#Blended Water is a choice but you have to work together to fuck up the soup that much

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 24

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 7k

Chapter rating: NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, SMUT

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 24: I'm Still Angry

On the first night, you’d drowned your thoughts in a haze of alcohol, seeking refuge in the oblivion it promised. On the second night, you’d danced with reckless abandon, losing yourself in the rhythmic pulse of the music until memories blurred into nothingness. And on the third night, exhaustion had claimed you, pulling you into a deep slumber that offered respite from the chaos of your mind… until the sound of music beckoned you to start the whole ritual once again.

Outside, the storm raged on, its fury unabated by the passage of time. But within the cozy confines of the tavern, the tempestuous winds and torrential rain faded into the background, drowned out by the lively chatter and infectious laughter of its patrons. In the warm glow of the lanterns, you found solace from the relentless onslaught of the elements and your thoughts. 

You hadn't returned to the ship in over a week, your stubbornness fueling your determination to stay away. The idiot could fall on Yokubari and fucking go to hell, for all you cared, or so you kept on telling yourself. During this time, Nami had visited the tavern on a few occasions, indulging in a drink or two while checking up on you. Initially, concern had etched lines of worry on her face, evident in the way she probed for details about what had transpired between you and the swordsman. But when you remained unwilling to talk, she had simply sighed in resignation, accepting your silence with a weary understanding. She assured you that they would come to fetch you before they set sail again.

"So, what's your poison tonight?" The question cut through the din of the tavern, drawing your attention back to the present moment. Leaning against the worn wood of the bar, you regarded the boy with a half-smile, appreciating his easy charm and friendly demeanor.

He had been a constant presence over the past few days, a willing partner in the impromptu dance sessions that had become a nightly ritual. Together, you had spun and laughed, losing yourselves in the music and the fleeting moments of joy it brought. He was flirty but not pushy, making him perfect for whatever you were trying to achieve with this temper tantrum of yours.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he awaited your response, his expression a curious blend of anticipation and amusement. "I think I'll stick to water tonight," you confessed with a chuckle, your voice tinged with a hint of ruefulness. "I'm still feeling the aftermath of those drinking games from last night."

The boy laughed lightly, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. His flirty attempt was clunky, unpracticed. "Water it is then," he murmured, his tone playful yet colored with a sliver of disappointment. "But don't think you can escape me that easily. We've got some dancing to do, remember?" 

You tossed your head back at his awkward charm, laughing heartily. Goodness, he never gave up. As you watched your dance partner come back with your drink, you noticed how he faltered in his step, how he blanched a little as he glanced over your shoulder. 

You didn’t even need to look to guess what had unsettled the boy so, but still you stared at the swordsman effectively looming over you.

Oh.

He was angry.

Your eyes traveled from his face to the swords at his side, landing on Yokubari, still strapped at his waist. You scowled, the blazing anger within you refueled at the sight. The urge to throttle him still unbelievably strong. Didn’t matter, two could play this game, your own fury not to be underestimated.

With a scoff, you turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of your hand. “I don’t feel like talking to you, swordsman,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disdain as you refused to give him any more of your attention.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the boy, sensing the tension between you and Zoro, hesitated in his approach. His easy smile faltered, replaced by a nervous unease as he quickly retreated, eager to avoid becoming collateral damage in whatever confrontation was brewing between the two of you.

Smart boy. You’d do the same if you were in his place.

Sighing, you leaned against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention with a practiced gesture. The need for an actual drink abruptly urgent. “You didn’t have to chase him away like that,” you admonished, your tone thick with irritation. “He was a perfectly fine dance partner.” 

Silence answered you as you heard the subtle shift of cloth and clink of swords behind you as he matched your movements.

When the bartender inevitably ignored you too, suddenly engrossed in polishing a glass, you turned to face him. “What do you want?” you snapped, your expression a mask of defiance, resolute to not let him ruin your night.

His frown deepened, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm grip that bordered on possessive. “We’re going back to the ship,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You paused there for an instant, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. “No,” you decided as you wrenched your hand free from his grasp and strode purposefully towards the dance floor, determined to assert your independence in the face of his domineering shit of an attitude.

You sensed Zoro's presence trailing behind you for a moment, his looming shadow casting a palpable weight in the midst of his annoyance, then not anymore. Ignoring his silent disapproval, you surrendered to the pulsating rhythm of the music, allowing it to guide your movements to the center of the crowd with instinctive grace. Drawn into the embrace of a stranger, you yielded to the seductive sway of the tune, granting the man’s touch to travel sensually along the curves of your body.

With each spin and turn, the stranger's hands ventured boldly, taunting the fabric of your shirt upwards to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. He twirled you around, allowing your back to fall against his chest, as his fingers roamed in a slow, teasing display. 

On any other day, you would have slapped the inquisitive touch away but on this night the nerve of his exploration served the audacity of your actions. You met the swordsman’s stare with a lidded gaze. Was that fury you saw flashing in his eye? Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was that twisting up his pretty face, it felt like a victory. 

With a wicked grin, you yielded into the stranger's touch, inviting the tension to mount between you and the swordsman with each passing moment. You thrived on the satisfaction. The air hummed with unspoken defiance, a silent dare for Zoro to break his stoic façade.

The stranger's touch ventured further, his hand gliding from your stomach to your chest, his palm flat as he pressed against the fabric of your shirt before encircling your throat with a gentle yet possessive hold. Tilting your head back against his shoulder, you maintained eye contact with the swordsman, relishing the simmering intensity in his furious stare.

As the tension between you reached a crescendo, you observed with satisfaction as Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of one of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. The air crackled with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken challenge that hung between you like a tautly drawn bowstring.

With a subtle shift in your stance, you silently dared Zoro to make a move. The stranger's touch remained a seductive invitation, a quiet provocation that dared the swordsman to act on his impulses.

And then, the tension shattered like glass.

With a swift, fluid motion, Zoro's hand inched away from the hilt of his sword, his steps carrying him across the crowded floor in a determined stride. Ignoring the curious glances of the tavern's patrons, he closed the distance between you with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he reached you, he grabbed your arm firmly but not roughly, pulling you away from the stranger's embrace with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. The stranger's hand fell from your throat, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation as he watched the swordsman stake his claim.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted at him as you followed his lead.

Without a word, Zoro led you away from the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, his grip tightening as he guided you through the maze of tables and chairs. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his silent declaration hanging heavily between you.

As you emerged into the cool night air, the storm still raging overhead, the wind tousled your hair, rain slowly drenching your clothes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You shouted again, planting your feet down, obstinate anger filling you, refusing to budge.

Zoro’s expression remained flat; his jaw clenched in stubborn determination. “We’re going back to the ship,” he stated firmly.

You scoffed incredulously; the sound drowned out by the howling wind. “Like hell we are,” you retorted, your noncompliance unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you, swordsman.”

For a moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent standoff, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain of defiance. The tension crackled in the air, thick with unspoken words.

Fuck, he was stunning. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him. Your eyes surveyed his face, taking in the scowl on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.

He moved with swift determination, pinning you against the slick brick wall. The freezing rain seeped through your already soaked clothes, but you paid it no mind amidst the brewing confrontation.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” you snapped, glaring up at him, defiance flashing in your stare.

“You’re infuriating,” he growled, leaning in close, his breath mingling with yours in the damp air.

“I’m still angry,” you declared, your brows furrowing with stubborn resolve.

“So am I,” he admitted, his hand traveling up to cradle the nape of your neck.

“You have no business being angry at me, swordsman,” you retorted, your tone sharp with wrath.

Despite the intensity of the storm raging around you, the charged atmosphere between you and Zoro crackled with an energy of its own. His grip tightened slightly, fingers tangling in your hair, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“You always make it so damn difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation.

“Me?” you scoffed, index pushing repeatedly into his chest painfully. “You're the one wh—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, silencing your protest with a searing passion. At first, you froze, then you matched his intensity, finding yourself responding to his movements with an equal measure of neediness, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair roughly as you pulled him closer.

His fingers traveled under your shirt, his touch scorching hot against the coolness of wet skin. You backed off searching for breath. Your eyes met his, the hunger in his gaze made your knees want to buckle a definite want settling in your core.

Fuck.

With a firm push, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he yielded to your lead. As he took a step back, your hand found the hem of his sleeve, a determined look in your eyes as you started to move, dragging him through the winding maze of alleyways. Each turn was swift and decisive, your footsteps echoing against the forming puddles in the dips of the cobblestones as you navigated the labyrinthine paths with resolute haste, your destination clear in your mind.

Without a word, you pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hotel you’d been staying at, the warmth of the lobby enveloping you in a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside rain. The flickering glow of the lanterns cast dancing shadows upon the walls as you beelined to your room.

The swordsman hovered over you, placing soft kisses on your neck as you fumbled to unlock the door.

The lock clicked. You entered. In the sanctuary of your room, his hands grew bolder in their exploration, your shirt dragging dangerously high, the hem of your short skirt catching on your hips in a barely decent display.

“Shit,” you mewled, one of your hands finding purchase on the flat surface before you, nails digging in the wood as you tried to lock the door behind you. “Just let me lock the door,” you begged as he nipped at your neck, licked your ear.

He ignored your pleas, his body melting against yours, trapping you more firmly against him. His hand traveled against your thigh, traced the soft flesh near your core, his hips catching into yours. Your forehead met the wood of the door as the pads of his fingers found your soaked underwear, tracing light circles.

You moaned. Mind feeling empty as a wave of pleasure coursed through your veins.

He brought your hips tighter against his as his touch became rougher. He deftly pushed aside the drenched fabric, pads meeting your slick. Everything felt more intense all of a sudden, the embers of ecstasy unmuted as he explored relentlessly. 

His name passed your lips in a high whine. He moaned against your ear, hips unwillingly bucking into yours. Fuck. You could feel how hard he was.

The lock finally clicked. You turned around. His lips found yours immediately in a primal urgency. 

“The bed’s right there,” you mewled, your words breathy.

He kissed your jaw, down your neck. “Don’t care,” he said as one of his hands pushed up your shirt, your bra, fingers tracing the curve of your breast, pinching almost tenderly at your nipple.

“We should wash up first,” you protested meekly, your fists bunching in the wet fabric of his overcoat, movements contradicting your objections.

“Don’t care,” he repeated breath mingling with yours. He bit at your lower lip, tongue darting in, exploring, demanding. 

You obliged, hands discovering his chest, never settling in one place.

As you broke away for air, he leaned back, his hungry gaze meeting yours. He smirked, taking in the want in your eyes, your bruised lips, the flush on your cheeks. He backed off a step, eye roaming over your body, searing in the image before him in his mind, the way your skirt was hiked up, the way the wet fabric of your shirt clung to your skin as you leaned against the door.

“Fuck,” he groaned. You were the very picture of depravity.

He fell to his knees, pressed a kiss on the front of your underwear as his hands traced up along your outer thighs. As his fingers curled against the lace of your panties, he looked up at you, a soft pause as he searched your features for any hint of hesitation. 

The crystal-clear need etched on your face gave him all the confirmation he needed. He trailed the thin piece of fabric down. It caught for a moment on your knee-high boot as you lifted one leg to help him out. 

Before you could put your foot down, his hand wrapped under your knee, bringing your leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head on your inner thigh, cheek against soft flesh before placing slow kisses, tender bites as he made his way toward your heat.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling painfully on the unruly locks, nails digging into his scalp, backing him away. He looked up at you, a groan escaping him at the sensation. There was clear satisfaction in his gaze.

“Look at you, witch,” his voice was gruff, tick with lust. 

It sent a shiver down your spine, a moan out your lips. You felt some of your slick drip on your thigh, cool against flushed skin. Heat spread across your face at the reaction of your body.

“I’m still angry,” you whispered as he started moving closer, one of his hands exploring up and down your outer thigh, the other dragging your skirt higher, before dipping down, fingers tracing your slit.

His grin broke into a smile as he brought them to his mouth, the light glistening on their wetness. He made a show of licking them clean. Tongue swirling, sucking against the digits before his lips came back to your inner thigh.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” he apologized dangerously close to your core, his breath teasing, your legs feeling less and less steady as seconds passed. “Forgive me.”

You whined his name, a hopelessly needy sound. 

Finally, finally, he met your heat, giving you no time to adjust to the relentless rhythm of his onslaught. His tongue pressed against your clit as he devoured you with the hunger of a man deprived of water, each lick and suck a desperate quenching of his thirst.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, the world feeling like a hazy dream in between the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. Your fingers tightened in the unruly locks, nails digging into the flesh at his nape as your hips bucked unwittingly.

He moaned against you, the muffled sound sending electric shocks through you. His hold on your thigh increased, anchoring you solidly against his shoulder as his nails left crescent marks in the plush flesh. His other hand went to your core, lifting the hood of your clit slightly as he redoubled his efforts. 

Your eyes shot open at the sensation, breath catching in your throat. It was all too much, the pleasure cascading over your mind too sharp. One of your hands snapped away from his hair, clamping over your mouth, muffling the high-pitched scream that passed your lips. The back of your head hit the wood behind you loudly, the pain barely registering. 

Your gaze met his, you sensed the satisfied smirk gracing his lips more than you saw it. He moved away from your clit, exploring. His tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers taking on the bundle of nerves instead.

You were about to come, your vision starting to feel overexposed, everything swirling around you. You tried to warn him, your words incoherent.

He maintained his rhythm, allowing you to tip over the edge, white overflowing your senses.

He continued tirelessly, your thigh trembling against his shoulder. You attempted to pry him off, but he remained doggedly obstinate in his ministrations.

You bit down painfully on your palm as your mind wrestled to keep up with the overstimulation. Your breath hitched and struggled with every inhale and exhale. 

“Too much,” you begged, voice high, the sound muffled by your hand as a second orgasm coursed through you, tears threatening to flood your eyes.

He stopped then, waiting for your grip to loosen in his hair before coming back up. His chin was covered in your arousal. He pried your hand away from your mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the teeth marks etched in your skin before his lips found yours.

His movements were slow at first, allowing your mind to catch up. Then his tongue met yours in a forceful dance, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth.

Your knees buckled. Your fists bunched in his overcoat in an attempt to steady yourself but you still felt your back start to drag down against the door, your legs unable to keep you up.

His hands went behind your thighs, pulling you in his arms effortlessly. You melted in his chest, limbs uncooperative before he deposited you onto the bed.

As your back sank into the softness of the mattress, your eyes landed on the swordsman skillfully maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Shoes,” you muttered as your gaze went to your boots. 

He grumbled a curse under his breath, bringing your other leg to his shoulder so both feet were next to one another. “Always so fucking demanding,” he complained, words barely audible as with one hand he tugged at the laces of your boots, the other going to your cunt, two fingers entering your heat.

The squelching sound of your arousal as he fingered you was obscene. Lazy whimpers escaped you as they easily slipped in and out, the hazy feeling in your mind delightful. He suddenly curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, eliciting a loud moan out of you, the promise of rapture starting to edge at your vision once more.

“Zoro,” you begged between moans, his name flowing out of your lips again and again, a deprived chant.

He finished loosening the laces of the first boot, taking it off roughly and throwing it back without care. You dimly heard it hit something but it barely reached the edge of your mind, your attention entirely focused on the shifts of his fingers.

The pad of his thumb met your clit gently, teasing as he started unlacing the second boot.

You bucked under his touch, walls fluttering against his fingers. 

His hand moved against the laces with sudden urgency, tugging harder and faster with each pull as he hurried through the process. 

The second boot joined the other. You whined in protest as he left your heat. He opened your legs, settling himself between them.

You pushed yourself to your elbows, then sitting as you took off your shirt, your bra. Your bodies almost touched in the position, your legs draped over his thighs, warmth radiating from your skin, melting into his own.  

You leaned back slightly, his gaze unabashedly took in the sight. His fingers skillfully unknotted the cords holding the swords at his side. There was a loud clang as they fell to the floor forgotten, his overcoat and stomach band following suit with urgency. 

His hands grazed up your thighs, nails digging in and sending shivers to your core. He leaned in, his lips hovering ever so close over yours.

Your hand palmed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. You looked up at him, pupils blown in desire.

The moan that escaped him was pure lust, primal as his breath mixed with yours.

It stirred something in you. You ached to see him writhe under your touch, hear that moan again, make him whimper.

“Let me return the favor,” you demanded, fingers moving up and down, groping before inching towards the waistband of his pants.

His hand intercepted yours roughly. “Not today,” he kissed your jaw, down your throat. “Can’t wait,” he muttered after giving your nipple a flick with his tongue.

He pushed you down, your back meeting the mattress in a small bounce. You rolled your hips against his, your arousal leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. You felt his canine graze your breast as he relished the feeling, followed by a soft bite and his tongue as he sucked and marked.

“Then just fuck me already, swordsman,” you demanded. 

He smirked against your skin. “So needy,” he remarked, pulling back, his hands departing from you as he undid his pants, his aching cock meeting your stomach.

He moved one of your legs expertly to his shoulder, fingers finding the scar near your ankle, tenderly tracing circles against it. Your other leg instinctively wrapped around his hip.

His gaze was filled with lust as he met yours. You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance. His lips went to the white line marking your skin in a soft kiss as he started sinking into you.

You whimpered as he dragged in further, the pace tortuously slow. Your fingers tangled in the sheets in ecstasy. The stretch was overwhelming, intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, biting down on the flesh above your ankle, leaving small red marks behind. “So fucking tight.”

You tried to roll your hips, take him in quicker but his hand stopped the movement, stilling you in a bruising hold.

By the time he was fully sheathed inside you, you were breathing hard, your walls already fluttering against him. He gave a tentative thrust, nails digging into the plushness of your hips before he dragged a hand to your lower stomach, increasing the pressure as he filled you oh so well.

He was so deep, it almost made your eyes roll. You could feel your breasts bounce with every slow thrust. For a moment you saw him admire the view but his gaze inevitably returned to your face as he relished each twitch of pleasure passing your features far more than anything else. 

There was a furrow on his brow as he searched for something, his hand moving your leg, opening you up, trying to find a certain angle. You let out a sharp cry as a particular thrust made you see stars.

“Zoro,” you whined, one of your hands extending towards him, “fuck,” he was just out of reach, you wanted to touch him so bad. You let your hand fall, instead joining his for an instant on your stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He slid out to the tip and slammed back in, his pace increasing now that he had found what he was searching for.

Your hand fell back to the covers at the intensity of his movements, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. His palm roamed up from your stomach, roughly groping as he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, his breath mingling with yours suddenly. His fingers settled on your neck, then your jaw as he bit your lower lip, and kissed you hard. 

