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aquamarixx · 17 days ago

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sweeter the second time around

married out of convenience, you and your best friend, Kita Shinsuke share a not-so-normal married life, intil Kita realizes he never wants to let you go

‎‧₊˚✧ TURNING POINT 2025 ENTRY ✧˚₊‧ pairing kita shinsuke x reader word count 2.9k words tags post timeskip, aged up, friends to lovers, somehow established relationship, hurt/comfort, bit of fluff, marriage of convenience, navigation

You and Kita Shinsuke have always been close—steady, reliable friends who could depend on each other through anything.

It started back in high school, when you crossed paths as the student council secretary and he, the volleyball club’s captain. Even after you moved to Tokyo for university and later got a job there, you never lost contact with him. Through every milestone, every struggle, and every little moment in between, Kita remained a constant in your life—one of the few things that tethered you back to Hyogo, aside from your family.

He’s always been the person who listens without judgment, the one who quietly understands you in a way most people don’t. He knows everything about your life, from the smallest details to the most frustrating realities. Like how your love life, despite your best efforts, has always been disappointingly stagnant.

You’ve tried dating over the years, but relationships never seem to work out. No matter how promising they start, something always feels off. It’s like you’re chasing a connection that just won’t stick.

Kita, on the other hand, has never seemed interested in romance. He’s always been content with his responsibilities, with the joys of his rural life as a rice farmer, never feeling the urgency to settle down.

And then, everything changes.

Your mother—your single mother, the woman who raised you on her own—falls terminally ill. And suddenly, time, something you always thought you had, begins slipping away.

One evening, in the quiet of her hospital room, she smiles at you, eyes warm but tired.

“You used to drape the blankets around yourself like a wedding dress,” she murmurs, voice fragile but full of fondness. “Always twirling, saying you’d be the most beautiful bride in the world.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh, remembering the image vividly. But there’s something in her voice—something wistful.

She squeezes your hand. “I always thought I’d get to see it."

Your throat tightens.

She doesn’t say it as a plea, not as something she expects or even asks of you. It’s just a quiet confession, a bittersweet acceptance that she won’t be there when it happens.

The weight of it presses into your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You try not to cry. Even the tears threatening on your lash line, with all your might, you hold yourself back from sobbing. Instead, you hold her hand a little tighter, as if that alone could slow down time. And you wish it would.

Marriage has never been something you’ve chased. You figured if it happened, it would happen naturally. But now, with her words echoing in your mind, you feel lost.

Later, you tell Kita about it. You’re not sure why. Maybe because he’s the one person who never judges, who always listens. Or maybe because, deep down, you already know he’ll say something that makes it easier to breathe.

He doesn’t respond right away. He just sits with your words, letting them settle between you.

And then, in that calm, matter-of-fact way of his, he says, “Why not marry me, then?”

You blink. “What?”

“I’ll marry you.” His voice holds no hesitation. “It doesn’t have to change anything. If it’ll bring her some peace, we can do it.”

Your heart lurches. “Shin, you don’t have to—”

“I know.” His gaze meets yours, unwavering. “But I want to.”

You stare at him, still trying to process, still trying to find the right words to refuse because this is—this is too much.

“But what if you meet someone?” you blurt out. “Someone you do want to marry?”

“I won’t.” His response is simple, final.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t even say it with sadness. Just with this certainty, like he’s always known.

“We can figure it out later,” he continues, reassuring you. “Right now, what matters is your mom.”

“But still, Shin, this is—”

Before you can finish, you see him reach into his pocket. You watch him as he tinkers with it in his hand before placing it—whatever it is— in your palm.

You glance down. It’s a small, makeshift ring, twisted from a strand of hay, clumsily looped together.

A surprised laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. “Shin—what is this?”

“A proposal.” His lips quirk up slightly, just enough to tell you he’s amused.

It’s ridiculous. A hay ring, of all things. Yet, for some reason, your chest tightens.

Your fingers curl around it, warm against your palm. “You’re serious about this?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” His voice is quiet, steady.

And just like that, the argument dies on your lips.

Because this is Kita Shinsuke. The boy who has always been there in your life. The one who never makes promises he doesn’t intend to keep.

This isn’t a romantic proposal. There’s no nervous confession, no grand gesture. Just the certainty of a man who doesn’t think twice when it comes to doing right by the people he cares about.

And that’s how you find yourself married to your best friend.

Your wedding is small and intimate. Less of a grand affair and more of a quiet gathering of the people who love you both. There are no extravagant decorations, no towering cakes, no lavish venues. Just a modest shrine in Hyogo, the scent of fresh flowers in the air, and the warmth of familiar faces surrounding you.

You rented a beautiful white gown. It’s not the kind you dreamed of as a little girl, but something simple and elegant, something that feels right.

Your friends from Inarizaki High are there, the Miya twins bickering as usual, Suna looking unimpressed but still wearing a pressed suit for the occasion. Kita’s other former volleyball teammates and his grandmother sit near the front, watching everything unfold with quiet joy.

And then, there’s your mother.

She sits in the first row, her hands clasped together, her smile trembling at the edges. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, her face alight with love and pride. This moment isn’t perfect—not in the way you once imagined—but it is enough. Because she is here. She gets to see it.

Only a handful of people know the truth: that this is not a love story, not in the way everyone assumes.

To most, it looks like something out of a dream. Two best friends who have always been by each other’s side, finally finding their way to one another. The way people whisper about how it was inevitable makes you laugh under your breath. If only they knew.

And yet, when you stand at the altar beside Kita, it feels… surreal. Not wrong, not forced, but strange. :ike stepping into a life you never planned for.

You don’t know how to feel.

But when you look at him, standing there in a crisp black suit, something shifts.

Kita has always been composed, always steady, but right now, there is something in his gaze that you’ve never seen before—yearning. Like you are the most beautiful bride he has ever laid eyes on.

It steals the breath from your lungs.

He watches you as if you belong there, as if there was never a version of his life where you wouldn’t end up here, standing next to him.

The ceremony moves forward, words exchanged, vows spoken. You repeat them without hesitation, your voice calm and sure. When it comes time for the ring, Kita slides it onto your finger with the same deliberate care that he does everything. With intention, with certainty, with the kind of patience that makes your heart ache.

Then, the final moment. The kiss to seal your vows.

You barely have time to react before Kita’s hands move. One cradles your face, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, while the other snakes down to the small of your back, pulling you close. His lips meet yours in a long, firm kiss and somehow unexpected in its intensity, yet still so him.

For a moment, the world fades.

His touch is gentle but unyielding, the warmth of him pressing against you in a way that feels almost… real. Your hands, almost instinctively, grip at the fabric of his suit, anchoring yourself.

And when he pulls away, you are left breathless.

A faint red tinge colors Kita’s cheeks, a rare sight, and you find yourself laughing softly. He exhales, lips twitching slightly in amusement.

The moment is fleeting, but it lingers, settling somewhere deep in your chest.

This is the beginning of something new. You don’t know what, exactly.

But it’s something.

You resign from your job in Tokyo, choosing to stay in Hyogo indefinitely, dedicating yourself to your mother. And throughout it all, Kita is there.

He is there in the mornings, helping you prepare your mother’s meals, making sure she takes her medicine even when she insists she doesn’t need it. He is there in the evenings, when exhaustion weighs you down, guiding you to bed before you collapse from lack of sleep.

He is there when you break, when the reality of what’s coming hits you so hard you can’t breathe. He doesn’t try to fix it, doesn’t offer empty words of comfort. He just holds you, steady as ever, as you cry into his chest.

For six months, you live as a married couple.

You cook together, fall into a quiet rhythm of shared responsibilities, navigate the difficult days with patience and understanding. It’s not traditional. It’s not normal.

But it’s yours.

And when the seventh month comes, your mother slips away in her sleep, peaceful and warm in her bed, and the grief is unbearable.

Kita holds your hand at the funeral, fingers wrapped tightly around yours as if to keep you from unraveling. He makes sure you eat when you forget, sits with you in the silence of your shared home, never forcing words where they aren’t needed.

He is there. Always.

And when the dust settles, when the world finally stills, you and Kita remain married.

Eventually, you return to Tokyo. You find a new job, move back in with your friend, and step back into the life you left behind.

But every weekend, you take the two-and-a-half-hour journey back to Hyogo.

It’s a routine you’ve had for years, even before the marriage, and it doesn’t change now.

Kita’s grandmother welcomes you back each time with warm smiles and teasing remarks, treating you as if you’ve always been part of the family. Kita never expects you to play the role of a wife—not in the traditional sense. He never pressures you, never makes you feel obligated.

He doesn’t even mind if you take your ring off.

But you don’t.

You wear it always. Not because you have to, not because anyone expects you to. But because it feels right.

During the weekdays, Tokyo wears you down. The endless crowds, the rush of work, the constant noise—it’s exhausting. By Friday night, your body feels heavy, your mind clouded with stress.

But the moment you step off the train in Hyogo, the air feels different. Lighter. Quieter. Coming home to Kita is like stepping into a world that moves at its own pace, where time slows and nothing feels urgent.

