#always gets me so excited to see a new one i’m borderline checking every day now hhhhh

[thejumbers]

“second chance.”

.

i’ve been WANTING to draw something from the fic for a hot minute but THIS CHAPTER got me so good

@buggachat

[kindahoping4forever]

All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe... And To Love You // Ashton Irwin

I'm back! Thank you to everyone for all the love, encouragement and support while I took a break from writing. Seeing interaction on my old fics here and over on AO3 and hearing the occasional "I'm re-reading your masterlist, can't wait for you to be back" made me feel so appreciated while I was away. I've fought hard mentally and physically to get back to a place where I could create again and without trying to jinx anything, I'm hoping this is the start of a fresh era for me here and I couldn't be happier to be here. As always, I wouldn't be posting this if my bestie @cal-puddies wasn't by my side every step of the way, with both my health struggles and my re-entry into writing. (Speaking of: she's also made her grand return to writing after taking a hiatus for far more exciting reasons - she got her degree! If you haven't yet, check out her new Cal story, He Feels Like Home.)

Warnings: Boyfriend on tour!Ash. Very descriptive depiction of a very enlightening, very touchy yoga and meditation session turning into very enlightening, very touchy, very mindful/borderline tantric sex. Word Count: 5240 Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above, new Taglist coming soon! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

“Give me 15 minutes - if you don’t feel better after 15 minutes, you can quit.”

Sprawled out on the couch of the tour bus lounge area, you stare up at your boyfriend skeptically, watching as he happily fills his tote bag with two waters, two books, and his journal. He pats the pockets of his flowery lounge pants, nodding at the feeling of his lighter and turns to you expectantly.

With a resigned sigh, you weakly protest, “I’m just so tired…"

Ash’s face tightens into a sympathetic frown as he crouches down beside the couch. “I know, baby, but if you wanna beat this jet lag, we’ve gotta give your body clock a chance to adjust,” he reminds you gently, rubbing your back. “You’re smart, love, you know a nap’s just gonna do more harm than good.”

Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t be more excited to finally join Ashton on tour. You knew being separated wasn’t going to be easy but you were somehow surprised at how much - and how quickly - you missed him during the month you spent apart. Reuniting with him overseas has definitely recharged your spirit like you thought it would but unfortunately, your physical self is lagging behind.

“Don’t have to sleep, can just lay here and regroup,” you mumble, your drooping eyes undermining your statement. “Lay with me, talk to me… keep me awake.”

“You and I both know you’ve fallen asleep to my monologuing on more occasions than we could count,” he laughs good-naturedly. He gestures at your oversized tour t-shirt and pajama shorts. “Come on, baby, you’re still wearing what you slept in! Even if you don’t feel like joining my session, getting some sun, changing your environment is gonna do you some good.”

You sigh again, knowing he’s right. It was a travel day and even though you’d only experienced a couple of them so far, you knew enough to know every moment of every stop was a gift. The bus is obviously as comfortable as one could possibly make a bus but being confined to one space, with the same group of people, for hours on end was grueling. 

Having learned from past experience, for this tour, the band requested longer stops be built into their bus routes, giving them the opportunity to take a break from both the bus and each other. While the other guys opted to spend their break shopping or relaxing at a local restaurant, Ashton immediately reached for his yoga mat, declaring the scenic spot where the bus was parked perfect for a quick round of stretching and meditation. It’s not that you disagree with his assessment, the area is gorgeous, but you’re still adjusting to the touring life and were hoping to stay on the bus and sneak in a nap. He lovingly but firmly disagrees, claiming that yoga and meditation will energize and de-stress your body in ways the nap never could.

Since the day you met him, he’d been trying to convince you of the wonders of these practices and since he left, you’d finally started testing the waters, thinking at the very least, it’d give you something to discuss with him on your nightly calls. It’s not something that comes easily to you, you’re not used to being still, your mind always racing a mile a minute. But you have to admit that trying to be more mindful has helped you appreciate aspects of your life you’d been overlooking and has definitely made you feel more grounded and present on days when you felt yourself lost in your mind, missing your partner.

“Come with me,” he says sweetly, pecking your cheek, his light beard pleasantly scratching your skin. He takes your hand in his and pulls you up from the couch, guiding you towards the bus door. The cool blast of fresh air that hits you as you step out is sharp and instantly refreshing; you breathe deep and look around. Would it kill this guy to be wrong sometimes? The landscape surrounding the bus is breathtakingly serene, giant trees and luscious green shrubs everywhere, a sprawling grassy field covered in daisies below your feet and not a single soul in sight. 

You follow him to a partially shaded area, underneath the cover of a massive tree, and smile as he kisses your hand before letting go so he can unroll his mat and set up. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a blanket, spreading it out next to him. He looks back at you, silently asking your opinion and you nod your approval. He gestures for you to sit and you oblige, only momentarily distracted by the sight of him stripping off the t-shirt he was wearing and doing a few basic stretches to loosen up his muscles.

Ash sits cross legged on his mat while you opt for starfishing on your blanket instead. His giggle is as airy as the breeze blowing around you. "Oh, did you want to start with some planking?" He jokes, reaching over to playfully swat you, his hand stinging your skin through your shorts. "Come on, babe, lotus position like me... half if you don’t feel relaxed enough. You know those are easy."

Grumbling, “Easy,” you sit up and fold your legs like he’s recommended. “Should I be feeling better yet?” You tease, squirming as you feel your leg and hip muscles responding to the stretch. You can’t deny that you already feel more alert, thanks to your back sitting straighter and your breathing having deepened, but you’re feeling stubborn so you’re not quite ready to tell him that.

As intuitive as ever, he brushes off your snarky comment and suppresses the urge to make one of his own, instead softly encouraging you, “Great breath work, baby!” His own posture straightens and he settles into his pose before happily instructing you. “Let’s close our eyes and focus on that breathing pattern for about five minutes to start, alright?”

You follow his direction, figuring at this point you don’t have much to lose. You take a deep breath in, making sure to push your belly out, remembering something about activating your diaphragm… did Ash tell you that? No, it must’ve been one of those guided meditations you looked up on YouTube… unless it was on something on that app he gifted you a subscription to? Even with your eyes closed, you feel them roll in exasperation, thinking to yourself how you should really use that app more, he paid for a full year for you and you’ve used it… what? Like five times? You’re on your phone all the time anyways, you have to scroll right by it every day… Jesus… You should set a reminder on your phone to do it every night before bed or something… probably doesn’t make sense to do it until after you get home from tour… but will you remember by then? Should you set a reminder to set a reminder?

A gentle touch to your thigh derails your train of thought and you realize Ashton is quietly saying your name; you open your eyes to see him leaning over onto your blanket, looking a mixture of amused and concerned. “Mind spin out of control a little bit?”

You feel bad for being so bad at this - something he cares enough about to want to share with you - that it actually distracted him. Scrunching up your face, you sheepishly ask, “You could tell?”

He shrugs, squeezing your knee. “I know you.” 

It’s a simple but complex statement. On a different day, exhausted as you are, you might’ve taken it the wrong way, decided he was being presumptive, condescending, preemptively dismissive. But even as he squints in the bright sun, you can see the care and understanding sparkling in his eyes and it makes you feel better for your blunder. You feel that sense of calm you should’ve felt earlier slowly start spreading through your body; you feel relieved, you feel loved, you feel seen.

“Let’s try this,” he says patiently, crossing over fully onto your blanket to sit in front of you. He folds his legs just like before except this time, he scoots in close and rests his thighs on top of yours. You look at him quizzically as he takes your hands in his, placing them on his legs, explaining, “We’re gonna close our eyes and breathe again but this time, I’ll be grounding you.”

“Ash, no, babe, don’t worry about me,” you shake your head adamantly. “I feel bad enough that I was in such a shit mood, I don’t want to keep you from doing what you want to be doing.”

Your objection only makes him squeeze your hands tighter, the look of love on his face softer. “This is what I want to be doing,” he promises. “And those negative feelings you just described? A good reason to try this again, let’s see what we can do about letting those go.”

You sit up straight, trying to copy his posture; this seems important to him, so you figure there’s no harm in humoring him. Like last time, you instinctively start drawing deeper breaths and you hear him match your pattern. You’re able to keep your attention from wandering for longer than before, centering in on the sensations your body is experiencing: the rise and fall of your chest, the tension beginning to leave your shoulders, the crisp air filling your lungs. It’s all going great until you sip in a little too much of the aforementioned crisp air and it quite literally has the opposite effect and takes your breath away. Your chest burns and you can actually feel your muscles tense back up as your mind begins to berate you for your inability to even breathe correctly. 

Ash, of course, notices your distress and calmly directs you, “Concentrate on my body instead of yours. What do you feel right now?”

“Um… your hands?”

“OK, good. What are my hands doing? How is my body relating to your body in the present moment?”

You take a beat to answer, squeezing your eyes shut, putting your all into focusing on your intertwined hands. “Your hands are holding mine. Yours are so much bigger… your fingers are so long, they’re covering most of mine. That feels comforting to me,” you describe carefully. “I feel your left thumb moving back and forth over the back of my hand. It’s the hand you’ve been taping up for shows the past few nights but the blisters are finally starting to feel like calluses… your skin is rough but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable on mine. It just feels like you.”

The smile in his voice is evident as he responds, “That was so good, baby! Tell me more, what’s something else you feel?”

Now that you’ve accessed this present moment thought process, you’re able to easily reply, “The fabric of your pants is cool against my bare legs… soft… but thin enough that I can feel the warmth of your skin underneath them. The weight of your thighs on mine is… really nice. It’s heavy… firm… but the pressure is good. Grounding, like you said you wanted it to be. I like feeling you on me like this.”

“You’re doing great, love,” he encourages you, squeezing your hand before lifting it from his lap and placing it on his chest.

Without prompt, you report, “More warm skin… well… you’re always warm but this is different… warm from the sun.” You move your hand across his pecs. “Hair… not too soft, not too coarse… it feels good underneath my fingers. Again, it just feels like you.”

Ashton adjusts your hand slightly. “Can you feel my heartbeat?” 

“Yes. Steady but not in an intense or pounding way… it’s almost relaxing. Kind of like a lullaby.”

“Do you think yours feel similarly?”

“Well, mine’s usually racing.”

“But is it? How does it feel right now, presently? Feel it with your hand if you need to.”

You keep one hand on his chest and place the other over your own heart. You thought you’d felt slightly more at ease since he came to sit with you but you’re shocked at just how much slower your heart rate is.

He proudly asks, “It’s relaxed, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t even realize it,” you admit.

“Well, baby, it can be hard to tell a difference when you’re used to feeling a certain way,” he explains. “May I feel yours?”

You murmur your agreement and then feel the light presence of his palm above your breast. “Oh, baby, that’s wonderful! You’re almost about where I’m at,” he praises you, happily but quietly, keeping the tranquil environment intact. “Why don’t we have you open your eyes and breathe with me now?”

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust again but when they do, you find Ash wearing an expression filled with serenity and love, just like you pictured he’d be. Silently, you place your hand over his on your chest and he does the same, gently holding your hand over his heart. You slowly inhale at the same time he does, watching his body cue you when to exhale; after a few breaths, you find his rhythm and shift your gaze to meet his. As you’ve been known to do, you feel yourself get lost staring into his eyes, an overwhelming sense of peace flooding your system while your chest rises and falls in sync with his, your heartbeat slowing further to match his.

You’re not sure how much time passes but eventually Ash squeezes your hands, breaks the silence and asks, “How are you feeling?”

You squeeze back, interlacing your fingers. “I feel… better,” you evaluate, enjoying another deep breath before continuing. “More awake, more aware… more… alive?”

The grin that decorates Ashton’s face is as bright and warm as the sun shining down on you. “Yes, baby, that’s great! I’m so glad we were able to find something that worked for you, you did such a great job.”

You can practically feel the glow that spreads through you hearing his praise. “I wouldn’t have kept at it if you hadn’t been so sure it would help and so dedicated to including me,” you insist, raising your intertwined hands to your mouth and kissing his knuckles. “I appreciate it… I appreciate you. I’m so grateful to have such a generous partner.”

