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#Help i'm going to suffocate by anxiety
crepekato-3 · 7 months
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POV:When one of your siblings ate your last favourite snack/Food-
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lmao,This is idea pop up on my mind and these are the 2012 turtels but humans.The AU isnt mine btw!! It belongs to @indieyuugure the Original AU of the 2012 turtels!!! Okey bye peace 🙃✌
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yardsards · 2 years
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any1 else's anxiety get WORSE with most grounding exercises?
#eliot posts#deep breathing ones especially.#i naturally breathe very deeply bc that habit gets ingrained in you if you've played a brass instrument since age 11#and i take deep diaphragm breaths even when i'm anxious#but when i start focussing on my breathing it becomes very difficult#like i straightup forget how to breathe like a normal human being when i'm in that state#so like i can breathe well if i don't think about it but if i start thinking about it i struggle to breathe#and so i get dizzy and lightheaded and start panicking cuz i feel like i'm suffocating#things that make you focus on physical sensations aren't as bad but#they often make me notice the physical symptoms of a panic attack more and then my brain is like#''OH SHIT! WE ARE PANICKING!''#today i tried that thing where you tense and untense your muscles and it took me from normal anxiety to shaking and crying#and then i dry heaved from anxiety from the first time in my life :)))#there's this one thing where you move a little bit of your body at a time that sometimes helps?#idk the name for it but it's basically the same action as the thing youre supposed to do to get out of sleep paralysis#it helps when i get physically paralyzed from the anxiety#freeze response my beloathed <3#and sometimes just going for a run helps if my brain decides to go into flight mode. even if the problem is non tangible.#flight response my slightly less beloathed but still beloathed cuz it fucks up my ability to handle shit#i kinda wish i could have a little bit of a fight response sometimes.#bc like yeah it does sometimes make folks lash out which isn't good for anyone. but sometimes it can make you actually tackle ur issues#alas my fight response got physically beaten out of me when i was younger soooo yeah :///
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lost-and-ephemeral · 7 months
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Could you please do LDS boys +
Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3
HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)
Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die
A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 
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Caleb
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"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."
Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.
He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.
You protected him but got hurt in the process.
He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.
And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.
"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."
Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.
He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.
You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.
It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.
Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.
He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.
Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.
Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.
No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.
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Rafayel
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"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"
Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.
When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.
Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.
Not again. No.
All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.
Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.
He needed to be sure you won't die this time.
And his playful attitude is gone completely.
"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."
He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.
Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.
He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.
I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.
Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.
"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."
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Xavier
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"I failed you."
You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.
You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.
Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.
This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.
Especially when your injuries are so severe.
Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.
With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.
"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."
He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.
Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.
Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.
Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.
As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.
Better safe than sorry.
He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.
Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.
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Zayne
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"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."
Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.
But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.
He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.
And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.
Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.
While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.
Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.
He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.
And he could've lost you.
But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.
And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.
"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."
He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.
Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.
Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.
You can ask him about these little gifts.
And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.
"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"
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arienotari · 9 months
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
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obsessivevoidkitten · 6 months
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At the Movies
Male Alpha Yandere x Transfem Omega Reader
CW: Noncon, extortion, coercion, cum licking, panty sniffing, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, general yandere behavior, musk, pheromones, knotting
Word Count: 866
(I had a dream that this happened to me last night and decided to write it as a story. Not beta read. Sorry for errors. I don't think transfem readers are really catered to that often, so hopefully some people feel represented without feeling fetishized in this. <3)
You were an omega. You had decided to go see a movie by yourself because the theater was playing old classic horror films every night this week. This was the first time since coming out as a trans woman that you had been out in public and you were extremely nervous. You had worked very hard on your makeup and had put on a cute skirt. Though you had a lot of anxiety, you also felt more yourself than you ever had before.
It was a Monday night and still a bit early, so there was no one else viewing the same movie that you were. You picked a good spot to watch from and settled in with your popcorn and drink. After a few good minutes, you felt more and more comfortable, until halfway through the film, you heard someone come in.
You didn't pay the person any attention until they were close enough for you to catch their scent. You recognised who it belonged to immediately. Your stalker, Shaun. He was a persistent alpha who had been after you for months. A total creep who thought you were meant to belong to him.
By the time you could smell him, he was already too close for you to escape. He sat down beside you and grabbed your wrist so you couldn't get away. With his other hand, he muffled your mouth so you couldn't scream. He leaned close, and his scent made you dizzy.
"Sorry I'm late for our date. I had to pick up Mr. Sir Squiggles."
Your blood ran cold. Mr. Sir Squiggles was your beloved hamster. The implication was clear. Stop struggling, or else he'd do something to your pet.
"Don't look so horrified, baby. I'd never hurt our pet. But I have custody, so if you want to see him, you'll have to do what I want with you and move in with me."
Shaun sounded so smug. He knew he had finally won. His romantic advances had failed, so why not keep your pet hostage? You cried silently and nodded so he knew you understood what you had to do. He released you from his grip and pulled you close with his arm around you. His pheromones were suffocating, and you could smell how aroused he was.
After a while, he noticed you shaking with nervousness but misinterpreted it as you being cold.
"You look cold, here~"
"N-no I'm fine." You sputtered.
He ignored you and draped you in his sweaty jacket. It did nothing to soothe your anxiety though his musl did make your body betray you in a humiliating fashion. Your cock was hard and slick was starting to leak from your ass. He could smell it as soon as it happened.
"Well I was going to wait until we got home, but if my girl needs it now, I'd be neglectful if I said no."
The tip of his cock was already visible poking out the leg of his shorts as he reached under your skirt and rubbed your soft thighs before ripping off your panties. He brought the tattered underwear to his nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing it into his pocket for later. You had to suppress the urge to run away and just let it happen.
Shaun pulled his shorts down enough for his eager prick to bounce free. Then he hitched up your skirt and pulled you on his lap, lowering you on his length in one smooth motion.
"I fit so well~ you were made for my cock."
You whimpered but he shushed you and kissed up your neck.
"Shhh, relax. Just watch your movie and enjoy my cock."
You tried to focus on the movie, to focus on anything but this gross violation. But it was impossible with him sliding so deeply into you while claiming, biting, and kissing your sensitive neck over and over. Je began to gently stroke your weeping cock. You couldn't help but moan softly as his knot swelled and brought you to orgasm. Your insides clenched and throbbed around his dick and finally made him drain his balls into you. He took the cum you spilled into his hand and smeared it on your lips before licking it off.
Shaun held you tight in his lap while waiting for his knot to stop swelling so that the two of you could uncouple. You panted and blankly watched the film while not really watching it as your head was overloaded with all that had just transpired. Occasionally, Shaun would kiss your neck gently or rub your legs in what he thought was a soothing manner.
Every once in a while, he'd whisper praise softly into your ear.
"You're so good at taking me."
"You look so pretty in a skirt."
"You're such a good girl."
When the movie ended, and when his knot decided to dislodge itself from your rear, Shaun led you out of the theater and into his car, cum slowly dripping down your legs the entire time. You were a mess, but too numb to really pay attention or care, but that was okay. Your new alpha boyfriend would take care of you.
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sleepyangelkami · 4 months
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could you do Carl reacting to you saying ur safe word?💕💕
SAFETY BLANKET c.grimes
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K
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CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER
 ☆ SUMMARY - during a time filled with vulnerability, everything becomes too much. luckily your safety blanket isn't going anywhere.
 ☆ WARNINGS - sexual themes, slight smut in beginning, use of safeword, crying, swearing, aged-up characters, use of good girl (not sexual), anxiety, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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there had to be something so seriously wrong with you.
that was the only viable answer you could give yourself for the uncomfortableness settled in your lower stomach that should have been filled with pleasure. a moment spent with your boyfriend that should have meant so much. and yet you'd never been so distant.
you didn't know what was wrong, truthfully.
one thing you'd known well was where carl stood. at least, you hoped his opinion hadn't changed since before. he always said that if there was something wrong, he'd stop. he didn't need a reason or answer, utter one simple word and it was over for the both of you. he'd maneuver you back to the bed and assure you that he wasn't angry, he'd never be angry. not with you, at least.
so why did you find yourself not wishing to utter such a simple word?
on the very tip of your tongue, reaching out, practically begging to be yelled. what was wrong? you didn't know. you didn't know. and frustration was building up in your throat, almost tears building in your eyes.
skin on fire, eyes burning. how could you feel so horrible and yet not muster the single word you needed to stop it all at once.
perhaps it was the worry that he wouldn't think of you as the 'good girl' he always did, always wishing to please him. and carl? well, he'd taken to your stiff posture at first but once you laid back, seemingly relaxed for him he took no notice of it.
how could he? none of this was his fault.
whether or not you didn't feel good, it had nothing to do with your boyfriend who lay atop of you, pressing his weight onto you. it was suffocating, but that didn't mean it was his fault. yet as the word reached your tongue, you worried if that was what he'd think.
everything was too much, you simply couldn't handle it anymore.
so instead of a long string of moans falling from your mouth, the so simple, so detrimental, word "strawberry." fell instead.
it was almost devastating how quickly he froze, how quickly your eyes began to burn insufferably.
you thought of a thousand words that could have left his lips. "shit." was the first he'd thought of. "i'm gonna... fuck― i'm gonna pull out of you now, okay?"
despite your teary eyes, you'd managed to nod your head almost frantically. the minute the word fell from your lips it was as if you wished for nothing more than the entirety of the moment to be over. you wanted to cry, swallow yourself whole beneath your own pretty pink bed sheets. instead, you lay beneath him with burning eyes in his own sweaty blue bed sheets.
the minute he backed away from you, giving you room, the tears started all over again. you hoisted yourself up so quickly, fishing around for your clothes while you sniffled, trying to suck up the cries that didn't wish to leave you.
he watched as you grasped his t-shirt, not your own, trying to flip it the back way around. he watched wondering if he could step in.
he was the very one who put the safeword in it's use, he gave it to you so that if there was ever a time you'd need it, you could use it. yet it'd never happened before, he was a little worried on making the wrong mistake for the second time that night, pushing you over your limits again.
he probably should have asked could he touch you, were you comfortable with his body so close to yours. but as you struggled to flip the t-shirt to the way it should be, he couldn't help but reach his soft fingertips out.
they touched yours quickly, causing startled, tear-filled eyes to snap up. "hey, hey, 's okay, baby." taking the t-shirt from your hands, gently setting it down on the bed. "'s okay, take your time."
a sudden realisation that you didn't have to cover yourself up so quickly, shun yourself away from him.
so instead of turning your face, refusing to look at the boy, you practically threw yourself into his arms.
without uttering a word, the boy took you. it was easy to hold you at a time like this, shaking while muffling your cries into the shirt on his shoulder. it was easy to provide comfort because it was all he wanted to do. it wasn't easy to watch you like this, hear your muffled cries.
guilt wracked at his bones. "you wanna tell me what happened?" knowing it was something he'd done. he'd made the effort to talk in a low voice, making sure he wouldn't startle you any more than he had already. "huh?" his nose nudged at your cheek, making your face finally leave sanctuary.
gazing straight forward, you could see his face, brows knit together and strewn up, a look of guilt plain and simple against his features. could you possibly feel more awful? "'m sorry." voice cracking as though you were but a mere child.
a different look fell across his face, almost one of agony.
the mere thought of you thinking it'd been your fault.
"hey, hey." fingers moving to grasp at your face, holding you so that you were looking at him. "don't apologise to me, pretty girl, this isn't your fault. 'm so proud of you."
brows knitting together, evident confusion washing over you as you tilted your head up to the boy. "you are?" surprise clean in your voice.
"'course i am, sweet girl." he settled you so that you could rest against his lap as comfortably as you could, despite the fact you were both still nude. "did what i told you to do, it felt wrong so you told me. would have been wrong if you didn't, yeah? 'was such a good girl."
with a sniffle, your eyes cast down to your hands, playing with your fingers as you tried to settle the anxiety in your chest. carl did that better than playing with your fingers ever did. "you're not mad?" voice low.
"no." his nose nudged against your cheek again, he sounded so sure of himself. "no, never mad."
voice cracking once more, ever so softly. "promise?"
his lips curled gently. "i promise." his fingers rubbed against your sides, soothing the slightly bruised skin from his fingers digging into them only moments before. "you need anything, sweetheart? some water? a bath?"
a mere shake of your head was enough. your cheek gently placed itself against his chest, listening to the patter of his heartbeat. it was the kind of thing you never wanted to stop listening to, as soothing as it could get. "jus' wanna be with you."
"'s what we'll do then, 'kay?" the boy wrapped you in a clean shirt, not the one you'd been fumbling with before. this one was white and smelled of linen, he then placed a clean pair of his boxers on you, dressing himself in almost the very same thing before tucking you into bed.
carl didn't need sex. sex was a plus when it came to you. but truthfully, he'd go his entire lifetime without it if it meant he could hold you like this every single night. your head against the crook of his neck, breathing through your mouth and not your clogged nose. your eyes red but softly fluttering as his fingers gathered strands of hair, gently playing with them.
the soft sound of your gentle laughter as the tv in front of you both played, some old dvd he'd found on a run that he just knew you'd like.
he couldn't help but stare, a breathtaking view so close to him. he must have been something as good as an angel in his past life to deserve this, he was sure of it. "'m so proud of you." he kept repeating the phrase, hoping one day you'd understand just how proud he was.
and as the light dimmed, tv gently playing at a low volume, you'd almost fallen asleep. almost without saying the most important words. "carl?" glancing his head down to you. "i love you."
smiling ever so softly. "i love you." pressing the gentlest kisses to your head. "now get some sleep."
you slept good that night, knowing you'd been so stupid to think carl would ever get angry with you, especially over something as simple as that. on the contrary, he'd been happy.
you didn't need a safe word, a simple "no." would have done it for you both. carl didn't care, as long as you had your safety blanket at the end of the night, wrapping around him as though he were the trunk of a tree.
he couldn't complain, he was holding practical gold in his hands.
if he really was, you could call him a hoarder. he wouldn't trade you out for anything else in the world.
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anantaru · 2 years
Text
— telling him “we need to talk”
including childe, gorou, alhaitham, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, childe's part is a bit sad, we‘re evil, they're panicking
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— childe
"oh! and one last thing." you pause, luring a deep gulp of air through your snagged throat, "can you come over tonight? we need to talk."
correspondingly, childe groggily rubbed his eyes and frowned at the wearisome remembrance of your previous accursed encounter— it just couldn't leave him alone, that constricted gruff of panic.
the words you had spoken out earlier were continuing to peskily repeat themselves through his psyche, again and again— like a virus progressively taking over its host— and it did, wretchedly slow, even after he finished a couple more salient tasks of his work.
did something happen between you both? or did he unintentionally do something he should be aware of but isn't?
nowadays, he had been abundantly occupied with carrying on the crucial duties as the eleventh fatui harbinger, essentially the befalling of the various nations all around teyvat in search of the enigmatic gnosis.
consequently, ajax would go on about balancing his private life together with his work in a notably strategic way. He had always made it a habit to keep the serious out of your relationship, though now he was debating wether or not that was your last straw.
because you see, ajax was convinced you'd actually dump him tonight.
so, well, under those circumstances, yeah, it's fine, he's fine, or wasn't he? after all he couldn't force you to stay, maybe, he's joking, perhaps.
he gave himself a second to rewind his rational thinking in search of a breakout from this state of affairs but instead, a rising silence befell his mind and he couldn't concentrate for the life of him.
by that means, childe was inordinately nervous and a dizzying sense of anxiety had been manifesting from inside out— his breathing too, had become nimble, he felt as if someone had been suddenly suffocating him with a giant plastic bag over his head.
and then presently, there he was.
without a way to escape he was soon trapped in between the door and your body when he closed it shut behind him. You had made him follow you to the living room— your face, without a doubt, undisturbed and calculative which didn't make the appalling situation any better, due to this action his dreadful judgment prevailed over him much more unyielding.
he began to hatch a plot; because if he manipulates his emotions good enough while bamboozling himself over and over that he was in fact, okay, he'll maybe not suffer from an integral cardiac arrest after this blood curdling conversation.
for a brief period of time childe had been wholly iced to the ground, awaiting your voice. You turned around to face him, silence, a long and grueling five seconds of unbroken staring when you in confusion, pucker your brows together, "what's with you?"
he was overcome by a flat sense of both irritation and surprise at how casual you sounded, "w— what?" childe didn't mean to stutter out his words like that, but his voice was still distressfully stricken.
"you seem sick." you note, directly holding your hand towards his face to keep it on top of his forehead, a flicker of concern eroding inwardly, childe winced at that and he bleeds into your touch, it was alleviating and he missed it, "no fever."
your apprehensive tone faded when you hastened to follow up your words, "i'm glad, because there's this thing i need your help with." you press yourself into his body, "it's a present for a family member." with your lips instantly split into a humane smile, you settled to tease him, ruffling his hair a bit.
childe thought this had to be some kind of metaphysical fantasy he had been trapped in the moment he entered your home, could he be hallucinating or did dottore really mix something into his orange juice earlier?
one of the first couple skills he had learned in the fatui was to always keep a clear head, yet right now he didn't have the time to even recompose himself nor did he realize that he‘s been standing in front of you without moving an inch— it‘s as if he was currently deciphering a difficult secret riddle in his mind and wholly forgot about your presence.
ultimately, you had caught up on the panic and the unintentional perpetual twitch in his eyes, "hey." a sigh of relief, so soft yet it brought him to tears, he felt your hand shelter his once more, the tone on his face grew a bit lower and delicate— a little more allayed.
without trying to conceal his worry now, childe responds clearly to you, "i thought i did something." he blurted out— barely, his throat was still clenched and a continuing dread thudded in his heart.
his eyes widened and a light bead of sweat formed just above his browbone. The thought that you might‘ve broken up with him vehemently churned and wrecked a deep havoc in his gut, it almost had him see white of terror.
you saw the glint of fear— the panic, and closed the distance of your bodies, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close, "you didn‘t." the sound of your voice seized his heart and he breathed out a shaking heave.
"because you‘re perfect to me."
as an instinctive counter, his eyes squinted a little of a bigger smile and a shadow of boundless solace stamped in his veins. effectively, he can breathe easily now— be that as it may but for childe to purely envision a skid second without you by his side hurt him so much, if the control of his body hadn't been as well trained by him as it was, he'd tremble into your enfold.
"i‘m sorry." you patted his warm, rosy cheek with a kiss, "i didn't mean to make you feel this way." the tepidity of your eyes felt like the sun buzzing on a sweet summer day, "don't apologize." he stated and swallowed hard, returning your hug.
"i love you." he's leaning his face against your head and closed his eyes shut, "i love you too, ajax." a tear— just one, was then glissading down his cheek at your well spoken words, .
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— gorou
"gorou, we need to talk, i finally made up my mind."
talk about what? the great weather on watasumi island?
meanwhile gorou nearly lost what little self restraint he had left in his soul— his right ear repeatedly twitching and serving as a bodily response. However, the way he had acknowledged the teeny tiny letter in his hand in the first place— with the disreputable words frumpily scrabbled on top of it with a black pencil, was largely concerning, he realized.
gorou didn't move for a couple seconds and remained by his own company— in silence, now his eyes grew a tone darker, because he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach, precisely the lower area, a stormy tornado of panic exuberantly nagging on the base of his spine.
what was it that he did because there must've been something he had to mess up if you're handling the situation in that precise way.
fundamentally speaking, (and that was the most irritating component in this whole situation) for you, to not say it out right away but rather have a hand written letter sent over to his office— it's ambiguous, everything turned out to be like a complete mess and he was a part of it.
to say he was both bewildered and crushed combined into one heavy ball of perplexing emotions was a restrained statement. Because truthfully, he was on the brink of a mental breakdown, his face was now hiding in his palms while he leaned further into the desk.
"it's over." he's talking under his own breathing, "that must be the case!"
if you have figured out one thing about your boyfriend— it was that he had a habit of talking to himself whenever he was pressurized by an crucial mission or something was simply bothering him.
he (himself) stated that it was an eminent way of analyzing his scattered thoughts and bring down all meaningless components should there be any at hand.
having said that, you would mentally applaud him because gorou was a genius, it was a great way— while not the one that would be of any need to him right now.
he decided to go all out and search for you— from his perspective, there wasn't any other way. Gorou had previously decoded that you must've been at your home by now, his work wasn't far off anyways so he could show up any time— yet unannounced but this was an emergency, he noted.
for gorou there wasn't anything more important than his relationship with you, it was a part he'd protect vigorously, yet if you were to dump him tonight, that's a different story because then he wouldn't know what to do nor how to retaliate.
considering that, he had been vastly comfortable with you to the point that he simply cannot envision a life without you by this side.
so, yes, maybe that's why he was so tense and anxious moving forward to your home. Little does he realize it wasn't quite how he had imagined it because truth was, gorou didn't do anything wrong.
you see, for a while now, you had been greatly pondering with the thought on your living situation, after all, you had been a couple for a long time and moving in together was the next designated step to be taken.
resultantly you had talked about this with gorou, yet only once and the timing wasn't the best either. If it was for him, he had long since forgotten it, in any other occasion he was a great listener and infallibly did his best to memorize whatever important topic you had to say to him.
but as an automatic result of the miscommunication taking place, gorou had visualized how he thought the conversation would end up, it being with you dumping him for good.
on the other side of the coin there was you, so very happy you could barely wait to tell him that you want to finally approach the next step and move in together.
the moment you let him into your home, you, as always, you greeted him with a kind hug which caught him completely off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting it. You knew your boyfriend very much, so when you saw him in the composition he was currently in, you almost gasped out loud by the terror.
his eyes were sunken and he seemed a bit pale, his ears too, were pointing downwards and that frown on him— together with his ragged breathing made you realize that something wasn't on their designated place. "hey." you approach him gently, "did something happen at work?"
his muscles stiffed and he thought about the words he had planned out to say, repeatedly they had thudded into his skull but nothing arose off his throat. You watched him closely and his gaze softened when you decided to hug him once more, this time with your lips ghosting over his ears, "it's okay, you're home now gorou."