Your married life is simple. Shared dinners at his house, soft laughter over tea, the quiet understanding of two people who know each other well. Chores fall into place naturally, neither of you needing to ask. Some afternoons, you bring him snacks in the fields, watching as he wipes his hands before taking the food from you with a quiet smile. Other days, you visit the market with his grandmother, weaving through stalls and listening to her stories.

When it’s just the two of you, he never forces anything. He doesn’t expect you to be a perfect wife or demand anything beyond what you’re willing to give. The touches he allows himself are simple—his hand finding yours, a light press to your lower back as he guides you through a doorway, a steadying hold on your waist when he moves past you in the kitchen. And then, there are the kisses.

They don’t happen often, but when they do, they linger. He never rushes, never takes more than you give, but there’s something about them—about him. His lips are firm, patient, but starved in a way that always leaves you wondering. Wondering if it’s just habit. If it’s just for show.

Or if it’s something more.

Not that you’re complaining. Because no matter how much those kisses leave you wanting, they also leave you waiting.

Waiting for something you can’t quite name.

It’s easy. It’s comfortable.

It’s enough.

Or so you think.

One evening, the two of you are having dinner at Onigiri Miya. The scent of fresh rice and seaweed lingers in the air as you pick at your food, laughing at something Osamu said. Kita sits beside you, relaxed as always, his hand gently caressing yours.

Then the door swings open, and Atsumu walks in, loud as ever, with a few MSBY Jackals in tow. Their voices fill the small restaurant, easy grins and playful banter making them impossible to ignore.

Kita steps outside to join Osamu, leaving you inside for a moment.

That’s when one of the MSBY players slides into the empty seat across from you, flashing a charming grin. “Didn’t think I’d see a woman this pretty around here.”

You glance up, amused. “Is that a pickup line?”

He shrugs, undeterred. “Depends. Is it working?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. He’s harmless, just being friendly, but before he can push further, you lift your left hand slightly. The silver band on your ring finger glinting under the restaurant lights.

“Sorry,” you say lightly. “I’m married.”

The shift is instant. He exhales a short laugh, hands raised in surrender. “Damn. Lucky guy.”

Through the restaurant window, Kita watches.

He watches the way you smile, the way you casually hold up your hand, the way the man across from you takes a second too long to look away.

And for the first time, something unfamiliar stirs inside him.

He’s never thought much about the nature of your relationship before. You are his best friend, his wife in name, his partner in a quiet, unspoken way.

But you are also a beautiful, kind, and capable woman. Someone who could be loved by another man.

You come home to him every weekend, walking up the dirt road to the house with that tired but relieved smile, greeting his grandmother with warmth that never fades. You fit into his life so seamlessly, as if you were always meant to be there.

And Kita realizes what he could lose.

Osamu exhales beside him, dragging out his words. “You look like a man about to do something real dumb.”

Kita ignores him. Maybe it is dumb. Maybe it isn’t. But he’s never been one to hesitate once he’s made up his mind.

So he steps back inside.

You look up as he approaches, something shifting in your expression, as if you can sense the change in him. Kita doesn’t acknowledge the other player—he barely even registers his presence. Instead, he reaches for your hand, his fingers finding yours, warm and familiar.

You blink at him, confused. “Shin?”

“Come outside with me.” His voice is steady, but something in it makes your pulse quicken. You don’t argue, don’t question, just let him lead you out the door and into the quiet night air.

And as the cool breeze brushes against your skin, Kita watches you under the dim glow of the streetlights.

For the first time, he wonders what it would be like if you weren’t his.

And for the first time, he doesn’t want to find out.

So he just goes for it.

“I want us to stay married.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait—what? I’m not divorcing you or anything,” you say, genuinely confused.

Kita lets out a small sigh, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He looks at you, his expression unwavering but… nervous?

“Let's get married.”

You blink. “Shin, we’re already married.”

“Not out of convenience,” he clarifies, his fingers brushing against yours. “For real this time. Because I love you.”

Silence. Your brain short-circuits.

It’s the first time in your entire year of marriage that Kita Shinsuke has said I love you to you directly.

You stare at him, blinking rapidly. “Wait. Hold on. Back up—you love me?”

He nods. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You squint at him. “You sure?”

Kita exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Would I be proposing again if I wasn’t?”

And then, he pulls something from his pocket.

A ring. A makeshift one, out of hay.

You gasp, in mock disbelief. “Again? Shin, why do all your proposals involve farming materials?”

His lips twitch, almost smiling. “Didn’t really plan this one either.”

You snort, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Guess that makes two of us,” he says simply, still holding out the ring.

You bite your lip, pretending to think about it, just to mess with him. “Hmm. I dunno. You haven’t even taken me on a proper honeymoon.”

He deadpans, “You don’t even like traveling.”

“True,” you admit, laughing.

Kita just waits, patient as ever, steady as ever.

You look at him and you thought, how could you say no?

“Of course, yes,” you say, grinning. “For real this time.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you pull him in for a kiss.

And this time, when he kisses you back, with such yearning just like the kiss on your wedding day.

And somehow, the proposal, the kiss, and everything about this moment feels sweeter than the last time.

amari's notes: kita shinsuke is, if nothing, the best husband anyone can ask for. posting this on my birthday and on the last day i'm writing for my turning point event. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke is my farmer husband and i am his office lady wife

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theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter · 4 months ago

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Close Despite the Distance ✈️🌍

Mapi León x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You and Mapi only know each other through online interactions. Despite the miles and the screens, your connection grows stronger every day.

It started as a casual follow on social media. You were a huge fan of football and followed some of your favorite players, Mapi León being one of them. You always admired her from afar, watching her dominate the pitch for Barcelona and Spain. One day, after commenting on one of her posts, you were shocked to receive a reply. It was small—just a quick response thanking you for your support—but it made your heart race.

From there, it became something more. What started as light interactions through comments turned into direct messages. At first, you were hesitant, not expecting much from it. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages became longer, more personal.

Before you knew it, you were talking to Mapi almost every day. What surprised you most was how down-to-earth and genuine she was. It didn’t take long for the connection between you two to deepen beyond football.

"Hey, how was your day?" you type, knowing it's evening in Spain and she’s probably just finished training.

Seconds later, a notification pops up. "Exhausting, but good. Training's been intense lately. How about you? How's work?"

Your job isn't as glamorous as hers, but Mapi always listens intently, asking questions and remembering the small details of your life. You feel seen, understood—something rare, even in the people you see face-to-face every day.

As the conversations flow, you can't help but wonder what it would be like to meet her in person. It's a thought that sneaks up on you more often than you'd like to admit, especially on nights like this, when you're alone, and her messages are the only thing keeping you company.

"I wish I could just hop on a plane and come see you," you type one evening after a particularly long conversation.

"Me too," she responds almost immediately. "But you know how it is. My schedule is insane, and you're all the way across the world. It's not fair."

"I know. But it feels like we've been talking for so long… sometimes it doesn’t even feel real that we've never met."

Mapi sends a voice message instead of typing, her voice warm and comforting, despite the sadness in her tone. "I feel the same way. It’s crazy, right? We've never been in the same room, but sometimes I feel closer to you than anyone else."

You close your eyes, letting her voice wash over you. The feeling is mutual. Despite the miles between you, the connection is undeniable. It's strange how someone you've never met can become such an integral part of your life.

There are days when the distance feels like too much, when the only thing you want is to be able to look her in the eyes without the barrier of a screen. But then there are moments like this—moments when her words are enough to remind you why you keep doing this.

"One day," you say, your fingers hesitating over the keys. "One day we'll meet."

Mapi's response is immediate. "Definitely. It’s not a question of if, just when."

That simple message gives you hope, a flicker of light in a situation that often feels impossible. You don’t know when you'll meet her in person, but you hold onto the idea that it will happen eventually.

For now, you'll continue to make do with the late-night texts, the voice messages, and the video calls. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. And sometimes, real is enough.

pt.2 ; pt.3

#woso x reader #barca x reader #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #fc barca #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #maria leon x reader #maria leon

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ladyxskywalker · 6 months ago

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In Exile

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

after his battle with obi wan, anakin is spared & is instead banished to a remote farm world. there is no darth vader, no suit, no extensive injuries. only inner turmoil. he must find peace & healing. but what he didn't expect, was to find a kind lady there who just wants to be loved & help him.

part two

a choose your own outcome story ! weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter ! hope you enjoy ! 💌

Sunflowers, part one

It is an unusual time of day.

The sky has already become a softened shade of violet, the wind whispering quietly as it passes by - the suns, still felt to be the warmest right before setting.

Anakin looks up towards the haze. It is the later part of Summer on this planet. A forgotten place with no name that he calls home now. His farm, still needing tending to, even though things are sparse and the people are few here.

He keeps to himself often because he likes it that way, burying himself in his work, trying to forget things on repeat. Striking thoughts and vivid memories appearing to him in his headspace, never seeming just to go away.

anakin, this isn't you...

you're going down a path I can not follow...

It’s as if he doesn’t truly want them to disappear. As though he needs to remember, just to keep going in some sick and twisted way.

this isn’t living.