He responds with a small “C’mere” and as you scoot closer to him, he pulls you over his still crossed legs and into his lap. He smiles softly at you, his large hands enveloping your face as his thumbs stroke over your cheeks before moving in for a slow, passionate kiss. With your body in its current relaxed state, every movement of his mouth on yours, every brush of his lips, every glide of his tongue feels amplified like never before. He seems to be letting you control the length of the kiss and you can’t get enough of feeling him, your arms wrapping around him, your fingers twisting around the curls at the base of his neck, your heart still in time with his, though understandably a bit faster now.

“I love feeling so close to you, Ash,” you say quietly against his neck, running your hands down his bare back. “Like… physically I feel so much of you right now… but… I don’t know… feeling us breathe together, our hearts beating together… I just feel so connected with you in this moment. It’s everything I didn’t know I was missing while we were separated.”

He shifts you to face him, tracing his fingers through your hair as he looks at you with a loving wistfulness in his eyes. “I know I tried to keep things positive when you would call but… I hope you know how much I missed you,” he says pensively, uncharacteristic sadness creeping into his voice. He hears it too and quickly moves on, clearing his throat before employing a brighter tone. “I think we both needed an experience like this. A chance to just be together again.”

You scratch over his beard affectionately before joining your lips again, pulling him as tightly to your body as you possibly can, murmuring into his mouth as you let yourself once again get caught up in the sensations his body is giving yours. It’s heavenly but you still feel like you can’t get him close enough and you end up letting out a desperate sigh, subtly rolling your hips in his lap, needing more.

The hunger in his kiss tells you that Ashton shares your frustration but as always, he has the perfect solution. He pulls back to study your expression as he presses your hips down further over his crotch and asks, “You need me, baby?”

You know what he’s asking even before you feel his half-hard cock through the thin material of his pants. You nod hurriedly, “Always.” You kiss him again, a little dirtier this time, while his hands find their way to your breasts, loose under your baggy t-shirt. You grind against him slowly to make your point clear. “Want all of you.”

He nibbles at your bottom lip before lifting you off his lap so you can situate yourselves. You shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, tugging your long top over your backside while you watch him take his cock out through his fly, stroking it with one hand while he reaches for you with the other. You climb back over his crossed legs and straddle his lap; he watches, enrapt as your fingers make their way down to massage the head of his cock, eventually replacing his hand with yours, working him to full hardness. His hands once again slip under your shirt, one making a beeline to roll your nipple between his fingers, the other slowly teasing between your legs, the rough skin of his fingertips a tantalizing presence on the tender skin of your inner thighs. He finally reaches your center, looking up to give you a half-lidded, dazed grin when he feels how wet and ready you are for him.

“Fuck, baby… I need you too,” he rasps, rubbing lazy circles on your clit as he draws you into an even lazier kiss.

You lose yourselves in the unhurried, pleasurable work of your lips and hands for a while. This feels nice, this feels good… you know what comes next will feel amazing as well but you’re both fine with enjoying this part for as long as possible. You’re not sure who pulls away first but the kiss breaks and you look into his eyes, nodding at the question you see there. You brace yourself on his shoulders and hold your breath as he drags his cock across your folds a few times before guiding your hips down on him. 

You’re used to breathing through the initial stretch of taking him but this time, you try to tap into that blissful mindfulness from earlier, accompanying your breathing with an intentional focus. It makes all the difference; you feel everything, every curve, every vein, every ridge, you swear you can feel his pulse through his cock as he slowly enters you. You groan each other’s name in unison as he finally bottoms out, your forehead coming to rest against his as you both close your eyes and take a moment to settle.

Ash’s hands knead the backs of your thighs while yours dance across his shoulders, appreciating the heat from the sun shining on his skin, imagining how prominent the freckles on his back must be because of it. You feel his lips peck at yours and you open your eyes to check in with him, warmth flooding through you as you’re instantly met with loving, concerned attention reflected in pools of hazel. 

“Feeling good?” He asks gently, dimples deepening at your eager nod. 

You hook your feet together behind him, pulling him in as close as you possibly can. He senses your need to connect and wraps his arms tightly around you, letting his breathing fall back into pattern with yours. You smile fondly at each other as your stomachs bump together with each exhale, the hair on his happy trail tickling your skin. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, covering the area in soft kisses; you cradle his head, combing your fingers through his hair, loving his attention, loving that he hasn’t tried to get you to move on him yet. You didn’t have to tell him you wanted to take it slow, he just knew.

You take another deep breath, sighing, “Your lips feel so soft on my neck… your tongue so warm, so gentle as you kiss my skin… it’s a nice contrast to your scratchy beard.” You feel him smile against you, followed by a muffled “Sorry” and you quickly reassure him, “Please, babe, you know I love that feeling… can’t get enough… missed it so much being away from you.”

Ashton’s smile grows and he turns to look at you, expression half-proud, half-sheepish. “I know you’re a fan of the beard, so I’ve been trying to let it grow in as much as I can while you’re here.”

Charmed by his simple but significant gesture, you pout and move in for a kiss, rubbing over his scruffy cheeks in appreciation. You pull back and smile, “What’s something you feel in this moment?” 

He closes his eyes and inhales slowly before answering. “Your fingers on my back… you do this thing where you’ll glide up and down once with your fingertips - light, comforting - and then on the next stroke you use more of your nails… it’s still light but it’s more tactile, more satisfying. I love feeling both, feeling one always makes me crave the other.” You mimic the movements he just described, the resulting sigh it elicits swallowed by your lips on his again. 

You kiss him slowly, your hands moving down his back, coming around his waist to massage his love handles before finally coming to rest on his front, fingers swirling through his chest hair. “What else?”

He chuckles against your mouth. “Everything you just did right now… the pinching, the stroking, the grabbing… doesn't matter what kind of touch it is but something about your touch just makes me feel so… loved? I don’t know how to describe it… it just feels really intimate and lovely.”

“I love your body,” you murmur, fingertips tracing over the tattoo on his rib before dancing over the swell of his stomach. “So strong… so soft… so you. It makes me feel safe, it makes me feel pleasure… it comforts me, it cares for me. I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” Ash softly responds, closing the space between you again, his tongue emphasizing his emotions. His hands cover your ass and give it a squeeze; you squirm above him and the two of you moan at the movement. A different, hungrier tone enters his voice as he asks you, "What else do you feel?"

Matching his energy, you let your hands wander further down to reach between your bodies, grazing over where the two of you are joined. “I feel… my favorite sensation of all… being full of you,” you breathe, clenching around him for effect. With closed eyes, you quietly continue, “Don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed at how you feel inside me… filling all of me… fits so perfectly.”

He kisses over your eyes, before slowly rocking you on him, groaning, “Always so wet for me… always take me so well, baby.” He moves you again and your head lulls back at the feeling. “Love watching it disappear inside you… look, baby, look at how incredibly we fit together.”

A whine escapes your throat as your eyes flutter open to see your boyfriend fixated on your lower halves, fascinated by your body enveloping his thick length over and over as he rocks your hips faster; you cast your gaze down to observe as he suggested and whimper loudly at the sight. “Looks as good as it feels,” you comment, voice quivering more than you expected it to.

“Good, baby, good,” he soothes, reaching under your shirt to rub your back, sensing you’re getting overwhelmed. “Breathe with me again, love, focus on what our bodies are saying to each other.”

You do as he says, inhaling deeply, grinning at the sound of your moans blending together as your muscles expand and contract along with your breath. You roll your hips and rush your mouth back towards his again, closing your eyes to concentrate on everything you’re feeling: the wind blowing over your bodies, the way the coolness hits your exposed skin and contrasts with the heat coming from Ashton’s tightening grip on you, the way his palms cup your ass while his fingers eagerly dig into your flesh. Your nipples poking through the thin cotton of your shirt, grazing his bare chest, aching to feel more of him. The delicious resistance you feel from his firm but pillowy thighs as your body moves over them, the way your own legs burn as you pick up the pace of your movements. 

Though you keep your actions slow and deliberate, you feel your heart rate rapidly increasing with your exertion; you don’t want to disrupt the quiet vibe but you can’t get enough of feeling him inside you, you need more. You feel a sharp sting and realize you’re biting down on your lip hard, reacting to the way his cock is hitting just where you need it to. 

Ash recognizes the desperate moan that pours from your throat and you immediately feel his hot breath on your face as he pants, “Yeah, baby… feel it, baby.” He squeezes your ass as he helps you grind down on his length, seeking that final surge of friction you need to push you over the edge. You drop your head against his shoulder, centering in on the feeling of his cock thick and full and relentless inside you, the fire stirring in your core. It builds and spreads until you finally let it consume you and you sigh his name as you begin to lose yourself to it. He keeps you moving as your legs start to shake, one final instruction whispered against your ear, “Eyes on me, baby… let me follow where you’re going.”

You cry out at his request and hurriedly meet his gaze as your walls pulse and flutter around him and you find yourself struck by how extraordinarily intimate and unexpectedly emotional it is to look into his eyes as you come apart for him. Instinct kicks in and you draw a deep grounding breath, wanting to stay present and acknowledge all that you’re feeling for this man; to your surprise, this action both intensifies and prolongs your orgasm and as you feel the next wave crash over you, you grab at Ash’s body - shoulders, chest, arms - anything you can grip, anything you can sink your nails into, anything that’ll bring him somehow even closer to you. You’ve decided that’s all you need.

He moves his hips along with you, quietly breathing your name as the tight, wet heat of your climax overwhelms him; he keeps his eyes on yours until he can’t anymore, falling forward to groan against your neck and spill inside you. You wrap your arms around his broad frame, squeezing tightly, letting yourself appreciate everything in this moment: his pounding pulse under your fingertips, his muscles tensing as he shudders beneath you, the steadiness of his breath, how without even trying, his pattern falls back in line with yours. As he starts to come down, you feel his arms envelop you and the two of you stay locked in a comfortably desperate embrace for several beats; you’re simultaneously present and on another plane, the world around you no longer exists, all you know and need is each other.

Reality inevitably creeps into your bliss in the form of sweaty skin shifting from enticing to clammy underneath the hot sun, tired muscles aching for repositioning and your body losing the fight against gravity and his cum beginning to drip out of you as you move around. With one last slow, mindful kiss, you untangle yourselves and you climb out of his lap.

Ashton grabs his discarded t-shirt and reaches to clean between your quickly stickying thighs. You give him a skeptical look and he deadpans, “You’re the only partner on tour right now, baby, I guarantee this isn’t gonna be the only cum soaked shirt on that bus.”

He giggles loudly at the disgust on your face and you swat at him, laughing at how delighted your reaction made him. “Could’ve just mentioned you’ll be getting a laundry pickup when we get into town tomorrow,” you point out, cackling.

“That too,” he teases, placing a peck on each of your newly dry legs before tossing the shirt aside and leaning back against the blanket, gesturing for you to join him.

You finish slipping your bottoms back on and then you settle into his open arms, snuggling into his side. A million thoughts run through your mind, how you need to thank him for making you get off the bus, for being so patient with you, for wanting the best for you and for knowing you well enough to know you’ll eventually get there on your own, you just need a little encouragement sometimes. But with another deep breath, you let your thoughts pass through your mind like the clouds above you. All that matters right now is living in this pleasure with him.

His chest hair tickles your cheek as you lay against him, enjoying the moment, and you think to yourself how wonderful it is to be so comfortable with a partner that you don’t feel the need to fill the silence. You lean in to peck the coin tattooed on his rib and as soon as your lips make contact, he stirs with a start.

Your jaw drops and you sit up, equally shocked and amused. “After everything you said, were you napping anyways?!”

Ashton’s face turns red, though you’re not sure if it’s from being caught in the act or from how hard he’s laughing. “I wasn’t napping, I was in an advanced resting state,” he insists, trying to pull you back into his arms.

