#Please appreciate this I made it with my bear hands

[deputy-videogamer]

Hello Dear, 

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to you, urgently pleading for your help. I appeal to your mercy and humanity to help us. Please don’t be surprised when I say that you, yourself, are my hope—the hope that can bring life back to me and my children. As you read this message, my family and I are hungry, thirsty, and terrified. We are homeless, depressed, and feeling hopeless. To be honest with you, I can endure famine, thirst, and homelessness, but I cannot bear the thought of watching my children die from starvation. 

I am a father of three children, striving alongside my wife to secure a decent life for them. After October 7th, our lives took a drastic turn with the onset of the cruel war on Gaza. Tragically, everything we owned was lost when our home and business were bombed and destroyed. We are now enduring a slow death, living a devastating life in Gaza. 

I am reaching out to you after exhausting all other options that could keep us alive. The basic needs of living and the harsh circumstances we are enduring have forced me to write this letter and extend a hand for help. I believe that your generosity and kindness can make a huge difference in our lives and give us the hope we so desperately need. 

In response to our dire circumstances, I have created a campaign to help my family rebuild our lives and meet our basic needs for food, water, and other essentials in these harsh conditions. My previous campaign, “tahseengaza,” was terminated, but my new campaign has been vetted by @olagaza, @90-ghost, & @northgazaupdates.  

All I ask is that you reblog the pinned post on my page and donate if you can. Your support would mean the world to us. Please consider visiting my GoFundMe page at https://www.gofundme.com/f/tahseen-family-from-gaza-not-to-feel-hungry By donating and sharing, you are helping me, my wife, and our three children survive the ravages of famine and genocide. You are giving us hope to rebuild our home and reclaim a life that was stolen from us. 

I would also greatly appreciate it if you could follow me to stay updated on our situation. I eagerly await your response and thank you in advance for your kindness and support. 

With deepest gratitude,  Tahseen 

Tahseen's campaign has made over $13,000! He is almost halfway way there to reach his goal! He just needs about $11,000 more.

Please continue to donate and share his campaign.

Vetted

[willbyersoffical]

Its the disappearance of Will Wheeler obviously

[skyrigel]

Half my soul

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin!fem!Reader

Benjicot blackwood masterlist

“ You are betrothed to Cregan Stark, but your twin brother isn't happy about it, sulking and being rude — you finally confront him.” [ wc: 1.1k ]

.⁠｡✧Jealous and possesive behaviour, fluff, talks of eloping, angst, hand fiddling, soul mate talks, incest ( no sex but there's lot of obsessing and justification like ‘ we shared a womb dumbie, you belong with me’ jokes ) .⁠｡✧Please be kind to yourself xoxo !!! credits to @strangergraphics-archive for text dividor

Reblogs and comments are really appreciated :)

“ Aemond...Ae—” You ran with your dress dangling around your feet, rushing ahead with your footsteps echoing in the dimly lit hallway.

“ What ? ” Aemond snapped back, his hair whip lashing as he turned back to you, his mouth perched close to disadain.

“ You— why are you like this ? ” You narrowed your gaze at him, he leaned back, straightening up to his full length.

“ Like what ? ” He asked, tapping his feet on the floor, you could have punched him for his nonchalance.

“ Like mean.” You supplied, “ I can't help but notice it, you aren't like..like this Aem, this—” you vaguely gestured the whole of him, “ I don't like this.”

Aemond stopped his tapping, eyeing you, no he was devouring you with the way his intensity deepened, before he cleared his throat.

“ You're mistaken, sister.”

You scoffed on that, crossing your arms against your chest.

“ Are we done ? Because I have things to do.”

“ No.” You said simply.

“ No ? ” He huffed, mouth tightening in a scowl, arching back his brows.

“ Come with me, to my chambers.” you offered, before he could refuse, you held his hand and dragged him face first.

“ I have some—” He was walking behind you, making whiny faces that you no longer had to see to know, you could feel him, he was your brother, your blood, half your soul.

“ No, you are just going to sulk in a corner or indulge in some not so fancy buisness.”

“ you mean the silk street ? ” He suggested and you merely bristled at the mention, it was common amongst men, especially men of court and it shouldn't bother you if your brother is spending time with some whore in exchange for gold. But he's your brother, he belongs to you first and no else.

You shared a womb for seven heaven's sake he was yours first, out of all, his time and company was yours to enjoy. It was your right, always have been.

“ You never learnt how to talk to a lady.”

You turned back to him, as both of you entered your bed chambers.

You settled on the couch with a little ‘oomp’ as he watched you, these days he either watched you or sulked at you and sometimes both.

“ Ofcourse...” He bristled, sitting across from you, “ You already like that stark.”

“ Cregan Stark.” You raised a brow.

Aemond looked away with an eye roll, fiddling with his rings, his slender pretty fingers, you frowned but he took no notice of your concern, sighing you took his hand in yours, calming his nerves down.

“ You don't like him ? ” You meant it as a question but Aemond already looked like he had made a point. He had stopped fiddling, letting you take half his misery—half his pain.

“ I don't need to.” He said, what he felt like a very neutral tone but reeked of malice, “ You are betrothed to him, you like him ! ” He raised his voice in accusation, you couldn't bear that, no, Cregan Stark was an amazing man, a true lord but he's no-one when it came to your brother, your Aemond.

“ But you're my brother, your opinion matters to me.” You leaned, bringing his hand to your lap, fingers entwinng like they were made for each other, because they were —moulded by the old gods and new, ofcourse they would be, He's your blood, your brother, your soulmate.

Something flickered in his eye, the one not covered in his patch, something so close as hope, blazing like fire that ran in his blood.

“If I don't like him then you won't marry him ? ”

You could have laughed, could have hung your head and shaked him because no, ofcourse there was no way out of this marriage, it was your duty towards your family but Aemond was your first family, and if something could make him happy then so be it.

“ I don't think mother will let me see the sun if I denied.” You said, because it was true, He almost winced, “ But I could elope away.”

“ Alone ? ” He asked, now getting cosy as he rested his head on your shoulder, letting his hair prick you on your arm where you cradled his wrist, making small cosmic stars.

“ No Idiot, I was thinking of taking vhagar and you.”

“ Oh.” He said, so sweet that your heart melted, this was your Aemond and not the one who scowled and turned away from you, but this, sweet boy who's your brother, who loves you the most.

“ How far we could go ? ” You asked him, tilting your head to his side, your nose taking his scent.

“ To the world's end.” He said in your shoulder, his voices rippling like waves inside you. You chuckled softly, kissing his forehead.

“ I missed this.” you told him, “ I missed us.”

Aemond pulled back, worrying his jaw but saying nothing, he withdrew his hand to undone the patch on his eye, his blue eye shining at you. You smiled at him.

“ I don't know what I would when you will be gone.” His mouth moved, his lips soft as petals, how many nights you had kissed him goodnight until he stopped coming. Aemond was very soft like his throat would collapse were he any loud.

But you would know him anywhere, just the way his mouth moved or the way he took his breath, you would know him.

“ North isn't so far, is it ? ”

“ It is.” Aemond shaked his head, softening because how could he not, “come here.”

He cupped your face, pulling you closer till your forehead rested against his. You closed your eyes just like him, letting your souls connect in their mist

“ You can come and meet me, we can go around riding vhagar, they say north is beautiful.”

“Just snow.” He hummed, his breath on your cheek, warm and slick.

“I love you.” you whispered, opening your eyes and he was already looking at you, breath drawn in.

“I love you more.” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth, his nose nuzzled in your face for some moments, making the moment stop.

“It's going to be okay.” you smiled, smearing your thumb across his cheek and he pulled you until you were on his lap.

“It will be.” He sniffed in your sweet hair, wrapping his arms around your whole body like he wouldn't let you go and he wouldn't.

You were half his soul, there was no one else you could belong but him, all his, only his.

[librababe99]

Echoes of Her

A/N: Nothing like a little angst to start everyones day! As always comments and feedback are appreciated--My asks are open as well! I hope everyone enjoys - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Summary: Caught in a painful love triangle with Logan and Jean Grey, the reader confronts Logan about their unspoken connection... Warnings: Angst, Hurt without comfort, love triangle  Word Count: 1146 

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The silence in the mansion's corridors was thick, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every step you took echoed off the cold, marble floors as you made your way to the training room. It was late—too late for anyone else to be awake—but you knew he'd be there. He always was when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

You paused outside the door, your hand hovering just above the handle. A part of you didn't want to go in. You already knew what you'd find—Logan, shirtless and sweating, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself far beyond what was necessary. He didn't need to train, not really. You both knew that. It was his way of escaping the thoughts that clawed at him, the memories that refused to stay buried.

And you knew why he was there tonight.

Jean.

The name alone sent a sharp pang through your heart. You weren't naive. You saw the way Logan looked at her, the way his eyes softened, his gruff demeanor shifting whenever she was around. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any confession ever could. He loved her—he loved her in a way that was primal, consuming. But Jean… Jean was with Scott.

You weren't sure where you fit into all of this. You and Logan had a connection, something raw and unspoken. But it was hard to define what that was when his heart was so clearly caught between two worlds—between you and the woman he could never truly have.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. Logan was there, just as you knew he'd be. His back was to you, the muscles of his shoulders and arms flexing as he pounded his fists into the punching bag.

"Logan," you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge you. His focus was singular, every punch carrying the weight of his frustrations. You walked closer, each step feeling like a mile, until you were standing just a few feet behind him.

"Logan, please," you tried again, your voice trembling.

This time, he paused, his hands dropping to his sides. Slowly, he turned to face you, and your heart clenched at the sight of his face—those deep-set eyes, filled with pain and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Why are you here, kid?" he asked, his voice rough and tired.

You winced at the nickname, one he'd given you long ago when you'd first joined the X-Men. Back then, it had been endearing, a sign of the bond you were building. But now… now it felt like a reminder of the distance between you.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Logan huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Needed to clear my head."

You nodded, though you both knew it was more than that. "I thought maybe… maybe you needed someone to talk to."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the walls he'd built up around himself start to crumble. But just as quickly, they were back in place, his expression hardening.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Logan… you don't have to pretend with me. I know you're hurting."

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he looked away. "And what do you want me to say, huh? That you're right? That I can't get her outta my head? That every time I see her with him, it feels like a goddamn knife in my chest?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the raw honesty in his words cutting through you like a blade. But it wasn't just his pain that hurt—it was the realization that you were a part of it. That maybe, just maybe, you were only a distraction, something to keep him from drowning in his feelings for Jean.

"I don't want to be your second choice," you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Logan's eyes snapped back to you, surprise flickering in their depths. "You're not—"

"Aren't I?" you interrupted, your voice trembling. "Because that's what it feels like. Every time you're with me, it's like you're trying to forget about her. But I can't—Logan, I can't be that person for you. I can't keep pretending that this doesn't hurt."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away, the distance between you growing. The look of hurt that flashed across his face was almost enough to make you reconsider, but you held your ground.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "I know you are. But sorry doesn't change anything, does it?"

Logan's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," you replied, your voice breaking. "And I don't know if I can keep doing this. I can't keep being in love with you when you're in love with her."

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle he was fighting within himself. But you knew—deep down, you knew—he wasn't going to choose you. Not really.

"I don't want to lose you," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You already have."

The words hung in the air, a finality to them that neither of you could ignore. And as you turned to leave, you felt a part of your heart break, knowing that this was the end of whatever it was you and Logan had.

You walked out of the room, each step heavier than the last, the distance between you and Logan growing with every second. You didn't look back—you couldn't. Because if you did, you knew you'd crumble. You knew you'd run back to him, and you couldn't allow yourself to do that.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you paused, your hand resting on the wall for support. The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over, and you let them fall, each one a release of the pain you'd been carrying for so long.

But even through the tears, you knew one thing: you deserved more than being second best. And as much as it hurt to walk away from Logan, you knew it was the only way to heal.

The only way to find yourself again.

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Part two

[you-have-a-metal-arm]

‘Til The End of The Line

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, shooting and getting hurt

Summary: You get injured in a mission, and Bucky cannot bear to see you in such state.

Author's Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.

I am so sorry for being gone (school’s been killing me)

I appreciate every feedback! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

“Ready to kick some ass, kiddo?” Steve’s voice was calm, almost soothing, but you could hear the adrenaline beneath his words as the two of you adjusted your parachutes. The jet engines hummed around you, a subtle reminder of the mission ahead.

You grinned, giving your suit one last check and tightening your grip on the gun in your hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna beat the shit out of them.”

Steve smiled, not bothering to correct your language. With him, you were always an exception.

Moments later, the wind was whipping against your face as you both jumped from the jet, splitting off into the night sky. Steve took the left wing—the more dangerous side—leaving you the right. Tony had assured you it was safer, but as you slid through the narrow gap in the door, the freezing cold hit you like a wall. The air inside was frigid, bitterly reminding you of Bucky’s stories about the winters he hated so much.

“As far as I can see, it’s clear here. How’s the situation there?” Steve’s voice crackled through the comms, full of concern. You knew he cared for you deeply, saw you as the daughter he never had, and would have taken a bullet to ensure your safety.

“It’s clear here too, Cap,” you replied, trying to ease his worry.

“Let’s stick to the plan: I’ll draw out the agents while you head straight to the operations room and grab their file IV data.”

“Copy that. Be safe, Cap—and I mean it. If you need help, just call me.”

“I will, kiddo. Be safe yourself. And promise to call me if you need anything.”

“I promise. Let’s fucking go.”

You raced through the deserted corridors of the right wing, a dagger in one hand and a fully loaded gun tucked into your suit for emergencies. The cold air bit at your skin, the silence amplifying every footstep. Suddenly, a loud, thunderous noise echoed behind you. Instinctively, you thought it was Steve, but it wasn’t. The sound was coming from your side of the building.

Before you could react, you were ambushed by over twenty armed agents.

On the other side of the wing, Steve was facing his own battle. He tossed a grenade down a hallway, expecting a swarm of enemies, but only three agents rushed at him. Something was wrong. There should have been more.

“Shit,” you hissed into the comms, struggling against the overwhelming odds. Steve heard the panic in your voice, but he couldn’t respond—one of the agents had him in a chokehold. His grip tightened on the comms as he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, followed by a loud thud that made his blood run cold.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Steve managed to gasp out, but all he got in return was a pained groan.

“I’ll get to you in less than a minute, I promise,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. He could hear your labored breathing through the comms, and it was tearing him apart.

“Steve…” Your voice was faint, each word a struggle.

“Hmm?” he replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the dread clawing at his chest.

“Are the comms… still being recorded?”

Steve’s heart sank. He knew what you were doing, and he hated it. “Yes, kiddo, if there weren’t any changes to the plans, it’s on record.”

You exhaled shakily, the breath catching in your throat. There was only one person you needed to reach out to. “Buck…”

As soon as Steve heard the name, he knew the weight of what you were about to say. Even after four years of being together, Bucky’s name still brought shivers to your spine, thick with emotion.

“If by any chance you get to listen to this, Buck—”

“Y/N, kiddo, no, you’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t know that…” Your voice was helpless, a reflection of your dwindling strength.

“Just stay there. I’m on my way. Please, don’t give up on us.”

But a part of Steve knew this might be your last moment. It was an instinct, a gut-wrenching feeling that he couldn’t shake. So he didn’t stop you from saying what you needed to.

“If you get a chance to listen to this…” You fought to keep your eyes open, tears mingling with the blood on the cold metal floor. Your mind flashed with the future you had imagined—a life with Bucky, growing old together, watching your children grow up. “In another life, we might—maybe we could have grown old together.”

Steve’s heart clenched as your voice wavered. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, but he knew there was nothing he could do except listen.

“I wish I could have given you babies,” you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. “Watched them grow in our backyard… I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to give you that life.”

Your vision blurred as sleepiness started to consume you. You fought against it with everything you had, but the darkness was closing in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that this is how it ends for us… I’m really sorry.”

“And if this is how it really ends… Promise me you’ll find someone else to love, to open up to. Find someone else… Call someone else ‘doll.’ And don’t grieve too much.”

The darkness was overwhelming now. You felt it pulling you under, felt the life draining from your body as blood poured from your wounds. “You deserve to be happy… And the past doesn’t—doesn’t define you.”

Your last words were barely a whisper. “I… Love you, Buck. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that more often.”

And then… silence. The darkness consumed you, and Steve heard nothing but the empty static of the comms. He refused to believe it, refused to accept that you were gone. He sprinted through the hallways, throwing open every door until he found you, lying motionless on the floor, your suit stained crimson with blood.

He scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, his legs pumping with every ounce of energy he had left. The jet’s engines hummed steadily, but inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Steve knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he assessed your injuries. The bullets had done their damage—one near your heart, another through your stomach, and the last through your left arm. Blood pooled beneath you, soaking through your suit.

“Kiddo, hang in there, please,” Steve murmured, his voice tight with fear. He grabbed the medical kit from the overhead compartment, spilling its contents across the floor. His hands worked quickly, tearing open a pack of gauze and pressing it firmly against the wounds. The bleeding was relentless, and he knew he needed to act fast to save your life.

You were pale, your breathing shallow and irregular. It was a miracle you were still breathing at all. Steve knew he had to stabilize you before they landed, or you wouldn’t make it. His mind raced through the limited medical training he had received—enough to get through emergencies, but nothing like this.

He fumbled with an IV kit, his hands shaking as he tried to insert the needle into your arm. Your veins were fragile, but after what felt like an eternity, he got it in. He attached a bag of saline solution, knowing it was only a temporary measure.