I’m only just existing…

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anakin lets out a calming exhale of breath, standing solemnly amongst the grass, as he becomes lost inside their gentle stream of swaying. It is the only thing he can allow of himself now. Something simple to ground himself in so that he can not feel anymore pain. Those insufferable feelings will happen later. At night, when sleeping is a luxury for him and he isn’t so busy. He doesn’t get much rest these days, consumed by every ounce of remembering. Wishing he could just turn everything off if only he had willed it to be so. To truly be emotionless. A thread of left behind humanity, constantly reeling him back in again.

goodbye, old friend…

may the force be with you…

Anakin scoffs, adjusting his tunic before kneeling down into one of the plant beds, examining the delicate leaves taking shape on his now flowering vegetables. They’ll be ready to harvest very soon - he thinks. Which means, he’ll get to be proud of something for a change. Happy to have watched something grow, even if it had been on the outskirts of nowhere, in the middle of this strange and quiet town...

But then, he starts to think of his unborn children. Feeling as though he’d blown his only chance in life of watching them live, breathe, and thrive in the world. Considering the possibility of being a good father, teaching them what it means to be…

intelligent.

brave.

resourceful.

or even … good.

“I’m none of those things. Not anymore…” he says.

This time, not completely realizing that he’s said something to himself out loud, looking away from his dirt ridden hands to make sure that no one else had been there to notice.

But you had.

You always did. Even when you'd tried not to.

So beautiful, and smiling at him in the last remains of daylight.

Holding a freshly picked bunch of sunflowers in your arms, struggling a bit to hold onto all the stems.

“Here. Let me…”

He begins, brushing the palms of his hands onto the front of his pants, before making his way over to your small patch of land.

I better help her before she loses them all…

don’t need anyone laughing at her.

no one. laughs. at. her…

“Oh…thank you so much Lars, you didn’t have to do that…”

Taking the flowers from her slightly shaken hands, he carefully begins to place them one by one into one of his garden baskets. Forgetting for a moment that he is no longer Vader, and no longer Anakin, either. That Lars is the only name now that he can go by. However misguided. It’s the only thing salvaged from his old life that he can have again.

“Yes I did…better in here than on the ground. Don’t you have one of these things?” he says gruffly, focused on the task at hand.

“I did…”

“What do you mean, you did?”

“Another farmer stole my only basket from me…among other things…they were upset, it was my fault anyway, and…”

“Upset? No matter of disagreement should ever warrant thievery.”

they don’t know the meaning of upset.

stealing from a lady…

really?

“They were angry when I didn’t return their affections. Now he’s trying to sabotage my business. Breaking things, poisoning my rose bushes... Spreading falsehoods about me and my family around the village…”

“Who. Is. He.?”

Anakin pauses deliberately between words, feeling a familiar heat inside himself rising to the surface.

Pointing to a house on the farthest side of town, he recognizes it immediately.

Right opposite the lake.

The man is no farmer.

He's a vagrant fisherman.

Doing his own stretch of time on this desolate unlikely safe haven.

He must have escaped from someplace...

Avoiding a bounty...perhaps.

She's silent now. Perhaps he's frightened her with all of his wordless brooding.

Or...maybe it had something to do with the tightened closing of his fists.

I'm going to kill him.

“Go home. This will all be settled in the morning.”

“Settled…?”

He nods, having a hard time with being gentle. Trying his best to be reassuring.

But then, she smiles, her shoulders falling - relieved, before taking his hand. A metallic wonder resting in the palm of her own. She wishes that he can feel her, but somehow - strangely, she can almost sense that he does there.

“Thank you. I've been so afraid.”

Anakin hums, nodding in understanding.

If only she knew who was standing before her…

would she be in fear of me too here…?

doesn't matter…

But then...

Completely surprising him, she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Waves of unruly hair, almost getting in the way of it...

Leaving him standing there, contemplating a fight to be had in her honor at sunrise the next morning.

…❤️

a/n - thanks so much for reading ! 💫 I've been inspired to write a story again, & what better way to do it than to get everyone involved in the writing process too 😊 this idea has been swirling around in my mind (& drafts folder) for a while now, so it's been really exciting to see it come back to life in a whole new way. each part of the story will be cross posted to ao3, & will be tagged on tumblr with 'sky lady story time 💌' hope you enjoyed this first installment ! I'm excited to see what you guys want to see happen next 🌼☕📖 xo A

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #sky lady story time 💌#sky lady writes #choose your outcome #post rots au

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stopaskinf · 2 months ago

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Sexy/Romantic things BTS men do:

Genre: FLUFF‼️‼️‼️These bitches are WHIPPED, GN! Reader for the most part

CW: None really

A/N: I really just be on here huh. I had this idea awhile back , and I’ve finally gotten around to posting it. Hope yall enjoy ✌🏾

———————————————————————————

Yoongi & V: Stares at you intently

There lies a man absolutely entranced by you. He stares so hard that it could burn your skin. He’s examined you so closely that he could tell you every detail of yourself. How your brows furrow and your lips pout whenever you can’t find the word for something. Your lips curve into a smirk whenever you say your “s” . Your upper canines peak out mid sentence whenever you rant like a mad dog; meanwhile your hands make grand, sweeping gestures that make everything you say seem like a grand adventure. When you inevitably catch them in their unsubtle act, they continue staring. After all, they would never wanna look at anything else.

Jhope, Jin(?): Buys you things

Mr. Moneybags. He has money just for you to spend. A man who will want for nothing, but will serve the world to you with a gold leaf. Luxury restaurants with names neither of you can pronounce. Shoes painted crimson on the sole with ruby rings to match. Nothing is out of your reach with him.

Namjoon, Tae, Jungkook: holds your hand and rubs his thumb on your knuckles

Comfort exists solely within this man. Soft hands with only slight calluses that hold yours in a featherlight grip. His thumb rubs over your knuckles in small circles and figure eights. He’s hardly aware that he’s doing it. He’s ingrained it within himself to be your haven.

Namjoon, Jimin: Text you things that remind him of you

Frogs. Lilies. Marigolds. Daisies. Bright red mushrooms with dots. Poems addressed to a long-ago lover. TikToks with love confessions playing in the background. Slow ballads soothe you with their lavender voice and adoring lyrics. Events for things you’re interested in. A photo of you asleep on his chest he took of you last night. A stranger’s poodle called Pepper. Knitted cardigans covered with embroidered stars and moons. The moon standing next to the sun during a pink sunset. A small Polaroid of you smiling that he found lying in the back of his studio. These things fill his camera roll until he inevitably sends them to you. He needs you to know that he always thinks of you.

Namjoon, Yoongi: Send you paragraphs and poems

“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

“Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life”

Sentences strung together by loose words and ends in the late nights when he has you on his mind. A painful yearning that existed before you that you dissipated with your being; though it comes back stronger when you leave. Love poems written by him or long dead writers to help him release his emotions. His devotion towards you needs to be known by you in simple language and consciousness. If not, he’ll ruin himself.

Namjoon, Jungkook, Tae: Always has his body facing you

A physical sign of devotion. “My attention is always on you” Head slightly tilted to better catch a glimpse at you, shoulders and back slightly slouched in a relaxed position, his feet facing towards you; his eyes half lidded as his pupils bounce from your eyes, lips, and nose. He tries his best to keep his hands steady, lest he grabs you. He could be in a room full of people and there would be no mistake as to who he’s looking at.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Tae: Asks if he can kiss you

Consent king.

“Can I kiss you?”

Simple. Straightforward. Nerve wrecking. A small question that holds so much vulnerability and weight. Displaying his need to communicate his scorching love through his flesh, but wishing death on himself before he makes you uncomfortable.

“Only if you want to.”

A sign that he’ll put any desire back if you don’t reciprocate it. You’re the only one controlling his world; he won’t forsake you.

Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Tae: Answers your texts right away

He’s never been a bad texter, but there is no wait when it comes to you. The thought of making you wait for anything has never entered his mind. He knows how doubt and anxiety can cripple the mind. He does his best to ensure you don’t have to face that with him. Texts sent a minute ago will get a reply in seconds. He’ll never keep you waiting.

Tae, Jungkook: lays his head on top of yours

His warm embrace. Long arms wrapped around you tightly as if he lets go for a moment you’ll vanish like a sweet dream. Your sweet scent mixed in with his cologne, cigarette smoke, and natural musk. Your face is in the crook of his neck; your nose and long lashes tickle his nape. He feels your hot breath warm his skin, but hates how his face feels detached. His eyes can’t bear to look at the wall ahead of him when he has you. He lays his head down into your hair, smelling the crown of your hair; he closes his eyes and snuggles further into your locs. If he could, he’d crawl into your skin and never leave its warm, suffocating embrace; however, laying his head on yours will do for now.

Yoongi, Namjoon, jhope: gives you stuff

Gift-giving couldn’t be considered his first love language; although, he can’t help but attend to you. Old books covered with dog tags, highlighted passages, and small handwritten notes. A beaded bracelet he made on live. A whale-shaped cutting board that you can’t bring yourself to use out of fear of damaging it. All things he gives to show how much he thinks of you.

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withleeknow · 1 year ago

Text

wishful thinking. (01)

chapter one: flutter

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › series masterpost › taglist › ko-fi

Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas

“Minho.”

“Hmm?”

“Get off of me.”

He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”

“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.

One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.

And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.

“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”

He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.

“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”

You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.

Yet?

Yet.

“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”

Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”

“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”

You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.

You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.

Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.

His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”

“Knows what?” you ask.