You let yourself fall back against him but keep the incredulous pout on your face. “You think I could get away with that line next time I drift off during one of your stories?” You joke, yelping as he jabs your side.

“Would you rather I just tell you that you wore me the fuck out?”

“Yes, yes I would,” you answer smugly, laughing into the joyful kiss he plants on you.

He smiles at you before sighing, “Should probably start heading to the bus if we wanna get settled, enjoy some peace and quiet before the boys get back.”

“Time for a little more advanced resting?” You tease as he stands up.

Ash pulls you up and into his arms, flirting, “Play your cards right and I might be able to muster the strength for another mindfulness lesson.”

You smirk as his lips close in on yours, “I love working on new skills.”

— PSA: THIS WILL BE THE LAST FIC USING THIS TAG LIST! Stay tuned for a new tag list announcement post soon!

@hoodharlow @mashtonasfuck @pxrxmoore @bxcketbarnes @talkfastromance4 @camelliastreet @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @blacktreacles @maggiesupertramp @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @in-superbloom @2fangirl4u @highstwildflower @t3lkfast @bport76

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.  

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards  the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

[vdlest]

2am knock on my door

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary:

After Tony's death, Cap's disappearance, and end of Thanos, everybody go on separate ways to continue their lives. You became alone. But one rainy night, you heard a knock on your door, only to find Bucky Barnes soaking wet outside your apartment. You soon realized that you're not the only person who feels that kind of sadness and loneliness. That makes the two of you.

Warning:

Nothing that I could think of

It is not a secret that after Tony and Nat's death, Cap's disappearance, and your fight with Thanos, everybody go on their separate ways.

Wanda may have experienced a tough time to accept everything that has happened, but she did anyway. She's somewhere out there, preparing herself for the time that she'll be needed to exercise her powers and strength.

Spider-man kept his promise that he'll always be in the neighborhood. He's a full-time student and a full-time Spider-man at the same time. What a great kid.

The Guardians, of course, they are in the galaxy, doing what they have to do, alongside with Thor. They're doing everything in their power to protect the galaxy from going chaotic again.

Sam, as the new Captain America, is having a mission with Torres as they are tracking down the rest of the Flag Smashers. The ex-Winter Soldier, the White Wolf, James Buchanan Barnes, is doing his amendment to those people who are still on his list.

And here you are, all alone in your two-storey apartment. Waiting for the call of mission, and doing some training on the side with Sam and Bucky, when they're not busy of course.

Everyone check-up on each other from time to time. In fact, everyone's planning to have a Christmas party this coming December, but that's too far to be excited about. It's only May for Christ's sake. They are always reminding you that they are always around, for you, no matter how far they are. But you still feel empty and feel lonely.

Steve's not here anymore to have late night talks and coffee with.

Tony's gone for real.

Nat's not coming back and you got to live with that.

You are just with yourself.

But one rainy night, you heard a knock on your door.

You sleepily checked the time on your alarm clock. It was 2 am. 2 in the freaking morning.

You're not the type of person who invites people at your house, especially at this time. So, you questioned yourself as you get up and grab your robe.

"Who could this human being be?" you groaned as you make your way downstairs.

You are too sleepy to open the lights, so you just reached for the nearest lamp and that served as your light. You walk towards the door and removed all the locks that Sam and Bucky installed for you, for your safety.

As soon as you finished unlocking your door, you opened it.

"Barnes?" your eyes widened as your y/e/c eyes traveled to the blue-eyed soldier in front of you, "What on earth are you doing up here at this hour? And why are you showering in the rain?" you asked him.

He is soaking wet because of the rain. He must be riding his motorcyle without any rain coat.

After you questioned him, you realized that the James Buchanan Barnes in front of you right now is different from the James Buchanan Barnes you always interact with. That cocky and naughty James Barnes who always bully Sam when the three of you are together. There's sadness and loneliness in his eyes. Apart from that, you can also sense longingness in him for unknown reason.

"I didn't want to wake you and bother your sleep, but..." he paused for a moment to find the right words to say to you, but he didn't find any lucky, "Anyway, I'll just leave."

Before he could turn his back on you, you grabbed his wrist.

"No, don't go, Barnes."

You have no idea why those words escaped through your mouth. All you know is that you didn't want him to go back to his house and be more miserable and lonely. You didn't want to push him away, as you can already sense that he's not okay. So you decided to ask him to stay since you have a spare room in your apartment.

"I'm not yet asleep when you knocked anyway," you lied to make him feel less guilty for waking you up, "I could use some company."

You and Bucky has been civil and professional with each other. You can call each other friends but you know that there's a borderline between the two of you. But seeing him in front of your house in the middle of the night, there must be something. And maybe it was the time that you and him will finally erase that borderline.

As soon as both of you entered the living room, you asked him to stay there and you quickly get a towel upstairs.

While waiting for you, Bucky roamed his eyes around your living room and he noticed the newly displayed pictures on your wall, which he can clearly see because of the lamp near it.

Your picture. Your picture with your family. Your photo with Steve. Your photo with Wanda and Nat. Your photo with Dr. Banner in a form of green, big guy and with Clint.

But the picture that stunned him was a picture of him and Sam.

As he was about to grab the picture frame, you saw him while you were holding the towel.

You've been unoccupied with the last few weeks, so you decided to have some redecoration on your apartment. You bought new printer and new picture frames. You decided to put the important people in your lives, until you've come to realized that you don't have pictures with Sam and Bucky, and they helped you once in a while.

"Barnes, here's your towel," you said as you walk towards him and handed him the towel.

His stare let go of the pictures and accepted the towel.

You offered him coffee but he refused. You also offered him with water, something to eat or anything, but he refused too. So, to make things not so awkward, you asked him the question you've been meaning to ask him.

"Barnes, wha---"

He cut you off, "Call me by my last name again and I'll leave."

He used the voice that he's using when Sam is annoying him with the use of his redwing. You were stunned when you heard him using that kind of tone to you.

"What do you want me to call you, then?" you confidently asked, trying to hide that you were kind of scared when he used that kind of voice towards you.

"Bucky."

You didn't have the guts to call him that because you once heard him telling Sam that he shouldn't call him Bucky because he's not Steve, so you thought that only close friends and family can call him that.

So you asked yourself, are we that close now?

"I installed your book shelf in your bedroom, I put up your headboard, I even fixed your dresser, and here you are, still calling me Barnes?" he scoffed as he sat down in the couch.

You sat down on the couch across him and cleared your throat, "Okay. So, Bucky, why did you really come here?" you asked.

The sadness and loneliness came back in his eyes as soon as you asked him. All of a sudden he remembered what really pushed him to go in your place.

"Before the Flag Smasher fiasco in New York, Sam advised me about making amendments," he started.

You nodded, "Which I'm already aware."

He glares at you, giving you a look if you want him to finish talking and explaining or you'll conitnue to give comments.

"Anyway, I came to Yori last night and..." he paused for a moment as he look down and avoided your gaze, "...and I told him about what I did to his son. I...I told him that I am the murderer of his son...I was the one who...who," the moment you saw him struggling to continue his story, you immediately stood up and walked towards him, "Fuck!" he hissed and closed his eyes while his palm is already on his face.

You are very much aware of everything that Bucky have been through. You also knew how much he wanted to forget everything he unwillingly do when he was still under Hydra's spell. You saw in him how eager he is to become a better version of himself.

"Bucky, it's not your fault," you said, trying to calm him down.

You were hesitatnt to sit beside him and put your arms around him to comfort him, but you could see that he really needs a friend, and that's the exact reason why he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He needs a friend and the friend he needs is you.

You squeezed his shoulders as you calm him down.

"You are not the Winter Soldier anymore, Bucky," you reminded him, while waiting for him to meet your gaze.

"Winter Soldier will always be marked as me," he countered.

He finally removes his hands from his face and you saw how red his eyes were. He was holding his tears back.

This is the first time that you actually saw him like this, but your belief and confidence in him and his heart hasn't changed a bit. You've always believed that there's a good person in him despite his dark past. You know for a fact that he's already far from the man he was before. You believe tat one day, people will remember Bucky Barnes as the man who had his redemption by saving people's lives. You believe in him. You have faith in him. And you wanted him to know that.

"Did you know why I chose you and Sam to be my trainor when everybody left?" you asked him.

Of all people, you chose him and Sam.

His blue eyes finally meet with your gaze and he is totally waiting for you to asnwer your own question.

"Because when everybody left, you and Sam constantly checked up on me. When I told everyone that I am moving, you and Sam instantly came to my old place and helped me without asking you to do it. Especially you, Bucky," your hands traveled all the way his knuckles and gave it a squeeze, "I know we're not really that close, we don't tell everything to each other, but every single time we cross paths, you are very concern and you are always taking good care of me as if I'm your sister."

"I don't look at you like that," he suddenly said, stopping you from talking.

Suddenly, his metal arm was already on top your hand, holding it like it's a fragile flower vase.

You waited for him to continue from talking but he was just staring at you. You felt uncomfortable the way he looks at you because you feel butterflies roaming around your stomach so you decided to avoid his gaze and continue on making him feel better.

"As I was saying," you cleared your throat and closed your eyes for a second before you move your eyes back to him again, "Bucky, you should stop letting your past determine what you will be. Steve saw something good in you and that's what we're seeing in you. Unfortunately, you don't see that because you're too busy thinking of what others will think about you and your new life. You should stop that, Bucky. Do this whole thing for yourself, for the people who believe in you and that's us. We're here. I am here."

A small smile came up in his oh-so-perfect lips.

"Thank you," he said while his eyes are pinned on yours.

You looked down and smiled, "It's the least that I could do for the person who fixed almost everything in this apartment of mine."

"Hey, Sam helped too," he said, being too humble to accept the compliment.

He and Sam helped you, but knowing that Bucky have vibranium arms, he's much more help than Sam.

"Well, since only the two of us is here, let's just keep it a secret that you did all the work here," you joked as you moved your eyes back to him, "Just so you know, you are always welcome to come here, Bucky. I could also use a friend sometimes," and when you said that, you suddenly felt loneliness in your heart as well.

All those times that you've been in your bedroom, watching a dumb-romantic movie just because you're bored, the times when you had to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner and even midnight snack alone, because no one's around to accompany you. And you don't want to oblige everyone to accompany you 24/7 since everyone has their own lives to fix and run.

You were too shy to tell Bucky about how welcome you are for him, however, you're not too proud to seek new friendships.

"And just so you know too, I'm here," he said as he gave your cheeks a caress. "And I don't want you to think that I only see you as a sister or what, because you're not."

Your brows formed a frown when you heard what he said.

"Just don't, okay?"

You gave him a nod and a smile, even though you are completely puzzled with what he said.

[keanureevesisbae]

sugar sugar - the planning 3.0

Summary: Someone the engaged couple both didn’t expect, is coming back into their lives

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Light mentions of an argument. Mentions of hospital, cock warming (it’s becoming their thing now) and some rough sex (spanking, anal play, vibrators - the whole deal)

Wordcount: 4.9k

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

March 1st 7 p.m.

Work has been killing Henry lately. He grows more and more tired and to my own surprise, he is even in a bad mood every now and then, a rarity when it comes to Henry. He hates talking about what is bothering him and I hate having to pry.

But it has been enough. I don’t like the fact he continues to lock himself in his office at work and I decide to surprise him. He always likes surprises, especially these ones I arranged myself.

I barge into his office and I see… He is actually taking a nap? That’s new. He only takes naps at home, with his hands slipped underneath my shirt, his head resting on my chest. His eyes flutter open, ready to scold anyone who came in, until he realizes it’s just me.  ‘Thought I locked the elevator,’ he says, ‘made it unavailable.’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ I say, as I walk up to him and ignoring the fact that he might’ve made it unavailable for me as well to come up here. He probably didn’t mean it like that.

‘Okay, what is it?’

I hop on an empty corner of his desk. ‘I made reservations for us at the Plaza and afterwards, you and I can do all sorts of things in all sorts of compromising positions, if you know what I mean.’