As he pulled back, his gaze blown with lust followed the strand of saliva connecting the two of you. “How long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he passed his thumb harshly on your reddened lips. “Just so you know, I’m only starting, witch.”

A smirk danced on your features at the boldness of his words, a chuckle escaping you, as though he wasn’t already fucking you senseless. You rolled your hips, meeting his rhythm. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, swordsman,” you retorted, the defiance in your stare igniting a spark in his eye, a challenge he was willing to see through.

In answer, his hand left your face, settled itself between your bodies, finding your clit in soft circles. Your back arched in pleasure, your hands flying to his arms, fingers looking for purchase. Incoherent swears passed your lips, your nails dug in, dragged along his arms. The pain mixing in with the pleasure earning you a loud groan on his part.  

You dimly caught the sound of the bed creak with each of his thrusts, the way the headboard slammed on the wall now and then, but you didn’t care, the ecstasy washing over you making you forget all sense of propriety.

Your words were incomprehensible as he brought you nearer and nearer to the edge. Closer to desperate pleas and wanton moans than coherent sentences. Your whole body tensed hard as you orgasmed, a soft flush spread across your chest. 

You heard him swear under his breath as your walls clenched around him but he didn’t stop as your mind struggled to come back. He suddenly turned you over, his thighs trapping yours. His hands found your hips, holding them up bruisingly. The moan you let out as he slid inside you again was so depraved that he almost came right there.

Your face dug in the covers, drool seeping in the fabric, nails digging hard in the soft weave. You heard threads snap as you writhed. He felt so deep. Your toes curled in pleasure. It was all too much, you were already so damned over sensitive.

“Shit, so good for me,” his hands palmed your ass roughly, velvety skin yielding under calloused fingers. His touch was domineering as it traveled along the curve of your back, pushing up your skirt, still bunched around your waist.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades, inch toward your neck, fingers tangling harshly in your locks for a fleeting moment. Then he grasped your arm, pulling you up easily, his arm snaking around you, his palm flat against your sweat covered skin as his hand moved up encircling your throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. Your hands instinctively settled on his forearm for support as you struggled to keep up.  

The sound of wet slapping skin, the squelch as he drilled into you intensified in the position. His hand traveled up almost tenderly, cupping your face, turning you to him. His lips captured yours lazily, one of your hands shifted away from his arm, navigating to his nape, fingers tangling in his unruly hair.

The hand on your hip roamed down, fingers finding your clit. You spasmed and begged at the blitz of sensations. Thighs trembling, there was nothing you could do but hang on for dear life, your nails digging painfully in his forearm, in his neck as his pace fastened.

Your name passed his lips. “One more for me,” he pleaded, hot breath mixing with yours before biting hard on your shoulder. 

“Please, Zoro, fuck,” you sobbed in pleasure as you felt your orgasm rapidly build up.

His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken by your pleas. “Where do you want me to cum?” the urgency in his voice was apparent as he breathed out the question.

“In-inside,” you begged over and over.

He groaned at that, the idea clearly pleasing to him. “Shit,” his thrusts were sloppy, his hold on your body harder. “So fucking perfect for me.”

With a particularly hard flick on your clit, your mind went blank, body hard then limp, entirely supported by the swordsman’s strength as rapture filled you.

He kissed and marked you almost painfully as you came down from your high, walls spasming sporadically around him. He swore emphatically, your name uttered between each curse, before emptying out inside you, his loud moans muffled against your skin.

His movements gradually slowed. He placed a fond kiss on your shoulder, and you whimpered as he pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your thigh. He lowered you gently on the bed, following you as he dropped himself next to you.

Lying there in the aftermath, a sense of weightlessness enveloped you, leaving your mind blissfully devoid of thought. His arm rested heavily on your stomach, the sensation of damp skin against damp skin a tactile reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. Gradually, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With a tenderness that caught you off guard, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before trailing along your jawline. You watched him, a puzzled furrow creasing your brow, as he rose from the bed with a quiet grunt, pulling up his pants, still pooled around his ankles, before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"You said we should wash up," he grumbled in response, the sound of running water punctuating his words.

An amused snort escaped you. "Now? Really, Zoro?" You attempted to roll over, but your muscles felt weak, and you slumped back down in defeat.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his features as he observed your futile attempt. 

"Having some trouble?" he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he stalked to your side, the bed dipping under his weight as he settled himself between your legs. If you weren't so fucked out, the smugness in his tone might have elicited an eye roll, but instead, a small chuckle escaped your lips at his comment.

One of his hands went behind your knee, opening you up for him. The other went to your slit, a sharp hiss escaping your lips at the over sensitivity. His fingers traced the seed dripping out of you.

He swore under his breath, his gaze blown out as he met your eyes. 

“Don’t you dare,” you breathed out in a high-pitched whine, your hips arching away. “I’m too sensitive.”

His hand left your heat, slick fingers dragging up your thighs, bunching in the skirt still gathered at your waist.

He hummed in consideration, evidently wrestling with himself. "How do you take this off?" he asked, hovering uncertainly over the fabric of the waistband.

The smile that hit your lips was genuine as you looked at him. "The zipper's on the side, you moron," you replied, pointing lazily to the concealed closure.

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on your lips as his fingers grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down. His touch lingered on your skin, the kiss deepening. His name escaped you in a soft warning, prompting him to pull back, his lips parting from yours as he guided the fabric off, gently lifting your hips.

Gathering you into his arms, he held you close. "What's with all the tenderness, swordsman?" you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his neck. "I thought you only knew direct approaches."

"Careful, witch," he said, his tone somehow serious as he teased, his hands squeezing plush flesh as he buried his face in your hair. "If you keep this up, I'm bringing you back to bed."

Before you could offer a witty response, he gracefully lowered you into the welcoming embrace of the bathwater. Instantly, warmth enveloped you, coaxing the tension from your weary muscles. With a contented sigh, you reclined against the edge of the tub, allowing the soothing heat to work its magic.

As you relaxed, your gaze drifted to Zoro, who was now bending down to unlace his boots. The soft glow of the bathroom accentuated the contours of his muscular arms, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his skin. You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your features as you looked at the red marks plaguing his chest, his biceps. In that moment, he was nothing short of stunning, having you trapped and entranced as he undid his pants, kicked them off along with his boots. 

“Scoot,” he demanded with a cock of his head, his earrings glinting in the movement.

You raised a brow at his tone but still you obliged, shifting over. The water rose around you as Zoro settled in behind you, his presence adding to the comforting embrace of the bath.

As he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, you didn’t resist as you backed into his hold, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that surrounded you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby, calming your mind for a flicker of an instant.

For a while, you simply reveled in the blissful stillness of the moment, the only sound the soft murmur of the water as his hand traced up and down your arm in a mindless pattern and the quiet exhales of contentment that escaped you. 

“About Yokubari,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, laden with uncertainty.

You felt him tense behind you, his fingers coming to a halt. His lips brushed against the skin near your ear, a delicate, repentant gesture. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, his apology scarcely audible over the pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop.

You paused, grappling with the words on the tip of your tongue. “I won't deny that I'm still furious with you, Zoro,” you confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “But it wasn’t all you. I was tired and scared, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have left you alone with Yokubari like that, it was irresponsible on my part.”

There was a beat of silence, his lips trailing down your neck, over your shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left moments ago. His arms slid from the bath’s edge, sinking into the water and wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice grumbly and muffled against your skin. “You were right, I lost myself for an instant.”

You weren’t certain what it was you wanted to say, so you stayed quiet for a while. “Did you at least figure it out?” You asked eventually. 

One of his hands traveled up from your stomach tracing the curve of your breast, playing with your nipple absentmindedly. The other went to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh, his thumb moving in light circles. You felt his teeth sink in your neck.

“I figured out what I needed to,” he muttered halfheartedly as he kissed the bite mark tenderly.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. You let your head fall on his chest as you looked up at him. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” You pressed, your voice tinged with apprehension.

Zoro's grip tightened around you, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I meant... I learned enough to control it, to keep it from consuming me," he explained, his tone imbued with a mixture of reluctance and determination. "But whether I've completely figured it out... I haven’t." He paused, his gaze searching yours before he continued. "I tried figuring it out on the day you left but I haven’t touched it since. It felt wrong to handle it without you there. I gave you my word. I should have kept it better."

His hand traveled up, wrapping around your throat for a moment before turning your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re an idiot, swordsman,” your breath mingled with his.

His lips curved into a wry smile against yours, his grip gentle yet possessive as he deepened the kiss, seeking solace and reassurance in the warmth of your embrace. You sank into him, the tension of the past few days melting away with each caress, each shared breath.

“I am,” he admitted. His touch left your face, going back to your breast with more purpose, his hand inched towards your heat once again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“And you’re insatiable,” you complained in a whine, one of your hands flying to the bath’s edge to find purchase, the other settled on his leg at your side, nails digging hard.

His fingers met your core, opened you up, “I know,” he said with satisfaction dripping in his tone at the reaction of your body.

Bonus scene:

Roronoa Zoro found himself facing the consequences of his actions. The realization dawned on him that he had indeed messed up…bad. He hadn’t anticipated you staying away for so long—a thought that seemed absurd now as he reflected on it. With closed eyes, he furrowed his brow, attempting to will himself to sleep, though slumber had eluded him ever since you departed. His jaw clenched, the memory of the hurt in your eyes flickered behind his eyelids, haunting him relentlessly.

The abrupt slam of the door shattered the fragile peace of his solitude, and he fought the instinct to flinch, hoping to be left alone a moment more.

“Good, you’re awake,” Nami stated, her perceptive gaze cutting through his feigned slumber. “Follow me.”

He reluctantly cracked an eye open, a scowl of irritation etching his features. “I’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled, but the determined look in Nami’s stare made him concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

“Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly rising to his feet.

His footsteps stopped in front of the establishment, the realization of what Nami was trying to achieve downing on him. Had he known that the navigator was going to drag him all the way to you, he would have undoubtedly put up more of a fight. He tried to turn away but her hand grabbed him hard, pulling him with her. 

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up,” Nami urged, shoving him through the doorway of the bar. “I don’t know what you did, but apologize.”

With a pat on the back, she left him standing there, her words echoing in his mind.

He sighed, shifting uncertainly in the entryway, his gaze surveying the small, cozy space. Inevitably, he spotted you, leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation with someone he couldn’t quite see, a soft smile gracing your lips.

If he were honest, he had had every intention of apologizing in that moment. However, as he watched the young man lean closer to you, an unfamiliar pang of jealousy stirred within him. Rationality reminded him that you didn’t belong to him; you were your own person. Yet, as he witnessed the intimacy of the gesture, heard the clear din of your laughter ring through the chatter of the room, his frustration boiled dangerously. The countless apologies he had rehearsed over the past few days evaporated from his mind as he stormed to your side.

You had willfully ignored him from the moment you noticed his presence, your fury towards him still evident in the fire of your eyes. He sensed his own annoyance doubling at his inability to know how to handle the situation.

Yet, as your angry gaze had met his, he felt a rush of emotions flood over him—a mixture of longing and regret.

Damn it.

In the soft glow of the lanterns, you looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wanted nothing more than to pin you to that bar and kiss you dizzy. You snapped something at him, but he couldn't quite register the words amidst the whirlwind of unknown reactions coursing through him.

Before you could escape him again, he grasped your hand. A possessive hold that was unlike him.

“We’re going back to the ship,” He said, his voice feeling far away, as though it was someone else’s. Hell, even he realized how ridiculous he sounded when the words left his lips.

Fuck.

He didn’t even know how to get back to the ship. 

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Masterlist

[phasecornnuts]

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

[pines4thetwin]

When you mentioned fused stancest I literally could not stop thinking about how they would act if they couldn’t infuse for a while everyone’s reaction to how they function as one person. I would love to hear more of you take on it.

I have so many!! This ended up longer then i expected (Sorry if this isnt what you meant)

So I actually wanted to write something like this concept but the angst is like a parasite and it takes over everything

I think if they got stuck as a Fordley (thats what im calling the fusion) the reactions would go like this:

Mabel is squealing and thinks its so cool and definitely asks to ride on their shoulders. Shes having the time of her life (and even asks if she can try the fusion machine too.) Two grunkles for the price of one and all that but now they are one cooler taller Grunkle.

Dipper hates it. He constantly gets jumpscared. He'll go down to get water and Fordley is creeping around in the middle of the night to get snacks before slinking back down to the lab and dippers like cluching his chest and shaking and sweaty and he really just wants them unfuse already.

Stan would be upset cause why would ford even build something like this. And then he fucked up and now theyre stuck this way. But also he's secretly pleased with the fact that the intensity of his feelings for stan drove Ford to literally create a way for them to be one.

Ford is only too pleased because this is what he wanted. Now he's only thinking that they get to do all the things they love together just like they always said they would do as kids. They'll watch stans shows and do science stuff and he's pleasently surprised with how their minds blend together so well. Even if stan pretends he doesnt enjoy the explorations they go on Ford can feel that he does.

They still work on a way to fix the machine so they can get unfused but only cause stans still a bit pissed at not having a choice in the matter but Ford fully intends to convince him that being one is how they are supposed to be.

Wendy would be like wtf then rapidly compartmentalize and just nod and be like "this is my life now."

Soos looses his mind and fanboys so hard and writes all types of fusion fics and has tea with them to ask how it feels to make his fics as canon as possible. He will also au the hell outta Fordley.

They definitely become an urban legend cause some townie or tourists saw them slinking around in the woods "Seven foot tall, four eyed creature spotted in the woods of gravity falls. Hairless cousin of bigfoot??" And all of the photos are super blurry and you got some people saying it has four arms and debating if it eats humans or only family sized bags of toffee peanuts?

As for specifically with the angsty one i wrote

Ford refuses to let them find a way to fix it cause he doesnt see them being stuck as a problem

Stan is (rightfully) upset and refuses to engage with Ford. Ford eventally coaxes stan to hear him out and they slowly work through their issues cause really what else can they do when their literally stuck together. And then maybe stan realizes that being them isnt so bad and he begrudgingly respects fords audacity (and insanity) to make what he wanted a reality.

And when they do (mostly stan) finally accept the situation, they allow themself to truly start to think of themself as one and i think even the deformites of their unstable fusion would start to shift into a more stable form.

Mabel is lowkey scared of them because of what happened in the lab but she slowly warms up to Fordley. But its only after her grunkles stop fighting. (dont ask how you can fight when you share one body because they do it and they do it easily and she can tell)

Dipper is confused cause no one actually sat him down to fully explain what happened and he's working on context clues only. He's too scared to ask Fordley and anytime he asks mabel she just goes wide eyed and pale. And then one day everything is cool. Like Fordley is still there but he's happier and engaging with the nibs and mabel isnt scared of them anymore and dippers even more confused because nobody has clued him in????

Maybe i should just turn these into fics atp?

[jonnnysuh]

Dating S Coups would include

A/N: HIIII Happy new year !!! Long time no see. I wanted to write one of these for so long but it just wasn’t working out…. And then my brain came up with this out of no where. I’m not sure how well this is gonna do bc it’s been a while ((also no one has ever requested s coups??? So I’m really doing this for no reason LMAO)) I’m ngl i kinda popped off on this one. also fun lil treat at the end <3

Series Masterlist

Crushing stages:

This is a friends to lovers type of man!!! I cannot stress this enough

You meet each other when you’re kids and one day he looks at you and it just clicks

At first you refuse to believe there’s something between you two bc you’ve known him for so long

But there’s something about the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, how he always makes sure to be on the “dangerous” side of the sidewalk for you, how he is the one thing in your life that feels stable and warm and right

One day he’s like “fuck it” and goes for it bc there is no feeling in the world as definite as his love for you

Dating:

Bc you’ve been friends for actual eternity he knows you so well

It goes beyond just remembering all the foods you do and don’t like (which he does know) … HE CAN TELL WHEN YOU’RE LYING

Also bc of this, he’s the first person you go to for advice

You know he’ll be honest and fair and help you come up with the right decision bc he just… knows you

Sends u drunk texts bc he cannot stop thinking about u ever

100000% compared hands with you when you were just friends LMAO AND STARTED INTERLOCKING FINGERSJSJDKSK

He does not get tired of listening to the story of when you realized you had feelings for him

Will do things for you even if he’s tired out of his mind as long as it makes u happy

If u needed a glass of water in the middle of the night there is no question about,, he’s getting up from bed to make sure you have it

“Text me when u get home” 🫡

Brings up embarrassing childhood stories about you

But don’t worry you also got some dirt on him so he won’t be hehe-ing for too long

NOOO I FEEL LIKE HE’D ENJOY MAKING LEGO FLOWERS WITH YOU (or any sort of thing where you guys can sit in comfortable silence,, as long as you’re together type thing)

IT’S A YEARLY TRADITION

Is not afraid to tell you his opinion

And won’t always agree with u

Sometimes he wont say it tho, you can just tell by his face…. But also guess what Cheol ur not the boss 🤬🤬🤬

Loves late night drives !!! Eeeee imagine listening to music in the car with him and singing your lil hearts out

One hand on the wheel one hand on you

Having a Spotify blend of ur guys’ favourite songs 😭😭 and they’re always in rotation 😭😭😭 Imma cry rn

He said “I love you” first. Tbh he always knew he was going to be the one bc he can’t help it, it’s so easy with you

Cuddles after a long day

“C’mere” in his tired voice FJOSFIOWJXJKWNS!!!

Spoonfeeds you bites of his meals

Your parents really really like him ((he’s so charming I fear there was no choice))

Sends u cute lil update pics

YOU GOT THIS FULL GROWN MAN SENDING YOU KISSY FACES

Nah he for sure has an album in his phone called “us <3” or some shit with just pics of YOU GUYS AHHHHHH

For some reason I feel like he’d like the sound of his SO’s voice

Is your voice of reason when u wanna make a dumb decision … but will that stop u from being dumb sometimes??? I think not

Lowkey…. Blows u kisses…. No one else is allowed to see tho ok shh

Your whole house smells like him after he visits bc his cologne is STRONG

Often times when you’re cuddling in bed he’ll be looking over your shoulder so u guys watch TikToks/videos together

Soooooo supportive! He’s so proud of you!!

Competitive asshole

It can be the most mundane thing ever but he has to win or even just tease you about it

Voluntarily gives you his sweaters and shirts

Lifts you up a bit when you guys hug

Long-term bets ((just cause y’all know you’ll be together for a longgggg time))

Calling each other by your childhood nicknames

He gets excited when you guys talk about the future he literally cannot wait to spend his entire life with you

Taps on his cheek for a kiss jfodjdjkdnd

Plays with your hair so gently that it causes you to fall asleep

“How are you, my baby?”

