sarah, she barely invited you to things, only hanging out with Cassie and Topper, a newfound trio. Sarah has also been more irritable. She would randomly get mad at you and wouldn't give it up until you apologized for it. You never knew what side you were on.

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"I'm just not talking to her, I don't want to be friends with someone who's gonna treat me like that, you know? I mean, she didn't even apologize to me she actually hasn't said anything to me about it. She also keeps asking me to hang out, like who does she think she is?" You and Sarah sat in the kitchen eating some type of sandwich that Sarah said was the best she's ever made. "I mean, I don't really know the whole situation. Do you really think she meant harm in it? Are you just fully going to cut her off?" You spoke up halfway chewing. "Please even if she apologized it wouldn't have been true so what's the point." Sarah moved her chair and walked out of the room.

You never told Sarah, but you never stopped hanging out with Kiara, you guys would hang out basically every day at the beach somehow Sarah ended up finding out one night when you were with Kiara. Sarah then unadded you and basically never talked to you when she was over with your brother. She didn't even try to communicate her feelings she just shut down and then decided you were the worst person in the world. At first, it bothered you, the fact that you were extremely close to just her cutting you off like you meant nothing. You guys grew up together, you did everything with each other. Then it turned into anger, the fact that she thought she could just do that like she was in the right. She wasn't, she was being dramatic she couldn't possibly think that she was right? Topper said some messed up things, and Kiara didn't even call her the bitch so why was she expecting an apology?

You and Kie were on the pier with the pogues, nothing was really going on you had a couple drinks. You had some type of intuition and decided to check your phone to see Cassie's story. She was on the mainland for the weekend with Sarah. That was always the trip that you both took. Every year on July 7th, you would travel up to the mainland for the weekend. You excused yourself from the group and decided to walk home.

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You had tears brewing in your eyes as you opened the door. Rafe sat in the living room some type of sports game was playing. He was alone Topper must have been in the bathroom. He turned his head towards you as the door clicked shut. "Hey princess have a fun night?" He teased you before noticing the tears in your eyes. "Not tonight Rafe." He immediately got up and dragged you to your room away from the loud tv. He shut the door to your bedroom and cupped your face wiping away the tears. "What's wrong?" You shook your head as the tears just flowed.

Rafe just brought you into a hug, rubbing your back, which just made you sob harder into him. "Shhhh, it's okay, You're okay, breathe, sweet girl." He was gentle, very gentle. You looked up at him your eyes landing on his handsome face. His hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, his beautiful blue eyes that just searched your face for any indication of what happened, his perfect body. Him. Rafe snapped you out of your trance. "Y/n, talk to me what happened?" You walk over to the side of your bed and have a seat. You decided to tell him everything. Starting with what Topper said all the way to Sarah cutting you off and finally going on the mainland trip with someone else. By the time you were done explaining, you were exhausted. You cried it all out to Rafe, who just sat there and listened.

Rafe listened to the whole story from start to end. "Don't let her get to her, you know? I would just ignore it. You two were friends since you two were born she won't just replace you like that now, c'mon time for you to go to bed." Rafe got up and motioned for you to lie down. You did as instructed and he pulled the covers up over you and then kissed your forehead. "Don't let her get to you okay?" You nodded at him before he turned your light off and walked out of the room.

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[potatounicoorn]

As if Kuruk being claimed as the worst Avatar in history, while he cleaned up Yanchens mess, dedicating his life to slaying bad spirits while getting no reward but only hatred towards him, losing his wife on the wedding day in progress AND his own life at the early age of THIRTY THREE by literally rotting from spirit powers was not enough suffering for a lifetime. Hah. NooOOOo!

Apparently universe does not want to give this man a fucking break because his "team Avatar" his "best friends", keep being the absolute assholes even after his death AND LITERALLY BETRAY HIM IN HIS NEXT LIFE. AND THEN KEEP MAKING HIS RECARNATION'S LIFE MISERABLE. WHY WAS NOT ONE LIFETIME ENOUGH, WHY??

[sticky-sugar]

try it. (matsukawa issei x reader)

tags/cw: roommates to lovers, somnophilia, fingering, mattsun sends porn as a coping mechanism, size kink if you really squint

word count: 3.1k

“i’ve always wanted to try that.” 

issei chokes on his beer when you speak. you point at the tv in explanation, as though he needs one. the scene playing has just started out with a couple in bed, spooning while they fuck. everything’s covered, but it’s easy to tell through the blanket that the woman’s leg is lifted, her back arching against the man’s chest while she cries out lewdly. 

“never been fucked in the morning?” he jokes, keeping his eyes trained on the screen so he doesn’t have to look at you. his laugh sounds awkward even to him. 

“mm-mm.” you shake your head, draining your wine glass, and he can’t tell if that’s a confirmation or a rejection of his guess. but he can tell that that wine bottle on the coffee table is empty, because you would never say these things to him sober. 

“not that part,” you explain. frowning when you realize there’s no wine left, you rise from the couch, disappearing from the room and padding down the hall. issei sighs in relief at the moment alone, running his fingers through his hair and tugging hard.

“she’s drunk,” he whispers to himself, a reminder. “she’s drunk, and she’s your friend. and you can’t afford rent anywhere else, you stupid fuck.” that’ll do it. he’s broke as shit, and you’re a good friend. he can steel his nerves with those facts. 

“she was asleep when he started,” you call from the kitchen. 

fuck. 

issei drops his head back, hitting it on the wall a few times with purpose. fuck, fuck, fuck. 

you come back in, and he straightens, yanking the throw blanket over his lap. you’re too drunk to notice. 

you’re too drunk to notice much of anything, really — including your own running mouth. 

“she was asleep,” you say again. “and he fucked her anyway—“ you rush to explain yourself, holding a hand out when his eyes find yours, wide and uncertain. “consensually, obviously.” 

that doesn’t help. he’d been assuming that, but you confirming it makes it worse.

somnophilia, his mind whispers, the word latching itself to you. 

“i dunno,” you shrug, your refilled wine glass brought to your lips. “i think it’s hot, i guess. i’d try it.” 

he really can’t afford rent anywhere else. 

—

you’re scouring roommate ads in a hungover daze the next morning. 

what is your problem?, you think, rolling over to groan into your pillow. you open your bank app, staring at the number in your checking account and wondering uselessly if it’s enough to afford a place on your own. one where you’ll never have to look mattsun in the face again. 

why did you tell him that?

your brain flashes through two bottles of wine and drunk admissions, and you switch over to uber eats, deciding that cooking is simply not an option today. standing in that kitchen for more then four seconds and risking running into him is not an option. 

you know why you told him that. you know exactly why you told him.

you told him because, despite every coping mechanism you’ve tried over the years of living with him, matsukawa issei persists in being the most attractive man you’ve ever met. 

you told him because you wanted to test the waters. why you would ever test the waters with somnophilia, of all things, and not something standard and vanilla like ‘making out with a friend just happens sometimes’ or ‘drunk hookups aren’t so bad’, you will never know. 

but you’d told him because you think about it. you think about him, doing things like that. things that aren’t standard or vanilla or easily explained or plausibly deniable. 

you think about matsukawa issei fucking you while you sleep. and maybe it’s happened one too many times. maybe now it’s all you think about, enough that it comes up in your stupid, drunk admissions. 

maybe — just maybe — you hope he might take you up on it, now that it’s out there in the open like that. 

but that’s just a maybe. so you’re looking for another apartment, on the very real chance that he’s going to call you a freak and never speak to you again. 

your phone buzzes in your hand. 

it’s a text from him.

[10:17 AM]

mattsun: [link attached]

your face crumples into a frown. “what?” you murmur, jabbing a thumb on the link and hoping it’s not a virus. 

your phone starts moaning at max volume.

you scream, slamming down on the side button to lower the volume as the video intro plays through. your eyes fly to the title.

milf fucked by son’s friend while she’s sleeping

there’s no fucking way he just did that. 

[10:19 AM]

mattsun: smth like that? 

“matsukawa!” you scream, rolling out of bed and storming out into the hall. he’s laughing loudly from his room, and you all but kick his door down. “what the fuck is your problem?!” 

he’s in bed, cackling gleefully and covering his face with his blanket — but his eyes are anything but shy when he looks at you. 

“just trying to ease the tension-“

“by sending me porn?!”

he shrugs and gestures to his phone. “im just saying, you’re not alone! at least—“ he glances down at the screen “—3.8 million other people are into it, too-“ 

you scream in frustration, turning and stomping back to your room. his laughter follows, echoing through your door even when you slam it. 

he does it for two weeks straight. every few days, you wake up to a new link, each video titled something more obnoxious than the last. 

guy takes step-sister while she takes a nap

mom wakes step-son up with a special surprise on his birthday

repairman finds sleeping beauty home alone

each one draws an irritated screech of his name and the echoing giggles of satisfaction from his room. 

you could stop it. in fact, he’s asked you more than once if you want him to. 

‘if you really want me to stop, i’ll stop, he’d said in your kitchen last week.

‘just say the word,’ he’d reminded you on his way out one morning.

‘i think you and i both know how important consent is,’ he’d murmured just two nights ago, leaning on your doorframe, his eyes hot on yours. 

you’d shivered under his gaze and pretended to be engrossed in something on your phone. you’d hoped he couldn’t see the way you’d pressed your thighs together, but when you looked up, he was already staring down at them. 

he’d met your eyes again and just hummed, flicking his dark eyebrows up at you before turning away. your phone had buzzed with a new link only seconds after his bedroom door had clicked shut.

you’re certain he knows why you haven’t told him to stop. that the truth is that you don’t want him to stop. you’re certain he’s testing the waters now, too.

because each video he sends you gets closer and closer to being about roommates. 

your phone buzzes in your hands. you wonder if he knows that you watch each one, waiting for him to pull the trigger on the one that sits unspoken in the space between you. 

he does, a week later.

— 

you’ve caught him, issei realizes belatedly. 

maybe he should have noticed after you started sitting closer to him on the couch. or maybe after you’d refused to tell him to stop sending you porn. or maybe even after he’d sent you something titled ‘roommate can’t help himself while she sleeps’ at 4 in the morning and you hadn’t called the cops on him. 

maybe he should have realized you’d caught him after any one of those. but he doesn’t. he doesn’t realize it, not until this very moment, as you’re standing from the couch and bending over to clean the table of empty beer bottles before bed. 

he doesn’t realize it until he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear. 

he glances at you shamefully when you bend at the waist, hoping you don’t look back and catch him. and then he coughs violently, choking on his own spit and drawing your attention. 

he waves you off, blushing furiously and not even bothering to stop his eyes from flying to your ass when you just shrug and bend over again. your pajama shorts have ridden up, but there’s no lacy edge on pink panties where there should be. 

yes, he’d noticed years ago that these shorts tend to ride up and not mentioned it. yes, he knows what kind of panties you wear. yes, he has a favorite pair. 

what are you gonna do if you find out, call him a pervert? he’d sent you roommate somnophilia porn and you’d made him coffee in the morning.

“‘kay, goodnight,” you mumble, and issei wonders if you’re shy about it or if he’s just hoping you are.

“g’night,” he breathes, eyes finding yours. you keep eye contact all the way out of the living room. your eyes drop to his lap at the last second, and he watches a grin stretch across your face just before you disappear from the room. 

he looks down at his lap, and then he swears under his breath. he’s visibly hard in his sweatpants. 

—

he feels like a pervert. he really feels like a pervert. 

he stands in the hall outside your bedroom, one hand on the knob, feeling like a pervert. it’s 2 in the morning, and he feels like a pervert.

he sighs to himself and turns the knob slowly — ever so slowly, because he knows how it creaks, and he doesn’t want to wake you. he pushes the door open carefully, and then he finds you in the dark, moonlight spilling over your body. 

you’re completely naked. 

you’re on your stomach, blankets draped over your lower half and one knee bent out toward the wall. issei can see the expanse of your bare skin and the swell of your breast, but you’ve got your back slightly to him, so he can’t see everything. 

but it’s enough. 

he breathes hard, stepping into the room and shutting the door silently behind him. he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging hard and giving a soft sigh as he pads over to you. 

when he lowers his knees to your mattress, it’s with his heart in his throat and his cock straining against his pants. you look so innocent, so sweet like this, even while he’s sliding the blankets off of your skin and exposing you in the moonlight. 

is he really allowed to want this as badly as he does? 

your breath is steady, only changing slightly when he braces himself behind you, propped up on one elbow. he scoots toward you, breath caught in his throat, and then slides his hand under the back of your knee. you shiver, probably because his fingers are ice cold, and he keeps his eyes locked on the side of your face. 

when you don’t give any other sign of waking, he lifts your leg and hooks it backward over his knee, opening your body up for him. 

he swears under his breath, staring down at you in the moonlight. 

you shift, adjusting to the new angle of your body with a sigh. your back presses to his chest, and issei has to press his lips together so he doesn’t moan at the sight of you. 

he keeps his eyes on your face when he slides his fingers along your inner thigh, watching you intensely as his icy fingertips dance close to the spot between your thighs that’s radiating heat. 

when he cups your bare cunt, your skin breaks out in goosebumps, but you don’t move otherwise. issei moans now, because your body knows what he’s doing, but you don’t. 

he’d had a feeling before — in the weeks between that moment on the couch and this moment right here — that he’d unlocked a new, previously untouched fantasy. that his reaction to your drunken admission might have been about more than just being attracted to you. 

he sees it now. now, as he’s sliding two fingers between your folds and watching as you remain completely unaware, he realizes that you’ve done something to him. that you’ve made him want to do this to you, tonight and every night after. 

it takes every ounce of his self-control not to shudder and moan in your ear when your pussy twitches under his fingers, reacting to him even when you don’t. 

he drops his head to your chest, eyes locked on your face as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. your lips part, and he freezes, but the sigh that falls out is nowhere near conscious, so he keeps going, sucking and licking and grazing his teeth over the bud while he massages your cunt with his now-warm fingers. 

the first sign that you’re reacting is the growing ease with which he’s able to push his fingers against you. your entrance becomes slick, and he can’t help that he pushes his hips against your ass in response, seeking relief. he drops his touch lower and swipes the pads of his fingers through the mess there, spreading it all over your cunt. 

when he circles your clit, slippery and warm now, your breathing changes, harder and rougher. the rise and fall of your chest pushes at his mouth, and he latches on with fresh fervor, watching your brows furrow and your lips twitch at the onslaught of sensations. 

it shouldn’t be as easy as it is for him to push his middle finger past your entrance. 

“fuck”, he whispers despite himself, mouth slipping off of you with a gentle pop and eyes rolling back in his head. your walls pulse around his finger, warm and velvety and wet beyond belief. his cock twitches hard in his pants as he slides his finger in and out of you, searching for that spongy spot that’ll wake you up. 

he knows you might have wanted him to fuck you like this, but he can’t help himself anymore. he doesn’t have it in him to be careful anymore. 

when his ring finger joins his middle, it’s with intent. the push is rough, bullying your cunt open with the size of his fingers, no doubt longer and fuller than you can get on your own. 

you shift under him, a quiet noise of question leaving you, and he lifts his head, attaching his lips to the crook of your neck. 

“y/n,” he whispers, more a moan than anything else. “need you.” 

he sucks on the column of your throat while you come to, his fingers curling and spreading inside of you — his sloppy attempt to prepare you for him. 

“h-huh-“ your head lifts slightly, and then you’re slamming it back against the pillow, your back arching. “oh, my god, mattsun-“ 

he almost comes in his pants when you say his name like that. 

“couldn’t help myself,“ he starts, shaking his head and pushing his body against yours almost desperately. “you were so pretty.“ your cunt tightens around his fingers in response, and he files that away for later. keeps it in mind, the things that make you react like this. “need you so bad, y/n-“ 

“yes, god yes,” you breathe, a whine trapped in your throat. you turn your head, back still pressed against his chest, and drop your still-sleepy eyes to his lips.

the coil under issei’s navel tugs hard when he realizes how well he can read you. 

he pushes his mouth against yours eagerly, moan unrestrained when your tongue slides against his. he wonders if you know how often he’s thought of this moment, years of wanting you and craving the feeling of you coming undone under his fingers. 

“please,” you whisper against his lips, back arching when he pushes the pads of his fingers against that spongy spot that makes you whine. “more, mattsun.” 

he groans, shivering when you pull his bottom lip between your teeth. “not yet — it’ll hurt,” he murmurs, leaning on every molecule of self-control.

“i can take it,” you just say, pushing your ass back against his aching cock. “promise.” 

he never had that much self-control to begin with.

his moan comes out in a shuddered breath, overpowered by the sound of you whining when he slips his fingers out of you. he shoves his sweats down to his knees, meeting your eyes and seeing the urgency he feels reflected in your eyes. 

when he slides his cock between your folds, it’s with a choked groan and a heaving pant in your ear. 

“can i- are you sure-“ he stutters, already lining himself up at your entrance.

“please, please, please,” you babble, arching your back to make the angle easier on him. 

you come around his cock before he’s even halfway in. 

there are stars in his eyes by the time you’re done. 

you cry out for him, shaking and clenching down hard, and he can’t do anything except bury his face in your hair and keep your leg lifted high with a trembling hand. 

“fuck,” he breathes, voice tight. “fuck, y/n-“ 

“more, mattsun,” you sob. he thinks you might be the girl of his dreams. 

pushing the rest of the way in, he shoves down his own orgasm, fighting and kicking and forcing it away so he can last more than thirty seconds inside of you. 

he only manages a minute before he’s spilling into you with a stuttered moan of your name, face buried in your neck and head full of static.

you’re just slumped against him by the time he comes to his senses, breathing hard and synced with his.

“sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, ears burning with embarrassment. “i swear i usually last longer than that-“

you laugh, tired and still weak but bright all the same. “yeah — so do i.” 

he snorts, pulling out slowly and letting your leg drop closed, trying his best not to moan at the feeling. 

“are you sure that was okay?” he asks, a tiny inkling of doubt still seeded in his veins. you just giggle, whispering his name in fond exasperation.

“sorry, which part of me sleeping naked was a warning sign?” 

“shut up,” he mutters, curling himself around you and feeling the beginnings of exhaustion start to drain his energy. “i’m staying here tonight. i don’t do one-night stands.” 

you just turn in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck. “was i that good, mattsun? i was asleep for half of it.” 

you’re gonna be the thing that kills him, he just knows it. 

[beomcoups]

Stupid Cupid

➻❥ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are madly in love with your best friend and it's eating you alive. One day you will tell him how you feel, but you have to deal with his girlfriend first.

➻❥ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend!hansol x reader

➻❥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, roommates au, best friends to ?, angst, fluff, smut

➻❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, jealousy, fight is kind of intense, kissing, protected sex, nipple play?, fingering, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, missionary, multiple orgasms?

➻❥ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9.1k

➻❥ 𝐀𝐍: This for the collab "Lonely Hearts Cafe", hosted by @camandemstudios. This story truly stressed me out and I couldn't have gotten through it without @yoongihan, @seokgyuu, @okiedokrie and & @haologram for looking at this for me. I don't do well with deadlines and the words just weren't coming to me naturally. It was eating me up and giving me headaches lol. I hope despite that, you all like this labor of love 😭

You are in love with Hansol. 

Hopelessly, stupidly, trip over your feet when he’s around, butterflies in your stomach kind of love. He’s everything you could want in a guy and your best friend, someone you can just chill with no expectations. You both love Star Wars, attend anime cons together, and are allergic to peanuts. You share a home with him and it feels like home in your heart when he’s near. You’re in love with Hansol. There is only one problem: he has an on-and-off girlfriend. 

A girlfriend you particularly hate. 

Kelsey is always around, taking up your space, and it’s aggravating. You wish you could say that it’s not serious, but to your chagrin, they have been on and off for a couple of years. It’s bad enough that you can’t tell Hansol how you feel, but then you have his girlfriend, a huge social media influencer, always at your condo every time you’re there. You would think she would like to take her “influence " elsewhere. It’s exacerbating. 

“Hey there girl,” Kelsey calls out as you walk to the kitchen. She is sprawled out with her laptop on your living room floor rug, wearing a cut-off shirt, the tiniest shorts you have ever seen, and knee-high socks. Where does she live again?

“What’s up?” you respond, barely hiding the irritation in your voice. 

“Oof, you’re definitely not a morning person,” she scoffs. “Do you think you can stay out tonight? Vernon has this Hollywood thing he has to attend to tonight, and he is stressed about it. So I want to help him relax if you know what I mean.” 

You raise your eyebrows at her referring to him as Vernon, which he only tells his coworkers to call him. Hansol is a cinematographer, and a damned good one. He works for a major film studio and is invited to parties all the time. He only goes for the free food and booze, he says, because those people don’t care about anything but themselves and their pockets, let alone pronouncing his first name correctly.

Kelsey is not a coworker; she is, unfortunately, his girlfriend. Why doesn’t she call him by his preferred name?

“What does you wanting to help Hansol relax have to do with me being here?” you ask, making yourself a cup of coffee. 

“Well.” She clicks her tongue. “It’ll be pretty awkward for me to be blowing his brains out while you’re here, ya know?”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying what is on your mind, instead focusing on making your elaborate coffee with whipped cream and caramel syrup on top. This girl really has some nerve. 

“Kelsey,” you let out a small sigh. “I’m not leaving my house because you want to fuck. Do whatever you please.” You slam the whipped cream can on the container. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” 

Irritated, you walk past her and speed into the hallway, almost running into Hansol, who is leaving his bedroom. Wearing a red shirt and pajama pants, he has bedroom hair and a hint of sleep in his eyes. He looks adorable. 

“Where are you running off to?” His voice is deep and groggy. 

“I am running away from that peach of a girlfriend you have in there.” You roll your eyes. “Plus, I have to get ready for work.” 

“Oh no, what did she do now?” 

“Nothing, aside from asking me to stay out of the condo that I pay for tonight so she can fuck you as loud as she wants,” you say bluntly. 

Hansol’s eyes widen in shock, the little sleepiness he had evaporated. “She didn’t say that?” 

“She just about said that,” you sigh, leaning on the wall. “Look, I have to get ready for my day, but we have to have a conversation later. Not tonight, because I know that party is happening. But at some point, we do.” 

“Okay,” he says, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry,” you sigh again, deeply this time. “Let’s just chat soon, okay?”

You step into your room and shut the door, your heart beating out of your chest. That was not a conversation you want to have early in the morning, and Kelsey being around more and more makes you erratic. Eventually, a conversation will have to be had about how much time she is spending here and everything. But right now, you will sip your elaborate coffee and try to get through the day. 

You met Hansol on the first day of college. You needed help finding your classes and ironically you shared some classes required for your majors. You wanted to be a film director and figured a film studies degree would get you there. Hansol loved being behind the camera, recording the magic in front of him. You shared the same study group and met your other best friends, Minghao and Wonwoo. Minghao has a good eye for design and wanted to work on set designs and costumes while Wonwoo is equally obsessed with cameras, often geeking out with Hansol about the different models they wanted to collect one day. You even lived together at one point, your friendship group known as the “core four”, until one by one, everyone moved out and it was just you and him. 

You didn’t fall in love with him right away. It was a slow, simmering thing that snuck in and robbed your heart and mind before you realized it. You were together all the time and enjoyed the same things. You’ve seen each other at your worst, depended on each other, and celebrated your successes together. Hansol was your go-to for everything, and you didn’t realize until he started dating Kelsey that you were in love. But how can you tell him that?

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Minghao sits next to you during your lunch break the same day, bringing you meat and stir fry that he brought from home. His girlfriend, Mei, who is an excellent cook and very sweet, sent you a text this morning that she was bringing some with him to the studio today. You worked for a major studio as an SFX artist, falling in love with prosthetics and makeup in one of your courses and deciding to pursue that instead. You still have your bachelors in film studies and your love for film hasn’t changed; you just went on a different path. You’re happier for it. 

“Thank you for the food,” you breathe, purposely dodging his question. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, handing you Tupperware of colorful stir fry. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything is wrong with me?” 

Minghao raises an eyebrow with a familial side-eye as he distributes utensils, the kind of look parents give you when they know you’re telling a lie. He knows you so well, and he has always been good at reading people. You can talk to him about anything, and he is going to give you the hard truth, even if you don’t want to hear it. After a moment, you tell him what happened this morning and he is silent, taking it all in.

“She is really getting on my nerves,” you huff, accidentally slamming your plastic fork on the table. Your colleagues around you look in your direction nervously, and you are mortified, wishing you could wiggle your nose and disappear like the genie on the old TV show. 

“Are you sure it’s because of her, or is it because of him?” Minghao asks casually, taking a sip of his tea. 

“W-what do you mean?” you play aloof, not wanting to open another can of worms. “This has nothing to do with Hansol, though I wish he would tell her to not come over to our place all the time. I don’t get what he even sees in her.” 

“Sure,” he says with a smirk, barely containing his amusement. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you are in love with him.”

“Ugh,” you groan, sliding further in your seat. “I wish I never told you that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” His smile widening into a teasing grin. “Even the blind could see your bleeding heart for him.”

“Yeah, apparently everyone can but him,” you mutter, taking a stab at your food. 

Minghao chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well don’t take your frustration out on the food. Mei put a lot of love into that.” 

You mumble “sorry”, feeling guilty and eating your food in silence. If it were another day and you were in a better mood, you would savor it more. But all you want is for the work day to end, so you can curl in your bed and figure out how to navigate this unrequited love. 

“What if I told him how I felt?” 

You look up slowly at your friend, gauging his reaction. He already has the look of disapproval, and your stomach is in knots. 

“Yeah, that’s a terrible idea,” he says firmly. “Do you really want to start drama in the middle of the busiest season for us? Not to mention Kelsey will blast this all over social media.”

“I’m not scared of her,” you shoot back defiantly, crossing your arms. 

Minghao chuckles again, but it is lighter and paired with concern in his eyes. “Just think it through okay? Things are already complicated, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

He places a supportive hand on your shoulder as he packs up what’s left of his lunch and goes back to work. You sigh, knowing that he’s right, but it still doesn’t make it easier to hear. 

You planned to sleep through whatever escapade Kelsey had in mind with Hansol. You had your nightly tea with cinnamon horchata and set your phone to play ambient/vaporwave music to drown out whatever noise they might bring. They aren’t exactly the quietest people when they are in the mood, and you have been dreading it since this morning. 

A lot of times you have wondered what it would be like to experience him for the first time. You’ve heard enough of them to have an idea of what he is like, but it’s different from actually feeling him inside you, with his hands caressing your body. You want to feel his lips on yours and your skin against his. Is it possible to crave something that you’ve never had? You are tired of hearing the headboard banging against the wall and the moans that follow soon after. You are irritated with it all— You wish it were you instead. 

You heard the security system beep when the front door opened, and you lay in bed, waiting for the inevitable shuffling of feet and sloppy kisses that would follow after. Your stomach turns at the thought of her hands all over him, whispering sweet things in his ear that have no meaning. Silence ensues, leaving you confused, and your nosiness gets the best of you. Slowly getting out of bed, you slip into your house shoes, exiting your room quietly as you brace yourself for the grand display of affection you were used to seeing. Instead, you find Hansol on the couch, taking a hit of his vape, tiredness etching around his eyes. 

“How was the party?” You probe, taking a seat next to him and crossing your legs. “You look partied out.” 

“It was alright,” he mumbles, taking another hit of his vape. 

“Alright?” You quirk an eyebrow. “You have been talking about this party all month and it was just alright?”

You noticed his disposition and you don’t want to pry, but his nonchalant attitude is eating at you. Hansol can be hard to read sometimes, but you know him. He’s quiet with everyone else but not with you—he tells you everything. 

“Tell me what’s happened.” 

Hansol reluctantly answers, sighing heavily as he takes one more vape hit before setting it on the armrest. You move closer to him, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Kelsey and I broke up again,” he said, the heaviness of his words linger in the air. The sadness in his voice is clear, and it hurts you to see him upset. “She wanted to bring a friend to the party and you can’t exactly do that. So when I told her no, she got all pissed at me, we argued and she broke up with me.” 