“Stay with me, kiddo. Buck won’t be so happy about this,” Steve whispered, his voice trembling. Your pulse was faint, but still there. He applied more pressure to the wound, checking if you were breathing again. It was labored, but there were no signs of a collapsed lung, thank God.

He grabbed the portable oxygen mask and gently placed it over your mouth and nose, adjusting the flow to give you the support you desperately needed. Your chest rose and fell slightly more steadily—a small victory amid the chaos.

With one hand still applying pressure to the wound, Steve fumbled with the jet’s communications system. “Friday, please check if the team is ready for immediate surgery.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Stark has everything prepared, and Dr. Cho is on standby.”

“Can you connect me directly to Tony?”

“Connecting now, sir.”

“Cap, how is she?” Tony’s voice crackled through, tense with concern.

“I think I stabilized her. We’re landing in three minutes, max. Thank God this jet has autopilot, or else… she wouldn’t have made it.”

Tony was silent for a moment. It wasn’t the time for pride or self-congratulation. He was kicking himself for not being more cautious, for not having medics onboard, for underestimating the mission. You were the youngest, the brightest member of the Avengers, and he couldn’t bear to lose you.

Steve checked the wound again. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. He packed the wound with more gauze, securing it tightly. You needed a blood transfusion, surgery—everything he couldn’t provide here. All he could do was keep you stable until they landed.

“Tony, do me one favor,” Steve said, his voice thick as he wiped the blood from your cheeks. “Please… Don’t let Bucky see her like this. He won’t be able to handle it.”

But Tony’s response was firm. “Sorry, Cap. James already knows. He’s waiting at the airbase. And he has the right to see her.”

Steve nodded, though his heart ached at the thought. “Okay, Tony, thanks… We’re almost there.”

The jet descended, the lights of the airbase coming into view. Steve cradled you close, whispering words of comfort that he wasn’t sure you could hear. “We’re going to make it, kiddo. Just hold on a little longer.”

As the jet landed, the hatch opened to reveal Tony, Dr. Cho, and Bucky. Bucky’s face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of you. Steve gently handed you over to Dr. Cho and her team, who rushed you to the medical bay. Bucky stood frozen, staring at the blood that covered Steve’s hands and suit.

“She’s alive, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice raw with exhaustion. “But she needs you now more than ever. Don’t lose hope.”

Bucky nodded, swallowing hard. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the sight of you lying there so still. He followed the team as they wheeled you into surgery, praying with everything he had left that you would survive this.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

THERE’S GOING TO BE A PART 2 by Sunday

Part 2 is up y’all

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION 

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!! 

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap MacTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.  

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick 

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz. 

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>

[55sturn]

✮ NEVER GONNA BE JUST YOU

disclaimers: swearing, suggestive content, minor amount of smut [ choking,unprotected sex, cum play ], reader is lowkey a player, slight slut shaming, toxic!reader, plot twist ??

concept inspired by: @et6rnalsun’s recent fic & @mattscoquette !

“fuck baby, you feel so good wrapped aroun’me.” chris grunts, his words slightly slurring together as his thrusts grow a lot less particular as he chases his high, and his breath grows ragged the closer he nears his orgasm, he feels his balls tighten and he’s quick to pull out of you, shooting thick ropes of cum all over your stomach as you come down from your high, your thighs twitching slightly. he’s slightly entranced by the sight of you covered in his cum, and before he can stop himself, he’s dragging his finger around in the sticky mess, writing out his name before bringing that same finger to your mouth, encouraging you to suck it clean before pressing a messy kiss to your lips.

he’s quick to drop his full weight on top of you, your skin sticking together with a mixture of sweat, cum, and heat, your chests heaving as you both try to regulate your bodies after multiple orgasms.

“chris i need wipe this off of me before i fall asleep, i feel way too sticky. can you please grab me a shirt from that hamper?” you hum, batting your tired eyes at him, pouting you lip out as you limply gesture to the white hamper against the wall. he’s quick to press a gentle kiss to your head and climb off of you, grabbing a damp but warm cloth from the bathroom.

you lose yourself in your thoughts momentarily as chris wipes your stomach down before returning to the bathroom to clean himself off. you start off appreciating how sweet chris is, but also finding it a bit irritating how clingy he’s grown, despite him knowing that the two of you are only fucking, but then the guilt begins to gnaw at you, knowing that you’re leading him on and using his kindhearted and obsessive nature to your advantage, and you’re about to dwell on it but the bathroom door swinging open, hitting the wall behind it with a resonating thud breaks you from your trance.

it shocks how quickly his demeanour has changes, he went from the sweet, doting boy at heart that you had a tendency to manipulate, to someone you could hardly recognize because of anger, hatred, and something almost possessive in his eyes, in the blink of an eye.

“what the fuck y/n?” he snaps, his nostrils flaring as he looks between you and the shirt in his hand, and the gears in your mind come to a halt as you stare at the shirt that chris is fisting between his fingers in anger.

you couldn’t believe your other fuck buddy had been so careless as to leave his shirt on your floor. and how had you not noticed it when you did laundry?

“care to explain this?” chris seethes, stepping closer to you as an unmistakable spec of hurt flashes in his eyes as he begins to connect the dots between the shirt and the way the sight of it has your mouth running dry.

that damn pink hershey’s shirt with the stupid fucking teddy bear on it. the same shirt that made you melt every time it was worn.

“y/n, i’m not fuckin’ around, why the fuck is my brother’s shirt here?” he yells, hurt and confusion clouding his mind as you race to find an explanation, the audacity he has to even consider yelling at you when you had explicitly expressed that you two weren’t exclusive, and you were never shy about your other hooks up.

“chris, baby, i told you, it was never gonna be just you.” you state, your voice calm and collected, the simplicity of your comment further angering chris as he scoffs at you, dropping the shirt onto the floor as if it was made up of a contagious disease.

“you’re just anotha’ fuckin whore ain’t ya?” he chuckles, the bitterness of his words giving a sharp clip to the way he speaks to you, his boston accent slipping between the cracks as he stares at you, his once warm eyes now cold and hardened.

“i never said i wasn’t. now you can either climb back in bed, or you can leave and i can finally answer the texts that matt has been spamming me with for the last hour.”

“you’re fuckin’ unbelievable.“ he spits, grabbing his sweats and quickly tugging them up his legs before picking his shirt up, looking at it and tossing it to you.

“keep it, since you like to keep trophies from all the men you fuck.”

“thanks! it’ll make a great addition to the collection!” you chuckle in response, marveling at the royal blue fabric before tossing it the floor, proving that he was just another body to keep you warm.

“i’m outta here.”

“okay tell matt to come by when you get home.” you call out as he exits your room, earning a slam of your front door in response as you roll your eyes, grabbing you phone before unlocking it, pulling up matt’s contact and sending him a text.

y/n: chris knows abt us now lmfao

y/n: u left ur pink shirt here and he found it

matt: Guess we’re even then lol. I’ve known the two of you were fuckin for how long since he decided to brag about it

matt: Damn I was wondering where that shirt went😂

y/n: yeah yeah whatever, come over?

matt: See u in fifteen

STARS CORNER im not back, i just had an idea after reading the credited fic above and decided to put my own twist on it before queuing + posting for y’all.

SIDE NOTE i will be responding to all the kind, heartfelt, and sweet asks and anons when i return. thank you for the constant support you guys show me, it truly doesn’t go unnoticed. and thank you for 2.6k, i hadn’t thanked y’all yet but i truly love you all. bye bye now, i’ll see you all soon, hopefully!

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS OF MY WORK ARE NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED !

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 013 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. toxic characters & toxic relationships. 18+. smut (nothing explicit.) unedited. suggestive. fluff. alcohol consumption.

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3 ALSO!! i am very bad at describing places (i tried my best) but just so you guys can visualize things better, i included photos of where this chapter took place at the end of the fic

wc. 12.1k

series masterlist 

[ THIRTEEN ] it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. i’ve done the math, there’s no solution. we’ll never last – why can’t i let go of this?

“Rin,” you stopped his hands from going any further, your fingers closed around his. He paid you no mind as he merely flicks your hands away. The top three buttons of your blouse have already been popped open, the white lace of your bra visible to his eyes. They visibly darkened with lust. Grasping his hand again, you held him tighter this time around, preventing him from exposing you to him. “Rin, please. Stop.”

Rintaro finally stopped. His fingers froze in the air, his thumb caressing the button like he’s fighting back an itch to completely rip your blouse apart. Maybe on another day, you would’ve found his hunger to be flattering. But not here, not in the middle of nowhere, and definitely not when he smelled like smoke. Not when he smelled like all the horrible things he’d gotten from her.

Cocking his brow, he leant back at the hood of his car. He stared up at you, his pretty eyes narrowed into slits.

“What? You don’t want me to touch you?”

You vehemently shook your head no. You awaited it – some sort of angry response from him. It wasn’t often you rejected his advances, but it was written crystal clear on your face: he made you uncomfortable. He found it sickening, how you looked at him like he was some vermin.

“Fine,” he spat out, rounding the vehicle as he opens his door. “Get in the car.”

“But… I can’t just leave–”

“I’ll have someone take care of it. Get. In. The. Car.”

You glance back at your car. Kuroo’s cellphone was still inside, along with your gun engraved with your family crest. If anyone were to peek inside, it wouldn’t be far to assume that you were out to kill someone. Not to mention, it was your private vehicle, not the Palace’s issued ones. Quickly, you raise a finger to Rintaro and ask him to wait, running back to your car before slipping the phone inside your pockets. In less than a minute, you’d opened the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt.

The silence was painful.

There’s nothing but the smooth hum of the car’s engine, the rhythmic tapping of Rintaro’s hand against the wheel. He didn’t bother turning the radio on, and you were too lost staring at the trees whizzing by to strike up a conversation. There were too many things to ask, too many answers that demanded your attention, and so little time for it all. You wanted him to break the silence first, until sleep beat you to it. With the clock reading half an hour past four, you found yourself nodding off, shaken awake by the constant road bumps ahead.

Six am.

You straightened your back. The scenery had shifted from the dense forestry. Beside you, Rintaro looked half-awake, cracking his neck from side to side.

You watched as the gentle fingers of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold. With the car travelling along the coastal road, you glanced sideways, captivated by the mesmerizing vista unfolding before your eyes. You’d seen the sea before, but never at this time – never when the sun was beginning to stretch its arms as if to embrace it. The sea, that of liquid sapphire, shimmered under the first light of day, each tiny, soft wave crested with a translucent luminescence – something both haunting and mysterious that made it hard to look away. It was deep and bewitching, like it would whisper to you the secrets of the deep if you looked close enough.

Rolling the windows down, you gazed at the horizon – right where the ocean kissed the sky, and birthed with it the symphony of color. Pastels of pink and lavender blended into a cerulean blue. The sun, a radiant gem emerging from its slumber, cast a golden path across the water and shimmered across the ripples, inviting the soul to wander its glittering trail. You felt the need to reach out to it – to skirt your fingers across the horizon, wondering if somehow the sea could drown you in its beauty and your pain could be forgotten.

As the car cruised along, your eyes remained transfixed on the sea. Drawn to its endless, vast rhythmic dance of a push and pull. The waves rolled in a timeless cadence, their gentle roar a comforting lullaby. Each surge and retreat of the water mirrored your own steady breaths – in and out – a silent meditation that made you feel as if everything was almost okay.

Through the open window, the scent of salt and the crispness of morning air filtered through. It filled the car with the essence of the sea, masking the scent of Rintaro’s stumped cigarette. For a moment, you were filled with a profound sense of peace. A moment of stillness amid the journey. The sea, with its infinite expanse and eternal ebb, seemed to hold all the answers. It wasn’t like Itachiyama whose beauty brought calmness to your soul and silenced all your fears. It was entirely a beauty of itself, one that haunted you and prodded at your bones, picking your soul apart and gently sewing back them together.

Like an unstoppable force, like watching a car crash into another – it was hard to take your eyes off of it.

“Where are you taking me?” you broke the silence after a while, choosing to keep the windows rolled down. Beside you, Rintaro spared you a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Nodding, you propped your chin onto your arm. Now that you were awake, the events from the past few hours finally caught up to you. The meeting with Kuroo, Atsumu’s sex tape, being chased by Rintaro, and your call not reaching Kiyoomi – Kiyoomi. Gods. He must be so worried. But your phone’s battery died long ago, and there was a bigger matter at hand – Rintaro’s accusation, and the way he’d hid his hurt with a smirk.

It was a side of him you’d never seen before.

Sure, he’d been angry when you did anything that concerned Iris, or when you left for Itachiyama after his displeasure about it. But this time, he looked more hurt than angry, as if he couldn’t believe you would go so far.

You rolled the windows up. The sounds of the humming of the car and the breeze slipping through muted.

“Rin,” you mumbled, toying with your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t try to kill you, you know.”

Your husband snorted. “Oh, you didn’t? Could’ve fooled me. It’s not every day you see your wife’s new maid slipping something in my drink, but if you truly did not have anything to do with it, then I guess it’s safe to assume your maid is out to assassinate me,” grip tightening on the wheel, he forced himself to exhale through his nose. “Do you deny this?”

“Airi has nothing to do with this.”

“Do enlighten me, then, because I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” he gritted his teeth, and you were shocked into silence. It was quite the confession coming from him. “I have made mistakes. Many of them. I have hurt you, again and again, but do you really wish to end my life?” he shot you a look, only to turn his head away – staring out into the sea before you. You wondered if it’s because he couldn’t stand to look at you, or he didn’t want you to see whatever might show in his face.

“I didn’t think you could be so cruel, Princess.”

Your face fell, the light in your eyes dimming as his words sunk in. “I told her to crush some sleeping pills in your tea so I could sneak out without you noticing. I wasn’t trying to ‘kill’ you.”

“And where would you go without me? A lady like you should never leave the castle premises unsupervised,” he reminded, the edges of his lips curling into a dissatisfied smile. “Unless you don’t want me knowing who it is you’re meeting.”

Sighing, you let your head drop to your hands. “Enough with the accusations, Rin. How many times do I have to tell you I have never cheated on you?” you rolled your eyes at him, your arms crossed to your chest, irked. “If you really must know, I met up with Kuroo Tetsurou – yes, the man who wrote that article about your tryst and ruined your reputation. You know what I did? I paid him to disappear from this country, and to completely erase any traces of what he’d written. I did it for you. I did it because I no longer want to see you suffering from the hands of another, so don’t you dare go around treating me like I’m your enemy, because at the end of it all, I’m the only one on your side. Do you understand?”

It was a half lie, but a white lie in your defense. The end would justify the means. Rintaro didn’t have to know the whole truth, not when there was a chance he’d ruin your plans. He only needed to let his guard down, to completely trust you on this because that last part you would not lie about.

He could hurt you – take your heart and crush it until there was nothing left. But it would not change the fact that you were his wife, and he your husband. It wouldn’t change the fact you were bound by vows you’d spoken in front of Her Majesty, in front of the Gods they worshipped in a sacred chapel. You would never, and could never, go as far as to make Rintaro detestable in the eyes of others. He was yours to hate and love. No one else could take that right away from you. He simply wasn’t for the world to pick apart.

Silence clouds the car. With a quick glance, you saw his grip loosening on the steering wheel, his shoulders visibly relaxing as his brows pinched together. “You did that… for me?”

You scoffed. “You have no idea the things I would do for you.”

“Then why keep it a secret from me? I would’ve gone with you. I could’ve sorted it out myself.”

“You couldn’t. You’ve barely been touching any of your work ever since the scandal happened,” you pointed out, holding your hand up to flash him your ring – the one you never dared took off, not even in the shower, and especially not when Kiyoomi had been nudging his way into your heart. “I’m your wife. I promised to share the burden of the crown with you. If a time comes that you’re unable to handle the troubles coming your way, then I will step in and do it for you.”

Rintaro blinked rapidly, as if clearing away the images that troubled him. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I’m just… You said you hated me, and that you regretted marrying me. So when I saw Airi mess with my tea, I immediately thought you wanted me out of your life.”

You looked out the window. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t help but think to yourself – if only it were that easy.

“You’re my husband. I would be devastated if you died.”

Rintaro drove around for a few more minutes before finally arriving in a gated community. Although community was a stretch, considering there were no other houses around. Not a single person could be seen. The entire beach was closed off from that point on. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions either, simply smiling to himself as he drove past a grove of trees until you broke through – the sounds of the waves audible and muted, as if they were from a distance. Before you stood a large white mansion, hidden by the tall trees, but peeking just enough to be highlighted by the golden dawn.

“We’re here,” Rintaro announced, bouncing out of his seat to run around your side and open the door for you. You couldn’t help but snicker at his sudden chivalry. Nevertheless, you slipped your hand into his, following him as he led you to the pebbled walkway leading up into the house. “I bought this beach for us.”

“Rin, you can’t do that. The beaches should be open to the public.”

Rintaro squeezed your hand. There was a lightness to his step, almost as if he was floating through air – or maybe your reassurance had simply made his body feel lighter. “Indulge me a little, wife. Let me show you around first, and if you really don’t like it… then I’ll put it up for sale, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was hard to, anyway, when he struggled to open the doors as he refused to let go of your hand. After fumbling for the keys, he finally got them in and pushed the doors open.

You could see much from where you stood. At the break of dawn, the sun’s first golden rays began to dance across the tranquil surface of the sea, casting a gentle, shimmering glow that greeted the grand beach house with a tender embrace.

The luxurious abode, with its elegant arches and expensive terraces, stood proudly against the backdrop of the awakening sky. Its hues of pink and orange melded seamlessly into the lingering blue of the night. Your eyes widened, watching as the colors bounced off the water and reflected back onto the sturdy white pillars of the house’s exterior. The soft, ambient light illuminated its exquisite architecture, revealing intricate details and the soft contours of its stone façade.