HE HAS TO ADD “MY” BC YOU ARE HIS BABY

Protective. If he thinks someone’s gonna mess with you he’ll step in at the exact right time

Lowkey gets jealous,, he needs that reassurance sometimes

NAHHHH imagine saying “make me” to this man …. That’s all I’m gonna say

Bites u (lovingly)

Loves going grocery shopping with you and taking an extra long time in the snack aisle

Has the urge to sing cheesy love songs around you bc you make him feel like those songs!!!

If you do something cute he’ll blush

Messing with him is so much fun bc theres literally endless ways to go about it

You have the privilege to push his buttons

Either one of you bringing up childish shit like “REMEMBER WHEN WE PLAYED FREEZE TAG AND YOU DIDNT UNFREEZE ME??”

If you start showing him things on FaceTime he’ll give you his full attention like he’s in the room with you

Gets pouty when he wants a kiss and you’re not giving it to him

NAH if you get sulky coups it’s over with you’ve already lost … the man is getting what he wants

play wrestles with u

The way he looks at you there is honestly no denying that he is so in love with you

The one person in the world who knows everything about you

Loves a good deep talk but fair warning: he will get emotional about it

All I’m saying is s coups is a certified lover boy methinks

BONUS:

[kiwiana-writes]

alright MJ, au game for you. Alex, a talented yet perpetually burned out lawyer, takes up an opportunity to do a secondment at a client's London office. after moving halfway across the world, he is irritated to discover that the apartment his work has leased him has very thin walls, a hot water system which will only allow one apartment to have a shower at a time and a strict no-pets policy that his neighbour is clearly violating. a mutual emnity to friendship to flirtation occurs through passive aggressive notes written and passed between neighbours (via being shoved under the door and/or stuck to it).

Good lord, Lola, this is a whole fucking fic. You writing the rest of the 10k when???

ONE: Perhaps unsurprisingly, Alex is the one to start the notes. What's more surprising is that there is a brief period where he actually feels bad -- he gets back into his apartment, realises that he's taking his shitty day out on someone who had the misfortune to be the proverbial straw to Alex's camel, and he actually goes to retrieve the note... but by then it's gone, and, well.

TWO: There's a point about a dozen notes in where Alex realises this is the only real interaction he's getting outside of work in London. It's so profoundly depressing it takes him a full twenty-four hours to respond to Henry's next note; he only does so when a second one arrives, asking with an equal blend of snark and curiosity whether he's still alive or whether Henry should expect the scent of decomposition to start wafting through the walls.

THREE: Alex is working from home one day when he realises he can hear crying. And, like, he's not a complete dick, okay? He can put together a supportive note and slide it under the door.

FOUR: They will never, ever agree who sends it from friendly to flirty. Henry maintains that Alex calling him 'sweetheart' on one of the notes is what does it. Alex will point out that Henry gave him a note castigating him for getting in his shower while Henry was still in the middle of his own thorough shower, and Henry had to know what he was doing with that choice of phrasing.

FIVE: It takes them about half an hour after meeting to realise the shower problem can be solved quite effectively by simply sharing a shower.

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.]

[xoxoavenger]

How You Get The Girl

pairing: Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader

summary: Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

word count: 1752

warnings: none

1989 masterlist main masterlist

"Are you insane?" She asks, blinking at him. He's shaking, freezing from having run to her house in the rain. But this couldn't wait. He risked getting grounded forever for sneaking out just to see her.

Y/N cannot believe Pope Hayward is at her door.

"Can I come in?" He asks. Besides the fact that it's freezing, he also knows he needs to talk to her before the police release the actual story of where he was, or even before the town gets word of the Pouges being back. He knows it'll be worse if she finds out he's back before he can see her.

"Where the fuck did you go?" She yells. Instead of letting him in, she walks out and pushes him. He stumbles back a few steps, and she follows. She's starting to get wet from the rain, but by the look on her face he guesses she can't tell. They're standing so close; every nerve in his body can feel her proximity.

"I didn't mean to leave, I swear, especially after everything that happened," He tells her quickly, but she's already talking over him.

"Everything that happened? Really? You mean how you finally asked me to be your girlfriend after months of dates and cuddles and kisses and me waiting for you to make a move, just to fuck off to God knows where without telling me?" She's rightfully pissed, and now they're both getting soaked from the rain that will not let up. There must be a hurricane incoming.

"I know, I should have said something before I left, but I didn't think I'd be gone that long. But we got stuck on an island, and then kidnapped, and I swear I would have been here earlier except my parents are freaking out and didn't want me to leave." She's shocked into silence as he talks, because she had never thought that Pope was actually stuck on an island while he was gone. "But I wanted to tell you that I'm back. Before word gets around." They're silent for a moment, both staring at each other and blinking the rain away.

"What the fuck?" She finally says, and before Pope could defend himself any further she walks forward and hugs him tightly. He's confused, because a second ago he was sure she was going to slap him, but he wraps his arms around her and takes it in.

"I missed you." He whispers, pulling her as close as he can. Their bodies are wet and they're both colder than shit, but it feels too good to be with each other.

"I missed you too." She says, pulling back. She's glad for the water running down her face, making the tears blend in. "But I can't be with you."

Her words break Pope's heart.

He watches wordlessly as she walks away, back into her house without looking over her shoulder.

~

"What are you doing here?" She asks as she opens the door to Pope only a day later. It's not raining today, just gloomy and humid. It made his hair more frizzy than usual, sticking out widely.

Pope is glued to the spot, only able to blink at her.

"Hello? Pope, are you okay?" She asks, waving a hand in front of his face. He shakes his head before focusing.

"I'm not just giving up on us." He blurts out, causing Y/N's eyes to widen.

"I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday that I couldn't do that again." She frowns, because it hurts her too. She doesn't want to end things with him, but she doesn't have much of a choice. He doesn't know what she had to go through, how worried her friends were when she stayed home from everything, even school for a couple days. She had been so worried about Pope, until someone brought to her attention that they probably ran away.

And it broke her heart.

"I also wanted to bring you this picture. I framed it." He passes a picture of them at the beach, one Y/N took on the day he had officially asked her to be his girlfriend. She had taken it from a high angle, Pope's arms around her waist visible, his lips pressed to her cheek. She had her hand holding his chin, her face frozen between a smile and a laugh.

It was the picture she had cried over, the one stuck on her phone while it was pressed to her chest. It was the first one she deleted when she had the thought that he had to of run away. And here it was, in Pope's hands, framed.

She didn't know what to say.

"I just, I wanted to explain myself." He tells her, and she finally looks up at him.

"I thought you did that yesterday." Her heart is racing. She wants it to stop, wants him to stop, because she can't take this anymore.

"I did, but I wanted to give you the full story." She turns to let him into her house, trying to take a deep breath when his arm brushes past her.

"This doesn't mean that we're getting back together." She says as she shuts the door, not looking at him. In the back of her mind, she can feel the doubt, but she can't bring herself to question it too hard. She doesn't want to know what it means if she doesn't fully believe herself, the same way she doesn't want to think about what it would mean for her and Pope if she kept her word.

"That's okay." He says, and her heart flies a little higher because he sounds like he's actually okay with it, despite saying that he wasn't going to give up on them. Maybe, for him, the two aren't mutually exclusive.

~

After a couple weeks of Pope coming over, Y/N knows she's losing the battle with herself.

Pope hasn't even confessed to anything. He hasn't said anything about them being together since he came over with the picture, hasn't asked her how she would feel about the two of them getting back together. They've simply just been themselves, a pair of feelings that stay in the dark. It all comes to a head when Pope spends the night accidentally and she wakes up in his arms, head on his chest and feeling the most relaxed she's felt since the day on the beach when they fell asleep in the sun, warm and at peace.

She can't take it, the feeling she knows all too well that makes her heart race. She rolls over and pretends that it didn't happen, hoping that Pope isn't awake. He doesn't even have the decency to pretend like he was asleep when she leaves his arms, instead sitting up on an elbow. It's quiet as she ignores him, eyes squeezed shut in a silent prayer that he'll think she rolled over in her sleep.

"I can't do this." He says it softly, as if by not yelling it the words won't break her heart. It's enough to get her to turn back and look at him.

"What are you talking about?" She asks, her voice in an equal whisper. She knows what he's saying, but can't bring herself to let him go.

"You told me you didn't want to be with me, and I respect that. But I can't do this; I can't hold you in my arms and then watch you turn away. I know you're afraid of getting hurt again, and I know you don't have any reason to trust me, but I promise I will never leave again. I would never put you through that again." He sounds so sincere, she can't even begin to think about how much it took him to get the words out.

He knows about what she went though when he left. During a late night, she had confessed how much she had struggled, how much she had hurt when she learned he was missing. He apologized endlessly, and she knew by the look on his face she had broken his heart.

"Pope," She doesn't know what to say, which is fine because she's pretty sure she would cry if she did try to get anything out.

"I want you, Y/N. And not just in a friend way. I want to be the one you fall asleep with at night, the one you wake up to. I want to put your heart back together and hold it so tight that no one will ever be able to break it again." He can see her face, see the hesitancy, so he continues before she can cut him off. "I'll wait. If you don't want to jump into anything, I'll wait. I'll be here as long as it takes. But if you give me the word, if you could just tell me that you want me too, or will want me in the future," He doesn't know how to read her now, and he's worried he's gone too far.

It scares her, what he's saying. It scares her to fall for him again, to somehow fall even deeper this time. She doesn't know if her heart is capable of it, doesn't know how she can trust him.

But then she thinks back to the beach day, thinks back to the feeling of being in the clouds when he had finally asked her to be his. She thinks back to him recounting his days on the island, how he told her that he had thought of her so often the Pouges banned him from saying her name. How hard it was to fall asleep, how he would pretend he was with her just to get through the night. And sure, she could reject these words. She could say she doesn't care, that she thinks he's lying. But she knows he's not. She knows he's telling the truth. And she does care. She cares about him so much it hurts.

"Okay," It's so quiet that she thinks Pope may have missed it, but the way his eyes widen makes her smile so big she's sure her jaw will be sore. "I want you too, Pope." The words aren't even out of her mouth before he's tackling her, squishing her against the bed as their laughs create a perfect harmony in the air.

And then he's kissing her, and she wonders why she had ever doubted him in the first place when he kisses her like she's the only thing in the whole world that matters. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[nearestend]

what is your all time favorite soup to make? i will accept two answers. favorite being the easiest and quickest tasty soup you can through together, or favorite being one that's a bit more involved. i love a good soup

MUNDAY : ASK DILLY ABOUT SPECIAL INTERESTS.

for quick and easy, there's a few options. open up your preferred food delivery app, find the closest vietnamese restaurant, and order the pho of your choice. that's my go-to.

but if you're insisting on doing some actual cooking, you can make my other go-to. it does not have a name, but we'll just call it refrigerator soup. it's not really quick exactly, but it is simple enough where you can throw it together and walk away for a good amount of time. here's how we do that:

there's no fixed ingredient list here, but it usually consists of whatever vegetables are in my kitchen and are no longer pretty and fresh enough to eat in anything else. it almost always consists of carrots, celery, onions, tomatoes, and sometimes potatoes. maybe garlic too because i like garlic in everything, but it's optional. now, throw everything in a roasting pan with some oil (olive or avocado oil is nice, but i've been using canola lately because it's what i currently have), some salt and pepper, and optionally, whatever spices you have. i almost always have cumin or paprika on hand. roast them for about an hour or until they're fork tender and fragrant. once they're done, throw them in a giant pot with water or stock (amount will depend entirely on how you like the consistency and you can add more lately if need; for now, just do at least enough to cover your veggies). this is when i like to add herbs if i have any, and i usually do, so i'll put a few bay leaves and some rosemary or thyme. boil away for however long you want. i'll do at least 30 minutes to an hour, but it honestly does not matter a whole lot. you can boil the fuck out of this soup and it will be totally fine. once you're either satisfied or impatient with it, remove your herbs, turn the heat off and get a blender. i have an immersion blender, which is helpful, but you can totally do this with a regular standing blender (it's just a bit more tedious). now you blend the fuck out of the vegetables until it's nice and smooth. add a little extra olive oil on top when you serve, and there's your refrigerator soup. not quick, but very good for a lazy person who doesn't like to measure things (me).

now for a more involved soup, i'm gonna go with bone broth. it's very involved in the sense that you can literally cook this for over 24 hours, and really you should if you want it to be impeccable. i do not have that kind of patience so i rarely make it, but here's a good guide on how to if you're interested. if i do make this, it's usually with chicken bones because i always have chicken bones in my freezer. (i throw them in there every time i debone chicken because they are useful for various things and i hate wasting!) but you can also use any kind you want really. chicken feet may sound weird but they are extremely good to use for soup because they have a lot of collagen and you can get them at a fairly decent price compared to other cuts at most butcher shops. apple cider vinegar is also an important addition to help break down all the collagen, but i assume any vinegar will work for this. try not to add too much otherwise it will affect the flavour. i think most people make this for health benefits, but i am someone who does not care about that and am making it purely for enjoyment. you can eat this plain or use it as a base for so many things. it makes a beautiful base for ramen, french onion, or chicken noodle soup! and you can also store it in the freezer for future use anytime.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s notes: hello, and thank you so much for all your reblogs, likes and comments. I absolutely adore reading all your reviews. Thank you for taking a minute to comment. It motivates me to write and have a better understanding of how you see the characters and story development. Please know the tag lists are still open! Let me know if you would like to be added!

XI.

Suguru woke up around 6am. He figured you would be already out for your morning run and coming back soon for a shower and breakfast.

After making his bed and taking a shower himself, Suguru put on a pair of grey sweat pants and a black fitted t-shirt. His sleeve of tattoos partially exposed, his right arm covered in carefully designed Chinese, Japanese symbols, Nordic runes and dragons. Aside from the pleasant although chaotic aesthetic, the art work etched on his skin served as a form of seal or an amulet. Something to keep the darkness within in check.

He decided something simple was in order, knowing you, there wasn’t much that he could get away with making and expecting you to eat with your rigorous diet requirements. Scrambled egg whites with some parsley, cherry tomatoes, salt and pepper. For a drink he prepared a blend of that green juice you liked: with green apples, pineapple and celery.

The raven haired sorcerer set everything on the table and looked at his phone. I was 6:45am. You were already late. You usually were back home by 6:30am. Maybe you went out later and decided to extend your run. It was your free day after all.

Although… you usually made sure Suguru knew so he wouldn’t worry.

Grabbing his phone he texted you

***From: Sugu

To: Kitten 🐱

Breakfast is ready!***

Immediately he heard your phone go off in your room. Now, that was weird. You always took your phone with you to listen to music while working out. Did you perhaps sleep in?

Knocking at your door Suguru called “hey doll face! Are you awake?” No answer came back from the inside. He could not hear the shower running either. “Hey! I’m coming in” he announced but when he opened the door he found your room empty, your bed was still made and cold. Your phone on the night stand along with your apartment keys.

Fear coursed through his veins when he tried to check for your energy trail and found it long gone. You have been gone since last night.

“Fuck!” One didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had something to do with your disappearance.

Putting on his shoes he ran out the door. He had to find you before something bad happened. Gojo had not been in a good state of mind back in Japan, he didn’t even want to imagine what was going on in his head now that he had you so close. So stupid! Suguru should have kept a close eye on you instead of trusting that just because you were in the same apartment you would be safe from Satoru.

-

Your mouth was dry, your body overheated and sore. The sun hitting your face made you groan softly, you tried to turn around and continue sleeping but you couldn’t. Your body was trapped by heavy and strong limbs wrapped around you.

One pale and strong arm around your waist, the other supporting your head. Legs intertwined with Satoru’s. The platinum haired man laid behind you spooning you. He had you on a death grip.

Panic.

Last night came rushing altogether, with the frenzied memories of the passionate sexual encounter you and Satoru shared. And of course that had not been it, in the middle of the night he woke you up with tender kisses on your thighs and his head between your legs, setting aflame your senses over and over again; he wanted to have you once more. Second round lead to third and soon the sun was rising by the time your sweaty and exhausted bodies curled together to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

You moved as softly as possible, trying not to wake up the sleeping sorcerer who snored slightly on your ear. Removing his arm from your middle section was first, then you proceeded to try and detangle your legs from his.He groaned and you stopped moving, looking behind you Satoru merely adjusted in his sleep and continued snoring lightly, allowing you enough time to leave the bed. Your clothes laid destroyed and scattered all over the floor.

Swallowing thickly you decided to grab a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt out of Satoru’s closet. You had to get out of there. NOW!

Barefooted you left the suite and walked down the main hall hurriedly receiving weird stares from the people you crossed on your way out. Taking the elevator down your hands trembled. ‘Come on! Come on! Faster!’ mentally hurrying the elevator until you reached the lobby. As soon as that door opened you sprinted towards the main entrance where the hotel taxis lined up. You got in one and gave him your address.

The drive wasn’t long, when you made it home you told the cab to charge the ride to Gojo Satoru’s room. You didn’t have anything on you to pay. The kind looking old cab driver agreed and left.

You were about to walk in when Suguru came rushing out with a frantic look in his eyes. The moment he saw you his stomach tightened, you were dressed in Satoru’s clothes, barefooted, with your h/c hair disheveled and all the marks that covered your neck, visible through the collar of the shirt you wore. Your e/c eyes looked at him, rimmed with tears when you ran into his arms. Geto held you tightly for a moment giving you the solace you needed.

“Come on y/n… let’s go inside” he whispered on your ear guiding you back into the building and towards the elevator.

As soon as you made it up to your apartment you broke down. Suguru had to pick you up and take you to the couch where he held you in his arms

“What happened Y/N?” He asked dreading the answer. Had Satoru forced himself on you? He didn’t even want to think about it. If his best friend had done that… Suguru would find a way to kill him.

You shook your head and tried to calm down enough to speak but that didn’t happen for the longest time.

Finally when it seemed you cried a river you avoided Suguru’s eyes, looking down you said “I… fucked up… “ it was a small whisper “I slept with him” you admitted “he showed up here last night and warped us back to his hotel and then… everything got out of control” you avoided saying that Satoru had tried to force himself on you at the beginning. You didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled before you broke in tears once more. Suguru and you were not in a relationship but a part of you felt you had betrayed the possibility of a future with him last night.

Suguru swallowed hard, he had no right to demand anything from you, it wasn’t your fault you were in love with Satoru and not with him. He still chose to remain by your side because he didn’t have the heart to leave you alone when you needed him the most.

-

Crystalline blue eyes opened, he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room before a hand searched the spot on the bed next to him. It was cold and empty. He sat up like a spring, you were gone “Y/N!…” he yelled but you were not there anymore “fuck!” When did you leave? You didn’t even give him the chance to explain, to talk to you about what he felt and what he was willing to do to get you back. He didn’t want you to think last night had been a one time thing nor an ‘exes fling’.