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words. “I’m really sorry, Hansol. Despite how I feel about her, I know you really love her, and being broken up with sucks.” 

He looks at you, his brown eyes reflecting a mix of tiredness and frustration. “She said it was more than just not letting her bring her friend to the party. She says I never consider her feelings and that’s not true. It just feels like we’re always going in circles. One minute, we’re good; the next, it’s like… it never even mattered.”

“Yeah, that can be exhausting,” you pause, wanting to say more but unsure how to articulate the feelings that bubble beneath the surface. This is not their first break up, but it affects him all the same. Seeing Hansol be madly in love with someone who keeps taking advantage of him burns you to your core. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone who will take care of him with love and respect. Someone who values his ideas and cares about him as a person. You would give him the world if you could. 

“I hope I am not overstepping,” you say cautiously. “But this isn’t your first rodeo. Why do you keep going back?” 

His silence is deafening, and he has an uncomfortable expression on his face as he tries to find the right words to say. “Look, Kelsey can be a lot and full of herself, but she cares in her own way. When it’s just us, she is so attentive, funny, and warm—sort of. She has her moments,” he sighs again. “She makes me feel good in a way no one else has. I love her.”

Hearing him declare his love for her leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. It’s bad enough that you didn’t realize you were in love with him until after he started seeing her, and now after hearing this, you can never tell him how you feel. It’ll fuck up everything, despite it gnawing at you inside. 

“For what it’s worth, I hope that you two will be able to talk it out and figure out what you want to do.” You tell a strong lie, but you don’t want to hear more about his love for her. You can’t take it. “Do you want to chill for a bit? We can watch Revenge Of The Sith if you want.” 

He cracks a small smile, and for a moment, the weight in his eyes lightens. “Yeah, let’s just chill for a bit. That sounds cool.”

“Cool,” you reply, scrambling from the couch. “I’ll make some popcorn.” 

Tears threaten to break free as you beeline it to the kitchen, your heartache paining worse than before. “She makes me feel good in a way no one else has… I love her.” You keep replaying it in your head over and over. You almost wish you never left your room, and went to sleep like you planned. At least you would still have a bit of hope, instead of a cracked heart. 

A few weeks pass, and as the season change, so does the light in Hansol’s eyes. He is getting back to his normal self and is laughing again. As happy as you are for him, it feels like your heart is being pierced by shards of glass. It was foolish of you to think you could ever be with him, and Minghao was right: it will just complicate everything.  

You know he isn’t completely over Kelsey, and it’s going to take more than a few weeks to get over someone you love deeply. You used to have daydreams of cuddling with Hansol on the couch, watching horror movies, and being madly in love… you have to put it to bed, for good. You start distancing yourself, little by little. Whether it’s staying late at work or finding different excuses to be out of the house, it doesn’t matter. You’re still there for him as a friend, but you want to be free from this unrequited love. It was fucking with you. 

So here you are, at a bar, sitting with your date Seungcheol, who you met on a dating app. You just wanted a quick fix for your heartache, and they say the best way to get over someone is to get under another, right? He’s the one to fulfill that. 

Within an hour of talking to him, you learned he was the typical tech bro who went to an Ivy League school, liked to mansplain everything, and thought he was God’s gift to women. Whatever. It’s not like you planned on seeing him again after tonight. 

“You look real nice in that outfit,” he says, practically drooling over your little black dress and heels. 

“Do I?” You flirtatiously quirk an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” Seungcheol nods, taking a sip of his gin. “I can’t wait to see what you look like underneath.”

It takes every fiber in your being to roll your eyes and walk out of there. Guys like Seungcheol annoy you, and you deal with them in small doses and go about your business. But he is a means to an end, and you will bat your eyes and tell him what he wants to hear to get what you want. You will deal with the consequences in the morning. 

You gaze at the clock displayed on the wall and it’s a quarter till eleven. Tired of hearing him talk, you lean in and whisper in his ear, your lips barely touching him. “Do you want to get out of here then? You said your place isn’t that far, right?”

His eyes are lit with desire, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom while he settles the bill. Stepping into the dimly lit bathroom, you take a good look in the mirror, adjust your dress, and apply the last bit of cherry red lipstick. The soft glow of the overhead light illuminates the traces of perfectly good makeup that you only bring out for special occasions. 

“Is this really what you want?”

Your words echo against the walls, your question answered by silence. With a deep breath, you straighten your posture, taking one last look before exiting the bathroom. Of course, this is what you want— you wouldn’t have gone this far if you didn’t. Seungcheol waits for you at the bar, biting his plump bottom lip as he scrolls through his phone. Seungcheol is as hot as they come, and it certainly makes this decision a bit easier. 

“Are you ready to go?”

He looks up as you close in on him, linking your arm through his. “Of course, I’m going to pull the car around front.”

You watch him walk away, twiddling your fingers as you wait in suspense. The bar smells of wood and stale beer, the heat pushed on blast to counter the cold outside. You slip on your coat, walking towards the front door when you hear laughter, a familiar one that brings butterflies to your stomach. Turning to your left, you see Hansol, walking into the same bar you’re leaving, with Wonwoo and a girl you don’t know. He was always a simple guy, wearing jeans and his favorite “Revenge Of The Nerds” hoodie with a goofy grin on his face. It’s your favorite thing to see.

All the feelings you keep trying to push aside rise in you at once, and when your eyes lock with this, you feel warm. Getting over him will not be easy. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Hansol says curiously. 

“She probably has a hot date,” Wonwoo teases and nudges your shoulder. 

“Well actually… I do.” 

Wonwoo’s mouth spreads into a wide grin, happy to be right. His girl companion tugs onto his coat, mumbling that she is freezing. She’s a short thing with jet-black hair and wears a nice shirt and a skirt that shows off her legs. Wonwoo isn’t the serial dater type, so it is a high possibility he’s on the same mission you were: fuck and move on. 

“Really?” Hansol’s voice peaks an octave higher than normal. “Who’s the guy?”

“O-oh, um, you don’t know him,” you stumble through your words. “He’s just someone I met. We are heading to his place actually.” 

“W-what?” Hansol looks surprised, his expression etched with concern. “Are you sure it's a good idea?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, looking down at your heels. “I’ll send you my location when I’m there, okay?”

In the nick of time, Seungcheol pulls up in his Mercedes, opening the car door from his seat to let you in. 

“There he is,” you announce, walking towards the luxury car. “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Hansol stares intently at Seungcheol before looking at you, his eyes softening as you get into the passenger seat. You wave as he pulls off, the bar becoming out of view as you drive through downtown. Your nerves are shot, and you feel rattled. Of all the places to be, you had to see him at the bar? The universe has a sense of humor. 

“Who were those people back there?” Suengcheol’s deep voice breaks through your thoughts. “The one with the hoodie looked like he was going to pound me.” 

“Oh they are my best friends from college,” you say casually. “Well, I don't know the girl but yeah. Besides, Hansol, the one with the hoodie, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

You can confidently say out of all the years you have known him, Hansol, you have never seen him get aggressive with anyone. The most emotion you see from him is when he talks about cameras, film, or his love for Kel—. 

“I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”

Shaking your head and changing the mood, you strategically place your hand on his thigh, smiling mischievously. “Now are we going to talk about my friends all night, or do you want to do something more exciting?”

To say Hansol is bothered is an understatement. 

You didn’t come home last night and even though he knew where you were, it still gnaws at him. It was unlike you. You always came home. It’s irking him. You are always there. 

Hansol noticed that you hadn’t been around as much, and he assumed it had something to do with work, which he understood since you both work in the same industry. But seeing you with that guy with the fancy Benz, dressed in clothes you rarely wear and your hair different from your usual look—it was all he could think about. You looked beautiful last night, and he wasn’t sure why he didn’t see it before. What maddened him the most was that he couldn’t figure out why. He just knew that you were not there, and it didn’t feel right. 

Hansol slowly got out of his bed and checked the time on his phone, 9:37 am in bold letters on his lock screen. His head raged from the hangover he caught from last night’s drinking. He is a lightweight and he knows he drank more than he should, but he was still dealing with the aftermath of the breakup with Kelsey. It’s been a few weeks and though he was feeling better, he still cared about her. He just wanted to not think or feel for a few hours. Now his thoughts are plagued by you. 

He sauntered out of his room, the sunlight hit him like a wall, momentarily blinding him. He reached for a bottle of water, hoping to ease the throbbing in his head. A few moments later, Wonwoo opened the spare room, yawning and adjusting his glasses. Hansol was too drunk to drive, and Wonwoo was sober enough to take him home. The date that he brought last night, who he learned was named Jules, sheepishly appeared behind him, adjusting her dress as she took her walk of shame. Hansol heard murmuring but couldn’t make out what they were saying, but shortly after the door shut with a click, with Wonwoo leaning against it, an amusing grin on his face. 

“Is that your next victim?” Hansol teased. 

“Eh, maybe,” he shrugged. “She is more tolerable than the others.” 

“Uh-huh,” he surmised, drinking the last bits of his water. “We’ll see how long this one lasts.” 

Wonwoo is a notorious dater if you want to call it that. He has always had the philosophy that being tied down isn’t for him and he would rather run through the mill than be with someone he always likes. He is a fine art photographer who travels quite a bit, and he is always bragging about how it wouldn’t make sense for him to be in a relationship. He blows where the wind goes, and Hansol has always respected that he stayed true to himself. 

Wonwoo chuckled as he grabbed the water next to Hansol, clutching it as he drank it empty. He looked at your closed room door, his eyebrows raised curiously. 

“She isn’t here?” Wonwoo probed, pointing at your door. 

“No,” Hansol mumbled, followed by a slight ping in his chest. “She might still be out.” 

“Uh, huh,” Wonwoo concluded, eyeing him oddly. “Sounds like she had a good night.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Hansol said bitterly, his fingers rubbing his right temple. “It’s not like her to stay overnight at some douche’s house. Something is up.” 

“A douche, huh?” Wonwoo curved into a sly grin. “How do you know the guy is a douche? He could be a cool guy.” 

“Come on, he drives an S-class Mercedes and wears an Apple watch. I’m willing to bet he’s some tech bro.”

“And?” Wonwoo challenged. “That doesn’t make him a bad guy. If I don’t know any better I would say you are jealous.” 

Hansol rolled his eyes at his accusation, though the thought of you canoodling with the tech bro made him feel a certain way. “I’m not jealous. I am just… concerned, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, let’s call it that.” 

The alarm beeped from the front door and you walked in slowly, looking as put together as you did last night. Hansol paled as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and Wonwoo looked amused, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. 

“Oh hey, party girl,” Wonwoo greeted you. “We were just talking about you.”

“Were you now?” You said with raised eyebrows, slowly taking off your heels. 

“Y-yeah, we were wondering if you made it home,” Hansol said nervously. “Well, you’re here now so.”

“Did you have a good time?” Wonwoo probed you further. “Will you see him again?

You look down at the floor, your face heating up from embarrassment. They typically don’t ask about your dating life, so why does it matter now?

“Maybe,” you murmured, biting your lip. “I’m going to go shower and get out of these clothes.” 

Hansol watched you as you walked into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly. He is relieved that you made it home safe, but he still feels conflicted about how he feels. Is he in fact, jealous?

“I’m going to go home and get some sleep,” Wonwoo announced, clapping a hand on Hansol’s shoulder. 

He let himself out and Hansol went back to his room, collapsing on his bed. Stirred emotions and thoughts rumbled through his head, and he closed his eyes, determined to think things through with a clearer head. 

His phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he sluggishly grabbed it, groaning at his notifications. A new message from Kelsey flashed as he swiped up on his screen. “I miss you.”

It’s been over a week since you saw Hansol, and you would be a liar to say that you were fine. You miss him. 

Your night with Seungcheol was fun, and he was a good fuck, but your mind kept drifting back to Hansol… imagining it was him. Seungcheol was nice enough to let you sleep in if you wanted and made sure you were good before you left, but you know it’s not going to go anywhere. Deep down he knows that too. 

God, you are a mess. 

You decided to keep busy with work and find things outside of your condo that made you happy, and that’s what led you here tonight, at the local movie theater. Around this time every year, they play five showings for free as a thank-you for the community supporting the theater for the past ten years. Princess Mononoke is the movie of the night, and you are standing in line, waiting to buy your ticket. It’s one of your favorite comfort movies in the world, and you never miss a chance to watch it, especially when you are feeling down. 

The weather is cooler than what was forecasted, and the slight breeze makes you tug on your coat tightly. You and Hansol did this every year together—and it feels weird alone. Unnatural even. You remember having long discussions about the movies you saw and what made them great. You love seeing the twinkle in his eye when he talks about the type of camera lens that was used and what it took to get certain shots. In return, he would listen to you vividly as you rambled about the time and craft it took to create special effects or a certain mask. Those times made you feel connected with him in a way no one could understand, and it's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. 

You purchase your ticket and walk inside the old building, the smell of buttery popcorn attacking your senses as soon as you open the door. The interior has been the same since you have been coming here, with high lights in the ceilings, vintage movie posters, and the same plush crimson carpet that matches the drapes on the windows. It has character and it feels cozy, like you are a kid again. 

You give the attendant your ticket and he rips the lower stub, pointing you in the direction of which theater room you need to go to. Your stomach rumbled with a slight ache, reminding you that you have not eaten since this morning. You were never really the breakfast type, as you normally just wake up and go about your day. You have a million things on your mind, and just for a little while, you want to shut it off. Princess Mononoke usually does that. 

Your phone buzzes slightly in your jacket and you look at Hansol’s name on the screen, hesitant to answer. It wouldn’t hurt to hear his voice for a little bit, right?

“Hey, you,” you say, biting your lip. 

“Hey, turn around,” he replies, his voice sounding louder than it should. 

Turning around slowly, you watch him walk through the doors, the sunlight trailing behind him like a halo. He sports an old college hoodie, faded jeans, and a smile, and in this moment, he almost takes your breath away. 

“I would ask what you are doing here, but I know better than that,” you joke lightheartedly. 

“Yeah, you know I’ll never miss this,” Vernon says, looking around at the theater. “Man, this place still looks the same.” 

“I know,” you agree, fidgeting with the ticket in your hand. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Because I know you,” he shrug. “I tried calling you to see if you wanted to come tonight, but you never picked up. So I came here.” 

“You called?” You give him a puzzled look. “I don’t remember you ca—”

You scroll through your notifications, seeing the three missed calls from him throughout the day. Even texted you but you didn’t see it. You had your phone on do not disturb mode, and you didn’t think to check any of your messages. Maybe you are just being childish. 

“See,” he nudges your shoulder playfully. “I told you.” 

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes teasingly. “Are you watching Mononoke too?”

“You know it,” he nods. “I’ll grab the popcorn and nachos. Go find us a seat?”

You watch him make his way to the concession stand, butterflies swirling in your stomach as the familiar feeling of home swells in your chest. You head to the third room on the right, snagging seats in the middle row that give you a perfect viewing of the movie. The lights dim as you sit down, with the old previews from 1997 playing on the screen giving you a major flashback to the past. In this moment you feel good and content, despite wanting to come here alone and avoid Hansol at all costs. You wouldn’t call yourself a fickle person, but you are glad your plans did change. Being around him feels just right. 

The movie starts a few minutes later, and Hansol appears right as it starts, searching the rows until he finds you. His face softens and his lips curve into a smile, taking a seat next you and handing you a popcorn and a cherry coke. 

“I haven’t missed anything, have I?”

You shake your head softly, avoiding his gaze and the pitter-patter he gives your heart. 

“No, you made it just in time.”

Hansol had a good time with you. 

It felt comfortable and familiar to be with you while he watched one of his favorite movies. He didn’t actually know that you were going to be there; he just took a chance and hoped you would be there, and like fate, you were standing in the middle of the theater. There was no awkwardness, he didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells every time he had something on his mind. You just got him, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since then, and you have been hanging at the house more. Before he was lucky to catch you in the mornings when you left for work or you would come home late at night when he was already asleep. Even though things were getting back to normal, his thoughts of you continued to grow, and even though he wasn't sure of a lot of things, he knew one thing: he had missed you. 

“Earth to Vernon, hello?”

Hansol snapped out of his thoughts, refocusing on Kelsey as he sat across from her at her house. She asked him to come over and talk, and after thinking it over, he agreed, setting up a time to talk when she came back in town. Kelsey looked beautiful, sporting a white halter top and blue jean shorts, her skin sun-kissed from the vacation she took to the Cayman Islands. Her raven-black hair fell past her shoulders, swaying slightly as she talked about her trip. 

“Where is your head at today?” Kelsey pouted, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I feel like you aren’t listening to me.”

Hansol shook his head, shaking you out of his mind. “I’m listening. All I do is listen.” 

“No, you don’t,” Kelsey retorted. “You didn’t listen to me about the party or kick that girl out of your condo—”

“I already told you, that’s not happening,” Vernon pushed back. “ And that girl has a name. Why would I kick her out? It makes no sense.” 

“You know why Vernon.” 

“No, I don’t. You’re being unreasonable.” 

Kelsey rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. “We have been together almost three years and you haven’t asked me to move in. I asked you plenty of times to think about our future and to limit your time with her. You refuse to do it. Why is that?”

“Whoa, that’s bullshit!” Hansol’s anger rose through his chest. “You have never said “let’s move in together” or anything like that. If anything, all you have talked about lately is getting you into industry parties to build your brand. Also, I did start spending less time with her. What are you on about?”

“Because I am supposed to be your best friend!” Kelsey shouted. “You don’t even do the same things with me that you do with her. I bet she leaps with joy every time we have a break.” 

“She’s not like that,” Hansol said defensively. “She’s always been there for me and encouraged me to work it out with you. To your other point, every time I ask you to do something with me, something I want to do for once, you say it’s childish and that I need to grow up” 

“Because Vernon, who the hell still watches Star Wars?” Kelsey scoffs. “You are not a nine-year-old boy. You’re a grown man. Fucking act like it.” 

Hansol sighed, feeling drained and defeated. Star Wars meant a lot to him, as it was the main inspiration for why he wanted to get into cinematography and study film. It’s how he bonded with his dad. She knew that and still decided to insult him about it every chance she got. He wasn’t sure what the future looked like before he arrived, but the tension he felt in his chest and the ache in his heart made things a lot more clear. He still cared about Kelsey, more than he should, but it’s time to move on

“This… isn’t going to work,” Hansol rubbed his temple. “The fact that you still call me Vernon, knowing how formal it makes me feel, says a lot. I don’t know what happened to the girl I fell in love with, but clearly she’s gone. We’re done.” 

“Yeah, right,” Kelsey said incredulously. “You aren’t leaving me—”

“Yes, I am.” Hansol resolved. “This relationship has been one-sided for a while now. I’m sick of this.” 

Hansol got up from the table and handed her his copy of her apartment key. Kelsey looked bewildered, realizing that he was serious, and he wasn’t coming back this time. 

“So that’s it? You are just going to throw this all away? For her? She’s in love with you and you don’t even see it. All the times you have let her disrespect me and put up with her crap. I bet this was her idea.”

“You weren’t exactly nice to her either,” Hansol retorted, his heart beating out his chest. “She has been there for me when you weren’t. She cares about what I’m interested in. We like the same things. I don’t have to wonder if she cares about me and my family loves her. She’s smart, kind, beautiful and I love he—”

He stopped himself before he completed his sentence, shook at what was about to come out of his mouth. He was still grappling with his feelings for you and what that meant, and he still couldn’t put any words to what it all meant… until now.

“It’s not just about her,” Hansol said. “It’s everything with us, and the fact that you still don’t get it, tells me everything I need to know. Take care, Kelsey.”

He left the apartment before she started her next tirade, with a storm brewing in the night sky. He hated the way she talked about you like you were insignificant. You didn’t deserve the vitriol Kelsey spat every time you came up in conversation. You weren’t the warmest person, but you always made him feel seen and were there for him no matter what. You got his humor and his late-night thoughts about the latest webtoon he just read. His thoughts of you biting your lip when you’re nervous or the quirky thing you do with your eyebrow when you tell a story; he loved it all. It took for this to happen to see what he had in front of him all this time. He missed you when you aren’t around and it drove him crazy to see you on a date with that tech bro. 

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut as he turned the ignition: he’s been in love with you this whole time. Now how the hell does he tell you that?

The harsh sound of thunder makes the hairs on your neck stand up, dropping your iPad on your lap. It’s suddenly dark in your room, light from the partly cloudy day gone and replaced by storm clouds and flashing lightning. Your condo sits on the 10th floor, and the sound is much more elevated, sending chills down your spine. You hate being alone when it storms. 

You heard Hansol leave earlier and you wanted to clear your head, and so you decided to work on some sketches for a project that is happening at work. You are creating a few masks for an upcoming horror movie, and you are throwing out a few ideas that may interest the producers. The only problem is that you never got around to actually work; instead you were drawing doodles around you and Hansol’s name like a teenager. 

Every attempt you have made to distance yourself from him has become futile, and you decide to just accept the situation for what it was. Maybe one day you will work up the courage to tell him how you feel, but not being around him is agonizing, and you would rather have your best friend back than not have him at all. You can’t help the way he makes you feel, and until something changes, you’re okay with where things are… for now. 

Another crackling sound of thunder makes you yelp, knocking your iPad on the floor and cracking the corner of the screen. 

“Shit,” you mumble, looking at the damage. 

Your nerves are shot, and you decide to make some tea to calm yourself while the storm rages outside. You place your iPad safely on the bed and slip out of your room, heading to the kitchen as the wind picks up and hurls rain against the windows. It amazes you how the day can go from sunny and hopeful to dark and tragic within a few minutes. Mother nature must be on one today, you think to yourself. 

The alarm door beeps and Hansol walks in, completely unscathed by the storm. He slides off his black beanie that covers his short brown hair and lets out a sigh of relief as he locks the door behind him. His eyes met yours, and a small smile spread across your face. 

“You made it just in time,” you say, pouring water into your teapot. “It’s about to get ugly out there.” 

“Yeah.” he nods, his gaze fixed on the darkened windows. 

You could tell something is bothering him, as you watch him take off his shoes and put up his jacket, but you don’t know what to say. Things have been so good between you two, yet the last time he opened up, he shared something you weren’t ready to hear. Despite everything, your concern for him remains strong, and you can’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Hansol replies, lost in thought. “Kelsey and I are done for good.” 

“Oh?” you exclaim. “What’s changed?”

Vernon sits on the couch and you follow him, sitting cross-legged and across from him as he shares his feelings. “I went over there to talk to her, and I just realized that she just used me. She didn’t care about me or what I liked. It was always about her and what he wanted… plus she said some ridiculous things about you.”

“Did she now?” You quirk an eyebrow in curiosity. “What did she have to say about me?”

You aren’t surprised that she probably said some rude things about you. It’s not like you were her biggest fan either and you didn’t hide it. Kelsey wouldn’t ever say it to your face though, and that always made you chuckle. 

“She said you were in love with me and that you were happy every time we broke up.” 

The words don’t register right away. You can’t have heard him say what you think he said. “She said what now?”

“She said that you were in love with me,” his words tumbling out like a confession.

Your heart starts racing, the feelings of disbelief and anger stirring in your chest. That wasn’t her secret to share. “I.. can’t believe she said that.” 

“Neither can I,” Hansol sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not like you have feelings for me, and wouldn’t tell me… right?”

Your breath catches, a deep ache forming in the pit of your stomach. This is something you longed for and dreaded for a long time. You could deny it and keep things the way they are, or finally tell him how you feel and change your dynamic forever. 

“Hansol, I—”

“Are you in love with me?” He interrupts, his gaze intense. “I need to know if this is real.”

“What do you mean? And why does it matter?” You say bitterly. “ You are in love with Kelsey and will just go back to her. You always do.” 

“What if I don’t?” 

Your heart is pounding, and you take a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything. “What do you mean if you don’t?”

“I told you, I am done with her,” Hansol reiterates. “These past few weeks without her opened my eyes to a lot of things, and while I have been thinking about her less, you’ve been on my mind more.”

“What are you saying, Hansol?”

“I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you.”

The air is thick with uncertainty as his words echo in your head. You should be happy, relieved even that he wants to be with you. But in the midst of that, you are scared. What if it doesn’t work? What if he regrets all of this in the morning and decides to take it all back? You couldn’t handle that. 

“I… Kelsey wasn’t far off,” you admit, biting your lip. “I wasn’t necessarily happy when you were sad about her, but I have always felt like you deserved better.” You pause to gather your thoughts. “I am in love with you, Hansol.  I tried to put my feelings away and move on, date, or whatever. But every time I’m near you, it just hurts.”

Hansol pulls you into a warm hug, and you fully embrace his scent and the comfort you feel. You’ve imagined times like this when he would hold you in his arms and caress your face. You craved it even, wishing you could hear his heartbeat and feel him in ways you haven’t. But this feels too good to be true, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is real, or another dream. 

“Are you sure you want to be with me?” you speak up. “You just broke up with her and I don’t want to be some rebound you’ll regret later—”

He kisses you. His soft lips press against yours earnestly, and you melt against him, losing the remaining inhibition you had in you. He leans you back against the couch; his kisses becoming deeper, igniting a fire in you that you thought would stay dormant forever. 

“Does that feel like I’m unsure about what I want?” He breathes heavily. 

“I don’t know,” a smile creeps on your lips, a mix of joy and relief flooding through your veins. “I think I might need another one just to be sure.”

He kisses you again and you return his vigor, your fingers entangled in his hair as you savor the moment. His hands glide down to your waist, touching the hem of your shorts that you hope he’ll tear away. You pause, nodding that it’s okay, watching him slowly slide your shorts down your legs. 

“No panties?” His need is evident, almost salivating at the mouth. 

Your face heats up as you briefly become shy. “It’s laundry day,” you mumble. 

You gaze at each other before erupting into laughter, any remaining tension that was there gone immediately. This is how it always is with him, easy and light. He doesn’t have second or third questions, he just immediately understands. You couldn’t have fallen in love with a better person. 

“I-I love you, Hansol,” you managed to say. “You don’t have to say it back yet, I know we have to figure this out. But just know, I love you.” 

Hansol leans in for another kiss; this time it’s sweeter, tender, with enough meaning to know what it meant,  “Don’t worry, I love you too.” 

And with that, he stands up, taking your hand and leading you to his room. Kicking the door shut, you tear off each other's clothes, excitement and lust pouring through you as you lay on his bed, watching him climb over you. His body presses against yours, your arms wrap around his neck and back, your need for him growing stronger as he leaves kisses on your neck. “I need you so bad.” 

Hansol groans as his hands grab your breasts, mesmerized by your hardened mounds. He sucks on each other carefully, his eyes closed as if he is savoring the taste. He worships your body, his tongue trailing down your stomach until he reaches your core, spreading your legs apart. You’ve played so many scenarios on what your first time with him would be like, and what kind of lover he would be. This is better than you’ve imagined. 

“You’re so wet… for me?” he says in disbelief. “I get you like this?”

You bite your lip, nodding slowly as you anticipate his next move. He slips a digit inside of you, watching you squirm as he fingers you slowly. 

“Oh god,” you praise him as he adds another one. “Just like that, please.” 

Hansol leans down and lashes his tongue against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. The sheets bunch in your fists, your knuckles stretching out as his relentless mouth laps up your essence, savoring every drop. He explores every inch of your softness, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. His hands stroke his cock which is leaking with precum. You are ascending to a high that you never want to come down from. 

“H-Hansol,” your voice is grained with need. “I’m so close.”

He moans in response, his breath hot against your skin, and the sound vibrates through you, intensifying the coil of tension within. Your orgasm crashes over you, a tidal wave of bliss completely taking over you, whimpering his name as your legs tremble around him. White starts clouding your vision and you feel like you are on air, floating away into paradise. You feel him groan against your thigh, and you look down slightly, his cock dripping with his load as it coats his hand. You collapse on his pillow, trying to catch your breath, slowly coming down from cloud nine. You hear him leave and come back a few moments later, wiping you down with a warm rag. 