"home?" granted, he couldn't place any fault on you for his own too quick thinking or his habits of jumping to conclusion when it came to this relationship, gorou wasn't the most experienced in that peculiar department after all. "our— our home?!"
"yes!" you're quick to show your happiness to him, your eyes glowing with brilliant shades of delight.
"that's what i wanted to talk about, i was busy preparing everything so Ii couldn't visit you in person." you fleetly pecked his cheek, "i hope it was okay to send a letter instead."
gorou was stunned— bewildered, he thought his ears fell off. "wait." he's taking both of your hands in his to make you stare at him, "this it what you wanted to talk about all along?" your brow ploddingly arose at his way of speech, because you were still very much clueless about it all.
"what did you think i was going to say?" at this rate, your conversation would never end anytime soon. gorou fidgetily scratched his neck before he chirped his words out in a blabbering draw no one but you was able to discern.
"oh nothing special, ijustthoughtyourebreakingupwithme." you were rendered speechless— lost of words and you placed a mental sticker in the deepest ends of your brain to get better at spelling things out more clear.
your eyes formed of sadness and you felt bad, trying to soothe your boyfriend in your own ways, "why would i?" you humorously squeezed his cheeks in a strive to delete his troubled expression, smiling in a loving kind, "i'd never do that, ever."
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— alhaitham
beyond the shadow of a doubt, becoming the acting grand sage was an astonishingly tedious task for alhaitham to take— and he did not look forward to it.
unquestionably it was apparent that he wouldn't potentially have as much time for you as he previously had when he was the akademiya's renowned scribe. In spite of his new occupation, you undeniably had supported him throughout the first stages as much as you could.
but, lets say, you had felt a bit neglected lately— or to state said emotion in a contrasting light, you were in need of some much required attention from your boyfriend, plain and simple. Of course— and this usually goes without saying but it's not like alhaitham did it on purpose because, by all means, he didn't.
there wasn't anything he'd like to do as much as leisurely resting on his cozy bed with you by his side, cushily enclosed in your arms while you play with his hair and talking about all kinds of topics at hand.
with it becoming worse, it followed that he rarely had time to come over for dinner anymore, sure, you had your own duties to be taken care of but you missed him so so dearly and weren't sure how else to get him to move his unwavering attention from his work to your sweet frame again.
though your approach seemed a bit evil, you realized. but wasn't your creative thinking one of the reasons alhaitham had fallen in love with you in the first place?
to accurately get your plan in motion, you had sent an overly prettily framed letter to his new office— you added your favorite symbols to the paper and used your best-loved colors to have it cross your boyfriends keen eyes the second it would land on his desk.
under those circumstances you had impatiently began to wait at your place for him to get to you. And he did see your letter glowing in midst all the important papers on his desk, bedazzled by your most dearest decorations.
alhaitham slanted his head a bit to the left when he caught a glimpse of it eventually— he was a bit puzzled at first because whenever you did require his cooperation you'd just show up in person. But then again, in recent times he had his hands full of work and you arguably wouldn't even meet him to begin with.
his fingers gingerly opened the fine letter to scrutinize the words at hand, "we need to talk, it's about us."
he was taken aback, very, and caught off balance. He didn't view you as someone who'd send cryptic messages like that one in particular. Alhaitham distressfully rubbed his eyes and placed the letter on his desk above all the other workloads he had gotten delivered today.
upon that, he leaned into the broad armchair and careened his head back, closing his eyes. In that peculiar state he might potentially arrange and categorize his thoughts more coherent. The last thing he would've wanted now was to have your relationship suffer because of his current job.
first, it's dreary, second, it would throw him off completely.
while alhaitham had a dozen more work to finish before he could routinely head home, he decided to go to your place instead to talk it out. In his opinion, pushing back a much needed conversation would only elude his rational thinking skills by a huge mountain of precious time. it would've been obtuse for him to not handle this.
deep wrinkles were forming around his brows when he knocked on your door, his eyes fixated with worry but also irritation. On the flip side alhaitham was also concerned that something might've happened to you without him being aware of it.
another knock and you had lastly opened the door to your home, with a pseudo sad frown on your lips, maybe that was your ticket to great evilness because you did feel a bit wicked for tricking your poor, overworked boyfriend like that.
he doesn't say much, a dreadful silence of a couple minutes had surrounded the atmosphere and the inches in between your frames. A direct steady approach hadn't been found before he decided to speak at last, though heedful. "i saw your letter." he remarked through a clenched jaw.
"you did?" you slowly turned around and simulated to shuffle something out of a drawer in your kitchen— pretending to make a cup of tea for you both. "yes, i did." alhaitham might be many things, but he wasn't stupid, he knew something wasn't adding up, at all.
at first note, there was your body responses, despite your d class acting skills you were still showing emotions that weren't classified as sad nor angered. Second, it felt as if you didn't even know what to say, more thoroughly did you appear to just like him being here because why else were you settling a cup of tea and would you look at this, a few pastries he was sure were freshly bought.
"do you want me to applaud to you?" his voice was dry but despite that it harvested a glint of humor, "for this performance, i mean."
you bit down on the mushy insides of your cheeks before turning around, "i don't know what you're talking about." there you stood with an empty cup in your hand when he resoluted to walk towards you, haltering himself when he reached your body. "you wanted to talk." his hand finds your cheek and banteringly nudges it, "then talk."
you avert your gaze to recollect your thinking, because truthfully you did not expect him to catch onto it that fast— plus, you could also say you didn't think too far ahead into the future as on what to do once he's actually there.
"okay, okay." you dramatically throw your hands in the air, "i pretended to be mad so you'd show up." silence, "because i missed you." before you could hide the embarrassment with your hands alhaitham had swiftly bolstered one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest, "I know."
"can you blame me though?" you tried to explain yourself through your shy smiles which he had found so so very adorable, "you're never home." you lay your cheek against his warm chest to reply with a cuddle back and alhaitham sighed out when he beheld your distressfulness— how much he longed for his calm days to return.
"i know." he idly pawed his hand over your spine, "i can't wait to be the scribe again." you quietly shake with laugher at his words, the sides of your lips creasing up, "though i have to admit." you suddenly state while blinking up into his multi colored eyes, "saying my boyfriend is the grand sage doesn't sound that bad."
he's amusingly shook his head and found himself deeply connected in your arms— though being wary of the entire settling of today, alhaitham's sadness resigned back into him, he realizing that the last time he had held you just like this had have been a long time ago.
for this, he couldn't wait to get back to his usual, comfortable life with you again because no matter which position he'd take in the akademiya, he'd never want to place you second under it because it was you who truly gave new meaning to his life.
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— scaramouche
working in the shadows had been something scaramouche was practicing his entire life, he‘s as fast-moving as the wind, a split second and he was gone, poof, unforeseen and brief.
substantially, you weren‘t quite sure what made you reach the conclusion to perpetually poke your finger into his hardiness, over and over— to sweetly aggravate him because it’s fun. especially when he had gotten back to you after a long, monotonous day full of his duties to fulfill.
on the assumption that nothing was wrong, kuni, as in any other circumstance, had saddled back into the couch with you next to him— actively observing how you’re casually paging through a couple letters in your hand.
"hey." in the pitch of his voice alone you were capable to discern the fatigue in his body— he must‘ve been especially hard working tonight.
"put the book away." undoubtedly, it was that time of the day again, scaramouche required your unwavering attention because if you aren't handing it over to him right this second, he'd become actually ballistic and sullen, waiting until you notice.
"hm." you do not say much, pretending to have something critical crossing your current state of mind, "what do you mean hm?" he's peeved by your behavior— despite that it piqued his interest.
you evidently weren't drained or disgruntled by his presence, at least he thought you weren't, "is this more important than i am?" scaramouche loftily pointed towards the book in your hand which you then, meteorically closed.
"there is something—" you do not dare to look into his permeating eyes, being panicky stricken you might blow your cover in front of him. Kuni had a way of heeding every so little change in both the articulation in your voice and face.
"there is something we need to talk about— about us."
scaramouche didn't buy it, not even once, you were too perceptible and easy to detect.
what was there to talk about when nothing happened, in the morning you seemed fine, you even gave him a goodbye kiss when he left for work. "really now?" he's sharpening his eyes on you, his chin held up high to throw you off the high in your conversation and most pivotally, to make you all jittery so you‘d eventually slip up.
"yes." you outstandingly flumped back into the velvety cushions of your couch, "we're just so different." - "no we're not." he was right there to cut you off, giving you no room to breathe while also slouching closer to your frame so you‘d look at him.
without beating around the bush, scaramouche decided to play this game with you, though in his eyes, he was way better at this than you could ever be, "but we are." now coming across at him through distinct eyes, you sealed your lips together so you wouldn‘t suddenly burst out laughing.
in a wink of an eye he had edged himself so near to you— with only being a mere couple inches away from banging your heads together, "are you playing games again?" he really wanted to know it now, fundamentally, scaramouche was captivated by this— he never loses and this side of yours would never bore him, not even once.
"maybe." you blurt out bluntly, affectionately wiggling the tip of your nose against his own, "you're a menace." he rolls his eyes and pulls away. with how swift you were to follow him, you put your legs over his lap so you‘d be dotingly enclosed into one another. "don't do that again."
sweet scaramouche— what he didn't show you was that he in actuality shared a concern in result of your behavior. All things considered he was aware you were kidding to rally him up. He thinks your skills were amateurish at best, whimsical, he hoped you were practicing your acting to once really catch him off guard.
"it's so fun though." you brusquely admitted to him with a candid smile while venturing to case your arms around his neck.
if only he wasn‘t so utterly compelled by you he‘d actually be mad for once, yet he only puffs out a warm heave, "i'll get you back for this."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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dreamescapeswriting · 7 months
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Stray Kids Reaction || You Fidget A Lot
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PAIRING: Skz X GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
In the crowded room of a bustling party, you find yourself feeling completely overwhelmed. You'd agreed to come to the party with your boyfriend who knew everyone and you were now alone in the corner. You felt so unwanted and you began to pick at your fingers, trying to blend into the background but the room felt so suffocating to be in. The noise of the music was deafening and only added to the torment going on in your mind.
From across the room, Chan spotted you in distress instantly, he'd been trying to get back to you for a while now but his friends were talking his ear off but seeing you so anxious he just walked away from them.
"Hey, you're okay, I got you," Chan whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, your whole body turning into his embrace and buried your face in his chest.
"I'm sorry," You hated yourself for ruining tonight for him
"Don't be, let's go outside for some air," He suggested as he started to walk with you, tears running down your cheek as he rubbed small circles into your back.
Once you were outside and away from the chaos of the party you finally felt as though you could breathe again.
"You can go back in...I'll catch a cab home or something," You mumbled but Chan pulled you tighter against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back,
"We'll go home together, you're anxious and I want to be here for you," He told you as he kept you close to him. The overwhelming anxiety began to ebb away and was replaced by a feeling of calm and security.
MINHO:
"Hey jitterbug," Minho teased watched you, the two of you were having a date in a cafe only you hadn't known it was going to be this busy when you agreed to come. Now you were so anxious that you were drumming your fingers on the table as well as your leg bouncing.
"What's got you so wound up?" He teased, reaching across to poke your hand gently, you smiled a little at him.
"Just anxious I guess," You mumbled. You hadn't gone into much detail with Minho about your anxiety, you were nervous about it since many people had called you dramatic in the past or had made fun of you for it.
"Relax, it's just some coffee. Nothing to be nervous about, I promise." He said but as he studied you more closely he began to notice the tension in your shoulders and the way you picked at your sleeve, the teasing grin he had once been wearing suddenly wiped from his face.
"Are you okay?" His voice was softer now and laced with genuine worry.
"I'm trying to be, but...I-It's just-" You didn't even have to finish your sentence before Minho was sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around you.
"I'm sorry...I didn't realise," He knew anxiety when he saw it, his best friend struggled with it too.
"You don't have to hide it from me. I'm here for you, no matter what." Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him, no one had ever been there for you like this and you were so grateful to have someone who accepted it.
"Thanks, I'm sorry I'm so fidgety, I just...I can't seem to calm myself down." You admitted, Minho squeezed you softly giving you a reassuring smile.
"Then allow me to help, okay?" You nodded at him, watching as he began to take in some deep breaths, making you copy him.
"It's just me and you right now, and if anyone else comes along I'll fight," He winks at you and you giggle a little through your deep breathing.
"You're allowed to feel anxious, so long as you know I'm here to support you through it, okay?" He waited for you to nod before he continued breathing with you, getting you to focus on him or things outside of the window instead of what was happening in the cafe. 
The longer you sat there you felt a weight lifting from your shoulders as you relaxed into Minhos' embrace, knowing that with him by your side you could do anything.
CHANGBIN:
Your fingers twisted in your lap as you glanced around nervously, staring at all of the different passengers on the plane who didn't seem fazed by the turbulence the plane was experiencing.
"Yn," Changbin whispered, his hand reaching out to yours. You forced a tight smile onto your lips as you focused on looking out of the window. You hadn't mentioned it to him before but you were extremely nervous about planes. But they set off your anxiety more than anything else.
"We're okay. It's just a bit of wind," He promised as he turned your head to look at him, squeezing your hand reassuringly and offering you a comforting smile.
"It's alright to be anxious but as long as you know you're not alone in it." He smiled bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"I'm right here beside you." He told you as he smiled, Changbin was your little glimmer of hope that everything was okay. You always thought that with him you could do anything. 
"You're doing great, just focus on your breathing and remember I'm here with you," He whispered in your ear, your eyes shutting as you tried to focus on breathing and the way his hand felt in yours.
As the flight continued Changbin never left your side, offering you constant comfort and support, even distracting you with stories and jokes, doing everything in his power to ease your anxiety just that little bit more until the plane finally touched down. 
"I couldn't have done that without you," You breathed out as you finally got into the airport, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he promised to do that for you whenever you needed it.
HYUNJIN:
You were sat in one of the fanciest restaurants you'd ever been in, at an elegant dinner table with Hyunjin's parents and you couldn't stop your leg from bouncing up and down, a clear sign that your anxiety was getting the better of you. Hyunjin waited until his parents were talking among themselves before he turned his full attention to you, he placed his hand on your knee giving it a small squeeze.
"Is this all too much?" He whispered, he knew you'd been anxious about the dinner but you promised him you'd be okay. Now all he wanted to do was take you home and comfort you all night.
"I'm sorry...I-I just- I feel anxious," You admitted, your stomach twisted as you looked at him. Without hesitating he leaned closer to you, holding your hands in his.
"You're doing great, okay? Just take some deep breaths with me," You nodded, your shoulders sagging a little with relief from his words. You took in some deep and steady breaths at the same time as Hyunjin and he smiled gently applying a steady pressure to your leg to calm your nerves. Hyunjin's parents glanced over at you both,
"Yn, Hyunjin, we're both so happy you're here. Let's relax and enjoy the evening." His mother suggested, Hyunjin had briefly mentioned your anxiety to her and they wanted you to have a nice evening.
Hyunjin's attention was still on you as he whispered words of encouragement, silently letting you know he was there for you now and always. 
As the night grew on, your fidgeting gradually subsided, replaced with a sense of calm and happiness as you got to know your boyfriend's family more.
JISUNG:
Jisung watched you as you nervously tapped your foot on the floor, bounced your leg up and down and even started to pick at your clothes. The two of you were sitting in your living room together trying to unwind from the day but he could clearly see your anxiety was playing up.
"You anxiety acting up, again?" He asked gently, reaching out and gently rubbing your back. You nodded, your eyes downcast as you bit on your lip.
"It's been a rough day and I can't seem to calm down." You admitted before Jisung gently squeezed your shoulder got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a bag.
"I am prepared this time," He smirked, a hint of excitement in his voice as he dropped down beside you on the bed. You took the bag he was holding out to you and peeked inside, your mouth turning up into a small smile.
"You did this?" You smiled looking at him before looking back into the bag. It was an assortment of fidget toys, stress balls, a spinner ring, a textured cube and so many more things,
"I figured they'd be better to fidget with," He smiled seeing you so happy about everything, he'd been looking online for the best toys and collected them all for you.
"Thank you," You sniffled a little, taking out one of the stress balls and squeezing it tightly in your hand,
"You always know how to take care of me," Your voice broke a little and Jisung pulled you into a gentle hug,
"I love you, and I'll do anything I can to support you." He smiled as the two of you sat there in the comfort of your living room while you explored all of your new fidget toys.
FELIX:
Felix poured you a cup of tea and then watched you closely. The two of you were at your favourite cafe together and it had been a while since the two of you had gone out which was why Felix had planned this. But he knew there was something bothering you, you'd been overly cautious of everything that morning and even now, your eyes were darting around the room as if you were looking for an escape and he instantly knew what was going on. You were nervously picking at the skin around your fingers, your brows furrowed together,
"Yn, you're okay," He whispered. Your fingers froze mid-motion and you forced a smile onto your face,
"I-I'm fine, just a little anxious." You admitted, Felix shuffled to be on the seat beside you, gently covering your hand with his own.
"You don't have to hide it from me, Yn. I know you're struggling but I'm right here," He whispered to you, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at him. Everyone in the past has merely teased you for fidgeting a lot or made rude comments about it.
"I-It's just, my anxiety...it gets the better of me sometimes and I can't stop picking at my fingers," Felix's heart ached at the sight of your distress, he knew your struggles and all he wanted to do was help you.
"We're in this together, we're okay." He promised you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him.
"We're at our favourite place, drinking our favourite drinks and relaxing." He smiled at you, your head resting on his shoulder as you felt your heart rate slowing down. Felix took in some deep breaths with you and you slowly felt the tightness in your chest gradually loosen.
"Thanks, Lix," You whispered, but he shook his head at you, he didn't need you to thank him for doing something he wanted to do.
"I love you, Yn, and I'll always be here to hold your hand, no matter what." He told you before you kissed him softly.
SEUNGMIN:
This was supposed to be a casual night in with friends and yet you found yourself fidgeting beside your boyfriend, your fingers drumming nervously on your thigh and then adjusting the sleeves of your sweating.
"You can't ever sit still, can you?" Felix meant it as a joke but the way his tone came out it sounded as though he was annoyed at you. Seungmin's eyes dated to his friend as he felt a surge of anger rising in him. He took in a deep breath trying to keep his composure, shooting Felix a warning glare.
"It's okay," Seungmin whispers to you as he places his hand over yours carefully and rubs your skin softly.
"You're safe here and Felix was just teasing, you know how he is." He whispered to you, Felix's face flushed a little as he realised what was happening and he instantly wanted to kick himself.
"Yn, I'm so sorry."
"It's not as if Felix doesn't have weird habits," Chan chimed in with a smirk,
"We all have our quirks, nothing wrong with that." Seungmin finished as he wrapped his arm around you, cuddling into you tightly.
"I've got you," He reassured you, your shoulders relaxing a little as you felt a little of your anxiety lift ever so slightly. For the rest of the evening, Seungmin kept a close eye on you, watching for any signs of fidgeting so he could take you home if it got too bad.
JEONGIN:
Jeongin watched you closely, you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisted the fabric in small, nervous movements. The two of you had gone out for a small walk together and were taking a break on the park bench. 
"Hey, baby, is everything alright?" His voice was laced with concern as he stared at you. You looked at him, your eyes quickly darting around before finally meeting his gaze. You smiled a little but he knew it wasn't a real smile.
"Fine...Just feeling a little anxious I guess," You hated that you were feeling so anxious, you'd gone on this walk a million times with Jeongin but there was something about today that made you a little more anxious than usual.
Jeongin nodded, moving closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he knew about your struggle with anxiety and he wasn't going to let you go through this alone.
"You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever Is bothering you, I'm here for you." You leaned into his embrace, your hands stilling as you relaxed against him.
"Everything feels overwhelming right now, I can't even keep up with my own thoughts," You mumbled, and Jeongin tightened his grasp around you.
"I get it. But remember, you don't have to face it alone. I'm here to help you carry the weight, even if it's just by listening to you." You smiled up at him, a small sigh leaving your lips as you relaxed against him. 
"I don't know what I'd do without you." You snuggled into him and with each passing moment your breathing steadied and your anxiety loosened its grip on you.
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lvrdrafts · 1 year
Text
No Time To Lose
Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped
Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture
Part 1 Part 3
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Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.
One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.
However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.
Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.
Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?
Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."
Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."
Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?
But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.
That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.
The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.
Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.
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Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.
"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"
"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock
Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.
He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.
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A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.
That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.
However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.
As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.
Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.
You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.
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lokiswifeduh · 7 months
Text
can’t help but drown
pairings: Bucky x fem!reader
summary: the past few months you think you have a handle on your anxiety. but after a silent panic attack in the bathtub, Bucky is there to pull you out.
warnings: panic attack, anxiety, feeling helpless, feelings of suffocation, ANGST!!!