It seemed he couldn’t do anything right. Last night had been… magical for a lack of a better word. He felt your love in your kisses, your tender and passionate touch, in your arms he felt redeemed, when you allowed him to have you Satoru thought…. he hoped to be on the way to get you back. Despite his mistakes and his guilt you welcomed him inside you once more and gave him everything.

He didn’t want all those hours of love making and love promises to mean nothing. He had to talk to you and he had to be ready to accept whatever it is you were going to say.

Grabbing the shreds of your clothing from the floor he inhaled deeply finding your lingering scent on them. Once more, the fact he almost forced you stabbed his chest with a piercing pang of guilt. Last night had been fueled by his jealousy. But when he realized what he was doing he changed his behavior and instead chose to show you how much he loved you, how much he needed you in his life.

Something in him was changing. Last night he opened his eyes to the monstrosity he was capable of committing. It wasn’t right to do this to you. He was inadvertently destroying the shards of your relationship.

A revelation washed over him like a bucket of cold water

He had to be willing to lose you if he wanted a chance to get you back. It had to be your choice. He couldn’t rob you of your autonomy just because he was going to lose his shit if you chose to leave him for good.

It took a few hours of getting ready mentally and preparing himself for what he was going to say to you. He wanted to talk to you and explain that what happened last night meant everything to him, he wanted to open his heart and lay it at your feet. He was afraid of what he was going to encounter. Will you reject him and tell him it was a mistake? Will you still push to go through with the divorce?…. Will you give him a chance to prove to you he was truly remorseful and willing to make changes to get you back?

He warped outside of the door of your apartment and rang the bell.

-

Suguru opened the door to see Satoru standing on the other side. His anger and frustration got the best out of him so he threw a punch that incredibly connected with Satoru’s cheek. The white haired sorcerer tumbled backwards but didn’t fall on the floor. He chose not to use his infinity on purpose, he owed that one to Suguru.

“What do you want now Satoru?” Asked his best friend while standing in front of the door, his frame blocking the access.

“Can I… talk to her?” Gojo asked in a tame tone, he didn’t come here to make demands, he wanted to fix things once and for all.

https://youtu.be/DGxHSt8gRkY

“I’ll talk to him Sugu” Your voice came from behind. Geto turned around to look into your eyes, doubt plagued his expression. He wasn’t certain it was the best thing right now. But before he could protest you continued “I’ll be alright… I have to do this…” squeezing his arm trying to comfort him Suguru sighed and nodded “I’ll be in my room if you need me” shooting Satoru a last warning glance he left walking down the hall.

|||

See you've been changing, baby

In good ways and bad ways

Can't say what I say, it's far too late

And I think you made me, baby

Made me too nervous

Crying and this hurt and I gotta tell you why

|||

“Come in…” Satoru followed you into your living room “y/n… I… I am sorry…. “ you were about to interrupt him but he lifted one hand asking you to wait “please let me say this..” agreeing you let him continue.

“I am sorry for all the pain I put you through, it was selfish and stupid. I never loved Sookie, it was always you. The only woman in my heart. And I know this sounds like a stupid excuse but it’s the truth. “ taking a deep breath he steeled himself for the next part. You were going to hate him but he had to come clean

“I was an idiot… I thought, before Sookie… I thought that maybe I was not really in love with you…. That… if I met someone else I wouldn’t feel this need… this terrifying addiction I feel for you… I was wrong. Everything intensified tenfold, I realized I love you more than anything in the world… more than myself. I wanted to fix everything but… it was too late because the damage had been done” swallowing hard Gojo continued “I failed you… as a husband, I know it has no forgiveness and yet… I cannot even start to think of a life without you in it. My days are miserable without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t function like a fucking normal person without you Y/N.

It hurt so much to hear his words. It made you feel like all the promises, all the love confessions he made before convincing you to marry him were lies. Why did he ask you to marry him in the first place if he wasn’t sure he loved you? What kind of sick game were you to him?!. You had to make a conscious effort to not sob. Biting your lower lip, forcing the tears to remain contained.

Almost as if he was listening to your thoughts Satoru continued “I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you Y/N. When I held you in my arms that night outside of the ballet studio in Tokyo, when I pulled you away from that car… I loved you. I just…. Was too stupid and too selfish to admit that to myself” he took a step closer and held one of your hands “I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize you were… you are all I need. Please Y/N, please forgive me. I can’t live like this anymore. The guilt and despair are consuming me alive” he said in a broken whisper. “last night meant the world to me… baby, I love you so much…” continued looking into your eyes with his azure orbs while he held your hand.

This was too much to handle…

It was one thing to think Satoru fell out of love and that’s why he found someone else. But it was another completely different to hear he had not even been sure of his feelings for you in the first place.

Pulling your hand away you couldn’t control the tears that escaped your eyes, like translucent cascades, pouring the pain you felt “leave….” You whispered looking at the floor.

“Y/N…. Please don-…”

You cut him “LEAVE!” A firm yell came out; half broken, half desperate. “You… you lied to me! All these years! Y… you lied to me! “ the statement was like a dagger straight to his heart. Spoken in a painful tone. He wanted to explain further but you cut him “I heard what you had to say now let me be…” the glacial tone in your voice froze the blood in Satoru’s veins. Your eyes hardened inclemently as you regarded this man who you once thought was the beginning and end of your life. You really couldn’t see the man you fell in love with in him. Not anymore.

|||

Said I can do this all night, baby

Said I was actin' out of line, maybe

Can't put my trauma to the side

When you told me I was lyin'

Had me feelin' like I died, baby

I seen a grown man cry, baby

Just see you do it, ain't special, no

|||

“Y/N..” absolute terror transfixed Gojo’s handsome features. Tears of despair running down his handsome pale face. Your aura was so cold and distant. He had never seen you like this before. “Please Y/N… I-…”

“I said… leave! And don’t come back. I am done with you. Good bye Satoru…” you turned around and walked away, disappearing behind the door of your room.

|||

And I know it might mess you up

Hatin' me ain't gon' get you love

Ain't nobody gon' set you up

I ain't even gon' sweat you, love

And we'll never be friends like this

God couldn't forgive like this

Way I really went in like this

Thank God I ain't been like this

|||

Suguru heard the loud exchange and came out. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted about his best friend. On one hand he was mad at him and wanted to kick him out himself, but seeing his desolate face as he stared at the closed door of your room made him feel bad for him. ‘You dug yourself in this hole my friend’ was all he could think “I think it’s best if you leave now Satoru..”

Gojo’s eyes were stuck on the door behind which you disappeared, his lower lip trembled, his hands shaking with anxiety, his heart contracting painfully in his chest, suffocating him. He needed.. he needed you but… you didn’t want him there. He wanted to say fuck it and steal you once more but he couldn’t solve things that way. No, you deserved more… better.

Without another word he warped away.

————-> Chapter 12

||| Tags:

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

[bubblybubbubs]

Stuck With Me (3)

Summary - Draco’s POV on losing his soulmate

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count - 3.5k

AN- I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 1  2 

taglist - @lonely-kermit @lifeasdreamgirl @mera-shifts @abbyloubaton @clumsilyclueless @confusedscreaminggremlin @seanh-boredom @weasleysmalfoyxstyles @thefandomplace @mayempress @shadyrose66622 @jay-jay-love @ktvia @lovebynorth @sweet-creature98 @remmyswritings​ @chaoticgirl04

Sometimes Draco thought about how different his life would be had he not left you, had you not gotten hurt and lost your fucking memory.

It was truly ridiculous, the universe was actively conspiring against him, he was sure of it.

His current living situation just proved that further to him. “Wake the fuck up.” Blaise said slowly pouring water on his face even though Blaise himself was evidently groggy. “I will kill you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Draco was unsure as to why Blaise had chosen to live in a crappy apartment when his family Manor was free. He missed his silk sheets and expensive pillows. Yet sadly the ministry had decided they wanted to take that leaving Draco on Blaise’s smelly consignment store couch. Had he gotten completely cut off by his family? Perhaps, it would make the disgustingly plain beans and toasts they ate daily make a lot more sense. He’d hate to think that Blaise fed them this by choice.

“Guess who wrote.” Blaise said, wiggling a letter in Draco’s face.

“Loud ginger?”

“Loud ginger.” He confirmed dropping it in on Draco’s face. “You should answer her before we get a howler, then we’ll really see how loud the ginger can get.” Draco looked at the letter, Ginny’s name was scrawled on the envelope and the aggressiveness of the signature made him heavily considering not opening it but the possibility of getting a howler from her convinced him otherwise.

Draco,

You are the worst and I hate you. I’m not sure if you care anymore given that you have refused to make contact with her but y/n is doing fine. I mean sure she’s been asking about her soulmate and lying to her is slowly killing me, but I’m glad you and Blaise are having fun in your bachelor pad and that you have successfully cleared your amnesiac soulmate out of your head.  

Looking forward to hearing your pathetic excuses,

Ginny Weasley.

It was way too fucking early for this.

-

Things were strange.

You had gotten most of your memories back but everything was very different than what you remembered, everyone was different after the war.

The Weasleys, oh the poor Weasleys, they were like your family but the life has been sucked out of them without Fred. They had all tried to hide it from you, they believed you were already going through enough and you didn’t need their problems too. Ginny especially, she hadn’t left your side since you woke up. You kind of felt bad for Harry because whenever he wanted to spend some one on one time with Ginny she always insisted you tagged along.

For example whatever the fuck this current situation was.

“I’m really sorry Harry.” You whispered to him. “I told her I’d be fine alone.”

At first it had sort of made sense how careful everyone had been around you, but at this point it was exhausting. You would walk into a room and it would just go silent. You lost your memory, not your basic communication skills.

“It’s fine, I understand Ginny can be quite persistent.”

“What about me.” Ginny said hooking her arms with the both of you.

“Just that I don’t think I should be going on your dates anymore, it’s kind-“

“Ginny.” Harry said interrupting you pointing towards a boy down the street. He was blonde and lanky, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

You had seen Ginny mad, in fact it was one of the first things to come back to you. Her calm fury was something that hadn’t remained constant since she was young and right now you saw it on her face as she stared daggers into the boy.

She scoffed. “I’ll be back.”

“This might take a while.” Harry said quietly, shaking his head. “Come on we can meet Ginny there.” You stole a glance across the street as Harry dragged you away. Ginny was yelling at the boy but he didn’t seem to care because he wasn’t looking at her he was looking at you. You felt your face heat up and you looked away from him following Harry. “Who was that, should I know him?”

Harry paused for a minute.

He had that face that people had whenever they were walking on eggshells around you.“He went to school with us but I don’t think you two were ever friends.” The way he didn’t look you in the eyes screamed to you that he was lying.Harry was always a horrible bloody liar.

-

It was really hard for Draco to process what Ginny was saying. Her anger had gone right to her face and Draco had been silently betting with himself as to how long it would take for her face to turn the same color as her hair. “Your face is really red.” Draco said, struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you drunk.” Ginny said stoically.

Was he? It was likely, he honestly couldn't remember the morning or yesterday. The days were sort of blending together.

“Malfoy.” Ginny said. Usually when people used his name they were yelling at him or were angry at him. But Ginny said it with pity which somehow felt worse.

“I don’t get why you're doing this to yourself.” She said. “You’re miserable.” He deserved to be miserable.

“It’s for the best.”

“How’s that.”

Draco had no interest in divulging his feelings to weaslette of all people, but it seemed his judgement was slightly impaired by the alcohol he may or may not had been drinking. “I’m going to fucking Azakban Ginevra,I just dont see the point in telling her I’m her soulmate and possibly facing rejection just for me to be thrown in Azkaban for the rest of my life.” Draco huffed. “Even if she somehow forgave me, I doubt the dementors will be allowing conjugal visits.”

“There are no more dementors at Azkaban, Kingsley got rid of them.”

Now normally Draco was against hitting girls but he was considering it heavily. “Thank you Weasley. I feel way better, I’m sure Azkaban is a paradise now. Remind me to send Kingsley a thank you letter.”

“Draco.” Ginny said.

Gross, hearing Ginny say his first name with pity felt even worse.

“You’re not going to Azkaban, Harry agreed to speak at your trial.”

“Oh great he’ll testify to the one time I helped him, I’m sure it’ll cancel everything else out.” He said. “I’m not a good person Weasley, that’s why I know I’m going to Azkaban, because I deserve it.”

“Is that why you’re staying away from y/n?” Ginny said even angrier than before. “Is this some sort of self punishment.”

Draco stayed quiet.

“Merlin, Draco go to fucking therapy.” Ginny huffed. “You’re not the only one that’ll suffer because of your self pity. She needs her fucking soulmate back, as much as I hate you for everything you’ve put her through I can’t argue with the fucking universe and neither can you.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have fucking gotten involved with her in the first place, it’s only put her in danger.” He took a deep shaky breath. “And her losing her memory was the universe’s way of telling me to stay away.”

He had known for a long time that she was too good for him  

It was dark and he was tired, turns out making potter stinks badges and teaching all of Slytherin clever chants was demanding. Draco wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings as he walked back to his dorm until of course he heard quiet sobs. He was a firm believer that crying in public was pathetic, especially in a hallway where anyone could stumble across you. And he might’ve told them that had it not been you. He had been thinking about you, not that he would ever tell anyone that ever. But how could he not, you were his soulmate and that had to mean something.

He barely had time to think as his feet moved on their own bringing him in front of you.

“Why are you crying.”

Merlin, could he have been any less compassionate.

“Why do you care Malfoy.” You said.

He hated the way you looked pretty even if your eyes were all puffy and your face was all red.

“I don’t.”

He did. He even started to walk away for dramatic effect of course.

“I’m scared.” It felt weird to hear sincere words from you that weren't you yelling at him, and he hated the fact that he didn't hate it. “Harry has his first task tomorrow he could get hurt or worse.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Don’t tell him I told you this but he has to be some sort of invincible to defeat Voldemort at the age of 1. Don't you think?”He could hardly believe the words he was saying.

“I suppose you’re right.” You finished off.

Draco sat tensely, he wasn't exactly sure what to do. He couldn't hug you could he? No that would be seriously overstepping. You would probably punch him in the face, again. After all you had been the one who wanted to forget about the whole soulmate thing and of course you were a halfblood and a gryffindor on top of that. It would never work.

For once he hated being right.

-

You were actively weighing how likely it was for Ginny to kill you if you woke her up.

Very, is what you eventually came up with. Maybe you could play the amnesia card.

“What do you want y/n.” Ginny grogged from under her. “I’ve been listening to you shifting around for the last hour.”

You had been staying at the Weasley’s and you had absolutely refused to take Fred’s bed so that had resulted in a cramped hammock floating in Ginny’s room.

You turned around to face her with a sorry look on your face.

“Did I know that boy, the one you were yelling at.” You said. “I just feel like I knew him.”

Ginny was quiet the same way Harry was. “No.” She said turning away from you. “No you didn’t.”

“Ginny-”

“Y/n please don’t.” Ginny said, cutting you off. “It’s not for me to tell, if it was believe me you’d already know.”

“I want to go.”

“Go where.”

“To Hogwarts.”

It was embarrassing. Everyone had gone already; they had been able to at least attempt to cope with the trauma they had endured. And you who couldn't even remember the bloody war couldn't work up the nerves to go.

Ginny stared at you for a bit before muttering. “Hermione and Ron are going soon, they’ll likely let you join them.” You were about to make an argument about going on your own before Ginny turned back around nonverbally telling you that the conversation was over.

You still couldn’t sleep and not from lack of trying. Your mind was whirring, ever since you had seen Ginny yell at the boy your lack of memory seemed to be feeling different. And your fear was beginning to settle in, your doctor said that some memories may never come back and that thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t feel all that different, Ginny said you were the same whenever you asked. But she could be lying (since she seemed to be in the habit of doing so these days) and you would never know because you had amnesia.

-

Draco was regretting not taking his plea deal. He would much rather be sleeping in Azkaban than waking up on Blaise’s concerningly uncomfortable couch to an angry looking ginger towering over him. No one seemed to value his rest and it was getting ridiculous. He pressed his eyes closed and pull his blanket further over his face in hopes that maybe Ginevra would disappear. Sadly that was not the case and Ginny ripped the blanket off of him leaving Draco quite cold.

Ginny stared down at him as she stood impatiently at the foot of the couch.

“Blaise someone broke into your flat.”

“I noticed mate.” Blaise said who looked just as exhausted hunched over his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked remember, or were you drunk too?”

Ginny did not look amused and Draco almost felt bad for being so difficult but then he remembered he didn't care.

“Y/n’s going to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. She’s likely going to get her memories back.” Ginny said. “Thought you should know.”

Draco sat up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Ginny said taking a deep breath. “You need to be there.”

“How so?”

“She’s going to remember all the shitty things you’ve done to her and are yet to apologize for and you’re going to lose your soulmate for good.”

“I don't see how me being there will change that.”

Ginny didn't answer him rather she walked towards his chimney. “You know what, screw you. I truly do not care if you go, I just thought you should have the choice that's all.”

Ginny didn't look at Draco, rather giving Blaise a short nod before using the floo to go back to the Burrow.

Draco let himself fall back down to the couch as he listened to Blaises loudly chow down his cereal.

“So are you going to go?” Blaise said his mouth still full.

He felt bad for Blaise’s mum all that money on etiquette lessons for what?

“No.” Draco said, burying his head in his pillow.

“You’re a tosser.”

“I can live with that.”

He could and he has. If he had a sickle for everytime he was called some variation of ‘tosser’ he certainly would not be sleeping on Blaise’s couch.

“I’m calling Pansy.” Blaise didn’t scare him, not in the slightest. But Pansy was another story, Pansy scared everyone, especially the people that loved her which sadly included Draco. “I will kill you.”

“You’re just saying that cause you know she’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I have a lot of sense.” Draco groaned. “In fact I have too much sense.”

Blaise ignored Draco’s exaggerated groans as he called Pansy.The call was short or maybe it was long, all Draco knew was that Pansy was standing over him with that look on her face.

“I’m not going, and you’re not changing my mind Pansy.”

“Blaise leave.” Pansy ordered.

Blaise looked insulted. “This is my house.”

“You call this a house?”

Blaise huffed mumbling under his breath curses at Pansy.

“That was rude.”

“So you're going to lecture me on rudeness now, that's rich coming from you.”

“I dont care.”

“You look and smell like shit, I can tell you ‘don’t care’.” Pansy said.