“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”

You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.

No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.

Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone.

It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.

But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.

If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan.

You were good friends before your thing started.

You had a friendship. You had something to lose.

You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.

It just happened.

One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.

He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.

Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.

Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.

You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.

You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.

Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.

“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.

“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”

You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”

“I don’t have you saved as your name.”

“Then what do you have me saved as?”

Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.

Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”

“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”

“But I have a right-”

“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.

“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.

You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”

Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout.

“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”

“Don’t you have your finals too?”

“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”

“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”

“Already sent in my applications.”

“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”

You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.

Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.

“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”

“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”

A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.

“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.

“I’m just not interested in her.”

“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”

Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.

Are you being a hypocrite?

Yeah, probably.

He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.

Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.

It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.

As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.

You’ve never belonged to him either.

Neither of you owes the other anything at all.

You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…

“It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”

“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”

“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.

But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.

“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”

He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”

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f4iry-bell · 2 months ago

Text

WISHING ON GRAPES

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson's car stopped at a random party where he meets reader.

taglist: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @cassie6392 @objectinthemiracle @stargirl0479

a/n: hey guys!!! I'm sorry i haven't posted in a while 😭. I'll try to post all the reqs soon, and happy new year!!!

masterlist

Grayson left the small party that Jameson and Avery threw for new year's eve after 20 minutes. He drove around trying not to think about how it felt for him to just stand there all alone while everyone around him had someone. He couldn't take it anymore, he was happy for his brothers for they have found love but when will it be his time?

He was clueless of where he was going, he just drove around wherever the road led. But after sometime he realised that he was low on my petrol. He was hoping to find a station to pump some but it was too late as his car stopped somewhere he didn't know. He decided it would be better to get out, and call someone to pick him up but his eyes were fixed on the place he was. It looked like an entrance of a garden, decorated with fairy lights. He could hear music coming from the inside. It was obvious that there was a party going on inside. But it wasn't like the party that Avery and Jameson had, this one is filled with strangers. Something had pulled him in, his legs started to march forward.

Once he was inside he was immediately the odd one out like always because of his attire which isn't ideal for a new year's eve party. Ignoring that, he made his way towards a table on which drinks were placed, there was no bartender, no bar. No caterers, or anyone to help. He poured himself a drink, it was a bit foreign to him because how the place is just so simple. He was about to move away from the table but he heard a thud followed by an ‘ouch’, crouching down he pulled the table cloth above to find a girl sitting down there holding a box of what looked like grapes with one hand while rubbing her head with another.

“Are you okay down there?” He asked with a frown.

“Yeah, I didn't spill anything above, did I?” She asked, turning to him.

“No, you're good.” He answered, still so confused. Maybe she's anti-social.

“Okay, cool.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again with a deeper frown. “Pardon me, but why are you sitting under the table?”

She looked at him as if he asked a silly question when she was the one who was sitting under a table at a party. “Box of grapes, 20 minutes until new year, table.” She said that as if it's supposed to make sense.

“I still don't get it.” He admitted.

“Oh my god. Get in here.” She motioned him to get inside.

He didn't move.

“Buddy, you're wasting my time to think about what I want. So get in here, or go away.” Her hand waved inside once more.

Grayson reluctantly got inside, a part of him was curious.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it's a belief that if you eat 12 grapes at midnight on new year's eve you'll find love, happiness, et cetera. You know? Each grape is for each month of the year.” Her eyes were wide with excitement when she explained it.

“You believe that?” He asked. His immediate thought was that this is another silly thing that people came up with to make new year's eve exciting like the kiss.

“Of course! I mean, it's my first time trying, but we'll see. I have extra grapes you know? You can have some.” She offered him.

“I'm good.” He sighed.

“Well, you're no fun. You're already under the table, it's almost midnight, you have grapes—”

“I don't have grapes.”

“I'm offering you grapes.”

“I don't want it.”

“Just try.”

“Why?”

“Because! Nevermind, stay a loser then.”

Grayson scowled. “Just because I'm not participating in a silly tradition, doesn't mean I'm a loser.”

“It won't hurt you to eat grapes, you know?”

“Fine, I'll have them.”

“YES!!”

He scoffed at her excitement. Before either of them could fill in the awkward silence they heard people counting numbers in descending order from 10.

“It's time!!” She shook the box of grapes.

Grayson couldn't have imagined anything that happened within the last 30 minutes, his car stopping right in front of this party, him finding this strange girl under the table, accepting her grape and certainly not pulling her closer when the chant was ‘5’ and kissing her at ‘1’.

It was unexpected, it was like his body was working on its own without telling him.

When he pulled back, he expected her to push him outside, or take back her offer but she opened the box. “Let's eat before it's late!”

He didn't realise that his heart was racing until it calmed down. He smiled, and grabbed one grape from the box to wish.

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #the hawthorne brothers #the grandest game #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #the brothers hawthorne #avery grambs #jameson hawthorne #games untold #glorious rivals #lyra kane

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cyyfics · 1 year ago

Note

I saw your post and wanted to request general dating headcannons for Simon! (Including NSFW headcannons if you don't mind :D )

—————————-

Simon Dating Hc’s

Pairing: !Simon Petrikov X Reader

Warnings: !NSFW content at the end of SFW part

Note: thank you for sending me a request!!! much love to you <3

Double note: IM SORRY ITS SO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY SSKSKSJS

Pronoun stuff: MAINLY gender neutral but there might be some fem coded parts?? With the nsfw stuff there’s fem/gn parts at first and then a diff part for men ^^

And on a third yet different note, a nsfw note: I’m sorry I made simon such a slut!!!!! but also no I’m not hehe

—————

SFW

- when he first meets you he is stricken, immediately getting an interest to you.

- you were already a fan of Simon and his many books that you had read, kicking your feet in bed turning the pages wishing you could some day meet this man.

- that’s when you found out where he was teaching his lectures, and found out that it was actually pretty close to your home town..

- you tried not to dawn over him in person when you actually had finally saw him; taking a seat in the front row and staring at the man with wide eyes while you rested your chin on your left hand.

- you were amazed seeing the few artefacts on the screen in front of you, the lecture only adding to your fanlike obsession over him.

- when the two of you went on your first ‘date’, he couldn’t find himself taking his eyes off of you; your silly antics and your fascination of him couldn’t get him to pull his attention from you.

- he tried to hide his feelings for you for the longest time but when you had finally confessed your heart to him he couldn’t deny you, and so he poured his heart out to you and asked you to be his.

- he was ecstatic when you said yes, immediately taking your hands into his and grinning wide like some kind of mad man, it was sweet. It really was. When he took you into his arms you couldn’t help yourself and kissed him.

- he was shocked of course! he didn’t hate it at all though; he simply pulled you closer and kissed you back. When the two of you pulled away it was like there was stars in your eyes, a small electrical zap shot through you from your clothes rubbing up against his.

-Only confirming for the two of you that there very was much a spark between you two.

- when the two of you started dating after a little while, Simon often found himself spending much more time by you; he would just be chilling in the afternoon on your sofa or he would be beside you wherever you were.

- you’d have to initiate most physical things, kissing him on the cheek when he’s leaned over the kitchen stove making food or wrapping an arm around him on the couch. after a while though he would eventually start doing the same; pulling you close whenever you sat by him and hugging your waist every-time he walked by.

- the two of you were the sweetest couple, finding joy in the little things you two did; enjoying life when you two would be doing laundry together, and enjoying life a little more when you two would be reading and drinking tea besides each other.

- when you’re tired he likes to have you lay in his arms, so he can hold you and lull you to sleep. when he does that though he often finds himself dozing off too not long after, the presence of you making him feel so fuzzy so sleepy that he eventually just falls asleep too.

- he likes to kiss your lips so so much, he will do it every chance he can. wether it’s a passionate kiss or just a simple press of lips to lips, he just likes to kiss you. lounging around on the couch in the early mornings? kiss on the lips. working on the garden outside? kiss to the lips, while he’s bringing you a cup of lemonade to help with the hot sun.

- he finds himself doing many things for you without you ever asking him; it will be simple things too, sorting your laundry, changing your bins, cleaning your mirror, he just likes doing stuff for you. And you like doing the same for him occasionally when you’ll iron his clothes or make his bed.

- in the far future after he became ice king, and then became his old self again; you were there with him then too. Let’s say some sort of very magical and unexplainable essence was able to bring you back, maybe some sacrifices were made in doing that but he neither you cared.

- when he became traumatised you tried everything in yourself to help him, lulling him in your loving arms when he found it hard to sleep, comforting him when he had his many problems, talking him through it all and doing all you can.

- he became way more affectionate, scared that some day he’ll lose you again, he will always be by your side wherever you are. He will be clung onto your waist, his arms wrapped around you and pulling you closer to him.

- “s-simon!!!” you laugh and try to pry him away, not making an actual effort as he pulls you in closer. “i love you so much, more than words could ever know.”

—————-

NSFW part starts now

- he initiates it a lot more than you do actually, surprising I know. he will offer to rub your back and then while doing so his hands will start to wander. or he will be sitting with you on the couch or the end of the bed and he will slowly trail his hand that was sitting comfortably on your knee up to your thigh.