The water moved in soft ruffles around you. Not quite making waves, however, moving from how your anxious legs swayed the water.
Shallow breaths and water hitting the porcelain tub softly were all you could hear. Your body was too overheated, your mind was racing and you could feel your heartbeat in your hands.
You didn't know where this sudden burst of anxiety and panic had risen from. Just that you couldn't get out of the water. Something was keeping you down. Making your body drown.
"Doll?" A sudden tap on the door knocked you out of your trance. You swallowed, your throat feeling like sandpaper against your tongue. "Y-yeah?" Your voice cracked, and you silently cursed knowing Bucky would notice. That super soldier hearing never lets you live anything down.
"You've been in there for a while." You heard him lean against the door, "Is everything alright?" You nodded, remembering as much as Bucky could hear you better than most, he definitely can't see through walls.
"Y-yes. I'm alright, just...uh." You tried to think. Any excuse would work. Bucky might not believe you but he would let the topic go. "Just needed some extra alone time tonight."
"Oh," Bucky mumbled through the door. "Okay, doll." You could feel the hurt in his voice. You didn't need alone time from him. You didn't need to be alone at all right now but he couldn't see you like this.
A sweaty, anxious, mess.
You didn't know how much time had passed. Your nails attempt to dig into the porcelain of the tub, but to no avail, you're only yourself in the process. "Sweetheart?" Bucky taps on the door once more, "Please talk to me." You try to speak, but only a mumble comes out. The bubbles in the bath are gone. Only leaving a white film on top of the now room-temperature water.
"Doll, I'm coming in." You attempt to refuse but nothing comes out as Bucky breaks the lock on the door, softly opening it. You can't look at him. You won't.
You keep your head forward, staring into the wall as you feel Bucky kneel beside you.
He can see how hard your nails are clutching onto the side of the tub, softly lifting your hand as you ball your fist. Your nails now digging into the skin of your palm; drawing blood.
"Hey, hey." Bucky unclenches your fist, letting your nails hurt his metal hand instead.
Using his flesh hand, he softly places a palm on your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. "Doll, what's going on? Talk to me." You shake your head, eyes falling closed as more tears adorn your already-flushed cheeks.
"Okay, that's okay." Bucky whispers, "But I need to get you out of this tub sweetheart." He doesn't need to feel the water to know you've been in the bath for far too long.
"Can I get you out, doll?" You slowly nod, your chin shaking with the sobs you so badly don't want to release.
Bucky mumbles an alright. Moving one of his arms under your legs, the other holding your back as you clutch onto his shirt.
He lifts you up, the water rolling off of your body and soaking his once-dry clothes. "I'm so sorry." You mumble, repeating it over and over as your body starts to shiver from the temperature difference. "Shhh, you're okay, sweetheart."
Bucky wraps a towel around the exposed side of your body, attempting to keep you warm as he brings you into your shared bedroom. "I'm gonna lay you down, doll."
You shake your head violently, clutching onto his henley even harder. "Please, please don't leave me."
Bucky sits down with you still in his arms on the bed, your legs now lying over his as he holds you. "I won't. I promise, sweetheart I'm not leaving."
You both sit there for a moment, tears falling from your eyes, him rocking you back and forth as an old record played from the living room.
You start to feel a weight lift off your chest, your heartbeat calming slightly at the touch of Bucky's arms on yours. You start to speak, wanting to explain yourself when Bucky shushes you. "You don't have to explain sweetheart." He kisses the crown of your head, your hair still wet. "You can talk when you're ready." You nod, continuously wondering how you found someone so caring and endearing. "I just..." You looked up at Bucky, his blue eyes shining down at you with such love. "I felt like I was drowning." He nods, "Sometimes we can't help but drown, doll."
Kissing your forehead once again, he squeezes your body tighter to his. "But I'll be there every time to pull you from the water.
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bloodreinasbathwater · 4 months
Text
Little Dove
Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader
a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.
Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety
masterlist link / previous chapters
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summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.
word count - 4629
...
Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.
The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.
She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.
With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.
"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.
At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.
"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."
Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”
As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."
"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.
Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.
Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"
With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.
As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.
From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.
"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.
Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.
"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.
But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.
"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."
Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.
Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.
Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.
Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."
Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."
Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.
Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.
As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.
Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.
But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.
"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"
Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.
Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."
Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"
Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.
As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"
Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."
Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"
Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."
Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"
Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."
Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.
But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.
Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."
Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.
"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.
Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.
Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.
"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."
Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."
The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.
She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.
"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"
Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"
Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"
Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."
Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."
Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."
But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."
Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."
Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.
Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.
they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.
"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"
Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.
The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.
The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.
Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.
And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.
With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.
y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.
She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.
And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.
With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.
Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?
She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.
The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.
After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.
But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.
The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.
She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.
Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.  
in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.
She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.
Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.
He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.
The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.
Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.
The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.
Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.
He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.
The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.
He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.
Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.
With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.
The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.
Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.
Positive. Y/N was pregnant.
Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.
Tag List <3
@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions
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t-r99 · 4 months
Text
Obsessed
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Oliver loves you so much, why can't you see that?
Oliver Aiku x fem reader
College au
Aiku is lowkey a lunatic (completey delusional & unhinged)
warnings: stalking, mental torture, manipulation, deception, gaslightning, coercion || anxiety, paranoia, brief panic attack || dub con bordering on non con (blink and you miss it brief and tame smut at the end *whispers* spooning)
This was supposed to be pure porn but I changed my mind. It did not turn out the way I wanted.
Quick background: mc is being stalked by someone who keeps texting and sending pictures and has been for weeks.
Given that this is a blue lock fic, all of readers friends are guys heh.
wc: 10k
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God, why did I stay so long? You think. You usually don't stay at the library for this long, preferring to quickly find the books you need in the moment then leave.
Staying this long means you'll walk home well after sunset. Hours after sunset means it's dark. Darkness means it's easier to follow people. Following someone walking alone means-
I'm overthinking again. You sigh.
This is torture.
It's been a few days since the last text you received. You can't help but to open your phone several times a day and read all the shit the person has sent in the past few weeks, hoping to figure out who they are.
It feels like you're being watched.
You take in every last little detail of your surroundings.
A few people are out and walking who knows where, some of them familiar. You've seen them at school.
Almost home, You tell yourself. The apartment building you call home is less than a minute away.
You turn to look behind you, but no one is following you like you thought . . . and it feels like you're going crazy.
At this point, you expect a text from another unknown ID welcoming you home. The guy on the other side does it sometimes. It's bad enough that he knows which building you live in, you just hope he doesn't know which apartment is yours. You may as well dig your own grave if he does.
The elevator feels suffocating when you step in. You're alone but you keep expecting it to stop before it reaches your floor and that someone else will step in.
What if he steps in? What if you end up alone in this tiny little box with your worst nightmare and-
Ding.
You gasp at the sound, only staying still for a half a second before stepping out.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. What if he's is behind you? What if he's waiting for you to open the door so he can push you in and trap you?
You turn around, heart pounding.
There's no one there.
Just as you unlock your door, another opens a few steps away and you hear familiar voices. Out of the other apartment steps Aiku, and then you see Otoya, they're saying bye for tonight. It's the latter's apartment, you remember.
Aiku spots you but you look away and ignore him. You know them both, not that you particularly like them or enjoy their company, it's just that you share the same friends. You almost wish you were actually being followed for a second so Otoya and Aiku could beat the guy senseless.
Otoya pops his head out the doorframe and asks if you're okay when he sees that you're stressed.
Ignoring them both, you step inside and close the door behind you.
Home.
You're home.
I'm home, You tell yourself, repeating it iver and over for a few seconds.
There's a knock on the door and your heart almost leaps out of your chest.
It's him, it's him, it's him, it's hi-
You hear a familiar voice call your name, followed by, "Everything okay?" It's Aiku.
You gulp and take a deep breath before cracking the door just enough to see his face. Otoya is standing behind him and asks, "Something happen?"
"I'm fine, I," You gulp again, feeling lightheaded. "I just need some rest."
"Sure?" Aiku asks. "You look a bit pale."
"I'm fine, I promise." You insist. "I'm going to bed."
"'kaaay," Otoya gives a peace sign. "night."
You close the door and take a moment to try to calm yourself.
*
Outside, Otoya strains to not laugh out loud. He can't help it, though, forced to slap a hand against his mouth to muffle the sound of his amused giggling.
Aiku hushes him and smirks. "Shut up, you'll ruin everything." He says.
"Seriously, dude, why do you even bother at this point?"
Who knows? Maybe Oliver has gotten a bit obsessed. He won't give up until he gets what he wants, and he wants you.
Aiku doesn't just want sex. He wants you.
"It'll be worth it." He says.
Sure, you don't want him yet, but you will soon.
*
You feel a bit better after a long and warm shower, not a lot, but at least it's something.
You haven't eaten. Honestly, you can't find it in you to eat these days. Sometimes two or even three days pass before you realize you're starving. You've been losing weight for weeks, and looking in the mirror now you see just how much it has affected you.
Aiku was right, you're pale.
Look at me. You feel disgusted by the sight.
It takes you a few moments to force yourself to look away and leave the bathroom to go get dressed. Despite living several floors above the ground, with no buildings facing your bedroom window, you still feel the need to pull the curtain to hide.
What if he is watching? It's impossible to know.
You quickly get dressed, not comfortable with being naked even in your own bedroom with the windows covered, and then it happens again.
Two quick vibrations, the sound of a text, make your heart stop for a second.
Again, two vibrations.
Another two . . .
That's three texts.
Your hand shakes as you reach out for the phone that you honestly just want to smash up. You want to throw away all your electronics and find a cave out in the wilderness to hide in so no one will ever be able to contact you again.
The first one says exactly what you expect, Welcome home.
He was watching you walk home.
You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous. The second text is almost funny.
The third makes your blood run cold, Don't worry. I'll protect you.
When will this end?
While you're holding the phone, he sends a picture. This is the fourth time he's done this exact thing, having written, I don't know where you live. Maybe I should come in and knock on every door until I find yours.
It's a picture of the entrance to the building.
There's a knock on your apartment door.
. . . No.
You dare not move.
Should you look through the peephole? What if it's him and you finally get to see who it is? It could be someone you know, or maybe a complete stranger.
Another knock.
Go away. You want to scream. You want to yell at him to leave you alone.
No more knocks follow.
You don't know how long you stand frozen in your spot, taking slow breaths and standing as still and as quietly as you can.
Only when your feet hurt from standing there for so long do you finally snap out of it. You take your phone and set it to airplane mode, and you lock yourself in the bathroom.
There you remain until morning.
Of course you don't sleep.
You think about calling a friend to come over so you won't have to walk to school alone, or maybe you should just skip today and stay home.
Please . . . You curl up in the corner and sob. I can't take it anymore.
It feels like an eternity has passed when you leave the bathroom.
Staying home felt like the best thing to do. At least he doesn't know which apartment is yours so you can just stay in and not go out where he can spot and follow you again.
Your phone is still on airplane mode and you contemplate turning the function off. Will you only find texts from your friends asking why you didn't show up today or will you get more messages from him?
I'm hungry. You didn't eat last night.
There's very little in your kitchen and your heart sinks when you realize you have to go get some groceries soon.
There's a knock . . .
You gasp at the sound and turn to look at the door. It's the middle of the day so there's no way it's him. He only fucks with you after dark so-
Another knock.
You faintly hear someone call your name. "It's Otoya, you okay in there?"
That's a relief.
The front door cracks open and you look up at him. Otoya rarely shows much emotion on his face but you actually see some worry in his eyes. "Everything okay? You didn't show up at school."
You gulp. "I don't . . . feel very well." Your voice is hoarse and your throat feels rough, itching as you speak.
"I noticed last night. I just wanted to make sure you were all right so I knocked but you didn't answer."
Oh, it was him? It was just Otoya, not the guy on the other end of the phone. "Sorry," You say quietly. "I must've fallen asleep." You lie.
"No worries. Just come over if you ever need anything, yeah?"
"Yeah." You murmur. "Thanks."
You wonder just how messed up you look if it's enough to make Otoya of all people worry.
I'm going crazy. You close the door and sniffle, eyes welling with tears.
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A few quiet days pass and it is actually nerve wracking. Normally you would be happy, no texts, no paranoia and the feeling of being watched, but after those texts and the picture of the building entrance you just can't relax.
It feels like the calm before the storm.
You can't shake off the feeling that you're being watched everywhere you go, on campus, on the road, sometimes even when you're at home, feeling the need to check every inch of the apartment multiple times a day to make sure you're actually alone.
"You okay? You've been staring at the textbook forever." Chigiri's voice pulls you from your thoughts.
"Hm?"
He looks worried. Everyone has been worried about you lately, it makes you feel hopeless and pathetic. "More stalker texts?"
You shake your head. "Not for a few days." Your voice is small, heavy with sleep deprivation. "But everytime someone calls or texts or," Just talking about this makes you nauseous. "whenever someone knocks on my door I don't know what to think."
Before Chigiri can say anything else, a few of the other guys show up. Isagi comes and reminds him that they have training soon.
Why does it feel like all eyes are on you?
You're uncomfortable.
"I think I'll go home." You say. Before it gets dark.
"Sure you'll be okay on your own?" Chigiri asks.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's fine." You clear your throat and close your textbook. "I'm fine." You insist.
Keeping your gaze down, you ignore everyone and mutter a quick bye, missing the way a pair of dual coloured eyes watch you walk away.
Thank goodness that the sun is still high in the sky as you walk home.
Is this to be your new normal? Are you supposed to live the rest of your life in a constant state of panic?
Still no texts. No creepy pictures of your building. No knocking on the door. To be fair, it was Otoya, not some creepy lunatic of a stalker.
You sit down on your bed with a defeated bed then fall back.
"I hate this." You whisper.
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It's been a week since the night you spent terrified in the bathroom. He has still not sent anything, and for once you're actually in a better mood. Maybe he got bored of me, You think, and you truly hope that that's the case.
The days are growing shorter and colder. Winter is right around the corner and you wonder how you'll feel once it starts getting dark outside earlier. Your mind drifts back to the text that said, You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous.
Yeah, it can be dangerous alright. You haven't felt safe in a long time thanks to the bastard.
You're getting ready to eat, reaching up to the cabinet to grab a plate when there's a knock on the door.
Is it him?
Fuck, what if it is?
No, nothing has happened lately, You tell yourself.
More knocking . . .
You set the plate down on the counter and go to the door, wondering if it's one of your friends. Quite a few of them live in the same building, cheap and close to campus.
Upon opening the door, you find that there's no one there.
Oh, God . . .
Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck.
Your phone vibrates and the sound makes you jump.
You don't want to check it.
No.
Damn it.
When will this stop?
*
It's kind of funny. Otoya peers over Aiku's shoulder and cracks up. "Dude, you'll end up giving the chick a heart attack one day."
What Oliver wants is to be there when you need someone and be the one you lean on for emotional support. He'll have you depending on him in no time. "Hey, you told her to come over if she needs help, right?"
"Uh huh."
Aiku hopes you'll do it now. He's going at this pretty hard and doubts you'll stay alone in your apartment when you think your stalker is in the building. Everyone you know in the building live on other floors while Otoya's apartment is the only one close to yours. Come on, doll, don't disappoint me now.
Oliver wants to jump and pump his fist in success when he hears a knock on Otoya's door. He stays on the couch while his friend goes to open, hearing him say, "Hey, you okay?"
Aiku gets off the couch and goes to the hall where you're standing right outside. You're trying to keep yourself calm but he can see panic in your eyes, those beautiful eyes that should be on him and only him. "Have, uhm . . ." You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Have you heard anyone outside?"
"No, why?" Otoya feigns ignorance. "Are you sure you're okay? You're shaking."
Oliver almost feels bad, but he just needs to make sure his plan works. If everything ends up working out then he's only a few days away from being able to call you his and hold and comfort you. "Stalker again?" He asks.
Aiku doesn't like using that word. It makes him feel like a creep. He's not a creep, he just wants you to be his but you're not making it easy for him.
Your only reply is a small nod.
Otoya steps aside. "Okay, come on. Come in." He urges you to step inside and you're more than happy to. "What happened this time? Did he text again?"
"I- I think he . . . I think he's i- in the building."
Oh, you poor thing.
Oliver tells you to sit down on the couch. You're holding your phone, clutching it tightly.
He doesn't need to give Otoya a look that silently asks him to help out. His friend already knows what to do while Oliver talks to you and tries to calm you down.
Your mind is racing with a million questions, but it goes blank when your phone vibrates in your hand and you look down at it in terror, too scared to check the text.
Oliver looks down at it. "Here, let me." He offers. Your hand is shaking when he takes it from you. "It's okay, I got you." He takes your hand in his and rubs soothing circles on the back. What did Otoya text, he wonders.
Aiku wants to laugh when he reads it. It includes the number of Otoya's apartment, followed by, Is this your place? I can hear your pretty voice coming from inside.
Damn, he really couldn't have asked for a better bro.
"What . . . What does . . ."
Oliver hushes you gently and locks the phone instead of showing you. "It's okay, we'll deal with the guy."
Otoya steps behind the couch. "What's up?"
"You want to check if there's anyone in the hall?" Oliver asks. He's still holding your hand.
"I got it." Otoya gives a thumbs up and heads out. You want to tell him to stay inside, scared that the stalker might be dangerous, but your voice gets caught in your throat.
"Hey, it's okay." Oliver says softly. "Everything will be okay." He lets go of your hand and puts his arm around you instead when you exhale shakily and sob hopelessly.
You're just tired at this point. The past several weeks have left you so paranoid and terrified that you can't sleep. You don't eat, barely drink, you struggle to take care of yourself. It's beyond tiring. "I'm scared . . ." You whisper.
Oliver holds you close. He feels all warm inside like this, loving the feeling of your smaller body in his embrace like he's wanted for so long. He looks down at where your cheek is pressed against his chest and put his other arm around you comfortingly.
You're his.
You don't know it yet but you are his.
*
I fell asleep . . . Your eyes flutter partially open. You wonder when you did, and how you even managed to given how scared you were. How scared you still are.
A pair of arms are around you. You open your eyes further and see that you're in an apartment you don't recognize, then you look up and see that you're being held by a sleeping Aiku, and you remember that you're in Otoya's apartment.
You don't exactly dislike the two, it's just that you don't like their womanizing and their attitudes. Who would have ever thought that you would go to Otoya's place in a panic and be comforted by Aiku of all people?
Oliver wakes up when you move in his arms. "Hey," He clears his throat and blinks. "Hey, you feel any better?"
A tiny bit maybe. "I guess." You say in a small voice. You still don't want to go back to your own apartment where you'll just end up hiding in the bathroom at the sound of your phone receiving a text or a knock on your door.
Aiku can easily see that you're still shaken up and he hopes you'll let him hold you like this even longer.
You exhale shakily. "I don't want to be alone . . ."
"You're not alone, I got you." He rubs your back gently.
It feels nice . . . "Thank you." You whisper, relaxing further against him.
Oliver bites his bottom lip and smiles. You're starting to warm up to him, it's perfect.
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It's been a few days and you can't stop thinking about that night. Otoya didn't find anyone in the hallway so you still have no idea who he is, but the one thing you can't stop thinking about is how comforting it was to be held by Aiku.
You feel ridiculous for it, even more so whenever you see him and feel your cheeks heat up.
He asks how you're doing everyday now and if anything else has happened since that night.
It's embarrassing how you almost immediately relaxed so much you actually fell asleep in his arms back then and it makes you want to avoid him.
Oliver hates that. He was so happy to have finally managed to push you to him for support, but now you don't talk to him other than short answers where you tell him you're doing okay whenever he asks, and he can't stand it.
He hates having to scare you so much. Why are you being so stubborn? Why do you try to hide how much it affects you? All you're doing is forcing his hand at this point. Why won't you just let him in?
He contemplates sending a text or two or maybe a picture of your apartment building. Those don't usually do much, though. Aiku exhales heavily as he tries to think of something more effective.
The door knocking was enough to get you to go to Otoya's apartment, but no more than that.
What to do? What to do?
Oliver doesn't want to threaten you. He doesn't want to scare you like that. You're his special girl, after all.
What to do?
*
It's gotten dark, You think grimly.
Classes are done for the day and now you're forced to walk home in the dark. The boys have training in a bit so you can't walk back to the student apartments with any of them, and all your other friends live in the opposite direction. It would be rude to ask someone to accompany you home and in turn force them to walk twice as far back to their own place.
Damn bastard.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pick it up.
The colour drains from your face when you unlock it and open the text you've received, a picture of you right this moment.
The picture has been taken from your left. You turn in a flash to see if you can spot the stalker, but you only see your peers. Some are standing in groups and talking to their friends, others are looking down at their phones as they're leaving for the day.
Who is it?
Who could it be?
Where is he?
"Hey,"
You spin around with a sharp gasp at the feeling of someone touching your arm.
"Shit, did something happen?" It's just Aiku. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He steps back to give you space. "What happened?"
You're breathing too fast for comfort now, unable to speak. All you manage to do is point in the direction behind you and look down at your phone.
"Again? What the hell does the guy want now? Show me."
Hands shaking, you take a moment to unlock your phone and open your texts. Aiku takes your phone and reads the message from the No Caller ID that says, You look really good today. He open the picture and takes a sharp breath.
"Sick fuck." He spits. "Hey, don't look down at it. Look at me." He holds your shoulder. "Look at me. It's okay, I'm right here. You're not alone now, okay?"