“Aww, that’s sweet of you,” you tease him, closing your legs slightly. 

“I’m sorry for that being short,” he says, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I usually can last longer than that, you know… I don’t know what happened.”

You prop yourself up, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

You pull him into a hug, softly kissing his cheek and motioning for him to lay down with you. He climbs over you and hugs you from behind, cradling you so close you can feel his heartbeat. The sunlight peeks through the window, a sign that the storm finally passed. Happiness can’t even describe the word you are feeling right now.

“Fuck. R-right there.”

Hansol wanted to make up for last night’s performance, so he woke you up with kisses to your face, your neck, the curves on your body and most importantly, in between your legs. The way you grabbed his hair went his tongue went deeper, or the way you begged for him to fuck you. He was addicted to all of it. It was like he was making love for the first time.

“Please Hansol, I need you.”

He quickly slipped on a condom and slowly entered you, watching the way your lips parted as he inched in a little more.

“Are you okay? I am not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head slowly as you held onto his arms, looking into his eyes with a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” you bit your lip. “I can take it.”

He almost came right then and there, hearing you talk like that. Feeling safe with him. He never experienced that with Kelsey, the feeling of being wanted, and truly loved.

He moved slowly, wanting to make sure you could handle it, and he was mesmerized by the way you looked when you were being pleasured. You goaded him for more, and he did that, stroking deeper while your nails dug into his back. You were tight, warm and welcoming like you were made for him. He loved the way your breasts bounced when he thrust harder and the blunt curses that left your lips when he lifted your legs. 

If Hansol could, he would fuck you all day and night to make up for the past time wasted. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, and he wasn't the best with words, so this would do… for now

“I’m gonna cum—”

His mouth covered yours as your legs shuddered underneath him, your orgasm ripping through you like a hurricane. Your body glistened with sweat, your eyes wet from tears from being fucked out and he couldn't hold back anymore, his thrusts becoming erratic as he emptied himself into the condom.

Hansol thought he was in love before, and maybe it was because it was you, but he hadn't felt this alive in a long time. You were precious to him, and all he wanted to do was lay with you and watch movies all day, talk about mundane things…it didn't matter as long as he was with you.

“I… have a confession to make,” you said breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“I always wondered… what it would be like. With you.”

He watched you bury yourself in his sheets, feeling shy about your confession. Hansol chuckled, slowly pulling out of you and riding himself of the condom. 

“So, did I live up to your expectations?” He asked tentatively.

You gently pull down the covers, smiling at him softly. “This is better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

tagging: @heechwe @junniesoleilkth @iheartnonie @jaeyunsprincxss

[tthoroughfare]

crush (part 2) // abby anderson

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: i owe you a black eye and two kisses. tell me when you wanna come and get 'em. abby finally confronts her feelings in the spur of the moment, then gets scared and runs away. it all works out in the end, though.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: canon!abby x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: nsfw. nothing too crazy just some yearny sesbian lex using hands. light injury description and abby being a horrible communicator

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.9k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

i hope you enjoy the second part! i'm so down to write more of this so lmk if anyone wants it

abby keeps it all to herself. she enjoys having you as a friend, and reasons that it’s better not to mess it all up. just because you like her whole entire gender doesn’t mean you like her. plus, she’s not even sure about what she’s feeling. figures that if she actually wasn’t straight, she’d surely have already known by now. but then again, she didn’t know you back then. didn’t feel what she feels around you.

then, one night, you’ve been around at hers, drinking and watching a movie with manny. she’d accidentally overindulged, possibly (definitely) out of nerves. you’d had to drag the chair and beanbag over in front of the TV, you and abby both piling onto the beanbag, chair not big enough to hold the two of you.

there was still barely enough room, and you were pressed up against her. at first, you were awkwardly perched, body rigid; but then, as the film went on and you had a little more to drink, you found yourself sinking into the seat, further into her.

by the end of it, your head is comfortably on her shoulder, laughing and chatting freely — she can smell your hair, feel the heat of your body against her, and she truly thinks she might combust.

once it’s gotten late, you say you’d better be heading back to your own place. abby tipsily insists on walking you back, even though it’s really not necessary. like, at all.

you jovially chat and giggle on the way back through the stadium, and all you can remember thinking is how glad you are that you met her. how rare it is for you to know someone who you feel so connected to, who everything feels so easy with almost instantaneously.

when you get to your door, she lingers around, keeping the conversation going even after you say goodnight — like she wants something from you, wants to say something but can’t. there’s a moment where it drops quiet, and she’s just looking at you. studying your face, maintaining eye contact for probably longer than she ever has. that’s when you realize she’s automatically drifted closer.

and then, liquid courage coursing through her veins and affirmed by you leaning on her earlier, she kisses you.

it’s quick, and you don’t return it. not because you don’t want to, but out of pure shock — never in a million years would you have seen it coming. you’d fully shelved your crush on her, under the impression it was never going to happen.

before you have a real chance to react, she pulls back, cheeks tinged red.

you speak at the same time: her blurting out, "sorry, fuck"; you simply shaking your head a little, stuttering, “a-abby, i…”

a beat passes, you slightly open-mouthed, abby’s hands anxiously fiddling with themselves at her sides. immediately, she’s sober. “fuck, i-i’m sorry. that was stupid.”

“no, abby, it’s just—“ before you can finish your sentence, she mutters something inaudible and turns, beginning to stride off down the hall, feeling like a fucking idiot. of course you didn’t like her, and she’d just drunkenly ruined it all for nothing.

your call of her name, followed by a, ‘wait!�� falls on deaf ears, and she turns the corner, gone. you’re left stunned, frozen outside your door, trying to process what just happened.

you want to go after her, have her allow you to explain yourself, but decide against it. you don’t know if she really meant it, you don’t know what her reasons were for running off; you don’t know what the fuck to do. so, despite every ounce of yourself begging you not to, you simply go inside and try your best to sleep. you can’t, though, mind whirring for hours on end until you finally pass out.

the next morning, you pray you run into her. usually, you always saw her at some point, but it was like she was avoiding everywhere you might be.

you see manny in the canteen later in the day, catching up to him and asking him where she is; he just shrugs, saying that she’d picked up an extra assignment and headed out that morning. might not be back for a day or two.

you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms. you knew it was on purpose. all over a kiss. “are you fucking kidding me?”

he gives you a funny look. “you two have a fight or something? she was… quiet when she came back.”

rolling your eyes, you shake your head after a moment. basically the opposite. “no… no, we didn’t.”

“right.” he quirks an eyebrow slightly, taking a breath. “you want me to talk to her when i see her?”

you shake your head vehemently, furrowing your brow. “nah, nah, don’t. just… let me know when she gets back, please?”

he nods once, tapping the side of your arm. “you got it.”

you utter out a thanks, and with that you’re off.

you don’t want to be mad at her, but you are. you don’t know why she’s running away from you, quite literally putting her life on the line just so she doesn’t have to face you. what makes it so much worse is she didn’t even give you a chance. if she’d have just heard you out instead of storming off, there wouldn’t even be an issue in the first place.

the next morning arrives, and abby’s still not back. the whole day, you fight the urge to walk over to her apartment and knock on the door every five minutes. you know manny said a day or two, but you can’t help but anxiously await her return the moment it’s plausible.

you try to keep yourself busy with work, but all your mind does is wander back to her. thinking about what she’s doing, if she’s okay, what you’re going to say to her when she gets back. you replay the kiss over and over in your head, scrutinizing every millisecond of it. what if the reason she freaked out was that she only did it because she was drunk, immediately realized she regretted it, and that’s why she’s avoiding you?

her absence just gives you too much time to worry, conjure up every worst case scenario. by the end of it, you’re essentially convinced she doesn’t like you, that it was a mistake, and now your friendship will never be the same.

finally, around noon the day after, manny collars you in the hallway and lets you know abby’s back. you let out a half relieved, half nervous sigh, nodding and thanking him. you can’t go talk to her right away — you’re too swamped with work, on your way back from the shortest lunch break known to man, but you know the second you’ve called it a day, you’re finding her.

it’s not until almost eight that you finally get to a place where you can break off, leaning back in your chair and running your hands over your face. you pack a few items away hurriedly, heart beating in your chest as you make your way over to abby’s.

it’s not her who answers the door, though — it’s manny. you blow air out of your nose at the fact you’re seeing more of him than her at this point.

“where is she?” you question gently, as if he doesn’t already know what you want.

the corners of his mouth quirk. “guess.”

“library?”

he clicks his tongue in affirmation, and you roll your eyes fondly before telling him you’ll see him later, turning to make your way down there.

standing outside the door, you realize how nervous you are. you’ve wanted nothing more than to see abby since it happened, but now the moment’s here you can’t help but feel hesitant about all the ways the conversation could go.

after a beat of psyching yourself up, you gingerly crack the door open, spotting her on the ottoman before gently wrapping your knuckles as you peer in. “knock, knock.”

she looks up, an unreadable expression on her face.

“can i come in?”

she pauses, sitting up properly and placing her book to the side. “uh… sure.”

you smile gratefully, picking your way in and softly closing the door behind you. you make your way over, taking a seat next to her with your hands folded in your lap, avoiding eye contact. “so…”

you can see her fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt in your peripheral vision. “so…?”

looking up at her, you go to say your rehearsed spiel, then the words get caught in your throat when you notice the injuries littering her face. a couple of gashes are set into her forehead and chin, purple blossoming over her cheekbone.

“what the hell have you done to your face?” it comes out a little more frustrated than the caring tone you intend, but you are frustrated. if she’d have stayed and listened, she wouldn’t have been avoiding you, and in turn wouldn’t have gone off and gotten herself hurt. you pivot your body to face her side, knee bending to rest your left leg sideways.

“it’s not anything.”

you tut, unable to help yourself from reaching out and running your thumb tenderly over the bruising. she pulls away from your touch slightly, to which you shoot her a look. “worse than i ever get.”

“you’re sheltered.”

she says it matter-of-fact, and you know it’s true. you’ve always had it better than her, better than most, never really being required to go into the field. both your parents are still alive, a rarity nowadays, both academics. the last time you were in real danger was simply when you were being moved into the base, going from safe point A to safe point B. 

still, it stings a little.

“yeowch,” you respond as you allow your hand to drop from her skin, only half joking. “there’s no need to be mean, abby.”

she rolls her eyes, still keeping her sight trained firmly ahead. “i’m not being…” she trails off, shaking her head a little and looking down at her hands. she moves to lean forward, forearms resting on her knees.

a pause passes that feels like an eternity, until you finally will yourself to speak. your voice is soft, low. “why did you run off on me the other night?”

she gnaws at her lip, not saying anything for a moment. “can we just forget about that? it was…”

“a mistake, i know. you were… you’d had a few drinks. i know you didn’t mean anything by it.” you finish her sentence for her, and she sighs and shakes her head in annoyance at how wrong you have it.

she swallows thickly in defeat, urging the words to come. she might as well tell you; she’s already basically fucked everything up. what does she have to lose?

“that’s… not it.” her words come out quiet, and she looks at you for the first time since you walked in, hands wringing in her lap.

you automatically shuffle a tiny bit closer, her leg warm against yours. “then what is it?”

“i didn’t… it wasn’t… because i was drunk. it was because i wanted to.” she takes a deep breath, shoulders sinking. “and then… you reacted all… i don’t know. anyway… you don’t see me like that. can we just move on?”

you look at her, mouth opening and closing a little. your brow furrows. “oh my god. are you serious?”

“what?” she replies, a little defensively.

“i reacted like that because i was fucking shocked. as far as i was aware, you didn’t even like girls, never mind me, and then you just kissed me out of nowhere. i didn’t know how to react. and then, you didn’t even give me chance to say anything and just walked off, and then i don’t see you for two days,” you blurt out, floodgates opened.

it’s her turn to be speechless again, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. “so… w-what are you saying?”

you don’t even bother to answer, knowing you can show her tenfold better than you can tell. you pull her up to you, hand resting on her jaw, pressing your lips to hers with a gentle urgency. she freezes for a split second before kissing back, one hand leaning on the ottoman behind you, the other coming up to cup your cheek.

you shift further in subconsciously, right leg going over one of hers and your free arm wrapping around her neck.

“jesus christ, abby,” you mumble against her lips between adoring smooches, “i can’t believe you.”

she breathes out a chuckle. “sorry.”

you have sex for the first time that night. you invite her to stay over, not even having those expectations. you just want to be with her, want to feel close to her, wake up side by side.

but then it drops late, and your lights are on low, having spent the evening conversing on your bed with the tv droning in the background. you’re both on your sides facing each other, propped up by an elbow. and you look so pretty in the dim yellow light, she can’t help herself from leaning in and kissing you, dripping with want.

you end up on top of her, fingertips stroking over either side of her face, hers pressing into your hips. all you can hear is your own pulse banging in your head, the labored, rapid breaths the two of you let out into each other’s mouths.

you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything this much. you can feel yourself soaking your underwear, and nothing’s even happened.

abby swallows thickly, pulling back for a moment, knowing where this is all going. “you know i’ve never…” she trails off, implicating the last few words, voice husked with arousal.

you pause to look at her, lidded eyes dragging over her face, a slightly amused smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“i know,” you respond, leaning back in to mouth at the corner of hers, before kissing down to her jaw. you continue to speak against her skin, voice low. “you’ll figure it out.”

and she sure does.

you make love to each other. it’s all slow, and testing, but wanting and desperate. a lot of abby asking every two minutes if what she’s doing feels good, you guiding her and showing her how you like it. when you first flip her on top of you, tenderly taking her hair out from its braid and running your fingers through it, leading her hand under your waistband and showing her how wet you’ve gotten for her, she truly doesn’t know how the fuck she was ever, ever uncertain about her feelings.

you take your shirt off, baring yourself to her, then hers, needing to feel your skin flush against one another. her hands automatically move to make quick work of the lower half of your clothing, gaining confidence. and then you’re naked, spread out underneath her, all flushed and open mouthed, hips shifting into hers desperately — and it’s just like something takes over her.

she kisses over your chest languidly, exploring, needing to taste your skin. you gently take her wrist, moving her hand back between your legs, and your head falls back when she runs a finger through your folds. it’s a little clumsy, a little anxious, but abby’s a quick learner. she finds a rhythm, circling your clit as her mouth attaches to your nipple.

“abby, fuck…” you moan shakily, one hand tightening around her wrist, keeping her where it feels good, the other gripping lightly at her hair.

“is that okay?” she asks. she’s looking up at you reverently, desperate to impress, and the sight sends even more heat pooling in your lower belly.

you nod hungrily and your hand moves from her wrist to her waistband, voice coming out a lot more needy than you intend. “take these off.”

she obeys you without a word, and your free hand immediately goes to touch her, spreading her apart and toying with her clit, reveling in the noises it draws.

you make each other cum like that, touching each other at the same time, all needy and yearning. you’re first, abby’s nerves getting the best of her, you unable to help yourself. it all builds and builds until it hits you hard, breathy, high pitched moans and whines of her name tumbling out against her shoulder. hearing you, seeing you like that sends her absolutely reeling, and it’s not long until she’s there too. you pull her face level to yours with your free hand, threading your fingers through her hair, needing to look at her as she cums.

she looks so pretty, eyes screwed shut and brows drawn, parted lips rosy as she pants her way through her orgasm, unable to help the string of mmphs and low, strangled moans that escape her.

you work her through it, slowing your movements gradually, stroking at her face as she comes down. it’s quiet for a moment, just the sounds of the forgotten movie across the room and both of you attempting to regain your breathing.

“okay?” you ask, voice barely a whisper.

she nods, eyes still closed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. then, her mouth twitches, corners forming a small smile. “yeah. fuck.”

you mirror her, a tiny smile of your own tugging at your lips. “good.”

kissing her nose lightly, you shift your hand away from her pussy and pop your messy fingers in your mouth, cleaning her off you, relishing in her taste.

she watches through hazy eyes, committing the sight to memory.

yeah. she’s never looking back.

[kyeomofhearts]

Need Somebody | J.WW

+ summary: a heart-to-heart conversation with your best friend leads to an unexpected confession…

+ pair: wonwoo x gn!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: hurt/comfort, it was never platonic lol, mutual pining, angst, fluff. (I really tried keeping the reader gender-neutral but I’m not 100% sure it is so please lmk if I need to make any changes!)

[borders created by @enchanthings <3]

“So when do you plan on settling down?” Your mother had asked you over dinner. God, you hated the holidays.

Never in your life have you ever dated anyone.

Not that you needed to.

It's not like you haven't had anyone take interest in you either, there would be some people here and there who would pursue you for a bit. You were just simply not interested in them.

Of course, there would be times when you would feel the loneliness creep in even more than usual. But you usually reasoned to yourself that the right person would come with time.

Except tonight happened to be one of those nights.

You see, your family had just left your place a few hours ago. With the holidays coming and going, your family had begun to visit you more often.

Now you obviously loved your family, but man, did they get on your nerves.

Being the youngest amongst your siblings was becoming more difficult as the years passed by. Seeing them get married one by one definitely didn’t help with your case either.

Your mom started to fear for your so-called ‘future’. Which irritated you since you had everything you needed for the most part, that being a well-paying job and a nice place.

Which is exactly what happened today. Your parents (alongside your siblings) started asking you non-stop questions over your love life.

“Mom please don’t,” you tried to keep your tone respectful but it was getting difficult when you weren’t seeing an end to these invasive questions.

“What? All of your other siblings have gotten married… don’t you think that’s it’s time you do too?” Her tone was bordering a slight feeling of concern and stress.

You stayed quiet for a beat, trying to give her a response that would help get her off your back until the next time she saw you.

“We’ve talked about this, I’m not in a rush and surely it will-“ before you could finish your sentence your mom was already finishing it for you.

“-happen with time I know. But don’t you think you are being too picky at this point? Prince Charming doesn’t exist, so stop waiting for him.”

There it was.

Just because you didn’t date around didn’t mean that you were picky.

You just didn’t like wasting your time with the wrong people, that's all it was.

But before you could counter, one of your siblings quickly changed the subject before things eventually escalated into something worse.

And just like that, the rest of your evening had been soured by that single conversation with your mother.

Even hours after your family had left, you still felt bothered by your mother’s disapproving comments.

…

Needless to say, you called the only person who would be awake at one in the morning.

Wonwoo.

You and Wonwoo have been close friends for a few years, having first met in your senior year of college.

At first he was just an acquaintance, someone you thought you would see once in a while. But he somehow happened to be everywhere you were.

You don’t really remember how the two of you actually became friends, it could have been through a mutual friend or class that you shared. But ever since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

You might have had the tiniest crush on him too but you don’t really like thinking about that. You like to think you grew past that stage.

“yn? Is everything okay?” His voice was slightly groggy… shit you might have woken him up.

“Fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep? I’ll leave you-“

What was it with people cutting you off mid-sentence?

“-No I wasn’t. I actually just woke up from my nap, what’s up?”

Wonwoo and his naps. At this point they should not be called naps considering how long he sleeps for.

“Oh you know… just had the best talk with my family.”

You could hear him audibly smile. Wonwoo knew that you didn’t always have the best times with your family, having heard your countless rants throughout the years.

“What did they say this time?” He asked with faux enthusiasm.

“More like what did my mom say. She just kept asking me when I plan on getting married and that I should stop being picky.” As much as you tried to act nonchalant about it, you were really upset by the way things had turned out.

Wonwoo quickly took notice in your slightly wavering voice. It wasn’t normal for you to get emotional over small fights like this. It must have been serious enough for you to remain bothered even after your family had left.

“Hey, don’t take it to heart. I know your mom can say some out of pocket things but try to not let it get to you.” Wonwoo was not the best at comforting people, even he knew that, but he always tried his best to comfort you.

“I know but it’s so…. irritating? Like she told me to stop waiting for Prince Charming as if I’m a little kid.” You wanted to say more but once you started ranting you knew Wonwoo would not be able to keep up.

“I’ve told her so many times that I don’t want to waste my time with the wrong person. I don’t get how she doesn’t understand that!”

Relax. Just take a deep breath and wait for his response.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Even though Wonwoo had been over to your place a numerous amount of times, you still couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat race at the thought of him coming over.

“No, it’s okay I promise. I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

One thing you had learned about Wonwoo was that he was a bit assertive when he was concerned about you.

“Hmmm… doesn’t matter I’m coming over.”

It was always shocking to see him get this bold, seeing how reserved he was with everyone else.

“What was the point in asking then?” You tried sounding annoyed but you knew that your smile was very audible.

“Just wanted to make you feel like you had a choice.” You could hear his cockiness through the phone and somehow, it made your heart do somersaults.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be coming over?” Like always, you tried playing it cool, never wanting to show Wonwoo how his words got to you. Maybe he did notice, but if he did, he never said anything about it.

“Never… I’ll see you in ten.”

And just like that he ended the call.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like when he eventually got a girlfriend. Wonwoo is a good-looking guy, you’re surprised he hasn’t been snatched up yet. Not that you’re worried or anything, but… you know, things will surely change once he finds the one.

Maybe it was you being selfish, but you try to take advantage of the little time you have left before either one of you finds a partner. You know it’s bound to happen at some point, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

It actually took Wonwoo a little over thirty minutes to get to your place, which was weird considering you live pretty close to each other.

What was also weird was that he knocked. He never knocked anymore considering that he had a key to your place.

“Hey, what took you so-“ opening the door you were greeted with a slightly disheveled Wonwoo.

Oh.

Wonwoo’s hands were filled with plastic bags. You could see snacks poking out of through some of the bags and… regular groceries? What grocery store is open at this hour?

“Couldn’t come over empty handed.” He stated simply.

Before he stepped another foot you decided to help him with the load. You could imagine how tiring it must have been for him to carry the bags all the way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Seeing him like this felt oddly comforting. It looked like he was just returning home from a long day at work.

“You really didn’t have to Won…” As much as you liked to play it cool, you couldn’t help but swoon over his actions. It was hard to when he was just so caring.

“But I wanted to… everything I do is by my own will you know,” he softly smiled at you while ruffling your hair.

Before you were able to respond, he quickly offered you your favorite bag of chips.

“Sit down, I’ll put everything away.”

And just like that, he quickly went to work. It helped that he knew where everything went so it didn’t take him long before he joined you on the sofa.

“So… rough night?” He asked gently, despite being so bold through the phone. Seeing your defeated face always put a sour taste in his mouth, which made him more careful with his words.

“You could say that.” You tried to laugh it off, but he knew that you were bothered.

“I know dealing with your family is hard but just know that I’m always here for you.” He lightly grabbed your hands over to his, rubbing soft circles over your palms.

This always seemed to do the trick, seeing your tense shoulders drop into a more relaxed position.

“And I’m grateful for that Won… but sometimes it really gets to me you know?” You tried avoiding looking into his eyes because you knew that one look would break the dam building up in your eyes.

“Maybe she is right… maybe I am being too unreasonable. Like as much as I like to think that the right guy will come through one day… what if he doesn’t?”

This seemed to annoy Wonwoo. He never wanted to see you settle for less, because he knew that you deserved better.

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed your chin to make you look directly into his eyes.

“Never say that again. You should never settle for less. You know better than that.” He was obviously annoyed but not at you. He hated when others tried to make you take less than what you truly deserve.

His fingers on your chin stayed, making your skin slightly tingle from his touch.

As great as he was at comforting you, the thoughts of him someday not being able to be there for you started to cloud your mind. It was bound to happen, either you or Wonwoo would find someone and eventually stop hanging out. Wonwoo seemed to notice the shift in your sadness, eyes becoming glossy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he muttered softly.

“It’s nothing,” you weren’t sure if he actually heard your response since it was barely audible to you.

Wonwoo gave you that look. The one he always used when he wasn’t convinced by your responses. You didn't want to tell him about your fear because it would then expose your feelings for him. And that was one thing you could never risk, your friendship. No matter how strong your feelings would get, you couldn't let him become aware of them.

“Talk to me,” his eyes were pleading. He just wanted you to completely open up to him the way he did with you.

There was no way out of this. Obviously, you weren’t going to tell him the actual reason behind your sadness. You had to give him something to get him off your trail.

“Well, it’s just that sometimes it does feel lonely. And having my mom point out the obvious makes me feel like a lost cause. I’m also not getting any younger, so now I feel like I have to rush into something or else my ‘good’ years would have gone to waste…” While this wasn’t the actual thing that was bothering you tonight, it was at least something believable.

Wonwoo seemed to have bought it, since he stopped giving you those judging eyes. He stayed quiet, most likely trying to find the right thing to say.

He cleared his throat after a beat or so.

“Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something else bothering you, if you don’t want to tell me then just say that.”

How? How did he know you that you were lying?

Maybe this was your chance. Your chance to tell him how you felt about it because if you truly thought about it, there was no future with him either way. Either he rejects you or he finds someone, they both lead to you not being in his life in the future.

You took in deep breath, gathering all of your courage before speaking.

“If I tell you, please don’t judge me-“

He immediately cut you off, “Why would I judge you?”

“Please just let me finish, it’s already hard enough having to tell you.” Again, you avoided his eyes, fearful of seeing any sort of judgment in them.

“Look, I know we’ve been friends for a while now… and I’ve been so happy with that, I really have. It’s just that… one day we won’t have each other.”

As much as you tried not looking at him, your eyes landed on his. They looked solemn. You could already tell that he knew where the conversation was going.

“Eventually, we’ll have our own partners-” your voice was beginning to shake, becoming harder to hide your sadness.

“yn stop.” But before Wonwoo could get another word in, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His hands had snaked their way up to your neck, gently cradling your face. His touch was gentle, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

You were stunned, to say the least. Even as he pulled away, you couldn’t find any words to say. It was as if he had taken your breath away.

“I tried taking it slow, I really did, but I can’t continue seeing you like this. I like you yn, I really do. I was too scared of ruining our friendship so I didn't say anything, but I hate to see you think that no one wants you… because I do.”

You didn’t even notice you had started crying, only feeling Wonwoo's thumbs wipe your tears away.

He continued, “I’m not even sure if you feel the same way about me, but I really need you to know that you are not unloveable.”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Especially now that you knew that Wonwoo liked you back, you felt elated.

Wonwoo on the other hand… felt terrified. While he didn’t regret confessing his feelings towards you, he was certainly scared. He didn’t even know if you reciprocated those same feelings. It also didn’t help that you were being quiet. The silence that was once comfortable to him was beginning to feel suffocating. But before his thoughts could escalate any further, your voice was able to snap him out of his daze.

“Do you really mean it?” You knew it was stupid to ask, considering Wonwoo was not the type to stay stuff like this without meaning it. But the little voice in your head didn’t buy it one bit, so you needed the reassurance to silence those thoughts.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo answered, “Of course.”

“Okay, well… I do too. Like you, that is…” Your face was beginning to burn up. This was so embarrassing. God, you felt like a teenager again, except this time you actually did get your happy ending.

But like the two idiots you were… you didn’t move a single inch. Were you supposed to hug? High-five? Kiss again? This has never happened to you before, either you rejected the guy or pretended that it never happened. What were you supposed to do?

“So….” Wonwoo’s voice was quiet and awkward.

To be fair, neither of you were expecting to confess to each other tonight. Obviously, now that you both know that you have mutual feelings for each other… the next step would be dating right? Or is that too soon? You have been friends for a while now so it wouldn't be that unreasonable... right?

Wonwoo grabbed a hold of your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. You could see the tips of his ears turn a bright pink before he cleared his throat.

“Do you… want to be my-” Wonwoo was visibly cringing as he said it out loud. It was a no brainer, but he still wanted to ask you, to make it official.

“-Yes. I would be an idiot to say no.”

[ᝰ.ᐟ] hey guys! i know i haven’t been active lately and i’m really sorry about that. school has been so overwhelming for me so i struggled finding the time to write, which brings us to this! i wrote this i think… last year? not too sure but i tried editing it a little but there might be some errors here and there so please excuse that 🥹 also i am still working on part three for Back for More so stay tuned for that!

[covenofagatha]

Saw you're taking requests and decided to toss one your way!