- the first time you guys had sex it was very slow and loving, many verbal praises and many physical kisses were given. he found himself immediately becoming obsessed with the way you felt around him, knowing this definitely wouldn’t be the only time he took you like this.

- now though? he will not be as slow. loving? yes. but slow? no. he will have one of your legs over his shoulder as he’s roughly guiding his hips into you, hissing through his teeth as he tells you how much he loves you. he tells you how good he feels as he’s pushing inside.

- you love and live to fuck this man. each time he folds you over like a pretzel you find yourself seeing stars, every golb damn time. he won’t stop until you do. if you’re not all that sensitive it doesn’t matter to him, he doesn’t care how long it takes you to cum. he will be there between your legs in some way or another for hours if he has to. only exception is you ask to stop.

- he loves to finger you, because he likes seeing your eyelashes flutter when he pushes his fingers into you. he likes watching the way your hips squirm around, rolling against his hand greedily looking for that high in you.

- he doesn’t let you. why should he? he will use one hand to roughly grab your hip and keep you in place, his fingers making lewd sounds as the wetness between your thighs coated his hand. he will also be spewing filth into your ear as he does so “you’re taking my fingers so well, you’re doing so good for me my love.” kissing the side of your neck.

- he will fill you up. idc. you go onto birth control specifically so he CAN cum inside you. he’s just so enamoured with the way your pussy clenches and pulses with cum as he pulls out of you, beads of cum often dripping onto the towel below you. towel being put there after sheets were already ruined before hand by his cum.

- he loves your boobs. outside of sex he will still be there resting his head on your tiddies, trying to be inconspicuous as he tries to slowly burry his face in them. he’s not slick, you can see the way his head turns as he’s lying there.

- he will hold you in his lap some days while you’re just resting together or watching some kind of film on tv, and then suddenly one of his hands will snake up your side; his lips pressing against the side of your neck.

- “simon!” you giggle as his hand brushes against your side, pressing yourself back up against him as you know just how easy it is for him to ‘roused up. “y/n, y-you know what that does to me!” and yet he still lets you do it, rocking back up against your clothed hips as he suddenly loses all self respect.

MALE NSFW HC’s

(Some of the hc’s above were GN so this one will be a little shorter sorry! Also to the girls, there’s some down here that’s SORTA gn as well.)

- he loves your chest. idk why he just does, I think it’s the way your heart beats. it’s comforting to him. but he also loves the heat your body gives off, and he likes to rest his head on your chest.

- although. he also likes the way your chest moves when your breath stutters when he’s doing something filthy to you, maybe kissing your stomach, or kissing you between your thighs, he just loves it.

- i think he’d be a switch, some days he’d wanna be inside of you and some days he’d want you inside him; and on those days he would always be so eager to get down on his knees and take whatever you had to give him.

- when you’d be inside of him he’d just act like the sweetest little thing, whining on the mattress underneath you with one hand grabbing at the sheets. “m-more!” he’d be greedy too. “you want more, darling? I’ll give you more.” and you do. and when you do he just gives this amazing blissed out look, his cock twitching and leaking cum onto the bed beneath you.

- but when he’s in you? he’s like some kind of pervert honestly, the way he stares at your ass the whole time. and if he’s taking you in missionary or some kind of position where you’re facing him? his eyes will not leave your face, and he will take notice of every eye twitch and every halt in your breath as he brings you pleasure.

- bloody pervert I tell you. tell me right now that he wouldn’t purposefully rub up against you while you’re doing mundane things. tell me. that’s right, you can’t. he can barely even sit in your lap without thoughts of ‘should I move my hips back a little?’ and ‘I’m gonna shift around a little..’

- he will jerk you off, he loves it, he lives for it. he will pull you into a heated kiss as his hand is down below getting you off, stroking you up and down as he sticks his tongue into your mouth.

- he loves lapping up your cum, he will do slutty things to get to eat your cum. if you cum onto your stomach, he will lean down and lick it off while looking into your eyes. cum on his hand while he’s stroking you off? he’s making a desperate fool of himself and licking it off.

#fionna and cake smut #fionna and cake x reader smut #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake #simon petrikov smut #simon petrikov x reader smut #simon petrikov x reader #simon petrikov #adventure time smut #adventure time x reader smut #smut #ice king #ice king x reader #ice king smut #ice king x reader smut #headcanon #anon answered #anon request

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messedupfan · 2 months ago

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Chapter 24

Summary: Billy and Tommy are celebrating their 12th birthday.

A/n: Hellooooooo! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. It's been a ROUGH few months. But through it, I've been able to write a bit when I can. I've also fallen behind on a few episodes of Everything Is Fanfiction. I'm working on getting them out soon, just beware, they were meant to be posted in October/November. But November was so disappointing I needed a BREAK. Haha. Anyway, hope y'all are well. Enjoy!

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“The kids told me that Y/n is going to be at their birthday party,” Vision says as he leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His facial features are contorted into what he assumes is a threatening expression. Once upon a time, his expression did cause Wanda’s stomach to twist in knots and her body to tense up so tightly it was as if she'd turned to stone. But now, all she sees is a man child. Just a boy throwing another fit because he can't have what he wants. She is no longer afraid of his glare and she has to refrain from grinning at the realization.

Wanda is picking up her boys since it's her week with them. She got caught in this conversation because she was left waiting for Tommy and Billy to say their goodbyes to their younger siblings. They love Vin and Viv wholeheartedly and they feel guilty every time they leave. Even more so because of the relief and safety they feel when they are with their mom. Something they don't know if their siblings will ever feel since Vin and Viv live full time with their father.

“Y/n will be there with Rachel, their daughter. A lot of parents will be there with their children,” Wanda says with a small shrug. She's trying her best to hide her annoyance over the fact that Vision continues to have this insecurity towards you. As if you're going to replace him in his role as a parent. Of course part of Wanda wishes it could be as simple as that. But she won't ever admit that in order to protect her kids.

“Well I won't be there if they slash them is going to be there,” he states firmly. “I'm the boy's father, so I have to be there.”

Once again, Wanda has to refrain from laughing. “Vis, you're not even invited. We agreed to do separate birthday celebrations when we got divorced,” she pauses as a fact pops in her mind. “Actually, it's written in our custody agreement. I just haven't held you responsible until now because I was trying to keep you from disappointing the boys at least on their birthday. So, you better think of something for your Saturday with them because I'm not letting you piggyback off of me anymore.”

Vision opens his mouth to say something but Tommy and Billy are dashing by as they race each other to the car to try and beat the other out for the front seat. Now that they're getting older, they're getting taller. Wanda can't keep them from fighting over the front seat the way she used to. She doesn't give Vision another second as she follows the boys, who are shoving each other, to the car. Billy is claiming that Tommy cheated and Tommy claiming that Billy is just too slow.

“Boys! No one gets the front seat!” Wanda shouts as she pulls them apart. “Both of you, get to the back!” She demands and they both scoff and sigh as they crawl into the backseat. As Wanda starts the car the boys start to argue over who gets to be in charge of the music.

“Mom, tell Tommy it's my turn! He played his music last time!” Billy shouts from the backseat.

“No, that was at dad's house that doesn't count!” Tommy defends.

“It does too!” Billy fires back. “I'm tired of your music! It sucks!”

“No it doesn't! My music is cool! Your music is for fags!” Tommy says the word a little too harshly. Wanda is shocked to hear Tommy say such a thing but knowing her ex-husband, it was only a matter of time.

Wanda looks back through the rear view mirror to see that they're still fighting each other. “Hey!” She demands their attention. “Because of that, no one gets to play their music. I'm very disappointed to hear you say such a thing like that Tommy. We do not use that kind of hateful language,” she states strongly to get them to stop fighting and hopefully to get Tommy to never say that word again.

Many Years Ago

“Ugh he's so gross,” Crystalia says as she watches Professor Stark pass by while he's in mid conversation with another faculty member.

Wanda is taking a bite of her food as she hides a nervous chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the rumors going around about him sleeping with students,” she says as she leans in close and speaks in a low tone. Wanda nearly chokes on her food.

“What? What are you talking about?” She wipes the corners of her lips as she feels Vision’s eyes on her. She subtly shakes her head in hopes that he'll stop looking her way. He looks ahead of him as he continues to walk and talk with his colleague.

“You haven't heard?” Crystalia says as though it's something that everyone on campus is talking about. Wanda shakes her head. “Oh my goodness! Okay. So. Apparently his TA saw a student go into the professor's office and a few minutes later he heard a bunch of moans from both of them. He isn't sure if he should turn him in because he really needs the scholarship that the professor helped him get. But he’s worried about the students' safety. I mean how gross. Professor Stark is in a position of power. I feel bad for whoever the poor girl is.”

Crystalia’s words begin to fade away as Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was certain they were super careful about what they were doing. She knew she shouldn't have met him in his office. It was a bad idea from the beginning. She cannot believe she let him talk her into it. But he really wanted to try being intimate in his office because the idea was thrilling. She couldn't deny that it was thrilling, she had never been so terrified and turned on at the same time at the idea of being caught. But knowing that his teaching assistant did catch them has her stomach doing somersaults. She has to push her plate of sushi away from her because she's too nauseous to eat anymore.

“Are you okay?” Crystalia asks with concern.