You're not alone.
Aiku is with you right now and that brings you comfort.
"'m scared . . ."
"I know," He says softly. "I know. Everything will be okay, we'll figure out who the guy is."
You've lost any hope of that happening.
"Hey, come on, I'll walk you home, yeah?"
You gulp. "B- But . . . practice . . ."
"It's fine. I can skip this one time. You shouldn't be alone right now."
You only nod at that, grateful to not be on your own. Having Aiku walk next you makes you feel safer than you have in months, but you honestly feel guilty about all this and want to apologize for having go through all this trouble just because you're too scared to do anything on your own.
"How you holdin' up?"
You look down at the ground as you keep walking. "I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Oliver turns to you. "What for?"
"For . . . all this."
Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. "What, for being scared?" Aiku asks. "For needing help? I'd be surprised if you weren't scared. Everyone needs support sometimes, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
You're fighting back tears. "But I . . . I- I shouldn't need to be walked home like this."
Oliver frowns at that. Does that mean you don't want him there? You're really not making this easy for him. "It's okay, I don't mind."
You finally look up and turn to him, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Aiku wonders if you'll let him wipe them from your cheeks if they fall. He would love nothing more than to comfort you like a man and hold you close. He can't even begin to imagine how good it would feel.
When you turn away from him to look ahead again, Oliver carefully takes his phone and does his utmost to make sure you don't spot it.
He sets his caller ID to hidden and types away . . .
You're startled by the feeling of your phone vibrating. You've grown to hate it. Most of the time it signals a text from a hidden number from your nightmares.
You read the text. It sends chills down your spine. Got a boyfriend, huh? Did you forget about me, sweetheart? It says.
You freeze in your tracks and Aiku stops a step later.
"You good?"
No. No you're not.
You simply hold the screen out for him to read. Aiku puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. You look up at his hard face, he's looking all around you. "Damn psycho." He mutters harshly. "Come on, let's hurry."
He doesn't need to tell you twice.
Terrified out of your mind, you reach both hands out and hold his arm for safety. It's not much, but it does make you feel a bit better.
Oliver swears his heart skips a few beats at that. He has to use all his strength to restrain himself. Fuck, you're killing him with how long this is taking.
He stays by your side all the way up to your apartment, and there you find it impossible to let go of his arm. "Will you be okay from now on?"
Of course you won't. You shake your head in reply.
"You know," He feels warm. "I could stay over and make sure nothing happens until tomorrow. And Otoya will go home soon enough, I'll call for him if something does happen."
You really don't want to be alone. "I . . . You don't have to."
Sure, you might be saying that, but your body leans even closer against his and you let out a shaky breath.
"I'm staying." Oliver says. It's not a question. "I can't leave when you're this shaken up."
Maybe Aiku can finally scare the stalker away. "Okay . . ." You truly hope he can because this is getting ridiculous and you're exhausted.
Once he's inside, Oliver wants to yell out in triumph at how easy it was to get you to agree. Only a few more days and he won't have to keep at it. All you need to do is let him all the way in and he can put the whole thing to rest and enjoy you.
Your apartment is cute, just like you are. Oliver could stay here forever, and if his plan succeeds then he might just be able to.
*
Oliver decides not to send anything for now. He hates scaring you so much, and you were pretty shaken up on the walk to your apartment. It wouldn't hurt to prepare in advance, though.
You're currently taking a quick shower.
Aiku steps into your bedroom and takes a deep breath. He's never felt like this before.
He listens carefully to make sure the shower is still on.
Only a few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom with no idea of where Oliver went just minutes prior. He's still on the sofa and watching tv, just as he was when you left to shower.
Strangely enough, you don't feel uncomfortable with him there. Only a few months ago you would have rather drank acid than let him into your home, but now his presence puts you at ease.
He notices you and offers a smile. "Feel any better?"
"Yeah, a bit." You say softly.
Oliver exhales slowly when you turn around to go to the kitchen. You really are the prettiest girl he's ever seen. He can't stop thinking about what you look like under your clothes and how pretty you would luck under him.
You're his beautiful girl. He's counting the seconds to when he can finally say it outloud.
"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" You ask.
"Nah, I'm fine." Oliver shakes his head.
What he wants is you.
Earlier, he decided to give you a few days of peace, but now he wants to send only one text. If you get anxious again then he can be there and hold you and help you calm down.
You drink some water and take a moment to think about everything. You're lucky to have friends who care, even when you insist you're okay on your own. Even Aiku of all people is going out of his way to make sure you're not alone.
It's actually not as awkward as you thought it would be. He doesn't annoy or pester you with endless questions, instead talking to you about other things in an effort to get your mind off things.
It works, for some time.
"Are you sure about staying? I feel like I'm just inconveniencing you."
Once again, Oliver thinks you don't want him there and he feels like he's been punched in the gut. "If it helps you feel any safer, I'm more than happy to." He says. Oliver won't let you push him away now that he's so close to getting what he wants.
It's getting late.
You've brought a pillow and covers for him sleep on the sofa, and for the third time today your phone receives a text from a hidden caller ID.
It's a short text that reads, Good night, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.
Oliver frowns next to you when you tense up. "What is it? Show me."
When will it end?
He takes your phone from you and set it down on the table in front of the sofa. "The guy better pray I never find him." He mutters quietly. "Okay, c'mere, I got you." He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close.
You're even more grateful to have him there now. If you were alone you would probably lock yourself in the bathroom and cry your eyes out again. "I can't take it anymore . . ." You whimper into his chest.
Oliver hushes you softly and puts his hand on the back of your head. He leans back against the sofa and pulls you with him, now rubbing your back soothingly. It feels so good to hold you like this, he can't get enough of it.
This feels oddly calming.
Like this, all you hear is the sound of his steady heartbeat. It's soothing, helping you relax with each soft thump.
You finally manage to slow your breathing down and sigh, going limp against him. "Thank you . . ."
Oliver smiles down at you and combs his fingers through your soft hair. "Close your eyes," He says softly. "I got you."
You wake up the next morning and find that you're still in Oliver's arms. He has pulled the covers over you and is awake, running his fingers through your hair.
When he notices that you've woken up, he smiles softly. "Hey there, how do you feel?"
You want to die.
Death would be preferable to being constantly watched by some lunatic out there.
You close your eyes again. "I'm tired." You whisper. Tired of being scared, tired of constantly looking over your shoulder, tired of feeling helpless.
"Sleep well?"
The feeling of him playing with your hair is a nice one. It's weird to see such a soft side of Aiku when you've known him for a while and seen his goofier side with your shared friends. "Yeah," You mumble. "thank you."
Oliver is loving this.
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Strangely enough, the following several days are quiet.
Neither of you actually agreed to it outloud, but Aiku now accompanies you on your walk home from campus everyday and it becomes a routine. If he's busy with practice or has classes after yours have all ended then you wait, and it feels nice to have him walk by your side.
You get suspicious when you don't receive any texts from the stalker, wondering when he'll send you something again and what the text will say. Ever since Oliver stayed over that night it's been radio silence.
Your friends are just as confused by the lack of texts and a few are hopeful that it means the stalker just grew tired of tormenting you, the rest are worried about what he'll send in the future.
"Bitch ass." You mumble to yourself. You hate the guy more than anything and you wish the worst for him.
It's the weekend and you've been studying ever since you came home from school.
Your phone vibrates next to you but it's not from the stalker, it's Oliver calling you.
Never in a million years would you have ever thought that seeing Aiku's contact calling you would make you feel all warm inside.
He's asking how you're doing and if everything's okay.
"Everything's fine," You say. "I try not to think about all that now that it's quiet."
"Fucking finally. Let's just hope nothing happens."
"Yeah." You sigh. "I think I'll go to bed, I'm getting tired. Thank you for being there."
"You don't need to thank me, doll, I'm happy to help." Oliver says. "I didn't want to bother by coming over, but I'm at Sendou's and getting ready to leave. He lives two floors below you."
While he talks, your phone quickly vibrates in your hand and you quickly set it on speaker to check the text you've received. It makes you jump in your seat and quickly turn around to look around in the room.
Oliver hears you shuffling around as you stand up and storm out of your bedroom to turn all the lights in your apartment. He asks if you're okay but you don't hear his voice in this state.
He is there.
He's there, he's in there, he's in your apartment.
He's watching you, you can feel it.
It feels like he'll pop out and grab you any second now.
I can't breathe. Your head feels light, like everything is spinning. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.
You drop your phone and try to reach the door instead. You can't stay in there, not when he is in the apartment and watching you.
Suddenly there's loud knocking on your door and you almost scream when the sound startles you.
Is he outside or inside right now? Is he in the apartment or knocking on the door to get in?
Where is he? Where?
You hear your name being called.
The voice is familiar.
It takes you a few seconds to find the strength to stand up and reach the door, your hands shaking as you try to unlock it.
A few seconds pass and you look behind you, vision blurry and cheeks wet with tears.
There's no one behind you.
Where is he?
Finally unlocking the door, you fling it open and find Aiku and Sendou standing outside and looking worried. Oliver reaches out to hold your shoulders but you step forward instead and cling to him as your legs go weak and give out.
"Hey, hey, what happened? What's going on?" Oliver quickly asks. "What's wrong?"
"H- Here . . . Here . . . He- He's here . . ." You can't breathe. You can't breathe.
Oliver hold you close and hushes you by your ear.
You hear Sendou walking down the hall and knock on a door. It opens, Otoya, and Sendou tells him to follow. They enter your apartment while Oliver sits down on the hallway floor with you in his arms. "Easy now, I got you. I got you, you're safe, I'm right here." Oliver says softly.
You sob into his chest, terrified.
"There's no one in there." You hear Sendou's voice. "Here. Look." He shows Oliver the text on your phone that's still unlocked.
You've got a nice apartment. I really like your bedroom. It's cute.
Sendou doesn't know what Oliver has been up to these past few months. No one except for Otoya does.
"Hear that?" Oliver looks down at where you're still sobbing into his chest. "There's no one in there."
That doesn't make you feel any better. You don't want to go back inside your apartment, you don't want to stay and sleep there. You shake your head and whimper, fisting his shirt at the mere thought of going back inside. Oliver hushes you again and puts a hand on the back of your head.
Sendou says, "I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay here right now." Oliver knows that Sendou genuinely worried about you, but he has no idea just how long Aiku has waited for this.
"How about staying at my place tonight?" Oliver ask in a gentle voice. "How's that sound?"
You only nod in response.
*
It still feels like you're being watched, you can't shake the feeling. It has you holding Oliver's hand while you walk and clinging to him desperately for safety. You're outside his apartment and feel the need to look behind you to check the hallway while he unlocks the door. "It's okay, I won't let anything happen to you." He squeezes your hand and leads you in. He closes the door and immediately turns to you, pulling you in for a hug. "You're safe here. Nothing will happen to you."
You haven't said a word since leaving your building.
"Come on, doll, let's get you to bed." He pulls back and cups your flushed cheeks where fresh tears have started running, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks gently to wipe them.
Being able to finally call you his is just within arm's reach.
"Oliver . . ."
Fuck, you're killing him.
He leans his forehead against yours, still caressing your cheeks. "I'm right here." Oliver whispers. He pulls you into another hug and waits for you to lean further against him. You even put your arms around his neck which is more than he could have asked for in the moment. "C'mere," He doesn't waste any time, moving an arm down to pick you up and hold you close. "I got you."
You keep your arms around him and your face hidden in the crook of his neck as he carries you through his apartment, only looking up when you feel something soft beneath you.
It's his bed, but you don't want to be alone right now.
Just as Oliver goes to lean back from you, you tighten your arms around him, whimpering out a desperate, "Please don't leave me."
Shit, shit, shit. Oliver is sure he's going to die now.
"You sure?" He asks, voice low.
"Please . . ." You whisper.
Oh, this is fucking perfect. This is much better than Aiku expected.
Oliver lets you lie down on his bed, and he doesn't know how to handle the view of you down there, then gets down next to you. He lets you rest your head on his arm, putting the other around your smaller frame and pulling you into his chest where you instantly close your eyes and sigh in relief. "Try to get some sleep now. You're safe here." He whispers.
"Thank you, Oliver."
He's so close to finally getting what he wants in life. What he needs.
You're my beautiful girl, Oliver thinks and smiles down at you. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and features soft and relaxed. Aiku has finally managed to turn himself into your safe space.
"Oliver . . ."
He moves his hand up to brush away the hair that covers your beautiful face. "Yeah?"
You open your eyes to look at his, dual coloured and mesmerizing. "I'm . . . I'm so scared these days."
For a moment, Oliver feels conflicted. He just wanted this, to be the one you will always seek out and rely on, but he also wonders if he's taken things too far. Seeing your pretty eyes all teary like this is breaking his heart, but he's more than happy to help you heal from this and build you back up again.
Oliver has all the time in the world now. You trust him, he knows that, and he'll never let you leave his side. "I'm sorry this is happening," He caresses your cheek, touch soft. "I'll help in any way I can."
Please, please just let him do this.
Aiku needs only you in life, why does he have to do so much to get what he wants?
Please don't push him away.
Oliver leans closer to you, eyes still locked with yours. It's a wordless plea. He's asking you if it's okay.
Please don't say no.
If you push him away now he won't know how to handle it. He doesn't want to keep scaring you.
"Oliver . . ."
He's so close.
When you don't push him away, Oliver closes the space between you and finally presses his lips to yours.
Maybe he should've waited a bit longer and given you some more time to calm down, but he can't take it anymore.
He needs you.
Oliver doesn't push for more. He breaks the kiss after only a few seconds, but it's enough for now. "That okay?" He whispers, heart pounding against his chest.
You gulp, feeling dazed. "'s okay."
Perfect.
*
You wake up the next morning with Oliver's arms wrapped around you. This is the third time it has happened, and by now you've grown to enjoy the feeling.
He's still asleep.
You can't help it, but you end up laying there and just watching him.
Oliver is a handsome guy, yes, but you've never looked at him like that before. You don't know when that changed during the chaos of the past few weeks, but it's not the worst thing ever.
You reach out absentmindedly and brush his bangs from his eyes. His hair is softer than you imagined, you want to run your fingers through it forever.
He stirs a bit and takes a deep breath as he wakes up, eyes fluttering open and softening as soon as they meet yours.
"Morning." You say softly, hand on his cheek.
He smiles tiredly and closes his eyes again. "Morning, doll." Oliver puts his hand over yours and traces small circles on the back of your hand. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah." Much better than you have in months.
Oliver loves that he's the reason why you feel safe enough to have a good night's sleep now. "Stay here for a few days," He opens his eyes. "I don't want you to feel like that again."
"You sure?"
"Mhm." How could he ever want anything else? "How would you feel about it?"
"I don't want to be a burden."
"You could never be." Oliver is confused by that. How could you ever think that you would be a burden to him? He leans closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. "Stay here until you feel better."
Staying with Oliver? You wouldn't exactly hate that.
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Oliver has never felt happier.
You've been staying with him for a few days now, showing no signs of wanting to leave. He knows it's because he makes you feel safe, something no one else manages to do.
He does his best to make you feel comfortable in his apartment, never pushing things too far and being careful not to say the wrong thing. The last thing Aiku wants is to scare you away.
You can't leave him.
You cannot.
Oliver wouldn't know what to do without you now that he's gotten a taste of life with you by his side. He would never forgive himself if he ruined this.
"You okay?" Your soft voice pulls him from his thoughts. "You look stressed out."
That's right. He stresses himself out every time he thinks about losing you, but he will not lose you so he should stop tormenting himself. "Just a bit tired." Oliver says. He's sitting on the couch and you're standing right next to him.
Oliver wants to hold you.
He takes your hand and pulls gently, bringing you down to hin. Aiku puts his hands on your waist, like he's been doing every now and then these past few days, and leans forward to nuzzle into your shoulder.
He always feels overjoyed when you let him do this. The first time he did he was scared you would push him away.
Oliver swears he's in heaven when he feels your fingers comb through his hair.
"Thank you for letting me stay." You thank him once again.
Oliver hums softly against your shoulder then turns towards you to place a kiss on the side of your neck.
He wants you so fucking badly.
"No need to thank me." He wraps his arms around your waist. "I'm just happy you're feeling better."
Oliver doesn't need to send you any more texts as long as you're with him. Everything is perfect this way and will stay as such so long as you don't leave.
He needs to make sure you'll stay.
Oliver waits until you decide to go to sleep. You did feel bad after your first night at his place, but all he needed to do was wait for you to start overthinking again and then he could hold you in his arms all night long.
Maybe he can finally try to take it a step further.
He'll never get tired of seeing you in his bed.
Oliver loves holding you like this more than anything. Your body fits in his arms perfectly because you were made for him and him alone. My beautiful girl. Oliver caresses your cheek.
He can't get enough of you.
When he first started doing this a few days you would blush and avoid his gaze. Now, it makes you smile up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours.
"It feels like all I'm doing these days is just thank you over and over." You say. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."
Oh, if only you knew just why he was always there every time you needed someone.
Oliver feels bolder than he did days ago now. He leans down and slots his lips against yours, and it's the best thing he has ever felt.
He's careful to not push for too much and make you uncomfortable, but fuck, it's hard to restrain himself.
Oliver hopes you won't say no next.
He pushes gently on your shoulder to get you to move onto your back, and when you comply he moves on top of you. You don't seem uncomfortable or even shocked, thank fuck for that, and it spurs Aiku on.
He breaks the kiss and pulls back to look down at your flushed face. You look so pretty like this, Oliver has never felt like this before.
No one can compare to you. He regrets wasting his time on other girls when he could've focused all his attention on you instead.
"'s this okay?" He whispers.
You feel hot. Oliver makes you feel things you've never experienced. "Uh huh . . ."
He's so close to getting what he's waited for since the day he met you.
Oliver kisses you again and you welcome it eagerly, pulling him closer by putting your arms around his neck.
You're so perfect.
You're perfect.
Oliver needs you more than he needs air. He can't live without you, he loves you so much
Oliver loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
*
Oliver wakes up to the sound of his phone vibrating softly on the nightstand. He sighs, annoyed, reaching out to pick it up.
Otoya.
Oliver gets out of bed carefully, making sure you won't wake up as he leaves and goes to open the front door where Otoya is waiting outside and smirks in amusement when he sees Oliver. "Mission accomplished?"
"Almost." Oliver yawns. "What's up?"
Otoya holds up the phone Oliver bought to text you with most of the time a few months back. "I keep forgetting to give this back at campus but I was close by and remembered it a few minutes ago."
Oliver takes the phone. "Thanks, bro."
"Well you seem happy." Otoya notes. "Score yet?"
"No, she's more than that." Oliver would never see you as just another girl to sleep with. You're his precious love and he'll never let you go. He doesn't need anyone else, only you.
Aiku doesn't know that his special girl woke up from him getting out of bed.
You're confused by what the boys are talking about, standing by the bedroom door and listening.
"Well, be careful with that thing." Otoya nods down at the phone. "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer." Otoya puts on a sweet, girly voice and makes a cute face.
Otoya's words hit you like a punch in the gut.
Oliver slaps the side of Otoya's head playfully and says, "Shut up, that won't happen."
"Here's to hoping." Otoya fistbumps him. "Later." He turns around and waves as he walks away.
Your mind goes blank.
Oliver?
What?
Otoya's words echo in your mind, "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."
Your legs go weak.
". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."
You slide down to the floor.
The front door closes.
You gasp, eyes going wide.
Footsteps . . .
Oliver is coming back to the bedroom. His bedroom. The room you've been sleeping in for days. The bed you've laid with him in. The bed he's held you in every night.
". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."
It has to be a joke right?
Right?!
"Oh?"
Oliver's voice makes your blood freeze.
"Hey, what are you doing on the floor?"
You look up at him, eyes wide. Otoya's words fill your mind again, ". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."
"What are . . . you . . ." Oliver realizes.
You heard.
You stare up at him in terror.
It's him.
What kind of a cruel, sadistic joke is this?
It all suddenly makes sense, how could you be so stupid? Every time something happened either Oliver or Otoya would be there. Otoya was in on it, too.
The texts, the pictures, the knocking . . . all those times you felt like you were being watched . . .
Just as Oliver moves, about to walk up to you, you shake your head. "Please don't hurt me."
"No, no, no, I would never hurt you." Oliver kneels down in front of you but you back into the wall. "I'd never hurt you, doll."
The room suddenly feels too small.
You can't stay in there, the room where you've been sleeping in Oliver's arms on his bed when he's been playing you like a damn fiddle all along.
You push yourself off the floor and try to leave the room but he stops you by grabbing your arms. "No! Let go!"
Oliver can't let you leave. You'll never come back if you run away now. "Please just listen to me for a minute," He pleads. "let me explain-"
"No!" You cry. "No, no!"
Oliver lets go of your arms to hold your face in his large hands instead. "Please, doll, listen to me." He forces you back against the wall and cages you in, wide frame preventing you from running away. You can't leave, you can't.
If he could torment you over the course of months so easily, what else is he capable of? The thought terrifies you and you can't stop the tears from running. "I trusted you . . ."
Oliver's heart breaks at the sight of your tears. Maybe he did take some things too far, but it's okay. All he needs to do is show how much he loves you. "You can still trust me, baby girl, I'd never hurt you, you know that."
"Oliver, please . . ." You whimper. "I'm scared . . ."