Henry frowns, the complete opposite reaction I was expecting. ‘I can’t, baby.’

‘Why not?’ I ask him. ‘I checked your schedule and it’s all free. You have time and you should take time. You’ve been working really hard.’

‘I know, but I can’t. I have too much to do here.’

I don’t understand. He has been working non stop this week and he still doesn’t have time? He always makes time for me, for us. ‘It’s just one night, Henry,’ I try again.

‘I already told you that I can’t.’

Oh, he is in a mood? Never did he sound so… Flat and borderline annoyed when he is talking to me.

‘Oh,’ I say, not really sure how to handle this type of disappointment. ‘Sure?’

‘Damn it, Becky. Yes, I’m sure. I have tons of work to do and I cannot afford to take a break now! Some people actually have tons of work to do.’

Okay, he is mad at me now, something I totally didn’t deserve. I think I didn’t deserve it, I’m not even sure right now. Maybe this was too much? Yeah, it was too much. I shouldn’t have done that. ‘Well, excuse me for trying to do something nice for you,’ I say, sliding off his desk. ‘Good luck with work.’

‘Are you mad?’ he asks me.

He has some guts. Yes, I’m mad. ‘No, why on earth would I be?’ I ask in a petty tone, as I walk backwards towards the elevator. ‘Bye Henry, hope you finish your work.’

‘Baby, wait,’ he says, but I don’t listen. With large strides I near the elevator and get in, not even looking at him anymore. As the doors slide shut, I grab my phone and send both Genevieve and Viola a text.

Becky: You girls want to spend the evening at the Plaza?

Genevieve: Is that even a question?

Viola: When?

Becky: Thirty minutes?

Genevieve: I’ll be there in ten.

✤ ✤ ✤

Genevieve, Viola and I are sitting in the Plaza, the three of us looking over the city, as we enjoy the view. Well, they are enjoying the view. I keep on thinking about Henry. He never snaps at me like that, just like he never calls me by my name. It’s always sweetheart, darling or my favorite: baby girl. For him to call me ‘Becky’ means I did something wrong, right? Was I out of line? Should I have checked with him? I mean, surprises are meant to surprise, so I shouldn’t have told him, right?

My brain is working overtime, unable to actually enjoy hanging out with my friends.

‘Earth to Becky,’ Viola says, nudging my side. I look up from my wine glass. ‘Honey, you’re still thinking about you and Henry? It’s just a little set back, nothing too bad.’

‘Oh my,’ Genevieve says, ‘are you that disgusting type of couple that never fight? I fight with Greg all the time.’

‘We know,’ Viola butts in. ‘Come on, Gen, you know that Becky doesn’t do well with fighting. Besides, Henry is the type of man that is above pointless fights with his fiancée. Becky, what can we do for you?’

‘I don’t know. Cancel the wedding?’

Genevieve chokes on her drink. ‘For heaven’s sake, Becky, please tell me that is a joke. I swear, if you are going to cancel, I will kill you.’

I glare at her. ‘It may have been a poorly misplaced joke and a total overreaction from my side. Sorry.’

She takes a breath out of utter belief. ‘Don’t do that. I can take jokes about a lot of things, but not our wedding day.’

‘My wedding day, Gen. I’m the one getting married.’

She snorts. ‘Okay,’ she chuckles, rolling her eyes as if she cannot possibly believe that I just called it my wedding, instead of ours. ‘Anyways, I actually got a call from the bridal shop. The bridesmaids dresses are gonna be done at the end of the month, so make sure you can join us for the final fitting.’ Genevieve lets out a squeal. ‘Ah, I’m so excited. You know what comes after the wedding?’

‘Honeymoon?’ Viola and I ask.

‘Yes, that too, but also kids. I think that we should get at least once get pregnant together, because that is such a cute friendship thing for us to do.’

I don’t know if I can handle being pregnant and dealing with Gen’s hormonal mood swings, but I keep those words to myself.

‘Since our little baby factory is probably gonna have a few, Viola and I will have time enough to get it right.’

‘Do you have to call me a baby factory?’ I ask Genevieve. ‘I say once that a large family is okay for me and all of the sudden I’m a baby factory.’

‘I mean, you’re having at least two and with the way you guys are at it, there is a chance his little soldiers will find their way multiple times. One way or another.’

‘Stop talking,’ I say to Genevieve, as blood rises to my cheeks.

Viola tries to contain her laughter, but fails miserably. ‘Are you finally gonna tell her?’

Now I’m confused. ‘Tell me what?’

‘A few months back I kinda walked in on the two of you.’

Genevieve could’ve literally told me that she was gonna be president of name a country and I wouldn’t be as surprised as I am now. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, you left your keys at my place, so I figured I would bring them to you. However when I walked in, I was met with loud moans and skin slapping.’

Oh, no, I want to die.

‘It was really hilarious,’ she continues, ‘because you were on the back rest of the couch and let’s just say that you have a respectable boob size, you two kiss hella sloppy and Henry’s ass naked is delicious.’

I look at my glass of wine and gulp it all down, hoping that drinking my embarrassment and humiliation away would make the situation less awful.

It’s not working.

‘I kinda wished you never told me this,’ I mumble.

Viola finally bursts out into the loud laughter I was expecting from her a few moments ago. ‘This is gold, I wished I had this reaction on video.’

Genevieve chuckles. ‘So yeah, when I say you two are at it like bunnies, I’m not lying.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When I arrive back at the apartment, I almost forgot about the little situation Henry and I got ourselves in. Genevieve and Viola always know the exact things to tell me that makes me forget about a lot. Seeing Henry sitting on the couch, clearly beating himself up, almost makes me feel sorry for him, however I decide to be a petty bitch.

He really did hurt my feelings.

I walk straight to the kitchen and despite me hearing him follow me, I disregard my instinct and don’t turn towards him.

‘Becky,’ he says, his tone soft and slightly unsure. Him calling out my name in a tone like this, is an indication he is aware of the thin ice he is skating on.

‘Mhm?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for? You were busy and I was intruding.’ I let the tea bag soak for a few moments. ‘You know, Genevieve, Viola and I had a great time together,’ I continue. ‘I arranged amazing seats at the Plaza. It had a view over the Hudson and we saw a lot of fairies.’ I know those are his favorite spots and he always tells me that one day he’ll take me on a fairy. ‘Never been on a fairy before.’ That’s a jab I knew would hurt the most. Damn, I’m awful. With the mug in my hand, I turn around, to see that Henry is looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘How was work? Did you finish it?’

He shakes his head.

Don’t say it, Becky. ‘Oh, why not?’ Damn it, Becky.

‘You serious?’ he asks. ‘We had an argument.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly, Henry. It wasn’t an argument. You were working and I had some poor planning. A small misunderstanding. Happens to all the couples some day.’

He sighs. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that tone,’ he says. ‘You were right, I could’ve needed a break. Work has been killing these last few weeks and I… I keep convincing myself I can do it all…’ He leans against the kitchen island and folds his arms. ‘Truth is, we lost some investors and I’ve been trying to rectify the situation. It’s just that it’s not working.’

Oh, I didn’t know that. Now I feel sorry for being so bitchy to him. ‘I see,’ I mumble. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he says.

‘You understand that I can read you like a book, right?’ I ask him. ‘Henry, I’m gonna be your wife, I know when something is bothering you.’

‘I know and to take it out on you, wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.’

I nod, placing the mug on the counter. ‘I’m sorry too.’

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For being petty and inconsiderate of your time. I shouldn’t have just surprised you like that. I know you’re busy.’

‘But never too busy for you. You did everything right. Checked my schedules, arranged it at a time where I barely have anything to do. It was the perfect surprise. Having dinner with you at the Plaza is one of my favorite places to have dinner with you. Staring at those fairies is what we do.’ He carefully approaches, still unsure whether or not we’re on the same page. ‘You have nothing to apologize for. The only one who was at fault was me.’

I grab him by his tie and pull him in a hug, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles his face in my neck, whispering soft apologies.

‘It’s all good,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry for being petty.’

‘No, no, no, don’t be. I deserved that one. Especially after the tone I used on you.’ He pulls back a little and presses a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. ‘How about I take you to dinner tomorrow night?’

‘Sounds good. But you have to call this time,’ I say.

Henry raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You made the reservations yourself?’

I nod. ‘Hence the reason I might got a little bit extra defensive.’

He smiles at me, before giving me a kiss. ‘I’m so proud of you, baby. Practice makes perfect.’

‘I know,’ I say with a soft smile on my lips. ‘We’re good again?’

‘More than good,’ he chuckles. He lifts me on the counter and stands in between my legs. ‘How was it with Genevieve and Viola?’

‘Good,’ I say, ‘just discovered that Genevieve once walked in on us having sex.’

His eyes enlarge. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ I say. ‘She told me I have a respectable boob size, we kiss sloppy and that your naked ass looks really good.’

He lets out a nervous chuckle. ‘Your boobs are perfect,’ he says and I slap him across his chest. ‘You know I can never look at her again?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I laugh. ‘It’s nothing. She’ll just pester us with it for a while and then she finds something else to humiliate me with. Really, it’s no big deal.’

March 20th 2 p.m.

I place the groceries in the fridge, after I got back home. I actually want to plan cooking Henry some dinner so I bought all the ingredients I think I need. He always does so much for me, so it’s only fair that I’m doing it too every once in a while.

Let’s just hope I don’t fail miserably.

My phone starts to ring and I quickly pick up. ‘Hello.’

‘Good afternoon, is this Becky Kim?’ a female voice asks.

I frown. ‘Yes, this is her. Is everything alright?’

‘My name is Alicia, a nurse at NewYork-Presbyterian. I’m calling in regards of Sehun Kim.’

Dad? That Sehun Kim? Too say I’m absolutely flabbergasted is an understatement. ‘Excuse me if I come off extremely rude, but I’m sure I’m not registered as his next of kin. Isn’t there someone else to call?’

‘Well miss Kim, you are his next of kin. Your father had a ruptured appendix. Thankfully he got to the hospital in time, but his health is severely declined. We are keeping him here for a few days, to see if everything is alright.’

I lean against the sink, thinking about my next move. ‘Is there anyone with him right now?’ I ask.

‘No, miss.’

I sigh deeply. What to do, what to do? ‘I’ll be there shortly.’ When I hang up the phone, I arrange the chauffeur to drive me to the hospital and I grab some stuff I need. As I step into the elevator, I text Henry to tell him what’s going on.

Becky: My dad is in the hospital, I’m going there right now

Daddy 🥰: Darling, are you okay? Do you need anything?

Becky: I’m taking the driver. Just be there when I get home?

Daddy 🥰: Of course, baby girl. Just tell me when you need something, okay?

Becky: Will do

✤ ✤ ✤

I have been looking at my father for a few minutes now from behind the glass. He looks a lot older than I remember him. I wonder why I’m next of kin and not my mom or my siblings.  I mean, he hasn’t seen me in so long, I literally told my family I never wanted to see them anymore and that included him.

With my arms crossed in front of my chest, I hesitate whether or not I’m gonna open that door and walk into his room.

I mean, I kinda want to.

I always felt like my father and I were pretty much the same, however he never showed me how much he loved me. It always seemed easier to love my siblings than me, but maybe there were certain things that held him back.

I never asked him and now I finally have a chance.

Finally I mustered up the confidence to just do it. I open the door and walk in. He is awake and looks at me, but like usual he isn’t saying anything. It could be hurtful, but it doesn’t feel like that. I walk towards the side of the bed. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask him.

Still he is unable to talk, but I see it. I see his eyes filling with tears and for the first time in forever, I see the hurt he probably had to endure all this time.

‘Dad, please say something to me.’

‘I’m sorry, Becky,’ he then says, his voice breaking in the process. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘For not standing up to you. For not being the dad you deserved, you needed.’ He rubs his eyes with his fingers and adds: ‘What kind of father allows this type of crap?’

I honestly don’t know, so all I can do is simply shrug. ‘I’m guessing mom wasn’t too kind on you either.’

He shakes his head. ‘She wasn’t.’