Agatha x reader, reader has had a really tough day and Agatha helps put her into subspace to relax. Some soft!dom Agatha with a splash of praise, degradation, mommy and maybe some size kink? And of course some fluffy aftercare after reader has been thoroughly fucked out of her mind❤

Hope you enjoy! (Disclaimer: I've never written subspace before so hopefully I did it justice, along with everything else you wanted)

Bad day

When Agatha comes home to find that you had a bad day, she takes it upon herself to make you feel better

Word count: 2600

Warnings: praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, size kink, mommy kink, oral, strap-on, aftercare, smut, and fluff (I may have missed one)

You’re on your last nerve when you get to your afternoon class on Wednesday. 

Your car didn’t start in the morning so your girlfriend, Agatha, had to drop you off at work, which you’d never complain about, except she had still been asleep when this happened so you were almost late because she had to get ready. 

And then work was awful. You had a shift at the popular retail store in town and it seemed like every customer who came in was on a mission to personally ruin your day. 

From dissatisfaction with the prices to vomit all over the restroom floor, it seemed like nothing could go right. 

Agatha had been at work herself so you had to call one of your college friends to give you a ride after. 

And now you had to sit in a class on Personality Theory for the next three hours and listen to your professor drone off on tangents. You would be getting your tests back from last week though, and you were hoping you had done well. 

“Alright, before we get started, I’ll go ahead and pass out your exams. Once I call your name, you can come up and look at it,” your professor says and you anxiously tap your fingers on the desk while you wait for your turn. 

Finally, he says your name. Butterflies in your stomach, you walk to the front to look and it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. 

There must be something wrong, you don’t understand how you missed this many. 

Red ink stains the page and you have to clench your jaw together to keep your composure. Tears prick at your eyes as you hand the exam back to your professor and head back to your seat, burning with shame. 

It seems like it’s just one thing after another. 

You barely pay attention for the rest of class, head spinning with thoughts of how bad you did, how everything sucks, how you just want to go home. 

Agatha texts you a few times during the three hour time span, just checking in on you, but you don’t even respond. She always says that you get too wrapped up in your own brain and you know she’s right. You do let her know that you won’t need a ride home, not sure you could take the older woman’s softness right now. 

You just want to take a shower and lie in bed. 

Class finally ends and you order an Uber instead of asking a friend to take you home. When you get in these moods, you don’t want to talk to anyone. 

You grunt in response to the driver’s question of asking how you are and then the rest of the ride is spent in silence. It’s not often you get in such a foul mood, but when it does, it’s tough. 

When you make it through the front door of Agatha’s home, you immediately collapse on the couch and breathe in the blanket that still has her scent. She’ll be home soon and now you just want her to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be alright. 

You hear keys jingle in the front door maybe ten minutes later and you sit up on the couch expectantly, heartbeat picking up. You’ve been with Agatha for six months now and she still managed to have the same effect on you that she had at the beginning. 

“Hey, baby,” she calls out, seeing the lights on, and she makes her way to the living room to find you swaddled in her favorite blanket on the couch. She frowns, instantly able to tell something is wrong. Usually you get up to give her a kiss. “You okay?” 

And then it’s like a dam breaks. You start sobbing and telling her all the things that have gone wrong that day and she instantly sits down next to you, engulfing you into a hug and whispering that everything will be okay. 

She lets you cry for a bit, hand stroking your hair, making soothing sounds. Eventually, you calm down enough to take slow, shaky breaths. 

“I’m sorry, doll. Sounds like you had a rough day,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You nod in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You shrug while you think about it. And then you lean in and chastely kiss her lips. 

When you pull back, she’s smirking. 

“You want mommy to help you?” She coos and instantly, a fire awakens in your belly at the use of your favorite name for her. Your head bobs up and down eagerly but she tuts and grabs your jaw to hold it still. “Words, baby.” 

“Yes please, mommy,” you whisper. No one can make you feel as good as Agatha can. 

“Good girl,” Agatha hums and the fire gets worse. “What do you want?” 

You squirm on the couch, just looking at her, begging with wide eyes. 

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” You whine and grab her hand and bring it down to your shorts. “Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please,” you force out again. “Touch me, mommy.” 

Her grin is wicked as she lays you back down on the couch, positioning herself so she’s holding her weight above you. Your noses are almost close enough to touch. 

“Does my little baby want me to reward her like the perfect little angel that she is?” Agatha purrs and you gasp, feeling your head start to get fuzzy. She plays with the waistband of your shorts and your hips buck up involuntarily. You make a sort of strangled noise from your throat – all you can do, really – and she shushes you. “Just relax, doll. Let mommy take care of you.” You whimper as she kisses your nose and moves down your body to undress you. 

You feel like you’re on a different planet when Agatha pats your waist so you can lift yourself up for her to take your shorts and underwear off. 

“There we go, so good for me,” she says, leaving kisses against your thighs. You moan, senses heightened. You babble something incoherently and you can hear her chuckling at you. “Baby, you’re absolutely dripping for me.” 

Her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting wetness, and sounds are pulled out of your mouth by her administration. 

“Does that feel good, hon?” 

Your head lulls back on the couch and you try to say something to affirm her question. 

“Aw, is my little baby in subspace right now?” Something in the back of your mind tells you that you must be, but you’re too blissed out to answer. 

And then her tongue is on your pussy and you couldn’t say a word even if you tried. If you didn’t already feel like you were floating then, you sure do now. Your back arches off the couch as she sucks on your clit but her hands come up to hold you down. 

“Be a good girl for me and let mommy do all the work.” 

Your moans get louder as she keeps eating you out and you’ve never felt this good before. It’s like all your worries and stress and frustration that built up over the day are melting away to leave you in a puddle of pleasure. 

“Mommy, so close,” you slur, hands digging into the couch beneath you. Her teeth scrape against your clit and she moans into you and it sends you into an explosive orgasm. 

You’re not sure you’ve ever cum that hard. 

She licks you through it and you have to pull her away after a while because you become sensitive. 

Agatha comes up to kiss you, long and hard, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. 

“Do you want to try something new tonight, baby?” She asks once she pulls away and you nod eagerly before even asking what it is. You trust her more than anyone. “I’ll be right back.” She gives you one last parting kiss and quickly runs upstairs. 

She’s up there for a few minutes while you lay on the couch, still in a trance-like haze. 

And then she comes back down and your mouth falls open. 

Attached to her hips is the biggest strap-on you’ve ever seen. She must have just bought it. You had gotten to where you could take the toys you had pretty easily, but you are certain that this will stretch you out so much more than them. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, eyes widening as she comes back over to the couch. You can see that she’s holding lube in one hand. 

“Mommy wants to see if your tiny, little pussy can fit her big cock,” she says and a thrill runs through you despite yourself. “Might have to work you up to it.” 

Your legs part without thinking and she laughs. 

“So desperate for me, aren’t you? My perfect, little slut.” You gasp at the words, feeling yourself get even more wet. 

While you loved the praise from her, degradation almost turned you on more. 

“You have to relax, baby,” she reminds you, moving to kneel on the couch between your legs and pushing them even more open. She rubs your clit and slides two fingers in easily. You grind up on her fingers, trying to pull them in more. “Look at how well you take my fingers. So good for mommy. You can’t get enough of them, can you?” 

You shake your head and groan when she curls them just right. 

“Such a good whore for mommy,” she sighs. “Can you take another?” 

“Please,” you gasp out, walls clenching around the two already inside you. She pulls them and you feel empty, but that feeling is quickly gone when she pushes three in you. The stretch feels so good and your hips meet her every thrust, the pleasure in you already growing. 

And then it’s gone. Your head flies up to look at her wrapping the hand wet with you around her strap and coating it. And then she opens the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount in her other hand to also stroke the toy with. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Go slow, mommy,” you tell her, even though you know that she will. “You’re so big.” 

“You’re going to look so pretty, sweetheart, stretched around my big cock,” she says and positions the tip at your entrance. “Like a little, perfect slut. 

The first push steals all the air from your lungs. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You’ve never been so full in your life and you barely have any of it inside you. Agatha doesn’t move, just rubs small circles on your thighs and waits for you to tell her you’re okay. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust. It’s definitely easier in the headspace that you’re in right now. 

“Okay,” you say and Agatha obeys, slowly moving forward inside you. She stops when your breathing gets strangled and doesn’t move again until you’re back to normal. 

“God, your little pussy looks so good taking my big cock so well,” she grunts once she finally bottoms out. If your mind was clearer, you’d tease her about the size kink she so clearly has. “How are you doing, baby? Can I move?” 

“Please, mommy,” you beg, still feeling euphoric. Every drag of her cock against your walls now feels like heaven. She smirks and starts to move.

She starts slow at first, just short, slow strokes to make sure that you’re still comfortable, and then she starts to really fuck you. 

The pace Agatha sets is rough and bruising and you can hear the wet, squelching sounds that the toy makes as it pushes back inside you every thrust, a mix of your wetness and lube. 

“Mommy,” is all you can pant as she fucks into you over and over again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart, you’re taking my cock so well, such a perfect slut for mommy,” Agatha mutters, never slowing down once. If you were already in subspace before, you’re not sure you have a word for what state you’re in right now. There are not even semblances of thoughts in your head, there is only Agatha and the pleasure she is giving you. You can’t even remember what you were in such a bad mood about earlier. 

She reaches down to rub your clit again and you hear someone moan obscenely loudly. 

You think it might have been you. 

All you know is that you’re getting so close again you can taste it. She seems like she can tell because she somehow speeds up, which you didn’t think was possible. Little gasps are forced out of your mouth with every push and your walls are tightening so much around her that it makes it hard for her to thrust. 

“So good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Agatha chants, a hand reaching up to play with your nipple under your shirt. “So perfect, such a perfect slut, my perfect good girl. Cum for mommy, cum all over mommy’s big cock.” 

She angles her hips just right and rubs your clit hard and you spasm, back bowing off the couch. You’ve never felt pleasure this extreme; it feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience. All the tension in your body is gone and you pant heavily as Agatha pulls out of you. 

“You okay, baby?” She asks and you wheeze a laugh. 

“M’okay,” you say happily, a slow smile spreading onto your face. You can feel your head clearing with the loss of her touch. 

“Let me get a washcloth, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.” She gives you a kiss on your head and she’s back in what seems like seconds with a warm towel. You wince at the feeling of it between her legs but it helps. “Do you want to move to bed?” 

You nod, but you’re not actually sure if you can stand up based on the jelly feeling in your legs. Agatha seems to understand this without you saying anything and she scoops you off the couch bridal style and carries you up the stairs. 

You giggle and burrow your head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in and feeling her against you. 

“You did so good, baby,” she whispers. 

“Thank you, Agatha. I really needed that.” 

She pauses for a second in the hallway to peck your lips. “I know you did. I’m happy to help, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” 

Once in the bedroom, Agatha helps you into some comfy pajamas and makes you take sips of water from the bottle on her nightstand. You lay down and she pulls the covers over you both, pulling you close to her so she can wrap an arm around you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby, you know that?” She murmurs. “I love you so much.” She kisses you softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. 

“I love you too,” you mumble in-between kisses. No one has ever made you feel more loved than Agatha. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she continues and you blush. “I know you had a hard day today, but tomorrow will be better. You’re so strong. You’re my perfect girl. I love you.” 

And she keeps whispering the sweetest things into your ear, and you drift off to sleep in her arms, feeling like nothing was ever wrong. 

[timefadesaway]

like imagine you see a band play at a village fête and you introduce yourself to them bc you think they're cool and you want to be in a band and you impress their de facto leader with being great at guitar so he lets you in the band and you eventually start writing together and become good friends because you bond over the death of each of your mothers and jerk off together and he has this other friend who he's really close with and you just fucking hate him he just gets on your nerves until he dies tragically and your friend receives £100 for his birthday so he takes you to paris and you spend the week taking pictures of each other in matching silly hats and sleeping in the same bed and you keep writing together you keep writing together and you both decide to credit all the songs either of you write to both of you as a shared name and your career begins to take off and you keep writing together and he writes you a valentines day card but takes it back to write a love song on it and you keep writing together and boy your career has really taken off and you're in movies and you're everywhere and you're put on display for the entire world at each others sides and you keep writing together and your cat has kittens and you name them pyramus and thisbe and you give him pyramus the part you played when you performed the rude mechanicals together and you keep writing together and he tries acid and likes it and you try it too and you try it for the first time with him because you don't want him to be alone on a trip and you look into his eyes and you dissolve into him and he gets more into drugs and you like drugs but not as much not like him and you meet a girl shes a photographer and you like her like really like her and you click so much it's noticeable and when your friend sees this he does acid and says he's god and calls up this artist and cheats on his wife with her and he clicks with her too just like that and you go away together with the rest of the band and everything changes and it sucks so you leave and you're writing together less now you write on your own and so does he and boy this girl is really something so you marry her you marry your photographer quietly and out of the public eye and a week later he marries his artist and you still write together a little but it's mostly separate now and you want different things and he plays you a tape of him and his wife having sex and you fall out and you try hard to keep the band together but it's ending and eventually he says quietly that he's leaving the band so you put out in the press that you're leaving first and you sue him and he sues you and moves across an ocean and you write you write alone this time and you write about him and it's mean and he writes about you and it's meaner and you write about other things too but you still write about him and years pass years pass and you run into him and jam and it's like old times it's like nothing happened it's magic and you invite him to write with you and come with you to new orleans and he agrees and he cancels and you dont see him for a long time until you visit his home and spend some time together and as you leave he says think of me every now and then old friend and you go and it's the last time you see him you call him every so often and you call him and talk about making bread and then he's dead and you never got to fix any of it even though you know eventually you would have but you can't now and you keep writing and his demo tapes are sent to you and you keep hold of them and you keep writing and you keep the tapes and eventually you put them to use and you record them and you wait decades to finish your last song with him but you do it and it's called now and then like the last thing he ever said to you in person. and you play bass

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Harsh Reality

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: minor angst, being cheated on (not by bucky), fluff

Summary: You come home to surprise your boyfriend only to end up catching him with another woman in bed. Now, you have to live somewhere else. You try to move on with your new roommates but it proves to be difficult when you were never really good at the dating part of your relationships.

Square Filled: safe house (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

One in a Million Series

Author’s Note: a while back, i announced i wanted to make a series based on the show New Girl, and i didn't want to wait around to write it. i won't be doing every episode in the seasons, and i won't be doing it word for word like i do for my rewrite. enjoy!

x

Your plane lands earlier than expected and the first thing you want to do is surprise your boyfriend, Jack. You left to go to a teacher’s conference in New York and have been gone for an entire week. That’s not much but it is when you consider you and Jack haven’t been apart for more than a couple of days out of the six years you’ve been with him.

You left your car with him since he didn’t have one so you took a taxi back to your apartment. You’re bouncing with giddiness and slight anxiety because you’re doing something you’ve never done before.

For those who know you, you’re not very good with the whole sexy seducing thing. Jack makes it easy for you. He takes care of everything and that includes you. Still, doing something out of your comfort zone is nerve-racking as it is exciting. Your best friend, Natasha, is on the phone while you’re in the back of the taxi wearing nothing but a brown trench coat.

“Why am I so nervous? This is a good thing, right? I mean, this is for Jack.”

“You’re not used to doing something like this but trust me, he’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to walk in and drop my coat on the ground. He says he had this fantasy that I'm a stripper with a heart of gold, and he's helping me put myself through college.”

“He didn't say the college part, did he?”

“Um, no, I wanted to create a three-dimensional sex character.”

“Really? What's your stripper name?”

You look at the driver who briefly looks at you. “Rebecca Johnson?”

“Your stripper name is Rebecca Johnson?” Natasha asks.

You can practically hear her bitch face.

“Boobies Johnson,” you quickly correct. “Two-boobs Johnson.”

“Look at you, in the back of a cab, totally naked. I am so proud of you.”

The driver pulls up to the house that you share with Jack. “I gotta go. I’m here.”

“Good luck, Two-boobs Johnson,” she chuckles.

You pay the taxi driver as you get out and walk inside your home. It’s quiet so maybe Jack is still sleeping. He’s known for sleeping in late. He doesn’t have a job because he got laid off two months ago, but he’s been doing odd jobs to keep the money coming in. That plus your teacher’s salary is enough to get by. You walk to the closed bedroom door and open it with a smile, however, that smile is lost when you come face-to-face with Jack.

He’s not sleeping. No, he’s fucking another woman. Both of them look at you with wide eyes, and Jack pushes his mistress off him as if she means nothing to him.

“Y/N! You’re home early.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I gotta go,” you whisper.

You quickly turn and run out of the house, forgoing the fact that you’re practically naked. Jack calls after you but you don’t stick around to hear what kind of lame excuse he has for you. The taxi is long gone and you don’t have the heart to call for another one, probably because your hands are shaking so much. How can he do this to you? You’ve been together for six long years.

You thought he was the one.

Natasha lives on the other side of town but you make it there sooner than you thought you would for someone who was running. She has a nice apartment overlooking the city. It was out of her price range but because she is so good with selling herself, she talked the landlord down to a price she was able to afford. She’s one of the best real estate agents this city has ever seen, so the landlord didn’t have a problem with lowering the price for her.

You knock twice on her door and she opens it with a frown.

“What happened?”

“He cheated on me,” you whisper. “I caught him with a woman in his bed.”

“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. Come in.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her place. “I’ve never liked him.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Listen to me. I know how you are. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“Why did he do that? Am I not attractive enough? Sexy enough? Is it my singing?”

“No, it’s not your singing,” she sighs. “Men are pigs and Jack’s true colors came through. This is all on him.”

“I wondered why he wasn’t taking my calls. I just figured he was working.”

Natasha sighs and rubs your back in comfort.

“You don’t need him, Y/N. Listen, you can stay with me until you find something else, okay?”

“No, I don’t want to impose.”

“I’m serious. It’s okay. I have the spare bedroom you can use.”

Despite her offer, you don’t want to worm your way into her life. She’s active on dating sites which means she brings home guys left and right. She lives alone and you remember what it was like to have someone invade your space like this. It’s why that night, you go online to see if there is anyone who is looking for roommates.

You shouldn’t go on sites like Craiglist when it comes to living somewhere, but you don’t make a lot of money as a teacher. If you were to go through an agency or even on Facebook, you wouldn’t find something cheap. You scroll through the obvious trolls until you get to one ad for an apartment downtown.

Four bedrooms. Open floor plan. It’s a loft of sorts. There are three women there looking for a fourth, and you think this is what you need to make a new start. You’re afraid if you slow down, you’ll be forced to think about your ruined relationship with Jack. You’ve never been cheated on so the betrayal hurts that much more. You gave him six years of your life and now…

What are you going to do?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you respond to the ad that you’re interested and go to bed.

Tomorrow morning, you wake up to seven missed phone calls from Jack and over twenty messages, but you ignore them and get ready. Natasha is eating breakfast in the kitchen already dressed to show a house.

“Have a house to sell?”

“Yeah. I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“I might have found an apartment.”

“What?”

“I saw an ad on Craigslist. I know it’s not ideal, but I’m going over to them right now. It’s three women looking for a fourth roommate for their loft.” You see the look on Natasha’s face and sigh. “I need something to do Nat, otherwise all I’ll do is cry.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” you smile.

You get dressed and head over to the apartment downtown. You knock on their door and freeze when a man with a metal arm opens the door. Two men, one blonde and one muscular, stand behind him, and you look confused when you don’t see any women.

“Are you Y/N?” the man at the door asks.

“Yeah. I’m here for the apartment listing if you’ll still have me.”

“Nonsense. Come in,” the blonde one smiles.

You walk in and look at the loft, already liking what you see. You don’t care that you assumed it was women and they’re men, you just need a new place to live. As much as you love Natasha, that’s her space and you don’t want to intrude. Plus, you don’t want to feel like a charity.

“My name is Y/N, but you already know that from the ad,” you say nervously.

“I’m Steve and this is Thor and that is Bucky.”

“Cool metal arm you have. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Thanks,” he mutters.

When you get nervous, you get chatty, and these three men make you hella nervous. It’s not that they’re intimidating or mean, but you’ve never lived with three guys at once. The only man you’ve ever lived with was Jack, and even sometimes that was too much. So, you start by telling them more than what they want to know.

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like, ‘Oh my God, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark.’ and you're like, ‘What is your problem? Call the police.’ and she's like ‘Okay’ but it's too late because she's already getting murdered? Well, my story's kind of like that.” You tell them everything from Jack cheating on you to not wanting to live with your best friend and invading her privacy. “So, that happened. That's why I need a new apartment. I'm sorry, what was the question again?”

“Do you have any pets?” Bucky asks.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckle and stand up. “This place is beautiful. It gets so much light. Jack hated light. It's hard to say his name.”

“It's okay. Bucky knows. He got dumped,” Steve says.

“Dude,” Bcuky hisses.

The place doesn’t look fancy but it’s new and it can be the start of a new chapter if they let you.

“You know what, I want to live here,” you grin.

“Actually, I still have some questions,” Bucky says. “No offense, but we barely know ya.”

“Yeah, okay. Full disclosure, I'm kind of emotional right now because of the breakup so I'll probably be watching Dirty Dancing at least six or seven times... a day.” Thor shakes his head but doesn’t say anything to that. “Um, I'm a teacher so I bring home a lot of popsicle sticks and arts and crafts. Also, I like to sing to myself… a lot.” You start to sing. “A lot.” You sigh. “I don’t want to live with my friend. I hate feeling like a charity case even though she doesn't mean to treat me that way.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to talk in private,” Steve says.

All three men go into the bathroom while you take the opportunity to look around.

“I think it’d be good to have a woman in here,” Steve says. “It’s good to have a woman’s touch in here.”

“No, all she’s going to do is disrupt our vibe,” Thor argues.

“Bucky? What do you think?”

“Well, I’ve lived with a woman before so I know there are pros and real cons. For one, they smell good but their girly shit will start to be everywhere. Um, they’re good at folding.”

“Okay, we’re not going to come to a conclusion but I’ll take Bucky’s indecisive for a yes. She’s in!”

“Yay, I’m in!” you say from outside the door. Steve chuckles and opens the bathroom door, and you smile at all three men. “You won’t regret this.”

Natasha was weary about you moving into a place with three strange men but you need this. It didn’t take long for you to move in since you didn’t take much from your old place, so the reality of your situation comes crashing down around you the second you get a bit of breathing room. Dirty Dancing plays on the TV for the third time, and you’re lying on the couch surrounded by used tissues and a few of your boxes. Natasha must have called your mom because she immediately called you, worried about living with three strange men.

“I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Baby, you and Jack broke up. Of course, I’m going to worry about you. You’re not watching Dirty Dancing, are you?”

“No, I’m not watching Dirty Dancing,” you mutter.

“Did you make sure those men aren’t murderers? You know how badly I stress Stranger Danger. You’re my baby, Y/N.”

Just then, Bucky walks into the room.

“Hey, are you gonna murder me 'cause you're a stranger I met on the internet?”

“Yes, I am,” he says without looking at you.

“He says no,” you say to your mom. Thor and Steve walk in, having just come from the gym. “I gotta go, mom. I love you.”

“So, the biggest party of the year is on Saturday. I'm trying to get us in but you may need to call Sharon,” Steve says to Bucky.

“I’m not calling Sharon.”

“Hear me out, Buck.”

Before Bucky can say anything, you sob as another wave of depression hits you. All three men look at you and huddle around each other, not sure how to handle this. They haven’t lived with a woman in years, and Bucky slaps his hand on Steve’s chest.

“You did this. You wanted her in. You fix it.”

“Okay, I got it.” Steve walks over to you and sits on the edge of the couch. “Hey, Y/N. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffle.

“Why don’t we turn off the movie, okay?” Steve takes the remote from you and turns off the movie. “Come on, sit up.” You do and he smiles kindly at you. “See? Doesn’t that feel a bit better?”

“Not really.”

“Look, I was cheated on before. It wasn’t fun. In fact, it felt a bit shitty. I don’t know you that well but I know you didn’t deserve it. Look, there’s this party on Saturday, and you need to get your mind off your ex. It’ll be fun. You’ll go out, meet some people, have a few drinks, and forget all about him. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Now, why don’t you get dressed? Bucky works at a bar. We’ll go out for a few drinks and maybe get you a rebound.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You get off the couch and trudge to the bathroom to shower.

“This is all hinging on actually getting into the party,” Thor says.

“Buck, come on. You don’t even have to see her. Just call her and ask her to get us on the list.” 

Bucky walks into the bathroom just to get away from Steve but the latter follows him in.

“There’s someone in here,” you say when you hear them entering the bathroom.

“We're leaving in ten minutes, did you shave your legs?” Steve asks.

“I will now.”

“Front and backs?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Steve looks at Bucky. “Just call Sharon. You call her all the time when you're drunk.”

“No, I don’t. Shut up.”

You shave your legs and finish with the rest of your shower. Luckily, the boys have taken their conversation outside of the bathroom. You wonder what the deal is with Bucky and Sharon. How did things end? Based on his refusal to call her, you assume it ended badly. Will you be like this with Jack?

Like Steve said, you all leave ten minutes later to the bar Bucky works at. Bars aren’t usually your scene but you really want this to be a fresh start. You haven’t flirted with or been on a date with someone in six years. Everything was reserved for Jack. You’re not even sure if you have it in you to find a rebound. If you can’t be sexy well, how can you expect to capture a stranger’s attention?

All it takes is one bad experience to ruin potential future ones. Bucky, Steve, and Thor watch you try to flirt with men but each one fails. You’re either too weird, too loud, sing too much, or too awkward. After about six tries, you sit at the bar with a defeated look. Bucky walks over to you and slides you a pink wine, your poison of choice.

“Well, I guess I can't hide my crazy,” you sigh.

“I don't think you're trying that hard.”

“I've never been great at this stuff, so…” You look up and muster a smile. “Looks at us, a couple of losers. We both got dumped, jeesh.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “It was six months ago.”

“Do you know why she dumped you? I mean she must've hurt you pretty bad.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighs.

“Aren’t you always wondering, like, what it was? Like, was there something you could have done differently?” He shales his head wordlessly. “Do you know what happens to people who keep it all inside? They get old and they get sad and they get weird and then you're the old man yelling at the kids who are running across your yard and you're telling them, 'Don't run across my yard. My life's full of regret'. You can't just pretend like it didn't happen.”

“Or I could pretend to be more like you, Y/N, and live on a sparkly rainbow and drive a unicorn around and just sing all the time.”

“Yeah, I think you should sing all the time,” you giggle.

“No, I was being mean, I'm not gonna do that, Y/N.”

“Why not? It’s fun!”

“Because I have a dick, Y/N.”

“I’ll get you to sing one of these days,” you chuckle.

One of Steve’s friends comes up to the bar and smiles flirtatiously at you, and Bucky backs up to give you some space. He watches you smile at the man, and he looks down in thought. If you can try and move on, he can, too. He takes out his phone and dials Sharon’s number before walking away to take the call.

“So, I was going to go to the party this Saturday, but I’d rather take you out if you’re interested,” he says.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile.

“Great. Maybe we can go to dinner first.”

“Sure. Let me put my number in your phone.” The man hands over his phone, you put your number in, and you call yourself so you have his number. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he smirks and winks. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smile.

Looks like you scored a date and you weren't weird at all. The high of getting a date wears off an hour before you have to leave for it. You’re stuck in your room, wondering what to wear. What would be sexy enough? Should you be sexy? Cute? Casual?

God, what am I doing?

Natasha comes over to help as soon as you text her, and all three of your roommates are shocked into silence, more so Steve than the others. She’s beautiful and has guys hanging off her arm. She’s well known, her picture is on billboards across the city. She’s not shy about her appearance, and this is one of those times. Thor and Bucky look at each other when they notice Steve staring with a smile on his face.

“Natasha. Do you go by Nat?”

“Only to my friends.”

“Cool,” he nods. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N, do you need my help?” she calls out.

There is a thump followed by a yelp. “I’m okay.” She gets up and walks to your bedroom to see you lying on the ground like a starfish. “I tripped on my heels.”