Scared of what? Of him? "You don't need to be scared, doll." Oliver says softly. He wipes the tears from your cheeks. "Please don't cry."
"O- Oliver . . ."
He's the one who turned you into a shell of your former self who spends every moment terrified for your safety.
Why would he do this?
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Oliver whispers over and over again. "I'm sorry for scaring you, doll, I'll never do anything to hurt you again." He promised. "You're the most important person in my life, I can't live without you."
How can you trust him after learning all this?
"Please don't hate me." Oliver begs desperately. He is beyond terrified now. He can't let you leave, it would kill him. "Please don't hate me, I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you."
If he loves you so much . . . why would he put you through all this? "Y- You . . ."
"I love you." Oliver breathes. He prays you won't push him away, then leans down to kiss you desperately. "I love you," He whispers against your lips. "I love you and only you, I love you so much."
If you were in your right mind right now you would condemn him for him actions and demand answers, but you're not. You look up at Oliver, in a daze from the kiss. "Y'love . . ."
"I love you." Oliver kisses you again. "You know that I do, don't you? You know how much I love you, doll, yeah?"
You see nothing but panic and desperation in his mismatched eyes, the same ones that have only looked at you with pure adoration for weeks now. "Y- You love m- me . . ." You murmur.
"Yeah, that's right. That's right, I love you. You're the only one I've ever loved." Oliver captures your lips in a heated kiss.
There is still a tiny voice inside you that is telling you to get a grip, yelling at you to push him away. Aiku is the one who put you through so much shit that you nearly lost your sanity, the one who scared you so much you broke down.
Oliver kisses you like his life depends on it. He needs too show you just how much he loves you, he needs you to know.
"Oli- Oliver-"
He's scared that you will tell him to let you go and he can't take it. Oliver will never let you leave, not when you're finally his.
You're still crying and he hates himself for being the cause of your tears. Oliver brushes the fresh tears from your cheeks and whispers against your lips, "You'll let me love you, won't you, doll? You'll let me show you how much you mean to me, right?" He moves his hands down your body.
He loves you . . . Oliver loves you, you can see it in his eyes.
"You'll let me, won't you, baby?"
A small nod is all you manage to give as a reply.
You gasp when you feel his warm hands on your skin. He pushes your tank top up to finally feel your soft skin. Oliver has waited for this for so long, he'll be damned if it ends before it even begins. "Let me show you."
"Oliver . . ."
He steps back from the wall and pulls you with him, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down. You're overwhelmed and want to tell Oliver to wait, but he doesn't let you say anything and kisses you again.
You push on his shoulders lightly. "W- Wait . . ."
"What's wrong, doll?" Oliver coos down at you, cupping your cheek. "Just let me take care of you, I'll make you feel better."
He leans back enough to sit on his knees for a second, pulling his t shirt off and throwing it away. The sight makes you feel hot and he can see the effect it has on you. It swells Oliver's ego to know you like what you see, even if you don't say it outloud.
There's a part of you that wants to push him away but . . .
Oliver can see the doubt in your eyes.
He leans back down and brushes his lips against yours. "You want me to make you feel good, don't you?" Aiku pushes your top up. It tingles where his skin meets yours and you exhale shakily. "I'll make it all better, doll. That's what you want, ain't it?"
You gulp, and you nod.
"Yeah?" Oliver smiles and presses a quick peck to your now swollen lips. "Want me to make it better?"
"Uh huh . . ."
He has you now.
Oliver has you and he will never let you go.
*
Everything feels so hot . . .
You can't breathe.
You can't think.
All you feel is Oliver Aiku.
Your discovery is long forgotten. He's doing everything he can to make sure that you will never care about it again, and it's working. Every time he feels you tensing up or sees the doubt in your pretty eyes he does something new to get your mind off it.
You're on your side with his toned chest pressed against your back as he litters your nape and shoulder with kiss, one arm under you and holding you tight while his free hand roams every inch of your burning skin.
Oliver moves his hand down between your thighs that are pressed together. "O- Oli . . ."
He can't get enough of you. He's never felt so good in his life. "All f'me," Oliver whispers by your ear. "I want you so fuck'n bad, doll."
Oliver is skilled and experienced, you know that, and you should have enough common sense to not let that bother you but it does. It means he's been with plenty of other girls before you and you hate that.
He shifts his arm under you to move his hand up to hold your face, forcing you to turn your head and look back at him. "C'mere, doll." He kisses you hungrily. Oliver actually moans when he feels how wet you are.
All for him.
"Feels so good to hold you like this." Aiku pants. "You're so good for me. My good girl."
Oliver's gaze moves down to the marks on your shoulder. There aren't enough of them. You're not covered enough. He needs to leave enough marks for the whole world to know that you belong to him.
He grabs a handful of your plush thigh. "Spread 'em."
"Oliver . . ."
"You said you'd let me, remember?" He says softly. "Remember, baby? You said you'd let me love you."
That's right . . . you did.
"Here, we'll take it slow." He's okay with waiting a few more minutes if it means he can make you more needy in the process and eventually have you beg for it. "See? Just like this."
Oliver urges you to press your thighs together again. He's sure that being buried deep inside you would feel a lot better, but he doesn't mind fucking your pretty thighs for a while. They’re so soft and feel so good around his cock, everything about you feels like paradise.
You keep rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension in your body. He's only making it worse by rubbing against you like this, you're desperate for release. "Oliver . . . please . . ."
Every time he moves forward he nudges your sensitive clit and it has your thighs shaking.
You spread your legs and Oliver is quick to take advantage of it. "This is okay, right?" He pants, struggling to restrain himself.
Even now, there's still that tiny voice inside that begs you to stop.
Oliver kisses your shoulder. "I can do it, right?"
You . . .
He needs to make you his.
You're scared.
Oliver feels it in the way you tense you slightly, but he's so close, it's practically almost done. "Hey, doll, how do you feel?" He kisses your shoulder again and stops for a moment. "It's okay, right?"
It's Oliver . . . Oliver loves you, you know that now . . .
You don't say anything. Instead, you reach your hand back to the back of his head and turn to kiss him again.
Oliver will take this as a yes.
You tense up and gasp when he pushes in. He's a lot bigger than you expected.
Oliver swears he's dying, he can't handle it now that it's finally happening. You're so warm and so tight, it feels so good.
"Y'feel so fuck'n good, doll." Oliver whispers against your lips. "So good for me, my good girl."
You can't think of anything other than the feeling of Oliver's cock deep inside you, filling you perfectly.
He moves at a slow pace, whispering sweet nothings and praising you for being so good for him. You're his perfect girl, so sweet and so beautiful and all his.
Oliver knows he has you now.
"How's it feel, doll? Feel good?"
You feel hot. "Oli . . ."
"Deep breaths for me, baby, easy now." He murmurs softly, hitting that perfect spot inside you.
"F- Feels good . . ."
Yes.
Oliver has never been happier. He finally has you and it was worth the wait.
You cry out his name and it makes Oliver's heart flutter and he practically melts against you. You're the only girl who can do this to him. Everything about you is addicting, he could never get enough of you. Now that Oliver finally gets to bury himself inside you he never wants to pull out. He wishes that he can stay like this forever.
Aiku moans against your nape at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him, as if you never him to leave.
Shit, it feels so good, he won't last.
He whispers you name breathlessly and moves at an even slower pace in favour of giving harder thrusts.
Your sweet voice bounces off the walls and in the room, the sweetest sound Aiku has ever heard.
"G'na cum f'me, yeah?" Oliver pants, so close. "Come on, doll, cum for me. Give me everything."
You belong to him, just as he belongs to you.
You're his and he is yours.
Oliver loves you so fucking much, he can hardly handle it. He needs you to live.
"I love you."
197 notes · View notes
urdepressedslut · 1 year
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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part twelve❞
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.
♡ Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, sickness, paranoia, death threats, murderous thoughts, stalking, sam and bucky being absolutely my favs
series masterlist
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Bodyguard!Au Mob!Au
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It was almost taunting the way your fingertips thumped, the last skim of your fingers across the book spines in your library. You tried to think of this being bittersweet, but could only find the bitterness of the situation. You were being ripped from your home, because of your Father. You were being forced to flee your house because of his sick and twisted mind, somewhere in his head he thought he was doing right by going after you. You couldn't even stomach the thought for too long, the mere mention of your Father's hatred towards enough to send you into a spiral.
The outside world passed by through your unfocused gaze. The buildings lessening and the trees getting denser. You weren't for sure where you were headed, but as long as Bucky was the one guiding you there— you didn't care.
"Hey." Bucky's voice brought you back to reality.
The dark and suffocating thoughts floating away as his smooth voice broke through the haze. You took more time than usual, taking in his expression briefly before responding.
"Hi James." You whispered, scooting closer to his side, tightening your hold on his hand.
His face dropped, his eyes softening at your vulnerable state. He wrapped his arm around your frame, tucking you closer to his side. The warmth from his body heated your own, your heartbeat slowing almost immediately from the feeling.
"You doing alright?" He asked, his eyes not breaking from your face, trying to catch every twitch and shift in your expression.
You forced a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and nodded regardless of your inner struggles.
"I'm hanging in there. How much longer?" You reassured him, sneaking a peak out the window, only to find the thick forest.
"Not too much longer. We're headed to a safe house— one that only Steve knows about." He told you.
You furrowed your brows in curiosity.
"You've never been there?" You asked him, and he shook his head.
"No, but the less people that know— the better. Your Father won't be able to find you there." He told you.
You nodded and turned back towards the window, rubbing your thumb over the metal ridges on his hand.
"You'll stay with me right?" You whispered, your doubts getting the best of you.
He gently grabbed your chin, turning you towards him. His eyes shined with intense passion, a strong sense of genuineness within them.
"The whole time. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised and your anxieties vanished.
Your chest warmed comfortably, the safety he provided from his presence alone enough to calm you. You appreciated it greatly.
"Okay."
His eyes softened at your small voice, the urge to wrap you up in his arms overwhelming.
“C’mere.” He voiced, pulling you even closer.
You hugged around his body, burying your face into his chest. His body blocked you from the outside world, muting the chaos for a moment. It was peaceful and you felt powerful against him— like no one could hurt you.
The rumble of the car and Bucky’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. There wasn’t a place you felt more comfortable in, than his arms. You couldn’t help but doze off with his arms caging you protectively.
~
“We’re here doll.” Bucky whispered, earning a sleepy groan from you.
You snuggled your face deeper into his body and had him chuckling, gently pulling you away from him, his metal hand smoothing down your now messy hair.
“You can sleep when we get inside, okay?” He told you, earning another incoherent groan.
You perked up, forgetting the situation completely in your dreamless sleep. You forgot for just a moment that your Father was practically hunting you. The whole mess crashes into you yet again, you weren’t tired anymore with the sudden sick feeling in your stomach. In fact, you tensed up— a wave of nausea approaching.
Without responding, you followed Bucky out of the car— hanging onto his arm. You weren’t sure if it was from nerves or the sudden dizzy spell that came over you.
You hoped it wasn’t a panic attack that your body was brewing.
Although you were new to these attacks, having gone most of your life without them— you couldn’t help but be terrified of them. The lack of control you had when one was happening, you were afraid of what would happen if you had a really severe one.
Your grip tightened on his arm and he glanced down at you, taking note of your unfocused wide eyes, face paling with a tinge of green.
He was immediately on edge, hurrying his steps up the cabin estate. It was a secluded wooden house in the middle of nowhere— it looked intimidating from the outside. The fear of being stranded present, but it was a safe house. He had to remind himself.
She was safe here. He told himself.
Steve entered the house first, you and Bucky following after— Steve’s men scoped the area, staying on alert for any danger.
“You guys will be safe here. The kitchen is stocked with food, as well as more food down in the basement.” He informed you two, although the way you were staring blankly ahead— Steve knew he was basically talking to Bucky.
Bucky furrowed his brows at the news that the kitchen was stocked— the basement too?
Steve seemed to read his mind.
“Have known about this place for awhile, just never knew I’d actually be using it. Asked my men to stock the place before we headed out here.” Steve said.
Bucky felt a wave of great appreciation flow through him, Steve was really doing the most and he was lucky to have him as a friend.
“Thanks man, we appreciate it.” He spoke for the both of you— to which you didn’t mind considering your lack of words.
“Just try and lay low— Pierce and Rumlow are going to be finding out that his daughter and her bodyguard are missing very soon— as well as the whole perimeter squad.” Steve told him, making fear bloom in his chest.
Bucky swallowed, knowing this was just the beginning.
“Where are you all going to be staying? You don’t seem to be eager in moving in.” Bucky wondered, noticing the lack of moving in that was happening.
Steve waved him off like it was no big deal.
“Truthfully, we all aren’t built for sleep.” He tried to joke. “We have a small shed just behind the house, that’s where we will be keeping our stuff. Where we will take cover if we need to— but otherwise we got a house to guard.”
Bucky nodded in appreciation again and a part of him wondered if Steve was trying to redeem himself after judging you all too quickly. Despite it being a shitty thing, he didn’t think Steve realized just how forgetting you were. You’d see Steve as a good man any day, even with his rough start.
“And you…” Steve said lastly, glancing down to you before back up to him, “You got a girl to protect.”
Steve reminded him that not only was he here with you willingly, he was also doing his job to protect you. Things were different now though, he was protecting you from the bottom of his heart— not for the man that hired him.
Bucky wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He ended up having to protect you from the person that hired him to you.
Steve left without another word and it left Bucky alone with you. He found you rather quiet, clinging onto him with white knuckles as you continued to space out.
“Hey… (Y/n)…” Bucky got your attention, your eyes focusing on his.
He noticed you still had this sickly green to your usual healthy glow, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Doll, you okay? You look like you’re about ready to fall over.” He pointed out, making sure he worded it correctly.
You nodded slowly and wiped a hand across your clammy forehead, agreeing with him that you weren’t feeling too hot. You weren’t sure if this was anxiety or if you were coming down with something— either way you felt like shit.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Think I just need to lie down.” You mumbled, leaning into him as you felt yourself sway on the balls of your feet.
Bucky felt your weight press into him. He felt his heart twinge at the way your voice sounded so weak and unsure. He knew you had been through way more than anyone could handle in the last couple of days— but he couldn’t help but be angry for you. You deserved better and he would think that until the day came where you got the perfect life he knew you deserved.
“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He told you softly.
You nodded weakly and closed your eyes as another dizzy spell passed through you, making you out all your weight on him. He didn’t hesitate scoop you up into his arms, in the moment worsening the dizzy spell— but after you settled into his arms, the feeling washed away slightly and you melted into his embrace.
“I got you, just close your eyes.” He whispered and you didn’t waste a second and followed his commands.
You were almost lulled to sleep by his strong heartbeat thumping against your cheek, the way his warmth eased the chills you felt.
He had made it to the bedroom, placing you down onto the queen sized bed gently, making sure to pull the blankets back before placing you in.
You didn’t even open your eyes and sent him a weak smile, grabbing onto his wrist before he could move away. Bucky smiled at your tiny hand gripping onto him.
“I’m going to get you some medicine doll, get you a glass of water. Okay?” He told you, his voice ever so soft when speaking to you.
You nodded and let go of his hand, letting it sit on your chest. Your head pulled to the side and your smile started to fade as your exhausted, stressed brain turned off.
Bucky let himself gaze down at you for another moment, getting lost in you. His mind swirled around you constantly and if he wasn’t thinking about you— he wasn’t thinking at all.
He left quietly after he noticed you were out. You needed the rest— considering you’d be up tossing and turning later. His heart hurt for you, all you had to go through recently.
Exiting the room, and shut the door and glanced the the left— noticing Sam standing there.
“Brought some goodies.” He announced and it was then Bucky glanced down at his arms.
He was holding a little bowl of soup and had a glass of water and pills in his other hand. Bucky wipes the annoyed expression off his face and for the first time— appreciated Sam being here. Although he wouldn’t admit that.
“Thanks.” He said quietly, taking the goodies out of his hands.
Sam kept a smirk on his face, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. It was soft and kind.
“You guys are adorable.” Sam said.
Bucky looked at him with an angry squinted expression, so many words on the tip of his tongue but he held himself back.
Sam wanted to laugh at Bucky’s wild expression but waved him off and held back his giggles.
“I overheard you talking to her. No judgement here— I think it’s sweet you actually are nice to someone.” Sam jabbed, and Bucky rolled his eyes.
Of course Sam had to give a compliment while still messing with him— all in one go.
“Okay well, try not to be a creep next time.” Bucky muttered lowly.
“Hey! I was dropping some much needed supplies off— so you’re welcome.” Sam added. turning and walking away, down the stairs to the living space.
Bucky sent one last glare his way until he was out of view. Somewhere deep down in his grumpy soul— he appreciated Sam.
Ew... he hated even thinking the thought.
Shaking his head clear, he headed back inside to you. He was surprised to find you sitting up and leaning back against eh headboard— last he saw you, you were out cold. While he was happy to see your eyes, he hated the way they were so dull. Your whole being looking mentally exhausted— and he wished he could take it all away.
"Hey, you can sleep if you want. I'll stay here with you." He reminded you, thinking that maybe you woke up and panicked that he wasn't there.
You nodded and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.
"Lay with me?" You asked, your voice hoarse and tired.
He softened his gaze, and placed the supplies down and quickly got in bed with you. Slipping off his shoes and jacket before cuddling up next to you.
"Thank you James. I don't know what I'd do without you." You whispered, laying against his chest while he looped his arms around you— holding you close.
"You don't even have to think about that possibility, because I'm never gonna leave you (Y/n)." He whispered back, smoothing your hair down and rubbing your back soothingly.
"I know you won't... but my Fath— Pierce may split us apart." You voiced your fear.
It happened to be Bucky's too, with th way his arms tightened around you protectively. He just couldn't bear that thought for too long or he'd start to panic. He knew it was smart to digest the thought because it was very much possible— which was terrifying.
"He can try." Was the only thing Bucky could come up with.
But it seemed to bring massive comfort to you, as you hugged him tighter, burying your face into his chest and lulling off to sleep without another word. He breathed in your scent, relishing the way your body was fitting perfectly against his. In different circumstances, he'd be at ease— but the anxiety always ate away at him with the threat over your head.
He only assumed the fury that would ignite the second Pierce noticed you were gone. It made him shiver.
~
Pierce stood in your bedroom, holding up a dainty frame— a picture and you and your Mother inside. His lip snarled and twitched at the sight, the way his heart started to pound— his vision turning red.
Pierce yelled out, throwing the picture frame across the room— the delicate piece shattering against the grooved wall. The pieces scattered amongst the room, the high pitched trickle of wood and glass fading away. The only sound left in the room was his heavy breathing.
The door clicked open and shut, and without turning around— Pierce could tell who it was just by the footsteps.
“Seems we have a runaway on our hands.” Rumlow acknowledged.
Pierce scoffed, struggling his posture and fixing his suit and tie, adjusting his cuffs back to normal after his outburst.
“Ungrateful little bitch thinks she can hide from me— run from me.” He muttered under his breath.
“Seems we’ve got some traitors too. Didn’t know Rogers had it in him to go against you like that.” He pointed out, only making Pierce shake his head in betrayal and anger.
“Should’ve known Rogers would stick by Barnes— two were close before working for me. I knew that and still took a chance.” He voiced his frustration.
Rumlow nodded his head, remembering Bucky all too well— so many memories he loved to look back on. Although he couldn’t say the same about Bucky.
“Overall— I wouldn’t worry sir,” Rumlow started, holding onto Pierce’s shoulder with confidence, “I’m always down for a hunt.”
Pierce and Rumlow smirked at each other before breaking into an evil laugh, both of their sick and twisted minds coming together to bring you hell.
Pierce wondered how long you could stay hidden, and he couldn’t wait for the day he found you. Ending things once and for all.
His dear beloved daughter.
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< TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED >
538 notes · View notes
veronicaphoenix · 7 months
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Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Part Three | Words: 10k
Tags & trigger warnings: unresolved to resolved feelings, polyamorous relationship, angst to fluff and comfort, mentions of anxiety, sexual content, including threesome, p in v (protected), oral sex (both receiving), overstimulation, edge play, slight bondage, blindfolding, mentions of spankings, double penetration. (Let me know if I'm missing sth).
Author’s note: here it finally goes :) this is for you all. Thank you for reading and sharing your reactions 💕
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INTO THE ABYSS OF BAD HABITS — PART THREE
“Where are you?” My brother’s voice reached my ears through the phone line.
I stopped the absent-minded tracing of letter on the surface of my Costa Coffee cup and furrowed my brow. “What do you mean, ‘where am I’? I’m in England. I told you I’d be here until—”
“I know you’re in England, smartass,” he retorted. He was likely in his office, settling into his morning routine in Los Angeles, while it was mid-afternoon in the UK. “I mean, where exactly? I got a call from Noah twenty minutes ago. He’s freaking out because you’re nowhere to be found and you’re not answering his calls or messages.” 
“Oh.”
Noah had indeed tried reaching me several times since morning, calling and texting and then joining the iMessage group where Oliver had also added his fair dose of worried and then angry messages. I should have said something, I realized now, at least to reassure them that nothing had happened —besides getting fucked by both of them and feeling very sore—. 
The memories from last night flooded back and I tightened my grip on the cup of hot chocolate, tuning out the noise of the people around me. 