Never in her life had Pansy been one to sugar coat things and apparently she had no intention of starting to do so. Draco was going to argue it was the couch but he realized he couldn't remember the last time he showered so he kept his mouth shut. Draco a year ago would’ve drowned himself in the black lake had he known he’d come to be like this.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m pulling the card.”

“Pansy no that’s not fair.” Draco said sitting up.

“Fair?”

Poor choice of words.

“Draco, do I have to remind you my soulmate is dead, I stopped feeling tugs and being able to talk to my soulmate when i was 13. Your soulmate is alive by some fucking miracle, and frankly you’re being a selfish prick.”

“Oh.” He always hated when Pansy talked about it. Not because he didn't care but according to Pansy because he cared too much and the last time he had shown any sign of pity towards Pansy it had not gone well for him.

“What lies do you have Ginevra feeding her, does she think she has no soulmate, does she think her soulmate is dead?”

“She doesn’t think she has a soulmate.” Draco said in a low voice, he wasn't proud of what he was doing but he also knew he had no choice. “She was in her coma during the tug. I figured by the time the next one rolls around I have something figured out.”

“And what about you.” She asked. “She may not remember you but you’ll remember her, you'll never forget that you have a soulmate out there that you refuse to see.”

“I won't let myself ruin her.”

“She’s a grown woman, I find it demeaning that you don't see her capable of making her own damn choices.”

“What?”

“You think she'll hate you, you think she’ll be ruined, you think she’s better off. What about what she thinks? You think she'd be okay with you slowly killing yourself?”

“You're a bitch Pansy.”

“So I’ve been told.” She looked towards the clock.

“Come on lets get you something to eat.”

She reached her hand out for Draco to grab.

“I can walk to the kitchen without holding your hand thank you very much.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed onto Draco’s arm.

“What are you-”

Draco’s sentence was cut off by Pansy apparating them both out of the loft.

-

Draco had gone to his fair share of therapy, did it ever work? no, Draco would rather die before talking about his feelings with a stranger but he had been taught his fair share of anger exercises . And Merlin did they come in handy, truly it was the only thing keeping him from throttling Pansy as she stood there with a smug face looking at the rubble that once was Hogwarts.

“Pansy.” Draco said slowly.

“Shut up, look she’s right there.”

“I’m not ready Pansy.” Draco said wiping his palms on his pants out of stress. “I wanted to bring her flowers.”

“flowers?”

“Forget me nots.” He said with a sardonic dry chuckle. “It was our unofficial flower, ironic isn’t it.”

“The fact that you have an unofficial flower makes me want to throw up.”

“I need flowers.” He said. Pansy groaned before searching the grass. She picked up a dandelion swirling her wand transfiguring it into a bouquet of forget me nots.

“Here, go.” He was about to give another excuse but Pansy apperated away. The one time he needed her she leaves.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to approach her without seeming like a stalker.

His thoughts were disrupted by Hermione and Ron walking up to him. He wanted to turn around so bad but he had no doubt that if he did so Hermione and Ron wouldn’t hesitate to curse him.

“Granger, Weasley.” He said sticking his hands as deep as his pockets would allow him.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged.

“Just go talk to her.” Ron said.

“Thats why Im here.”

Ron mumbled something under his breath but Draco didn’t feel like fighting Weasley.

Draco had never felt such anxiety because of another person. He had always been confident and walked around like he owned the world, but now he felt scared.He watched you as you traced your hands across the bricks of Hogwarts, his steps faltering as he came closer to you.

“Hi Y/n.” He called out.

You turned to look at him. Draco’s heart felt heavy at the way you looked at him, not any recognition in your eyes. You had once looked at him with such love, then such hate but now you looked at him with nothing. because right now that’s what he was to you, and it broke his heart.

“You.” You said stepping closer. “You were the one talking to Ginny.”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking, she yelled I stood there.”

“Ginny does that a lot.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” He said.

You spotted the flowers in his hands.

“I’m sorry, who did you lose?”

His hands tightened on the flowers.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You said. “I lost my friend Fred, and my memory. But I don't feel like I lost it since I can't remember ever having it. But I miss Fred.”

He studied every centimeter of your face noting the subtle changes he didn’t notice the last time he saw you as you rambled on about Fred anxiously.

“You.” He said voice wavering. “I lost you.”

You stayed quiet for a second.

“I’m sorry I-“

“don’t know who I am?” He said with a dry laugh. “I was sort of expecting that.”

You didn’t say anything studying his face for anything that sparked a memory in you.

He dug through his jacket pocket pulling out a photo.

His hands were sweating and he tried his best not to touch your hand. Partially because he didn’t want you to feel his sweaty hands and because he feared he would break down at the realization that you were finally here in front of him.

“I’m Draco and you’re my soulmate.” He said

-

AN THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART THE LAST PART WILL BE THE NEXT PART

[softholand]

cherry flavored kisses - t.h

pairing: tom holland x youtuber!reader

summary: tom and harrison try to do your makeup while answering questions to know ‘who knows you better’

warnings: swearing, a lot of dialogue

words: 3.2k

a/n: this is absolutely not my favorite writing, but i still quite like it so, here you go!! lol i really hope you guys enjoy it, i love writing this series (can we call it that?) and i have so many ideas for it :)) please, let me know if you like it and want more of these <33 i think that’s it for now, enjoy!!

Another day, another video to film. This time you weren’t alone though, you had your boyfriend Tom and one of your other best friends Harrison with you, to film a video you had been dying to.

You were finishing setting up your camera to start recording when you felt two strong arms wrap around your torso. “Tom, stop! I have to finish this!” You chuckled, already knowing the owner of those arms. “Couldn’t resist, you look good from the back.” Before the warning, Tom swatted your ass, causing you to let out a muffled scream, which got the attention of Harrison, who was previously on his phone.

“C’mon, you guys will seriously keep flirting with each other during the whole video?” Harrison huffed, tossing his phone away. “No, we’re not!” You assured your blonde friend, but Tom had a different idea. “Speak for yourself, love!” He smirked, happy to annoy his friend. Rolling his eyes, Harrison said, “I already regret accepting this!”

Once your equipment was ready, you called Tom and Harrison, who got settled in your bed, with you between the two. “You guys ready? Did you turn off your phones?” You asked, not wanting to have anything getting in the way of your filming. When both boys assured you they had, you relaxed, pressing the small record button on the remote on your hand.

“Hi everyone, welcome back to my channel! Today I have two very special guests here with me. On my right side we have Tom Holland and on my left, Harrison Osterfield. I don’t think you’ve ever been officially to my channel before, Haz?” You asked Harrison, to which he responded, “No, I don’t think so! Hello everyone!” He said, flashing the camera an smile.

“Well, you guys are already familiar with Tom, so he doesn’t need any more introductions.” You sassed, laughing at his offended face. “Rude!” He said, before giving the camera a little wave. “Hi guys, it’s me again, Tom! I know, I know you guys have been dying to see me again, what can I say?” Your boyfriend let it out, taking complete control of your video.

“Okay, that’s enough, movie star! Can we actually start the video now?” You asked, Tom, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah! Go ahead!” He rolled his eyes to the camera, but you could feel the small kick he gave your foot, wanting to make sure you knew it was all a joke. You smiled, and before you could say anything else, Harrison came through.

“What is the video about, by the way? ‘Cause, I don’t know if you guys know but we have absolutely no idea what we’re doing here.” The blonde said, pointing to Tom and himself. “Yes, they have actually no idea why they’re here.” You laughed, being met with worried looks from both of the boys. “I didn’t like that laugh,” Harrison exclaimed, being followed by Tom. “Should we be scared?” Asked your boyfriend, but you quickly shrugged them off.

“No, just shut up and let me tell them, and you, what you’d be doing. On today’s video...” you said, before getting the makeup box you had put together for this video, which was hiding under your bed. “You are going to be doing my makeup!” You exclaimed, laughing at the boy's surprised reactions.

“Haven’t you realized I’m not wearing any?” You asked, pointing to your bare face. “No! You know you look beautiful anyway, love!” Tom cooed, making your cheeks grow red. “Oh, shut up!” You rolled your eyes, flashing him a smile.

“I don’t like this!” Haz let it out, inspecting some of your makeup products. “Isn’t it fun?” You smirked, making him roll his blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right? How am I supposed to do this?” The blonde huffed. “Actually, this is a test to know if you watch my videos, cause you’ll have to recreate one of my looks.”

Tom and Harrison shared a look that could only be translated by the word fear. “You do makeup-related videos?” Tom asked, completely oblivious. “It was not a proper makeup tutorial, it was more like a get ready with me.” You smiled, trying to ease both of the boys' nerves. “Well, clearly you both haven’t been watching my videos, so it’s your fault you have no idea what to do.” You sassed, putting your tongue out.

“We’re fucked, mate!” Your boyfriend chuckled. “Don’t swear on my videos, Thomas!” You scolded him, slapping his arm. “Okay, so I’m gonna show a picture of the look you have to recreate but that’s the only help I’ll give. You can’t ask me anything related to makeup during the video, got it?” You questioned, to which they nodded. “Also…” before you could finish your sentence, Tom added, “There’s more?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be asking you questions about me while you do my makeup, to know which one of you knows me better.” You squealed, feeling the excitement in your veins. The boys didn’t seem to be so happy, especially Harrison, who claimed this was not fair, since Tom was your boyfriend, therefore know more about you.

“We’ve been friends for forever, Harrison! I bet there’s stuff you know that Tom doesn’t.” You said, getting an offended reaction from Tom. “Hey!” He protested, to which you rolled your eyes. “Can we start now, please? We’ve been here for 10 minutes already.” You pleaded, getting them to finally agree.

“Okay, where do you guys wanna start?” You asked, being met with confused glances. After a couple of seconds, you heard “Foundation!” and “Primer!”, all at once. “Yeah, primer! That’s exactly what I said!” Tom tried to cover it up but Harrison wasn’t having it. “Fuck off, Tom! I said it first!” Swatting the blonde's arm, you went back to scolding, “I told you two not to swear!”

While the boys started to choose between your selection of products, you took back your phone that was currently sitting on the bed, with the selfie you took with the look they had to recreate. “While you guys start on my face, I’ll ask the first question. What do I like more: sweet or salty food?” You asked, closing your eyes for Harrison to apply the primer on half of your face.

“Sweet!” Tom answered, squeezing some of your favorite primers on his hand, before applying it to your face. “Yeah, you’re like an ant. Always looking for crumbs of sugar.” Harrison responded, making you chuckle. “True, I have a very sweet tooth.” You smiled, before going to the next question. “What is one of my biggest fears?”

While they looked for a foundation, they answered, again at the same time. Tom said spiders, while Harrison said, clowns. “I mean, you’re both right! But if I had to choose it would probably be clowns.” You said, laughing at Harrison's little victory dance. “C’mon, you can even look at a spider, love. You always call me to get rid of them.” Tom protested. “Well, yes but I would rather have to kill a spider than a clown.” You tried to reason but ended up making the three of you burst out laughing.

When you finally recovered from your fit of laughter, the boys started with their foundation choices. “Wait, you only put your skin tone foundations here, right?” Tom asked, still trying to find the perfect one. “Yeah, I’m not that evil.” You laughed. “Can I use this to apply it?” Harrison asked, holding one of your beauty blenders. “What did I say, Haz? No makeup-related questions.” You smirked, hearing him groan.

“God, I hope this works!” By your side, Tom started spreading some of the foundations he had placed on the back of his hand. “Okay, next question! Am I an early bird or a night owl?” Harrison was quicker than Tom this time, “Night owl! She just doesn’t sleep. It’s ridiculous!” He complained, to which you scoffed. “I do sleep, but I’d rather stay awake until 3 am than having to wake up at 6 am.” You reasoned.

“Just admitted, love! You stay up ‘cause we have lots of fun in bed.” Tom winked, making your face grow red, and Harrison gag. “Seriously, Tom?! Ugh, disgusting!” The blonde exclaimed while you tried your best to calm your nerves. “You did not just say that!” Tom only shrugged, laughing at both of your faces.

“Moving on, what was the most embarrassing moment in my life? Oh no, I already regret that!” You said, scared about the answers you were gonna get. Tom laughed while trying very hard to blend your foundation with an eyeshadow brush. Great.

“The time you slipped and fell into the water fountain.” You instantly cringed, remembering the moment vividly in your head. “God, I hate that I told guys that!” You let out a groan, asking for Harrison’s answer. “I was gonna say when you walked in your underwear without realizing Tom was doing an Instagram live, but that's pretty good too.” Harrison laughed, making you blush at his words. “Oh my god, I had completely forgotten that!” You exclaimed, joining your friends in laughter.

“It’s okay, babe! You looked really good.” Tom stated, pecking your lips. You blushed, still getting flustered by his compliments. “Thank you!” Smiling, you kissed him back, before checking your face in one of your blushes to see how they were doing. “That’s actually not bad, good job, guys!” You high-fived them, laughing at their smug faces.

“What’s next, then?” You waited for an answer, which came from Tom this time. “Concealer?” He was so unsure of his answer that it ended up sounding more like a question. “I don’t know, is it?” You shrugged, glancing at Harrison. “I think so, all I know is after concealer, you have to contour,” Harrison stated, taking you by surprise.

“By your shocked reaction, I think we’re right.” Tom laughed, you and Harrison quickly joining him. “Okay, while you guys do that, I’m gonna ask some other questions. Ready?” When they both nodded, you continued. “What is my favorite time of the year?” Tom immediately answered, afraid Harrison would say it first. “Autumn!” Your boyfriend proudly said, while your friend's answer was “Christmas!”

“I do love Christmas but my favorite has to be autumn, it’s just the perfect temperature and the trees are all orange. It's beautiful! So, point for Tom!” Tom smirked, making Harrison roll his eyes. “Next one, what am I allergic to?” You asked, and that was the only question you weren’t sure they had the answer for.

Harrison looked at you as if that would give him the answer. “You don’t have any allergies.” He stated, to which you shook your head. “I have one.” At that, he stopped applying the concealer to your face, totally focused on his next answer. “I have no idea, Uhm, pollen?” The blonde tried, but he was wrong.

“Walnuts, she’s allergic to walnuts!” Tom triumphantly exclaimed, knowing he was right. “Realy?” Harrison asked, to which you nodded. “I had no idea, you know how dangerous that was? I could give you something with walnuts and kill you?” He inquired, making you laugh. “I wasn’t going to die, Haz! It just gives me bad itches.” You clarified, watching him nod.

When the boys moved on from concealing to contouring your face, that was when things started to go south. Tom chose a colorway too dark for your skin tone, while Harrison put so much on your face turned orange. “I’ll give you guys one tip, just ‘cause I don’t wanna look like a clown at the end of this video.” You told them, before explaining they could go back to the concealer to clean the mess they made.

Once everything seemed good, they moved on to blush and highlighters, and you to your next question. “How many tattoos do I have?” You waited for the answers, while the boys kept painting your face. “Two, your star sign on your finger, and a butterfly on your ankle you did when you were 16 and regret it since then.” Harrison proudly said, making you wince at his words. “Ouch, you didn’t have to go that hard, Haz!” You smirked, looking expectantly at your boyfriend.

“What’s your answer, Tom?” Taking a break from your face, he cleared his throat before answering. “Three, the two Harrison said and a rose on your hip.” The brunette smiled knowing that, once again, he was the only one right. “Another point to Tom!” You exclaimed while Harrison looked at you like you had two heads.

“See? I said this game wasn’t fair! How could I know you have a tattoo on your hip?” The blonde protested, making your roll your eyes. “That’s not an excuse! The tattoo is visible when I wear a bikini, Haz!” You tried to reason, but clearly, he wasn’t having it. “Oh, sorry I don’t pay closer attention to your body!” Harrison mocked, sticking his tongue out when you flipped him off.

“The rose is my favorite one,” Tom stated, a smile wide on his face. “I wonder why!” Harrison exclaimed, and this time, it was Tom who flipped him off. “Okay, you guys finished with the skin, then?” You inquired, taking another look at yourself in the mirror. Overall, it wasn’t bad. There were a couple of patches here and there where they messed up the contour but, to your surprise, it actually looked decent.

“Now, you guys are lucky I chose a look with no eyeshadow.” You stated, getting excited about the next part. “But you’ll have to put false lashes on.” You smirked, knowing what was to come. “And you call that lucky?” Harrison inquired, making you laugh. “C’mon, it’s not that hard! Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” Taking the lashes from the box, you started to show them how to apply the glue and carefully place the falsies the closest to your real lashes as possible.

“God, I’m sweating!” Tom breathed, making you laugh. “I’ll close my eyes for you to apply, ok?” The boys nodded, and once your eyes were closed, you could hear their nervous breathing at each side of your face, making you chuckle. “This is stressing me out massively. You’re buying dinner tonight for making us go through this.” Your blonde friend sighed. “Oh, shut up! I do this every day!” You flipped him off, still unmoving.

Once you felt they stopped moving, you asked if you could open your eyes. Deciding to do a little prank, you pretended to open them, only for it to be stuck. “Oh my god, I think you guys glued my eyes shut!” You cried, already dying to watch his reactions. “What? We could do that?” Tom exclaimed, completely freaked out. “y/n, look at me!” Harrison asked, and you felt his hands going to your eyes.

“It hurts!” You whined, “trying” to get your eyes open. “Fuck, what do we do now?” Tom practically yelled, making you laugh, which obviously confused them. Opening your eyes, you saw two shocked faces, staring with wide eyes, right back at you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to!” You laughed, feeling tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I can’t believe you did this!” Tom breathed, while Harrison shoved you harshly, absolutely pissed. “You fucking asshole! I’m never filming with you again!” He stated while you tried hard to recover from your fit of laughter. “I’m sorry!” You apologized, doing your best puppy dog eyes for them.

“My hands are shaking!” Tom informed, showing his hands that were in fact, shaking. “Baby, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you’d believe it.” You said, guilt coating your words this time. Tom assured you it was okay, even saying he did find the prank kinda funny in the end. Harrison did not agree with your boyfriend, pretending to be mad for the rest of the video, even though the corners of his mouth gave him away.

Seeing you guys were filming for about forty-five minutes already, you decided to not even check the boy's work with the lashes, going straight to the last question, while they applied lipstick. “Okay, so here’s the final question, what is my body count?” You smirked, Tom’s expression completely shifting.

“Seriously? That is the question?” He inquired, raising his eyebrows. “Hey, they suggested the question.” You defended yourself, pointing to the recording camera. “I’ll go first then, let me see…” Your blonde friend said while pretending to count with both of his hands, over and over again. “Fuck off!” You flipped him off, watching his smirk grow in size.