‘Then why didn’t you divorce her?’ I ask, in a harsher tone then I originally intended to. ‘Took me with you? We could’ve been happy, dad, just the two of us.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘Then why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you stand up for me?’

‘Because I was scared.’ It must be so painful for him to admit it, but I rather want him being honest with me, then him dancing around the subject. He was scared and I can’t blame him for it. Mom was (and I presume still is) pretty scary and if she was mean to me, I don’t think I can even fathom what happened between her and dad.

‘But why am I next of kin?’ I ask. ‘You have Liam and Celine.’

‘They are not you,’ he says and that hits something deep in my heart. ‘I was too scared to call you and tell you how sorry I am, so I changed you to my next of kin a few months back. I know, it was weak and I’m a coward, but it was the only way I felt like I could do ever talk to you again.’

It happens before I can even stop it. I place my hand on his and at first, dad doesn’t move, but then he holds my hand tightly in his.

‘I’m sorry, Becky. I’m so sorry.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I know.’

‘I can’t imagine what you went through. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve protected you.’

I don’t know what to say, so I simply grab a chair and drag it next to his bed, before taking place on it. ‘Then tell me everything you went through,’ I whisper, ‘maybe we can understand each other.’

✤ ✤ ✤

The afternoon turned into the night and it’s already seven p.m. when I arrive back the penthouse. It was both draining and very insightful. Everything I went through, my dad went through as well, for being a more shy personality, more serious and less out there. While I knew he would draw the short end of the stick when we were all together, he got it real bad when he was alone with my mom. The thing was: it didn’t stop when I moved out, when I told them I never wanted to see them again.

It only got worse.

Somehow me ending up in juvie, was his fault.

I close the door of the apartment and Henry says: ‘There you are. Baby girl, how are you?’

‘I’m okay,’ I say, though that is not quite the truth. ‘It went well.’

Henry stands up and walks over to me. ‘Glad to hear.’ He gives me a kiss, as his hands find mine. ‘Your dad is gonna be okay?’

‘Yeah, he just has to stay to see if all goes well tonight.’ I let out a deep sigh. ‘I missed him.’

He nods, allowing me to find the words to describe how I’m feeling.

‘We talked for a long while,’ I continue. ‘But I’m going back tomorrow, because I feel like we have a lot to catch up on. Wanna join me?’

‘If you want me to, I’ll happily go, you know that.’

I don’t want to cry, I think I did that enough the last few hours, however a few tears escape. ‘Daddy, can you hold me?’

He doesn’t waste a single second, before he hoists me up in his arms, holding me closely to his body. ‘I’m right here, sweetheart.’

I close my eyes, as I cling onto him. I start to sniffle, but it’s enough for Henry to be alerted.

‘Baby girl. What is it? What do you need?’

‘A hug.’

He pulls back a little and cocks an eyebrow. ‘That kind of hug?’

I nod. ‘Please?’

‘Of course.’ He carries me to the sauna, where he undoes me from my clothing and quickly shreds himself from his. We step into the hot sauna and I sit on his lap, before he starts the preparations. His hands massage my entire body, as I place my forehead against his. ‘I love you,’ he whispers against my lips.

‘I love you too.’

‘You did well today.’ He squeezes my breasts in his large hands, flicking my nipples and it’s already doing its magic trick in between my legs. ‘I’m proud of you, because it mustn’t be easy.’ He gives me a kiss, before he brings his lips to my hardened nipple, wrapping them around the sensitive nub.

I kiss him on his hairline. ‘You are?’

‘Oh baby, you have no idea.’

I reach down, grabbing his semi hard cock and rub his tip against my clit. I whimper, causing Henry to look up. He kisses me, soft and slow. ‘When you’re ready,’ he says.

I line him up near my throbbing entrance and I sink onto him, biting away the slight pain as I stretch around him. Henry rubs my clit and the pain quickly subdues. He leans back against the wall, pulling me onto his chest, his fingers drawing soft circles on my back.

I don’t know how long we are in this position, but when I open my eyes again, I feel pretty drowsy, almost like I fell asleep.

Henry is already awake, still holding me close against him, not caring that we’re both drenched in sweat. ‘Hi, baby girl,’ he whispers.

‘Hi.’

‘You were gone for quite a while. We’ve been here for an hour, or so.’

I smile. ‘I feel better, thank you.’

‘That’s good, that’s good.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘You look better.’

‘Daddy,’ I whisper, ‘I love you.’

‘Oh, I love you too.’

I rock my hips on his and he hums in content. ‘Fuck me,’ I beg. ‘Please do. I need it.’

‘How do you need it?’ he asks. ‘Rough? Soft? I’ll give it to you, baby girl. Just tell me what you need.’

I bite my lip. ‘I need it rough, daddy. Please, I need it rough.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When I ask for rough, I’ll get it even rougher. Henry used his tie to restrain my hands above my head, so he has his hands free to press the vibrator against my clit while he pounds himself inside of me. He is ruthless, but that is exactly what I need.

My mind is blank, as the only things I feel is being overpowered, loved and taken care of. I don’t know how many times I already came, but my sobs are quite telling.

‘You gonna cum again, baby?’

I nod, before my eyes roll back and my juices squirt passed him. Telling from his grunts, he is close as well.

‘Shit, baby girl, you feel so fucking good around me.’ He throws the vibrator to the side, tightening his grip on my hips, as I ride out my high. I’m a crying mess, tears dripping over my cheeks and that’s about the same time his hips stutter against mine, his warm seed spilled deep inside of me. He unties my hands, before giving me a sloppy kiss. ‘You okay?’ he asks, still buried inside of me.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’

‘You feel better?’

I smile. ‘I do, thank you, daddy. I needed that.’

He gives me a kiss on my lips and wipes away the tears. ‘You want to talk about it or not?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just glad you helped me out here.’ I place my hands on his chest. ‘Could need a shower, though.’

‘I know,’ he chuckles. ‘How about you take a shower, I’ll clean up in here and then join you?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ I whisper. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, baby girl.’

March 21st 11 a.m.

The next day I’m back at the hospital, only this time I took Henry with me. He holds my hand in his and gives me a reassuring kiss on my fingers. ‘You want me in there with you two immediately?’ he asks me.

I don’t need to think about that for very long, because I quickly nod. ‘Of course. I actually quite need you in there.’

We stop in front of his door and I take a deep breath before knocking three times and peaking around the corner. ‘Dad,’ I say, causing him to look up from his book, ‘I’m back and brought someone.’

Henry and I step into the room and my dad nods, taking in Henry. ‘Your fiancé,’ dad says, closing his book. Yesterday I told him a lot about Henry already, especially because my dad read my interview and actually figured out how to check my Instagram. It was his own way to keep track of me and for some odd reason, I’m glad he did. He holds out his hand and Henry is quick to take it. ‘I’m Sehun, nice to meet you.’

‘My name is Henry, sir. It’s great to meet you too.’ He pulls two chairs next to dad’s bed and we both take a seat.

I take his hand into mine and say: ‘Dad, how are you feeling?’

‘Better, better.’ Dad stares at Henry and says: ‘It doesn’t take a genius to see how happy you are with each other.’

I smile, my other hand blindly searching Henry’s.

‘I also don’t need to tell you, but you need to take good care of her.’

Henry nods. ‘Don’t you worry, sir, I take good care of her.’

My dad looks up at the ceiling, tears in his eyes.

‘Dad, please,’ I say, ‘it’s all okay. We spoke about this yesterday: I don’t blame you. Not at all, not in the slightest.’

He has never been the talkative type, I know that. It pains me to see how crushed he is, how much he is beating himself up. I understand that he feels like that, however I am not mad. After yesterday’s talk I understood and realized I never wanted to be mad at him at all.

‘I don’t know if you can make it and if you even want to, but you—and you alone—can come to the wedding if you want. It’s a little short notice, I know, but Henry and I would love it if you were there.’

Dad simply nods. ‘I would love that too,’ he says in a hoarse tone. ‘Just… You have to help me with something first.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Help me arrange a divorce.’

Don’t overreact, Becky. The rush of utter euphoria fills my body. He wants to divorce my mom? After all those years? Is there an opportunity I could still have that relationship with my dad I have always secretly wanted and wished for.

I look over my shoulder to Henry, who seems to read my eyes. ‘I can arrange something with my lawyer,’ Henry says, squeezing my fingers. ‘You know what, I’ll call him right now. Maybe we can arrange something very soon.’

Henry leaves the room, holding his phone in his hand and my dad nods. ‘You have a nice fiancé,’ he says. ‘Takes good care of you.’

I smile. ‘Yeah, he does. He is the love of my life.’

Dad tilts his head. ‘You sure you want me there?’

‘Yes, I’d love to. We have an entire month to get to know each other and that of course won’t change after the wedding. We could look for an apartment for you, make sure you can start a new life.’

‘It’s a father’s job to protect and take care of his kids, not the other way around.’ He sighs deeply and says: ‘I have never taken care of you. Protected you from those vile words spilled from your mom and siblings.’

‘But you will,’ I say. ‘Please, it’s all good. Know and accept that, okay? I want to work on our relationship and that can start with an apartment when you are released from this awful place.’

For the first time he widely smiles. ‘I’m a lucky man for having a daughter like you.’

Henry enters the room again and says: ‘Well, I spoke to my lawyer and he is ready to meet you in a few days. There is a possibility he can expedite the process.’

Dad nods again. ‘Thank you, Henry. Now please sit, so I can get to know you.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When Henry and I are back in the car after hours of getting to know my father, tears finally drip over my tears. ‘Baby girl,’ he says, ‘it’s okay. You did amazing.’

‘I just don’t know why I’m crying, especially because I’m happy. I’m happy with all of this, however it’s just that… I wish there was more I could do.’

‘You are doing all you can,’ he says. ‘And your dad knows that.’

I hide my face in my hands and I feel Henry’s hand in the back of my neck. He presses a kiss on the top of my head.

‘I love you, baby girl and we’ll get through this.’

[violetnotez]

hi hi!! if you don’t already have a full inbox, could i request a little scenario of nishinoya and his fem! or gn! crush who gets super super flustered whenever he “jokingly” flirts with her? tysm !

Omg I may have the *tiniest crush on Nishinoya 😊👀

Characters: NIshinoya x reader

Masterlist | Kofi | Request a Fic | Commission Info

“Goooooddddd morning beautiful!”

Nishinoya was as energetic as ever, a bright smile lighting up his face and eyes almost ablaze. He was always so pumped to play, no matter what time of day it was- and especially if you were around to watch him.

His brown eyes instantly zoomed onto your frame, so happy to see you with that goofy grin taking over his whole face.

“Whoa-did you get a new skirt?” He almost gasped with excitement, feeling his heart thump in his chest as you turned around looking as pretty as ever to him.

“Oh, hey Nishi!” You greeted nonchalantly, his heart swelling with the way you used his nickname. (Nishinoya was convinced you could call him any name and you’d somehow make it sound adorable and like music to his ears.)

“Yeah, my last one was getting old,” you continued on, so used to his over analyzing and outbursts, “so I got a new one-“

“Is this one shorter?” He interjected quickly, the hyperness evident in his face as his voice became more excited, “Cause it looks shorter!”

You chuckled nervously, scratching the back of your ear as you looked to the side, that flustered sensation building in your stomach.

“I-I’m not too sure...”

Nishinoya didn’t even seemed to be phased by your change in demeanor, that bright, prideful smile turning into one with a mischievous twist.

“Can I check for ya?”

You’re eyes instantly widened, a ball of saliva stuck in your throat.

Did he really just-?

“Nishinoya!” You scolded him, cheeks feeling hot as you clutched your clipboard to your chest. he laughed at your shocked expression, that chuckle bright and cheery like the sun itself.

“Joking, joking!” He continued on between laughs that slowly turned into giggles, his hands grasping the sides of his stomach.

“But if you wanted me to check...”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks still feeling warm as you took your pen and gently poked him on his chest, right on the “ICS” symbol.