When I left the hotel that morning, I walked far from it hoping a change of scenery might clear my head and provide some clarity on what I’d done and its implications for my relationships with Noah and Oliver. But even after skipping lunch for a coffee at Starbucks, then trying my luck with a hot chocolate at Costa, nothing seemed to help.    
I was doomed, and my brother’s call was the last thing I needed.
Jack called my name repeatedly until he had to raise his voice, pulling me from my thoughts. “Are you there? What’s going on?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m—I’m just in a café. I was feeling suffocated with all the coming and going between hotels and venues, bus rides and all the work and…”
“Did something happen?”
“No,” I replied too quickly, knowing he’d detect the evasion.  
I could almost envision his raised eyebrow on the other end of the line. 
 “You slept with him again, didn’t you?”
“Jack, that’s none of your business.”
“I know, but you’re my sister and your well-being is, in fact, my business. I know something is up by the way Noah was speaking, and there was some Brit losing his mind in the background, too. What is this all about?”
“Jack, trust me, you don’t want to know.”
There was a silence coming from his side and my cheeks started burning. I glanced around nervously, feeling as thought every eye in the café was on me.
Jack’s sigh reached my end. 
“Listen, baby sis, whatever you’ve done, you need to fix it. This situation with Noah has been going on long enough, and you two are lying to each other,” he acknowledged. “If there’s a third party involved… Well, I don’t know. That’s your business but sort it out. Don’t bury your head in the sand. That’s not like you. You’ve always been the one preaching all that shit about talking about your feelings and communication being so important. Don’t shy away from it now. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed, and don’t be afraid of what might happen. You know you can always call me, whenever.”
I was the one rising an eyebrow now.
“How much has Noah told you?”
Jack chuckled.
“Just talk to them.”
Oh. 
There it was again. 
Them. 
I wondered if leaving had been a mistake, after all. 
Not long after my conversation with Jack, I returned to the hotel. 
As I stepped into the room, I was met with a potent blend of sex and masculinity that engulfed my senses. 
The bed was still unmade, a reminder of the recent sinful activities. I noticed the ‘do not disturb’ sign still hanging outside the door and decided to leave it be, my fingers tingling with the weight of my growing anxiety.  
Every time I looked towards the tousled sheets, vivid and colorful memories flooded my mind. I could see myself on top of Oliver, Noah behind me, the three of us drowning in a sea of collective groans, screams, and wails of pleasure. 
 I could also see their slumbering forms occupying each side of the bed. 
 To divert my mind, I looked for something else to do. I needed to sort out my things, indulge in a hot shower, maybe eat something or have another coffee. Instead, my eyes fell upon the lingerie set, neatly folded, and placed on the desk next to the TV remote. 
Which one of them took the time to gather the garments from the floor and fold them so meticulously?
My heart fluttered at the tender gesture, adding another drop of confusion to my ongoing crisis.  
I made a beeline for the shower. Noah’s and Oliver’s scent still lingered on my skin, and the love bites and hickeys wouldn’t leave me for a few days. I had no other choice but take my brother’s advice and pull myself together. 
After a grueling day spent replaying the events of the previous night and a near-anxiety attack in the confines of my hotel bathroom, I decided I had to talk to them. Hiding and pretending none of it had happened would only lead to further complications and would strain my relationship with Noah and Oliver to the point of ruining everything. I couldn’t afford to let it fester and seep into their professional lives. I would not let that happen. 
An hour slipped away while I debated when it would be the best time to approach them. 
Should I text them? Send a message on the iMessage group? Or should I just talk to them face to face? To one of them first or to both at the same time? 
By the time I resolved that this was something that needed to be talked to face to face and I gathered the courage to admit my mistake, evening had descended, and everybody was already at the venue where the bands were playing that night.
I was still unsure of where this would go. I’d had the entire day to think about my feelings and, well, I was still a mess. The only certainty I held onto was that I didn’t want to lose any of them, so I was willing to do whatever they said, whether it was keeping everything in professional terms, remain friends, or… 
Taking a deep breath, I watched as the Nicks and Jolly descended from the stage, their faces beaming with sweat and satisfaction. Jolly squeezed my shoulder as he passed by. In return I sent a faint smile his way. 
Moments later, Noah appeared, descending the metal steps clad in black pants and a tank top. His eyes briefly widened as he caught sight of me. He paused, the towel in his hand frozen mid-motion as he registered my presence. Then, without a word, he continued past me, following the same path as the rest of the band.  
“Noah,” I called out, a tinge of desperation in my voice. But amidst the hustle and bustle of the stage preparation for BMTH, my plea seemed to fall on deaf ears. 
Noah stopped, half-turning towards me. His gaze was cold, and he was angry. That much I could tell. 
I couldn’t fuck it up anymore, so the last thing left for me to do was to be honest. 
“I got scared,” I said, the words catching in my throat.  
“Scared?” He echoed, his tone sharp.
If I nodded, it was lost on me because his dark, penetrating gaze made me freeze on the spot, and when he drew nearer, my heart thundered in my chest.  
“No, you don’t get to tell me that you got scared,” he retorted, barely inches away from me, his voice low and intense. His scent enveloped me: he smelled just the same as last night, except for the missing addition of my own sweat and the magical residual scent of sex.  
I wanted him again. I wanted him covered in sweat from the heat of our intimacy, of our entwined bodies. 
He towered over me, his presence overwhelming, making me feel tiny and inconsequential.
“I was the one scared,” he admitted, his voice laced with pain and fury. “I was scared every time I fucked you in my bed and I found you looking at me with those beautiful fucking eyes. I was scared because I knew I was falling in hard. I was terrified,” he emphasized, the last word dripping with raw emotion. “Then you slept with Oliver. When I got to know, I was on the verge of nightmares. I was terrified at the thought that I might have lost you. Then you told me all those things, and yet, I decided to give you what you wanted even though it scared the shit out of me. It scared me to hell to think of what it would do to me —to us— if we crossed that line with Oliver. And yet again, we did. And then this morning you were gone. You were not there by my side when you made me promise not to leave. So no, you don’t get to tell me you were scared after you got fucked by two men who fucking adore you!” 
My throat constricted, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. 
Instinctively, my hand reached out towards him, but Noah recoiled, stepping back with a shake of his head. Not a single strand of hair moved from its place on his forehead due to the layer of sweat covering every inch of this tall, muscular frame. 
“You wanted honesty? There it is,” he continued, this time his voice low and composed. He dropped the towel to the floor, as if he was… giving up. “You were right to demand that from me, but you should have done the same in return.” 
And yet, I had left him before the sun rose, just as he did with me in that moment, stepping back with his brown eyes locked on mine until he couldn’t stand my gaze any longer and he turned away, rushing out the corner and disappearing from my sight. 
I realized then the severity of my actions. It had taken me years to get Noah to open up, and just when I had managed to get him to, to unwrap another layer of him, I had turned my back on him. 
He had all the right to be furious, to hate me, to never want to see me again.
I just didn’t think I could take it because, with each passing second, my feelings for him were becoming clearer. What I had been feeling for months was more than just platonic adoration. 
Waves of anxiety engulfed me. Some of the staff members, having caught up in the intense exchange, cast various glances my way as I stood there alone, drowning in my own misery. Some of their looks were pitiful, others were dripping with disgust. 
With a dry throat and some tears streaming down my cheeks, I hid in the nearest restroom and in a feeble attempt to regain my composure. I told myself that there was a way to get Noah back, that we could be mended and we could move past this. 
But another voice in my head told me that I had fucked up beyond repair; that I hadn’t just fucked up a wonderful relationship with two wonderful men; I had also hurt them, and that knowledge tore my insides apart. 
I didn’t recognize myself.
Why had I acted the way I did? Why hadn’t I stayed? 
I had always been the one to push others to improve their communication skills. I hated unresolved tension and not having a clear idea of what I felt and what others felt around me. It was something that consistently plunged me into anxiety, so why had I chosen this path? 
Desperation seized me. 
Fifteen minutes later, after washing my face and trying to move the hair away from my face, I headed to the green room. 
Though greeted with nods and briefs hugs from the people crowding the room, my focus was on one individual. 
My stomach knotted at the sight of Oliver’s eyes on me, the look on his green orbs not much distant from the one Noah had had mere moments ago. Swallowing hard, I walked to him, ignoring some lighthearted joke Mat attempted to engage me in. He must have sensed my unease, not from my lack of response, but from the weight of Oliver’s stare as he stood in my path.  
His bandmates had known him for than I did, and it was clear that they knew when to shut their mouths and redirect their gazes away. 
Perhaps I should have felt terrified, but terrified had led me to ruin one of the best nights of my life, so no, I wouldn’t let it happen again. 
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” 
I would need more than a minute to say everything I wanted to say, though.   
Instead of replying, he eyed me for two seconds, twirling the Red Bull can in his hand before addressing the room at large. 
“Guys, can you give us some privacy?”
In another circumstance, I might have felt embarrassed by the sudden attention, knowing that everyone present was likely speculating about why Oliver wanted to be alone with me in the green room and we both had those long faces on. However, after the events of last night, I found myself beyond the capacity for embarrassment. 
“We’re going on stage in ten minutes,” Lee interjected. I could feel his gaze boring into my back while he sent a warning directed at Oliver. 
“Got it,” Oliver replied, his tone firm.  
It took the others a full minute to gather their stuff and vacate the room, some muttering under their breath as they left. 
Taking a deep breath, I met Oliver’s gaze head-on, steeling myself.
“I fucked up," I began, watching him closely for his reaction. The weight of my words sank in as I tried to get my shit together after my failed attempt at sorting things out with Noah earlier. 
I waited for his reply with my nerves eating me alive.
“You fucked up by having sex with me and Noah or by leaving in the morning?”
“By leaving in the morning. I should have stayed. I just… I panicked.”
Oliver narrowed his green eyes at me, a mix of frustration and something else flickering across his face. 
“I can understand that,” he conceded, his tone softening slightly, “but then you bailed on us and disappeared the entire day. What are we supposed to think?” 
Standing up straight, he moved away from the cheap white IKEA table he had been leaning on, circling me before disposing of the can in a nearby black bin. 
Yeah, I should've stayed and talked to them instead of running away, but what was done, was done. Now I had to find a way to fix it on my own. 
“Noah doesn’t want to talk to me," I said, feeling like a whiny little girl for being denied a lollipop.
“I’m not sure I want to talk to you either,” Oliver replied bluntly. His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My panic momentarily increased until he continued talking. "I’m torn between that or bending you over that table and fucking you hard and fast after giving you a good spanking.”
I froze for a beat, my cheeks flaming. Closing my eyes, I dropped my shoulders and released the air I’d been holding. 
“I don’t need that right now. I need to talk to you and Noah before I make it worse.”
“Yes, obviously. This is not going to work if there’s no communication”
This.
I bit my lip, only to get chided by Oliver. “Don’t do that. You’ll bruise yourself.” 
“I know time is not on our side now,” I continued, “but is there anywhere we can meet to… talk? The three of us?” 
Oliver hummed in thought. 
“Considering we need to hop on the tour bus early tomorrow, I suggest you get some good sleep tonight and we talk when we reach the hotel in London after lunch.”
I nodded again. I was defeated, so I would just do whatever they said. I just wanted to fix things. 
With my eyes on the floor, I startled when I felt Oliver’s fingers on my cheek. He was eyeing me from under his eyelashes, a tiny furrow between his eyebrows. 
“Are you sure you just want to talk?”
How could I tell him that every fiber of my body was screaming to be touched again by both their hands, by their fingers, their mouths…? 
Maybe I didn’t need to. Soon enough, he was smirking knowingly, and he pulled gently at my lower lip with his thumb.
“That’s what I thought. But I’m not touching you again until you’re honest with me and Noah, so take the time you need to think. Whatever it is, I’ll respect your decision.”
“Will you?” I couldn’t help but ask, uncertainty coloring my tone. 
 It took him a moment to respond. 
“Hell, no. You think you’re the only one terrified, doll?” he countered with a tilt of his head. “That makes threeof us. I’ve been thinking about you since before I knew you were coming to Europe with Noah and the band. I just assumed that whatever you had with Noah was restricted to the two of you even if you weren’t dating. But then you came back and you reached me with that pretty smile and you shared so much of yourself with me… and then, to make it worse, you let me touch you… and I knew I was doomed because I’d never get enough of you.”
“Oliver, I—” I began, my voice shaking, my vision getting blurry. 
“No crying, come on,” he admonished. “You’re a big girl. You took both of us so well last night,” he reminded me, a flash of lust crossing his eyes. “You can manage this. We’ll get through it the three of us together, wherever it takes us, even if it’s on different paths.”
“I’m not sure I want us to go on different paths…” I confessed quietly, surprising not only him but myself. 
He sighed, seeming relieved. 
“That’s why I said to get a good night’s sleep and think about it. I’ll let Noah know we’ll be talking tomorrow as we reach London, okay?”
I swallowed my tears and nodded. 
When I asked Oliver if I could travel with him in BMTH’s tour bus the next morning, of course he readily agreed. But what I didn’t expect was Noah’s unexpected appearance at seven in the morning on the same bus, seeking me out. He wasn’t as pissed as he had been when we talked right after Bad Omen’s show the night before, but he was definitely not happy that I was evading the band’s tour bus—evading him—.
I was still tired. Exhausted. Drained from a sleepless night. Despite Oliver’s assurances that things would be sorted out, I was scared that Noah wouldn’t accept it, that he would never be okay with a relationship between the three of us, and that he would never forgive me.
That’s why when he appeared on BMTH’s bus, I simply sank onto the sofa when he instructed me to sit, and I let him settle next to me, his thigh and arm brushing mine. I was ready for the worst.  
“I might be pissed at you,” he started saying, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around,” he stated. His gaze had softened as he looked at me, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his almond-shaped orbs. Our faces were barely inches away from each other. The fact that he smelled so good wasn’t helping the chaos going on in my head. “Or is it that you don’t want me?”
I frowned. 
“You know I do,” I assured him. How could I ever stop wanting him? His brown eyes would always held me captive.  
I considered that, if I got both of them, if I was just lucky enough, I would have those beautiful brown eyes and those mesmerizing green orbs gazing adoringly at me every day. Could I ask for more after that?
“I just made this whole situation so uncomfortable that I don’t know how to behave around you anymore,” I admitted, the weight of my mistakes heavy on my shoulders.
His hand found mine on my thigh. Noah clasped his fingers around mine in a comforting gesture. 
“I’ll tell you how: be a good girl. I’m angry at you, but it’s nothing that won’t be solved after we talk with Oli and you… get punished.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his thin lips. 
I could only sigh and sink myself deeper onto the seat. What did that even mean?
“Come back to our bus,” he said. When I took a while to answer, his grip on my hand tightened and he pleaded, “please?”
How am I supposed to resist the puppy eyes? 
“All right,” I relented.
I stood up, only to be met with Oliver’s figure standing not far from us, frame leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. 
“We should have hired another bus, huh?”
Noah raised an eyebrow and after a couple of seconds snorted, shaking his head as he placed a hand at my back, nudging me forward.
“One for the three of us,” Oliver mused, his eyes eyeing my casual outfit and lingering on my chest for a little longer with a suggestive glint, as if he could see through. “Just imagine how much fun we would have had on our way to the big city.” 
I looked between him and Noah, blinking. I was missing something there, some understanding between the two of them that I was not a part of. 
It was at that moment, with the chill of the January morning creeping in through the cracks of the bus and the look the boys shared with each other that I realized that maybe, very maybe, I had been wrong all along, but… could there really be a chance that... things would work out between Noah, Oliver, and me?
Ignoring the racing beat of my heart and the wave of relief and joy that suddenly seeped through me, with a newly found bravery I said, “May I remind you that despite the distraction I’m being, you’re here to work, both of you?” I wanted to sound rational, and I was, but of course they found it amusing.  
“You can remind us later,” Oliver said, leaning over me to peck me on the cheek. 
 “Get going,” Noah indicated, his tone firm yet affectionate. “I’ll be there in a minute. Nick and Matt are playing Elden Ring. Tell them to hand over the controllers.”
I hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two of them. Then Noah put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and squeezed, both their eyes on me, as if trying to send a reassurance to the apprehension taking hold of every nerve on my body. 
Not long after 2pm, we arrived in London, its iconic skyline piercing the sky much like the needle of anticipation jabbing at my insides as I awaited the moment of being alone with Oliver and Noah in a hotel room again. 
Our stay in the city was scheduled for three days. Under normal circumstances, I would have been looking forward to my free time to explore the city’s most wonderful streets and charming corners. However, other than the work-related stuff, nothing was going as planned, starting with the fact that I found myself not dreading to explore the city at all. My thoughts were consumed by the desire to explore something else —two men’s tattooed bodies, the seas of their skin, every imperfection and scar… 
I followed the Bad Omens’ crew into the lobby of the InterContinental next to the O2 Arena, pulling at my suitcase with one hand and typing a couple of texts to my brother while Matt handled the check-in at the reception desk. I waited for him to get the hotel card keys and hand mine, but he never approached me. 
I looked at him, confusion all over my face as I slid my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and saw him the rest of the guys head to the elevators on the left side of the lobby.    
I was about to call out to him when I noticed that Noah was still beside me, a few steps behind me. 
“Where’s my room key?” I asked.
Noah raised a hand, displaying a card. 
Despite his towering height, with the backpack slung over his shoulders, I always thought he resembled a little kid.    
“Oliver wants us to share a room,” he informed me evenly.
“What?” I sputtered, taken aback. 
Oliver and the rest of the band were not there yet. They had an interview in some radio station and the bus had dropped them off at the location before reaching the hotel, so they wouldn’t be checking in until later. 
“We’ll talk there”, Noah clarified. “If you want to have a room for yourself after that we’ll make sure you get one. It’s not a big deal.”
Truth be told, I hoped I didn’t have to get one. I dreaded sleeping between their warm bodies again, perhaps indefinitely. I knew that I was dreaming too much, but it was all I could cling to while I waited for the talk. 
During the elevator ride, I buried myself in my phone again, ignoring Noah’s presence on the other side and trying my damnest hard to block memories from last year’s tour when Noah had nearly fucked me against the elevator walls in some hotel in Las Vegas before we could make it to his hotel room. 
When the door of the suite opened after Noah swiped Oliver’s card on the reader, I gasped at the dimensions of the room. We were welcomed by a spacious common area, complete with a sofa, a dining table, and a massive TV that we were not going to use. Passing through white French doors, we were met with the bedroom. The pièce de resistance? The king-sized bed positioned in front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Thames. All I could suddenly think about was… probably the same Noah was thinking as our eyes met after they’d landed on the huge bed. 
I could have felt embarrassed. Instead, somehow, I managed to offer him a sweet smile that he reciprocated. 
In silence, we began to unpack, though I refrained from unpacking too much, considering that the veredict of our current situation was still to be decided. 
Noah retrieved some of his electronics from his backpack and returned from the common area to find me standing by the large windows in the bedroom, looking down at the river.  
“Why don’t you take a nap?” He suggested, his eyes betraying his concern. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping properly.” 
I sighed. “No, I haven’t.”
“Sleep,” he urged gently.
“Are you staying?” I inquired, looking in his eyes in need of reassurance. 
“Yes.” Of course, his eyes said.
We stared at each other. When the emotions grew too big, I removed the distance between us and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck in a tight hug. 
He hugged me back, sinking his face in the crook of my neck, and the gesture felt like a soothing balm. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or strip him off his clothes. 
It must have been the same for him because I felt him tensing after the hug went on for too long. When he pulled away, he adjusted his pants before I managed to take a quick look at the spot. Guilty.
He urged me to rest for a while again. Oliver wouldn’t take long, he said. 
As sleep claimed me, I found solace in the thought of waking up to both of them in the room.  
Their voices reached my dreams, coaxing me awake. 
I stirred in the bed, stretching my muscles before lifting my head from the comfortable pillows and looking over my shoulder, towards the origin of the sound. The doors to the bedroom were slightly ajar, and I could see their silhouettes through the open space. Noah was seated at the table with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands while Oliver leaned in close, practically with his ass on the table as he talked to Noah, his thigh very close to the hand Noah was holding the cup of coffee with. Oliver had another one in his hand. They spoke slowly, softly, as if they were lifelong confidants. I lingered in the quiet, watching them, taking advantage of the fact that they hadn't noticed I was awake. I was captivated by the way Oliver would occasionally smile at him, and how Noah's eyes would sparkle. 
I sat up in bed as a surge of warmth flooded my senses. Before revealing myself, I hurried to the bathroom on the opposite side of the bedroom.
When I emerged, their voices had died away, and I could hear them moving about the room.  
With hesitant steps, I opened the French doors, my eyes falling first on one man and then on the other. 
"Hi," I said in a slurred voice. 
Oliver was pouring hot water from the kettle into another cup and Noah was hanging one of his winter jackets in the wardrobe by the entrance.
“Hi there, sleeping beauty,” Oliver greeted. 
I accepted the cup of tea he offered and thanked him with a shy smile as I brought the cup to my lips, making sure it wasn’t too hot. Lemon tea.
“Are you okay?” Noah asked with a frown, getting closer to lift my chin with two fingers and scrutinize my face. “Your cheeks are flushed.” 
“It must have been the heating in the room,” I explained, gesturing towards the bedroom. 
The answer satisfied him for he nodded, his features relaxing. 
“Do you want to sit down?” He asked.
I instantly shook my head. 