“Okay, sit up.”

You sigh and do as you’re told. “What am I doing? I can't go on a date. What if it's horrible? What if I have nothing to talk about?”

“Then you go to the bathroom, you call me, and you tell me all about it.”

“Maybe I just shouldn't go.”

“Babe, you got hurt. That doesn't mean you stop trying. Okay?”

She has a point. Some might think it’s quick how fast you’re trying to move on, but you can’t slow down. If you do, you fear that you’ll never stop crying. With Natasha’s help, you dress in a short black dress that’s classy but still covers everything. You two walk out, and all three men look at you in surprise. Bucky leans his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together. Thor and Steve smirk at each other, already in tune with what Bucky is thinking.

“Wow. You look amazing,” Bucky says.

“Thank you,” you blush. “I’m kind of nervous but also kind of excited. I’m going to text him and tell him I’m heading over.”

“Wait, have you been texting him?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No.” He smiles slightly. “It’s nice. Have a good night.”

“This is going to be great,” you grin.

Natasha drives you to the restaurant, and you grab a table since Peter isn’t here yet. You’re a bit early, anyway, so you don’t mind the wait.

Sharon is able to get all three men on the list at the party since she knows the owner. Thor, Bucky, and Steve arrive at the party which has a bunch of people outside waiting to get in. They’re in line when Bucky notices a few of Steve’s friends, including Peter. They spot Steve and head over immediately.

Bucky frowns when he doesn’t see you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Oh, dude, she texted me like seven times. Like long ones. I just wanna hook up.”

“So, is she waiting for you to show up or did you call her?”

“Yeah, that's what I did, I called her,” he laughs.

Peter and his friend head inside but Bucky stays where he is. Thor is about to go in when he notices his friends not following him.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t go inside, man.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky shakes his head, turns, and jogs away from the party with Steve. Thor’s been looking forward to this party, but he understands that you need them more. He sighs and runs to catch up with his friends.

After thirty minutes of not showing, you know Peter won’t be here. You’re the only table in the restaurant without food except for the free bread they give out. You sigh sadly and look down at your lap, picking apart the bread. You look up when you hear footsteps head your way. Oh, it’s only a waitress.

“Do you have anything else that is free, but also has bread in it because the good bread I ate and uh, all that's left is a… it's like a… it's kind of like a health bread?”

“I'm sorry. We're gonna have to ask you to give up the table.”

“Um, can I please just stay, just a little bit longer?” you ask in a small voice.

“We’re here!” You look behind her to see Thor, Bucky, and Steve enter the restaurant. “Yup, we’re here, Y/N!”

Seeing them is ten times better than seeing Peter.

“We're here for the date thing,” Steve says.

“You're all here for the date?” the waitress asks, shocked.

“Yeah, we are. We're her boyfriends. We are reversed Mormons. One man just isn't enough for her,” Bucky says.

“Okay,” the waitress sighs and walks away.

Now that she’s gone, you look down in sadness. The reality of being stood up weighs heavily on your shoulders.

“Hey, Y/n, that guy was a jerk. You don’t deserve him.”

“You guys missed your party to come here to see me?” you ask and look into his eyes.

“Yeah, we care about you. We like you.”

“That’s so nice,” you sniffle with a smile.

You’ve only met these guys, but you know that moving in with them is one of the best things you could have done for yourself.

x

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[cloudcountry]

waxing crescent — the realization of love. an oh wow moment.

with leo kurosagi. (for @vivisgoinginsane)

You weren’t naive enough to assume that your curse to die in one year would be the last of your problems in this life, but you didn’t expect the next problem to come so soon.

Leo Kurosagi, a real pain in the ass who just so happened to be utterly obsessed with you, regardless of whether he knew it or not, ended up being that very problem.

How else could he explain away the occasions in which he popped out of nowhere just to bother you, whether you were in Jabberwock helping out with the animals or at a cafe off campus? There was no reason he should be anywhere near you as often as he was with that smug grin stretched across his annoying face.

Every single moment you had to spend with him was like pulling teeth, every time he laughed so cruelly at your misfortune you almost knocked his teeth out. He took pleasure in your anger, always making jabs about how much a brute you were, that no wonder you were so fucking ugly with that scrunched up face of yours, that you’d surely get wrinkles if you kept pouting like that!

Leo Kurosagi was infuriating.

But in his rambling insults about you, you found vulnerability. It was easier to strike back against him when he fumbled for just the slightest second, trying hard to keep his cool. It was so painfully obvious, to you at least, that you’d struck a nerve deep within his heart, and you didn’t stop there.

This is what they call leveling the playing field.

Months pass like this, the two of you going at it time and time again, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say Leo liked the chase. He likes the thrill of finally being bitten back—what a sick bastard he was!

So why were you seeking him out as well? Why were you also finding enjoyment in his company now? Why was Sho rolling his eyes at the two of you and telling you to stop flirting, to find a different place to get cozy because it’s weird to do that in public—

Nothing was different, surely. Everything was still the same as it had always been. After all, Leo was still calling you an idiot, and complaining about how incompetence you were, and—surely he still called you ugly, right? Of course. You must have just missed it.

But his behavior changes. And it changes in such a way that his smiles and sharp laughs leave you reeling, in such a different way than they ever did before.

It changes as he shoves himself between you and Sho sitting on the couch, pushing the two of you farther apart with a slightly strained smile on his face.

It changes as he grabs your hand and yanks you away from Kaito and Luca as your friend hollers at him and the other gazes on at the scene, confused.

It changes as he texts you good morning in such a passive aggressive way it almost makes you laugh.

And it changes.

And it changes.

And the way you see him changes, too.

“You know, Leo, you're not so bad when you’re not projecting your insecurities onto everyone.” you muse out loud, curled up next to him on the couch.

“Shut up. You’re one to talk about projecting.” he shoots back, holding his phone between the two of you so you can watch silly internet videos together.

And when you look up at him and stick your tongue out, he looks radiant.

[freedomfireflies]

Show Me*

Summary: The second part to Teach Me*

Class is in session, and this time, Harry needs a little help exploring his favorite kinks. Like...how to get somebody off underneath a table.

And you're more than happy to lend a helping...hand.

Word Count: 6k

“So…how did she like it?”

Harry laughs as he slips out of his car. “Wow, I think that’s a new record. Waited a whole thirty seconds to ask me.”

“Bite me,” you retort as he makes his way toward where you’re waiting on the sidewalk. “Well?”

He shrugs, hands shoving into his pockets. “Dunno. We never got to it.”

“So, just straight to the fucking, then, huh?” you question. “No foreplay at all? I mean, hey…if that’s what she’s into…great. But, personally, I think the foreplay is the best—”

“All right,” he interjects with a wicked yet amused grin. “That’s not what I meant. She got called into work before we could.”

“Oh.” You offer him a pitiful frown. “Sorry, bud.”

“Bite me,” he mimics as he brushes past you. “S’fine. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage as you fall in-line beside him. “Gives you more time to find your nerve.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, glancing down at the concrete. “Or more time to practice…other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he says again, one brow raising as he looks back over. “You know, like…how to eat ass.”

Finally catching onto his joke, you groan and reach out to shove him away from you, watching as he stumbles with a laugh. “Fucking hilarious.”

“Listen, I was actually looking forward to it,” he continues, hand over his heart as if disappointed. “I bet you really know how to eat some ass.”

“Ha…ha.”

“What? You do, don’t you? Cause of…Eric?”

The familiar but dreaded name sends a shiver down your spine as you recoil away and scrunch your nose in horror. “Ew.”

He looks proud. “Well? Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” you huff before sighing. “…no. But he wasn’t that great of a teacher, anyhow.”

“No fucking kidding,” Harry snorts with a smile. “You’re much better.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he beams, reaching out for the door of the restaurant to swing it open. “After you.”

“As it should be,” you tease, winking to hint at the double entendre, and his eyes roll.

You find your large group of friends already gathered around a table near the back of the room, and quickly make your way over.

For the next few minutes, you all exchange pleasantries, catch-up, and tease Harry about his failed attempt at mating.

He’s a good sport about it, flipping everyone off with a smile before changing the subject. 

Because, despite the jokes, all of you know that Harry could have anybody he wanted. Maybe his experience in the bedroom is lacking but that’s only because it was a personal choice that he made. And everybody knows it. As far as charm and seduction go? Harry Styles is a king.

Perhaps even a God.

…no, that’s giving him too much credit.

You shake your head, clearing the thought away as you listen to your friends gossip about the newest celebrity drama and reality TV scandals.

And you try to care. Really, you do.

But your mind keeps…drifting.

To Eric.

God, you could just kill Harry for re-planting that seed in your subconscious and reminding you of the worst mistake you’ve ever made.

Because there was a time when Eric was everything to you. When you were closer to him than you were to Harry. When you trusted him—completely—with your mind, soul, and body.

And of course, he just had to shit all over the self-growth and progress you’d made.

You feel your phone vibrate from its place on your thigh, and you glance down to see Harry’s name flashing across the screen.

Sneaking a curious sideways peek his way, you swipe up to read his text. 

So…Pete Davidson is Kim Kardashian’s stepfather now? Am I hearing that right?

Confused, your brows pull together as you look over at him.

His explanation is to nod at your friends across the table with a smirk, and you laugh.

I don’t know, you type. I wasn’t listening.

Oh? Why not? This is fascinating stuff.

Idk. Just wasn’t.

Harry’s expression seems to fall as he studies you before his fingers are flying across the screen. You were thinking about Eric, weren’t you?

…nooooooo.

His eyes narrow.

So what if I was?

Bee…you can do better than that. Even in your head.

See, you say that, and yet…here I am.

Because you’re not doing better. You can…you just aren’t.

Yeah? And how exactly would I do better?

You catch the way his lips pull back into a Cheshire-like grin as he begins to type.

Well, you kind of already did do better. With me. The other day.

Swallowing a scoff, you type, That was only because I felt bad for you.

Think you felt a lot of things that day, Bee. But bad wasn’t one of them.

You toss him a playful glare. Are you ever gonna let that go?

Not likely. After all, you did promise me another lesson.

You don’t need another lesson, you just need to stop being so goddamn annoying.

Come on, you can’t deprive me now. Not when I know I have so much to learn.

Google it.

Ouch.

You’ll live.

It’s not living if it’s not with you.

This time, you do groan, and reach over to swat his arm. “Stop,” you hiss. “You really are fucking annoying.”

“Learned from the best,” he retorts, leaning closer to you in an attempt to conceal the conversation. “Learned a lot of things from you, actually.”

“Harry,” you huff again, but you’re smirking. “My god, you don’t really wanna learn how to eat ass do you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what I wanna learn. That’s why I need a teacher. To teach me what I want.”

You know he’s fucking with you. You can see it all over his face and yet, for some reason…your interest is piqued. “Thought that was a one-time deal.”

“It was,” he agrees. “But…the door to knowledge is never closed.”

He follows this up with a devious chuckle to let you know he’s teasing, and you nudge him again. “See? Annoying.”

For a moment, you both put the topic to bed and return to the conversation happening across the table.

But again, your mind wanders.

Wanders all the way back to your bedroom and the image of Harry’s curls wound around your knuckles.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about that afternoon quite a few times since it happened. After all, you’re only human. And Harry had done a rather excellent job. Sure, you’ve had a tad better. But for his first time…it wasn’t half bad.

And you’d waited to feel weird about it after the fact…but you never did. Which was strange. The two of you returned to your normal routine as if it had never happened.

And you were certainly glad for that. So why is it that now, as the opportunity for a relapse is placed so obviously in your lap, are you not repulsed by it?

Why is it that you haven’t immediately shut the idea down? Laughed it off? Why is it that you’re…considering it?

Again?

You almost want to shudder at the very thought, but as you look over to the chair beside you and take in Harry’s relaxed smile as he listens to your friends talk…something seems to shift.

You will admit, since your little…experiment…you’ve begun to equate those kinds of memories and feelings with Harry instead of Eric.

And that’s another thing you wouldn’t dare complain about. You like the idea of being able to associate pleasure with someone that makes you feel safe. Secure instead of unhinged.

And perhaps this is a huge mistake…but suddenly, you can’t seem to see the harm?

He gets to learn how to make a woman feel good and you get to erase Eric from your past permanently.

What could possibly be so wrong with that?

Subtly, you clear your throat as you turn your head to him, calling his attention away as he raises a brow. 

“Okay, so…if I were to agree to another lesson…” you begin hesitantly as his eyes grow wide. “I’d need a little…information.”

He angles his body toward you as well, murmuring, “Yeah? Like what?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t know…what kinds of kinks do you have?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats smugly, nodding his chin at you. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me find out?”

You quickly glance across the table to make sure nobody is listening as you lean in and whisper, “Well…I don’t even know where to start with you. You’re a virgin, it’s hard.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he corrects with a scoff. “I just…haven’t done it a lot since the first time.”

“Mhm,” you snort. “Doesn’t change the fact that if you don’t know what you like, there’s no way I’ll know.”

He studies you for a second, seeming to think. “Well…why don’t you tell me what you like? Maybe I’ll get some ideas.”

You hesitate. What do you like? “Uh…okay. I mean, I like pretty much everything, I guess.”

“Yeah? Like what? Name something.”

Well…shit. “Um…I don’t know. Have you ever heard of…exhibitionism?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought, brows lifting up with intrigue. “I’m 27, I’m not dead.”

“Hilarious.”

“Why? S’that something you’re into?”

You swallow but force a relaxed and nonchalant demeanor. “Kind of, yeah. Fun to play with what’s mine when anybody could see.”

He almost seems impressed, leaning back as he looks at you. Really looks at you. “You don’t fucking say.”

“Okay, don’t make it a whole thing,” you whisper urgently, already swatting at him in warning. “It was just an idea. We can always think of something—”

“Show me.”

You pause. “Show you…what?”

He nods his chin at you. “Show me how you’d play with what’s yours when anybody could see.”

Your expression falls. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nods. “I’m a vessel. Show me. Teach me.”

And maybe it’s the glass of wine offering you an extra ounce of courage, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already done this once before, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Harry…

But whatever it is, you reach out, and smooth your palm along his upper thigh, just to watch his breath catch. “Are you sure?” you ask softly, careful to keep beneath the suspicion of the group across the table. “Because I need to know if you can…handle it.”

You feel him tense, his fingers flexing across the tablecloth as he regards you. “I’ll handle anything you want me to.”

Your hand drifts a little higher. “And you’ll sit here? And be a good student?”

He shoots you a coy smile. “The best.”

A little higher. “And you know your safe word?”

“‘Stop,’” he answers, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “Don’t think I’ll need it, though.”

“You might.”

“Won’t.”

“Maybe.”

“No fucking way.”

You slow to a stop, centimeters away from the rather obvious dip in his pants. “Don’t say that. Just use it. If you need to.”

His expression softens. “I know, Bee. I will. Promise.”

“Good.” So, with that and a deep breath, you take the plunge, ghosting your touch over his covered cock. 

And it’s different this time because it’s you touching him. It’s his body in your hands and this far exceeds your usual high-five.

You aren’t sure what you expected. You kind of already know he’s big from the few times you guys have gone swimming together. And he’s accidently brushed up against you before when scooting past you and worn sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to help him hide an erection (another reason why you’re never watching a Margot Robbie movie with him again). 

But feeling it now…knowing exactly what this man is in possession of…feels forbidden.

You keep your expression stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your awe as you watch the way his lashes flutter.

“Easy,” you warn in a delicate whisper. “Rule number one…make a sound and I stop.”

His teeth grit as he leans back against his seat. “Fine.”

“Good.” You bring your fingers together until you can cup your palm around him, adding just the slightest amount of pressure before glancing back at your friends.

They’re laughing about something, you don’t really know what, but you smile and nod along as if absolutely enthralled.

And as the seconds pass, you feel Harry grow harder in your hand. Needier. He shifts at least three times a minute, clearly struggling to keep from bucking up into your touch.

You’re being as easy on him as you can. A few squeezes, a bit of palming, and some light brushing just to tease him.

He’s gripping onto the edge of the table so tight, you’re surprised it’s not shaking. But he’s restraining himself, as best he can, and you feel oddly…proud.

You maneuver a little closer, head dipping until your lips are close to his ear. To anyone else, it might look like you're merely trying to be heard over the loud music.

But Harry knows better.

"This...is where the fun is," you tell him. "Knowing it would be so easy to have you coming in your pants. Right here, right now. In front of everybody."

You add a bit more pressure and watch the way the veins in his arms begin to strain against his skin. The way the muscles in his jaw constrict and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmur as his fingers begin to scratch down the table, desperate to grab onto something. “Feel what it does to you…to be played with. Just like this…exactly like you wanted.”

He sucks in a quiet gasp for air as his head threatens to drop back, little curls falling across his forehead.

He’s not stopping you. And you know he won’t. He’ll happily let himself go right into his trousers, in front of the whole goddamn resturant. Right here, right now.

But that wasn’t apart of the lesson.

So, just when you can feel his resolve begin to crumble…you stop.

He exhales a long, deep breath, slumping into the chair as if completely drained of all energy, and you almost want to laugh.

“So…what did you learn?” you ask softly as you lean back in.

“That Eric’s a fucking ass,” he replies instantly, shooting you a lazy grin. “And that we’re definitely not kids in a tree house anymore.”

“No kidding,” you agree. “Anything else?”

He mulls this over, eyeing you closely. “That I think I’m more of a…hands-on learner.”

Your brow raises. “What does that mean?”

His answer comes in the form of his touch, hand outstretching for your leg, long fingers brushing across the hem of your dress. “It means…I need to see for myself.”

He pauses down by your knee in order to allow you the time to understand and either accept him or reject him. 

But you simply blink, focus falling from his face down to your lap. “Ah…I suppose that makes sense.”

His lips roll into his mouth. “Mhm…what do you say, Teach?”

Your nose scrunches at the nickname but you smile. “I say practice makes perfect.”

And he wastes no more time in slipping beneath the fabric to travel up your thigh and toward your hips.

Now, you’re the one forced into restraint, a gasp immediately hitching in your throat as he brushes his thumb down the front of your underwear.

It instantly brings you back to the last time, and his touch, while familiar and oddly reassuring, makes your head spin.

You slowly look over at him, taking note of the way he’s so goddamn proud of your reaction, and the way he returns his attention to your friends.

Exactly like you had.

Because this is the lesson after all. The concept of teasing and torture and watching somebody come undone so easily.

The idea of getting caught. 

You could tell from the moment you reached for him that this was something he was into. But even when he was trying not to thrust up into your hand, it was obvious that his interest lied with you and your pleasure.

With the idea of putting you under this sort of duress.

He really is a sadist.

Good to know.

"How's this for practice?" you hear him murmur as you become vaguely aware of the way he's scooted his chair closer to you.

You open your mouth, lips parted and ready to respond, but you can feel the beginning of a whimper threatening its escape.

So you swallow—thickly—and nod your head once.

"Good, then?" he asks, and you have to fight the urge to cross your legs over his hand. "Bee...I need you to speak."

But you can't fucking speak. The pressure of his touch has increased, and it feels so...so fucking good. "It's....yeah. Fine. It's fi—"

Suddenly, you gasp, and thankfully, it's lost beneath the jazz music still loudly playing through the restaurant.

But it's not lost on Harry, and you watch his smug smile expand as his teasing begins to slow. "Uh-uh," he tuts softly. "You know the rules. Make a sound...and I stop."

You exhale the singular word, "Har," and he hums.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"

You have to physically fight the urge to whimper with desperation. Truth be told, he’s hardly even doing anything, but his hands…

You’d fucked up by sneaking a glance down at the tattooed skin disappearing beneath your dress. Because it’s sinful to feel the cold, metal of his rings brush against your warm thighs. Sinful to know he’s pressing his thumb into you just to feel the way you’ve begun to soak the material he’s so effortlessly playing with. 

He…is sinful.

And then suddenly…his touch disappears. Retreats from between your legs as your mouth just about drops open.

And you could cry at the loss of contact because it felt so safe and so exciting. Teasing or not, it was so fucking good, and you hate him for making you go without.

But then…you learn why.

His fingers move to wrap around the edge of your seat, getting a good grip on it…before he yanks.

Your chair is forced closer to his, squeaking against the floor as he begins to smirk victoriously.

“There,” he declares quietly before his hand is returning to your lap. “Much better, don’t you think?”

And it is better because now he’s so much closer, and has so much more room, and you’re so fucking close to just throwing in the towel and hurling yourself at him. Friends be damned.

“Speak, Bee,” he repriminds after a minute of your silence, and instantly, you begin to squirm.

“Har,” you whisper, both begging him for his mercy and for his cruelty.

“What?” he replies evenly. “What do you need, hm?”

You, you think. “Can’t…s’just…”

“Come on,” he tsks. “Think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

But you can’t.

“Please,” you try again, a faint request. 

“Please…what?”

“Har…”

“Uh-uh. Tell me. What?”

Again, you swallow, willing yourself to stay silent. "Har—”

“No.”

“Harry—"

"...Harry?"

This time, it's Charlie calling his name, and immediately, you go deathly still as you turn back toward your friends.

However, Harry is calm as he raises a brow. "Yeah?"

For a moment, the three across from you simply stare, rather curiously before Charlie says, "Oh, I was just asking how Tina is?"

You could almost moan with relief.

“She’s good, yeah,” Harry answers cooly, pointer finger hooking around the edge of the material on your thighs to pull it aside. “Yeah, real good. Been working a lot, so I haven’t seen her much.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Jackie offers with a pout. “Is she nice? Will we like her?”

Harry laughs, head shaking with amusement as if he’s not dragging his thumb down your clit while you swallow a rather desperate whine. “She’s nice. I don’t know if we’ll ever make it that far, though.”

Caleb’s head tilts. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ve hung out, like…twice. S’not really that serious yet.”

And you almost snort, because to you…he seemed pretty serious about her.

But you suppose eating pussy doesn’t exactly require an engagement ring, and maybe he just wants a fuck buddy.

“Well…she still needs to pass the approval test,” Jackie argues with a wink. “And the fact that she strung you along for two months is not doing her any favors.”

“She was just making him work for it,” Charlie teases. “And he needs to be humbled, so I say good for her.”

“Please. Look at him,” she snorts. “He’s too pretty to be this dumb. Okay, he can do better than Tammy—”

“Tina,” Harry corrects before slowly easing the tip of his finger in, and your entire body goes rigid.

“—yeah, whatever. The point is…you can do better,” Jackie finishes proudly, shooting a pointed look toward Charlie.

Harry begins to smirk, slowly stealing a glance at you. “Yeah. Maybe we can all do better.”

Now curious, Caleb nods at you, and you do your best to control your reactions as he says, “Yeah, speaking of which…have you heard from…him?”

You shake your head quickly, mentally damning Harry to hell as he pushes in a bit further just to make it harder for you to reply. “Uh…no. Nope. Not since that night.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jackie tells you. “No, really. I will. I’ll hit him with my car and drag his dead body out to the woods, and watch the bears eat him.”

You breathe out a laugh, but it’s outrageously forced, and Harry can tell. “It’s…it’s fine. He’s…you know, we all move on. I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Harry says with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yeah, you seem fine.”

“Oh, I am,” you murmur through a tight-lipped smile. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Good,” he hums before you can feel him curl upward. “Hope it stays that way.”

Your hands drop to the chair beneath you, and you grip onto the sides for dear life in an attempt to keep from reeling. “Thanks for your…concern.”

“Anytime,” he beams as you feel him slip out. “Just want you to…do and feel the best that you can.”

The wet pad of his finger then returns to your clit as he presses into it just to push it in a teasing circle.

Your eyes just about roll back as you quickly turn your face toward your shoulder and fake a cough. “Fuck…sorry,” you apologize hoarsely as your friends look on.

“Are you all right?” Jackie asks softly. “Sorry, we shouldn’t have brought him up. We can change the subject.”

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to sound casual, despite the fact that you’re teetering on the edge of a wail. “Really, he’s just…a guy. Just some…stupid…sadistic…evil fucking…guy.”

And while the group across the table snorts their agreement, you see that Harry knows that jab was aimed directly at him.

He winks.

“I, uh…I need to go to the bathroom,” you suddenly declare, grabbing onto his wrist to forcefully shove it away before standing to your feet. “Be right back.”

“Feeling all right?” Harry asks innocently as he watches you push your chair in. 

“Just delightful,” you reply before brushing your hands down the front of your dress. “Seriously, keep eating. I won’t be long.”

You leave the table before Harry can make another quippy remark, quickly making your way for the extravagant restroom in the back of the restaurant.

Honestly, you thought you had a little more self-control. You thought it wouldn’t be so easy to get you so on edge, and yet here Harry is, making you clench so hard in your chair, you nearly burst a blood vessel.

You lock the door behind you and make a beeline for the sink. You flip on the cool water and gently trail it down your arms and chest to cool yourself down as you will the ache between your legs to subside.

It’ll be easy to take care of once you get home, but you’re rather impressed with Harry’s commitment to…education.

And something about looking your friends in the eye as he played with your cunt like a toy was oddly invigorating.

Far more invigorating than it ever had been with…Eric.

You’ve no sooner smirked at this thought when your phone begins to buzz from its place on the counter.

Glancing down, you aren’t surprised to see a text from Harry, but it does make you laugh.

How’s it going?

Good. Just getting myself off before I come back, you answer.

Yeah? Texting me while you touch yourself? Hot.

Well, it’s not the first time.

A good minute passes before he responds, and you can easily imagine the way his eyes went wide. 

Seriously?

Seriously. Why, is that weird?

Are you fucking kidding? No, it’s…I mean, it’s hot. Very, very hot.

Your brow raises. Yeah?

Kind of rude you never told me, though. Clearly I would have been of great help.

In my defense, I was a little…busy. It’s already hard enough to type with one hand.

And even if you aren’t exactly touching yourself right now…you aren’t lying about having done it before. Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to text you right in the middle of your alone time and needed an answer ASAP.

So…you’d answered.

Yeah? Do you need an extra hand? he replies next, and you chuckle under your breath as you lean against the sink.

Why, do you know someone?

Funny.

Thank you, I thought so.

Is that a yes, then?

I think I’m managing just fine.

Yeah? So you’re pinching your clit nice and tight for me? 

You feel your breath hitch. This certainly isn’t helping. Obviously.

And you’re clenching around your fingers for me? How many you using? One? Two? Maybe three? Know you like to feel stretched.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you glance off into the bathroom. He’s trying to kill you. 

Can’t really clench around anything when I have to keep answering these texts. Go eat your food and leave me to it.

And what kind of student would I be if I did that?

An obedient one.

And does that sound like me?

“Nope,” you respond aloud, but type, You have been so far.

Think I’d be more obedient if I finished what I started.

I mean…maybe if you knew how.

You wait to watch the bubbles roll across your screen, but when they don’t come, your heart sinks.

And then…there’s a knock.

A rather fervent and determined knock that makes you jump as you look toward the door.

“Bee…let me in.” 

Shit. “I…uh, I’m a little busy.”

“I know,” comes the deep, sultry reply. “So, let me in.”

“Har—”

“Open the goddamn door, Bee, before I break it down.”

Clearing your throat, you put your phone aside and cautiously tiptoe toward the door.

After sliding the lock over, you pull it back just a hair, and peek through the crack. “Uh, hi. Sorry, this bathroom is a little occupied at the moment—”

His large hand comes out to press against the wood as he forces it open and steps inside. “Are you okay?”

You blink at him before scrambling to push it closed and relock it. “Uh…yeah? Why?”

He strides a bit further into the bathroom before turning around to look at you, almost as if suspicious. “Honestly? I kind of thought you came in here to hide from me.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know.” His arms cross over his chest. “I know you didn’t actually come in here to fuck yourself, so I thought…maybe you just felt uncomfortable.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know I didn’t come in here to do that?” you retort.

He smirks. “’Cause you always use both hands. And if you were texting me…you weren’t fucking yourself.”

“And how do you know I use both hands?”