“Just go warm up you weirdo-“

“Just one thing!” He exclaimed, his face so optimistic and exhilarated like a child stepping into a toy store.

“I’ll go warm up....if I get a kiss!”

This time it was your turn to laugh-how could you not, when he was looking at you with big brown doe eyes and the most hopeful expression?

He was lucky he was so damn cute-or this would have been borderline creepy.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re a pain in my ass, ya know that?”

Nishinoya continued to smile up at you as if you were the only person he could ever think about, infactuation clouding his expression.

“I’ll be a pain in your ass every day just to see you smile.”

Well shit-the way he said that had no amount of playfulness to it-it was so utterly truthful and honest that it made your heart thump like a drum in your chest.

Sometimes, you could convince yourself that Nishinoya was only flirting because you were of the opposite gender-the boy practically acted like he’d go after anything with two legs and a chest.

But when he talked to you like that, like he was being raw about his feelings, or when he looked at you like you were the only person in his world-it made you wonder....

Did he really like you-like that?

“Please go help Tanaka and Suga set up and warm up...please?” You urged him, just wanting to get that thumping out of your chest and process your emotions.

Nishinoya was completed unfazed, that grin right back on his cheeks.

“Of course my lady, as you wish!” He said heroically, making a big show of bowing like some noble prince out of a movie.

(Which did not go unnoticed by some of his teammates, gaining chuckles as well as smiles of sympathy for the goofball.)

“Next time can I get that kiss?”

“Just go set up already,” you said with fake exasperation, smiling from the exhilaration of just being near him.

There was never a dull moment with Nishinoya-that was for damn sure.

© Violetnote 2020

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

[virghogh]

NCT Dream Birth Charts x Hexaco Results Analysis pt. 3

recently NCT Dream were on a new reality show called Mental Training Camp where they are doing a variety of activities and all of their behavior and interactions are being analyzed by professional psychologists

ofc my virgo sun mercury ass was thrilled and I had their birth charts pulled up the whole time to cross reference.

I wanted to share some of my personal thoughts on how the 2 might connect!

Thank you for all the support on the previous parts <3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 

**key: in the hexaco charts the blue represents the Dreamies, the orange is an average result of 300 college students who took the same test**

Haechan - “Popular and Ambitious” 

✨gemini sun // leo moon // cancer mercury // gemini venus // gemini mars✨

they started Haechans analyses by labeling him as popular and ambitious, and even without looking at the hexaco or his birth chart these 2 traits are very easy to see in him. Haechans birth chart and hexaco are really interesting and almost refreshing to me because everything is so straightforward. I honestly think Haechan is a very what you see is what you get kind of person. I think the psychologists on the show were feeling some of that interest and refreshing feeling too because they described him as being very different from the rest of the group (and the college students), and kind of special. A somewhat rare personality.

the first thing they talked about was his insane level of extroversion. I have to say when I first saw that I choked on air a little. Not only is it just ridiculously high, but it’s also so obvious given his birth chart too. looking at the hexaco chart, the focus on extroversion and then how the other areas are either just around the average or below is very interesting to me. we saw something similar in a few of the previous dreamies too. Some of them had highly above average scores for one area and to me that says a lot about the dominant parts of their personality. 

Looking at haechans birth chart, we all know he’s practically on par with Seventeens Hoshi for being an iconic gemini. Having such a social, extroverted and excitable sign in 3 different planets will certainly make someone extroverted, but charts have to be looked at as a whole as well and he’s also fortunate to have a leo moon because it doesn’t add any kind of introversion. He is a pure excitable, affectionate and social extrovert. His extroversion can be seen in the ways he’s very interested in whats happening “out there”. Gemini’s are very curious and restless and like to explore the world and environment around them, and have a lot to gain from connecting with people. 

Right after they mentioned this though, they quickly added that it’s actually somewhat rare for highly extroverted people to be highly conscientious too. If you look at his hexaco his next highest scores are conscientiousness and openness. Even though gemini is a mutable sign and likes to try new things and stay entertained, they are some of the most determined people I’ve ever met. You do not want to get in between a Gemini and their work. Gemini is a very mental sign as well, they’re good with tasks and enjoy getting them done and focusing on their work. As well as his firey Leo moon. Leo is a sign that I often think can change quite a lot depending on the chart and houses but his with the gemini, is creating a highly focused, ambitious and driven person. 

they described him as the “relief pitcher” for the team when in crisis. He’s the one that comes into the game for a round or 2 when things aren’t going well to secure their win, then steps back out. If this isn’t the most accurate description for haechan and gemini/leo?! Leo and Gemini are both highly intelligent signs, I feel like people don’t talk about that a lot with leo but it’s true! Also his combination of leo with gemini is interesting because sometimes people have drive, ambition and passion, but there are other placement that kind of complicate how it gets expressed. And they can’t always fulfill all of their desires and passions. But having all gemini and that one leo is really in his favor, he’s very “this is what I want, so I’m going to get it”. It’s easy for him. He can easily bring his ambitions to fruition which is why he’s the “relief pitcher”. It’s gemini magic and leo talent honestly.

this was the extent of what they said for Haechan but I have more I’d like to add! 

his openness is on par with his conscientiousness and that is also no surprise because even though gemini gets a rep. for being “detached” it’s actually a fairly open sign too. What gemini is open about depends greatly on the other placements, and in haechans case with his only other influences being leo and cancer, he can easily be open about those traits and desires. The attention, validation, love and affection. They are all very big parts of him, and he also has no problem speaking his mind. But he also isn’t as obsessive as other leo and cancer combinations because of his overwhelming gemini. It’s very “in this second I want affection” and then the next second he’s over it. With haechan I’ve always found it interesting how he is so openly affectionate but it never seems like an unhealthy attachment thing? he isn’t reliant on it, and can easily go from wanting it, to not. It’s very uncomplicated. This is also part of the Gemini rep. they are very flighty and their minds change by the second, but are also very self-reliant and independent. This is also why his emotionality is low even though his openness is high. Again, I don’t think he’s an emotionally driven person, he’s just open with his desires. 

tldr; talented, confident, skilled, self-sufficient and independent. He is driven by exploring the world and people around him, he enjoys making connections. Very open about his thoughts and needs, but emotionally uncomplicated. His drive and ambition is bottomless, never-ending. What he wants, he gets. 

Jaemin - “Optimistic My Way”

✨leo sun // capricorn moon // leo mercury // virgo venus // leo mars✨

I would like to start by saying that Jaemin is the sole reason that it took me so long to get this post out. This boy has always, and probably always will, confuse the hell out of me. And I’m sure he likes it that way. Actually, I’m confident he likes it that way because he admitted to the psychologists that on the test they took he answered number 3 for every question, so he wouldn’t have to reveal too much about himself. This is why they labeled him as “my way”, very “do what I want” kind of person. They said he really made them use a lot of brain power, and I relate lol. Even outside of this post every time I watch nct dream I’m always trying to understand Jaemin. So here goes my best shot at understanding this man. 

they mentioned jaemin is difficult and complicated, he’s hard to read, and he’s someone that cannot be perfectly described with one personality test. I agree, which is why I hope one day we can get those house placements please! 

The first thing that caught my attention based off his chart is how small his blue hexagon is. I actually had to double check that the blue was him and not the average😅 because of how he answered the test I don’t know how accurate the hexaco is? they didn’t really comment on that but they did continue to reference it. 

the main thing they talked about with Jaemin was about how he is very aware of what he does and doesn’t like, he knows who he gets along with and who he doesn’t, he has no problems showing when he doesn’t like something, and he is very uninterested and borderline apathetic when it comes to things and people he is simply not interested in. 

I think where I get really tripped up with Jaemin is because he has 3 leo placements, yet I feel like he doesn’t act much like a typical leo in my opinion? At least not to the cameras. I honestly think Jaemin might be someone who is very different off camera and at home. When I see jaemin I see flashes of it, but I get a lot of his earth influence. 

I want to start with his capricorn moon because I feel like it’s something i see the most in him. For starters, it is literally why he is so private. Even before this show, it was a well known thing amongst NCTzens that Jaemin is a very private person. He also comes off as very reserved, in control and calm. Jaemin answering every question with a 3, so that it neither over or under represents him, but puts him in the questionable middle, is very capricorn moon. Not wanting to be understood. Not wanting to appear as having any exact problems. They’re practical, controlled, level-headed... right? They’re not the ones with messy emotions, couldn’t be them.... That’s the whole capricorn struggle. The moon is put in a very tough spot with Capricorn. Scorpio moons are in fall and Capricorns are in detriment. But it works very differently. Scorpios have wickedly intense emotions that they are kind of scared of, so they hide them, but they want to be understood and feel safe enough to express them. Capricorn moons straight up deny their feelings. 

On the bright side though, I feel like his Capricorn moon is also responsible for the other part of his personality which is: how weird he is. Capricorn moons are also known for being ridiculously funny and weird. Very weird. I think this is also where his Leo comes in and kind of teams up with his moon. Leo’s are natural performers and sometimes when I watch Jaemin I find myself being like “he is really putting on a show right now” but not in a bad way, I’m always highly entertained lol. He is a natural performer.  

In haechan’s section I mentioned how, to me, leo is one of the signs that can change so drastically depending on the other planets and houses. I think jaemin is a really good example of this, because even without his hexaco chart we all know Jaemin is a huge introvert. He is actually a self-proclaimed introvert. He is open is the way he shows it, and he even said in a show that talking with people is hard because he loses so much energy. I think his Capricorn and Virgo play a big role in this and it’s why I’m so curious what his houses are and where that leo is. Because even though our moons affect us a lot, with 3 leo placements i would expect someone to be a little more extroverted. 

Where I also see a lot of his Leo though, is of course, with how affectionate he is. he’s also very creative and a huge provider. A big misconception with leo is that all they do is take. This is one side to leo, and Haechan is a good example of that side because he has the gemini and leo moon, but Jaemin is a really good example of the strong provider and caretaker side of Leo. With his earth placements too. he is definitely someone who prides himself on taking care of people. 

now to compare his hexaco to his birth chart, his extroversion, emotionality, agreeableness and honesty-humility is lower than average. Sure, part of that could be the way he took the test, but I also think it can be seen in his very controlling earth placements. Having earth in 2 of the planets that hold a lot of our emotions and expression, and the fact that it is virgo and capricorn and not taurus, is making him very in control of his emotions and expression, and he has strong boundaries. It also makes him more introverted. The low agreeableness is just his whole chart honestly. Leo is a fixed sign, and even though virgo is mutable, they still have very particular ways they like to do things, and capricorn is a leader and takes charge. 

His openness is interesting to me and I wanna say that I think it’s very similar to what I wrote for haechan. He’s open, but not necessarily emotionally driven. He is open about the things that drive him, so not emotions, but something else. Work. His morals and values. His boundaries. Things he does and doesn’t like! lastly, his conscientiousness also fits into this, virgo capricorn and leo are all extremely driven, passionate and hard workers and we know work and stability is a high value and priority of his.  

tdlr; hard to read, very private and likes it that way. He is driven by work, ethic, stability and providing. He knows his values, and has little interest in things he doesn’t care for. Optimistic, weird, funny and a natural performer. Likes to be in control and needs to recharge a lot. Probably the most different off camera and at home. 

and that’s part 3! Thanks you to everyone that has tuned into this series it was so much fun. Thoughts and feedback are always welcome <3

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 1

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff WordCount | 3.6 K Author'sNote | lmaoooo the fact that I intended this to be a oneshot type of thing oops. Wellllll, I tried. Most likely to be a two part series, but we'll see.

This is part of a series I intend to call "If Songs were Fics" and this particular one was loosely inspired by TXT's Anti-Romantic bc I'm obsessed. I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I don't know who loves me

And I don't care, It's a waste anyways

A romantic feeling, Kinda scares me

“Any plans for you birthday next week?”

Jaehyun shakes his head at you, “no, not yet, don’t you have that date with that barista?”

“I’m not sure, he’s been acting weird over text lately. Might not be worth it,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s your birthday! You only get one of those a year, we should plan something.”