Wanda nods, “Yeah, yeah, I'm just, I'm not sure that the sushi is good is all.” She puts on a fake smile as her mind continues to race with what could happen to her if the teaching assistant were to turn them in. What it could do to her reputation of being known as a girl who screws the professors. It wouldn't matter that he's the only professor that she's been with or that she wasn't his student anymore and hasn't been for a year. It won't matter that they've been in a relationship that was beyond the physical. She would be ruined if anyone found out the student was her.

She knows she should have never started seeing him in the first place. She knew it was against the rules. But she couldn't help herself. It started off as fun and now it's too late to stop. She's so in love with him that she can't imagine life without him.

Present Day

A couple of days later, Wanda is sitting on her back porch and watching you lift the finished furniture that you'd made. Taking it from the backyard all the way to the driveway. She licks her lips as her eyes follow your every move, noticing the way your muscles flex as you hoist the chair up. She was starving for your touch again. With the kids' starting middle school and both of you having work piling up, neither of you have been able to find time to spend together. Not since the night the two of you slept together.

Neither of you really got to enjoy the moments after because shortly after the two of you finished she received a phone call from a nearby hospital. Her mother had fallen and broken her wrist. Wanda rushed to her mother's aid as soon as she was dressed and you drove her to the hospital. Her mother played the injury off as if it was nothing but the doctor stated otherwise. So, Wanda had her mom move in with her for the time being so that she could look after her mother.

You drove them back to Wanda's once the mother was released from the hospital. It was hard to deny anything going on between the two of you in the disheveled state you and Wanda were in. Not to mention how late into the night it was that the two of you were together. Her mom didn't ask any questions. She simply smiled and squeezed your arm. A silent approval in a sense.

Then you and Wanda said goodnight to each other because she thought it would be best for you to go home. You agreed as you figured the focus needed to be on her mother's health and not Wanda and yours relationship status. Thankfully, her mom hasn't been pressing her for details of your relationship with Wanda but she has been making comments. “You look happier,” she'll say as she sips coffee. “There’s a glow about you,” she'll say as she walks by the home office. “I think you’re doing the right thing,” she whispered once while the four of them were watching a movie about a blended family. “If you want to have someone over or go out, feel free. Don't let me stop you,” she stated on a Friday night when Wanda didn't have the kids and added a wink when Wanda gave her mother a funny look.

“Wow, Y/n made those all on their own?” Ms. Maximoff says as she sits next to her daughter while she sips her coffee. “They must have talented… hands.”

Wanda's eyes widen as she sits up, “Mom!” She scolds softly. “Stop,” she turns around to make sure her boys aren't within ear shot. “Just, please, the kids can't know. Not yet okay? So please, stop with the comments.”

Ms. Maximoff rolls her eyes and sets her mug on the table in front of them. “I was just paying your friend a compliment. You don't need to get flustered over nothing. I did not raise you to have a filthy mind.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Oh please mother, who are you trying to fool?”

“Okay, I won't say anything anymore. I just,” she looks around and notices that you and the kids are nowhere to be seen. Noting that they're alone. Even so, she leans in close to her daughter and asks, “Is this a secret because it's far from being serious?”

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she contemplates a simple answer. After a moment she starts to shake her head. “We're taking it slow. We're getting to know each other and figuring out if there is a future here. We're also protecting our kids.”

Her mother nods and places a hand atop her own. She gives her a light squeeze. “How do you feel about them?” she asks in a soft motherly tone that strikes a chord in Wanda.

The woman grows emotional. Tears spring to the brim of her eyes and threaten to fall as a lump forms in her throat. She takes a shaky breath to calm down. “I'm in love and I'm scared that I'm going to mess it up. I'm scared that I'm not seeing something majorly wrong with Y/n and it'll ruin my life when it comes out. I'm so happy and secure yet I'm so terrified that my instincts are wrong.”

Ms. Maximoff nods and moves her hand further up on Wanda's arm. “Vision did quite a number on you, didn't he?” She asks and Wanda looks away. She often avoids talking about her former marriage to her mother because she doesn't want her mom to think that she failed as a mother.

“Mom, please,” Wanda wipes her eyes and clears her throat.

“Honey, I'm only,” Ms. Maximoff doesn't get to continue because you are opening the back door, startling both of the women.

“Hey, I just wanted to warn you that I have to deliver the orders to the post office,” you say as you fail to notice the vulnerable state that Wanda is in. “Do you mind if Rachel stays behind, I'll only be a couple of,” your words fall as Wanda breathes through her stuffed nose, giving away her current state. You crouch near her to get a good look at her. You put one hand on her shoulder and your other gently takes her hand. “What's wrong, Wanda?”

Wanda shakes her head and clears her throat as she forces a smile. Her body responds to your touch, releasing the tension that was building from the conversation with her mother. “Nothing, nothing. It's only allergies,” she tries to lie and you tilt your head as you catch her eyes to make contact. When she finally surrenders and gazes into your eyes you have a nonverbal conversation hoping she will open up without having to verbalize her emotions. She tells you that she is fine and you nod as you accept her answer. You gently wipe a tear that has escaped before you stand up and let go of her.

“I need to drop off the furniture at the post office. Rachel isn't ready to leave yet, do you mind if I leave her here for a bit? I'll bring dinner for everyone on my way back,” you ask as you look at her carefully. Still concerned about how she is feeling.

Wanda takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, it's no big deal. I'm sure they're all distracted with a video game or something. I'll be here to keep them alive otherwise.” You laugh at her statement and thank her as you step away.

“How's the wrist Ms. Maximoff?” You ask as you step closer to her. She smiles and tells you that she's never been better. You give her a half hug goodbye and tell the ladies that you'll see them in a bit.

Ms. Maximoff looks at her daughter once you're gone and she smiles. “Honey, you have nothing to worry about.” Her confidence in her statement startles Wanda. Her mother had never been so approving of a partner that she's had. It felt different to have this kind of approval from her mom. At one point in her life, she could care less if her mom approved or not. But she didn't realize how much energy it took to be constantly defending her decisions. It overwhelms her once again. She fears how easy all of this is and she isn't certain that she can believe that this is real.

Many Years Ago

Wanda paces the bedroom nervously. She couldn't believe that she was in this situation again. She doesn't believe she'll be lucky a second time. What is she going to tell people? What is she going to tell her parents?

“It's not that bad,” Vision says as he stops Wanda in her tracks. Her pacing was irritating him but he is doing his best to remain steady, for her. “This can be a good thing. You won't need to worry about graduating or what kind of job you need to get. I can take care of us. I can take care of our family.” He puts his hand on her belly. Wanda melts into his touch as her eyes focus on his hand. There could be a baby growing inside. A baby that will change her life. But she doesn't want to fall into the trope. She refuses to give up her dreams of her career just because she had gotten pregnant by a man with means to care for her. She won't be seen as a gold digger. She won't have people believing that she trapped him into marrying her. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. She shakes her head.

“No, I still want to work. I would never expect you to take care of our family on your own,” she says softly. Vision's features twitch slightly but he doesn't react too much. He nods and pulls her into a tight embrace. That was not his plan. He wanted a stay at home wife, not a career woman. But he had to be careful. He knew that he could convince her eventually. When she would inevitably get stressed, he knew he could point out that it's not healthy for the baby. He knew that when she couldn't keep up with the housework and the baby and work that he could tell her to quit her job. He just had to be patient. In the end, Vision always got what he wanted.

“Okay, just know that you have the option. You might feel different later on and that's okay,” he says as he strokes her hair. Doing his best to sound supportive.

Wanda grows emotional as she clutches his shirt. “I'm scared, Vis. I don't think I'm ready,” she admits against his chest with a shaky tone.

Present Day

That Friday you arrive at her house an hour before the party is supposed to start so that you can help her decorate and set up. She is grateful for the help but she acts a bit standoffish. Since her conversation with her mom about her relationship with you, she has been spiraling. She skipped her therapy session because she wanted to see if she could manage her emotions on her own but unfortunately that only left her to be shut off from the world.

You could sense that something was off about her but you couldn't ask about it because part of you knew it was something that needed time and care and couldn't be solved in a brief conversation. So you did your best to be helpful and out of the way.

As the party began and parents and their children began to arrive, you noticed Wanda begin to perk up. But something still felt off about her. You tried not to linger around her too much. You stay with Pietro for some time. Chatting about how exciting it is to be done with one building and starting construction on another. The conversation moves to him asking you questions about your small business and how that's going.

Later on you're talking with Carol and Val about their wedding plans and you get excited about their ideas for their wedding and offer to build them an arbor as a gift. They try to shut you down and offer to pay but you convince them otherwise. Insisting that it's the only gift idea that you can actually pull off successfully.

Wanda’s gaze wanders over to you every now and then. She watches you laugh and engage with her friends and family. She watches you play with the kids when they start running around you. She doesn't want to, but she can't help but compare you to her ex husband. How he would have only paid attention to who he deemed the prettiest woman at the event. Even or especially if she was married. How if the kids came up to him, he would brush them off and tell them to go play with other kids. And when he remarried, the only reason he would talk to people was to show off his new wife.

Eventually you catch on to Wanda staring at you and you relax a little. You casually walk towards her and tip your head towards the stairs. Inviting her for a private conversation. She subtly nods and you make your way up the stairs without anyone noticing.