He shrugs. “You told me once.”

Oh…right. “Well…maybe I was multi-tasking.”

“You weren’t,” he rejects immediately. “No, I think you either came in here to hide from me…or because you were upset about what they said. You know, about…him.”

An invisible fist snaps closed around your heart as you stare at the man across from you. The devious intentions and teasing from before are long gone as the man you’ve known for years, your best friend…stands before you.

The concern is evident on his face as you take a step closer. “Har…honestly, I’m fine. I wasn’t hiding from you, and I really don’t care about Eric. I came in here to keep myself from coming all over your fucking hand.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with the temptation to smile, but his gaze remains skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nod, taking another step. “Come on, I think it’s a little late to start questioning me now, don’t you?”

He sucks on his teeth. “Well…I can never tell with you.”

“I feel like I made my enjoyment quite clear.”

“I thought so, too. Until you made me stop.”

Now, only inches away from him, you come to a halt. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly feel like explaining why I moaned to our friends, you know?”

His thumb rubs across the skin of his arm as he peers down at you. “Thought that was the whole point of exhibitionism.”

You shrug, eyes falling across his features. “Yeah…or maybe I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know…like a secret.”

Instantly, he grins, exhaling a laugh at the reminder of the pact you two made when you were younger. “We are good at secrets.”

“The best,” you agree giddily before the laughter dies out, and something seems to shift within his expression.

“Then I think it’s only fair we finish the lesson,” he says quietly, leaning a bit closer as you begin to still. “After all…I still need to show my work.”

Your lashes flutter, the smell of his cologne beginning to overwhelm you. God, why does he always smell so good? “Guess…guess that’s only fair,” you agree faintly, and he seems pleased.

His head dips, nose brushing yours as he works to catch you off guard. “Then tell me what to do, Bee. And I’ll do it.”

It comes out before you can stop it. “Kiss me.”

He’s surprised by this request, going momentarily quiet but you don’t miss the way his focus falls to your lips, as if pondering.

“Kiss me,” you repeat, fingers itching to latch onto the back of his neck. “And this time…do it right.”

He seems impressed as he fights an arrogant smirk. “Right, huh?”

“Yeah.” You straighten up, bringing your mouths a tad closer, but still without contact. “Know you can. Know you know how to be gentle, don’t you?”

And almost as if in retaliation, his hands find your hips, squeezing rather harshly as he begins to back you up toward the wall.

When you collide with it, he grins. “Dunno about that.”

“Try,” you whisper, hands dancing up his chest. “Trust me, you’ll get a lot more points that way. The right kiss can do everything, and I promise…she’ll love it.”

He considers this for a moment, studying you closely before you feel his palm delicately cup your cheek. 

He tilts your head back as he moves in, deliberately slow. “Everything, huh?”

You smile, nodding once. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Everything.”

He kisses you.

Soft, and careful, and sadistically tame. He kisses around your mouth, peppers kisses to your bottom lip, to your cheek, to the line of your jaw. 

He keeps his tongue from you, and you almost huff because after everything, you think you at least deserve a taste.

And finally, once you’re moments away from wilting in his hands, he takes that taste for himself.

Your head spins and your mind goes blank and everything makes sense.

Because kissing him is fun, and it makes you want to laugh, and kiss him forever, and never leave this one spot.

And you’re so enchanted by this revelation that you don’t notice his hand traveling between your bodies to return to its home between your thighs.

But he slips underneath your dress without a moment's delay, fingers returning to their work of pulling your panties aside to finish what he started. And when you gasp into the kiss…he swallows the sound with ease.

“Is that right, hm?” he teases as he slides in. “That good?”

Your lashes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours, and you don’t offer a response because he already knows.

His precision just about kills you. In, out, in, curl, twist, pinch, pull. You can feel the drip down your thighs, can hear the sounds he’s making, can taste his desperation in each kiss he gives you.

And when you suddenly whine and squirm in his hold, he smiles. “There it is, yeah? Right there…s’what you needed, isn’t it?”

It is. It’s exactly what you’d needed, and he strokes the spot with fervor and just a touch of wonder.

It’s cruel and it’s wonderful and it feels so fucking good, and nothing else makes sense to you except him.

Just him and the way you’re about to come undone by his hand for a second time.

You nuzzle your face into his neck, lazily kissing under his ear, and he seems to sigh with contentment as he braces you both against the wall to continue. 

“Come on, Bee…know it’s gotta hurt, doesn’t it?” he coos, but his voice is thick. “Know it hurts, so give it to me, yeah? Just give it to me. Let me make it better.”

And it overwhelms you, consumes you, controls you. His smell, his touch, his words. The past, the present, him. Just him. Only him. Right now. Everything.

The sound that rips from your throat feels foreign to you. It’s loud and desperate and eager, and he presses his lips to yours to be a part of it.

It goes for what feels like hours, but time doesn’t have a place here. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes. You don’t know, you don’t care.

You just…let it.

And you don’t realize the way you’ve slumped into his embrace as he holds you up, keeps you steady.

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you, murmuring words of encouragement with just a hint of teasing. 

You don’t realize he’s refusing to let go.

But once you do, you realize something else, too:

You don’t want him to let go.

"Think we might have a problem," he whispers after a moment, lips following the curve of your shoulder as he offers a few parting kisses.

Your head falls back against the wall and you take a few deep breaths. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"Well...you kind of fucked up," he begins as he moves to the other side of your neck, sucking on the vein just below your ear. "You gave me a taste, showed me what I've been missing."

You can feel yourself smile through the haze as his hands continue to grope at your waist.

"I mean, just knowing..." he continues, nosing under your jaw, "...you've been keeping so much knowledge from me...this whole time."

Your laugh is airy as you reach up to comb through his curls. "Is that right?"

He hums as he nods, the palm of his hand slowly smoothing up your stomach, pushing the hem of your dress along with it. "And now I don't know if I can go without. Feel so fucking insatiable...just thinking about what else you might be hiding from me."

With this, his fingers delicately ghost under the curve of your tit, forcing you to arch into his touch as he smirks.

"And what is it...you want to know?" you manage to reply, voice soft and nearly inaudible.

He pulls back and meets your eye.

"Everything."

Shit.

"Everything?" you murmur, subtly tugging him closer.

"Everything," he repeats. "Anything. All of it. You. Me. Us. Every fucking second, every fucking way."

You know what he's proposing. Know exactly what this means, but you don't know if a friendship would survive.

And you don't know which is more important.

"So...what do you expect me to do?" you ask breathlessly, still squirming beneath his hold.

He smiles. "I expect you...to show me."

"Show you," you repeat, as if in a trance.

"Show me," he whispers, moving back in to lick at your bottom lip. "Teach me. How to be better. How to be right. How take care of you. Wanna give you everything you need."

"Everything," you breathe.

"Everything." His other hand gently comes up to cradle the back of your neck. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. Tell me and I'll give it to you. Promise."

But what do you need?

"Are you sure?" you ask, softly pushing on his chest to garner his attention. "It's not like teaching you to play pool, Har. Exploring kinks is...delicate. Sacred. It's not a game."

"I know," he replies, sobering ever-so-slightly. "That's why it can't be anybody else. It has to be you."

It has to be you.

"Why?" you challenge.

He simply offers you a knowing look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking for a reason to say no. Looking for the strength to know better.

But maybe you don't know better.

Maybe you just know him.

"Teach me," he says again, thumb stroking your jaw as those familiar eyes bleed right through to your heart. "Make me better."

Better.

Everything.

Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else feels right.

Just him.

"Okay," you agree quietly, and his entire face lights up. "For science."

"For science," he repeats, dipping down to press his lips to your cheek in thanks. "But only if you're sure. I'd never want you to agree just because of me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

He leans back. Frowns. He's unconvinced. "I mean it, Bee. I'm not asking just because I can. I’m asking because…it feels like something we both want. But if it's not—"

You kiss him again, stealing the rest of his argument. "I know how to say no to you, Harry. Think you should know that by now."

He smiles against your mouth. "Guess so."

For the next minute or so, you don't speak. He simply takes hold of your face with both hands and paints his gratitude across your tongue.

"So...where do you wanna start?" you ask when he finally allows you a second of reprieve.

"You tell me," he reminds you, and you feel yourself smirk.

"All right," you agree before slipping your fingers through the loops on his pants.

His eyes go wide.

Then, you tug.

"Let's start...with everything."

You bet your ass there’s gonna be a part 3, because now that they’ve opened the door…there’s no closing it 😗 and Harry’s got a long list of new kinks to discover! And I’m strangely excited about it?? This is concerning?? Pray for me???

Next Part:

~ Hurt Me* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Teach Me* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags:

@tiaamberxx @harrystylesfan2686

[sigilslvt]

In Too Deep • Suguru x Reader x Satoru Fic (GOOD ENDING)

☣︎ Summary: You've known Satoru Gojo for 15 years, naturally falling in love with him and ending up in a relationship. What happens when you come home from a 4 month long mission to watch your life fall apart?

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader x Suguru Geto

Tags: fem! reader, cheating, pregnancy, parenthood, marriage, brief attempted self mutilation, ANGST, polyamory, anal (male receiving), oral (female and male receiving), collar play, smut, p in v, rough sex, creampie

WC: 12.2k

Art: yoroz_rozx13 on Twitter!

A/N: The bad ending has another few thousand words and will be posted by the end of the week, I'm gonna let you all sit with this mushiness for a bit!

Bad ending here!

You were supposed to be home from your mission next week, but had asked the elders to cut you loose early, since you’d gotten some surprising news that meant you needed to keep yourself safe. Thankfully they said yes on account of your ever-evolving skills and usefulness, which brought you to this. Home. You’re finally so close to home after 4 months. You’ve dreamed about this moment from the second you left, just aching to be in your bed by Gojo’s side again.

You smile as you lean against the wall of the elevator, headed up to the condo. Every moment that’s led to this playing through your head. Meeting each other as snot nosed 6 year olds, becoming best friends after bonding over your strength, falling in love in high school through all you both had been through, and finally marrying him 6 months ago. The past 15 years have been a dream. Your hand rests below your navel as you smile, eyes closed pulling the memories from your mind and playing them behind your eyelids like a movie.

When the elevator doors open, you walk to your door and shove the key in only for it to push open, making you raise a brow. “Why leave the door open?” You whisper to yourself. Nudging it open slowly, you peer in, hearing music playing from far in the back. “Satoru?” You call out, getting no answer. A pout forms on your face as you lock the door behind you and walk toward your shared bedroom. 

The hall is littered with his clothing, making you smile to yourself thinking about how sloppy he always is when you’re away. Finally reaching the room, you open the door, seeing him sprawled out on the bed... with a woman straddling him, marked from head to toe in love bites.

“What the fuck?” The woman exclaims, turning to you and covering her breasts. Your eyes, however, are stuck on Satoru, whose expression is that of annoyance. 

“Get off and get out.” He rolls his eyes as he talks to the girl, pushing her off. He sighs and walks to the bathroom as the woman runs out of your home, clothes in hand. You blink away the shock, slamming your fist into the bathroom wall as the shower turns on, watching him get in.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!? Gojo, what the fuck were you doing!? We’re married! You cheated!” You scream, hot tears falling down your cheek. Your heart is pounding in your chest, mind replaying the moment you just lived in your head again, disbelief clear on your face.

“God, you say it like I killed a baby or somethin’.” He responds sluggishly.

Your eyes widen: he’s struck a nerve. More importantly— “You’re drunk.” You spit. 

“Ding ding ding!” He shouts from the shower with a giggle that would normally make your heart swell, but instead, you feel only anger. You open the glass door and stare at him in shock. 

“Satoru, why...? I thought you loved me... a-after everything we’ve been through… we’ve known each other over half our lives, h-how could you just throw it all away?” You ask, broken and confused. 

“I do love you, sugar, but you were gone. Y’chose the job. You left me. Y-hic-you left.” He shrugs, but the hurt in his voice is clear. Your mind goes back to the day you left. The argument you had.

He’d been trying to convince you to stay for hours. He’d pulled out all the stops— homemade breakfast, a few fuck sessions, flowers, jewelry, and even begging on his knees. He kept saying he had a bad feeling about you leaving. Like he’d never see you again. You left anyway.

“How many times!?” You shout. He looks like he’s out of it, not understanding your question. “HOW MANY TIMES, SATORU!?” You get louder.

“Too many to count, honestly.” He lazily responds like it’s insignificant. 

And that’s it. Without entertaining anything further, you turn on your heel and run. Far away from the place you once called home.

You feel like you’ve been running for days before you finally reach the front door to a familiar house. You knock hard, crying and clutching your body in your own arms as if they could keep you steady. It only takes a few moments before you get impatient and move to knock again, but the door opens and your fist is caught in the hand of someone you’ve kept yourself from for three years. 

“Well, well, well... long time, no see, angel.” Suguru’s low voice sounds out. He sees the tears in your eyes and frowns before tugging you inside, slamming the door closed behind him. “What did he do?” He asks firmly, pupils already constricting, grip tightening subconsciously. You wince at the pain. “S-Sugu.” You whimper out. 

He lets go, backing away immediately and you rub your wrist before looking back up at him. “He cheated... he cheated and he didn’t even care, he said he’s done it a lot...” you answer his question as you let out another sob. Geto slams his fist against the wall closest to him, breaking it. 

The look on his face is nothing less than pure anger, hatred even. He can’t fathom the fact that the one girl he’s ever loved is broken in pieces in front of him because of the man he once called his best friend. “I’m going to kill that fuckin’ idiot.” He starts for the door. 

“YOU CAN’T!” You shout, grabbing his jacket tightly. 

“Why the hell not!?” He asks, eyes darkening. 

“B-because we’re... I’m having his baby...” You confess, making his eyes widen. “I need you to help me disappear. I-I know it’ll be hard because he can sense our cursed energy, but I’ll work hard to conceal mine a-and I know you can do it, you’ve hid all this time. You’re the only one I trust… please?” You ask of him.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Toru had gone to sleep after his shower, the world around him dizzy. When he wakes the next day, the previous night comes to him in bits and pieces. He remembers you coming home early... having sex... and a shower? He sighs and calls your name out loud. This was why he hated drinking. Black outs were no fun. Piecing together reality and imagination was annoying. The headaches? Worse.

Standing up, he makes his way to the living room, seeing your bag. “So she did come home...” he smiles, reaching for it and starting to unpack for you. A few items later, he finds a long box and opens it, seeing 3 pregnancy tests that say ‘positive’. His eyes widen and he gasps, dropping them. Everything that happened the previous night now coming back to him.

He rushes to his phone and calls you, getting your voicemail immediately. He hangs up and tries seven more times before leaving a voicemail. He wanted to say you didn’t understand, he was too drunk to explain the right way. He wanted to tell you how he felt. “In a world full of people I didn’t choose to be born different from, let alone this much stronger than, I always felt alone… and then you came along. And as long as you were around, I didn’t have to remember that lonely feeling. But then you left… you left and I… please… please just call me.” he murmurs into the phone before hanging up and crying as he grips the tests again. He ruined it all. Over one stupid night. Because of him, you must think your entire relationship has been a lie. 

You listen to the voicemail while waiting for Suguru to finish with a meeting here at the temple, crying silently. The plan is to lay low after this and let Manami run things on the front end so that people would think Geto disappeared. You’ll simply stay with him in his home, disconnected from the temple entirely in case Satoru checks.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Two years have passed since d-day. You still wonder if he looked for you at all or if he’d simply moved on. Standing at your dresser, you sigh, closing the case that held your old wedding ring before turning to see Suguru playing with the babies, making your heart flutter. Smiling widely, you walk to them and kneel down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Your son didn’t like that very much and smacks Suguru with one of his tiny hands, earning a giggle from you. “Mafuyu!” Sugu pouts, drawing his name out like a whiny child.  

Asuka hits Mafuyu back with a stuffed animal and it makes Geto bellow out a genuine laugh. Daddy’s girl. You pick both of your sweet children up and bounce them. “Y’guys wanna go to the park?” You ask, knowing they aren’t quite old enough to answer, but they’ll enjoy it regardless. You look to Suguru and smile softly. “Go ahead and get to your meeting, we’ll be back before you.” You hum before leaving.

The trip there is painless. Not often do you go out in order to avoid Gojo, so you do your best to make the most out of it, stopping to get ice cream for your babies to let their face and hands eat more than their mouths. It’s a wonder none of it flies to the front seat with you.

You take the babies out of their car seats and walk them to the area of the park that says it’s for toddlers only, letting them loose there.

You’re smiling as Mafuyu slides down the slide and into your arms, Asuka following closely behind. Your guard isn’t as high as it once was, as you’d gone so long without an issue. You simply focus on your perfect twins in this moment. “Is it really you...?” A voice sounds out behind you. You turn to see Yaga staring directly at you and the babies and your eyes widen. 

“Please leave us alone...” Your voice comes out shakily, backing up as you fumble around for the twins. 

“I-are you safe?” He asks, but you turn and run, unwilling to allow even that information to get out. The second you get to the car, you strap Mafuyu and Asuka into their car seats and waste no time on putting yours on before you rush home, making sure you aren’t followed.

Back at the park, Yaga texts Satoru to meet there as soon as possible. Gojo, hungover and exhausted, teleports there, tripping and stumbling over his feet when he lands. He hiccups and reaches in his pocket, grabbing a tiny bottle of vodka out and downing it. 

Things have been rough for him the last two years. He had tried to find you for over a year before breaking down, knowing you wouldn’t be found because you didn’t want to be. Knowing you likely had help. It didn’t take long to find out Geto was either protecting you or with you. But he disappeared before Satoru could get any answers, too. So he became a sad shell of who he once was. Yaga sucks his teeth and smacks the back of Satoru’s head, actually making contact with it, as the white-haired drunk had stopped bothering to use his ability all the time.

“I saw her. With twins that had bright white hair like yours... I saw her, Satoru.” Yaga says, his own voice wavering. You meant a lot to him, too, after all. You, Shoko, Geto, and Gojo were all his star pupils and now you and Geto are both gone, Geto having taken a dangerous path with you likely following him. 

Satoru’s eyes widen as his world lights up before him and he tears up, all his hope returning and all his questions flitting through his mind quicker than he can process them. “T-Twins…? Where? Is she safe? Where!? WHERE, Yaga!?” He shouts, distressed and crying as he clutches Yaga’s vest. The dark purple rings around his eyes are even more apparent with how strikingly bright his cerulean orbs have gotten.

Yaga sighs, feeling a fraction of Satoru’s pain. He feels pity for the man. “They looked good. Healthy. But… she ran when I confronted her. Satoru, look... I’m not the best person to get advice from, but... I don’t think you should rush head first into trying to get her back if you find her. The priority should be your kids. Always the kids.” He tells the broken man. 

“Kids. I can’t believe I-I have kids... She had them...” he murmurs to himself. This changes everything for him. No more will he sit around and drown in his misery and booze. He needs to get clean. If not for himself, then for you. For the kids.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Geto had become overprotective since the incident with Yaga. It’s been seven months and he’s still afraid Satoru will show up and try to win you back, but even more afraid that the kids- HIS kids, will be taken, too. He loves them more than his own life, there’s no way he could continue to live without you, Mafuyu, and Asuka. Not after almost three years of pure bliss. Not after he was finally the one you chose. He’d been waiting on this since you guys met during your first year of high school. Back then, he was too late. Gojo’d already had his claws in you. He’d be a fool to make it easy for the man to rip away the woman and kids of his dreams.

“Suguru?” You snap him from his thoughts, bending over and kissing his forehead, right between his brows to smooth the wrinkles there. He smiles up at you and presses a sweet kiss to your stomach in return. 

“Yeah, baby...” he hums. You pout, unsure if he’s okay. Since you’d been seen by Yaga, he’s been a ball of anxiety and a part of you knows it’s because he’s worried that he’ll be left in the dust if Gojo comes back.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere... except for the store because I’m craving pickles and salt and vinegar chips and I’ll die without them.” You joke, earning a chuckle from him. The tension in his shoulders visibly subsides and he rolls his eyes, bringing you closer to him by your thighs.

“I love you.” He murmurs and it sounds like the sweetest song you’ve ever heard. Like he’s a siren just drawing you in with every word.

“I love you. A million times more.” You say and you know it isn’t true. You know that nobody has ever loved anyone more on this Earth as much as Sugu loves you. He knows you know it and lets you go with that.

You quickly make your way out of the house, wanting to be back before the twins wake up from their nap and give their father hell about their mommy being gone. You find yourself in the store, reaching for the pickles, but having a tough time. When you finally get them, you stand up and your stomach knocks down a few jars on the way up, causing them to shatter all over the floor. You’re embarrassed, but someone comes behind you and slightly moves you out of the way of the glass. People are staring and you’re about to bend over to start cleaning it up when the person behind you speaks up. “I’ve got it, ma’am. You can keep shopping, now.” He speaks, facing toward the people staring and not you. You freeze. Satoru.

“T-Thank you.” You whisper, trying your best to be as quiet and sound as unrecognizable as possible. You turn to leave, but before you can walk away, a hand wraps around one of your arms. It’s strong. Familiar. Facing the owner, you see Satoru’s wide piercing blue eyes, the look on his face none other than one of shock and pain.

“I... you...” he murmurs. Before you know it, he’s teleported you out of the store and up to the roof. “Sug-“ He starts to speak, but you interrupt him. 

“Don’t. Call me that. Ever.” You spit. You thought the anger was gone, but seeing him, it all came rushing back. You place a hand on your bulging belly, backing up from him like being near him physically pains you.

He sighs, shaking his head and backing away. “I’m sorry...” He spoke, his voice cracking. 

“Bullshit.” You respond, not missing a beat, pulling a wince from him.

“You don’t understand, I was drunk, what I said wasn’t what I meant. I meant I’d done it with her that night more times than I could count. I had never cheated on you before then, I swear to you” He explains. 

A harsh judgemental scoff flees from your lips. “That’s supposed to make it better!?” 

He shakes his head knowing he started off horribly. “No... but… it had been a long night. You were gone... and I just wanted you. I wanted you back and all I could think about was that you left me. That I wasn’t there to protect you. That I missed you. I was so scared I’d never see you again. At some point, I’d gotten so drunk that all I could see was you! You leaving, you not being able to speak with me for months, you possibly dying... A-And she walked in the bar and she… she looked so much like you… so much so that I stupidly fucking pretended she was. I wasn’t in my right mind, I was so fucked up with anxiety and depression and I was drunk, please tell me you understand!” he pleaded. 

Your eyes tear up immediately, but you blink them away. What kind of sorry ass excuse is that? It didn’t even explain why he spoke to you the way he did, but it doesn’t even matter– this was over. “No.” You verbalize the decision you’d made long ago, beginning to walk away. 

He looks at your stomach, desperation clear on his face. “And what about our kids? You have to let me see them at lea–”

“My kids. They’re my kids. And Suguru’s. You lost every right to them when you decided to be a shit excuse of a man. Is that how you want someone to treat your daughter!? How you want your son to treat women!?” You roar at him, walking up to him and pushing him again and again, not even realizing he’s not using his technique. “We’ve been just fine. Sugu stepped up and he’s been an amazing father. He’d never cheat if things got rough. Never treat me the way you did when I got home. I used to spend countless nights waiting for you to come home and you never did because you’re ‘the strongest’ and you were always needed! Did I cheat? No. It’s just an excuse for you. You didn’t even have the common decency to fucking apologize when caught, you acted like I’d stomped on your parade, you make me sick.” You spat.

Satoru is crying streams of tears now. He knows what you said is true, but he’d never thought the words would come from your mouth. He at least thought he’d be able to meet the kids. His kids. He had always imagined a life with you. Four kids, a huge house, all crazy talented sorcerers. It’s so close and yet… “I ju– I wanna see what they look like... boys? Girls? Both...? Please, su– please?” He asks, correcting himself before he uses his old pet name for you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

You shake your head and stand your ground, though your resolve wavers seeing him like this. Remembering the love you had for each other. “Leave us alone, Satoru. Or I’ll find a way to make sure you never find us again.” You threaten, leaving him alone on the rooftop, making your way down the stairwell.

You make your way home, your pregnancy cravings long forgotten, your mind only on the wish for Sugu’s loving embrace. He greets you at the door with a kiss to your stomach. “How’s the little fighter?” He asks, large hands rubbing your bump, calming you almost immediately. 

“Good...” You respond, relief clear in your voice. You decide it’s best not to tell Geto what happened for fear of pushing him into doing something that may cost him his life.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Two months have passed since leaving Gojo on the roof. You were now in the hospital. “Come on angel, you can do it... I got you... I’m here...” Suguru reassures you as you scream loudly, holding onto his hand so hard you thought you’d break it. Your torso is hunched forward, legs spread while your doctor encourages you to keep pushing.

“I... can’t...” you pant. Your body is on fire and every muscle feels like it’s being torn to shreds. Were the twins this bad? God, you had forgotten. You push again. “One more time pretty girl, you’ve got this...” he kisses your sweaty forehead. You nod and push hard one last time before the room fills with cries. You cry joyfully at the sound of your child, Sugu cutting the cord before taking them to you.

“We’ve got a beautiful girl, angel… You gave us a pretty girl…” he coos proudly, placing the baby on your chest. 

“Oh... oh my God...” you cry. Her eyes are purple, like Suguru’s. “Izumi... her name... is Izumi.” You whisper, stroking her already thick black hair. Looking up at him, your eyes widen. He... that couldn’t be possible. He’s crying. You lost your breath at the sight of something you’ve never seen before. “S-Sugu...” you whimper. 

He smiles and gets down on one knee. You stare in disbelief as he takes out a ring as big and bright as the moon, practically. “Please... marry me... I’m so in love with you that I can’t imagine I could even breathe without you. Let me have the honor of becoming your husband. I swear I’ll always do right by you. Always cherish you. And I will always keep you safe.” He declares, the nurses and doctor around you letting out oohs and awws.

You nod quickly, no hesitation or doubt in your mind. “Yes… God, yes, I love you so much, baby.”

The pieces are starting to fall together, but in order for all of them to fit, a large one needs to be removed.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You stopped hiding to get your divorce with Satoru and much to his displeasure it was all done through lawyers. No contact. He didn’t try to fight it, knowing worse things would come if he did. During that time, Geto had spent his time atoning for his offenses against humankind. It took a few months for Jujutsu Society to accept him, but in this new world with so many more curses, much of them stronger than what the world was used to, they had no choice but to welcome him again and accept his help.

Now, you’re standing in front of a mirror with a wedding gown on again, the sweet sound of giggling ringing through your ears like bells. The twins are in the room helping Izumi walk, as she’d just learned to do so. You can’t even begin to believe they’ve grown so fast. The twins are three years and ten months old and the baby is finally a year and one month old. You smile as you watch them, bending down to pat their heads, the twins looking so much like Toru when they peer up at you with their pretty blue eyes. You sigh and shake the thought away.

Before you know it, Shoko’s coming into the room and telling you it’s almost time to walk down the aisle. She picks Izumi up and brings Mafuyu and Asuka to Manami so they can bear the rings when the time comes. Music starts playing and she comes to you, looking at you with a smirk. “You ready for this?” She asks, fixing a strand of your hair back to place.

“Never been more ready.” You respond, a bright smile on your face, eyes lighting up. Shoko observes the glow on your face, her heart swelling.

“I’m happy you brought him back. I haven’t told you how thankful I am, so I guess there’s not a better time. We all were there, we were all lost for a while after he defected… I didn’t think this was possible, so truly, thank you. I’m just sorry that things happened the way they did.” Her voice is apologetic and your soft smile is a welcome response, you suppose, because with that, she walks to the big doors in front of you and grabs the flower basket. The doors open to reveal the venue being entirely full and she walks down the aisle, handing Izumi flowers to drop along the way.

Your music starts to play and your hands get clammy, your mouth going dry. You feel like the people waiting for you will see your heartbeat the second you’re within sight. That worry crosses your mind and just as you start to shift on your feet, you feel an arm loop into yours. Nanami.