Stepping onto the grounds for the first time, you let your hands run through the textures of the pillars, feeling its smoothened out surface. 

The house, a vision of opulence and warmth, beckoned you with its ethereal allure. Each window and glass wall, strategically placed, welcomed the sunrise with open arms, allowing the light to flood the interior spaces with a radiant glow. The reflections danced upon the surface of the pristine pool outside, playful patterns dancing along the walls and the ceiling. It made the entire house seem alive with its morning gentle touch.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat – stunned by the beauty of it all.

You moved towards the edge of the expansive backyard, where the manicured lawn stretched out like a verdant carpet leading directly to the soft sands of the secluded beach. The sound of the waves, a soothing melody, called out to you. It mingled with the rustling leaves of the palms that framed the house. The air, crisp and salty, invigorated your senses and filled you with a sense of profound peace and connection.

Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro was drunk on your expressions. He lit up each time you smiled at a corner, his heart blooming and swelling he felt it would burst out of his chest. For one of the few times in his life, he felt proud of himself.

“I bought this mansion a year after I started courting you,” he said, his gaze transfixed on the way your hands were still intertwined. It caused him to trail after you like a lost puppy; not that he minded. He just liked being here with you. With that thought in mind, he absentmindedly caressed your wedding ring with the pads of his thumb. “I didn’t have concrete plans in mind yet, but I knew I would end up marrying you someday, and the Palace didn’t seem like a good place for us to enjoy our married life. But here… we can live separately from the rules imposed on us. Here, we are not Princess or Prince. It could just be the two of us.”

You bit your lip, your heart hesitant. It fluttered at the sincerity of his words, swooned at the revelation he’d been planning this for years. You could imagine it – Rintaro walking through this property a year into your courtship, the young Prince nodding to himself because he just knew this place would be yours.

“It’s still mostly empty, of course. I didn’t want to decorate it without asking for your opinions, and I figured maybe you’d want to take the lead in that area,” he encouraged with a smile.

And really, who could say no to that? When he gave you such a beautiful house and handed you the reigns to do as you pleased, then you would turn this house into something you could call your home.

Every detail of the beach house was meticulously designed for both grandeur and intimacy. The spacious terraces offered the perfect setting for private dinners and joyful gatherings with family and friends, promising countless evenings of laughter and love under the starlit sky. You could already envision long, leisurely breakfasts on the balcony, the sea’s gentle murmur a constant, comforting presence.

You would sip your morning coffee in your nightgown, reading the newspaper, or letting your eyes close as you let the sea breeze gently wake you up from the remnants of your slumber. Behind you, your husband would sneak up in nothing but his sleep shirt, his voice deep and croaky with sleep laced to it. He would wrap his arms around your waist, coo good morning in your ears as he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

It was the perfect house to live the married life in.

The moment is too beautiful that it let the walls you’d put up slowly crumble. It gave way for your mind to entertain the thought of hope, of second chances, of a life where Rintaro apologized for everything he did and you forgave him for it. A life where he finally left Iris behind, and moved in here with you – being a loving husband and wife like he’d promised.

Regardless of his mistakes, you couldn’t deny he chose this haven with care.

He understood your yearning for a sanctuary that felt both majestic and personal. You could see his vision in every corner of the house – in the way the morning light filled the rooms, in the carefully carved openness that invited the outside world to become part of your home, and in the promise of countless memories waiting to be made within its walls.

“It’ll get very bright here in a few minutes,” he murmured, his voice echoing through the spacious expanse. “I know you hate dark places, so I wanted something that had a lot of room for sunlight.”

You hummed. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I only had you in mind when I was looking for our place.”

Tugging at your hand, you let Rintaro drag you upstairs and show you around. “This is our bedroom,” he gestured, and you stepped inside, glancing back at him and down at your intertwined hands in a silent query. Rintaro smiled, nodding as he gently let go of your hand to let you look around the room.

Taking small, careful steps away from him, you let your eyes take in the sight before you. The room was a sanctuary of tranquility, bathed in the soft, warm hues of the rising sun. The bed, dressed in crisp white linens with accents of deep red, invited you to sink into its comfort. Candles flickered softly on a low, modern nightstand, casting a gentle, ambient glow that complemented the natural light streaming through the expansive glass wall.

The true masterpiece, however, was the view.

The entire far wall of the room was made of glass, offering an unobstructed vista of the ocean beyond. Palm trees gently swayed in the morning breeze, framing the horizon perfectly.

You moved closer to the glass, your heart swelling with awe and contentment. Outside, on the spacious terrace, two elegant lounge chairs awaited, promising peaceful mornings and serene evenings spent with the one you loved. The lush greenery surrounding the room blended seamlessly with the view, making it feel as though you lived in harmony with nature.

“Want to see the best part?”

You giggled. “You mean to tell me something could get better than this?”

“Of course. You know I’m only choosing the best for you.”

Leading you into another room at the end of the hall, Rintaro smirked – proud and barely holding back his excitement as he swung the door open. As you stepped inside, a gasp of pure delight escaped your lips – followed by bubbling laughter in disbelief.

The morning sun streamed through the grand, arched windows, casting a warm, golden light that danced sprightly across the room. The room seemed almost enchanted, a perfect blend of nature and comfort, invite you to lose yourself in your own world and let the time pass you by.

Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with volumes of all kinds, promising endless hours of exploration and discovery. The rich, earthy scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. A graceful spiral staircase wound its way up to a second level, where more books awaited, their spines gleaming in the soft light.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the cozy seating area, where a plush of sofa beckoned you to sink into its depths and get lost in a story. The soft, muted colors of the cushions and throws added a touch of warmth, making the space feel lived-in and inviting. A quaint reading lamp stood nearby, ready to cast its gentle glow over late night reading sessions. Behind you, you could hear Rintaro move through the room as well – gently picking up knick-knacks placed along the way.

“–And here is your reading corner, or… whatever you’d like it to be really. If you want to crochet, or paint with Tobio, you can use this room.”

“I thought you said this place was empty,” you joked, gazing up at the myriad of books displayed.

“Yes, it is,” smiling to himself, he leant against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, content to let you indulge yourself by exploring. “But I made sure to fill this place up first, as I figured this would be the room you’d spent the most time in. I went ahead and collected all the books I know you liked, along with other things I thought you would enjoy.”

There it was again – the thumping of your heart over his words.

It was too easy to get carried away, especially when Rintaro was being unnecessarily sweet. It almost felt as if… nothing was wrong at all. And for a moment – just for now – you let yourself forget everything and focused on the present. With your heart tucked and hidden away for safety under your sleeve, you pointedly averted your gaze from your husband. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him like that – content, unguarded, with hooded eyes watching you tenderly. Like he was in love with you, and he meant it when he said he wanted no one else to spend his future with.

You turned your attentions back to the room, the lush greenery that adorned the space, with ferns and potted plants that brought a taste of the outside world in.

You could already imagine yourself curled up on the sofa with a book, the sounds of the waves gently crashing in the background, or perhaps sitting by the window on a rainy day – the patter of raindrops providing a soothing soundtrack to your literary adventures.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in adoration, even as you tried so hard to fight against it.

The Prince had carefully curated this heaven for you. He’d ensured you could have a space where you would spend countless mornings in, a cup of tea in hand, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Afternoons would be spent exploring the vast worlds in the many books that lined the shelves, each one a new journey waiting to be embarked upon.

This reading room was more than just a space; it was an escape from the world. A place where you could retreat and recharge, surrounded by the things you loved most. As you stood there, bathed in the soft morning light, you were bombarded by a mix of emotions – an internal debate whether to feel elated or depressed.

How could someone know you so well, and still hurt you in the process? Love truly was a dangerous thing.

However, you pushed that thought out of your mind. You did not want any arguments tainting this space, this home. Rintaro’s efforts didn’t deserve to be shattered, either. You would save it for another time. For now, you would explore every inch and corner of this house. “And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess,” his eyes lit up, and you can see it already.

Rintaro must’ve seen it, too – the scene of your children running around, chasing other. Your little boy would be screaming at the top of his lungs, your little girl blowing bubbles as her hair bounced around her cute little face with each tiny step she took. If she ever tripped, her brother would immediately be there for her. He’d cradle her soft cheeks in his equally small hands, wiping her tears away and telling her it’d be okay. And then they would run to their parents for comfort – Rintaro would bring them into his arms, pressing kisses to their foreheads before he brought them back to their mama. Then, you’d pull out the first-aid kit, plastering band-aids on every scraped knee and kissing all the boo-boos away.

It was a beautiful thing to imagine. Letting your kids grow up in a beautiful place, with a loving father who would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness, building a family.

It put a smile to your face. “You do know I can’t control who comes out first, right?”

“Yes, but a man could dream,” he shrugged and faced your way, his eyes softening as he scanned your face. You didn’t know why Rintaro looked so beautiful in that moment. The picture perfect image of a Prince Charming, his hazel eyes seeing things you couldn’t, his smile hesitant yet hopeful. “I hope our little girl looks like you. She’d be very pretty just like her Mom.”

Heat rushed at the nape of your neck. It was a flood of emotions all at once – flustered, flattered, frustrated.

You immediately pointed your body in a different direction. Sliding the glass doors aside, you kicked off your heels and sunk your feet into the grass. It was a much needed reprieve after walking and driving for hours with those darned heels. Soon enough, you could hear Rintaro trailing behind you – a quick, curious glance letting you know he’d picked up your heels, your shoes dangling on his crooked fingers.

“Can we have a dog?”

“We could have a dog,” he grinned, and then gestured for you to come follow him. Feet sinking into the sand, your hands found solace in his bicep. Rintaro practically puffs up with male pride the moment your nails sunk into his skin. It was silly, enough to make you roll your eyes, but you kept on walking and walking – the sounds of sand crunching beneath your feet and the delicious warmth emanating from your husband a great way to start the morning. Eventually, you’d made it to the front of the house, where the crystalline pool stood just before the sea announced its presence.

“And in the beachfront, well, we could do pretty much anything. Barbecue, invite friends over for dinner. Oh, and there’s a wine cellar in the basement. I think I had that filled up, too. Do you want to have a quick drink before we go?” Shaking your head at him, Rintaro nods, gnawing at his lip before he decides – fuck it – and finally lets his hand rest on top of yours.

The position was oddly intimate. You weren’t embracing each other, yet you’d never been so close to him before. Your sides pressed against one another, your hand curled onto his arm, with his large, veiny hands caressing yours. It’s a little too perfect, and it makes you just a little too in love. Unable to help it, and drunk in the serenity of it all, you let your head fall back to his shoulder. Eyes closed, breaths shallow – your heartbeat in sync with his.

Thump, thump, thump. The schwaa of the waves. The whoosh of the wind.

It was like heaven on earth.

Above you, Rintaro cleared his throat. “So? What do you think? Is it to your liking? If it isn’t, I could always look for a different house–”

“It’s beautiful, Rin. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you told him, opening your eyes to smile up at him, your cheek still smooshed against his broad shoulders. “It’d be a perfect home for us.”

“O-Okay,” he blushed, averting his gaze from you as he stared at the sea instead. The motion made you chuckle. It wasn’t always Rintaro could be such a flustered, affected man, but you adored the rare times when he was. Just then, an idea popped up in your head and you grinned, tapping his shoulder with your nails.

“Hey. Why don’t we have a little housewarming party to make it feel more like home?”

“We can?”

“We can do whatever we want, Rin,” you reminded him, and then scrunched your nose as you thought of the whole process. Furniture shopping, talking with interior designers, adding your personal touch, bringing in some of your most important things to this beach house that was literally miles away from the Palace. “–Although decorating it would take a lot of time and you must be busy–”

Rintaro’s eyes widened in panic. “I’m not busy. Well, I am, but I’ll make time. Let’s – Let’s decorate. I want to turn this into our home, too.”

You squeezed his bicep, warmth flooding your senses.

As you wandered through the house, your heart swelled with love and gratitude. The beach house wasn’t just a place to live in; it was a dream woven into reality. A testament to the life you would build together. Standing there, bathed in the tender embrace of the sunrise, you felt an unbreakable bond to this place, knowing that it would be the backdrop to your love story – however complicated it may be – a place where you both would grow, laugh, and find solace in each other for the years to come.

For the next few months following your arrival, you and Rintaro dedicated yourselves to transforming the beach house into a true home. It was a long, arduous process – infusing every corner with your touch, and Rintaro with his love for knick-knacks. Countless mornings were spent wandering through local markets, hand in hand, searching for pieces that spoke to you – the future you would create.

It was a great opportunity to fool the media, too, a silent declaration to the world that your marriage would not be swayed by petty rumors.

Well, they were not just rumors, but the Queen seemed ardently pleased by the amassed support.

Rintaro, suddenly the considerate partner and doting husband, would often pause to hold up a delicate vase or an intricately carved wooden sculpture, his eyes seeking your approval. You, in turn, would smile and nod, trusting his impeccable taste and loving the way he always seemed to know what would make your heart sing.

It was as if he knew what you’d like before you even said it out loud. Maybe it was because he’d spent two years of his life courting you that he now knew you like the back of his hand.

Whatever it was, the media ate it up. The article regarding his cheating scandal eventually became nothing but measly gossip. You remained in contact with Kuroo, however, his article about Iris only waiting to drop at your signal.

It should’ve been released months ago. You could’ve ruined her already, snatched your husband back right under her nose – you just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not when she’d been pointedly avoiding Rintaro, and your husband was acting like he forgot she existed. Could it be both of them couldn’t handle the criticism, after all? Did they care more about their reputations and image than their ‘passionate love affair’?

But then again, neither of them wanted to be exposed for their trysts.

It was all Atsumu’s doing.

And that actress – poor Hiroda Yuki – still remained oblivious to the sex tape you hid under your closet. A secret you would bury there forever, a secret you’d take with you to your grave. You hadn’t heard news of her getting knocked up, and her career was still soaring. For now, you had nothing to worry about. It seemed peaceful – for now.

In the meantime, you dedicated your afternoons in the arrangement and rearrangement of everything you’ve collected – snow globes from your trips overseas with your parents, Rintaro’s random collection of weapons and key chains from his own adventures. The living room, with its expansive glass walls and view of the endless ocean, became a canvas for you to experiment with. There were no rules here.

You placed a soft, oversized rug in the center, its deep blues and greens echoing the colors of the sea. Comfortable chairs and sofas were positioned to invite conversation and relaxation, while vibrant cushions and throws added splashes of color and warmth. You insisted on color, ensuring that the beach house had to be vibrant and thrumming with life. You refused to let it be like the Palace – dull yet overwhelming with all its arching marble statues and golden chandeliers.

And then the dining area, envisioned as the heart of your home, where family and friends would gather, received special attention. You chose a large, rustic wooden table, its surface polished to a warm glow. Around it, you placed mismatched chairs (which greatly bothered Kiyoomi when you sent him photos), but you told him that each had its own story and character. The space was an organized mess, eclectic yet coherent. Above the table, Rintaro hung a chandelier of delicate glass orbs that cast a soft, magical light during evening meals.

The master bedroom was a different tale itself. It was the room you and Rintaro spent the most time on. You established several rules before proceeding, drilling it into his head that:

Rule no. 1: He was not allowed to bring any women inside. (He scoffed at it, offended, but agreed anyway.)

Rule no. 2: Lavender essential oils were the only scents allowed. Vanilla scents were forbidden. (He didn’t understand why you were so vehemently against it, but again – whatever makes the wife happy, was what he said. That alone made you question… did he not know what Iris smelled like? He knew all your favorite perfumes by heart, yet could not recognize the distinctness of vanilla? You quickly dropped the subject.)

And finally, Rule no. 3: No arguments inside the bedroom.

(Rintaro was barely able to hide his shock at you suggesting it. His eyes widened for a moment, an expression he quickly schooled into that of nonchalance. “Of course,” he’d said, “Any conversation that may require a debate will always be had outside. Never here.” To which you replied, “Never here, Rintaro. This is our space. We will not be enemies here.)

There it was, the master bedroom, a sanctuary of tranquility and intimacy. Soft, sheer curtains were chosen to filter the morning light. The bed was adorned with luxurious linens and a variety of textured pillows, making it a perfect retreat after long days spent exploring the island or entertaining the guests you would have over.

Personal touches, like framed photographs of your wedding, and the candid ones he’d taken of you each time he called for you in the Yuzuru Estate, were placed on the nightstands.

All that was left was to invite his brothers over for the housewarming party.

You and Rintaro decided to keep it a secret for now. After all, it wasn’t every day that the brothers all gathered together for dinner outside the Palace. You debated inviting the Queen over, too, but after that recent fiasco and her snide remarks about your mother, you were heavily against it. Rintaro, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He just wanted to spend time with his brothers – saying they’ve never done that before. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for them to rekindle their brotherhood.

It sounded like an absurd idea at first, you admitted. You didn’t have to go so far to help your husband get along with his own brothers, but whether you liked it or not, you were married – and marriage often came with demanding responsibilities.

Of course, there was still the issue of Iris: would she be invited or not?

You gauged it for the first few weeks. Waiting, listening, and watching with a careful eye on how Rintaro would be acting. You’d also piloted the agenda, peering over it like a hawk to see if he would sneak in a thing or two. Or maybe he had a room for her. But – much to your surprise – there was none. There were exactly nine guest rooms; one for each brother and their wife, and one for the Queen or your parents, whoever wanted to visit.

Still, it made you turn your nose upwards.