You were on your way to the gym, a ritual you and Jaehyun had ever since you both found out you worked for the same company. You had been childhood friends, but ended up losing touch since you went to separate universities.

It was a nice surprise to see a friendly face on the first day of orientation and throughout the duration of your training for the next six weeks. Although you were both from different departments, you enjoyed taking your lunch breaks together and sharing small gossip about your old class-mates.

“ugh, don’t remind me,” he let’s out a long sigh, “every year, it seems like my family won’t stop pestering me about starting a family.”

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing, just not for me. Or at least not yet. I don’t think I’m the type to settle down,” he shrugs again as if it were no big deal.

You gasp, “how could you say that? I’ve seen your insta account. It’s got your cousin’s kids all over it!” You stop to take a good look at him as he holds the door of the gym open for you. “Back in school too, you used to tutor those elementary kids for volunteering hours. Even when you didn’t need them. You’ve always liked kids.”

“That’s different…”

“Right. Totally different things. Got it,” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time he mentioned not wanting to settle down. At first, you had thought it was because he liked ‘keeping his options open’ like back in high-school. Or, not that you knew for sure, but if the rumors were true then it meant he slept his way around. Apparently, he never slept with someone twice and despite the cold shoulder the other party would get, all you had ever heard were praises. Not that you paid that much attention or anything.

You and Jaehyun had the same circle of friends, but despite that, he had never made any advances towards you. You’d be lying if that didn’t bother you at least once or twice. You just assumed that he didn’t want to make the friendship awkward or mess with the friend dynamics of your group. Which was why your crush on him in junior high ended as soon as you got to high-school.

You ended up going on dates with other people, but nothing that kept your interest. Nothing that compared to how you felt around him. Not that he seemed to think the same, so you tried your best to stay the good friend you always have been. You didn’t want to push something he clearly didn’t want; not that it didn’t hurt any less. Throughout the years it’s become bearable, at least. Almost like a painful habit.

You check in and head to the locker rooms to change. His nonchalance about the subject had always puzzled you. You’d seen first hand how all the female coworkers seemed to sway their hips as they walked by him, how some would pop a blouse button more than usual when around him, and you swore no one else was getting that much help throughout training more than him. He was handsome and a gentleman, that much was painfully obvious.

You meet him outside by the water fountain, “ready for warm-up?” he guides your way to the treadmills.

“When’s the last time you dated?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked to see him trip from the corner of your eye. “why the sudden curiosity?” He finally responds.

“Not sudden, I’d always wondered.” You defended. “You’re good looking and you’re very…I mean, you live on your own and have your own car. You have good relations with your family AND you’re good with kids. So, what is it?” You hadn’t realized how troubling you thought it all was. But now that you started digging you couldn’t stop.

“I just—” you pause, “it doesn’t make sense.”

You hear him chuckle, “you might wanna slow down before you pull something.” You look down and realize that your pace had gone from a relaxed jog to a borderline run during your rant. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to psychoanalyze your only friend in the city.

“Well, I just don’t know how to let people in. It’s just that.” He finally responds. “I love kids, but I don’t know or think I’d be a good partner.” He slows down before stopping, ending the conversation. He waves you off with an easy smile as you stay running.

Huh, maybe you pushed him too far. Your eyes can’t help but follow him around the gym.

Sweet and bitter chocolate, The taste at the end is always the same

Like the saddest movies, Only tears in my eyes

Your hands were sweaty the entire morning, anticipating your lunch time. It was his birthday today, and while you hadn’t made any concrete plans you ended up agreeing to go over to his place after work. Your gym bag was ready with snacks and comfy clothes to stay over. You remembered him saying he was excited to watch that new Marvel movie that had recently come out so you had bought it online to stream it at his place as a surprise. But what had you nervous was the small heart shaped box sitting in your purse. You didn’t know what possessed you to buy it but you had immediately thought of Jae when you passed by it at the mall. You remember vaguely mentioning that it was a special occasion to the sales lady (as in, his birthday), but she must have thought it was your significant other rather than friend because she changed the box to the red velvet shaped one while giving you a wink. In her defense, you could have protested but…why didn’t you?

You hear a knock on your door, “hey little miss sunshine.” Ah, Nakamoto, this couldn’t be good news. He was only sickly sweet to you when he needed a favor.

“What do you want?” you deadpan. He only laughs as he makes himself comfortable in your office. “Well, nothing in particular. Can’t stop by and see how you’re doing?” he feigns hurt.

“Right—the last time you ‘came by’ you left me working over-time through the weekend,” You sigh, “so what is it this time? Missed meeting? Late proposal?” To be fair, your supervisor WAS overworked sometimes. And since you were the only worker under him, it was normal for him to sometimes share some of the load with you.

He smiles at you, “nope. Just have a proposal for you. I know you’ve been working hard these past few months and I’ve been really impressed by your work ethic.” He stands and moves closer to your desk, “And I thought some sort of reward was in order, as well as celebration.” Ok, now you’re confused. You were ok with the reward part, it usually came in the form of a gift card to your favorite coffee shop, but celebration?

“Why would we celebrate? Did I miss something?”

“Not yet, but I did recommend you to the partner position with me. And I wanted to be the first to tell you that the boss approved it earlier today. So, what do ya say? Dinner on me?” he extends his hand out to you and wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oh.

Shit! You were hoping this would happen eventually, moving up from the entry-level position you had. But you had never thought it would be this fast. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You give him your hand and he shakes it in mock salute.

“Of course, some people will come by to move your computer to the office next to mine. You start Monday!” he winks, “So, wanna go to that new rooftop restaurant? This is a once in a life-time ticket, so you best say yes.”

But your dinner with Jae…He’ll understand, right? He has to. It’s not like he seemed that excited about it anyway. And you could always spend the day together tomorrow, too. It would be pretty rude to turn down Yuta after he pulled some strings for you…

You smile at him, “Thank you Mr. Nakamoto, I won’t let you down as a partner. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Wanna meet there?”

You sit down on the small table, now nervous for other reasons.

Jae sits opposite of you, a small smile on his face. “Hey you,” he greets.

“hey…” you start, “I hate to change plans so suddenly, but…” crap, you feel really shitty. But you really were between a rock and a hard place.

“everything ok?”

“yeah, no. I actually just got promoted,” you start.

“You did? That’s awesome! So fast, too. Wow—but shouldn’t you be more enthusiastic about it?” he chuckles.

“I am, just—my old supervisor wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. And I don’t think I could say no after helping me out like that.”

“I mean, did you want to skip it or?” Now he’s confused.

“Well, he wanted to go out tonight since I start Monday and today’s Friday…I don’t think I can come over tonight,” you explain.

Realization crosses his features before he gives a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. And he’s treating you! You don’t know when the next time he offers might be,” he continues, “we can celebrate another day anyway.”

“Are you sure?” now you feel like shit.

“Of course I’m sure.”

For the rest of the lunch, a thick silence settles before he excuses himself back to work.

Jaehyun knew this was coming. Nothing ever went his way; it’s why he kept everyone at a distance from his heart. But he was weak when it came to you. This game of push and pull was bound to keep happening, and it only brought him that all familiar foul taste in his mouth.

I know, that sweet love song, Those words of promise

When you turn around, It's just an unfamiliar someone

It was why he decided to go else-where for university, instead of joining you and some of your friends to the one closest to home. He chose to go across the globe—far, far away from the curse of you.

It had started on a windy day, back when you were 4 and new to the town he grew up in. Jaehyun didn’t want to leave his mother’s arms, he didn’t like the thought of being with strangers until later in the day even if his mom promised that she would be back. A little girl with jean overalls like his came up to him and his mom, “why are you crying?”

“I am not!” he sniffed. He didn’t need to make new friends like his mom was trying to tell him. All he needed was to go back home. You took out something from your pocket and showed it to him, “look, my mom said I could give one to my first friend. She said it was sharing. Want one?”

In her little palm, were two kiss chocolates. “You’re not my friend,” he grumbled, “I don’t know your name.” At that, you giggled, “I’m Y/N!” you took his hand and placed a chocolate there, “there, now we’re officially friends.”

“See, Jae? You can spend some time with Y/N and have fun. Before you know it, I’ll be back,” she promised.

“Yeah, Jae! Come play blocks with me, and then we can try the coloring.” You held his hand as you led him deeper into the classroom. Just like that, Jae began to feel a little warmth in his chest. He didn’t mind that his favorite thing to do was play tag outside or that he wasn’t really good at coloring inside lines yet. But that didn’t matter to him. As long as he had this one friend around, he was content.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up as a small flame

Looking back at it now, it was a little funny. All it took to let you in back then was a simple chocolate kiss and your little sticky hand in his leading the way. You were always larger than life to him, sometimes he forgot that you were just as human as him.

As you two continued to grow, nothing seemed to change your friendship. But he knew that the depth of his feelings wasn’t mutual. It was in the way that you brought a lot different people together and decided to call it your family. Another of your friends, Jungwoo, liked to joke that you collected introverts for fun. To Jaehyun, it was more likely that you just didn’t see the fun in leaving people out. You were charming and passionate. Traits he wished he had. Your empathetic nature and gentle disposition were all that Jaehyun needed, even if he wasn’t the only recipient.

Once you guys started to hit puberty, things started to feel rocky. Jaehyun couldn’t help but physically distance himself from you, his ears were always red-hot. You had always been pretty to Jaehyun, but you were starting to become really beautiful. And if the boy’s locker rooms’ talk were anything to go by, then other people were definitely starting to realize “what a great catch” you were.

It really pissed him off. Who were they to say things as if all you were was a piece of meat? It disgusted him. But what disgusted him more was the fact that sometimes, he couldn’t help but also feel the way your body felt in his when you hugged in greeting. He hated the way his body reacted to everything you did.

He first messed around with a senior girl back when he was a sophomore, Sooyoung. She was leaving and he couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend was a piece of trash and he was tired of hearing the way he would share what Jae considered to be intimate moments that had no business being public. But you seemed so happy… that next game, Jae stole the ball from him and scored on his own. Even if it cost him a three hour lecture from the coach, he would do it again. Fuck being a team, that guy was an asshole.

What he hadn’t planned on was liking messing around. He would never admit it, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because he couldn’t get rid of that small grain of hope that glowed in his chest every time you stared at him longer than would be deemed normal. It wasn’t often, but he knew he wasn’t seeing things. So, he succumbed to the cycle of push-and-pull that you guys had going on.

Jaehyun wasn’t blind, he knew that your work definitely spoke of your professionalism, but he’s also seen the way Nakamoto stared after you. Of the way his hand would often touch your waist when walking together. Even now, as he hears you apologize through the phone again as you get ready for your “date” with him he can’t help this heart feel heavy with anger. Anger at himself, for letting you slip away once more. He usually hopes for nothing but the best for you, but this time, he wishes you had an awful dinner.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I don't believe in romance

I'm afraid that after burning my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes

Throughout the entire dinner, you can’t seem to get Jae out of your mind. It keeps you from enjoying the delicious food, keeps you from keeping your usual banter with Nakamoto.

You’re about to call it a night and thank Nakamoto for inviting you out when he beats you to it, “damn, I was hoping this might be a good break from the usual overtime we do, but something tells me your mind has been elsewhere,” he offers good naturedly, “I know it’s valentine’s, so maybe this is why we feel so awkward, right?”.

You grimace a bit at that, “ah—I’m sorry. I really am grateful for the way you look after me in the company and I’m also thankful for this lovely dinner,” you stop a bit, afraid you might offend him, “I agreed to come out tonight, so no need to feel awkward.” You offer a smile.

“Alright then. I guess you already have your sights on someone?” he prods. Should you be honest? There was no rule against dating outside your department, and you were pretty sure your new boss’s wife also worked within the company. “…I do. But I’m pretty sure they don’t feel the same way. It’s been so long since we’ve known each other. Surely if something were to have happened, it would have by now.” You were loosening up, definitely the wine’s fault.