“I will if I need to, but I rather stand while I sort this out,” I said. Both of them shared a look and locked their gazes with me a second after. “I don’t want to drag it out any longer,” I said, gulping down the next sip of the tea.
“Alright,” Oliver did sit down on the sofa, facing me. 
Noah took a seat next to him. 
Great. Now it feels like I’m back at uni, about to start my thesis defense. 
While Oliver reclined comfortably against the sofa cushions, his arm casually draped over the sofa’s back, he nearly touched Noah, who was leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, hands clasped together. 
Green and brown eyes were fixed intently on me. 
I moistened my lips and hesitated for a moment before speaking. I didn’t know where to start, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I steadied myself against the TV furniture.  
“I left because I didn’t want to,” I began.
Of course my answer elicited raised eyebrows from both.
“What I mean to say is…” I averted my gaze momentarily, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as good as I did when I woke up,” I explained. “Despite… the ache between my legs, I was sure that I wanted that every next morning, and I realized it wasn’t right. I couldn’t be having such thoughts. This,” I gestured between me and them, “is not normal.” 
I waited for them to interject, but they didn’t. Their silence encouraging me to press on.
“After our night together, I thought about everything else that happened before that, and a voice in my head told me that it had all been a mistake: sleeping with you,” I said to Oliver. His features morphed into ones of pain and then, defeat, “and then dragging you,” I said to Noah, “into this without having sorted out first what was going on between us. I didn’t want to fuck up any of our relationships; the friendship between you two, and the one I had with each of you. On top of that, we’re in the middle of a tour and I can’t help but feel that I’m a burden and a stupid girl for dragging both of you into this mess. And then…”
“Then, what?” Noah pressed; his eyes suddenly alight. He could sense what I was about to get into. He could sense it very well, and instead of the expression I had expected from him, —the look of fear—, he seemed to be… excited?
“Then I focused on what I was feeling, on what I feel and…” I took a deep breath, gathering the courage. “I want you both. I’m sorry for what this means, but I don’t want to lie or hide it. After I took on your offer of sleeping with you, I thought that once it was done, nothing would change, or that whatever pleasure I was seeking would be satisfied, that we would have fun… but it wasn’t just that, and things did change. I had all day to think and to come to terms with my feelings. After spending the night with you, I can safely say that I want more. Not just sex. I want more of you, of both of you. Anything you want to give me. I’ll take everything, the good and the bad. I just… need you like I never thought I would, and I’m sorry for it.”
As I finished my confession and realized how much I had needed to hear my own voice say it, I couldn’t bear to meet their eyes. The pounding of my heart drowned out any other sound.  
There was a minute of silence that stretched painfully, each passing second amplifying my discomfort. I wished the ground would swallow me whole. That was the most excruciating minute of my life. 
“First of all, fuck normal,” Oliver said. “Second, yes, this is a mess, but I fucking love this mess if it means I get to have you at the end of the day. I want you vocal and naked,” his words were a firm statement. “That doesn’t seem too hard to me, does it?” His gaze shifted to Noah, the question also directed at him. “I also told you last night that my feelings for you have been more than just those of a friend since a while now. Did you hurt me by sleeping with me and Noah and leaving in the morning? Yes, you did. Do I resent you for it? No. We’re here talking things out like fucking mature adults. I only expect you not to make that a habit, otherwise we will have problems. As for everything else concerned,” he shook his head and raised his hands, “I had my time to think about it, too. And I felt fucking fantastic as I fell asleep next to you two.” His eyes landed on Noah again, who wore a mix of guilt and satisfaction on his face. 
“Noah?” I mumbled his name with a sense of urgency and fear. 
“Tell her,” Oliver ordered him, his voice suddenly demanding. “Tell her those damned three words, man. You’ve waited long enough. Don’t make me kick your arse.”
Noah hesitated, his eyes darting from Oliver to the floor then to me and all over again. 
“I love you,” he confessed with his brown eyes boring into mine with a vulnerability that I had never seen before. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I care to admit.”
“He isn’t the only one that does, doll,” Oliver added, his voice resolute yet tender. 
That was not what I had expected at all. 
Yet, I fell to my knees. 
Immediately, Noah and Oliver rose from the sofa, coming to me, hand trying to grab me to get me back up. 
“Hey, hey. What is this?” Oliver asked.
“Come on, no need for…” Noah started saying.
But as I fumbled with the zipper of Noah’s jeans, confusion clouded their expressions as they froze, realization dawning in their eyes. 
“What are you doing?” Noah asked, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty. 
“Showing you how much I love you both, too,” the words slipped from my lips as my hands moved instinctively, pulling down Noah’s jeans and swiftly unbuttoning Oliver’s, “and starting to repay you for my mistake of leaving the bed without talking to you. I won’t do it again, I promise. Just… I want this to work.”
“It will,” Oliver affirmed, “as long as we keep communicating with each other,” confidence dripping from his lips.
Beneath my touch, I could feel him growing aroused, hard. I glanced at Noah from my kneeling position.
“I was worried that I had fucked everything up by making you share me with Oliver,” I told him honestly.
“You didn’t make me do anything,” he replied firmly. “I’m a grown man. I make my own decisions. Besides, I wouldn’t have agreed to share you with anyone unless I was certain that the other person cherished and valued you like a goddess.”
“Noah and I have already talked about it. We’re on board with this, baby,” Oliver added. 
My heart was going to explode, but I felt a pang of frustration at how ahead they were on this and how behind I felt. 
“Why is it that you two always have these talks before the three of us are lone?" I grumbled; my frustration evident. I pulled down Noah’s boxers to free his erection. He let out a sigh of relief.  
“We would’ve had this conversation as a trio in the morning if you hadn’t disappeared,” he interjected, already breathless, his focus wavering.  
He had a point. 
“Moving forward with this,” Oliver continued, “means you’ll accept your punishment tonight. Are you ok with that?”
“Yes, you can punish me,” I replied as I slid down his underwear. Oh, the view in front of me. A sight to behold. “I accept my punishment; you can do whatever you want to and with me as long as I get to have both of you.”
“Those are big words,” Noah remarked. “Are you sure you’ll be able to take it?” His hips pressed forward. I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around his shaft while reaching for Oliver’s cock with my left.  
Their synchronized moans were music to my ears. 
“I can take both of you,” I asserted confidently with my chin up. Hadn’t I proved it already? I tugged at them, drawing two beautiful, restrained groans from both. “So yes, I’m sure.”
“Oh, the kitten is feisty,” Oliver sang. “What should we do about it, Noah?”
“Open your mouth,” Noah instructed to me, his voice husky with desire. “Show us how vocal you’re going to be from now on, and then we’ll decide what to do with you next.”
And that I did. 
Not even ten minutes later, I was cleaning the last remnants of Oliver’s and Noah’s release from the corner of my lips with the back of two fingers, still reeling from the intoxicating taste of them. 
Oliver lay sprawled on the sofa, one hand pressed against his forehead, his pants still unbuttoned.
“My soul has left my body,” he mumbled weakly.
With Oliver’s words hung in the air, I could still feel the ghost of Noah’s hand on the back of my head, his fingers grazing my hair gently before guiding me towards him, whispering a restrained ‘good girl’ as I took him whole. I could still taste Oliver’s release in the back of my throat, accompanied by the memory of his passionate wail as his legs trembled with the intensity of his orgasm. 
I rose from where I’d been kneeling, steadying myself with a hand on the nearest chair as I still felt dizzy. Despite my spinning head, I fought back a laugh at Oliver’s comment. It hadn’t been my intention to leave them drained before the show. 
“I’m not sure how I’m going to perform tonight,” Oliver admitted with a wry smile, his exhaustion evident.
Whoops. 
“That was a killer blowjob, baby,” Noah’s voice cut through the air from the main bedroom of the suite as he emerged from the bathroom, a wet face towel in hand, pants on and glorious cock tucked away. Before heading towards his suitcase, he planted a kiss on my lips. “You okay, man?” he inquired, addressing Oliver over his shoulder. 
“I need a minute,” he replied. 
Turned out he needed five. After pouring myself a glass of juice from a bottle I found on the mini fridge, I offered one to Oliver, who accepted gratefully. Noah declined, opting for water.  
“I should head to the venue,” Noah announced as he checked his phone. “I have a couple of messages from Folio. They’re already there.”
“I should head there, too,” Oliver said, finally standing up. 
“I will stay,” I interjected, earning their attention as they collected their things, “at least for a while. I need to get some work done on the MacBook, but I’ll make sure to be there on time for the shows,” I explained with a smile. 
Oliver nodded and headed towards the bathroom while Noah placed his suitcase on a bench and retrieved the Adidas boots he wore during the show. 
“I’ll see you in an hour, then?” Noah asked. 
“I’ll ask Matt to let me join him in the sound deck.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he replied. 
He approached me, sliding his iPhone into his pocket before stopping right in front of me. I looked up at him, expectantly. He moved the hair away of my face with tender fingers and bent down to kiss me ever so slowly. I couldn’t recall having been kissed by Noah like that ever before, so I melted in his arms. 
I heard him whisper the three magic words against my lips, a hint of shyness in his tone, but he said it nonetheless, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a dream. 
“I love you, too,” I whispered back.
I didn’t miss the way his smile lighted up his face as the withdrew from our embrace. My body instantly missed his touch, his warmth, his scent. 
“Do I look like a just experienced a mind-blowing orgasm?” Oliver asked from the bathroom door, drawing a circle with a finger in the air near his face.
“Yeah, you do,” I responded with a smile and an apologetic expression, “but it just makes you look more delicious. Perfect for the show.” 
He laughed, dropping his head, perhaps feeling a bit shy? 
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, standing in front of me. 
He cupped my face and kissed me. His kiss was deeper, more intense, harder than the one I’d just shared with Noah. I loved it just as much, realizing that from that moment onwards I couldn’t bear to live without either of those kisses.
“I love you,” he said. I was going to reply that I did, too, when his words brought a rush of dizziness to my head. “No touching yourself until tonight, are we clear?”
“We haven’t decided yet if we’re letting you come,” Noah added from the door, before stepping out into the hallway.  
“One thing is for sure: you’re in for a few spankings; you’re getting tied up and we’re going to edge you for a good while until we’re satisfied with your punishment for leaving the bed yesterday morning and not talking to us.”
Oh dear.
“Great,” I muttered.
“No rolling your eyes. Be good,” Oliver instructed, pointing a finger at me. 
He grabbed his phone and wallet from the dining table, and with a mischievous grin, he closed the door behind him, disappearing with Noah from my view. 
Two seconds later, I let myself collapse onto the bed, closing my eyes with a smirk of satisfaction on my lips, the whole sentiment etched on my face. Nighttime couldn’t come soon enough.
My heart swelled with pride as I watched them from the center of the arena, Noah’s and Oliver’s figures tiny in the distance but looming on the screens flanking the stage, commanding the attention of thousands and stirring a fervent response. Watching them lead the crowd together in ‘Antivist’ was astonishing. I was so proud of them. Of us, actually. Every time the stage lights fell on them and illuminated them, I felt as if the universe was repeating to me over and over again that those two men were mine, and that I was theirs. 
It was hard to believe that forty-eight hours ago, things had been so different. After the events that my conversation with Noah had led to, I had been flooded with insecurity and fear, and a voice in my head had come very close to making me believe that I had screwed up so badly that I should turn around and go home because never everwould Noah and Oliver give in to being in a polyamorous relationship. This would never work, the voice said, and if part of me believed it would, it was because I had read too many books. 
But look and behold, reality often surpasses fiction. And watching them perform, knowing that they loved me and that we were going to give this a chance, that we were committed to making this work, I felt complete. I was no longer alone to grasp with my conflicted thoughts and emotions. We were three, now. 
These two men, with their music and their love, were mine to cherish and adore.
The rough and complicated start we had endured seemed like a distant memory, and it was just overshadowed by the promise of bright and beautiful days to come. 
By the time the clock struck midnight, I was already a whimpering, trembling mess splayed on the bed. My throat parched, breaths ragged, and legs shaking. I had just been denied my fourth orgasm, and even though I would be lying if I said I hated it, I found myself in a state of overwhelming overstimulation. 
Lost in a haze, I couldn’t even discern which one of them was between my legs. 
As soon as we came back from the venue, I was promptly tied up and blindfolded. Again. Noah and Oliver decided to take turns swapping their place between my legs and working me up, first slowly, gentle laps of their tongues and soft rubs from their fingers inside of me, then fastening their pace, heating me up, driving me to insanity every single time they took me to the edge and then withdrew, leaving me whining their names and crying for release, their wicked laughs the only thing I could hear amidst my own desperation. 
In my delirium, I really couldn’t tell anymore whose tongue was on me, whose teeth was nibling at my pebbled nipples.
“Feeling punished enough, love?” Oliver asked from the foot of the bed, giving himself away after one last flick of his tongue that wasn’t enough to make me fall off the edge. Damn him. 
I couldn’t manage a single word to tell him how I felt. 
Noah’s fingers moved the hair away from my face. Despite wearing a blindfold, I doubted I could have bear to open my eyes. 
“I think that’s enough,” he said. 
“Getting softer, huh?” Oliver teased him.
“Nah, she’s shaking. I don’t want her to pass out on us if we keep going. Let her have it.” 
“You said it.”
Their decision to show mercy on me brought a rush of sensation that threatened to engulf me entirely.  
My climax racked through my body as a hurricane, so violent that my back arched from the mattress. If not for the silky rope binding my wrists to the headboard, I might have pulled Oliver’s hair so hard in my ecstasy that I’d have hurt him. 
With sweet words whispered against my hair, Noah’s praised me, encouraging me through my orgasm, but as I began to descend from my high, he withdrew from the bed. Oliver’s mouth left my swollen center, gifting me two loving kisses on the inside of my right thigh. Then he took a seat beside me on the mattress, replacing Noah. 
“That one was for me,” Oliver said. “Now you’re going to give Noah his.”
I couldn’t grasp my mind at what he meant, but soon enough the hands that had clasped my thighs and kept me grounded on the bed were replaced by Noah’s. I felt him kneeling between my legs again. I gasped. 
“Another one?” I managed to breathe out. My mind had still not come down from my euphoric high and they expected me to…? “I—I don’t think I ca—"
“You will, kitten,” Noah asserted, draping an arm across my hip and stomach to keep me restricted to the mattress. “I know you. You’re going to give me mine.” It was an order. 
Two nights ago, I had damned them both for denying me release in their mouths. Yet now, despite this being a punishment and my exhaustion, their actions felt like a reward. I resolved not to complain, no matter how powerless and lost I felt. 
I remained silent, holding my breath, as Noah slid his slender fingers in, easily navigating through my so embarrassing slickness. He quickly found that sweet spot that I loved having touched, and he started licking me, once, twice, thrice, from my entrance to my clit, drawing circles around my clit until the pleasure was so high that it tore a scream from the depths of my being.  
“Don’t hold back,” I heard Oliver say, his hand on my hair, stroking it.  
For a second, I lost my all sense of rationality. I was sure I was going to pass out with the vibrations from Noah’s voice in my core as he mumbled things and his lips touched my lower lips. My first orgasm cascaded into a second and suddenly, I was enveloped in white, a sharp headache gripping me as I came undone. Fortunately, it passed quickly, and I savored every other second of my long-awaited double release. 
Gradually, Noah’s licks and gentle sucking relented, his hands releasing the grip on me and moving to my thighs, where he started rubbing his palms up and down, trying to soothe down my shaking. Oliver peppered kisses across my chest and sternum, nibbling at my chin with his stubble tickling my skin 
“Kitten?” That was Noah. He kissed the side of my knee. “Are you back with us?” 
As I searched for the answer within my mind, Oliver removed the blindfold and untied me, his touch soothing too as he massaged my wrists and kissed them reverently. Though I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes, a mumble escaped my lips as I shifted my head against the pillow. It would take some time for sensation to return to my body, but I was fully aware of the satisfaction that ran through my veins and straight to my heart, and every other feeling that accompanied it. 
The first night together, I had felt safe and cherished. This time, I felt utterly loved, and despite my mistakes, I was sure that I deserved this. I deserved these two men, and I was willing to give them my best self.  
“Love,” Oliver insisted, his touch soft as he lifted my chin, “open your eyes. Are you alright? Was it too much?” 
“Baby,” before I could muster the answer, Noah settled down on my other side, his unattended erection nudging against my side. He placed his palm on my tummy, and the warmth of his body seeped into my skin.
“I’m fine,” I replied with a smile, peering at both of them through blurry vision. I placed a hand on my forehead. “I got a headrush,” I admitted, “but I’m okay.” 
The worried look on their faces persisted. Oliver glanced down at my still trembling legs. “I’ll get you something to drink before we continue. Let Noah take care of you. I’ll be right back.”
He returned within a minute. I had shifted onto my stomach, and Noah was inspecting the light bruises on my buttocks, his fingers tracing the reddened skin with a frown. 
“Shit, that’s a nasty mark,” Oliver mentioned, eyeing two small spots turning purple on my left cheek. He set a glass of orange juice on the bedside table. “Did we spank you too hard?”
I shook my head. “I bruise too easily. Don’t worry. I enjoyed it.”
“You’ll tell us if we ever go beyond boundaries, right?” Noah pressed.
“Yes, I will.”
“Good girl,” Noah praised. “Have some juice,” he instructed, gesturing towards the glass as he stood up from the bed to position himself next to Oliver. 
Both eyed me with special attention as I sat on the bed and sipped the juice, my body feeling grateful for the light sugar intake. After draining the glass, I licked my lips, and my smirk grew as I noticed how hard his erections were, and both seemed to be pointing straight at me. 
How wonderful that they were mine and mine alone.  
Noah gestured for me to approach him with a finger, his gaze narrowing with anticipation. I crawled on the bed towards him, swaying my hips playfully, enjoying how desired I was. With my hair falling around me, I positioned myself on all fours at the edge of the bed, Noah lifting my chin to capture my lips in a hungry kiss. Meanwhile, Oliver’s hand returned to my backside, caressing it before his fingers slipped between my cheeks, eliciting a moan from me.  
“Would you put them on us?” he asked a few seconds later. 
Noah released me, and suddenly Oliver’s hand was presenting two square silver packages to me. 
Sitting back on my heels, I tore open the first package and rolled the condom down onto Noah’s cock, his posture steady and unwavering, watching my hand’s work as a hawk. I repeated the action with Oliver. The familiarity of the task felt oddly comforting despite it being our first time.  I hoped fervently that this would become a nightly ritual from now on.  
“Ready for us, baby?” 
Instead of answering, I straightened my back and slowly parted my thighs, revealing the warmest, most inviting part of myself to them once more. 
My boys exchanged a glance with a raised eyebrow. In an instant, Noah lifted me up, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist as he wasted no time in nudging my entrance with the head of his dick and in one slow trust filling me up. 
I was still adjusting to the wonderful sensation of Noah being inside of me when Oliver’s hands found their way to my shoulders from behind, his touch gentle as he traced a path down my sides until they settled near Noah’s hands on my butt. 
I felt the tip of his cock against my backside, and his voice softened as he urged me not to tense. It was easy for him to say, yet I was surprised at how easy I welcomed both of them inside of me, as if my own body had been waiting for it since the first time it experienced this hot burst of desire, pleasure, and… love.
Five minutes after, they were moving inside me in perfect synchronization, a relentless rhythm that drove me to the brink of ecstasy and beyond, my breasts rubbing against Noah's inked pecs, my back against Oliver's hard tattooed chest. Their alternating thrusts, a mix of withdrawal and surging in, had me moaning their names repeatedly, making me feel full of ecstasy and wild pleasure. Whenever Noah withdrew in a slow, teasing friction, Oliver would go all the way in. 
This experience was sublime, and I didn’t ever want it to end. 
"I wish I could show you exactly what it feels like to fuck you while Noah fucks you,” Oliver growled into my ear, his words sending shivers down my spine that intensified as he nibbled at my earlobe with his vampire teeth. 
At some point, with Oliver’s mouth nibling at my shoulders, clavicle, and neck, I opened my eyes and reached for Noah’s silver necklace. I could see the restraint in his eyes. I pulled at the accessory and kissed him fiercely for a long minute before releasing him. Then, I turned to Oliver, wrapping my hand around his neck and capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss that ended with me biting his lower plump lip, making him growl like a lion against my mouth and eliciting a laugh from me. 
“Touch yourself,” Noah said. He was close, so close, and Oliver wasn’t far behind. I was dying to feel them both tense and pulsate inside me. I was dying.
Closing my eyes once more, I let my head fall back to rest on Oliver’s shoulder and slid my hand down to my clit. Their arms held me securely while they stood, anchoring me in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure. I squeezed myself around them. When I heard their moans and growls intensify, I knew I had them. 
Joining their cries of release, I followed them down to the depths of bliss.
About twenty minutes later, I was lying in bed again. Only this time I had Oliver and Noah on either side of me, spoiling me and giving me cuddles and kisses. 
After the passionate crescendo we had caused while climaxing, the mood in the room was now quiet, and a lovely silence enveloped us as we looked at each other with our eyes shining and our bodies sated and spent, we felt at heaven.  
Both of their hands roamed up and down my body. Noah's fingers traced delicate lines between my breasts and down to my navel, while Oliver's traced my temple and his lips pressed tender little kisses just below my ear and on my jawline. 