You didn’t fancy the thought of Kiyoomi sharing a room with Iris. In fact, the image of them sharing the same bed was enough to make your stomach turn upside down. But knowing Kiyoomi? He’d probably make her sleep on the floor than be anywhere near her.

Finally, after some finishing touches, you both sent out the invitations.

The housewarming party was an intimate, private event. It was challenging at first – their schedules did not align with each other, and Prince Wakatoshi was not warming up to the idea. However, his son, Wakashi, badly wanted to see the sea. That was all it took before he’d agreed, and soon, even the busybody Shinsuke accepted the invitation – with the promise Airi could also come.

Pride bloomed in your chest. It seemed like an impossible feat at the beginning, gathering all the Princes into one place. But they’re all here now – Keiji was reading books to Wakashi, Tobio is playing beach volleyball with Tooru, Rintaro, and Atsumu. Osamu declined his brothers’ invitation as soon as he caught sight of your kitchen, pushing past his blond-haired twin and declaring that your kitchen was now his. You all laughed about it, and Osamu hasn’t left since.

Wakatoshi was there in your living room, cuddled up on the couch with his wife, Camilla. They both snoozed in peace, lulled by the Princes’ distant shouts and yells from their game. Behind them, Shinsuke crouched over the paperwork he’d brought with him, Airi happily gazing at her Prince as she wiped glasses and silverware.

Kiyoomi and Iris, for some reason, did not participate in any of the activities. The Second Prince has worn a stormy expression the moment he parked his car, his wife in tow. Iris didn’t look great either – her face pale and lips chapped.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now, you would enjoy yourself.

Stepping out of the living room, you walked past the pool and to the beach. The Princes were still playing on a 2v2, Tobio and Tooru on one team, Rintaro and Atsumu on the other. As you got there, your sundress puffing up from the wind, you noticed Maiko was already on one of the lawn chairs – smiling fondly at her husband who scored once more.

You followed her gaze. Now that was a sight, indeed. All the Princes were shirtless – their muscles rippling with each jump or aggressive spike of the ball. They’d already been tanned after playing under the sun for hours, their healthy golden glow illuminated by the setting sun. Rintaro himself had you struggling to look away. Wearing sun shades, a black compression arm sleeve, and his shorts hanging low on his hips – it suddenly felt hot despite the breeze.

Shaking your head to yourself, you tore your gaze away from him and sat next to the Princess. “Maiko,” you greeted, handing her a watermelon juice.

“Your Highness!” she beamed, gladly accepting the drink and playing with the umbrella before she continued, “Thank you for having us over.”

“It was my pleasure,” Smiling, you watched her closely, not missing the way her cheeks flamed each time Tooru scored and he looked her way. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable from another’s eye, but it was clear in that moment it meant the world to Maiko. Beside you, the Princess hid her giddy smile behind her drink, her bare toes curling into the sand beneath you. “So. You and Tooru seem to have gotten along more.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” she scrunched her nose, “He was really worried for you, you know. He wouldn’t stop telling me how he was going to beat the Crown Prince up. And when that article went out…”

“We’ve moved past that.”

“You have?” she perked up, “I mean, that’s good. Have you forgiven him?”

You took another sip of your drink, and then snorted. “Of course not. But I think we’re at this point in our marriage where we’re pretending to be happily married, and it’s hard for me to not play my part,” when Maiko titled her head to the side, confused, you gestured to the grand abode behind you. “He’s bought me this house, helped me decorate it. We spent many nights talking about how we’d like it to be, and now we’re all here. His brothers, their wives – everyone is laughing and having fun. How could I ruin it by dwelling on the past?”

Maiko didn’t look entirely convinced. You couldn’t blame her – you weren’t very convinced yourself.

Things were going a little too smoothly for your liking. Until now, you still had your doubts that everything was suddenly okay, that Rintaro and Iris have suddenly decided to end their relationship. But you’d asked around, bribed the maids in Belleview Manor, and they all said the same thing.

Rintaro and Iris have not spoken to each other ever since your return.

It felt as if Rintaro had been sincere when he said he only slept with her because he felt lonely with you. A pathetic excuse, of course, something only an imbecile would fall for. But you’d long accepted that Rintaro was an oddity and complexity of itself.

The only way to truly understand him was to let him show all versions of himself, both the good and the bad, before you could see which one of him you could love the most.

And this Rintaro?

The loyal, caring husband who’d given you this home? The one who wouldn’t stop stealing kisses even when no one was looking? The one who proved to you that the master bedroom upstairs indeed had very soft, luxurious beds by fucking you in it all the way until the morning?

You liked that Rintaro very much.

“I’m always here for you,” Maiko said after a moment, her smile genuine as she gazed upon the secluded area. “The house is beautiful, by the way. I can see why you looked so happy ever since the Crown Prince showed this place to you.”

“It’s our home. It was the best thing he could’ve given me.”

Saying it loud felt like an accomplishment. Your mother had always told you that you would be great at managing your own house someday. It felt surreal to see with your own eyes that she’d been right.

“To be honest, I never expected I would have moments like this,” quipped Maiko, her smile wavering as she plucked out the cocktail umbrella. “Before I married Tooru, it was lonely in the Rai Estate. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father married the next woman who presented herself to him. Sometimes I think he did that because he wanted me to grow up with a mother, but my stepmother was never fond of me. It was a lonely childhood, I must admit,” she confessed with a sarcastic chuckle, lifting her head to stare at her husband. “But then Prince Tooru came along. The Queen started bringing him along whenever she visited my father, and the Prince and I would always have playdates. I remember I would cry each time they had to return to the Palace.”

You tipped your head to the side, curious. “The Queen brought Tooru to the Rai Estate?”

Maiko nodded. “Yes. You didn’t know? Her Majesty is my godmother,” she informed, absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. “She was close friends with my father, and they remained in contact even when she married the King. I’d say she was the closest I ever got to having a mother figure, but Her Majesty is too busy to waste her time looking after a little girl.”

“I see,” you murmured, and reached over to clasp her bare shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry about your mother, Maiko. I hadn’t known she’d already passed.”

“It’s alright, not a lot of people mourned her death anyway. And people easily forgot she existed because my father remarried very soon,” she shrugged, a forlorn look crossing her sharp features. “My father said I don’t look like her. Sometimes, I think that fact made it easier for him to move on, because he never saw her in me.”

“Did your father love her?”

“Probably not. You know how marriages between nobles are; I wouldn’t be surprised if it was arranged. He never talked about her either, so I wouldn’t know.”

You hummed to yourself, “Does the Queen still visit Lord Rai?”

“Not lately, no. She got occupied handling the Kingdom’s affairs when His Majesty passed away, but they still send each other letters during birthdays. I’m not sure the Queen has written back to my father in a while, though,” as quickly as she said it, Maiko’s back straightened, her free hands waving frantically in the air. “Oh, I hope this doesn’t change the way you see me, Princess. I promise the Queen does not hold any special favors to me.”

“Not at all, Maiko. You’re still the same Princess in my eyes.”

“TAKE THAT!”

Both of your heads snapped in the Princes’ direction. Tobio, pumping his arms in the air as Atsumu tugged at his blond locks from the other side of the net. Tooru was running around – or more like bouncing – while your husband was down on one knee, panting heavily with sweat dripping down his chest.

Before you could process what was going on, Tooru bolted for Maiko’s direction, whooping and hollering as he picked her up and twirled her. Maiko’s squeal was lodged in her chest upon Tooru’s crushing hug. He kept spinning her, enough to have Maiko wobbly on her feet when he finally put her down, holding her at an arm’s length away as he exclaimed, “Did you see that? Rintaro couldn’t receive my serve!”

“It was just a lucky serve!” defended your husband.

“Yeah, right.”

Rintaro turned to you, his ears turning red as he stood up and dusted the sand of his abs. “It was a lucky serve.”

You put your hand up to your mouth, concealing your laughter. “I’m sure it was.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the horizon, the air buzzed with excitement and the scent of blooming flowers from the garden. The sound of waves crashing softly in the background added a serene rhythm to the lively conversations that flowed as effortlessly as the wine. The brothers, their bond evident in their playful banter and shared stories, mingled around the spacious terrace, their laughter mingling with the music that floated through the air.

You eventually left Maiko, seeing as the Princes did not have any plans on stopping their game anytime soon. You didn’t want to rush them into dinner either, not when Rintaro looked like he was having the time of his life.

Dusting sand off your dress, you took yours and Maiko’s empty glasses back inside. Airi and Osamu were still in the kitchen; the former smiling at you when you handed her the glasses, while Osamu remained elbow-deep in some dough. You left them soon to their devices, heading out of the kitchen when you nearly bumped into a firm chest.

“Hey.”

“Kiyoomi,” you blinked up at him, joy radiating from every pore now that he was here. Kiyoomi looked handsome in just his cream, short-sleeved linen shirt, his curls tousled and falling beautifully to frame his face. Until now, you were still beguiled by his striking beauty. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I heard you’d been occupied with some things in Itachiyama.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, and I would never decline an invitation from you,” he said softly, dipping his head so you could hear him better. His close proximity set your heart racing, and before you noticed it, you had your dress balled into your fists. “You did a great job with the place. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, voice light and airy as you gestured outside. “Are you not going to join your brothers in their game?”

Kiyoomi shook his head, a mischievous smirk gracing his handsome features. “If I did, then Rintaro’s team would lose.”

“Oh, are you a better player than him?”

“I’m better than him in all aspects,” he declared, offhandedly gesturing to their brother on the couch.  “Though I could never hit as hard as Wakatoshi. You should’ve seen him in his prime – he was a monster as long as he had the ball in his hands.”

“I didn’t know you played volleyball, too.”

“We used to play a lot when we were younger. Before duties called.”

You nodded, silently escorting him out of the kitchen. You could already feel Airi’s gaze burning holes at the back of your head. “How is Iris, by the way? I don’t think I’ve seen her around.”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s been holed up in bed ever since,” informed Kiyoomi, scratching his cheek in thought. “Did she have a fight with Rin?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think… it’s because Rintaro is ignoring her, and she might be upset about that,” wrinkling your nose, you raised both hands in the air as a form of surrender. “But let’s not talk about unpleasant things. How was your trip to Itachiyama? And Kanami! How is she? I didn’t get to properly say goodbye to her last time.”

Kiyoomi’s lip twitched with amusement. “She’s fine, just a little mad that I took you home without informing her beforehand. She really wanted to spend more time with you.”

I didn’t want to leave either, you almost told him, biting back your tongue at the last moment.

Finding yourself alone with the older Prince, the air thickened with unspoken tension. A palpable static seemed to crackle between you two. Every glance exchanged was laden with unvoiced words, and every accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. He stood close to you, his presence comforting and warm, yet an invisible barrier held you apart – neither brave enough to bridge the gap.

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of his presence beside you, the magnetic pull urging you closer. The silence was almost deafening – filled with the potential of what could be said, yet the fear of breaking it kept you mute.

Finally, Kiyoomi, with a nervous swallow and a shy, almost boyish smile, broke the silence.

“How was the meeting with Kuroo?” he began, his voice soft but trembling with the same tension you felt.

You told him everything without a detail to spare. Your words were hushed, voice barely above a whisper in case anyone accidentally walked in on you. Kiyoomi nodded as he took everything in, the tension on his shoulders increasing. “I see. Has he contacted you ever since?”

“The last message I got from him was from a few days ago. He says he’s got everything he needs – he’s just waiting for the green light.”

“So we’re just waiting for him to drop the bomb.”

“Practically, yes,” you agreed, when an idea formed in your head. Clapping your hands together, you tugged at Kiyoomi’s sleeve. “Actually, could you come with me? I wanted to show you something.”

Kiyoomi wasn’t able to say his response before you’re dragging him upstairs. You already knew the house like the back of your hand, confident you could navigate through it even with your eyes closed. Once you’d reached your destination, you swung the doors open – arms outstretched to show it off. “This is my reading corner, a library of sorts. And here–” you led him to a wall you’d intentionally kept empty, “–is your corner.”

“My corner?”

“Yes, you know, like how everyone has their own space in your library back at the farmhouse.”

“That’s a family house. This is your house with your husband.”

“Rintaro bought it because he wanted to have a safe space with his family, and you’re his brother. That makes you my family too, doesn’t it?”

Your smile was warm, sincere and elated upon presenting him his ‘corner.’ Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you for not noticing the fleeting hurt in his eyes, his disappointment quickly masked with a practiced, cordial nod.

“Family. Right,” he echoed, “I’ll make sure to add my own things someday here. Thank you.”

“FUCK YEAH!” roared Atsumu from below. All too quickly, the moment is broken. You and Kiyoomi stepped away from each other, both releasing a breath you didn’t noticed you held.

“I should go–”

“Of course,” Kiyoomi agreed, his nods a tad too hurried. He’s looking at everywhere but you now. “I’ll follow in a bit.”

You were hesitant to leave. It’d felt like forever since you’d last spoken to Kiyoomi. Ever since that night your call did not push through when Rintaro chased after you, Kiyoomi had been restless. He’d text you every morning and night, without fail, to reassure himself you did not come to harm. He was sweet – undeniably so – and it felt like a waste. Everything did. You couldn’t spend time with him, or speak to him freely like you did in Itachiyama anymore. Here, in Inarizaki, the cameras devoured everything you and Rintaro did.

It came without question you’d unknowingly distanced yourself from the Second Prince.

With a heart heavy of doubt, you exited the room. The last you saw of Kiyoomi was him slouched over his corner, his eyes closed and his head resting on his arm.

You skipped down the stairs, careful of the ankle-length of your sundress. The living room was already a mess when you got there – Atsumu was shaking Wakatoshi awake by the shoulders, screaming that he’d won against ‘stupid Tooru.’ Tooru, on the other hand, was being comforted by his wife, a pout permanent on his face.

“Hey,” an arm wrapped itself around your waist. Tensing, you quickly smiled when you saw it was just Rintaro – now dressed in a plain white button-up, the top three buttons left open to cool himself.

“Hey back.”

“Why didn’t you watch me play?”

You almost laughed at him. It was a comical sight – your tall husband slouching and pouting like a kicked puppy. Shaking your head at him, you let him pull you into an embrace, his arms engulfing you completely. You’re wholly warm like this, his head on top of yours, your cheek on his warm chest that’s still slightly damp with sweat.

“We have guests over, Rin. I have to make sure everyone’s settled.”

“But I played good,” he whines above you, his head dipping to playfully nibble at your ear. Rintaro crushes you in the embrace, your bodies pressed close enough that the growing tent in his trousers poked you through your sundress. Breath hitching, your tilted your neck to give him more access – warily looking out for onlookers. Thankfully, his brothers were all occupied with searching for snacks.

“I’m not inviting my brothers over next time. They take up too much of your attention.”

“Don’t be weird,” you teased, “I’m all yours tonight.”

Tipping your chin to look him in the eye, Rintaro presses a tender kiss at the insides of your wrist. “All mine for a lifetime, hopefully.”

“We’re married. I don’t think we have much of a choice in that aspect.”

When Rintaro smiled, his whole face lit up, his teeth flashing wickedly. Squeezing your waist, his eyes took in the warm, golden lights of your house. The bustling noise his brothers made, and the aroma of dinner being prepared. “We really outdid ourselves, huh. This place turned out better than I expected.”

You patted his firm stomach. “Should we all celebrate with some dinner?”

Nodding, Rintaro pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing in the kitchen. Atsumu followed not long after, complaining that ‘Samu was taking ‘too darned long’ preparing his food. You can’t help the smile making its way into your face. Rintaro was right; you really outdid yourselves. The night was a success – everyone was happy, and it finally felt like everything was normal.

“Nee-chan,” Tobio appeared before you, a towel wrapped around his neck. His grin is bright, cheeks flushed from the game and still breathing heavily. “Thank you for the party. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun before.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Tobio,” you beamed at him, watching from behind him as Wakatoshi shook his head at all the noise his brothers made – not missing the way his lips curled just the slightest when his son joined in on the joyous atmosphere.

“You should teach me how to play volleyball someday.”

“Of course!” Tobio said, a little eagerly. Just then, his eyes dimmed, his smile wavering as he approached you, a hand cupped at the sides of his mouth. “But sis… are you sure you’re okay with Rintaro? He seems oddly clingy to you today. If he bothers you, let me know, okay? I’ll beat him up. I’ll ask Shinsuke-nii to help me too–”

“Calm down. No one’s getting beaten up today. Let’s just enjoy dinner, alright?”

Tobio sulked, his shoulders closing in together with a frown. However, all that disappeared when Osamu and Airi appeared with dinner. Within minutes, all of you were situated in the long table. Everyone dug in, a mumbled ‘thanks’ and a quick prayer led by Wakatoshi.

Beside you, Rintaro squeezed your thigh before standing up. The scraping of his chair alerted everyone – multiple pairs of heads turning your way as he raised a glass.

“I wanted to make a toast – to thank everyone for coming despite their busy schedules. This home – our home – means the world to me, and there’s no one else but family who I’d rather share this moment with. I want to thank my wife, too, for bringing light into my life,” he gestured your way, causing a bout of sniggers coming from Atsumu. You rolled your eyes and decided to ignore him. “Also, I am very happy to announce that the scandal has been officially cleared. The writer of that article has left the country, and the media is no longer attacking me. I am officially an honorable man again.”

“To honor?” Osamu raised his wine with a snort, and everyone glared at him. “Oh, my bad, I thought that’s what we were toasting for.”

“Osamu,” warned Shinsuke.

“To good memories,” you announced, followed by a chorus of echoes, “And to family.” Pointing your drink in Kiyoomi’s way, the Prince raised his drink, his small smile hidden behind the glass.