For Wanda, it isn't as easy. She has friends come up to her. She has a kid that's never been to the house before asking where the bathroom is. She is pulled every which way until finally, her mom steps in to get her out of conversations and helping others.

It takes her roughly thirty minutes to join you upstairs in her bedroom. She finds you sitting at the edge of her bed, patiently waiting.

“Hey,” she says in a soft tone as she enters the room. Carefully shutting the door behind her so that it doesn't draw any attention.

You perk up and sit up with a warm smile. “Hey you,” you greet her. “Are you doing okay?” You ask as she sits next to you with a deep sigh. She lays her head on your shoulder and you grow worried again.

“It's hard to talk about with you because it's about us and you. But it's mostly about me. I don't want to hurt you or scare you,” she tries to explain her complicated feelings that she is struggling to voice. You nod and take her hand in yours to provide her some comfort as you listen to her.

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?” You ask as you rub your thumb on the back of her hand. She nods her head. The fact that this is still bothering her tells you that this isn't something that can be solved in an hour session with her therapist. “What about with your mom?” You ask in order to understand her a bit better.

“I have, somewhat. She's very encouraging of you, by the way. I wouldn't be surprised if she has started a Pinterest board for our wedding.” She jokes as she starts to move her fingers. You huff out a breathy laugh at the idea. You tilt your head to lean against hers.

“Alright, well none of your friends know about us. So I believe that leaves me as your only option,” you keep your tone light, not wanting her to think you're making a joke of her dilemmas, but still trying to cheer her up a bit. “Look, I want you to be able to come to me about anything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be for the both of us. But I'm not going to pressure you into talking to me if you're not ready to do that yet. That's part of taking it slow. We're gaining each other's trust in order to have difficult conversations.”

Wanda stops moving her fingers and wraps her hand around yours to give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you,” she says. You squeeze back and kiss the top of her head.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggest. Wanda nods and rises. She looks down at you, finally looking at you for the first time since she walked in. She doesn't see any anger or frustration in your expression. She only sees love and concern. She couldn't express herself to her ex-husband without him appearing annoyed or upset in some way.

Wanda surprises you with a soft chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you,” she whispers.

You smile and kiss her again. “I love you,” you say before letting go of your hand. You step out of her room first and rush to get away from the area without anyone noticing. Then Wanda rejoins the party a couple of minutes later.

Many Years Ago

“Wanda, I thought you were mature enough to handle this!” Vision shouts at her. They were celebrating his birthday but with that, came his favorite foods that were triggers for Wanda’s morning sickness. She had to run out of the room as soon as he brought the food out. The retching sounds disgusted him. Vision could hardly stand it.

Since Wanda was a great student and had enough credits to graduate early which she opted to do because she didn't want to have to answer too many questions about her pregnancy. It upset Vision because he expected her to simply drop out. He got scared and as though his plan was falling apart. Then she agreed to wait on getting a job until the baby could be put in daycare. It was a huge relief for him.

The two moved in together shortly after she completed her final class. Since she was no longer a student, she gave up her dorm room. It was a major adjustment for the couple. They were not very compatible as cohabitants. She wasn't as neat as he expected her to be. She was exhausted from the pregnancy and it was hard for her to pick up after the both of them. Vision got upset every time he had to clean his own messes that he expected her to clean up before he returned. But he thought he was able to keep his cool.

Wanda is in tears as he snaps at her yet again. She doesn't understand what she is doing wrong. This pregnancy is hard on her. She's nauseous much longer in the day than the morning. She isn't able to keep fit the way Vision keeps asking her to be. Nothing feels comfortable to wear. She can't go anywhere anymore.

“I'm sorry Vis,” Wanda says through her tears. “The boys are just-”

“What did you say?” Vision’s tone shifts into one of shock.

“I-I-I shoot! I ruined the… hold on,” Wanda walks away to grab one of the presents she bought to surprise him. It was a T-shirt with the ultrasound of the twin boys she was carrying. The shirt said “Boy Dad” along the top of the ultrasound image. She hands him the gift and as he opens it she explains, “At my last appointment I found out that we're having twins. And they're both boys.” She wipes her tears as she watches Vision for his reaction.

“We're having two boys?” He gasps, stunned by the news. Then he looks at Wanda with a wide grin. “We're having boys!” He envelopes her in a big hug to hold her close and kisses her in celebration.

Present Day

“Mom!! Look!” Billy proudly holds one of his presents up as him and Tommy unwrap their presents. The party was over, everyone had gone home except for Pietro and his family. The boys were eager to open their presents as they arrived with the guests but thankfully the other kids distracted them until the party was over.

“Wow! That's a nice present, who is it from?” Wanda asks as she writes down the name of the toy on a notepad. Billy rummages through the gift bag to find a card or tag. He finds a small gift card at the bottom of the bag and hands it to his mom so she can read it. She marks it down.

“Uncle P! Thank you!” Tommy shouts as he pulls out a box with a picture of a drone on it. Wanda shakes her head and groans.

“Why did you get him that? I told you not to,” Wanda sighs.

“Because it's cool!” Pietro cheers.

“It's so cool!” Tommy says with a grin.

Billy gets a saddened look on his face and Pietro notices. He pushes a box of similar size towards his nephew. “Don't think I forgot about you, pal,” he says and Billy lights up as he tears into the wrapping paper. Another drone is revealed as Billy and Pietro cheer. Wanda can't help but imagine all of the ways the boys will get in trouble with the drones. “Happy birthday boys,” Pietro says as his nephews pile on him to thank him with hugs.

Once the mess from the presents is cleaned up and Pietro and his wife have left with their sleeping girls and the new toys are put away, Wanda is tucking her boys into their beds.

“Mom?” Billy asks softly as Wanda smooths the blanket over her boy.

“Yes, Billy,” Wanda asks in a soft tone.

“I'm glad we didn't invite dad today,” he says as he looks down at his hands. “He can be mean sometimes. And he really doesn't like Y/n. We have to lie sometimes so he doesn't get mad that we saw Y/n.”

Wanda takes a deep breath as she smooths Billy's hair down. “I'm sorry that you have to lie to your dad.”

Billy shrugs, “It's okay. I like hanging out with Y/n. They're cool. They never get mad at me when I'm talking and they help me when I have problems. And sometimes when I don't understand some of my school work and they're here, I ask and they will show me so it makes sense.” His eyes get bright as he talks about you to his mom. It warms her heart to know that you're helping her boys with their school work.

“Yeah, they are really good at making things make sense,” Tommy says from his bed. “Dad just says we should know this stuff and walks away. The only thing dad wants to teach us is sports. Which I like but he gets really mad at Billy.”

Wanda looks between her boys, paying attention to the one that is speaking each time. As she hears about how her ex-husband treats their kids she shakes her head and mentally curses him out. He always claimed their kids would be smart because they were his kids. They are smart kids, but they both struggle with school work. It's not their fault, it can get confusing and sometimes they just need it to be explained in a different way in order for them to really grasp the subject. She knows this and so does Vision. But Vision is a lazy parent in this aspect. He believes that whatever explanation the teacher gave is all the boys need in order to get their homework and school work done. And because he teaches all day at the college, he refuses to come home and have to teach again. Which meant Wanda was left to do it on her own and is one of her biggest concerns when her boys go to his house because she's not there to help them with their homework.

“Is that true?” Wanda looks down at Billy again. Her son nods with a frown and scratches his nose.

“Yeah, I don't like sports. I like dancing and I even want to try out for the school play this year. But dad said no. I have to stick with sports,” he sighs, his expression of disappointment squeezing Wanda's heart.

“Don't worry about him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Okay?” She says as he combs her fingers through his hair. Billy smiles a little as he looks up at his mom.

“You're the best mom ever. Did you know that?” Billy says sweetly. Wanda smiles down at her boy. Right now she feels like the worst mom for having chosen Vision to be their father. But she can't go back in time and change that because then she wouldn't have Billy and Tommy. She can't imagine life without them.

“Alright boys, get some rest. I'm sure your father has something planned for your birthday tomorrow,” she says as she gives them each one last kiss on their foreheads. As she is about to leave the room, she stops at the light switch. “I love you both. Happy birthday,” she smiles and flips the switch and closes the door before heading to bed.

Twelve Years Ago

Wanda is lying in the hospital bed, sweaty and exhausted. She has one of her newborn sons in her arms, her second child is in the arms of his father. She has tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe it. She is a wife and mother. She has a loving husband who hasn't stopped staring at the baby in his arms since the moment he picked him up.

“They're perfect,” Wanda whispers.

“Of course they are. They came from us,” he says happily. His eyes never leave the baby in his arms. He can’t stop gazing at his boy. His first born son. “You are perfect Billy,” he whispers to the baby. He chose the name William after William Shakespeare because it's a well recognized name. One day he hopes that William Vison Stark is just as recognized because he plans to raise him to be one of the most brilliant, powerful and successful men in history. Before, second, or equivalent to his brother Tommy. He was named after Thomas Edison. A great inventor. He hopes that his son gets the Stark genetics in that regard. His family is known to be great inventors. One day his brother, Anthony, will be a thing of the past because his son Thomas Erik Stark will be known as the greatest innovator. He will make certain of it.