It was just perfect, and the only thing that topped it was the way I sensed Noah and Oliver glance at each other from time to time, as if something new had awakened in them as well. Or maybe it had been there for a while and was finally coming to light. Whatever it was, it was obvious that all three of us were enjoying it, that all three of us were happy and wanted to be there. 
That was all that mattered.
It was past eight in the morning when I stirred from sleep. 
My head was resting on Oliver’s chest, with Noah’s warmth enveloping me from behind, his arm draped over my waist and his palm resting flat against my stomach. The sheets had become a tangled mess at the foot of the bed, leaving our naked bodies exposed in a blissful picture. When I wriggled my feet and they brushed both Noah and Oliver’s legs, I smiled at the sight. 
However, the urge to visit the bathroom was urging me to leave the bed. I could revel in his scene again in just a couple of minutes. 
But as I began to shift away from Noah and Oliver’s embrace, preparing to swing my left leg over Oliver’s broad body, a hand clasped my wrist, halting my movements.  
Turning my head, I saw Oliver, his eyes still closed, his face peaceful in slumber with Noah’s sleepy face now so close to his own. Oliver’s grip tightened on my wrist as I spoke.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I whispered.  
“I’ve heard that before,” he replied, his beautiful green eyes meeting mine as he opened them. “I’m going with you.”
“But…” It shattered my heart to think that he still doubted me; that he still feared that I might not be there if he closed his eyes again and woke up a while later. “I’m not going to leave. I promised,” I reminded him with a serious expression. “I just need to empty my bladder. Just give me a minute?”
“A minute. Then I’m coming in,” he concluded, stretching his arms, I couldn’t help but steal a quick look at his morning naked figure. Glorious. “We have shower sex pending so…”
My eyes quickly went back to his. A smirk played on his lips as his words trailed off. 
That sounded… incredibly appealing and undeniably hot.  
To hell with sleep.  
“Are you sure you’re up for it? Aren’t you tired?” I inquired. With the shows and the sex, both might be beyond exhausted, but a voice in my head said, please don’t be.
“Are you?” chimed in another cheeky voice from the other side of the bed. 
Okay, they were both up and ready. Just my luck. Hell yes.
I hurried into the bathroom with a giggle escaping my lips as I knew that they were both staring at my ass as I ran off from the bed.  
Five minutes later, Oliver pulled me with him inside of the tiled shower. I shivered as the water touched my skin, though it didn't take long to get used to the temperature and I appreciated the feeling of being under the warm water and everything that followed. Oliver's hands took the reins and, with some shampoo in his hands, he began to wash my hair, massaging my scalp and thus earning my first moan of the day. 
"You guys started without me?" Noah asked, walking into the bathroom, and letting himself and his perfectly erect, hard cock be seen. 
"Not really," I replied, reaching out to take his hand and pull him closer to me. Noah greeted me with a good smooch, his cock stroking my lower belly while Oliver's fingers went on to massage my shoulders and a delicious spot just below my neck and at the beginning of my spine. 
Never in my wildest fantasies had I ever imagined I would experience a morning like this, soaking wet all over with two fucking gorgeous men washing my hair, massaging my shoulders, my breasts, and making sure the marks on my ass and other parts of my body from their nibbling the night before were nothing to be alarmed about, treating me to my first orgasm of the morning with Noah's long slender fingers as Oliver's mouth played with my nipples and he gulped down the clean water falling from the shower jet. 
I found that washing and rinsing them also filled me with a tender pleasure. They behaved like two good, but mischievous, children, waiting their turn as I washed their hair and scrubbed their bodies, leaving kisses here and there after rubbing their skin too hard and earning me their beautiful moans, which echoed between the bathroom walls. Their jokes also added to the joy; they took advantage of the fact that they were both fucking tall to make me stand on my tiptoes every time I tried to rub the top of their heads. Then they had the audacity to ask if there was a problem every time I mumbled a curse between my teeth. Whenever I reprimanded one and the other for laughing at me, it only earned me a playful slap on my ass.
Eventually, the space was filled with our casual talks, then laughter, and finally, moaning. 
When they entered me again under the warm spray of the shower, I was sure that I was in love to the hilt with both of them, and that I never wanted to stop hearing their laughter and seeing their smiles in the mornings ever again. 
So, as I tensed around them both and their grunts mixed with my moans, I surrendered to Oliver and Noah. Their fingers tightened on my thighs, where traces of the night before lingered, and I happily followed them into the abyss.
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PART 4 + EPILOGUE COMING SOON
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songmingisthighs · 7 months
Text
Pitiful, You're Pitiful
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ch. ii
group : ateez
pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader
genre : angst, mature
word count : 3 k
warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung
a/n : happy valentine's <3
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It had been two months since the night you were intimate with Wooyoung and it was still suffocating to think about.
It hurts a lot actually. But you can't let your sadness take over you, especially when Wooyoung hasn't shown any concrete signs that you should be worried other than your feelings. So you kept it to yourself, you kept your anxiety in and with every trip and team dinner or client meeting, you convinced yourself that he was doing what he said he was doing no matter how nauseated it made you feel. The stress must've gotten to you badly because the nausea was starting to become unbearable and even made you vomit almost every day. You figured it was psychosomatic but since it had affected your housework (aka Wooyoung complaining that you were up late several times, Dayoung grumbling under her breath about you not even caring to make her breakfast, and Woohyun refusing to go to kindergarten because he was worried over you).
Today started quite roughly.
"MOM!"
You barely held onto the countertop of your sink when you heard your daughter huffing from the other side of the door. The pain in your head and the discomfort from your stomach made your body sway slightly and the second round of angry knocks felt like a hammer to your head.
"Mom, seriously, I'm gonna be late!" Dayoung sighed sharply. You could just imagine the look on her face and while you love your children to bits, the way your body was practically shutting down on you, it felt like you wanted to scream back at her to give you a break. But you kept reminding yourself that you're the parent, she's an angsty teenager and you can't create a hostile environment for your youngest.
By whatever force that was working in your favour, you managed to walk yourself to the door and though your hands were cold, clammy, and trembling, you were able to open the door to see your daughter glaring at you. "S-sorry sweetie, mommy's not feeling well right now," you sighed, wiping the cold sweat off your forehead with your palm.
Dayoung hated the way you referred to yourself as if she was still a child or something and she let you know her disdain with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "If you were so against me taking the bus in the morning, you could've at least made an effort to be punctual. I had to dress Woohyun, you know that? He and his milk-drenched chin almost ruined my cardigan and uniform. How is it that I'm doing things you're supposed to? Couldn't you have gotten drunk during the weekends or something?" she sneered, oblivious that it had been a while since you touched alcohol because when you tried to have a glass the week before, you ended up throwing up for some reason. The throbbing was coming back along with annoyance and you couldn't help the sharp exhale that you let out, "Can you not be like this right now? You being disrespectful won't make me move any faster." At least Dayoung had the decency to shut her mouth but from the corner of your eyes, you could see her fists clenching. "Where's your dad anyways? He knew I was not feeling well, he could've taken you and Woohyun to school." Although you were sighing and struggling to move without keeling over, you still forced your body to cooperate, determined to prioritize your motherly duties above letting sickness take over you completely. Dayoung only leaned on the wall while texting her friend, completely aware that you had almost fallen over a couple of times as you changed into your jeans, "I don't know, Daddy seemed to be in a rush this morning. He went out like an hour earlier than usual, humming and mumbling something about meeting someone for coffee before going to the academy."
The lighthearted tone Dayoung used didn't hide the heaviness of those words. You had been rather preoccupied as a mom to really follow up on your instinct so when you heard that, you felt a chill down your spine. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder what or why you felt like that. As quick as that doubt came, you brushed the thought away as you grabbed your bag, rushed your children out the door, and loaded them into your car.
Being a parent was truly a wonder because for a moment, while focusing on your children, you felt like your body was mending itself. The headache was gone, your joints were not achy, and the bloated feeling in your stomach was relieved. Maybe it was stress, a psychosomatic symptom because you had a feeling that something was wrong with Wooyoung and because nothing did, your body directed the feeling towards your health. It's possible, the body is mysterious and things that make almost 0 sense can happen in a blink of an eye.
But once you found yourself all alone after taking Woohyun to his class, you slumped against the side of your car, clutching your head as the pain suddenly returned all at once. It was then and there that you realized that something was going on with you and you needed to get it checked out immediately.
On the way to the hospital, your mind was at war. It was plagued with scary scenarios like cancer one moment before the logical side of your brain reasoned that it could be something as simple as indigestion, acid reflux or even stomach flu. The anxiety didn't die down and you thought that at moments like this, you needed your partner, you needed your husband. Your husband who in the past had gone above and beyond to nurse you back to health even when it was just your allergy acting up. It was ironic that as you smiled and reminisced about the things your husband did for you in the past, your phone let out a long dial tone that let you know that you couldn't reach your husband for the 5th time. The anxiety bubbled up at the pit of your stomach as your fear went on automation, immediately associating Wooyoung not accepting your calls as a bad omen. One by one, your brain started ticking off possibilities such as stomach cancer, bowel obstruction, and kidney problems. Then your daughter's jabs started popping in your head, her jabs about how you drink a lot. It wasn't like you get drunk on wine twice a week like a ritual but it was never like that. You do enjoy the occasional glass but even then, it was slightly less than the amount people usually pour and it never surpassed you feeling tingly. But maybe you had accidentally subconsciously increased your intake and what you were experiencing was liver failure.
Out of all the diagnoses you were fearing, you honestly weren't expecting the doctor to tell you that you were pregnant.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, the moment the doctor revealed the diagnosis, it was like a punch to the gut and you vomited all over the ER floor. On the plus side, you no longer feel bloated.
"I can't be pregnant, there's no way. I haven't been intimate with my husband in a long while," you said after gulping down the water one of the nurses brought for you. "Blood tests are rarely wrong, ma'am," the doctor pulled her stool closer to you and sat down to look at you straight in the eyes, "When was the last time you were intimate with your husband?" It was both easy and hard for you to remember the last time you had sex with Wooyoung. You couldn't even call it making love because it wasn't. He fucked you to shut you up and left you alone like a washed-up carcass. The urge to scream and go crazy was high as it seemed like such a joke to get pregnant from that one time.
You wanted to laugh, scream, cry at how ironic the situation was. How when you tried so hard to grow your family with your husband, you were met with heartbreak. But now that things were verging on collapsing, you were suddenly blessed with a person you didn't even know you'd been waiting for. But your brain hadn't caught up to that point, still in disbelief and maybe even shock.
The doctor's voice was merely a murmur at that point. You couldn't focus, you couldn't really comprehend what she was saying because you were so deep in your thoughts, your bitter thoughts of the situation. You were worried because after what happened to your last pregnancy, it took you a long while to be okay again. There was even a period of time when Wooyoung was the only functioning parent, taking care of the role of both mom and dad while you recuperate. Of course, you weren't expecting to lose this pregnancy too. Who would do that? But the fear existed, the fear remained a part of you and as much as you want to shed it, it was so hard.
Nevertheless, you couldn't help but let your mind wander and suddenly flicker into hope. Hope that this baby will bring your husband back, bring him back to the way he was before the loss you both experienced. Hoping that his distance was because he was also waiting for this same little stranger.
"Hey, (y/n)!"
You turned around and saw Yunho jogging towards you, huffing.
When did you get out of the ER? You felt a buzz in your hand from your phone and frowned when you saw the message. When did you make an OB appointment?
Whatever the answer was, you immediately tried to shove your worries away and put on a smile, trying to appear normal or somewhat okay in front of your husband's friend.
Before you could greet him back, however, he cut you off, "I came as soon as I heard," he panted. "What?" you chuckled awkwardly, not understanding what he meant but slightly worried because you had thought someone saw you in the ER and heard what you and the doctor were talking about and informed other people. "How's Wooyoung? Was it really a heart attack? I heard he hit his head or something. Which room is he in?" It felt like you were the one who hit their head because you had no idea what Yunho was saying. You waved your hands in front of Yunho's face to stop his rants, "Whoah, Yunho, what are you talking about?" Now it was Yunho's turn to be confused. "I-I was informed by the academy's front desk that Wooyoung got hurt. They said they called Wooyoung in because he missed his special trainee class and they got information that he was hurt and that he was admitted here so I thought that he was with you."
In a flash, you turned and dashed to the information desk, Yunho hot on your tail. the both of you stayed close as you go up to the room Wooyoung was admitted in, worry evident in the way you both looked but it was definitely more prominent on you.
Once on the floor, you ran out first to the nurse's station before Yunho could even register that the elevator door had opened. Your hands accidentally slammed loudly on the hard surface of the counter, making Yunho and the nurses in the station to jump slightly in shock, "Hi, I-I'm looking for Jung Wooyoung, he was just admitted not too long ago," you were on the verge of crying because you were so worried and you felt and that you didn't even know your husband got hurt. The nurse checked her computer for a second before looking back at you, "He is on this floor but I'm afraid I can't let you visit him just yet. His wife is in there with him and considering the situation, we were instructed to let him get his rest first. Visitors are permitted once Mr Jung's doctor clears him and you will be notified by his wife." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and so did Yunho at the revelation, "That... That can't be right, I'm his wife," you said, surprising the nurse. She produced a guest sign-in form on a clipboard and muttered to herself, "I- well, there was this lady who came in with him and she told the doctor that they were in their bedroom when Mr Jung had the accident. She mentioned- I- I think she mentioned that she was his partner, s-so I just assumed she was his wife because of the ring on his finger," she meekly showed you the signature on the clipboard but it looked unfamiliar.
"Yeon Harin? That's our backup dancer," Yunho scoffed from behind you, "What's she doing here with Wooyoung?"
Dread washed over you like the water from a river in winter. The look on your face was enough to let not only the nurse who talked to you but the other nurses around know what was going on. Guilt gnawed at them when they saw your face paled and eyes glazed over as if they were the ones who committed such betrayal towards you. However, it took Yunho a moment to realize. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lingered on the name as his brain replayed the information he received. Dots connecting one by one, Yunho felt like he was being punched in the gut. "Oh fuck," he cussed under his breath, realizing what just happened. Realizing what his revelation of the identity did, "(y/n), a-"
Before he could ask if you were alright, you had pushed yourself away from the station, eye unfocused as if searching for a way to escape. "I... T-thank you... C-can, uh... Can I come back later with my hus- Wooyoung's things? W-what time is the cutoff time for visitors?" You did not notice it but your voice trembled, breaking slightly even as you tried communicating with the nurses in a voice so small, that they had to not breathe to hear you clearly. It was obvious that you were trying to hold yourself together, but it was also probably because you were processing the information. The head nurse pushed past from the back of the station and addressed you directly with a gentle, motherly smile, it was a shame you didn't see it. "Cut-off time is in 2 hours which will be at 12 pm and it will reopen at 6-8 pm. But for family members, there isn't really a cut-off time, I'll make sure Mr Jung's visitor is out of his room soon," at least someone had the decency to do what's right.
You didn't even remember if you told the nurses thank you because when your senses returned, you found yourself already walking back towards the elevator. "(y/n)? Hey, are you okay?" Yunho called out, making his presence and proximity obvious to you. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, but how could you? Your assumption was just confirmed in such a public place in a situation the same hour you found out you were pregnant in the same place you found out that your husband was hurt and you weren't there for him. Although his side piece was there and considering that he was with her when he was supposed to be at a very important class due to the account and his own ownership of account management, he must've prioritized her presence more. Yunho didn't press you for a reply though, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, he wanted to make sure he could give you what you needed which was tricky since he had no idea what to do. He too, was still processing the information and trying to make sense of things. Was his assumption even correct? Was his friend really that much of a monster? So when you hopped in the elevator, Yunho didn't know if he was supposed to let you go by yourself or jump in and drive you home. Were you even going home? Why were you even there if you didn't even know that Wooyoung was admitted?
When you finally spared Yunho a glance, the door was starting to close and with a smile that haunted him for weeks, you spoke, "Don't tell Wooyoung about this, okay?" and the door closed, leaving Yunho worried and conflicted because all he wanted to do was go into Wooyoung's room and demand an explanation but with what you said, he couldn't. Could he?
When you heard the door closed, your body slumped to the wall and you felt your legs turn to jelly. Your intuition was right, he was being unfaithful and his timing, as always, was just perfect because the day you found out the truth just had to be the same day you found out that you were pregnant with the baby he fucked into you so coldly. A wave of nausea bubbled up in your stomach and your chest burned. The moment the door of the elevator opened, you ran out and your legs took you to the parking lot where you vomited out the bile that was probably the physical form of your feeling. Though the pressure was relieved, you could still feel the sting and burn in your throat, the bitterness in your tongue, and the dread washing over you.
Hunched over the bushes, you found it hard to straighten up and walk. At that moment, you want everything to stop because it was too much, it was too much for you to bear to bear alone.
Mere realization was not enough because you were in denial, you wanted to believe that it was just a dream, that you were hallucinating, that your husband was not the asshole but you were for wanting him to be a monster so much that your brain had somehow warped reality and created this scenario for you to hold onto.
Honestly, you didn't know what to process first.
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shimonerin · 7 months
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Behind The Glitters
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Content: Idol! Gojo x Makeup Artist! Reader
Tags: fluff, slight angst/comfort, mentions of breakdowns and depression/anxiety, overall really mild (also really rushed and not proofread so I'm sorry TvT)
Word Count: 955
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Being the makeup artist of idol superstar Gojo Satoru is not a feat for the weak. Styling the embodiment of perfection to perfection isn’t the hard part of your job, however. It’s having to deal with the person underneath that sparkly facade that made millions of girls cry and faint in concerts. 
You’ve been with Gojo way before he was even scouted into the industry when he was a teenager with his looks and charm alone. Considering the time the music industry will take from him, you’re sure you were going to part ways as he gets ready to make his first solo debut on stage. Only for him to grab you by the hand and look at the CEO of the company with determination in his eyes.
“You better have an open slot because I’m not performing without them.” He said, a slight smirk plastered across his face. Gojo was far too talented and beneficial for the CEO to lay him off so they agreed to put you as a personal staff for the idol.
Your dreams of making a simple life for yourself was, of course, probably not going to happen anytime soon as long as he’s performing on stage. And God knows how long he’ll stay.
And maybe you’ll call yourself a hypocrite when you realize the job wasn’t so bad. It pays really well and the only idol you get to work on is Satoru, leaving you with plenty of free time. Plus, you get to meet famous people every day, something you deemed close to impossible.
Holding Gojo’s face so close to you, his chin perked up on your palm as he stared at you with stars in his bright eyes. Meanwhile, your gaze was critical and keen, careful not to smudge the soft mascara you put on him.
People wonder, including him, how you can possibly go on with your job with someone like him. How you can just effortlessly apply lip gloss to his plump lips like it was no big deal.
You’d have girls fighting for your spot while you continued to fight Gojo because he’s moving too much and now his eyeliner is uneven.
“Such a pain in the ass.” You’d often tell him while you squeezed his cheeks and forced him to look up and straight at you. He’d chuckle like the cocky bastard that he is before subtly leaning more into your touch with a smug grin.
But of course, the music industry is far from perfect.
Being the embodiment of perfection had Gojo attracting so many unpleasant experiences like a moth to the light. The grating pressure of the spotlight, the suffocating comments from thousands of faces behind the screen, the lingering fear of failure always perched on top of his shoulder. 
At one point, he faced a massive scandal two years into being an idol. One that completely shifted the course of his career. Senseless gossip turned into rumors. Until it turned into backlash and now, he’s still dealing with personal contract and defamation issues.
It took him countless nights for him to calm down and recover. You’d been with him through it all. Through all the breakdowns, the burnt-out states, and that phase of his where he couldn’t be bothered to eat or drink something in two days. You were there, holding out for him every step of the way.
You’d cook for him, you’d quietly distract him from his guilt-filled thoughts even for just a little while, you’d sit with him during his court hearings. You even confronted the director of the company for him. And finally, after three months of getting his idol image back together, he prepares for his solo comeback. And he can’t help but feel that anxiety constricting his chest.
Satoru would sit quietly backstage, in his own private room, holding tightly onto your hand before that very performance. You’d recognize that glazed look on his baby blue eyes everytime. 
“Satoru.” You called out to him in a firm yet gentle voice.
He seemed to have snapped out of his thoughts, turning his head towards your voice. He looks so perfect today. 
Flashing you a soft, cheeky grin, he shook at your hands as if trying to shake off that feeling of nervousness off his shoulder “What? I’m fine!” He exclaimed “I mean, it’s definitely better than the…last few months.”
The group out on the stage just finished their performance, and right after a quick commentary from the hosts, Satoru’s next. You looked at him closely before brushing off a stray white lock off his forehead, tucking it neatly just above his ear.
“I know you are.” You spoke in a rather hushed voice, wanting to keep this moment as intimate as possible, even if it’s just the two of you in the room “I just can’t believe the things that happened. And now I'm looking at you and I just can’t help but…”
Your fingers trailed off to his ear and down to his blush-covered cheeks and you can hear him suck in a breath, albeit quietly. You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence when one of the staff members barged in the room “You’re up in two minutes.” They said.
You retracted your hand from his cheeks and brought it to the pockets of your jacket “You should go. Promise me you’ll give it your best for your fans. I know they’ve missed you.”
Satoru hesitantly got up from the couch, brushing off his clothes and breathing deeply. Turning towards you, he asked the same question, as he always does before each performance “Promise me you’ll watch?”
“You know I always do, Satoru.”
“Then I’ll put on my best performance. For you.”
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