“To family.”

As twilight deepened into night, the garden lights twinkled like stars, and the gathering moved inside to the cozy warmth of the living room. Stories and laughter continued late into the evening, the house filled with the comforting sounds of family and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

It was a night of celebration, not just of a new home, but of the bonds that made it a true haven—a place where love, laughter, and the warmth of family would forever reside.

It was a moment you would cherish while it lasted.

Everyone headed straight for the wine cellar after dinner.

It caused a ruckus – half of the Princes were passed out drunk in their rooms, while the rest stayed up playing Mario Kart. It had been Tobio’s idea, and with Rintaro eagerly joining in, it soon turned into the competitive bout it was now. Whoever lost would skinny dip in the pool without turning the heater on.

You shook your head at their antics.

You cleaned up after everyone, Maiko and Camilla apologizing that they wanted to tend to their drunk husbands and couldn’t help. You quickly waved them away, unbothered. If anything, you appreciated how the noise slowly dissipated – leaving you alone with Kiyoomi who’d volunteered to help clean up. The silence is comfortable as you maneuvered around the dining room.

“Your Highness!” exclaimed Airi, wiping her hands on her apron as she rushed to you both. “Please, leave that behind, I’ll take care of it!”

As gently as you could, you snatched back the wet rug from her hands. “Airi, darling, you can go ahead and rest. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh but Princess, I could never! I’ll clean everything up–”

Kiyoomi smiled at her. “It’s okay, Airi. I’m sure Shinsuke’s been dying to talk to you, too,” Airi flushed red, causing the Prince to rumble in laughter beside you. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

“T-Thank you.”

Airi dashed upstairs, sending you both one last grateful glance before disappearing.

Guilt washed over you at the sight of her. Airi and Kita seemed to be happy together, but you knew the harsh reality that the chances of them working out were low. Not only was she a maid, but she had completely nothing to her name – no family, no college degree, and had a mouth that required dire control. At least here in the privacy of your home, they would receive no criticism, but as soon as you all returned home to the Palace… you sighed.

You couldn’t tell whether you were comforted at the thought you were not the only one suffering when it came to love.

You’re elbow deep in the sink washing the dishes, Kiyoomi at your side silently wiping the plates, when you remembered an empty seat at the table. “Iris didn’t come down for dinner. Should I bring her some leftovers?”

Kiyoomi grumbled, uninterested. “I’m sure she’ll come around once she’s hungry, and that should be soon. She’s had a mad appetite lately.”

Speaking of the devil, a light tap came from the countertops. You whipped your head at the soft, lilting voice. Iris stood a few feet away from you, a basket covered with red cloth held in front of her stomach. She looked sheepish; her brown hair falling down her in graceful waves, but her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying the entire time.

You snuck a glance at Kiyoomi, questioning, but he merely shrugged, turning his back to her and resuming with his task.

“Your Highness. May I speak with you?” her eyes darted to her husband’s figure, shifting from foot to foot. “Alone?”

“Of course. Excuse me for a moment,” bowing to Kiyoomi, you quickly washed your hands and followed Iris. She led you past the living room and out to the pools. The Princes’ shouts and banters became nothing but background noise. There, Iris situated herself in the picnic table under the willow tree, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

She nudged the basket your way, lifting the red cloth to reveal… pastries? “I baked these cookies for you this morning before we left the Palace. Please, have some. Consider it my peace offering.”

You fell silent. Mouth opening and closing as you searched for the right words, you settled for a forced smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Iris gnawed on her lip, and dragged her chair closer to you. Much to your surprise, her hands landed on your knee, her big, green eyes pleading. “Listen, Princess, I know we got off on the wrong footing, and I really want to put that behind us and start new.”

“Uh,” you blinked back, “O-Okay?”

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I didn’t mean for Rintaro’s lies to drag on and go this far, and if you must know, I never supported him on his plan–”

“Why?” you didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh. But it did, and you tilted your head to the side, oddly calm as you asked, “Why don’t you support him? Don’t you want to be his?”

Iris’ bravado faltered for a minute.

“I-I did at one point. It gets tiring having to hide your relationship, you know? But his plans seemed too absurd to me, and it sounded impossible that he could achieve it.”

“Do you think he’s not fit to be King?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied,” you reiterated, scanning her face for answers – for the truth – when realization dawned on you. Leaning back, you flicked her hands away from your lap, lips curling in distaste. “You look down on him, Iris. You don’t think he’s a capable Prince at all.”

Iris clenched her jaw in an attempt to bite back a retort. “He has his many great qualities, but sometimes the Crown Prince loses touch of what is real and what is not,” she said, her placid tone betraying the fire burning in her eyes. “This is why I’m hoping we can be friends and start anew, Princess. I’m letting you know I’m breaking up with Rin. In fact, we have not been talking as of lately–”

“You fucked him in my bed lately. Do you really expect I would believe you?”

Her gaze was ice cold as it cut to you. “That was months ago, and he was the one who brought me there.”

“Let’s say he did. But who’s to say you did not seduce him beforehand?”

“He said his room felt lonely without you there, and he brought me for company. Don’t you realize, Princess? Your husband longs for you more than you know.”

Unable to help it, you chortled out a laugh. “What, are you saying he loves me?”

“He might,” she gritted her teeth, “But he needs to get over me first. That’s why I’m letting him go – you’re a kind person and you don’t deserve to be treated as second best. I’m putting my heart aside so you can finally enjoy your marriage.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re doing this for me? How very benevolent of you, Princess.”

“It’s really not that hard to believe I want you to be happy.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe it was this easy. “Why the sudden change of heart? Is it because you couldn’t handle being called a slut by everyone?”

“I am not a slut, nor am I a homewrecker. He loved me first, don’t you forget that,” she spat out, her words laced with poison. It had you narrowing your eyes at her, and the Princess cowered for a moment, dropping her gaze down her lap as she stumbled over what to say next. “But the truth is… I never loved him. Or if I did, it wasn’t to the point where I would throw away my marriage to him. I want stability, Your Highness, and my union with Kiyoomi provided me that. Stability, security, and power – I have it all. There’s nothing more I could possibly want.”

“Then why were you sleeping with my husband?”

Iris shut her eyes, her hands balled into fists at her lap. “Because my husband wasn’t around. He avoided me like the plague during the early stages of our marriage, and the Palace is too big a place for someone like me. I’m human, too. I got lonely. You cannot blame me for seeking out the warmth of another. He wasn’t yours during those times, so you can’t put this over our heads again and again.”

“You were using him,” you stated, shooting up from your seat. Kiyoomi had told you about it. Hell, even Maiko had an inkling their relationship was nothing but exploitative on Iris’ part, but hearing it coming from her – hearing how she used your husband like he was a mere toy or puppet for her to play with as she pleases… your blood boiled.

“You knew Rintaro was in love with you, and you took advantage of that. How could you?”

“Because he was there when no one else was.”

You stood rigidly, trying to quell the storm brewing within you. Fixing your gaze on the horizon, you avoided Iris’s eyes, afraid that even a fleeting glance would betray the torrent of emotions you fought to contain. Each breath was a deliberate effort to maintain your composure, your mind a battlefield of unspoken accusations and restrained fury.

Despite the turmoil, you held yourself with regal poise.

“I think I’m going to have a drink,” you decided, sending one last forced smile her way. “Care for some?”

Color drained from the Princess’ face. “No, I-I’m laying off the drinks for a while. I’ve never been a drinker anyway.”

You watched Iris from the corner of your eye, noting how she subtly used her arms to hug her stomach, her movements slow and deliberate. Since arriving at the beach house, Iris had looked unusually pale and sickly, her vitality drained. She kept her distance from Rintaro, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.

A wild thought flickered through your mind – could Iris be pregnant?

You quickly dismissed the idea, shaking your head, but the possibility lingered – filling you with a growing sense of dread. The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone, the implications threating to unravel the fragile ‘peace’ between you all.

“Hmm.” You dug your nails to your palm, licking your lips as you tried to still your beating heart. “I think I’ll head to bed soon. Good night, Iris.”

“Princess,” Iris called out from where she sat, her beautiful face crestfallen and desperate. “Have you forgiven me? Can we be friends?”

“I’ll think about it.”

You headed back inside the house, your breathing growing shallower with each step you took. Faintly, you heard Rintaro’s concerned voice calling after you. You paid him no mind, taking two steps at a time as you pushed open the door to their shared bedroom.

Kiyoomi was already inside, in the middle of taking off his wristwatch when you came bustling in. Your name fell on his lips. You ignored him, too, heading for the bed with crumpled sheets from where Iris must’ve slept. You threw the pillows on the ground, the blankets balled and discarded to the side, as you looked for something – searched for answers. Her belongings all came crashing to the ground as you picked it apart one by one, hauling her suitcase from the drawer before kicking it to the floor.

“Princess,” Kiyoomi sounded worried, his hands coming up to reach for you when you slapped it away. Concern flashed over his face, more so when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“She’s hiding something. I know it.”

It didn’t take much effort to open her suitcase. Clothes, shoes, her makeup bag – you emptied it of its contents and felt around for any hidden zippers. None. It was empty, save for some unused tampons scattering right beneath your feet.

Your vision began to grow blurry.

Pushing past Kiyoomi, you dashed for the bathroom and knelt on the ground, opening the trash bin and digging through the heap of dry paper towels. You stared at it, confused. Why throw away perfectly good and unused napkins? Determined, you flipped the bin upside down. A white, thin object fell on the ground with a soft clink.

You reached for it with shaky hands.

It was a pregnancy test – one that read positive.

Behind you, you heard Kiyoomi’s sharp inhale. “It’s not mine,” his words faded into the background, “I never touched her.”

When you found the strength to speak, your voice came out weak and cracked.

“…I know you’re not the father.”

from the left: beach house → master bedroom → reading room

[bookshelf-dust]

you have hearts for eyes

sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 5,451

warnings: minimal swearing, kind of modern!au, reader has insecurities about being inexperienced, very slight suggestive material, fluff/comfort

a/n: hello! i’ve been working on this fic for what feels like forever, and i am so happy to be done with it and to share it with you. i know my audience for sirius is a bit smaller, but i’m hoping some of you will appreciate and enjoy it and maybe find something in it. it means a lot to me and writing it definitely helped me work through some of my own struggles. please let me know what you think!! i love you so much. happy reading <333

————

Sirius’ apartment is really quite sweet. The walls are dark and draped with tapestries, ones you would never know where to find. Someplace you’re unfamiliar with, surely.

Of course you know it wouldn’t be nearly this nice without all of Remus’ help. Sirius thinks choosing to live across the hall from one another was the best decision they ever made. He had wanted to share a place with both Remus and James, but that was before Lily snatched him away.  

The couch is a deep wine color, the cushions bearing imprints from all the hands and backs and bottoms that have embraced them. He’s cracked the living room windows open, allowing the spring air to seep in.

He’s been pacing back and forth from the window where he’d be able to see your car pull up, and looking out the peephole on his front door. He pulls it open just as you’ve raised your hand to knock (despite having a key), making you jump. A boyish grin spreads across his face as he drags his eyes down your figure. 

“Well, Christ, don’t you look gorgeous.”

You feel the tips of your ears burn. One of your hands flies to rest on your lower belly. You put on a dress today; a lovely, long sundress you purchased in a short-lived moment of bravery, one you’ve never worn around him. Actually, you’ve never worn a dress around Sirius, period. Skirts, sure. But he has never seen you in something like this.

“Oh, quit that,” you mutter, dipping under his arm to enter his home. 

He turns around to watch you walk in as he pushes the door shut. “I will not.” He takes your bag from your shoulder, setting it on a stool just under the kitchen island. “Do a spin for me, love. That color looks so perfect on you.”

You oblige, letting yourself have this one moment where you lean into his flirting. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the dress hugging it so gently where you’ve tied the strings around your back. The way the fabric drapes down your spine and is light enough that he can see each move you make, each effortless shift of your limbs. He has to be careful not to let his jaw fall open.

You complete your turn, stomach flipping at the look on his face. You scramble for something to say, to hide the way he’s flustered you.

“Okay, okay. No need to pretend to ogle anymore. All I did was put on regular people clothes.”

Sirius’ brows knit together. Pretend? Do you think he’s doing this just to flatter you? Just because he’s a naturally flirty man? He wants to toss you over his shoulder and show you how perfect you are. He crosses his arms.

“No pretending here, love. You do look stunning in that little number and I feel blessed that you have graced me with your presence while wearing it.” He shoots a wink in your direction. 

You run a hand over your collarbone and twist to plant yourself on his couch. He follows you, tucking himself into your side, his thigh pressed to yours. You can feel his gaze on you. 

“You’re terrible at taking compliments, you know that?” He gingerly takes your hand away from where it’s scratching at your neck and keeps it in his, subconsciously tracing the lines embedded in your palm. 

Your eyes fall on his fingers, watching the way his rings glint in the fading sunlight. “I did know that, yes.”

“Give me a compliment then,” he says, attempting to display how one can accept a compliment. Part of him knows he’ll go red once you give him that attention. 

You look at him, your mind swirling with every sweet thing you’ve ever wanted to say to him but kept to yourself because all this flirting doesn’t leave you as easily as it does him. 

“Your hair looks very pretty,” you let out, softly. A smile wide enough to expose his dimples spreads across his face. 

“Does it?” He gives his head a shake, the dog-like movement making you laugh. “I haven’t brushed it today.”

You tuck a strand behind his ear. “Would you like me to do it for you? I could braid it for you after so it won’t get tangled tonight.” 

That gesture comes from you so naturally that it makes Sirius swoon. You want to do that simply for his convenience and because it might make things a bit better on him. And he’ll be damned if the thought of your fingers touching his scalp and your nails on his neck doesn’t sound like the best thing since…well he hasn’t got a reference for that. But you’re often so shy when it comes to physical affection, and this just might make his entire life.  

This pool of thoughts must be showing on his face, because you suddenly look very flustered. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had hearts in his eyes to replace his pupils.

“I’d love it if you did. You really don’t mind?” he asks, already shifting to sit on the floor in front of you, trying not to make you feel too nervous because he knows you’re branching out just based on your actions since you arrived. 

“Nope. I love to braid hair,” you say, feeling a chill run down your spine seeing him settled between your legs like this, feeling the warmth of him through your dress and being able to really look at him—even if it’s just the backside of him—without feeling so shy.

Sirius grins to himself. He’s realized that you do keep a lot of things to yourself, and though he likes to think he’s cracked away at a bit of your shell in the time he’s known you, there is still so much he doesn’t know. 

“Did you know that Remus can braid?” he asks you, closing his eyes at the feel of your pinky fingernail parting his hair down the middle. 

You giggle. He could get drunk off that sound, and he knows so. It leaves him dazed. “Can he?”

“Apparently so. His mum taught him and used to have him do her hair because he was better at it than she was.”

“Well, that’s sweet. I should have him do mine. Test his skills. How’d you find out he could do it?”

Sirius lets out a breath of a laugh, “He did mine for a Quidditch match once. Mcgonagall used to fuss that I’d rip all my hair out if I didn’t contain it.”

You’re braiding his hair very slowly, much slower than you’d do yours or anyone else’s. His hair is so soft, and much thicker than you had realized. It’s got a wave to it, one you think you would be a bit more defined if he put some product in it. You’re enjoying the feel of it in your hands, the heat of his scalp against your skin. 

You’re losing yourself in it so much that you almost miss his words.

“I bet you guys had a lot of fun playing together,” you say, knowing that kind of bond must be one of the best things in the world. You tuck the strands of hair at the base of his neck in so they don’t droop when you’re finished.

Sirius wraps a hand around your ankle, and your eyes widen. 

“I wish we’d been friends then,” he tells you. Your nervous system is sent into overdrive, trying to adapt to such a casually intimate touch and the fact that he’s dwelling on the past. 

You tie off the end of one braid and start on the other. You exhale through your nose. “I don’t think we could’ve been.”

Sirius’ eyes open at this. He fights the urge to spin around and face you, but knows you’re concentrating, and he has the feeling that not staring at you directly is why you’re suddenly being so open with him. 

“Why?” he asks. Why couldn’t you have been? He’s always been friendly. Sure, he was much more rowdy in school, but he never would’ve tried to intimidate you. 

“We ran in different circles, you know? I certainly knew who you and the boys were, but everyone did.” Sirius’ brows furrow as he listens more intently than he knew he was capable of. “Though no one really knew who I was, except for my professors, of course. I was even more shy and reserved then, if you can believe that. I never really fit in, and I never found my people.”

“I sort of just…observed everyone. I did my best in class and tried to be social, but nothing ever stuck. I think there’s only one person I keep in touch with from Herbology. I learned at some point that I was going to be alone, and I might as well make the best of it.”

“So I guess what I’m saying is that we couldn’t have been because I’m not sure you ever would’ve seen me.”

The silence that follows your last few words is deafening, and all you hear is the sound of your blood rushing in your ears and your nails scratching against his hair as you finish the other braid. 

When he feels the tie rest against his neck, he forces the words up from where they’ve been sitting in his throat. “Love, I…”

He turns around so quickly you think he might’ve given himself whiplash. He’s giving you puppy dog eyes, and you hate that he’s feeling sappy over you and your pitiful school experience—or lack thereof. 

“Weren’t you lonely?” he questions, resting his hands on your knees. 

You start to fidget with one of your rings. “Of course I was. I know for lots being at Hogwarts are some of the best years of your life. But mine were very hard. I was extremely lonely, but I just learned how to be my own friend and do things that made me happy.”

“Plus I made great relationships with the professors, which helped me in getting a real job. And if that hadn’t happened…I’d never have really met you. Don’t feel bad for me, okay? It’s no big deal.”