“I’m kidding! But uhm, I would say five?!” Raising your eyebrows, you nodded, before turning back to Tom. “What’s your answer, sir?” You playfully asked. “Six, the answer is six!” He rolled his eyes, annoyed with the question. “Oh, shit! I’m so stupid! I forgot to count Tom!” Harrison face palmed himself, making you burst out laughing.

“Yeah, sorry to break this to you, mate but we already banged,” Tom smirked, shooting you a wink. “Tom!” You scolded him, while Harrison pretended to gag. “Gross! I didn’t need the image of my two best friends fucking in my head.” Harrison exclaimed, making your cheeks grow red. “Okay, that’s enough! Are you guys finished with the makeup?” You quickly asked, dying to change the subject. “Yeah, yeah!” Harrison murmured, while Tom smirked.

Taking your blush, you finally checked yourself in the mirror to see the finished look. “Oh my god, it actually looks good, guys! Good job!” You exclaimed, shamelessly fixing your lashes. “Well, I’m not gonna be the one judging who did it better, so now it’s with you guys. Who do you think did better, Tom or Harrison?” You asked, showing both sides of your face to the camera.

“About the questions, I’m pretty sure Tom won.” You stated, much to Harrison’s dismay. “Of course he did!” The blonde rolled his eyes, making you laugh. “Good luck next time, mate!” Tom teased, a smirk sitting proudly on his face. “Stop it, you two! Now say goodbye before I finally end this almost hour-long video.” You groaned, dreading the moment you’d have to edit the video.

“Bye everyone, thank you for watching! Please, vote for me!” Tom smiled, giving the camera an adorable little wave. “Mate, you already won the questionnaire, let me have this one,” Harrison whined, sounding like a child. When he said goodbye, you finished your outro, before finally stopping recording.

“We did it! Thank you, guys! It was a little chaotic but you did a great job.” You smiled proudly. “Of course, anything for my girl,” Tom stated, getting up from his spot on the bed, stopping right by your side. With both hands on your hips, he closes the distance between you, landing a soft kiss on your lips. “Okay, I had enough of you two for today. Bye!” Harison exclaimed, before also getting up, leaving your bedroom.

“Why do you taste like cherry?” Tom asked as soon as he let go of your lips. “Oh, it’s probably the lipgloss. It’s cherry-flavored!” You explained, asking if he liked it since his eyes kept trailed to your lips. “Hum, I love it!” Your boyfriend smiled, and this time it was you who closed the distance, giving him another one of your cherry-flavored kisses.

funny story (that’s actually not funny at all): the water fountain part it’s based on true events 🥲 lmao

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @cali-holland @mrs-hollandstan @uglypastels @storybookholland @bi-lmg @spideyspeaches @sinisterspidey @rosyparkers @hollandswife @sunshine96love

[yomiurinikei]

sdra2 boys as what i think they'd order when getting boba. i'll do the girls if u all like this but they aren't here rn because i tried to do full cast and i started this in like. may i had to compromise somewhere and rewrite with a smaller group. under the cut for length and all 8 sdra male participants

yuri: always always always asks for recommendations. could literally be allergic to smthn recommended to him and would just. get in nonetheless. makes a note of his favorite things he's tried, so he can order those when he doesn't wanna try to flirt with the cashier. likes sweeter/fruit flavored tea, and tapioca. internally cries if he's recommended a blended drink. still gets it nonetheless

hajime: he's in pain the whole time they're going to get boba. he doesn't wanna be here. is about to just ask for a water. would ask for 1000 customizations to make it "healthier" but feels embarrassed doing that if he's ordering in person instead of online. he'd like popping boba if he tried it but he's not in the mood to be adventurous when he's been bullied into getting a drink so he prolly just gets brown sugar or matcha with tapioca

shinji: isn't rlly crazy abt the trends/social media and has been in a coma so like. his hand has to be held a little bit but!! once he's worked out what all the different options mean and understands he has to think about how things will taste together, he's excited! tends to stick with just one order, but it makes him happy :] gets something light, like lavender tea with tapioca, but will occasionally go for more flavored things when he needs the boost, maybe passionfruit tea + raspberry popping boba

nikei: likes to try new drinks on his own, but when ordering with others (relaying his order for them to pick up, or just going out for boba with a group) will stick with whichever of a few comfort orders he likes. needs to have boba less often tbh. maybe if we put water flavored popping boba in a glass of water, he'll drink that. actually has a good amount of variety in his comfort orders but..... it's still not a balanced diet

teruya: boba extraordinaire but also. kinda not.... he's so adventurous and knows of so many different flavors and add-ins and customizations. not only is it a pain to make but also there is no way it tastes good at this point. the others simply watch in horror. who knows if he likes his monstrosity or not, he's committed to the part. would prolly like the cups that are split in two so u can have two flavors

yuuki: prolly doesn't get boba toooo often because it's just not his #1 fave? he's not the sort to go out just for boba. bc of this he sticks to the classics a lot and hasn't been very adventurous in his choices. likes his brown sugar milk tea with tapioca :] within like... two trips this will be keyed into, and he will be bullied into at least trying other flavors/getting sips of other drinks.

syobai: ,,,,would he??? order boba???????? like a lot of this has been personal orders v with a group but. either way would he get any? his teeth r prolly rlly fucked up so we wanna give him smthn so sugary. for whatever reason when i think of him j think of kiwi + tapioca boba but.... idek if that would taste good and even then can you imagine him ordering that? i can actually see him stealing the others drinks if they don't guard them close enough just because so,,, i suppose that makes senss

mikado: may his boba always be undercooked and his tea always poorly brewed. he's not invited to get boba bc the one time he was invited he got a cup of just cheese foam and also because he is a little bitch

[arrowflier]

My little entry for @gallacrafts theme 2: my original plans fell through, but I have a camera and words in my head, so here we go!

Ingredients for a Better Breakfast (and a better life)

Green Tomatoes

Some people say that green tomatoes are dangerous.  They're too acidic, they're toxic, they're not good for eating.

But past that pale, tart exterior, green tomatoes are full of good things.  Vitamins, to keep you well.  Like the ones your spouse puts by your plate every morning, to make sure you don't forget.

Antioxidants, for protection.  Like strong arms around your cells, leaving only to hunt down what would hurt you.

Some say they're an acquired taste, and that might be true as well.  The bitter tartness of them raw can make the strongest stomachs rebel.  Most people cook them, soften them, even encase them in other things to make them palatable.  Or they force them to finish ripening, to fit their idea of a tomato better.

You think those people are idiots.  You've always liked your tomatoes as they are.

"Ian, these tomatoes are green."  "Yes?"  "So why the fuck did you pick them if they're not ready?"  A kiss to the side a head, hands soft on tense shoulders.  "Because.  They're good for me."

Fresh Fruit

No one eats enough fresh fruit, these days.  Not the kind you buy from the store--the kind you take right off the tree, the shrub, the vine.  The kind that makes your hands sticky when you pick it, with juice and sap straight from the wound your interference leaves behind.

Your hands are scratched from twigs and thorns, the plant protective of its bounty.  But once you prove yourself worthy, once it lets you pull fruit straight from its heart, the reward is so much sweeter, so much more unique, than anything you could find on a shelf.

"Ian, what did you do to your hands?"  "What, the scratches?  Don't worry, it's nothing."  "Ian..."  "Here, try these grapes, I picked them off the neighbor's new vine." "..."  "Good, right?" A nod, then gentle hands on rough.  "Yeah.  But we'll eat 'em later; let's go get you cleaned up."

Slightly Burned Toast

Bread is the basis of so many dishes.  It forms the boundaries that keep things inside, the hard crust that protects the soft, the soupy, the fragile pieces of the meal.

But people get picky about their bread.  They want it just right, every time, perfectly golden and perfectly baked.  They smother it in other ingredients, make it work too hard, and then complain when it cracks and falls apart.

They don't appreciate it.  Don't let it shine on it's own, it's own way.

You like your bread plain, sometimes, first thing in the morning.  Slightly burned from the toaster, but soft underneath.  Unvarnished, uncomplicated; strong enough to hold the world, but not burdened with it.

"Good morning Mr. Milkovich."  "Good morning Mr. Gallagher."  "Gonna put some more bread in that bitch?"  "Absolutely."

Eggs, Scrambled

Eggs are one of the most commonly known breakfast foods, served in many ways.  Perfectly sunny-side up, the way your brother used to like.  Over-easy and over-sized, two yolks in the middle, extra protein for a busy day.  Hard-boiled and peeled, still hot from the water, soft and sliced on toast.

All good.  All worth eating.  But none quite what you wanted.

Or they can be thrown together with everything left in your fridge , cooked in one huge mess by your husband and the niece he adores, and piled high on a chipped plate just for you.

That's the way you like them, Scrambled with sausage and cheese and tobasco, a perfect mix of things you'd never have known went so well together.

"You don't have to eat that, you know."  A mouthful of food, pieces falling as a mouth opens to speak.  "What?" A finger, pointed.  "I know Fran got eggshells in that, I can make a new one." Arms folded protectively around the plate, a sharp glare over top.  "Don't you fucking dare.  These are mine."

Beverage of Choice, Served Hot

Coffee is traditional with breakfast, to help you wake up.  But weak stomachs can't handle the acid, and your body can't handle the caffeine.  You could water it down with cream and sugar, drink tea instead...but it isn't the same.

So your husband took care of it, last Christmas.  Got you a special decaf blend, mild and perfect.  He brings it to you in bed, and you buy him the fancy stuff he pretends he doesn't like when you go out on your run.  You get a second cup and drink it together, feet tangled under the table, the perfect start to your morning.

"Gonna need to stock up again soon." A hum of agreement, hands held over the table.  "What can I say?" A kiss pressed to a mug-warmed palm.  "You did good, Mick.  It's my new favorite.

Combine all ingredients in your mouth, mixing well.  Let them settle into your body, into your heart, into your mind.  Savor, enjoy.  And be glad that tomorrow, you can have it again.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3498 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: This is it 🥺🥺 I’m so sad we’re at the end but I couldn’t be happier by all of your reactions, even when things weren’t at their best I loved hearing your screams. Now we can all cry together as we say goodbye. Thank you so much for reading their story. Btw I started a Patreon for those who would like to support me. 

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 25 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Breath fogs the window as you stare out of it, a grey haze has rolled over the city, the sky a sunless landscape of thick clouds and cold winds. It snowed the other day and what remains on the streets has become soot covered or murky slush. It’s nicer to stare at the white dusting on the branches of the trees below, taking in the soft peace of the afternoon.

The world has grown quieter over the past few weeks, your world at least. You can’t say the same for the hoards of people in Times Square, packed like sardines as they count down the hours for the ball to drop.

Graduation was behind you. Nearly two weeks ago you finally crossed that stage to receive your diploma. Technically the real one was still coming in the mail but it’s the symbolism that counted. All of your friends cheered as your name was called, tears of joy and relief welling up in your eyes as you did it– you finally did it!

Wanda hugged you tight afterwards, both of you letting your tears fall. She adjusted your graduation cap, decorated with a lightning bolt for Pietro. It was the first thing you did when you received your garments, to make sure a part of him was with you on such an important day. You left her arms for Peggy and Steve’s, then Sam, Natasha and Clint and then there was Bucky.

He grabbed his crutches, lifting himself up from the chair though you didn’t make him walk. A few steps closed the gap between you and you held him, your arms securing around him as a precaution as he balanced on one leg.

His smile was so beautiful as he murmured, “I’m so proud of you,” holding his gaze before you kissed tenderly, humming against his lips.

You’ve been dating ever since that day in the hospital and life couldn’t be better, especially since you and Bucky laid out some terms. From now on you would always be honest with each other, never holding back your feelings. You were a team who loved and respected each other to talk and more importantly listen.

Bucky managed well on crutches but there were still things he couldn’t do, taking for granted days he could have gone outside for a walk. Sure he had muscles, but his arms were killing him, especially on the days he had to go to the doctor for a checkup. He started physical therapy too, to keep up with strength and flexibility for the rest of his body.

It was exhausting but you were there to help him almost every step of the way. Showering was a pain though Bucky insisted on some independence, wrapping up his cast as he sat on a cold plastic chair that extended over the tub. It made him feel like he had aged 80 years but he got over it.

You did what you could to help him heal but the greatest comfort Bucky found was when you were cuddling together. He cherished those moments the most, when you held him, resting your head against his chest, or when his head was in your lap as he stretched across his couch, your fingers lazily combing through his hair.

It was the quiet moments together, crossing the threshold of intimacy in new ways. This was the slowest Bucky has ever gone since he was in middle school, swallowing a nervous gulp before asking if it was okay to hold a girl’s hand.

Life after had been a blur; his guard up, women in and out, no chance to settle, in and out, no connection, faces blend together, names are nothing more than letters on his phone for a good time, in and out. It was all noise, a constant buzzing in his head until you came into his life.

You’ve opened Bucky’s ears and the noise became sweet music. You’ve opened his heart, the melody it sings is a love song and he’s soaring. He doesn’t waste time on regrets, instead he spends each and every day getting to know you and love you in new ways.  

You celebrated Thanksgiving together, with his parents coming to your apartment so Bucky didn’t have to travel. George brought most of the food over, it wasn’t barbecue but it was just as delicious. And this year you had the time to bake a pumpkin pie.

Your days were spent working at The September Foundation up until graduation. Elena hired you for Metro-General and you start there on the first Monday of the new year. Ideally, you’d like to still volunteer when you can and knowing Tony it’s something he fully supported. Things couldn’t be better.

“Doll, are you ready?”

Bucky’s voice pulled you away from the window and you climb off his bed and into his waiting arms. The basketball shorts he wears reveals his skinny left leg, paler than the other thanks to the dry flakiness he’s still working on remedying. He was in a cast for almost three months and just got it off a few days ago. You went with him, holding his hand as he beared weight on his weak muscle after so long.

He just finished the strengthening exercises he was supposed to do every day and now he needed to shower. You both did actually since tonight was Natasha and Clint’s annual New Year’s Eve party. You pull your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind you and Bucky follows you to the bathroom. He can shower without his seat now but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want help and you happily obliged. The water ran cold by the time you actually finished and you really didn’t mind at all. Now that Bucky’s cast was off you were looking forward to getting even more physical again.

Though you showered at his place you finished getting ready at yours since you could. Living next door to your boyfriend was obviously convenient. You were able to be together and still have the space you needed. For now it worked though you can see yourself moving in together. A smile stretches across your face when you think of it, Bucky playing his music, no walls in between, a far cry from how things began.

You open your closet to find a dress that would work for the theme of this year’s party which they claimed was winter except they asked all their guests to wear either red or green. You bit your tongue, thinking that sounded more Christmas than winter but you didn’t argue, it wasn’t your party. You pulled out a crimson colored dress that had a beautiful lace overlay. The back was sheer and though it was a little short you felt it was seasonally appropriate with its long sleeves. You finished your hair and makeup, finishing off with gold chandelier earrings and peep-toe heels.

A rhythmic knock rapped at your door and you knew it was Bucky. Opening the door your jaw dropped. Maybe it was the fact that you had mostly seen him in shorts and sweatpants over the last three months, and not that he didn’t make those look good, but the outfit he was wearing now looked incredible. He looked sharp in a juniper green suit with a soft tartan design, a brighter green patterned tie stood out against his light shirt. His shoes were dark brown with a hint of mahogany that reflected in the light and even though he looked amazing you were surprised he didn’t opt for sneakers to be more comfortable with his leg.

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he spoke first, biting his lip as he looked at you up and down.

He shaved since you left him and your hands went to cup the smooth skin of his cheek. “Not more beautiful than you.”

You pressed your lips to Bucky’s, deepening the kiss with your tongue which was probably a bad idea since it only increased your urge to rip Bucky’s suit off and take him right there. You forced yourself back from him, walking towards your couch to grab your bag.

Bucky followed you as quickly as he could considering walking still felt a little strange. His arms went around your waist pulling you closer to him as his lips began to kiss your cheek, trailing down your neck. You hummed in delight, exhaling stuttered breaths, almost losing yourself to his touch before you pulled yourself out of it.

“We can’t,” you stressed, reluctantly. “We’re gonna be late, come on.”

He sighed acceptingly, waiting for you to unplug your phone and grab your keys. Just before you were ready to leave his arms wrapped around your waist one more time and Bucky spoke before you could say anything.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The swell of your heart reached your lips as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes repeating the same words you’ve known and felt for so long. After another sweet kiss you locked up your place to take the long trip up one flight.

Clint greeted you at the door, his arms pulling you and Bucky into warm welcoming hugs. Unlike his guests, Clint was dressed in a white suit jacket, with black pants and a matching bow tie. He welcomed you into the apartment that was not filled with as many people as you expected.

There were familiar faces in your friends, including Sam who was able to take off this year. Right away Bucky teased him about his red suit calling him Elmo.

“Yeah whatever Kermit. And what about this one?” Sam teased, pointing at Steve. “That’s all you had?”

Steve blushed pink, feeling insecure about his outfit choice, a cozy forest green cable-knit sweater. “Like I’m supposed to have a fruit punch suit in my closet?”

“It’s cranberry and I look good,” Sam declared, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.

You let the boys continue to have fun as you said hello to Wanda and Peggy, both looking beautiful in their dresses. “Where’s Natasha?”

They shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her,” Wanda said, heading towards their marble island to grab a drink.

It was decorated with a row of mason jars, each filled a quarter of the way with coarse sugar mimicking crystal snow, with a candle in every other one and a chunk of bright red cranberries and sprays of cedar leaves sticking out of the others.

“But we just got here, so I dunno,” she finished.

You were looking around for familiar guests, surely the partners of her law firm would be coming again. An older woman sat on the couch talking to another unfamiliar face, the back of their heads glowing thanks to the curtain of twinkle lights that decorated the large walls of the living room. In the corner was their Christmas tree, a tall spruce decorated with frosted pine cone garland, matte red ornaments and thick burlap ribbon.

Clint brushed passed you, kneeling in front of the older woman who looked curiously familiar. Nervous energy was pouring off of him, from the way he kept chewing his nails to the constant tremble of his leg. He smiled as he passed you again standing near the door. With Natasha still not in sight you decided to do a little digging, by way of introducing yourself.

You walked over to the woman Clint had been speaking to, standing in front of her and the two people she was mid-conversation with. The man was big, his Santa-like belly was testing the buttons of his red shirt as it stretched across the material. His eyebrows were bushy and his brown hair was long in the front, looking a little messy as if it had been brushed through with only his fingers. He had a long beard that matched the color of his hair though it had a lot more grey in it.

The woman was beautiful. The emerald top she wore brought out the green flecks of her hazel eyes and her red lips drew you right into her beautiful smile. Her dark hair was braided with a crown, the rest of the locks falling onto her shoulders.