Wanda is gazing down at her son Tommy, the baby is kicking slightly and she knows that he was the baby that kicked the most. “I can’t wait to know you,” she whispers. “I promise to protect your hopes and dreams. She smoothes down his tuft of hair and kisses his forehead. She is excited to tell her father her son’s middle name. Since she told him about her pregnancy, he would jokingly ask her that if the baby is a boy, she should name him after her father. Then she revealed that she was having two boys and he said “That’s perfect! One is named Erik, the other Magnus!” Wanda shakes her head at the memory. The remainder of her pregnancy, she spent fighting the men in her life on naming her kids after them. Then Vision came up with a compromise of having their middle names carry on his name and her fathers name.

“We are going to raise great men,” Vision grins at his wife.

Wanda giggles, “Let’s enjoy them as babies while we can.”

“Okay,” he says and leans over to kiss her lips. “I can agree to that. I love you.”

Wanda gives him a sleepy smile, “I love you too.”

Chapter 25

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luvzxr · 2 months ago

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Little Pougie

Thank you for the support on my last post! It means a lot.

I will be starting a warning as I totally forgot to put it on my last post so here we go.

Warnings: Abuse, talk of drug use and alcohol. Possible smut in the future.

And incase you're new and coming across this party check out

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02. Agony

I wake up the next morning in a sea of my own messy sheets. This is exactly how I envisioned my entire summer to go, and I wasn't complaining.

I was able to hear muffled talking on the other end of my door and could only register in my head that it was John B and JJ who seemed to have already started their morning long before I had. I kind of wanted to just slip back into another slumber myself, but I decided against it.

Once I slipped out of my room, they were both slumped up on the couch, deep in conversation but both seemed to halt their words once their attention was drawn to me.

"Good Morning, Pougie."

"Mornin' Little Pouge."

A small, but simple smile creeps up on both of their faces, and I watch as they both sit up to fix their much more horrible posture from moments ago.

"Good morning," I say, placing the palms of my hands over my features to rub out the drowsiness that was still visible.

It's silent between all three of us for a small moment before John B speaks up again.

"(Y/n/n), you scared the hell out of me last night," he sighs.

A part of me wanted to strangle him right then and there, he couldn't have picked a better time to talk about this.

"John B, I'm not a little kid," I say defensively.

"You knew Kooks were around (Y/n/n)," he sighed once again, "you're the only thing I have left of blood family,"

"But I'm nearly sixteen JB," I pout, full-heartedly knowing that sometimes I didn't act like a sixteen year old should.

"Yet you seemed to have forgotten that some of those Kooks would have the balls to follow you home. You could have been severely hurt, Pougie. What would you of done if JJ wasn't the person that came in last night?" I wince, realizing his point. I had no self-defense strategy if the person hadn't been JJ.

"But nothing happened," I say.

"Something could have, Pougie." John B retorts back, his face holding onto a stern expression.

"I'm sorry John B," I say apologetically, And watch as his face softens up.

"Just.." he begins, letting out a slow exhaled breath, "Look for JJ next time to take you back home safely. Especially if I'm being too stubborn to do it myself." JJ raised his hand, two fingers held up lazily to indicate he was willing to do the task at any time.

I nod my head in agreement.

I had no experience of the feeling you have being the older sibling who has to be the one to continue parenting a younger one because neither of you have your parents around anymore. I couldn't imagine the feeling of losing John B but could only imagine the feeling he'd get if he'd lost me under his care.

It wouldn't be so bad if he'd just trust me. But I suppose I haven't done my fair share of giving him the luxury of trusting me either.

Though, sometimes I felt I only was dragging him down when he took it upon himself to make me tag along with him anywhere he went. I felt like I held him back from living the life of an actual teenager and not a parent.

JJ had woken up that same morning in severe agony.

This pain was nowhere near the good kind that you could only wish to experience, the kind that made you feel good about the night prior to getting a lucky hook up and you got to silently pat yourself on the back in the comfort of your own mind. At least then all the pain you would be feeling in that moment was worth it.

This pain was the shitty kind, the kind where you are purposely woken up by none other than your own head practically throbbing and your own body begging you for an extra six hours of pure sleeping bliss. Only then would the pain be tolerable because you couldn't feel it.

There were only bits and pieces that he could make out of the events from last night. Small pieces of his memory, and the rest of him only could hope to regain the other half throughout the day. But that was JJ's morning, every morning.

JJ sat up, slowly. He was fighting every fiber in his body not to let any source of pain-filled groans escape his lips. He leant his elbows on his kneels, tousling up his hair in agitation.

He had returned early back to John B's due to the fact his precious little sister decided to take it upon herself to go home without a warning. The man was absolutely distraught finding the absence of his littler sibling's aura and was frantic to find her. He sent JJ back to his place to see if that's where she'd snuck off to, and she had.

JJ himself often worried about the little pouge but never let that part of him show because to him, the only thing the girl seen him as was her brother's best friend and nothing more to connect himself to her personal life.

He couldn't find it in him to see what others saw and when they tried to show compassion he'd often blow it off. Why would anyone care about a deadbeat? he had nothing going for him other than the acknowledgment that either the pills stashed in the lower compartment of his Gootium would take his life or his liver would finally kick it after one too many drinks.

He stole and pickpocketed when he needed to just to have enough for a burger and he had no way of transportation other than the old beat-up dirtbike he picked out of the trash and fixed up himself. And of course, John B gave him the luxury of using the Twinkie if he needed to.

He sighed, forcing himself to trudge off to the bathroom, and took a good, long look at himself in the mirror.

To some sort of extent, JJ didn't absolutely hate what looked back at him in the mirror. He'd been told numerous times by multiple pouge and then some of kooks that he was good-looking, though most of them ended up in the bedroom with him- tied up in the sheets. And most times, the next mornings would be him finding his belongings and disappearing from their room before they woke up themselves. Nevertheless, it was quite the confidence boost that was well over its deadline.

The thought of (Y/n) trudging home alone last night and a kook picking her up only gave JJ more to put on his well-overstocked plate.

Kooks were pushy and argent, And (Y/n) was a pushover. It doesn't take much to have a pretty, innocent girl like that do whatever you want with just a little push and put a little fear into her to do it.

(Y/n) was the type of girl that if you asked her to do something, she would. She had her quirks, of course and she wasn't experienced in the way most guys wanted but that was all the more reason to have her.

She was a virgin and JJ knew what most guys think when they look at her because he was one and he looked at girls like that all the time. The resemblance of the look an animal gives when they stalk their prey. They were eye-fucking her and it was obvious.

(y/n) was different. He could never look at her and only think of using her for his own sexual enjoyment and that was for obvious reasons. She was his best friend's little sister and John B would probably kick his ass if he knew that his best pal was thinking of completely recking his little sister.

If it was up to him; he'd probably beat the ever loving shit out of most for simply just looking at her in such a way.

She was lucky last night. There were numerous times when JJ had to swoop to her rescue to play stupid knight-in-shining armor and if she hadn't made it home safely he would have had to once again. He would of had to pretend to play the role of a good guy for a good girl.

That thought agitated him.

JJ Maybank was not a good guy. He was born to bus tables, make the money and hand it all over to his father after every paycheck- when it should be the parent busting their ass for a living.

He picked fights whenever he could because it seemed to be the only way of physically feeling something, And he'd take physical over anything emotional.

There was never a moment that he didn't have a busted up lip or a black eye but that never compared to the bruises he left on the other person. Whatever he came back with was ten times worse with what he left.

And when his father asked for a one way ticket out of obx and his life, JJ didn't hesitate. He practically was pushing his own father off the island because he knew he'd be better off. That day was probably in the top ten best moments of his life.

Shaking his head, he opened up the small cabinet above the sink in search for any type of aspirin to dial down this gnarly headache, But once coming up with nothing he let out a long sigh before closing the cabinet shut and stepping back out of the bathroom to head back to (Y/n and John B.

Poor girl got a severe lecture about last night but JJ would be lying if he didn't think she needed it just a little bit for pulling that stunt.

His attention was soon taken for a moment of time when a 'ding' from his phone went off in the left side of his pocket. Slipping out the device he noticed a text message from none other than, Kiara.

Can we talk?

And those three words were all it took to send his mind into a spiral. He began to go into a slight panic, thinking of so many different scenarios that this could go absolutely sideways and completely blow up in his face.

He wouldn't deny that he felt something for Kie, at least in his own mind he wouldn't because if you were to ask him out loud he'd probably sit there and tell you to shut the fuck up and mind your own business or just full on take a swing at you.

JJ despised letting his guard down- hated to know someone knew almost everything about him and had the large opportunity to use that against him- so it was no surprise that as to how much he found himself wanting to pull more away from Kiara.

He didn't want to have a conversation about something he was never good with communicating in the first place, much less try to do so with a girl he had a completely different viewpoint on than most. He'd rather bottle up those emotions and keep a good friendship, at least then there were no extra ties if it falls apart like most things in his life already had.

Maybe another time Kie. I'm gonna be a bit busy with JB today and I got work tomorrow.

Was all he could respond before shutting his phone back off and slipping it back into his pocket, completely ignoring the numerous texts and calls by Kie herself for the entire rest of the day.

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