Your words are followed by a poignant pause.

So much starts to click for Sirius, and all it does is break his heart. You give him a shy smile, and fuck, you’re absolutely right. He can’t remember what you looked like then, doesn’t remember seeing you in any of his courses. And he knows you’re a badass, but thinking about how he always had a circle, people he’d trust with his life and go to when he needed them, compared to how you were completely alone…that hurts. You deserve to be loved, praised, shown off to the world. You’re only a bit more outgoing now, and he knows much of that is owed to him and James. Remus is your introverted confidant. 

Sirius stands up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. 

“How could I not feel bad for you? Love, you’ve grown so accustomed to being alone that you don’t think it’s a big deal—not having a circle. You’ve accepted it, and I hate that you have felt so alone for so long.”

“Sirius, really, it’s—”

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out the words, causing you to blink a bit. 

“You just did.”

“Please?” 

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Oh. That’s not where you were expecting this conversation to go. And this is one of the most embarrassing things to talk about. Especially with him, because you know he’s experienced. You’ve heard the stories.

Sirius takes your silence as encouragement to continue, scrambling to explain why he’d ask this. 

“Obviously you’ve been around us, you know James and Lily and—whatever, you know. And we sometimes talk about relationships or escapades and you always retreat when that happens. Is that…is that why?”

You swallow, ignoring the slight pressure behind your eyes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. Especially at your age, and knowing you’re behind everyone you know. It is hard to hear them talk about relationships or hookups. Most definitely when it’s Sirius. 

“No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.” 

Sirius blinks. He can’t understand how any guy could look at you and not want you all to themselves. That’s what he wants. 

“I’ve never even held hands romantically, Sirius. Isn’t that pathetic?” You feel the need to make sure he knows you realize how pitiful it truly is. 

Alarm bells ring in his head. 

“Darling, no. It’s not pathetic.” He searches your face, noticing the way you’re retreating from him. “Look at me, please?” He tracks your smile lines, each freckle or mark on your skin until you meet his eyes. His own brighten at your willingness to listen. “There she is.” 

Something about those words shoot straight to your stomach, butterflies smacking against your insides, begging to be let out. 

“Why do you think that’s pathetic, love?” He’s asking you seriously. That bitter voice, the one you’ve shoved deep inside the back of your mind, claws its way forward. It must be easy to think it’s not pathetic when you’re so experienced. Because you haven’t met the ache that comes from lacking what others have. You shake your head. 

“Because it is, Sirius.” He opens his mouth, but figures this isn’t the time to bicker. His jaw falls shut just as quickly. “I am twenty-two years old, and I have never had any romantic interactions, despite the fact that I have been desperate for one for years.” He knows you’re really letting your emotions fly when you begin to talk with your hands.

“It is so gut-wrenching sometimes to see people be so happy in their relationships. It’s hard for me to listen to our discussions when they delve into each of your experiences, because it tugs on my insecurities, and I try my best to hide it, but it does hurt.”

“Truthfully, I’m at a point where not only am I ashamed of all of this, but I’m afraid that a kiss, or a hug, or anything—that I just won’t feel anything. That maybe I will never understand what affection or love feels like and it’ll always be something I imagine. And my imagination only goes so far. There’s such a disconnect, and I can’t feel those things.” 

You rub at your temples. “So that’s why. I’m behind everyone else my age, and I wish I wasn’t.”

That little bit of anger you’ve worked so hard to suppress bubbles up in your chest. You worry he’ll say something that pushes it out, that he’ll give you that same spiel everyone else does—

“I could try and help you with your romantic interactions.” 

Your breath catches. Sirius’ gray eyes bore into yours. 

“But I’ll have you know,” he continues, “that I understand how you think you’re behind, especially with the stupid shit we talk about, and I don’t think it matters. You’re on a different path than I’ve been, but it’s not as though you’ll never do those things. Frankly, I can’t see why no one’s jumped your bones to date.”

Your nervous system feels so confused. At once you’re fighting that bout of frustration, and feeling your heart pick up at the idea of this actually being a possibility. 

“Did I braid your hair too tight?” you mutter. 

Sirius laughs, tossing his head back to reveal a glorious neck. “No, love.” He places a hand on your knee. “Now, be genuine when you answer this for me, alright?” He waits for your nod and then leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your collar bones. 

“Is it really that difficult to see how enamored I am with you?”

Huh?

Sirius laughs again. Shit, did you say that out loud? 

“You did say that out loud.”

You slap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you rush out, “that was supposed to stay in my head.” But all of the small things he’s done, all of the romantic things—cooking you dinner, helping you zip your dresses, buying you jewelry, even just making you feel seen—come rushing to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe you couldn’t believe someone would feel romantically about you and decided to block out any of his loving gestures.

He’s staring straight into your eyes, and it’s like he’s cast a spell on you, because you feel like you could spill your guts right then and there. And maybe it’s best you do. 

“I think maybe I’ve just convinced myself you’re sweet to everyone? That you’re a loverboy at heart and so it hasn’t meant anything more for you to be sweet to me.”

“Sweet on you,” he says. 

You blink.

“I am sweet on you, love. While I won’t deny that I am a flirt at heart and do my best to charm most anyone, I have dedicated my time to you as of late. Truth be told, I'd quite like to be your loverboy.” He pauses, looking over your face, a grin spreading across his. “But I suppose your inexperience explains why you’ve been so oblivious.” He’s made himself laugh now. 

You lean forward and smack him on the bicep, and even though it is a firm hit, there’s no malice in it, especially with that smile on your face. He’s not wrong at all—you have been oblivious. 

Sirius falls back dramatically onto the couch, feigning severe pain. “Fuck, you’ve wounded me.”

You roll your eyes, watching how he clutches his arm and gasps for air. His braids are splayed out, his cheeks a shade of rosy pink. He looks so…gorgeous. You’re in awe of him. It’s like when you stare at the statue of David, just completely entranced by how beautiful this man made of marble is. That’s how looking at Sirius feels. Taking in something so soft and knowing it should be handled with care. 

You hold out your hands, wiggling your fingers. “Alright, come on. You’ll recover.”

Sirius grabs hold of you, allowing you to hoist him up. When you do, you could easily touch noses. There’s a new tension in the room, one you’re sure anyone would be able to feel if there were more people there. 

You look down when you realize Sirius hasn’t let go of your hands. “So, what do you say?” he asks, bringing your attention back to his face.

Say something, you tell yourself. You’re just staring at each other, and you’ve got to speak. Your heart is pounding, rattling your rib cage. You want to have all of these experiences, you really do, but it’s also so terrifying to think about the vulnerability that comes with them. Though…it’s Sirius. And if you’re being truly honest, you’ve always wished it’d be him. That he’d look at you…the way he is now.

“I—I’d really like that. If you’d really like to deal with my clumsiness and all.” You give him a shy smile, and suddenly he’s threading his fingers with yours. He raises his hands, forcing you to do the same. Your fingers are intertwined, his hand engulfing yours, which is undoubtedly much smaller. 

You’re holding hands.

“Look, love. Now you’ve held hands romantically.” He laughs a little at the look on your face, one he’s sure is a result of the awe you’re in. You’ve never done this before. It feels so nice to have his hands in yours. They’re so warm, and sparks are shooting up your wrists. You feel giddy. 

You bite your lip in an effort to suppress the excitement that is practically begging to come out. He sees it though. “Is this making you happy, darling?” he asks. You nod enthusiastically, your ears burning. “Perfect. And about what you said, I did warn you that I was head over heels for you, so I might be so weak in the knees that I’ll be clumsy too.” He winks.

You squeeze his fingers experimentally. A little nervously. “You’re sure you want to do all this with me?”

Sirius squeezes back, his thumbs rubbing over your skin. “Of course I am. You trust me, don’t you?” He already knows the answer to that, but how could he not make sure that you feel safe with him?

“Always,” you say. 

“Good.” He glances down at your clasped fingers. “Wanna keep holding hands? It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”

You giggle, and he swears his insides turn to jelly at how sweet the sound is. “I think I’ve been spoiled now,” you say. “I might always want to hold your hands.”

Sirius presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle, locking eyes with you as he does it. Your heart kicks against your throat, your chest aching with the lack of air you’re getting. 

“You think you’re spoiled now? Best prepare yourself then, love.”

————

Sirius was right.

And that was confirmed when he gave you your first real hug. Not the quick hug you give your grandmother or your friend on the way out the door. But one of those hugs you’ve always seen in muggle romantic comedies or read about in your novels. The kind of hug you’ve never been able to fully wrap your mind around, but have imagined more than is healthy. When you lay in bed at night, clutching your teddy bear and wishing you could feel someone with you. 

He gave you your first romantic hug. And you’ve requested one each time he’s available. 

The request came after dinner one night, when he was watching you diligently scoop ice cream into a cone for him. Because you wanted to. Sirius hated to boost his own ego, but he had to admit that the way you had changed since furthering your relationship with him had you glowing. It’s not that you weren’t happy before, because you were, but this is different. It’s like he’s unlocked this vault inside of you, one where you’ve stored all this love and kindness, and he gets to experience it. 

He’s never seen you so…free. 

You’d set the ice cream cone down on the counter for him. “Ta-da,” you said, sticking the spoon back in the container and waiting for him to pick his toppings. He did so, admiring how you’d chosen things you knew he liked, how you were so giddy just from this moment. Your hair was a mess and you were wiping the stickiness from your fingers and he was so overwhelmed by you. 

“Sweetheart?” He’d asked, eyeing you as you did a happy little wiggle when you took a bite of the cheesecake ice cream you’d found earlier in the week. Your eyes found his, all doe-like, and your nose wrinkled because of how the pet name flustered you. 

He’d been trying those out too, and while getting you to do the same had been slow-going because of your nerves, you loved when he used them for you. 

You’d put down your spoon and hummed. “Yeah?”

He stepped closer to you. “Can I hug you, love?”

Your breath had caught, and at the same time that you were feeling immensely nervous and flustered, you were so excited. So excited to be hugged properly and by someone you were over the moon for. 

“Please?” 

You smiled and he laughed boyishly, moving in until your chests were almost touching. Your pulse hammered against your wrist. 

Sirius bent slightly, allowing you to rise up on your toes. He wrapped his arms around your waist, locking them snuggly against your back. Yours went around his neck, squeezing his shoulders. The entirety of his front pressed to yours, and he was so warm. 

Your fingers tentatively moved into the hair at the base of his neck, and you tucked your face into his neck, where he immediately felt your smile against his skin. 

Suddenly, Sirius had secured his arms tightly around you and lifted you up into the air, hoping to make you laugh. To show how giddy he was feeling. Because in truth, holding you like this, having you be his, filled a void in him he wasn’t even aware of. You were quickly becoming the air he breathed and everything in between. 

You kicked your feet and chuckled into his shoulder. He set you back down on the floor, and you hugged him for a bit longer. His were all-embracing, and in his arms, somehow all of your thoughts were immediately shut off, as if this was all the world consisted of. For Sirius, your hug made him feel as though this was the safest place he could ever be, and he knew it would be where he should go when he needed security. And you had this way of getting him to focus, to calm down and be present. 

Needless to say, you were both falling for each other. Though it should be mentioned that he’d already started before your relationship furthered, and you had suppressed your heart-eyes for him only because you never thought this kind of feeling was real. That it would be impossible for a boy to treat you this way. You try to let the little girl in you who always hoped for a fairytale romance celebrate every now and then.

There hasn’t been a label put on your relationship, but one night before you got there to hang out with everyone, Sirius calmly told the boys (and girls) that things between you had escalated to more-than-friends. And while they know you, it still felt right to make sure they wouldn’t pester you. 

In fact, they were overjoyed to see the both of you act so sweetly towards one another. James whispered in Lily’s ear more than once about how Sirius could not seem to take his eyes off you. Remus helped you in the kitchen and told you how nice it was seeing you so happy. So light. He’d given you a quick hug and wished you the best.

You have never felt so at ease.

Sirius has taken you on a number of dates at this point, some quaint and intimate, some more outgoing. You’ve held hands, hugged. You even got to cuddle with him on the couch. 

But you haven’t kissed. 

And you want to kiss him, so very bad.

But that is terrifying. 

All of your fears revolving that form of affection rush to the surface each time you contemplate when would be best to kiss him, if he wants to kiss you. What if you’re broken and you don’t feel anything? What if there’s no spark? What if, after all this time of hoping kissing would be enjoyable, after craving that intimacy, it just doesn’t work?

Every time you’re around him, all you want is to kiss him. You want that beautiful, sarcastic mouth on yours. You want to know what his plush lips feel like and learn how to kiss properly. You want to fluster him, and you want to be flustered. You want this. 

If you asked Sirius, you’d know he wants the same thing. Truthfully, he wants to pin you to the wall and kiss you silly. Until you forget every worry and anything that’s made you sad. Until all you feel is him. He wants to smother your pretty face in kisses. He wants to kiss every inch of you. 

Tonight, you’re going to Sirius’ place for a sleepover. And you are going to be brave and kiss him.  

————

Your socked feet are in Sirius’ lap, where he’s pushed your pajama pants up your calves so that he can rub his hands across the soft skin there.

Every once in a while, he’ll tickle the underside of your knee just to get you to giggle.

You’ve stopped paying any attention to the movie, and instead are looking at him. The only light in his small living room comes from the television and the array of eclectic lamps scattered around any surface he could fit one on. 

It casts shadows on his face, elongating that beautiful nose and the hollows of his cheekbones. His gray eyes look so dark, like storm clouds right before they let out all the rain they’ve been holding in. 

“Love?”

Sirius’ voice snaps you and your pounding heart out of your reverie. Your eyes lock with his, and you feel yourself heat up all over. He’s smiling at you. 

“Can you tell me what’s happening in the movie?” he asks you, crossing his arms in that oh so cocky way. 

Your thumb finds your bottom lip, picking at the skin there and trying to disguise the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You shake your head, shyly. 

He straightens and leans in closer to you. “And why’s that, sweetheart?”

He has a hunch, but he wants you to say what’s on your mind, and you know that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. You know he could sit here all night until you spill your guts. 

“‘Cause I’ve been thinking about how bad I wanna kiss you.”

Sirius blushes, but he turns on the charm just as quickly. “Yeah? What’s stopping you?”

He places his hands on your knees. “I’m nervous,” you tell him. “You know I’ll be bad at it, and it might suck because of me, and even if all I want to do is kiss your sweet face, I just…want it to be good.”

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. “Well, you know if it’s bad, that just means we get to practice.” You snort, and he rests his forehead against yours in an effort to console you and your nerves. 

You pull back and put your hands on his chest. It takes everything in you not to grin at how hard his heart is beating, especially with the swell of pride you feel knowing you’re the cause of that. 

“I really want to kiss you, Sirius.”

“I really want you to kiss me, darling.”

You inhale, scrunching your nose at him. At this point, you’ve got heart palpitations that are only going to get worse if you don’t act on this. 

“Meet me halfway?” you ask, tentatively. 

Sirius cups your face, leaning in slightly, but leaving you room to initiate. “Of course,” he breathes. 

You take hold of his wrists, fingers trembling. The feeling of his pulse both calms you and makes you sweat. 

You move forward, tilting your head to the side a little so you don’t smack noses. You can infer that much, at least. He inches closer each time you do, matching your pace. It almost makes you want to laugh at how slow and careful this is. You could also cry. 

When you’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, you let your eyes close fully, as they’d been helping you find your mark so far. He meets you that last inch, and you are so grateful. 

Your lips finally touch in a short, but firm peck. You pull away, smiling, reveling in how soft his lips are. 

But now that Sirius has had a little taste of you, he can’t help but want more. He guides you back to him, helping you find a rhythm together. He slots your bottom lip between his, kissing you so brilliantly your brain empties of all thought. You do your best to kiss him back, albeit a little clumsily. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

You catch on when he takes turns paying attention to each of your lips, and you try and press all of the passion you feel right back into his. 

Every worry you previously had is gone.

You do feel that spark. It feels so magical, so all-encompassing, to be kissed like this. To have Sirius kiss you. 

You’re breathless. 

When Sirius finally pulls back for air, he presses kisses to your jaw and down your throat. The affection is so close to drawing a whimper from your throat. You know immediately that you could get drunk off of him. 

You pull him back up to you by his hair for one more short kiss and he grins boyishly into it. 

He starts to laugh. 

“Shit,” you start. “If I thought I was spoiled before, I really had no idea what was coming to me.”

Sirius tosses his head back, completely infatuated with you and so fucking gleeful at being yours. Because he is. Yours. 

“You’re gonna get sick of me,” you say. “Now I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Oh, love,” Sirius exhales. “What makes you think you’ll have a moment where I’m not the one addicted to you?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[miley1442111]

picking- s.reid

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a/n: i haven't posted pookie bear spencer in a while so here's something i cooked up

summary: spencer notices one of your issues, and is determined to fix it.

pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader

warnings: SKIN PICKING, mentions of reader's fingers bleeding, etc. fluff, spencer being worried about you.

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Spencer Reid was an observant person, he had to be. It was his job to be observant. So, how had he missed this?

You. His girlfriend of 8 months, 3 weeks, 2 days, 2 hours, 23 minutes, and give or take, fourteen seconds. How had he missed it?

He wanted in horror as you bit at the skin around your fingers. “Baby,” he whispered, his voice hushed since he didn't want to wake anyone asleep on the jet. 

“What?” You asked, confused. 

“Stop picking at your skin,” he all but scolded. 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal, just a habit.”

“A bad habit,” he added. 