You caught their attention, extending your hand with a smile as you introduced yourself. The older woman spoke first, her voice as soft as a songbird as she told you her name, Edith, followed by the fact that she was Clint’s mother. Well, that explains it. You see the similarities now, the glasses she wore didn’t hide the fact that they shared the same eyes. Even her mouth was the same, thin lips that grew into the same beaming smile.

“I’m Melina,” the beautiful woman said with a Russian accent. “This is Alexei.” She pointed to the man who smiled at you. His grip was strong as he took your hand in his meaty paw. “We’re like family to Natalia,” he grinned proudly.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” you said, sitting beside them to talk all while in the back of your mind your brain was working to put together why they were here. Sure it’s a holiday but family members have never come to Clint and Natasha’s for New Years before. In fact, Natasha doesn’t even have family. The only “family” you knew of would have to come from Russia to–

Holy shit.

You find an acceptable way out of the conversation, rushing over to Bucky and pulling him away from his conversation. Your hands are jittering with excited energy, eyes as wide as your mouth is open.

“Bucky, don’t you see what this is?!”

He looks confused for a moment before his attention is diverted. Bucky looks past you to another unfamiliar person that walked in. It’s a man with brown skin dressed in all black. A dark goatee framed his face and the straps of an eye patch secure comfortably around his hairless head. Though Bucky tried not to stare he couldn’t help but notice the veining of scars stretching out across his temple and cheek. He stands tall and silent with his arms clasped behind his back waiting.

Clint cleared his throat, a nervous smile settling on his face. “Now that everyone’s here I’d like to welcome you to… our wedding.”

Gasps of surprise fill the room with everyone rushing up towards Clint as he tries to field questions, hoping no one was truly mad at the abrupt announcement. “I knew it,” you whispered under your breath, gently slapping at Bucky’s arm.

The man in black walked towards the front of the living room, clearly the officiate who asked everyone to get settled as they were about to begin. Clint knocked once on his bedroom door, before taking his place beside the man who introduced himself as Nick.

A young woman with blonde hair slipped out of the door. She nodded to him, cracking a hint of a smile before she settled next to Melina. A moment later everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open again.

Natasha stepped out looking like a dream, in a floor length shimmering ivory gown that showed off her well sculpted shoulders with its high halter neckline, embellished with beautiful beading. She clutched a delicate bouquet of white roses and winter greens with cranberry sprigs woven throughout. Natasha walked up to Clint without fanfare, just the audible sighs of those around her admiring the back of her dress, dazzling and tasteful cut outs that showed off more of her toned body. The fabric cinched above the small of her back, a small train sweeping around her feet.

She handed her bouquet off to the blonde girl, her “sister” you presumed, remembering an old conversation with Clint. Brushing back a loose tendril from her face, Natasha smiled widely as she stared at Clint, bringing her hands forward to connect with his.

Nick began speaking and you took out your phone to capture a quick picture as the impromptu ceremony began. Bucky’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as you watched your friends exchange their vows.

Clint’s hands communicated his words in sync as he spoke them. “Natasha, what more can I say to the person that knows me better than I know myself. Because of you the sun shines a little brighter each day, flowers have a sweeter fragrance and my heart is filled with treasured memories. Even the not so great ones like that time in Budapest that I know we remember very differently.”

A chuckle simmers amongst the small crowd and Natasha dips her head down to laugh.

“Because of you my heart found a home, and like my stomach, it will never be empty...” Clint smiled, taking Natasha’s hands in his. “...because it will always be filled with your love, a love that I promise you I will never let go.”

Natasha sniffs, brushing aside a tear as she gathers her thoughts. “Clint, you’ve given me a second chance in life, you’ve shown me what friendship and love truly mean. I promise to trust and respect you and give you the best of myself. I promise to always fight for you, never against you, to be by your side through whatever life brings. I promise to make sure we always have snacks in the house and to clean up all the stains from your shirts when you drop food on them.”

Clint’s shoulders shrugged with acceptance as he chuckled under his breath, “It happens a lot.”

“Yes it does,” Natasha repeated, smiling wider. She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I promise to love you through the good times and bad and to choose our love every single day. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to be able to call you mine.”

You felt Bucky press a kiss to your temple, leaning his head against you as the ceremony continued. When it was time Alexei dug into his pocket, pulling out the rings. With Nick’s concluding words Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, and his held her waist; their love sealed with a kiss as everyone cheered in celebration.

They pulled back from each other, Clint resting his forehead against Natasha’s. He brought his hand up, bending his middle and ring finger into his palm. Natasha did the same, their fingertips touching as they signed “I love you” before turning to face their friends and family.

Edith was the first to hug the newly married couple who made their way through everyone until they got to you. Bucky and Clint hugged as he congratulated them. “I can’t believe this.”

“I can.” Natasha laughed, pressing her cheek to Bucky’s as they hugged. She moved to you and you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “We’ve been planning this wedding for so long it was never going to happen unless we did it this way.”

“It was perfect,” you said, pulling back from your hug with a huge smile. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”

As the night went on you formally met Yelena, the blonde who Natasha grew up with, and learned about her exciting work. You were in similar fields as she worked to free people of human trafficking, mostly young girls that were to be indoctrinated into radical terrorist groups for forced marriage or even espionage.

Her work was more hands-on as she physically raided underground bunkers or warehouses. It made you feel like you weren’t doing enough even though you knew that wasn’t true. All the years spent working towards your goal reaffirmed that, and in just a few days you’ll officially move into your office in Metro-General, across from Elena’s as you begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do, help people.

You’re lost in a comfortable stare as you look at the Christmas tree, realizing the countdown to midnight had begun.

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

You turn around, looking for Bucky in the small room that was crowded with everyone standing so close together, huddled around the TV that showed the view from Times Square.

Seven! Six ...

The shimmering ball was descending and you were alone until….

Five! Four! ...

“Hey neighbor…” A voice called and you spun around relieved. Bucky smiled, bringing you close into his arms.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

He leaned in, his lips hovering above yours, pausing as you spoke above the roar of cheers. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you moved in here?” you purred.

“Every day. It’s like music to my ears.”

Bucky smiled tenderly, sealing the small gap between you, kissing you softly as he poured all the love from his heart out and into yours. Your hearts beat to the rhythm of your own symphony, a song that had a rocky beginning of notes that stretched high and low, but now it was a steady ballad you would continue to create together with your love.

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.05

It’s Only a Spark

09/10/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader         Word Count: 5,114

Warnings: nudity, slight angst, pining, fluff

A/N: We’re back y’all! Awooo is back on. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get back to this story but it won’t be a super long one. We’re talking less than ten chapters. I really want to start working on my original fiction because I want to publish, probably self-publish on Amazon or something. Fanfiction is fun but I can’t really sell it since it’s not really mine and I really want writing to be my future. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It’s been a long time coming. xoxo If you reblog thanks for helping me spread my work!

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories. Reblogs are welcome!

Taglist is closed!

Early morning beach walks, heat-soaked sand warming the bottom of your feet as it shifts and hisses with each step you take along the shoreline, is one thing that you can honestly admit to loving.

Being stranded on an uncharted island is not exactly great. Apart from the lack of proper vitamins—though you and Bucky had been making it work and with the knowledge of boar now, there’s your protein—no ice cubes, and no air conditioning, there are some things that you enjoy here.

These walks are one.

You enjoyed last night.

It’s been two weeks since Ryan came to live with you and Bucky, and every night is spent waiting for Bucky to sneak into the fuselage to come and hold you while you sleep.

Well, last night had been a little different. You’d fallen asleep with his head buried against your neck, your arms around his impossibly wide shoulders. Last night he’d let you see more of that vulnerability in him. The inescapable truth that even though he’s making all this work for the two of you—now three—he wants off this island too.

As you come to a stop, you take in the sky. Along the horizon painted around the bearably bright white-orange orb that is the sun, is a glowing and stunning fire red that fades out into a burnt orange, a splash of burgundy and gray before it changes into the deep purple night sky.

It’s so beautiful. This sunrise, bringing with it a new day of promise. A new day of secret looks and lingering touches.

Your mind is flooded with them. Each one more precious than the last.

Bucky hands you your food pack and he holds his hand over yours, fingers overlapping, for two seconds too long. At lunch he sits close. Knees touching before he leans back on his hands and one is so conveniently placed behind you so that it’s almost like he’s got his arm around you.

So many tiny hints that you’ve carefully calculated and added together and realize that Bucky must feel like you do. There’s no other explanation for it.

Maybe, if he were just as touchy feely with Ryan then you might consider it a possibility that he’s just that outgoing. That affectionate. But he only does this with you. He comes to your bed at night—thank goodness.

Last night it had been very clear that he wanted you to hug him, face buried in your neck or pressed tentatively against your chest until he relaxes enough that you can ask him how he’s feeling.

You chew on your scratchy chapped lip, watching as the water changes from dark turquoise to crystal green.

What will Bucky think when he wakes up and you aren’t beside him?

Usually it’s the other way around. Bucky is always gone when you wake up. Last night you’d been woken up by painful memories turned dreams. A life previously lived before the world had fallen apart.

Somehow, you find yourself being grateful for it. All of it. Because it somehow brought you here. To Bucky.

But you’d needed air and that’s why you’re on this beach, earlier than you normally are.

You can’t be imagining things, right? Bucky seems like he likes you too. It’s a little unfair to him if you’re honest. Who else can he like here? Ryan?

Nothing you’ve seen has indicated that he’s gay. If he’s bi, then maybe Ryan but Bucky seems to bristle every time Ryan comes near the two of you when that special tension begins to build.

Are you reading into things too deeply?

Frustrated you slide your hand up into your hair, yanking on it in annoyance as you quickly sweep through it and begin to strip.

Just a quick swim.

 Bucky stirs, reaching for you, knowing he’ll have to hurry out of here in a minute to avoid the questions that Ryan will no doubt ask if he spots him coming out of the fuselage.

Several times, Bucky has nearly told him that he likes you. That you’re his. But he can’t. He hasn’t even told you that he likes you. What if he tells Ryan all of that and then you don’t feel the same?

Bucky thinks…he hopes you feel the same. It seems as if you do.

But in the busy hours of the day when he’s shaping clay and cooking bricks for the hut and you’re weaving the thatch for the roof, he looks up to find you smiling, laughing, or happily chatting with Ryan.

The two of you have hit it off so well and he cannot deny the chemistry that the two of you share. There’s a sparkle in both your eyes when he finds you talking. A spark. An option.

You’re the one that gets to make the choice here. You’re the one that has the right to tell either of them, or both of them, no.

So as Bucky reaches out for you, craving the soft caress of your body and hands as they stroke his hair sleepily, his heart gives a fearful lurch when his hands make no purchase in their search.

He sits up, a panic setting in as he looks around frantically.

Calm down, Bucky. She’s probably just outside.

Only you aren’t. As he emerges, he observes the long since dead cinders of the campfire. His eyes scan the area and he spots Ryan’s blanket rolled up and propped against the driftwood trunk he'd snuggled up to last night.

Where the fuck-? Bucky’s mind reels again. Calm down, Bucky. She’s probably just down by the beach.

Only you aren’t!

Where the hell is she?!

Bucky moves along the length of the spot he'd picked for the hut. Just at the edge of the dense jungle, sturdier ground to give the hut a fighting chance against any storms that may come around.

The sand is undisturbed. His empty clay trough has no water. The palm fronds you’d been tearing fibers from to weave the thatch roofing sits untouched.

There’s also no Ryan.

Suddenly he pick it up. His ears prickle at the sound of your laugh.

He launches himself to the left, ears straining to get it all more clearly.

Now he hears a more masculine tenor that mixes and blends with your own sweet sound.

His heart gives a wild clench as he takes several steps in your direction but stops and waits, eyes trained on the curve all the way down the southern shore.

It takes a few moments because you’re still far away. You’re both laughing, saying something he can’t make out then laughing again.

Bucky clenches his fists, metal screeching in protest.

They’re just walking. Keep it together.

He knows that he should keep his cool. You’d just spent all night sleeping in his arms. You’ve spent the past few months with him, depending on him. You’d declared how much you need him and-shit…

You and Ryan round the large rocks in the distance, just as he realizes that he hasn’t told you how much he needs you. How much you mean to him. He’d only just decided that he really likes you and needs to tell you but what if he’s too late?

What if you think you’ve been a burden?

He hasn’t always been nice.

Fuck.

He's taken care of you. He’s made sure that you’ve wanted for nothing, at least in the way of safety and food—though you’ve done that for him too.

Being nice however, he could have done better. He can do better.

You and Ryan get closer and he can see your skin glistening in the morning sun.

You’ve gone for your swim and Bucky’s suddenly full of fearful rage as he considers what must have happened to have you two walking back together.

He can almost picture you swimming in the sparkling turquoise water. Your naked body is silhouetted against the rising sun but he can imagine that every curve of your body had stood in sharp contrast to the bright rays.

Even in his memories—fond memories that he will never admit to thinking about as much as he does—he can see the peaks of your bare breasts. He can see the curves of your hips, your butt, your neck exposed as you throw your head back when you resurface.

His neck feels hot all of a sudden and he burns hotter when his mind is filled with the image of Ryan coming upon such an exquisite sight.

He would have stood on the beach, probably watching you for much longer than you’ll probably ever realize. Ryan probably cleared his throat when he had his fill and you would have turned maybe expecting Bucky?

Bucky hopes.

Then you’d have ducked under the surface when you realized it wasn’t Bucky but with the way he knows you and Ryan are, that innocent lilt in your voice. The meaningless flirting…

You would have come out of the water after having asked Ryan to turn his back and Ryan would have stolen a peek of your perfect form when you’d turned your back to him as you pulled on your underwear and then slipped back into that summer floral dress you’d been wearing when the plane went down.

The colors have faded a little and the bottom is just as torn as ever. You’ve taken to wearing shorts underneath as it seems to keep getting shorter and shorter the more work you do in it, but it keeps you cool so it’s a favorite of yours.

Your hair is still damp, Ryan’s shoulder bumping yours as the two of you casually walk his way.

Ryan leans closer towards you and says something that Bucky can’t hear but he can see the way it flusters you and you reach over to push him away. Ryan is sent sideways, his feet walking into the shoreline where he splashes only a little before he hurries back towards you and nudges your shoulder again but then reaches around to grab both of your arms to steady you.

He drops them right away, responding to the way you curl in on yourself at his touch, but it’s enough of an embrace that Bucky’s heart gives an ache.

What’s wrong with me? Bucky wonders, knowing that he’s completely in love with you but unable to understand how it happened.

His eyes are glue to your pretty face, the stunning smile that stretches your lips as you and Ryan exchange pleasant conversation, but Bucky can’t care enough to hear what the two of you are saying.

Your skin is glowing in the morning sun as it bounces off the layer of tiny seawater droplets.

If he could have thought up the image of perfection, he knows that he could not have dreamt you up. Yet, he knows that you are it. You’re the epitome of his desires and not just physically. Of course, that part of himself has awoken with you always so close and so exposed in the literal sense.

He’s seen more of your body than he has of any other woman’s in his life, ever maybe.

Sure, there’d been a dalliance here and there in the back of a powder blue Cadillac, but those girls hadn’t undressed. Bunch of dresses pushed up around their waists as the fluffy scratchy fabrics underneath had scratched at his neck and face.

Yes, he has enjoyed the sight of you, but it goes beyond that now.

His attachment, his need comes from your own. In your eyes he can see you search for him, needing him just as he does. You’ve become the other half of his heart. The part that had lost all purpose when Hydra had twisted him mind into the Soldier.

Hearts were for beating. Staying alive. Nothing more.

Until you.

Then it began to hurt and pine and want again. It began to soften with affection at every corny joke, every lingering touch, every sweet chuckle.

You’ve wormed your way under his skin and there’s no way he can keep pretending that he doesn’t already think of you as his. Just as he’s already yours.

“…bucky?...Bucky…?” You sound far away but you’re in front of him, walking closer, your mouth moving but he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Is he alright?” Ryan asks, his voice distant too.

“I don’t know.” You frown, concern turning the corners of your lips down. “Bucky?”

“Ya alright, mate?” Ryan reaches over and gives Bucky’s right shoulder a soft slap, but the gesture doesn’t even move his massive body.

Bucky’s gaze is pull to him and Bucky sees red.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your heart is pounding with fear as you watch the glare that Bucky fixes on Ryan.

Ryan shrinks back a step, still looking a bit concerned by Bucky’s strange stoic stare. However, with Bucky’s sudden flare of rage, you’re almost certain that he’s going to deck him. Bucky is going to punch Ryan, right in the mouth. You just know it.

Instead, Bucky marches between the two of you, separating you with his large body.

As he passes he takes hold of your hand, the metal cool compared to the sun soaked warmth of your skin, and pulls you along down the beach.

“Bucky!” You gasp.

“Where ya going?” Ryan asks, turning to watch the two of you go with his arms thrown out to the sides as his confusion grows.

“I’m not-Can you get the bottles of water from camp?” You call back to him, tripping over your feet a little as you try to match Bucky’s pace.

Reaching out, you wrap your free hand around his metal bicep to get more balance.

“Ya, alright.” Ryan calls back.

“Bucky where are we going?” You demand.

“To check the fish nets.” He explains shortly.

“I already did that.” Ryan retorts, raising his voice so that you can both hear him as Bucky pulls you along further and further.

“To get some fruit then.” Bucky counters.

You realize now that he wants to get you alone, so you turn to follow him without resistance.

Bucky doesn’t speak until you’re both far away from the beach by the hut. He turns you into the small break in the trees where you normally come to pick bananas and mangoes.

Dropping your hand he immediately stoops down and begins to rifle through the fallen mangoes, squeezing them gently to see if they are ripe or spoiled.

“Bucky?” You sigh, watching him ignore you for a bit before you sigh and move to help with the fruit.

You’re not sure how he expects you to carry more than two or three with no basket. Minutes pass. Five, ten, fifteen minutes of sifting through fallen fruit before your arms are full and with a sigh you drop them and reach down to rip more of your dress to wrap them up and carry them more easily.

You’re not very careful with your tearing or as precise as Bucky when he did it that first time all those months ago, so you tear too much and the rip on one side runs all the way up your side exposing your skin.

“What are you doing?!” Bucky gasps, dropping the fruits in his arms as he rushes for you.

The plop, thud, plop of the fruits draws your eyes before his massive form is beside you pushing your hands away from your dress. The shorts underneath are more visible now and tattered like all of your clothes. They’re more durable made of jeans, but you use them to do everything so they’re your most worn piece of clothing.

Your arms fall limply at your sides as your patience wears thin. You chew on your lip hard, urging your voice to be even as you look at him, your eyes searching his furrowed brow, those frantic blue steel eyes.