“Are you thinking of chickening out? Looking for a getaway driver? That doesn’t sound like you.” He teases, smiling down at you. You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding immediately, the relief of not being alone washing over you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You say, feeling strong enough to move, now. Your feet carry you forward at the pace of the piano playing and Nanami keeps you steady. The second your eyes land on Suguru’s, you feel the urge to run to him, repeatedly telling yourself not to break into a sprint.

He looks perfect. Hair tied up into a bun, two strands left out on the sides of his face deliberately. He’s wearing a dark blue suit, almost black to anyone who isn’t looking closely enough, but oh you are. His smile is full, crinkling his eyes until they’re almost shut. There’s so much love in his expression that you think you may break under the weight of it all.

And then you reach him. Nanami hands you over and Sugu immediately goes in to kiss you, forgetting the moment when Nanami stops him and shakes his head with a chuckle. Your lover sheepishly grins, embarrassment clear on his face. The pastor tells everyone to sit and the ceremony begins. When it’s time for your vows, he goes first.

“When was it that we fell in love, when we were 24 or 18, maybe 10? I don't know… I don’t know because the truth is: I can't picture a time that I wasn't in love with you. I always knew you were the one that could look into my eyes and see my soul. I don't question your commitment to us and our family and I know there's nothing we can't work through. I accept you as my partner and as my best friend above all else. It's a miracle to find the kind of peace and happiness that you've given me and in honor of that miracle, I pledge before our family and friends to love, protect, and to cherish you forever." He says… and you don’t even realize the tears that are falling from the outer corners of your eyes until he’s wiping them.

And you realize he always has. Even back in high school. Whenever you were hurt out on the field or by Gojo being insensitive or by the loss of your parents, he wiped your tears. He held you. Ever the reliable friend. You think you’ve always loved him to some extent because of that. Even while you were with Gojo. No matter how that may be perceived, it’s the truth.

You smile, sniffling and chuckling. “Well, I don’t know how I’m supposed to follow that.” And your guests all laugh, but you’re only focused on Sugu’s sweet songlike laugh. "But, I’ll start with this… I look at you and I see my best friend. Your energy and your passion inspire me in ways I never thought possible. Your inner beauty is so strong that I no longer fear being myself. I no longer fear at all. I never thought that I could find someone that I could love that would love me back unconditionally. I always thought love came with conditions and pain. Then I realized that  even when we’re apart, you’re always with me. I realized that you’ve always protected me, always wiped my tears. You give me purpose when I feel I have none. Without you and our little family… my soul would be empty, my heart broken, my being incomplete. I thank God every day that you were brought into my life, and I thank you for loving me."

Now, it’s Suguru that’s crying. You can see him shaking and you know it’s because he desperately wants to kiss you right now. You almost laugh, but instead you continue to cry tears of absolute joy.

When you’re finally pronounced husband and wife, Suguru wastes no time in gripping your waist, dipping you down, and kissing you deeply. You let your bouquet dangle and your other hand grips the back of your neck to keep you steady while your lips work against his, pouring all of your love into the liplock. You never expected to feel this much love after having your heart broken, but here it is. All enveloping You broke your kiss to look through the glass windows of the church and at the moon, seeing the shape of a man high above for the briefest of seconds, but not giving it a second thought as it disappears almost instantly, you thinking it was simply a bird.

Meanwhile, Toru lands on the nearby rooftop watching you enjoy your wedding and he cries and cries and cries, screaming to the sky. He can’t do it. Not anymore. He takes out the blade he’d taken from Toji after his defeat and aims it at one of the cerulean blue eyes that have defined him for so long… and he stabs it as he lets out a blood curdling scream. The world goes black soon after…

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ 

He wakes within four white walls three days later, a straight jacket on him as he cries, sad to see that his eye has been healed despite him trying to rid himself of the six eyes. He knows he can escape. Knows that whoever put him here knows. But, he stays put. Too tired. Too broken. He practically goes catatonic for the next six days aside from crying.

“He’s done nothing but cry your name. We had to hook him up to an IV at one point because he’d gotten so dehydrated. He won’t eat... won’t sleep unless we sedate him. I wouldn’t normally contact you about him, but we think the only thing, the only person that can get him out of this is you. He needs you. He’s sorry for what he did, I think he’s shown it enough... this isn’t the Satoru we knew. And you won’t be the woman I’ve always thought you are if you leave him like this.” Yaga tells you sternly. 

You sigh, the baby in your arms and the twins holding onto your legs tightly. You look tired and beaten. The truth is, you haven’t stopped crying since hearing what he’d done. You feel at fault, hilariously enough. You’ve been telling yourself that the least you could have done was let him see his children. Suguru stands behind you and clears his throat. “You should go... he needs you... and the kids... I’ll take Izumi.” He speaks softly while massaging your shoulders, making your eyes tear up.

You give him Izumi and pick the twins up, taking a deep breath before nodding. Yaga opens the door up and you walk in, almost collapsing at the sight before you. “Toru...” you whimper, seeing his frail body on his knees in the middle of the room, just staring at the white wall with tears coming down his cheek. This isn’t right, it isn’t him. His hair is disheveled, skin pale, lips dry and cracked, not nearly as beautiful as you’d always known him to be. 

He doesn’t even raise his head when he speaks. “Could tell you were here. Can always see you so clearly even when you’re not next to me. You’re just my imagination torturing me. Again and again and again.” He croaks out before raising his head, seeing not just you, but the kids. His eyes light up and it’s like his skin brightens. “Sugar...” he smiles, his heartbeat picking up. You kneel down and cry, letting him rest his head on your chest between the twins. “I’m really here, now...” You tell him. You vow not to leave again, not ever.

“I love you... I love you, I love you, I love you...” Toru sobs. You whimper softly and press a kiss to his head.

“I know.” You respond. “Here... this is Mafuyu.” You nudge Toru so he’s sitting up. He loses his breath at the sight of your son and smiles. 

“H-Hey... you look like me, kid...” Toru murmurs. 

You scoff and roll your eyes with a smile. “Yeah, he’s your twin. It’s kind of annoying, actually.” You pout. Oh he’s missed that face of yours.  “This is Asuka.” You smile widely. Asuka hides her face in your neck, frowning at the stranger in front of you. 

“Feisty like her mother. And twice as beautiful.” Gojo compliments, earning Asuka’s smile. 

“These are m-our kids... ours, Toru.” You stroke his hair. “You have to get better... for them... for yourself.” You tell him, trying to get through. 

“For you.” He responds, still a shell of himself. 

“N-no, Toru... not for me. Our time has passed, I’m with Sugu. We have a baby girl together. But you need to be better for you. This isn’t the man I loved that I see in front of me right now.” You sigh, crying silently. 

“You’ll love me if I change?” He asks. He sounds so utterly broken. You whimper and look away for a moment. Looking back to him, you take a deep breath. 

“No... I’ve always loved you, Toru. But for the last three years, it’s only been as the biological father of my children. I can’t see it any other way.” You explain. 

You can see that his fractured mind can’t grasp it. Won’t. “But you love me...” he smiles.

You look down at the man you once loved more than life... the man who broke you... and you sigh, knowing he’ll latch onto any last remnant of sympathy you hold for him. “Toru... I forgive you. We all make mistakes... I did when I kept the twins from knowing their birth father. They deserve to know you... and you deserve to know them.” You put the twins down, moving to remove the straight jacket, hating to see him in it. He’s so frail now. You want to break down, but he needs you to be strong. “Mafuyu... Asuka... this is Toru. He and mommy were married before mommy and daddy were. He’s... your other papa.” You try to explain without confusing them too much. After all, they’re only three years old.

Toru’s eyes light up as the twins nod and look at him curiously. It’s like they gave him strength. He reaches out weakly. “Can I hold them...?” He asks. You nod hesitantly, looking down. 

“Go on, I’m right here.” You tell them. Both, walking hand in hand, walk to Toru and he scoops them up, smiling widely at them before looking at you again. 

“They’re perfect.” He murmurs. You nod and chuckle as Mafuyu tugs at his hair and Asuka observes his pale face. For a split second, your heart stops and you imagine what your life would have been with him. He would have been a good father... but you love Suguru. Even if you still love Toru so deeply it hurts, you couldn’t do that to Sugu.

Suguru walks in with Izumi and sits next to you while Toru plays with the twins. You lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” He asks you. You frown at his tone and look up at him. 

“Of course I do. I love you too, Sugu. Always” You reassure him. He shakes his head, rubbing the baby’s back as she sleeps. 

“He and I were friends, too, you know that. Best friends. It hurts to see him like this for me, too...” he murmurs, making you sigh. 

“I know.” You tell him, sadly. You hate what’s become of you all. There was once a time where you were best friends, all three of you. And then when Sugu went rogue, things changed. Satoru held you closer and Sugu loved you from afar. 

“I see the way you look at him... you still love him. I don’t want to take that from you. I don’t want to lose you, either.” He speaks up again, making you frown. You don’t like how this conversation is going and you try to speak, but he hushes you. “I don’t plan on ever letting you go. But... he needs you. And you need him. Someday, the kids will need him, too. Maybe... maybe we take him home and we take care of him? Maybe we… we try to be what we used to be? A-As a start. I don’t want to see you both broken anymore. Yeah, we can be how we used to be. Before I lost my best friend and my first love. Before we all broke apart.” He finishes, now letting you speak. 

Your eyes are wide and you’re crying without realizing. Speechless. After a few deep breaths, you slowly shake your head. “Sugu...”

“I’ll be fine. It’s what’s best. Besides, once upon a time, Satoru and I felt for each other the same way we feel for you. It isn’t like I’ll be sidelined.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You choke out a strangled laugh, remembering when they had their bisexual awakenings as teens– Harry Styles. “Is that… what you want?” You ask.

He shrugs, an understanding smile on his face. “I get to be with the love of my life, get to raise perfect kids, get my best friend back, and I get to see you both happy again. Yeah, that’s what I want.” He assures you, nudging you before taking your chin into his fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before you both go back to watching Toru interact with the kids.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ 

It’s been a week since you took Toru home with you. He’s out of clothes and needs to grab more back at his house, he told you. He had asked for you to come with so you could talk alone and Suguru had agreed, which made it easier for you to say yes. He’s gotten less delusional, taking things slow. He knows it’ll take time. You two hadn’t spoken about your relationship or touched each other other than when you bathed him when he was weakest on the first night home. He’d bulked up, honestly, he could eat for days. And he did. 

You awkwardly fit within his embrace as he teleports you with him and when you both land at a familiar door, your eyes widen. “T-Toru...” you murmured, shocked to be at the place you ran from almost four years ago, now.

He nods. “I know.” He sighs, holding your hand as he leads you inside. Everything is the same as it used to be... Tears well in your eyes, the memories you both made for the 18 years you’ve known each other playing through your mind. He looks at you and shakes his head, caressing your face as he stands in front of you. “Don’t do that, please... we’re working on it, I’m going to make it up to you.” He tries to get through to you.

You shrug him off and smack his head playfully. “I’m having happy thoughts, idiot.” You smile. He chuckles and shakes his head at you, pulling you close.

“Please tell me I can kiss you.” He hums, eyes closed while his lips just hang above yours. All is right in the world while his arms are around you. You know you’ll love him forever. And yet, you hesitate. You wonder if it’s right. If it’s too soon. He rubs his forehead against yours to smooth the wrinkles that’d formed from the worry. You start to nod and that’s all it takes for him to kiss you deeply. It’s like he was taking you all in through the action, like you fuel his very existence. 

You never realized how much you missed him touching you, but in this moment, it’s all you want. You feel his hands moving to cup your face, smushing you closer to him before they move to your neck, his thumbs brushing under your jaw, making you bite his lip. He hisses in response, making your core ache.

You break away from him after what feels like forever, breathing heavily. He’s just staring into your soul through your eyes and speaking to you without needing to use his voice. You know what he wants. What he needs. You kiss him slowly this time as he hoists you up onto his waist, walking you into what was once both of you guys’ room. You caress his face gently with one hand, the other in his hair, tugging at the snowy locks and earning a groan from him. Whimpers flow into the kiss as his hand comes across your ass– hard. A giggle leaves your lips when he throws you onto the bed and crawls over you. “What a macho man now, hm?” You tease him, winking.

He flashes the most gorgeous smile at you and your heart skips a beat. “Be good f’me, yeah?” He purrs. You know he isn’t asking you, so you nod as he kisses you harder this time, wedging himself between your legs. He trails kisses from your lips to your cheek, down to your neck until he stops to mark you harshly, dark red bruises a stark contrast to your normally clean complexion. Your weeping hole clenches around nothing and you get impatient.

“Toru...” you breathe out. He simply smirks as he moves to your collarbone, reaching for your shirt to strip it from you. With each love bite he leaves, your body is lit ablaze. Once he’s stripped you from your shirt to see you’re not wearing a bra, he marvels at your breasts, taking them both into his large hands, taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking on it hungrily, tonguing it while it’s in his mouth. He repeats the action with the second nipple before releasing it with a pop. He moves lower, kissing down your tummy and your breathing hitches.

Your back arches to bring your skin firmer against his feathery lips, making him press you down. “Sugar.” He warns against your skin, nipping at it harshly. You whine and bite your bottom lip, not wanting to push him further, but wanting to feel him already. When he reaches your waist, he marks both hips before removing ridding you of your shorts with his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on yours. He eyes your sodden underwear, pausing to press a kiss to the newly exposed wet spot, making you suck in a sharp breath and shudder. He laughs lowly at you as you pout, wanting him to take them off. “Say please.” He orders with a smirk. You hate that he can still read you so well, but you immediately comply.

“Pretty please... daddy...” you smirk, knowing that word makes him feral beyond reason. In an instant, he removes your underwear, spreading your thighs wide as he nibbles on the insides of both of them, marking you even more. You whimper and whine until he finally reaches where you ache for him most. 

“Real cute, sugar...” he coos against your moistened folds before spreading them with two fingers and delving his tongue into your sweet core, curling it up just to get a taste. You whimper gratefully, gripping the sheets as he sucks on your clit, making your hips buck and back arch again. He moans against your skin, the vibrations from his voice adding to your pleasure.

Seeing him like this again, you can’t help but shudder. He’s so beautiful, so ethereal. All the love you’d once felt for him had already been coming back bit by bit, but it just feels like it’s flowing into you, filling you more and more by the second. You can tell he worships you. Not just in the way that he ravishes your clit, but in the way he looks at you.

He stops spreading your puffy folds to bring two fingers to your entrance, plunging them deep into you and curling up, wanting to bring you to the point of no return before finally fucking you like the good girl you were for him. He’d fucked into his helpless pillows night after night after night thinking of your pussy and it simply didn’t compare. It never could. Now that he has it back, he’s sure to treat it right.

He takes his time on your cunt, finger fucking your hole and licking stripes between your folds. “Tell me it feels good. Please fuckin’ tell me, sugar.” He hums into your folds before moaning and sucking on your clit again, flicking his tongue on it once inside his mouth.

“Fuck, Toru!” You groan out, your head falling back against the bed as he devours and fingers you at the same time. He grips your thigh tighter as you shake from the pleasure, pressure building up up up in your stomach. He has other plans in mind, unbeknownst to you. You cry out, “I’m– I’m– I’m–”  you begin to repeat yourself, unable to get the words out.

And then you’re suddenly void of his fingers and lips alike, making you whine in protest. He simply chuckles before he moves up, delivering a crushing kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on his warm, swollen, lips and it makes you fucking keen. You don’t even realize it when he’s pulling his pants down, just enough to free his cock out– red and leaking pre-cum. You feel his length sliding back and forth between your sopping wet folds before he shoves himself so deep inside of you, you think you’ll split. “Ah!” You hiss as you come undone beneath him from just that one thrust, your walls twitching around his length as you cum around him. 

He grunts and places a hand beside your head and the other on your throat. “Such a good sweetheart, cumming for daddy in just one thrust.” He grins, making your orgasm even more euphoric. Not giving you a beat, he thrusts inside of you, every stroke seemingly deeper than the last as he progressively fucks harder and harder into your fluttering cunt. “Ahhh, fuck yeah, that’s a good girl. What a fucking good girl you are... still so fucking tight, baby.” He praises you, his hand tightening around your throat until your cries become tiny squeaks.

He buries his face in your neck, nipping at your earlobe. “God, I missed this pussy, baby, I missed my fucking sweetheart.” He hisses, his breath hitching in his throat. He pulls out of you and sits up, slapping his length against your folds and chuckling as you squirm beneath him, aching for more.

“Toruuu… put it back in…” You sigh out, pouting up at him. He bends down again to bite your bottom lip before sitting back up with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, ‘m’gonna give you what you want.” The promise leaves no doubt in your mind and you nod before he abruptly flips you onto your stomach and spanks you so hard it feels like your skin is rising in the shape of his hand. “Let’s make it a pair.” He growls, spanking the other cheek so hard it does the same. You yelp from the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as it aches for him again. He positions his leaky tip against your hole again and props himself up, pushing himself inside of you slowly this time. 

“Ohmyfuckinggod...” You moan, your face and chest red from all the whimpering you’ve done. He feels so good inside of you, it’s like your pussy has its own feelings for him. He reaches so deep into you that you think you’re going to split in two. Despite that, you’re still squirming trying to get down, down, down so stuff yourself more with him.

Chuckling at your reaction, he reaches around to grab your neck and turn your head up to look at him as he strokes into you. He kisses you greedily, moaning into your mouth. The sound of his skin slapping against yours bouncing off the walls and through the condo. His large hand pushes your face into the bed, going deeper and harder, but keeping the same torturously slow pace. You crane your neck just enough to watch yourself in the bedroom mirror as your orgasm starts building again and he doesn’t miss that. “Such a fucking slut... you like what you see, baby? Like watching me stuff you full?” He asks. When you don’t answer, he stops.

“Come on sweetheart, you heard what I asked.” He states firmly. You whine and simply offer him a nod, unable to form words quite yet. “Say it.” He spanks you and stops stroking, making your walls squeeze his length and you whine out for him to continue, fucking back onto his cock as much as you can.

“Yes, daddy, I love it, fuck!” You hiss out, earning a satisfied growl from him as he starts fucking into you again, quickly this time. You clench the sheets as the pleasure pools in your core and he can tell what’s coming. 

“Squeezing so—ngh, fucking tight baby, I’m gonna cum inside, ‘kay? Want you to cum with me.” He grunts out. You moan an “Uh-huh!” before he starts railing you impossibly harder, snapping that rope inside you, making you cum around his length, squeezing so tight he can barely move. He puts all his weight onto you as he releases rope after rope of hot cum into you, filling you to his heart’s content.

It takes a few minutes before he’s finished and you’re both panting hard. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Fuck, I love you, sugar.” He chuckles. He’s missed seeing you under him like this, twitching inside you.

You look at him with eyes half lidded, on a high. “I love you, too.” You smile weakly, slumping forward. That’s when you look back to the mirror, this time spotting a figure in the doorframe, making you jump and shout, covering yourself. Suguru. 

“Took you long enough, emo boy.” Toru grins over at him knowingly. 

“I’ll make rainbow dragon eat you if you test me, dickhead.” He responds quickly, making you giggle. “It’s my turn.” He grumbles, making your eyes widen. He’s already stalking toward you like a lion zeroing in on its prey.

“T-the kids, where are the kids?” You ask, panicking at the thought of Suguru fucking you right now. You’re sore, but that’s not the issue. The issue is you know he’ll have  no remorse after what he’s just seen. He’ll want to one up Toru. 

Suguru smirks darkly and reaches the end of the bed, tilting your head up by your chin. “They’re with Yaga. Toru told me you’d be coming here. Invited me over. Figured he was up to something nasty. Tell me you want me, baby… y’didn’t forget about me, right?” He growls lowly against your lips before kissing you hungrily. 

Toru clears his throat and shakes his head. “I invited you over for the both of us. We both get her.” He clarifies. Oh. Fuck. Suguru waves him off with a roll of his eyes and pushes you back down onto the bed, not paying any mind to Toru. The only thing on his mind is you. He grins as you cower into the pillows, his hands spreading your thighs.

“Sugu…” You hum. He simply sucks his teeth and slips his hand up to squish your cheeks, making your mouth open. You know what’s coming next, it’s something he does only when he wants to fucking ruin you.

“Wider.” He hisses and you comply, opening your mouth as much as you can with his grip on your face. You stick your tongue out, welcoming the fat glob of spit he delivers onto it with a dazed smile, pulling your tongue back into your mouth to swallow. You stick it out again, showing him you’ve swallowed with an “Ahhh~”

You hear Toru huff in the background and Sugu turns to him, nodding his head toward you. Toru needs no further convincing, moving above your head and kissing your forehead. Suguru undoes his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking it. Seeing it after just having seen and felt Satoru’s, you realize he’s much thicker and longer than Toru. Chills travel up your spine and you feel your core ache as you stare down at Suguru in all his glory.

That’s when you feel a strong hand grip your throat and you look up to see Satoru glaring at you like you’d done something wrong– he’s jealous. You’re about to laugh when you feel yourself being split in two by Sugu’s throbbing cock, your mouth getting stuck in an ‘o’ as you choke out a moan, brows knitting together in pleasure. His delectable double frenum ladder piercings sliding against your mushy walls so fucking tastefully. Satoru takes the opportunity to slip himself into your mouth, thrusting in in in all the way down your throat.

Geto gives you no time to adjust, using the cum Toru had filled you with to glide himself in and out of your mushy walls roughly, drilling into you like he was punishing you for having fun without him. You find yourself reaching out to try and place a hand on his abs and slow him down, but you’re stopped by Gojo, who grabs both of your hands and pins them to your chest with one hand. He chuckles down at you, propping himself up on his other hand and fucking into your messy mouth, a long groan drawing from his lips.

Geto chuckles out, looking to Satoru. “Gonna cum already? Can’t blame you. After all, I have been training her mouth to handle me and yo-ngh you don’t come close.” He hisses out between grit teeth, a teasing smirk on his lips. Just like when you were all in high school. Always pissing each other off about who was stronger, who was smarter, who was blah blah blah -er. His hand snakes up to your face, pressing your cheeks in for him. “Gotta hollow your cheeks more, angel, you know he’s not as thick as me. Should be easier to take him.” He huffs, his grip tight.

You prepare yourself to receive whatever Gojo gives you as punishment for Suguru’s teasing, but when you look up and blink away the fat tears in your eyes, you see him… struggling? His brows are knitted together in pleasure as if Sugu’s teasing has only made him more sensitive and it’s confirmed by the globs of precum that seep into your throat, the salty taste unmissable. You moan at the sight of the white-haired angel above you just ruined by your husband’s words and your mouth.

Geto doesn’t miss the look on Satoru’s face and he scoffs. “So easy. Go on, pretty girl, suck him harder. Harder. Need me to show you harder?” Sugu grunts, smacking your face twice before slamming himself harder and impossibly deeper into your reddened, swollen cunt. You cry out, the sound muffled by Gojo’s cock, making his hips stutter while he fucks his cock into your greedy mouth.

You do as told, hollowing your cheeks out even more around Satoru’s length, flattening your tongue so it glides along the top of his shaft. And before you know it, his heavy balls are resting against your nose while he twitches and releases thick ropes of cum deep down your throat. Sugu sees this as an opportunity, grabbing Gojo by his hair and making him look down at where he’s stuffed you full. “See this? Huh? See it?” He huffs out, tightening his grip on Toru’s strands to elicit a moan of an answer from him. “This is how you fuck her pretty little fucking pussy. How you own it.”

And then he’s moaning while his hips just smack smack smack into yours, bullying himself into you like a man starved until he, too, paints your walls with his cum the moment your fluttering hole signals that you’re cumming, too. He pulls out with a smirk, rubbing his still leaking tip against your clit to overstimulate you. Toru pulls out of your mouth and all three of you are left panting, with him falling beside you, curling up behind you, his heavy arm draping over your waist.

“”M gonna go pick up the kids. Just wanted to make sure you were fucked right at least once today, pretty girl.” Suguru speaks up, already redoing his pants. Toru pokes his tongue out at your dark-haired lover and you giggle.

“Bye baby.” You hum, earning a wink from him before he leaves.

You end up falling asleep for hours with Toru by your side. When you get home from your day with Toru, you smile, seeing Suguru with the kids. He’s always been such a beautifully perfect father. You hold your hands out and call for the twins. Mafuyu teleports half the distance before reappearing and your eyes go wide. You hear Suguru choke on his own saliva in the background. “D-did he ju-“ You start, but Toru interrupts. 

“Hecks yeah! Up top, dude!” He shouts, high fiving Mafuyu and picking him up to spin him around. Asuka smacks her father’s leg and whines. She’s always been the jealous type, so this surprises no one. He picks her up too and snuggles her. Suguru leaves for a moment and comes back with Izumi in hand and you lean against the front door, taking in the sight of your beautiful children and the handsome men in front of you. 

You’ve been blessed beyond belief. “I love you both more than my own life.” You smile softly. Suguru looks at you and notices the tears in your eyes, coming close to kiss your forehead.

“Give mommy a kiss, Zuzu.” He coos, letting the baby do a kissy face to you before you kiss her. 

“Thank you, my love!” You giggle. You look to the back to see Toru gone, making your brows furrow. “Toru?” You call, walking into the living room. No answer. “Toru!” You shout again, going up the stairs and not finding him. Your heart begins to race and you look outside, unable to find your twins or the love of your life.

“Toru!” You scream at the top of your lungs outside as the wind whips around you. 

“Mommy!” You hear from above and your eyes widen to the sight of Asuka falling from the sky. 

“Oh my God!” You cry out. Before you can think, Toru teleports to her mid air and she giggles. You place your hand over your heart, trying to calm your breathing to slow its beating. “What. Are. You. DOING!?” You scream into the air, watching him laugh and joke with the kids. He comes down, nonchalantly shrugging. 

“Teaching them how to teleport by putting them in a position where they have to.” He responds matter of factly. You squint at him in disbelief, smacking him upside the head.

“I’ll kill you the next time you take them without letting me know. Are you really that excited for their abilities to come, doofus!? What if Asuka doesn’t have that ability at all?” You sigh, taking the kids into both of your arms. 

Toru laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Of course, they’re my littlest sugars and they need to be trained well. We can teleport places all the time together, it’ll be so cool! Asuka almost had a bit of an accident because daddy has butterfingers, but all is fine here.” He reassures you. 

You see Suguru relax and shake his head. “Airhead.” He shrugs, walking away. 

“EMO BOY!” Satoru retorts, pouting before smirking at Mafuyu. “Who’s up for round 2?” He asks. You immediately step in. 

“No sir! Bedtime it is.” You poke your tongue out at him.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

It’s been a year since you, Toru, and Suguru had gotten together as one. You wake and realize they were both being as possessive as ever even in their sleep, because they have your body slanted so that they can have you on top of both of them. You smirk and see Toru down cuddling your waist as he curls around your legs and Suguru has his arm around your chest, grabbing your boob and his head resting on yours. You can’t believe how touch starved they are sometimes. But this was how things are. Peaceful. Beautiful. Perfect.

“Good morning...” Suguru mumbles, scaring you. You raise a brow at how quickly he’d woken after you and he chuckles. “I felt your chest rise suddenly when you first woke up. You do it all the time. Like you’re waking up from a nightmare.” He hums, already aware of what’s on your mind. 

You shake your head and smile at him. “Anything that takes me away from this life– my two men and my beautiful kids, is a nightmare. Good or bad.” You tell him. You feel Toru stir and wedge his hand between your thighs. 

“Well, that’s nice to wake up to.” He grumbles, cuddling closer to you. You grin and raise your head up to kiss Suguru and his hand goes from your breast to your throat, keeping you there for a deep kiss. “No fair, emo man.” Toru pouts below you. 

“Bite me, chicken legs.” Suguru retorts before moving to your neck. Toru huffs and moves his hand higher between your legs, reaching his favorite honeypot. 

“Two can play at that game.” He smirks.