“Alright, a bad habit,” you chuckled. It wasn’t a big deal, it never had been. It was always something you’d just done. Maybe it was to deal with your anxiety or stress, and yes, you went through plasters like a fucking hospital, but it was jus that, a habit. Not a big deal. “No big deal.”

Spencer’s lips parted into a look of shock. “It’s a very big deal,” he shook his head. “Your finger is bleeding!” 

You shrugged and grabbed your bag, taking out what looked like a small pencil case. It turned out to be a holder for your plasters, medical tape, and scissors  (you had wrapping your finger up down to an art). You started to work immediately, as Spencer watched in intrigue and slight horror as you simply wrapped your finger up. As if it was nothing. 

“Y/n,” he sighed. “That’s not good for you.”

“Spencer,” you sighed, a soft smile on your face. Though you adored the act of kindness he was showing you, you really didn’t mind the issue. “It’s truly not a big deal to me.”

He huffed. “Please-”

“Spencer, stop,” your patience was going thin. It was fine. It was coping. “Please.”

He nodded, but his thoughts were plagued with ways to stop it, and trust me, he was going to stop it. 

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

The next week, he stocked his apartment with plasters and medical tape, but also fidget toys for you to fiddle with instead. When you came over you appreciated the gesture, but none of the toys worked as well as your regular picking. Spencer was at a loss, and he  had no idea what to do. 

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

As you lay in bed one morning, Spencer’s arms wrapped around you, you found his hands drifting to yours.

“Your poor fingers,” he whispered and you chuckled. 

“I think I’ll survive,” you laughed. 

He huffed, and didn’t push the subject further. 

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

One day, he finally made leeway. You took to one of the fidget toys he got you, a peeling rock that had been his last resort. 

“This is great!” You smiled. “Thanks Spence.”

“No problem,” he smiled back. “So you’ll stop picking at your skin?”

You sighed. “I’ll try, but I can’t just bring this anywhere-”

“There’s a smaller one too. I got it, but I thought you’d prefer the bigger one for being at home,” he cut you off, meaning there was no arguing. He really had thought of everything.

“You really just think of everything, don’t you?” You chuckled. 

Spencer shrugged. “Fail to plan, plan to fail.”

You laughed, and pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”

And that made it worth it. Months and months of worry and trials. You loved him. He loved you. Your sweet smile and kind words, god, he thought he’d go to the ends of the Earth if you asked him to, just because you wanted him to. 

And he was ok with that. You loved him.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

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@princess76179

@khxna

[bucks-babe]

Virgin Bucky NSFW Alphabet

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Huge thanks as always to the incredible @buckys-wintersoldier for reading my brainrot; however, any and all mistakes are my own. I do not consent to my work being reposted - likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. And @espinosaurusrexex and @lanabuckybarnes, here it is

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jamie is still getting used to the huge rush of emotions he gets after sex. He feels so vulnerable and confused as to how he could go from such a strong high to feeling like he can’t breathe. No matter what, though, he knows that you will take care of him. If you’re on top he will cling to you like a koala bear, trying to keep you as close to him as possible. If he’s on top of you, he’ll collapse on your chest and listen to your heartbeat, your arms wrapped around him, protecting him from the outside world.. 

You keep your hands on his body at all times, whispering how good he was for you, how proud you are of him, how much you appreciate him trusting you with his heart and soul. You let him decide what he wants to do next. If he wants to take a shower, cuddle, eat, whatever he wants you’ll do. If he doesn’t feel like talking after, you talk for the both of you. He loves to hear the sound of your voice, it doesn’t matter what you’re talking about, it soothes him. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jamie never loved any part of his body, especially after being tortured and abused by Hydra for so long, but you made him see that he’s beautiful inside and out. His favorite body part of his own has to be his thighs. He loves to see you lay your head on his lap, arms wrapping around the thick muscle like it’s a stuffed animal. He loves that almost as much as he loves to see you ride his thigh, taking your pleasure from his body. You look so gorgeous lost in pleasure from just his thigh.

His favorite body part of yours? - Stomach. It’s soft and warm - safe. He is always touching your stomach in some way, whether it be his hands kneading the soft flesh or his head resting there, using you as his own personal pillow

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jamie cums, and he cums a lot. He cums for minutes on end and his heavy balls produce so much cum. It could take him 8 to 11 orgasms in a row before he starts to shoot blanks. Of course that means that his cum has to go somewhere. It’s hard for him to leave the warmth of your cunt when he's cumming, but when he's feeling needy, he’ll pull out, jerking himself off on your pussy, covering your lower lips with his white spend before pushing back in and filling you to the brim. Feeling his sticky cum slap against his pelvis with each thrust only spurs him on more.

If he wasn’t so feral for you then he would keep cumming inside of your pussy over and over again, but Jamie likes messy sex, he likes marking you. He’ll cum on your thighs, using it as lube to keep going. Tits and stomach of course, licking it off after or press his body against yours to share his cum. He loves to fuck your face whilst you lay down on the bed, listening to you choke and sputter on his cum, only pulling back when he feels the overflow leak out around his sack, finishing the rest on your face. And once your entire front is covered with him, he’ll work on your back and ass, and he won’t stop until your entire body is white with him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to have his balls played with, sucked, licked, the whole nine. And when you brought up the topic he couldn’t resist, going from a subby baby to using you as he pleased. 

“You gonna sit on my face, sugar? Wrap those pretty thighs around my head? Yeah, you are.” Bucky takes a deep breath, his cock leaking precum on your face in a near constant stream.

“Yes, mommy, so hard f’you.” Bucky grabs the fleshlight that you bought for him a while ago. It’s not his first time using it, but it still makes his cock throb at the sight. Straddling your head, he looks down at you, his precum glazing your face, lowering down when you nod your head.

“Shittt, open your mouth, baby, can’t fit inside.” He has to reach down and almost forces both of his balls in your mouth. “Sack too fucking big for your slutty mouth. Just want to feel that tight mouth sucking my nuts, ohhh yesss, use your tongue, more, fuck, m’gonna cum before my dick s’even this little pussy.”

You choke and sputter about his sack, your jaw stretching more than it ever has. The soft dusting of hairs tickle, yet the soft, smooth skin makes your cunt pulse and ache. “Fuck, yes, choke on them, too fucking big to let you breathe. But you like that don’t ya? You fucking love choking on your daddy’s fat ballsack.” He holds your head in place, grinding against your mouth, moaning at the feeling of your nose brushing against his rim. He thrusts into the toy, making sure not to stray too far from your tight heat. Your spit and the lube of the fleshlight creating an obscene wetness that makes his cock harder.

“M’gonna bust, oh shittt, pleasepleaseplease, oh fuck, s’good, can you feel it? Can you feel my sack about to explode?” You shake your head from side to side, practically gargling your spit. Just when you feel his sack tighten, he pulls out, a thick stream of saliva being smacked into your face as he shoves his cock down your throat, balls pressing against your nose and forehead, fleshlight long forgotten.

His body falls down, legs spreading to get deeper as he brutally shoves his cock into your throat over and over again, wet, slobbery balls bouncing off your face, forcing you to close your eyes, no matter how much you wanted to see his fat sack beat against you.

“Oooohhhh, fuckkk, can feel my nuts everywhere, so wet.” You struggle against his cock, fighting for oxygen, but he just goes faster, thicker ropes of cum shooting out. “You can take it, sweet girl, take my load, my perfect cumdump. Gonna do this with your pussy next, and then your ass.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

It’s no secret that Jamie doesn’t have any experience at all. Before you the only action he ever got was a sweet kiss at the end of his date in the 40’s. But he is extremely willing to learn, wanting to give you everything he has to offer. Luckily for you he’s an extremely quick learner and has found ways to make you cum that you didn’t know was possible.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When he’s feeling subby he wants you to ride him into oblivion. It doesn’t matter if it’s from the front or the back. He’ll gladly watch your tits bounce in his face, desperate to take a nipple in his mouth, or from the back with your ass jiggling with every movement, landing hard smacks on your soft flesh. That or missionary so he can watch your pretty face while he makes you feel good.

“Please, doll, closer.” 

Bucky pulls you down, his arms wrapped around your back, pressing your entire body to his. Your skin slides against his, slick with sweat. He plants his feet on the bed, frantically fucking up into you, desperate to feel more of you.

“Oh God, doll, it’s so fucking good, you’re choking my cock, gonna cum, please let me cum, please.” 

He’ll beg every time even though you rarely edge him, and that’s only when he asks you to. You always let him cum and he’ll bury his head in your chest, moaning around your nipple as ropes and ropes of his load shoot into you, still pounding, his cum squirting out.

When he’s feeling dominant he’ll contort your body every which way. Legs on his shoulders while he leans over, raising your ass in the air in the process, from behind slapping your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jamie is rarely goofy during sex. Your pussy makes him so drunk that he doesn’t have a single thought in his head. He is so caught up in the feeling of you around him, skin pressed together that nothing can break his concentration.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

When he was a prisoner in Hydra, they waxed his entire body, sans his head. Legs - waxed, arms - waxed, chest - waxed, pubes - waxed. It was a form of torture, taking away his choice, altering his body the way they wanted. Now he lets his hair grow. He keeps his tufts of chest hair and leaves his legs alone. The only part that he grooms is his pubic hair. He’ll trim his bush, not wanting to go full jungle but he doesn’t go bald, loving the way your cream looks on them.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He desperately craves intimacy. You’re the only person that he lets touch him. Maybe Steve or Sam giving him a short hug, but other than that, he cringes away from touch. But when it comes to you, he needs to be touching you at all times, feeling your soft, warm body pressed against his, your scent surrounding him.

During sex, he needs to be close to you, his cock inside not enough to satisfy him. In missionary he’ll wrap his arms around you, letting his weight fall, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands running down his body, gripping and scratching whatever you can reach, doing the same thing with cowgirl.

“Doll, s’perfect, love you so much, oh god, please.” Bucky’s practically sobbing into your neck, his slick body sliding against your skin, hips pounding into yours, hitting your sweet spot every time without fail.

“Need you, doll, please, I can’t, uuuhhhh.” In his pleasure riddled mind, he can’t verbalize what he needs, but you always know even when he can’t say it.

You hike your legs higher, pulling him closer while your hands interlock with his, raising them above your head. “Jamie, feel so good inside me, m’so close. Want to cum with you, baby. Please, need you to cum for me, can’t hold it.” You moan with every rope of cum shooting into you, your own orgasm milking more out of his dick.

In pretty much every other position, if he can’t be pressed against you or if he wants to watch your ass or tits jiggle, he’ll hold your hands, hips, thighs, neck, any part of your body he can reach.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off a lot. He has 80 years to make up for, and he’ll get hard at the slightest thing. He swears that the wind can blow and his cock gets hard as a rock. Not only that, but you both are Avengers and have missions, not always together and it’s impossible to ignore his raging erection.

“What the fuck am I doing?” In any other scenario, he would feel ashamed, but he can’t bring himself to at the moment, so horny that he’d do anything to cum. He huffs and folds the pillow; the first thought he had when laying down in his feeble attempt to sleep was how good the silk pillowcase would feel around his dick.

It didn’t take him long to get his first load out, a full minute of aiming his cum at the pillow, creating his own lube. His cock pulses at the wet sound the pillow makes when he folds it. He has the pillow on the bed, each hand pressing down as hard as possible, making the makeshift hole as tight as possible. He whimpers at the first slide of his dick, the silk soft and smooth against him.

“Fuck, doll, need your pussy. Not as good, my cock s’hard for you. Such a waste of my load, know that you would take it, oh shit.” His hips pick up speed, the hotel bed creaking under his frantic thrusts. Bucky bites his lip, trying to hold in his moans, the springs squeaking causing flashes of you bouncing on his cock, the old frame barely able to withstand the hard pounding.

“Wish you were here, doll. You’d look so pretty covered in my load. Pretty tits painted white, letting me lick it off, spit it in your mouth. Oh god, here it comes, gonna take it all? Yeah you are, my perfect little cumdump.” The next morning, Bucky made sure to take the pillow and its case down to the dumpster before anyone could see, the entire thing soaked with his cum, but not before sending you pictures of his tongue full of cum and a video of his cock sliding in and out of the makeshift toy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Daddy/Mommy kink, breeding, cumplay, marking, ball worship, praise/degradation, pain, edging/getting edged, overstimulation, watching porn together

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place is definitely the bedroom. Tony soundproofed all the rooms and Bucky couldn’t have been happier about that. He doesn’t want anyone to hear how he begs and moans, borderline screaming sometimes. The two of you are planning to get your own place someday and Jamie can’t wait to be able to fuck you wherever he wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, plain and simple. He’s never felt attraction so strong until he met you and his cock is always begging to be sucked or fucked. He doesn't know if it’s the serum or just how much he loves you, but he could go all day every day, maybe with a few breaks in between to make sure that his dick isn’t about to fall off with how much he uses it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesome - You’re the first person that Jamie has trusted fully since the 40’s and he has no desire to be with another person. You’re his everything and he doesn’t need anyone else but you

Exhibitionism - He’s still very insecure about his body, rarely leaving the house without triple checking that his metal arm isn’t visible to anyone. The thought of anyone watching him make love to you terrifies him. You make him feel perfect, but what if someone else knows how fast you make him cum, how he begs and pleads for you to hold him while he ruts into you, desperate to get that much closer to you? He wants to keep your sex life private and he’s not going to risk anyone seeing or hearing

CNC - Bucky has been through a lot when he was with Hydra and he wants to stay as far away from that as he can

Heavy degradation/humiliation - He loves light degradation, calling you a slut or whore for his cock, his little cumdump. He loves when you degrade him for not being able to last, always mixing in praises, letting him know how much you love it..

“Fuck, Jamie, look at you, can’t even hold out for me. ‘S my pussy too good, baby? Makes your fat cock burst? Love your cum, Jamie, wanna suckle your cock all day, keep it warm in my mouth, letting you use me, make me swallow load after load. That’s it, sweetheart, fill my pussy again.”

Even if it was in a safe setting, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you said that he wasn’t good enough, that you should find another man to fuck you and make him watch. He saw it one time when he was watching porn with you and that was the end of the night, you held him in your arms until he fell asleep. He doesn’t know why, but that makes him want to cry, even if you weren’t the one saying that to him

Somnophilia - When you’re asleep, you can’t give consent and neither can he. He’s okay with waking up with you in between his legs, kissing and sucking on his thighs purposefully waiting until he wakes up to touch his cock and vice versa

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jamie loves both. He truly doesn’t think that he would be able to live without either. He wants to drown in your pussy.

“Lower, doll, I told you to sit on my face, so sit.”

He doesn’t wait for you before wrapping his arms around your thighs, dragging you all the way down, taking the liberty to grind your hips for you.

His moans are muffled and you can’t understand what in the hell he’s trying to say, but you know.

“Pussy’s so fucking good.”

“Tastes so sweet.”

“Just like that, doll.”

“Making my cock so fucking hard.”

“Gonna cum just like this. You’d like that too, huh? Me busting a fat load without you even touching me? Yeah you fucking would, cause you’re my little slut.”

“Love you so much, can’t live without you.”

He never knew how good blowjobs could feel. The first time you went down on him he got it, he understood why men go so crazy over it. He may have never gotten head before, but he’s sure that there’s no one better than you.

“Lean just a bit more. There you go, good girl.”

He has your head laying off the side of the bed, throat ready to be ruined. You’re almost drooling at the sight of his thick cock hard and pulsing.

The first thrust is shallow, trying his hardest to not push you, but you want him to ruin you, push you to your limits and then tell you that you can take more because you’re his good little slut.

You tap his thigh so he’ll pull off only to tell him to fuck you like you’re a fleshlight, and that sends him over the edge. He widens his stance and places a hand on your throat, dragging his cock and balls around your face, rutting into you, before doing exactly what you asked, so what if everyone asked you if you were getting a cold the next day when you couldn’t speak?

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rarely will it be slow and sensual. Jamie can’t control himself when he’s inside of you. He chases the feeling of your tight walls choking him over and over again. The only thoughts going through his mind is making you cum and cumming. It’s slow when he’s worn out from his missions or deep in subspace and you’ll warm his cock in your cunt while he sucks and fondles your tits. He can’t stop his cock from bursting even if he doesn’t move.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t like quickies. He wants to cum as many times as he can, make you cum as many times as possible before one of you passes out. Usually when he’s extremely horny, you’ll pull him away to suck him off.

“Come on, Jamie, we don’t have much time.” You glance at your phone - 5 minutes before you have to be at the meeting. You can do it in two. You lead him into a closet, locking the door behind you and quickly slipping your panties off from under your skirt.

“Can’t wait to be inside you. Please tell me you’re ready, need it now.” You only shake your head, balling up the garment and placing it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back at your essence hitting his tongue.

“Not right now, Jamie. Gonna suck your cock. If you want I’ll let you cum in my pussy and walk around with you in me for the rest of the day.” Bucky’s eyes bulge, wanton moans leaving his lips, hands flying down to pull his jeans down just enough for you to get to his cock.

“Needy aren’t we? But don’t worry, I won’t tease you. We only have three more minutes.” Without hesitation you swallow his entire cock, gagging on his thick length. Your throat immediately welcoming him, remembering the shape of his perfect length. 

“Mmmhh!” You can’t make out any of his words, but the panties help to muffle his sounds. You bob your head faster, moaning at the surplus of precum oozing out of his tip, spit already dripping down to his balls. This is how he likes it - sloppy and dirty. Spit and tears. Ruining you, maybe even taking your voice away.