He’s got something on his mind but he’s not sharing and it’s really starting to piss you off!

As he holds your dress closed, he meets your eyes, hesitating to keep hold of your gaze.

“What’s going on?” You wonder.

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugs. “Don’t rip your dress anymore. Don’t you like this one?”

“Bucky…” You sigh again, urging yourself to have patience.

There’s a sudden shift in his expression, an anger that flashes behind his eyes and it only spurs your own on.

Why would he be angry with you?!

“Just, stop showing the pilot skin.” He lets your dress go and moves back to his abandoned pile of fruit.

“Are you joking?! What does that even mean, Bucky?” Your blood is boiling.

“He likes you.” Bucky declares, throwing the words over his shoulder as if you’re stupid not to have noticed.

“I-” You stutter, trying to wrap your mind around his words, what he means, why it matters, what his anger could indicate. “So what?”

Bucky’s shoulders tense.

“It doesn’t matter if he likes me or not. In case you haven’t noticed, I am the only woman on this island, so he really doesn’t have much of a selection. If we were back on the mainland, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t spare me a glance.”

“Is that really what matters here?” Bucky seethes, but you still can’t guess as to why he’s so bothered by it.

Unless…

“He didn’t see anything, alright? He had his back turned when I got out of the water.” You assure him.

“Oh, like that ass wouldn’t peek? You’re very naïve.” Bucky mutters.

“Excuse you?” You gasp, all attempts at bottling up your anger abandoned.

“He wants you!” Bucky insists, rising and turning to look at you, closing the distance with two steps to stand close but not too close. Just close enough that you’re both able to shout in each other’s faces. “Can’t you see that? The way he looks at you, he even asked me if you were taken. He was all happy when I told him you didn’t have anyone waiting for you back home.”

Your heart falls, a sudden realization hitting you as you think about all the sweet ways Ryan has indeed been flirting with you. If you were taken…

“So…so what you’re saying is that he asked you if I was taken and you told him I wasn’t, right?” You swallow hard, fighting the lump in your throat as you see that Bucky—as stupid as it is to think it in this way—hadn’t claimed you.

It goes in the face of what you’ve always believed, that women are not objects to be owned by men, and yet here on this island with two of them here alone with you for who knows how long—possibly forever—for Bucky not to stand and tell Ryan that you’re his…but you aren’t, are you?

Hurt and anger flow through you, making your hands tremble.

Bucky doesn’t answer. You shake your head, unable to accept that he doesn’t want you enough to tell Ryan that you’re off limits. That you’re his.

What has all this been over the past three months then? Have you been so stupid and so delusional that you saw things in his behavior that aren’t really there?

“I need space.” You tell him and without hesitation you turn and walk away, into the jungle to be as far away from this emotional blow as you can.

Only, you get two steps before metal is wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back towards him swiftly and easily as if you’re made of nothing more than feathers.

He pulls you against his chest, metal hand extended back behind him as he does. When you crash against him, he wraps it around your waist while his other hand reaches up behind your head to hold you in place as he dips and kisses you hard.

His arms are vices around you, pulling you tight as if he can’t feel you unless you’re right up against him.

After a few moments of contact, his lips soften, melding with yours gently and tenderly.

You’re breathless as you let him lead, relishing in the feel of his kiss as his lips part and the tip of his tongue coaxes your own open.

You gasp but meet him eagerly, letting your body fall against his. Slipping your arms underneath his, you feel the thick, hard planes of his back until you reach his shoulders and pull him towards you as the kiss consumes you both.

Your body is humming. You can feel every shift of his skin against yours like tingling fire. A burning touch that electrifies you as it shifts in meaning.

This is Bucky claiming you. This is his declaration.

He pulls back, a small smack to his lips as he breaks the kiss. Your eyes are hazy and fogged as you open them, searching his face with only half your mind working while the other still lingers on the intensity of his kiss.

You’re breathless too, and you forget so when you breath it’s a rush of air that makes you lightheaded and you cling to him harder so that you won’t fall.

Bucky smiles, adjusting his grip to hold you steady.

He brings his hand up to caress your temple and then your cheek, sliding a tickling thumb along the still tingling skin.

“Be my girl?” He says, voice deep but low and quiet so that only you can hear. It dives into your chest and warms it further, making your legs weak with not only their meaning but tone and the smooth velvet of its flow.

You swallow hard, looking for more breath where there doesn’t seem to be any. It all feels so unreal. Like your daydream as you’d watched him mix clay and chop wood and every muscle of his torso had rippled and flexed for you and you’d wished he would hold you, just like this and kiss you, just like now.

Somehow, you find strength and oxygen enough to speak. “I thought I already was.”

This confession makes his expression soften; it draws his brow down once again as he devours your face before leaning down to claim your lips once more.

You whimper, so please and so relieved that you haven’t been alone in this. You’ve wanted him and he also has been wanting you.

You break his kiss to gasp for air, “Never let me go.”

Bucky sighs, pulling you tighter—as if that’s even possible—against his chest. His hug is crushing and you know that he’s holding you as close as he can but you want it to be even closer.

“Never.” Bucky whispers, sounding emotional too.

You want to see his face, to see the expression that he’s wearing that makes that voice, but you can’t bear to pull away. Instead you bury your face against his neck as he does the same and both of you simply enjoy the embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~

This shift is dynamic.

The way you and Bucky respond to each other’s presence changes instantly and you couldn’t be happier.

As you walk back towards the beach with him, hand in hand, you can’t help the smile that splits your cheeks.

Each of you chances several glances at the other, smiling wider as you make your way.

“What?” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head as you stare.

“If I’d known that making you jealous was the way to get you to make a move…” You tell him.

Bucky shakes his head. “I think I’d have gone crazy if you’d done anything intentionally.”

You can almost picture Bucky’s rage if you’d done something on purpose, throwing yourself on Ryan just to get a rise out of him.

The idea of you wanting anyone’s touch other than Bucky’s is so preposterous that you really don’t know how Bucky could have believed for even one second that you and Ryan were possible.

“I’ve only wanted you, Buck.” You sigh, cuddling closer into his side as you rest your head against his metal bicep.

Bucky sighs deeply, relieved?

“I didn’t want to…assume,” He begins. “We were the only two here and you’re the only woman? Me the only man? I was so afraid that I’d make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“You could have asked.” You sigh. “But I guess I could have said something too. I could have told you it was okay.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I-I wasn’t nice to you at first. I don’t blame you for thinking I wasn’t feeling it. It’s my own fault.”

You pull him to a stop, tracing the shape of his forearm. “Bucky, none of this is your fault.”

This guilt he carries around with him about the plane, being marooned here, now his behavior when you first crashed?

“You didn’t know me. You saved me. We were strangers then. I don’t blame you for keeping me at a distance. Especially with everything that you’ve gone through and who you are? It’s natural for you to want to be cautious.” You understand his position.

Being the former Winter Soldier could not be easy to carry.

“But I should have been nicer.” He argues, reaches up to stroke your cheek again.

You lean into his touch, suddenly grateful that he can touch you like this away from the fuselage at bedtime.

Bedtime…holy shit. Your stomach erupts into flutters.

You quickly clear your throat and swallow to clear away the thoughts of how this will change bedtime too.

“I should have been more patient.” He continues.

With a smile, you shrug. “Maybe, but then you wouldn’t be you. I needed the kick in the butt. I’ve led a pretty sheltered life. I wasn’t prepared to survive out here. I’m glad you were stern.”

“Stern feels like an understatement. I was mean.” Bucky argues.

“Why are you so damn stubborn? I’m trying to give you a pass here, Barnes.” You gripe, suddenly annoyed again.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, stroking your cheek with more affection at the sound of your irritation.

“Oh, man. You’re a firecracker.” He observes but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning in to kiss you again.

You push yourself towards him, eager to kiss him again because you can, and you’ve wanted it for so long. The fervor with which you pull him against you should be embarrassing but you’ve been so starved for his affection and now that you have it, you’re going to take advantage of it.

“I really like you.” He whispers as he pulls away.

Your heart is exploding with butterflies and your stomach flips pleasantly.

“I really like you, too, Bucky.” You smile. “So much.”

He gives you one more quick peck before leading you back towards the hut, hand in hand.

As you approach, you put a little more distance between the two of you but keep your hand wrapped around his. Both of you search the area for Ryan, Bucky probably eager for him to see that you two are now together but as you move towards the clay trough, you spot only the bottles of water that you’d asked him to fetch.

Bucky lets go and moves for them, thirsty.

“Well, at least he’s useful.” He says, taking a drink. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” You look around, wondering if he’d one back to the fuselage for something. “Maybe he forgot something back at camp?”

“Maybe.” Bucky says, eyeing the way to camp with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know if I trust that guy.”

“Oh, come on, Bucky. I’m already yours.” You tease and turn to fix him with a smile.

Bucky shakes his head, fighting his own but it only makes him give you a heart-stopping half-smile. Pretty pink lips curved on one side in a new expression that you make note of to demand it again someday.

“I’m serious.” He insists. “There’s something off about it. I don’t know what, but I feel like he’s hiding something.”

“Something about the plane?” You wonder, voice serious now as you consider that you’ve only known Ryan for such a short time.

“Yeah.” Bucky nods, moving towards the clay trough where he immediately dips his hands in to mix the sediment that’s settled at the bottom.

“But he’s so nice.” You counter, feeling sad by the thought that Ryan might be two-faced.

“Most bad guys are.” Bucky mutters sinisterly.

You open your mouth to argue when the sound of splashing turns you towards the shoreline.

Rising from the water is Ryan, shirtless, blonde curls plastered against the side of his face. He wipes the water away and freezes for a moment when he spots the two of you on the beach.

He suddenly smiles, moving towards his shirt and pulls it over his head as he approaches.

“Hi.” You offer, squinting against the morning sun. A quick glance at Bucky shows you he’s standing, hands and forearms covered in clay as he stands watching Ryan too.

“Hello.” Ryan replies, moving towards the two of you with relaxed and easy walk. “When did you two get back?”

“Just now.” You smile at him, forcing yourself to see the kind man instead of the suspicious pilot that showed up out of nowhere.

Bucky’s own worries now seeping into you.

“Went for a swim?” You wonder, looking over his shoulder in the direction he came from.

“It’s hot out here.” He explains.

“Did you find anything?” Bucky suddenly asks, his voice full of forced friendliness. “You went to the cabin, right? What were you looking for?”

Ryan freezes by the small fire pit you and he had dug up a few days earlier to cook food on the beach instead of having to run all the way back to camp.

“I did go there, yeah.” He nods. “I wanted to see if mah bag was still there. I had some personal items I was hopin’ had survived the crash.”

“Nothing too important I hope?” And you really do hope it’s nothing that means a whole lot.

Ryan meets your gaze and fixes you with a tight and forlorn grin. “Some pictures of mah son.”

“Your son?!” You gasp, completely shocked by his declaration. “You have a son?”

“Aye, I have a son.” Ryan sighs. “I’ll go get the fish, ya? I’ll cook breakfast. You take a rest.”

“Now he has a son?” Bucky wonders once Ryan is a safe distance away and you honestly can’t blame him for the suspicion you can hear in his voice.

You really don’t know Ryan at all and now have to wonder how much more he might be hiding.

[godzillerd]

Resident Evil 8 AU Pt 2: Parenthood Boogaloo??

Former Post Here

To summarize: Ethan takes deal. Miranda goes boom. Village goes boom. Chris is like this is serious. Heisenberg is like no baby for me pls. Ethan is like yeah no absolutely no baby for him pls. Chris is like sorry but baby for him. Didn’t even get a baby shower. Fucking brutal. Hate this place.

RIP pls forgive this obnoxiously long post that will never become a cohesive fic.

Why am I like this. 

My life is a sea of regrets.

Seriously though forgive how all over the place this is - it is literally me vomiting thoughts for sport.

Immediately after leaving the village (what was left of it) Heisenberg headed west with Rose. 

As expected, it took a matter of hours for the Duke to show up bearing gifts. Not much, mind you, but enough. 

He even allowed Heisenberg to start running a tab, despite quibbling that it was a bad business practice. 

For the first year, they were completely off the grid with zero contact with the rest of the world, usually living in ramshackle hunting cabins in the forests of whatever country they happened to be in at the time. Hungary, Austria, Slovenia, and eventually Switzerland. 

Not requiring food or water himself, caring for Rose was relatively easy with some help from Duke. Heisenberg became an old hand at building fires out of nothing.

The whole baby thing did not come naturally to him. In fact, it took over six months for Heisenberg to have any kind of clue as to why the potato might be screaming this time. 

He came very close to just killing it and fending for himself, but after seeing what Rose did to Miranda... it was enough to make anyone hesitant. 

Around eight months in, Duke showed up with a new present: A cell phone. And a secure number. And a delicate observation that Ethan Winters might actually kill Heisenberg if he didn’t call soon. 

Calls with Ethan were an infrequent thing. Ethan passed along pertinent information, but being under heavy monitoring, he didn’t have a lot of private time. 

Heisenberg had less of an excuse, and just genuinely didn’t like Ethan. 

Despite being told about it specifically, Heisenberg missed Rose’s first and second birthdays. She didn’t seem to mind. Ethan did.

Around then, it became obvious that living in the woods, completely cut off from humanity, wasn’t going to work out well for a growing child. 

Did you know electromagnetic energy can really fuck up a bank machine? 

Heisenberg (well, Duke) found a reasonable, small cottage on the outskirts of a village in the south of France. He put together a decent little business selling metalwork crafts that were simple (for him) to build, but could sell for high profit. Horses were a bit of a specialty.

Became the local backwoods crazy rural uncle who can fix anything using anything. 

Ethan managed to pull enough strings to buy himself a four hour window while in France for unrelated business to visit Rose for the first time just before she turned three. 

They agreed to meet in a town about an hour south as Ethan had ‘security concerns’. 

ie. He and Chris both doubted Heisenberg’s ability to blend into a crowd. 

To prove a point because he’s a petty bitch, Heisenberg walked Rose past Ethan five times while Ethan was waiting around for them. Ethan only noticed them when Heisenberg said his name. 

Shaving, showering, a haircut, and new clothes can do a lot for a man. 

Rose did not recognize Ethan and was extremely reluctant to speak to him at all. Eventually, she was coaxed into introducing herself as “Rosalie-Elise”. For reasons beyond Heisenberg’s comprehension, this seemed to have a profound emotional effect on Ethan. 

Aside from occasional visits from Ethan (usually every year or two) it was mostly Heisenberg and Rose against the world. 

Duke did roll through, though less frequently than when they were actively fleeing the village. He was incredibly fond of Rose, after all.

Until Rose turned three, Heisenberg largely saw her as a nuisance - something he was obligated to keep alive for his own sake. 

When she was three, and shortly after they settled in the French House, Rose began picking up on Heisenberg’s mannerisms. Speaking like him, sitting like him, trying to mimic everything he did on a smaller scale...

Overnight she went from a nuisance to the apple of his goddamn eye. 

Heisenberg rarely called Rose by her name unless it was serious. More often than not, she’s ‘Kid’ or ‘Blondie’

By the time she started school, Rose could dismantle, repair, and reassemble most standard engines (with a bit of help). She was also shaping up to be a mean little welder.

She also picked up a bad habit of swearing (fortunately, only in English)

Rose was raised speaking French almost exclusively, and her English was heavily accented. Heisenberg learned it with great difficulty, but became fluent by speaking only French for years.

Despite being happier by himself, cut off from other people, Heisenberg deliberately put in the effort to appear as ‘normal’ as possible. 

He never claimed to be Rose’s father - to her or to anyone else. Instead, he called himself her crazy uncle and left the gossip-mongers to come up with a story about her parents. 

Ethan was mockingly referred to as ‘Brother’ every time he called or visited, though. 

When Rose was six, Heisenberg gave her a watered-down version of what happened in the village. 

Watered down for him, at least. 

Rose had nightmares for six months. 

In the midst of that fun time, Ethan gave them a warning that the BSAA was starting to suspect something, so they up and disappeared in one night. 

This pattern continued for years, destroying any chance of Rose having a ‘normal’ childhood. 

Despite that, she developed a startlingly good mindset about things. Influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew up with a tendency towards independence and isolation, with a hell of a lot of self-confidence and pride to boot. She never particularly enjoyed being around other children, even when she had the opportunity. She preferred staying close to Heisenberg whether it was necessary or not. 

Being an obnoxiously touch-motivated brat, Rose spent most of her childhood hanging off his neck, or flopped over his shoulders, or literally hugging him while he was juggling hot metal. Heisenberg gave up caring when she was about four and by the time she was five he didn’t really notice it at all. He often sprawled on the couch just so the kid could nap on him and catch up on sleep. 

After learning the truth about the village, Rose never did sleep particularly well at night - especially not alone in her room. Most nights, Heisenberg would sit next to her bed until she fell asleep. Sometimes even all night. 

Again, likely influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew to dislike Ethan as time wore on. Despite her solid relationship with Heisenberg, most of their arguments were about Rose seeing Ethan. 

Heisenberg understood that their safety relied on Ethan being on good terms with both of them. Rose “didn’t give a fuck”

They reached a compromise eventually that Ethan was only ever promised one hour with Rose. If she wanted to leave after that, it was her choice. Similarly, Heisenberg let her set the boundaries about hugs and calling Ethan her father. 

Needless to say, Ethan stopped getting hugs by the time Rose was ten, and he was never called her dad. 

On the other side of things, Rose adored the Duke just as much as he adored her. Whenever Duke was in their neck of the woods, he made a special point to track them down in order to give Rose extravagant gifts. 

Puberty was a hell of a time.

A hell of a time

Rose manifested a massive amount of power in the span of six months when she was thirteen. Around the same time she discovered her love of girls, teenage rebellion, and sticking it to the man.

During one rip-roaring fight when she was fourteen, Rose sent Heisenberg through not one, nor two, nor even three walls. She sent him through five.

Somehow, that incident was enough to curb the rising tide of teenage hormones and got them both back on track.

Heisenberg always struggled with knowing how much or how little to tell Rose about their predicament. On one hand, Ethan hated the idea and thought it would destroy her entire childhood. On the other hand, Heisenberg disliked the idea of lying to the kid. 

Eventually, circumstances were such that there was no choice but to tell Rose everything in order to stay safe. By the time she was twelve, she had a pretty good idea about everything that had happened in the past. 

Mostly because Ethan assumed he wouldn’t do it, Heisenberg also told her all about himself.

Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly, after so many years) it didn’t change much. She tried to use it as ammunition during a few teenage tantrums, but when she realized it didn’t phase him, it was never really brought up again.