The morning goes by rather interestingly and you play it over and over again in your head as you drive the kids to Yaga’s. You walk into his home and are met with Megumi and Tsumiki, two kids Satoru had saved years ago and placed under Yaga’s ward. “Long time no see... I’ve missed seeing your face around here.” Megumi smiles at you. You roll your eyes, but he was right. In the last 5 years, you’d probably seen him once or twice. He’d grown up. 

“Moms are busy bees, Gum Gum.” You tease, using his childhood nickname. Yaga walks in and the twins run to him, Izumi waddling behind them. “Thanks so much for taking them.” You nudge him as he picks all three of them up in his scarily large arms. 

He nods and immediately takes them away, cooing and baby talking to them. You, Megumi’s, and Tsumiki’s eyes go wide at the sight before you and you slowly back out, closing the door behind you. The entire drive home, you think of ways to make fun of him for that later and when you get home, you were excited to tell Sugu and Toru how much of a softie their old teacher has become. 

You unlock the door and walk in, not seeing either of your doofuses. Probably sleeping. When you walk into your guys’ shared room, however, you’re met with a view that will be burned into your memory for all time. “Uhhh...” you whisper into the air. And the world stops.

Suguru looks at you with an unreadable expression, Satoru’s head in one of his hands, pressed down into the bed, his other hand mid air about to spank Toru. And his cock? Buried to the hilt inside of your snow-headed lover.  “Wh...” You try to speak, but you catch sight of Toru’s expression, his face red and his body sweaty beneath Suguru’s. You would have never thought you’d see this... never thought it’d happen.

“Cat got your tongue or something, angel?” Suguru asks as he rubs the flesh of Toru’s ass, slowly moving within him. Grinding. Teasing.  You choke on your words and slowly back against the door hearing Toru whimper. Is this even real? How long have they even been doing this? Shaking your head, you start to turn around, but Toru speaks up.

“Wait, wait, wait... please don’t leave.” He whines, his voice worn and tired. You look at Suguru as he continues doing what he does best and then back down at Toru. 

“Why?” You ask him, wary. He grunts and moans before speaking again. 

“W-wah-wanna feel you, too.” He admits, his face becoming redder. Your breath hitches in your throat and you gulp. Suguru smirks knowingly and all you can focus on is his cocky smile and the wet sounds coming from their connected bodies. 

“Come on, baby... I won’t bite. Much.” He winks at you, moving rougher. Your heart squeezes as you comply and remove your belongings. You step closer and closer, removing your last article of clothing as you reach the edge of the bed.

“Come here, sweetheart...” Toru coos. Suguru stops thrusting for a moment so that you can get under Toru. He spreads your legs so wide it feels like you’re going to be torn in half as Toru kisses at your neck, nipping to leave his mark on you. He pulls away and spits on his fingers, staring you in the eye as he moves his hand to your pussy, pleasantly surprised to feel you already wet for him. Your back arches up as he rubs your bundle of nerves slowly, wanting him to fill you up already so badly it hurts. 

“Please...” you beg him, earning a chuckle from both Toru and Suguru. 

“Your wish-“ he thrusts deep into you without warning and you cry out. “My command.” Toru finishes, smirking at the look of pleasure etched on your face.

You lose your breath feeling the sudden pleasure of being filled by him, the knowledge that Suguru is inside him only turning you on more. He begins licking and sucking on your perked nipples when Suguru grunts. “Brace yourself, my love.” He groans before forcing himself deeper into Toru, which pushes Toru deeper into you. Your walls clench around his cock and you moan loudly, wrapping your arms around Toru’s neck to keep you steady. Toru whimpers shakily at the feeling of being pleased on both ends, trying desperately not to cum already. You’ve never heard him sound like this before. Utterly ruined.

“Good girl...” Suguru smirks, pulling out and then forcing himself back into Toru. He spanks his ass roughly before holding your legs apart and using them as leverage to fuck into him harder, pulling you in with each thrust. 

“Oh, fuck!” You choke out, Toru’s moans against your neck making this even more exhilarating. The way his dick twitches and swells even more within you makes you feel like you’ll split.

“Come on, baby, let me hear you again...” Suguru begs. Both you and Toru cry out as he fucks even harder, making Toru grind into you rougher. The feeling makes your mind go blank and you clutch the sheets, unable to keep yourself steady anymore with the way you’re fucked out.

Suguru abruptly pulls out of Toru, making Toru whine for his cock again before he slides the condom off, moving around to your head. He smirks down at you and leans forward to grab your face roughly. “Edge of the bed. Open wide, angel.” He directs. 

You and Toru reposition yourselves so that your head hangs from the bed and you open your mouth. At the same time, Suguru and Satoru force themselves inside of you, Toru deep inside of your core and Sugu hitting the back of your throat. You cry out, but the sound is stifled by Suguru’s length in your throat, his hand firm on your face. “That’s a good little slut... take it.” He snarls, fucking your mouth hard. 

Toru scoffs, getting on his knees and sitting up while he holds your thighs. He folds you up slightly as he begins to pound into you, making your weeping pussy tighten around him, the slick stringing between you two. His hand finds its way to one of your breasts, slapping it hard and pinching your nipple. “Scream for me, my bad girl, scream for my fucking cock. Gonna make you p-hah- pay for interrupting a good fucking.” He warns, moaning as he strokes slowly, but roughly into you, teasing you. You cry out at the pleasure of feeling him getting so fucking deep into you, trying your best to be attentive to Suguru as well.

You suck Suguru’s length hard as you close your eyes, feeling his piercings hitting deeper inside your throat, making you gag, your throat tightening around his tip. You open your eyes again to see Suguru and Satoru making out above you, making you squeeze even tighter around Toru’s cock. He pulls away from Suguru to moan. “Fuck yeah, milk me, baby, milk my cock...” he smirks. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your body shudders, your stomach tightening as you feel that oh so familiar feeling building up. You’re surprised when Suguru pulls out and grunts out moans as he cums on your chest, making you cum hard onto Toru’s dick.

“F-fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Toru whimpers out, spurting his cum inside of you deeply. You’re still shaking from your orgasm. Suguru backs up and moves to the drawer, pulling out his favorite accessory. Your collar and chain. You whimper seeing it and Toru smacks your face roughly. “Don’t whine, you’ve been such a good girl so far.” He warns you, pulling out of your leaking hole. 

Suguru nods at Satoru, switching spots with him. He flips you on your stomach and pulls your ass up into the air before collaring you, gripping the chain roughly enough that you don’t even need to prop yourself up.. He shoves himself into you, making you scream out and clench the sheets. “Sugu!” You shout, only for Toru to use that opportunity to push himself deep into your mouth. 

Satoru bends over and uses his fingers to collect the cum from your chest that Suguru had left, tasting it and making Suguru groan loudly. “So fuckin’ dirty...” he praises Toru, fucking you harder and quicker as the chain rattles with each thrust. You suck Toru’s cock deep into your throat enthusiastically, cock drunk moans vibrating through his length as you let them flow. Toru moans before holding your head steady so he can start thrusting into your mouth, kissing Suguru again. 

The sight of them above you has your pussy twitching, making Suguru’s breath hitch. He begins rubbing your clit, making you continuously clench and release around his length the way he loves so fucking much. Toru moans above you and clutches your throat above the collar as he face fucks you, cutting off your airway ever so slightly. Your eyes tear up and your face turns red as you ascend to the greatest fucking plane of existence. 

Toru grunts and sucks in a sharp breath. “I-I’m gonna!” He shouts before cumming into your waiting mouth. You swallow his hot cum and lick the remnants from your lips like a mindless slut when he pulls out, making him chuckle. He strokes himself trying to prolong his pleasure while watching you and Suguru, giving Suguru an idea. 

He pushes your body down into the bed as he enters you again, grinding into you hard. “You watch him stroke that cock and take all of mine, babygirl, take. it. all.” He growls in your ear, pulling the chain leash tightly. 

“Y-yes daddy!” You cry out, cumming hard at the sight of Satoru stroking his length. Your pussy clenches so tightly around Sugu that he cums immediately with a hiss. You’ve become a puddle of a mess and he pulls out of you to kiss your ass before spanking it. “Such a good girl, baby...” he praises you as Satoru bends down to kiss your lips, no longer stroking himself. 

All you can do is smile in a daze, your body used and sore in ways you never thought possible.

And you spend God knows how many days in that same state. The rest of your life filled with love, family, and pleasure like you’ve never known.

[beomcoups]

Stupid Cupid (teaser)

➻❥ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are madly in love with your best friend and it's eating you alive. One day you will tell him how you feel, but you have to deal with his girlfriend first.

➻❥ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend!hansol x reader

➻❥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, roommates au, best friends to ?, angst, fluff, implied smut (for teaser)

➻❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of sex, cursing, kelsey is a bitch (full fic will all all the warnings)

➻❥ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 753 for the teaser; actual fic will be over 8k

➻❥ 𝐀𝐍: This for the collab "Lonely Hearts Cafe", hosted by @camandemstudios. Read the full fic here

You are in love with Hansol. 

Hopelessly, stupidly, trip over your feet when he’s around, butterflies in your stomach kind of love. He’s everything you could want in a guy and your best friend, someone you can just chill with no expectations. You both love Star Wars, attend anime cons together, and are allergic to peanuts. You share a home with him and it feels like home in your heart when he’s near. You’re in love with Hansol. There is only one problem: he has an on-and-off girlfriend. 

A girlfriend you particularly hate. 

Kelsey is always around, taking up your space, and it’s aggravating. You wish you could say that it’s not serious, but to your chagrin, they have been on and off for a couple of years. It’s bad enough that you can’t tell Hansol how you feel, but then you have his girlfriend, a huge social media influencer, always at your condo every time you’re there. You would think she would like to take her “influence " elsewhere. It’s exacerbating. 

“Hey there girl,” Kelsey calls out as you walk to the kitchen. She is sprawled out with her laptop on your living room floor rug, wearing a cut-off shirt, the tiniest shorts you have ever seen, and knee-high socks. Where does she live again?

“What’s up?” you respond, barely hiding the irritation in your voice. 

“Oof, you’re definitely not a morning person,” she scoffs. “Do you think you can stay out tonight? Vernon has this Hollywood thing he has to attend to tonight, and he is stressed about it. So I want to help him relax if you know what I mean.” 

You raise your eyebrows at her referring to him as Vernon, which he only tells his coworkers to call him. Hansol is a cinematographer, and a damned good one. He works for a major film studio and is invited to parties all the time. He only goes for the free food and booze, he says, because those people don’t care about anything but themselves and their pockets, let alone pronouncing his first name correctly.

Kelsey is not a coworker; she is, unfortunately, his girlfriend. Why doesn’t she call him by his preferred name?

“What does you wanting to help Hansol relax have to do with me being here?” you ask, making yourself a cup of coffee. 

“Well.” She clicks her tongue. “It’ll be pretty awkward for me to be blowing his brains out while you’re here, ya know?”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying what is on your mind, instead focusing on making your elaborate coffee with whipped cream and caramel syrup on top. This girl really has some nerve. 

“Kelsey,” you let out a small sigh. “I’m not leaving my house because you want to fuck. Do whatever you please.” You slam the whipped cream can on the container. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” 

Irritated, you walk past her and speed into the hallway, almost running into Hansol, who is leaving his bedroom. Wearing a red shirt and pajama pants, he has bedroom hair and a hint of sleep in his eyes. He looks adorable. 

“Where are you running off to?” His voice is deep and groggy. 

“I am running away from that peach of a girlfriend you have in there.” You roll your eyes. “Plus, I have to get ready for work.” 

“Oh no, what did she do now?” 

“Nothing, aside from asking me to stay out of the condo that I pay for tonight so she can fuck you as loud as she wants,” you say bluntly. 

Hansol’s eyes widen in shock, the little sleepiness he had evaporated. “She didn’t say that?” 

“She just about said that,” you sigh, leaning on the wall. “Look, I have to get ready for my day, but we have to have a conversation later. Not tonight, because I know that party is happening. But at some point, we do.” 

“Okay,” he says, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry,” you sigh again, deeply this time. “Let’s just chat soon, okay?”

You step into your room and shut the door, your heart beating out of your chest. That was not a conversation you want to have early in the morning, and Kelsey being around more and more makes you erratic. Eventually, a conversation will have to be had about how much time she is spending here and everything. But right now, you will sip your elaborate coffee and try to get through the day. 

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ the one where popular!chris and cinderella!reader come face to face but not in the way you’d expect

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ find everything posted for them so far here

the first day back was never easy, but today felt unbearable.

your stomach in knots as you glance at the clock, 8:07am, you were running late, as usual, after being forced at last minute into an early morning shift at the diner by your stepmother, in the chaos of rushing through the morning, you still hadn’t replied to the message you had received late last night from your mystery guy.

you grab your bag, shoving the door open, and hurried out the diner, stomach growling loudly, you hadn’t eaten this morning, your nerves for the first day making you lose your appetite and the last thing you wanted was to be late, everything felt like it was slipping out of your control.

when you finally arrive, the hallways were packed, buzzing with the chatter of students reuniting after the summer break, everywhere you looked, there were groups of friends, hugging, laughing, and picking up where they had left off, the noise swirling around you, and you keep your head down, moving quickly through the crowd, trying to remain unnoticed until you could find your own group of friends.

as you walk through the crowded hallway, your mind can’t help but wander to him, was he here too? was he standing infront of you right now? talking to someone, laughing with his friends? you scan the sea of familiar faces, wondering if any of them could be him. it was crazy to think about really, how you could be texting someone so often, all day every day for weeks, yet not have a clue what he looked like in real life. your chest tightens at the thought, you could be walking past him and never know.

just as you round a corner, your phone buzzes in your pocket, you pull it out, heart skipping when you see his name on the screen, it felt as if he could hear the thoughts you hadn't spoken, all focused on him.

08:27 BoyOnTheField hope your first day back isn’t too bad :)

you smile at your phone, the simple message bringing a brief moment of calm, it felt good to know he was thinking of you.

you hadn't replied to him again, distracted by a phone call that had come over the screen from one of your friends, confirming that they were all waiting for you by the cafeteria, your mind wandered, distracted by the chaos of the day ahead, you hadn't even realised how quickly you'd gotten lost in thought until, out of nowhere, you felt it.

BANG

someone had slammed into you, sending you flying off balance, the collision was hard and sudden, giving you barely any time to react as your books you were carrying fly from your arms, your papers scattering across the hallway, you stumble, trying to catch your balance, but end up crashing to the floor with a thud.

“fuck, i am so sorry” a deep voice, mutters and as you look up, your breath catches in your throat.

chris sturniolo. the football captain, of course.

he was the guy everyone knew, someone who could command a whole room without even trying, and because of that, you were already bracing for the inevitable: him making a scene out of this, he was popular, and that usually meant one thing, a loud apology, maybe a joke at your expense, definitely some attention from the rest of the hallway.

but to your surprise, he doesn’t do any of that, instead, he just looks down at you with wide eyes, clearly flustered as he bends down to gather your papers.

“i’m sorry again, fuck, it’s my bad” he says quickly, “i was too busy on my phone and didn’t see you, it’s all my fault”

he bends down to help you pick up another book, but as he does, he holds his hand out to you, “let me help you up, please”

your heart was now racing, and for a brief moment, you hesitate, nearly take him up on his offer to help you up, but you quickly look away, the embarrassment of falling in front of him, combined with the awkwardness of the moment, made you feel small, you didn’t want him to help you, you just wanted to get up and out of there as soon as possible.

“no, it’s okay” you mumble, voice barely audible, you pull yourself up from the floor, face hot with humiliation, you quickly scramble to collect the last of your scattered papers, hands shaking slightly.

chris stands there for a moment, looking like he wants to say something, but before he could, a voice calls out from behind him.

“nice one man” the voice mocks, “flirting with diner girl now? you’re gonna give her false hope”

you freeze, your stomach twists, and your cheeks flush as you realise now that you are the one being called diner girl, the cruel nickname stings more than you expected, your whole body felt intense, another wave of embarrassment hitting you, you look down at the papers in your hands, avoiding his gaze.

chris looks uncomfortable now, glancing over his shoulder at his friend, not knowing what to say or how to make this situation any better but then his friend continues to speak, “come on man, we’re gonna be late for practice, let’s go”

but as they start to walk away, chris’s friend shouts once more, this time a little louder, making sure everyone hears, “oh hey, diner girl—don’t forget, we want extra special customer service next time after you just crashed into the college’s football captain. you earned it!”

his words hang in the air, a mocking comment that seems to echo in your ears, you didn’t know what to do with yourself, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you feel the eyes of a few students on you, and your cheeks burn a darker shade of red with embarrassment, you stuff your papers into your bag and walk in the opposite direction, trying to escape the moment, so desperate to avoid any more attention.

as you walk away, you feel a sharp pang of bitterness—you’d always thought you were invisible to the popular crowd, but apparently, you were wrong.

they knew exactly who you were—diner girl.

eeeek!

come send me asks about them, i love these two and want to talk about them always :)

enjoy & let me know ur thoughts!

[theywantedplayer]

Master list

PromptList

AN-this is longer than what I usually do I hope yall fuck with it since I haven't been writing lots bc I got exams in 2 weeks fm

You started noticing Nico acting differently—not just on the ice but also when it was just the two of you at home. He always had a nurturing attitude, which his teammates liked to tease him about by calling him "Mother Nico." He was always a caring and intuitive guy, picking up around the apartment even though you knew he had a stressful schedule during the NHL season.

He handled it all well, balancing everything quite skillfully. You’d often hear stories from your friends who were dating other players on the team about how their boyfriends always prioritized hockey, but Nico wasn’t like that.

Then, around the winter months, things started to change. He seemed slower, quieter, and less talkative like a dark cloud constantly hung over him. The Devils weren’t performing as well in the standings as usual, and Nico took it personally as the captain. He acted like the team’s struggles were entirely his fault, carrying the weight of it on his shoulders.

Nico had always been your rock. He let you talk to him about anything that was bothering you, offering a listening ear and unwavering support. But as the winter months set in, you started to realize that the dynamic only seemed to go one way. You could sense something was troubling him, but he never opened up about it.

Little things began to slip. He forgot whose turn it was to make dinner, skipped doing the laundry, or left the dishes undone—things he’d always been on top of. At first, you didn’t mind picking up the extra load, understanding how stressful the season must have been for him. But as October came, you decided it was time to bring it up. You never expected his reaction.

"I’ve noticed you’ve been off, and I’m worried about you," you finally said, folding laundry on the dining room table. Your voice was calm but firm, wanting to make your concern seen.

"What makes you say that?" he replied, his gaze fixed on the TV.

Your eyes flickered between him and the screen. He was watching SportsCenter, listening to reporters make critical and unsupportive remarks about the Devils' performance. It was clear their words had struck a nerve

“Well, you haven’t been picking up around the house lately, and you’ve just been quieter. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” you said as you folded his t-shirts.

Truthfully, you didn’t mind picking up more around the house. You’d always told Nico he didn’t need to do as much as he did, but he always insisted. Still, as you tried to talk to him, it felt like walking on landmines. He was so quiet, and you were afraid he might explode at any moment.

“Seriously?” he said coldly, finally turning his head toward you.

“You know I don’t have a problem with you not doing housework. You just haven’t been yourself lately,” you said, trying to keep your tone gentle. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“If you don’t have a fucking problem with it, then why are you bringing it up?” he snapped, his tone ice-cold.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You could feel where this conversation was headed. Setting down the hoodie you’d been folding, you rested your hands on the table and turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, and that familiar resting bitch face of his—the one that intimidated people who didn’t know him—made you hesitate for just a moment. You knew it wasn’t truly who Nico was, but even now, it unsettled you just a little. Seeing someone who was always the sweetest and more caring one in the room suddenly has the face of one who at first glance didn't seem like it was a shock, but you always knew your boyfriend and knew that wasn't true.

“Nico, I’m not trying to start anything,” you said softly. “I just know something’s wrong, and you won’t even fucking talk to me about it.” you regretted the swear as soon as it left your mouth knowing it seemed like a push to him.

“Because I don’t need to,” he stated flatly.

You sighed again, frustration and worry bubbling inside you. Nico was the guy who always told everyone else they could talk to him, but he never talked to anyone about his stuff even rarely at times with you.

“Well, I think you do,” you said, your voice firmer this time as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t trying to start a fight, but you couldn’t let this slide. “I think talking about it would really help. You’ve been so quick to anger lately, so quiet, and I’m worried about you. You can talk to me. Why do you feel like you can’t?”

You noticed the slight clench of his jaw before he responded. “I have a lot of shit going on. I’m sorry if I’m not picking up around the house anymore. Just leave it alone,” he said, his tone laced with annoyance. “Just leave me alone.”

With that, he turned his body and full attention back to the TV. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he turned up the volume at the same time. Whether it was intentional or not, it sent a clear message: he wasn’t continuing this conversation. And as much as you knew it needed to happen, you didn’t have the energy to force it either.

About a month later, near the end of November, you could tell things had only gotten worse. The Devils were in the middle of a six-game losing streak, and it was eating at Nico. The frustration came to a head after a particularly brutal loss—shut out by Vegas, 5–0.

The walk back to the car was painfully silent. The only words Nico said as he handed you the keys were, “You drive.”

You nodded wordlessly, slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The drive home, which should’ve been 20 minutes, stretched to nearly 45 because of post-game traffic. Normally, after a tough game like this, Nico would vent to you—sharing ideas for new plays or strategies to motivate the team. But tonight, he sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the sea of brake lights in front of you.

At every red light, you glanced over at him, silently checking in. He didn’t say a word, but you could see the storm brewing in his mind. This wasn’t just a bad game or a bad week; it was months of mounting pressure. He wasn’t himself anymore, and you knew he was close to breaking.

When you finally pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building, you turned off the car and opened your door. “Come on, Nic, let’s just go to bed,” you said gently, stepping out.

You expected to hear the passenger door open, but instead, there was silence. Turning back, you saw him still sitting there, unmoving. His hand hadn’t even reached for the door handle. It was like he hadn’t even heard you.

You walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, crouching down slightly to meet his eye line. “Nico,” you said softly, your voice laced with concern. “Let’s go inside.”

You could see it—the weight of everything he’d been bottling up for months. The pressure, the expectations, the emotions he refused to show. He was on the verge of breaking, and you just wanted to help him before he shattered completely.

He was too prideful.

But still, you were met with silence. You reached out and softly grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. You tried to pull him out of the car, but he pulled his hand back, holding yours tightly in both of his. He stared down at your hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. You sat there, unsure of what to say, just trying to comfort him in the smallest way possible. In two years of dating, you’d only ever seen Nico shut down like this once before—after the Devils' playoff run in 2023.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “What the fuck is going on?”

You couldn’t tell if he was talking to you, to himself, or to no one at all. His voice wavered, trying to hide the emotion threatening to break through. It pained you—he’d seen you cry countless times, about everything from stress to happiness, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let you see him like this.

“I know it’s tough,” you said softly, squeezing his hand again.

“It’s more than just fucking tough,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “We’ve been playing like shit, and there’s nothing I can do. The reporters are tearing us apart, and I have no idea how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know what the fuck to do!”

His voice cracked, but he kept going, the dam finally breaking.

“In the locker room, on the ice—everyone looks at me like I have all the answers. Like I’m supposed to solve all our fucking problems. But I don’t. What kind of captain can’t even fix his team?”

“It’s not your job to fix your team,” you said plainly, your voice steady.

For the first time since the game, he looked up at you, and your heart broke at the sight. His big brown eyes glistened, tears pooling just at the edge, threatening to spill over.

“I’m the captain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking. “It is my job. It’s my responsibility to keep the team together, to make sure we don’t fall into shit like this.” His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and he shook his head, as if rejecting your words outright.

“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” you said gently. “You’ve been doing that for years.”

“Pressure?” he scoffed bitterly. “If it’s not me putting it on, it’s everyone else.”

Your expression softened, and you brought your other hand up to run your fingers through his damp hair. “If you’re the one putting it on yourself, then you can also take it off,” you said quietly. “I’m right here, Nico. I’ve been telling you that since the day we met. If you’re feeling anything—everything—you can talk to me.”

He shook his head again, looking up at you with so much guilt it made your chest ache. “I can’t do that to you. You’ve got enough going on with school and exams. I can’t be one more thing.”

“That’s bullshit,” you said, sighing. “I love you. Nothing is more important to me than you. Keeping all this bottled up is only making it worse, Nico. You need to let it out. Talk to me.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes softened as you wiped away a single tear that slipped down his cheek.

“But I’m the captain. People are supposed to look up to me and lean on me. It’s my job to take care of everyone else,” he said weakly.

“Yeah, and it’s my job to take care of you,” you said firmly. “I knew what I was signing up for when we got together. Dating a pro athlete comes with challenges that most people don’t face, and I knew it’d be hard sometimes. But Nico, you make it so easy to love you. The only thing that makes this hard is that you don’t talk to me when you’re struggling. I want to be your rock, too. I want you to come to me, vent for hours if you need to, cry if you need to. I just want to help you.”

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, and his voice cracked as he said, “I feel like I have to hold it together all the time. Half the time, I’m not. If we’re losing, I feel like it’s my fault. If I can’t lead us to a win, what kind of captain does that make me?”

“You’re playing fucking hockey, Nico,” you said bluntly. “You’ve been doing this your whole life. You know what you’re doing, and you know what your team needs. But it’s not your job to fix everything. They’re grown men with their own shit going on. The best thing you can do is be there for them, support them. But you can’t carry the whole team on your back.”

A bitter laugh left his lips. “Everyone thinks we’re a shit team right now. We’re getting blown out almost every game.”

You smiled softly, glad to see the tension beginning to leave his shoulders as he let everything out. “Don’t you think Quinn felt like that, too?” you asked.

His brows furrowed in surprise at the mention of his friend's brother.

“He’s captain of the Canucks. They were a mess for years but look at them now. They’ve turned it around. People respect them because they fought through it. You will, too. You’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this. Why don't you try and talk to him about this, Quinn's a really helpful guy he's helping me so much, growing up he was the first person I'd go to"

Nico knew your history with the Hughes you guys grew up together and spent nights at the lake house together, even though Nico didn't know Quinn as well as he knew his energetic little brother, Jack,  he could tell from the few times that they've met that he was a great guy to go to for advice.  He honestly really liked Quinn,  one time during the summer during the off-season the Hughes family invited you and Nico to spend a couple weeks at the lake house with the original group. Being Cole, Trevor the Hughes brothers, and some other buddies from Michigan, Nico was a little nervous about going since he only really knew Jack, Luke and You but Quinn and Nico honestly gravitated towards each other and got along quite well, he introduced Nico to the rest of the group and everyone hit it off from there on.

and during one of those nights at the lake house he and the eldest brother were sitting out by the fire when everyone was inside they ended up having generally deep talk and confided in each other about being captains of a team at a very young age. At the time Nico barely knew Quinn this was really the first time he was actually able to sit down and fully get to know the young defenseman but still he talked to him knowing they shared the same worries and since then they've always kept in contact.

Everyone always loved it when New Jersey played Vancouver because they called it the "Hughe's Bowl" since the three brothers were playing on the same ice against each other for the first time in a long time. Nico always looked forward to that since usually after those games if Vancouver wasn't heading back that night Nico and the three brothers would go out and always get a beer together. 

 Nico could slightly feel his face heat up with embarrassment. not about opening up but about not doing it sooner.  he loved you and he knew you always wanted the best for him so he just felt stupid for not realizing that sooner and trusting someone with his problems but it wasn't just somebody it was you 

He was quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a deep laugh. You blinked in surprise at the sudden shift, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m an idiot,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been sitting on this for months, and after less than ten minutes of talking to you, I already feel better. No wonder you were pushing me to open up.”

You laughed with him, relief washing over you as he climbed out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug. He buried his face in your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your skin, holding you close.

You hugged him just as tightly, feeling the warmth radiating from his body after the game. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Nico. And I need you to know you can always talk to me about anything.”

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own still glistening but now softer. He just saw you prove that too. him but he really needed to hear you say it. He kissed you gently, then rested his chin on your head, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m fucking tired.”