Your nose pressed up against his pubes, shaking your head from side to side before pulling off, both hands jerking his cock, twisting from base to tip. Innocently you look up at him, tears streaming down your face, spit and precum covering your chin. “Can feel you pulsing, aching, baby, cock begging to bust. You need to cum, don’t you? Where do you want it, baby? Can cum wherever you want, just want your cum, wanna be your little cumslut.”

Bucky’s hips jerk, head thrown back, moans barely being contained by your underwear. He grips you, pulling you up and spinning you around, going balls deep into your cunt, your slick making the slide smooth. You moan with each jerk of his hips, warm pussy welcoming his heavy load. 

When he pulls out, you take your panties back, swiftly putting them on, making sure none of his cum goes to waste. “Did it in one, Buck. You proud of me?”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s not one for risks, not wanting anyone to hear or see him in such a vulnerable state. But if it’s with you in the privacy of your shared room, then he’s willing to experiment with you. Fantasies, toys, kinks, as long as you both feel comfortable with it, he trusts you to take care of him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He doesn’t last very long. The first time he was in your pussy, he blew his load as soon as the tip was in. He has gotten a bit better with holding it in, but you love when he cums so fast and so much so he doesn’t try to hold it back for too long, but he can go for hours without his cock getting soft. After a while, no more cum shoots out of his cock but that doesn’t stop him from fucking you until he cums again, only slightly missing his cum filling you up, but by then you’re covered from head to toe with his load.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a few toys that you’ve got him - fleshlight and cock ring, but his favorite are your toys. He is obsessed with using them on you, and you using them on him.

“Faster, doll, c’mon.” You huff but slam your hips down harder, moaning at the fullness of the dildo in your pussy and his cock in your ass. “Oh, fuck yeah. This how it feels, doll? Is this why you go so crazy over my cock, huh?” Bucky moves his own hips faster, with every thrust his own dildo slides in and out of his ass. 

“Shit, m’gonna cum again, shit, takeittakeit. FUCK.” Bucky practically screams when his cock bursts, his load immediately pushed out of you ass, leaking to the floor, the sound of your cum covered ass bouncing against the floor causes a new wave to wash over him.

“Ooohhh, shit, doll. Can barely fucking move. My ass is gripping this cock so much, needed this fat cock in me.” He throws his head back, fucking into you as fast as he possibly could, creating a seesaw with his dick in your ass and the dildo in his. “Sogoodsogoodsogood. Gonna blow, haven’t even finished and I’m gonna cum again.” It was a long night and by the end of it there were puddles of your squirt and his cum on the floor.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease unless he’s being dominant. On a regular day he just wants to see you cum, and get drunk on his cock.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

LOUD. He can’t help but to let out the most salacious sounds. A few times he questioned if the soundproofed walls really did stop the whole compound from hearing him scream as he busted load after load. He’ll whine and whimper, grunt and groan, moan and scream, cry and beg. Pretty much every sound he could make. There is no way in hell that he would ever be able to stay quiet, even for a minute.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he is extremely overwhelmed he likes to lay on your chest, gently sucking on your nipple with his cock in between your thighs, slowly fucking the soft flesh until he cums, using his load as lube to keep going until he’s completely drained of everything. Quickly falling asleep on your chest, soft cock surrounded by your soft thighs and his multiple super soldier loads.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He has a big, fat cock. Around 8 inches in length and thick as all hell. He’s uncut and has the most beautiful veins dancing around his length. Before the serum his dick was around 7 but he always has girth. The thing that the serum really changed was his balls. They went from a normal size to very large. Each one is around the size of an orange. They’re so big that he has to get custom underwear to support them when he walks, if not then they would get in the way of his everyday life, swinging around, slapping against his thighs, more than once he's sat on them by accident. 

He can’t even be mad about it though because they let him cum so much and for so long. If he thought they were sensitive before, then he doesn’t know what they are now. You love to suck and lick his sack and he loves it just as much. The both of you found out that you shared a ball kink, neither of you knowing until he pulled his pants down and they were there in all their glory. Touching his sack feels almost as good as when you touch his dick - almost. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Do I even need to say anything? 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Jamie used to struggle to fall asleep, terrified of the nightmares that constantly plagued him, but your pussy puts his ass to sleep. He sleeps like a baby after giving you everything he has to offer, more than willing to fall asleep covered in his own cum with how tired he gets.

[inkspiredwriting]

payback

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

A/N: This was a request. As always, feel free to say if you liked it, even if you didn't, please tell me.

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was not a man easily rattled. He'd seen the end of the world, faced off against assassins, and outwitted time itself. But there was one person in the universe who could consistently throw him off balance, and that was his wife, Y/n.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, the kind where the world felt slow and peaceful. Five and Y/n were lounging in the living room, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Five had his nose buried in a book, his usual brooding expression softened in the comfort of home.

Y/n, on the other hand, was in a mischievous mood. She had been plotting a little prank for weeks, ever since Five had teased her relentlessly about a minor kitchen mishap that had left their kitchen covered in flour. He’d insisted on calling her "Flour Queen" ever since, and she figured it was time to get a little payback.

"Five," Y/n said, her voice deliberately serious as she folded her hands in her lap.

"Mmm?" Five replied, not looking up from his book.

"We need to talk."

Something in her tone made Five pause. He looked up, brow furrowing in concern. "What’s wrong?"

Y/n took a deep breath, putting on her best somber expression. "I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and… I think we should get a divorce."

Five blinked, his brain momentarily short-circuiting as he processed her words. "A… a what?"

"A divorce," Y/n repeated, keeping her voice steady despite the laughter bubbling up inside her. "It’s just… I don’t know if I can do this anymore."

Five’s book slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a thud. He stared at her, his usual composure cracking. "Y/n, what are you talking about? Why would you want a divorce?"

Y/n bit her lip, struggling to maintain her serious expression. "Well, for one, you never help with the dishes."

Five blinked again. "The dishes?"

"Yeah, and you’re always leaving your socks everywhere. And don’t even get me started on your time travel obsession. I just… I need more in a marriage, Five."

Five’s eyes widened as he frantically searched for words. "I… I can do the dishes! And… and I’ll put my socks away! We can talk about time travel less—wait, is this about the flour incident? Because I was just joking, Y/n. You know I love you more than anything!"

Y/n pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. She could see the genuine panic in Five’s eyes, and it was almost too much to bear. But she wasn’t done yet.

"It’s not just that, Five," she continued, her voice wavering just enough to make it believable. "I just feel like… like you don’t appreciate me anymore."

Five stood up, moving to her side with a desperation she hadn’t seen since the apocalypse. He took her hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. "Y/n, that’s not true. I appreciate you more than anyone. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel… human. I can’t lose you. Please, let’s talk about this. We can work it out, I promise."

Y/n could barely hold it together now. The sight of Five, normally so calm and collected, practically pleading with her was both heartbreaking and hilarious. She took a deep breath, deciding it was time to end the prank before Five actually had a meltdown.

"Five," she said, her voice softening, "I’m just messing with you."

Five froze, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What?"

"I’m kidding, Five," Y/n said, unable to keep the smile off her face any longer. "I don’t want a divorce. I was just getting you back for all the ‘Flour Queen’ jokes."

For a moment, Five just stared at her, processing what she had said. Then, as realization dawned, his expression shifted from shock to something between relief and exasperation.

"You… you little—" Five started, but he was cut off by Y/n’s laughter.

She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she giggled uncontrollably. "You should’ve seen your face! You were so serious!"

Five let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his heart still racing from the scare she had given him. But as Y/n’s laughter filled the room, he couldn’t help but smile. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"You’re evil, you know that?" he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice.

"Maybe a little," Y/n admitted, looking up at him with a playful grin. "But you deserved it."

Five shook his head, still in disbelief that he had fallen for her prank. "I really thought you were serious."

"I know," Y/n said, her smile softening as she reached up to touch his cheek. "But seriously, Five… I love you. And I’m not going anywhere."

Five’s heart swelled with affection as he looked into her eyes, filled with warmth and mischief. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you too, Y/n. But if you ever scare me like that again, I might have to time travel just to get even."

Y/n laughed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Deal."

Five sighed, finally relaxing as the tension melted away. He knew that life with Y/n would never be boring, and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

They spent the rest of the day together, the earlier scare quickly forgotten as they settled back into their usual rhythm. Five couldn’t help but chuckle every now and then, still amazed at how Y/n had managed to pull one over on him.

As they curled up on the couch that evening, Y/n resting her head on Five’s shoulder, he glanced down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, I was this close to agreeing to anything just to make you stay."

"Good to know I have that power," Y/n teased, poking him in the side.

Five chuckled, pulling her closer. "Just don’t abuse it too much, alright?"

"No promises," Y/n said with a wink.

And as the evening sun set, casting a warm glow over them, Five realized that he had found something far more valuable than anything time travel could offer—a love that was playful, strong, and endlessly surprising.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight. 

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.  

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it.  It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing. 

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness. 

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.  

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date. 

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles. 

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk. 

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags. 

“Oh, cool, want me to come?” 

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list. 

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands. 

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him. 

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one. 

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away. 

“Nice day,” he says. 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. 

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart. 

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say. 

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.” 

“Oh, alright.” 

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you. 

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.” 

“In the grocery store?” You challenge. 

“It’s cute.” 

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.” 

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims. 

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar. 

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee. 

“Need some help?”  

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America. 

“Uhhh...” 

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?” 

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat. 

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.” 

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart. 

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.” 

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people. 

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.” 

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else? 

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle. 

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word. 

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed. 

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi you gorgeous gorgeous ray of sunshine i hope your day is majestic and awesome <3

I come bearing a request hehe

So can i please get a poly!marauders x fem reader where she has alot of work or something to get done lately and its just sucking the absolute lights out of her (uni is beating me up help) and she os sort of just dimmed and out of it and one of them asks her if she is okay and she just breaks down and they comfort her like the sweet loving boys they are (just cuddles and fluff to save my day pls) THANK YOUU

sorry this is so late gorgeous! i hope things are better now!

cw: anxiety attack fluff, stress

924 words

Despite your best efforts, you knew that you weren’t any fun right now. It felt like you were a black hole, sucking all of the joy out of the room with no end in sight. It made you feel horrible, especially since you were surrounded with copious amounts of love and affection. Way more than you could ever hope to ask for, and for some reason, you couldn’t allow yourself to fully appreciate it. You were trying your best, but every attempt at levity didn’t feel quite right. You could see it in your boyfriends faces too, and though they were gracious enough not to comment on it, you knew they desperately wanted to. You even noticed James placating Sirius earlier when he recounted a funny story and your laugh came out awkwardly pitched. 

You were now attempting to relax, but your muscles refused to un-tense. You were laid on the couch, curled tightly into a ball with your head on Sirius’ lap and your legs pressed against Remus’ thigh, James’ laughter ringing in your ears. You resisted the urge to shift around in discomfort, hoping that the more content you appeared the less distraught you would feel. It wasn’t working very well, if the burning sensation welling in your eyes was any sign of that. You squeezed them shut in hopes it would help. You flinched as cold fingers brushed over your face unexpectedly. 

“You okay, babydoll?” Sirius’ voice was hushed and terribly gentle in the way it was when he’s feeling particularly tender. You nodded a little too aggressively to be believable. He cupped your cheek with his hand, the cool feeling of his palm over your heated face being a little too comforting. A crease appeared between your eyebrows and he made a worried cooing sound. 

“What’s going on?” James turned the TV down. You were being watched and inspected and you hated it. You covered your face as the first sob escaped before you could repress it. 

“Shit, baby.” Sirius stiffened. Remus’ large hands pulled yours away from your face. You held your breath to refrain from sobbing, your shoulders shaking. 

“What’s wrong, lovie? Are you hurt?” James sounded panicked. You hated that you were doing this to him. You shook your head. “What’s happened?” 

“I- I don’t know.” You hiccupped. Your lungs were expanding and contracting rapidly. 

“It’s okay, lovely. Can you breathe for me?” Remus pulled you off of Sirius and onto himself. Usually you would hear a slew of protests from the raven-haired boy, but he was panicked enough to stay silent. You landed face down in Remus’ lap as he rubbed between your shoulder blades. You tried to breathe deeper but when you did you just cried harder. 

“I’m fine. J- just give me a second.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing yourself or the boys. 

“It's okay, baby dove. Just let it out.” Remus said softly. You felt James rubbing your head. All the tenderness was too much and you cried harder. You knew you were wetting Remus’ pajama bottoms with tears and snot, but you were too distraught to care. Slowly, your sobs slowed into quiet sniffles and hiccups, and you wiped your wet face, much too harshly for James’ preference. 

“How’re we doing, sweet girl?” Sirius rubbed your calf tentatively. 

“Better.” You said, still choked. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why that happened.”

“Don’t apologize, dovey.” Remus helped you to sit up. “Just take a minute.” You nodded, feeling lightheaded. James passed you a glass of water with a kiss on your damp cheek. You drank it fast, handing the empty cup back. 

“Do you need anything else?” Sirius turned your face to wipe your cheeks again. 

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” You said, feeling awkward. 

“You don’t have to thank us, baby.” James reached over Remus to grab your hand. “We just want to help, if you’ll let us.”

“I don’t know if you can.” You sighed. 

“Try us.” Sirius said, bordering on challenging. Remus reached his long arm along the back of the couch to squeeze his shoulder in a way that said ‘settle down.’

“I think we can find a way." Remus took a more gentle approach. "You can start by telling us what’s going through that head of yours.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I think that would help.” James said, not giving you time to respond. “We don’t want to force you, but it’s only going to hurt you to keep things inside, lovie.” His eyes were soft and open behind his glasses. It made you feel like you could cry again. 

“There’s nothing huge to talk about, though.” You shrugged. “I think it’s just a bunch of little things, you know?” 

“Well then maybe,” Sirius stage-whispered as if he was spreading classified information. “You can tell us the little things when they come up, before it gets this bad. You couldn’t argue with that. 

“That might help.” You looked down at your hands. “But don’t complain when I start whining over miniscule things.” Remus raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Have you been dating the same Sirius I have?” He grinned and Sirius squawked. You giggled. 

“You’re lucky that I’m more happy about her laughing than I’m mad at that comment.” He crossed his arms and pouted. You laid back down in his lap and smiled up at him. 

“I don’t mind your complaining.” You reached up to touch his face comfortingly. He still scowled.

“At least I’ll have a bitching buddy.” He huffed. 

[lillithsalvatore]

million dollar man

pairing: royal!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: the price of loving a million dollar man, a prince

warning: modern royal au!, mention of cheating, angst, minor dni, cursing, asshole jace (?), cried. like and reblog are appreciated!! my 1st imagine, please be nice!!

---

"Did you fuck her, Jace? Answer me!" you demanded your soon-to-be-husband, your voice trembling with anger as you stared at Jace, eyes burning with rage. In your hand was a newspaper from a well-known publication, which you held up in front of him. A news about him with his 'childhood bestfriend'

When Jace finally confessed, nearly shouting, "Once, just once, and I fucking regreted it" your heart tightened. His admission felt like a powerful blow to the trust and pride you had invested in him. Your anger intensified, but beneath it all, a deep sadness began to take hold of your mind.

"Once?" You gave a bitter smile. "Even once is fucking enough to destroy everything we had, Jace."

Jace looked at you with regretful eyes, but that only made you feel more exhausted. "Do you know? I trusted you more than I trusted myself. And you betrayed that trust for a moment of weakness."

"Y/n…" Jace began, trying to approach you, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"Don't!" you choked out, but your voice remained firm. "Don't make this worse Jace”

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I loved you sincerely, but love cannot continue when trust has been shattered."

Finally, you turned away, heading toward the door,

"I hope you never make anyone else feel the way I did."

Jace stood there, frozen, feeling the pain in every word you spoke. He realized that you were not just angry about the betrayal, but also about feeling disregarded, pushed aside in a relationship where you had poured all your heart and soul.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, —" Jace said, his voice trembling, but you couldn't bear to hear any more. Apologies at this point only deepened the pain.

"Don't apologize, Jace," you replied, your voice breaking with sobs. "Sorry doesn't change anything. You chose her over me, It's always been her, Jace."

You could feel Jace's hand still holding yours, but now, that warmth no longer provided the comfort it once did. Instead, it only reminded you of the times he wasn't there for you, when he chose to protect someone else over you.

“Please don’t do this, please let me fix it” He begged

"I tried so hard, Jace. I gave you everything I had, but you chose her, even if you didn't realize it," you said, your voice now filled with nothing but exhaustion and despair.

Jace didn't know what to do, what to say to fix his mistake. He could feel everything between you falling apart, piece by piece, with no way to put it back together.

"Y/n, I—" Jace started, but you interrupted him, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

"I can't stay here anymore, Jace. I can't keep going like this. I guess that's the price of loving a million dollar man."

"And I giving this ring back to you, I hope you'll find someone who deserve it" You turned away, moving towards the door, trying to leave this suffocating space before your heart completely shattered.

Before opening the door, you looked back at Jace one last time, hoping he would understand what you couldn't put into words: that you had loved him deeply, but you couldn't stay with someone who no longer belonged to you.

And then, you walked out of the apartment. As the door closed behind you, you felt a profound sadness but also a sense of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. The tears had dried up, leaving a void in your heart, but it was a necessary emptiness, allowing you to move forward, to find yourself again and rebuild your life from the ruins.

And though the pain was immense, you knew you had done the right thing. You chose yourself

Jace might realize his mistake, but it was too late. The love and trust you had given him were no longer intact. Now, you had to seek happiness for yourself, a happiness unbound by emotional scars.

And so, you moved on, looking toward the future, knowing you deserved a true love, a love that would never betray you.

[risuola]

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

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