Nakamoto sighs at that, “damn, and here I thought I could woo you after this,” he winks jokingly but you laugh him off. You knew he didn’t care for you that way. “I really hope you’re talking about the guy you always eat lunch with. I swear everyone thought you guys were married when you were released from training.”

“What?! No, I—we’ve been friends since we were children—”

“Aha! So it was him then,” he smirks. “Good.”

You groan, “Please, no.”

“What, it’s not him? You sure about that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” you groan. Why were you discussing your love life? You push the wine away and take a sip of your water.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. Could have sworn that guy was after you.” He stands up. “But fine, I’ll stop prodding.”

You sigh in relief—“for now.” You groan. “What do you even mean by that? You don’t even know him. Or me, or at least personally at least.”

“Mmm, I don’t have to. Some things you just know. Like how he wishes I was six feet under every time we run across him at work,” he sobers up at that. “He seemed like a cool dude, but his glare isn’t too friendly. I don’t know how you fell for that.”

You scoff, “just because someone has a resting bitch face doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.”

You both make your way to the underground parking. “You’re right, it just makes them unapproachable. Is that why you won’t confess?” His genuine tone rubs you the wrong way, you don’t need be given false hope.

“Stop it, you said you would drop it,” you frown, “Anyways, thank you for the food boss—”

“—not your boss anymore. Just call me Yuta, we’re partners now.”

“Aren’t you two years older than me?”

“And?”

You shrug at that, “well, thanks Yuta. For the food, not for the interrogation.” He chuckles at that, nodding while pulling out his car keys. “see you Monday!” he waves you off.

You sigh as you get home. It wasn’t as late as you thought it was, only a few minutes past nine. You really wanted to see him. Would he be busy?

You fish out your phone and dial his number before chickening out.

“Hello?”

“Jae! It’s me. Are you busy right now?” your heartbeat is pounding so loud, you’re scared he could hear it on the other end. “Right now?” you hear shuffling on the other end, “no, I was just reading that book Jungwoo sent me. Might have dozed off a bit into it but don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles.

“Why, is everything ok? It’s still early, did you end dinner that fast?”

“Oh, Yuta and I called it a night pretty early. Too many couples were out and about and it got a bit awkward,” you explained.

“Yuta?”

“Ah, yes. Yuta Nakamoto, but now that we’re associates, he said it would be better to address him less formally.” You waive him off, “actually, I was wondering—if it’s not too late, can I still come over? If not, that’s cool. We can still hang out tomorrow, but your birthday is today and I thought—”

He laughs at your rambles, “of course you can come over, you know you don’t have to ask. How many times have I told you that?”

“Ok, ok. Just checking,” you still had your comfy change of clothes in your car, so you opt to save those for tomorrow and change into something causal for tonight.

“Do you want me to go get you? We can get ice cream on the way, hopefully they don’t close early.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” curse your heart for melting at everything he says.

“Alright, give me 15 and I’ll be there.” He hangs up.

You look at your bag, resting on your sofa and you sigh. The entire night, it’s almost as if you could feel the weight of his gift weighing it down. Yuta is known for being very observant, it’s why he was so good at his job. Closing deals and making contracts in advertisement. Would he be right about this? You know you desperately wish he was, but is it worth risking your best friend?

EndNote | Woooow, that was a longass ride. Let me know if you liked it or if there are other typos I missed! Or just to let me know what you thought, that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking of finishing it by Sunday 6/13, so hopefully the next part is up by then. Until then!

Here's Part 2!

[pink-flame]

14 and 69 for Juke 😊

So I’m pretty sure I was only supposed to describe how I would write these combinations but where’s the fun in that? So I just went ahead and wrote it. Also someone else requested one that includes the bodyguard prompt so there will be a part 2 soonish. Enjoy! 💜

Bodyguard AU + Flirting under fire

Julie sighed for the third time in the last two minutes.

“Can you stop that?”

The exasperated voice expressing annoyance with her impatience was her best friend/assistant Alex. They’d been best friends since middle school and when Julie’s music career started to take off everyone had tried to convince them that working together was a disaster waiting to happen. She had worked herself up over how her being his boss would ruin everything until she finally told him how worried she was.

“Won’t you feel, I don’t know demeaned, being my assistant?”

“Jules, I’ll be assisting you to survive which you’ll never do without me. Stop overthinking.”

And five years later she was a lot better at that. She was a 22 year old successful musician, her second album and first national tour right around the corner. Unlike when they were 17 she had learned her best results always came when she was able to listen to her instincts and go with the flow.

Unless she was waiting in the lobby of her label waiting for her new bodyguard to show up. A bodyguard who was officially late, a fact that she didn’t hesitate to inform Alex of.

“By like 2 minutes, chill,” He insisted, tapping away on his phone probably arranging the rest of her day as his thumbs flew over the screen.

“Alex, if my bodyguard is late I could end up dead,” She reminded him.

“Someone’s feeling dramatic today,” Alex looked up and nodded toward the other side of the lobby. “Maybe that’s him.”

Julie turned to look and instantly shook her head.

“No way. There’s no such thing as a cute bodyguard.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at her confident statement.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a harmful bodyguard stereotype.”

Julie wasn’t so sure. In her experience bodyguards tended to be stoic, middle aged men built like linebackers. This guy on the other hand was young, probably within a year or two of her, with shaggy hair and a bouncy energy visible even from across the room. It was true that even through his vintage band tee she could see that he was kind of ridiculously muscular but so was her personal trainer and she wouldn’t want Dante standing between her and a crazed stalker.

She stood by her first assessment though. He was definitely cute.

He was also looking around the room, his eyes landing on her and a perfect smile stretching across his face.

“You’re uh, not bodyguard is heading this way,” Alex observed.

Julie could see that.

“Are you Julie Molina?” He asked as he came to a stop directly in front of her. “I’m Luke, your new bodyguard. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re my new bodyguard?” She repeated incredulously. “And you’re not sure who I am?”

Luke shrugged, his smile seemingly unaffected by her borderline rude response.

“I was pretty sure. And your label wanted to hire someone who could blend in more easily, offer you some protection without ruining your image as approachable.”

“Oh,” Julie turned to Alex who was watching the exchange with interest. “Did you know about this?”

Her best friend smirked.

“They may have mentioned something.”

Julie was starting to feel as though she had been set up. She turned back to Luke who was still rocking slightly on his heels, standing still not seeming to be his thing. He really did not seem like the type who could intimidate an attacker but he did seem like the type who would be really distracting to have standing around if he was going to keep smiling at her like that.

So she was in trouble in multiple ways.

She did her best to keep her face neutral when she spoke again.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Luke. Everyone on my team is hired on a trial basis, so we’ll see how it goes ok?”

Luke reached up to salute.

“Ok, boss. Where we headed?”

Julie definitely did not find his insistence on being casual paired with that hard to place accent attractive. Definitely not.

Lucky for her, his attractiveness was soon offset by his ability to drive her absolutely crazy. Other than Alex he was by her side more than anyone over the next few months. He followed her to recording sessions, he followed her to music video shoots, and he followed her to fan meet and greets. But he was expected to follow her on personal excursions too and he seemed incapable of doing so silently. He made running commentary on the groceries she bought (always late at night to lower the chances of being recognized). He gave her unsolicited tips on what weights she should be lifting while she worked out. And worst of all was his insistence on giving her unasked for feedback on her music.

He wasn’t familiar with her work at all, or at least he never showed a hint of recognition when she brought up her previous songs or album. But he had a lot of opinions on what she was working on now.

“You know if you added some echoes in the chorus that song could be sick,” He remarked one day as he escorted her home after a long studio session.

Julie groaned and let her head flop back on the seat of the car they were currently being driven in.

“And you know your job is to keep me alive, not actually to critique my musical choices, right?”

He shrugged.

“I’m a good multitasker.”

And the most annoying part was he was always right. At least about the music. He seemed to always sense when she was stuck and somehow pipe up with the exact thing she needed to hear to get the music flowing again. Suggesting a tweak to a lyric or humming a guitar riff he thought she should try. It got to the point where she sometimes sought out his opinion before he could offer it on his own. He was clearly a musician as well as the world’s most unorthodox bodyguard.

He made her a better writer and if the way he grinned when he particularly liked one of her ideas was any indication, she thought she might make him better too.

She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud though.

So they went on like that for a few more months. Julie never brought up his trial period again and he continued to both annoy and intrigue her daily. So far he hadn’t actually had to do much protecting though. He had helped her escape a few overly excited twelve year olds once but that was about it.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie had heard plenty of stories about celebrities whose over enthusiastic fans had crossed the line to full on stalking. She just never thought it would happen to her. She always felt so close to her fans, so connected by the music she made for them. But when she came home one day and found the door to her condo ajar she realized she may have been a little naive.

She knew she should wait for Luke, he had been held up in the lobby checking in with the building security but he should be right behind her. He always did a sweep before leaving her for the evening. But it wouldn’t be the first time she had neglected to lock her own door when she left. She had so much on her mind right now. Maybe...maybe she had left it open?

She had the whole top floor of the building to herself, you needed a special key to even get up here in the elevator. It was hard to believe someone else had managed that.

Julie eased through the slightly open door and hesitated a few steps inside. Everything seemed normal maybe…

Then she heard it. Someone was in her bedroom and it sounded like they were going through her drawers. Her stomach sank. Should she run for the door? Or would that alert whoever was in there and send them after her?

Suddenly there was a presence behind her and Julie was just on the brink of letting out an involuntary yell when a familiar hand came down to grip her shoulder.

“Shhh,” Luke whispered directly into her ear. “Come on.”

He guided her backwards to one of her closets and pulled them inside quickly, somehow managing to pull the door closed behind them soundlessly. Julie’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she tried to keep her breathing silent. Luke positioned himself between her and the closet door, keeping one hand on her shoulder and the other resting over his belt.

Did he have a knife hidden under that band tee? A gun? Why had she never asked any questions about how exactly he was prepared to protect her before?

Still. She had to admit she felt as safe with him as she would with anyone. All of the characteristic movement she associated with Luke had drained out of him, leaving him incredibly still but still thrumming with focused energy. He was listening at the door and she could see his brain cycling through calculations of what he would do next. She had a sudden fear of him leaving her, even if it was in an attempt to defend her.

She reached out without thinking and grabbed for his hand that had been resting on her shoulder and wrapped it in hers, holding on for dear life.

He glanced back at their linked hands and then up to her face offering her a soft smile that felt more like the Luke she knew. Somehow just that was enough to let her breaths come a little easier.

“You’re ok,” He whispered.

She nodded but didn’t drop his hand.

“Did you see them? Are they armed?”

He nodded once and Julie swallowed hard.

“Just stay put for a second,” Luke whispered again. “Backup is on the way and I’ve got you.”

Julie nodded. She believed him.

She focused on keeping her breathing steady and quiet. Soon she had calmed down enough to realize just how close they were to each other. It was a small closet just meant to toss a coat or two into when you walked in the door. Julie considered herself lucky that she hadn’t gotten around to putting anything in this particular closet or she would have been smothered by fabric right now. As it stood she was seated on the ground pressed directly up against Luke where he crouched against the door, their bodies touching in just about every way they could be.

This was not the time to be thinking about how big his eyes looked from this close or how those little bits of his hair that flipped up were tickling her cheek or how he smelled really, really good.

It wasn’t the time but that didn’t stop her from thinking about all of it.

Fear did strange things to people, ok?

Only it wasn’t just the fear because she had definitely noticed all of those things before. They just hadn’t been quite so in her face. Literally.

“Thanks,” He whispered, amusement clear in his hushed tone.

Julie snapped back to reality.

“For what?” She whispered back.

“You said I smell good. Really, really good,” He replied leaning in even closer so he could say it directly into her ear.

Julie froze in mortification.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“No, that didn’t happen.”

He leaned back as far as he could go which wasn’t far and smiled before reaching up with his free hand to push a curl away from her face.

“Whatever you say, boss,” He said with his most annoying smirk.

Only she wasn’t annoyed. At all.

Trouble.

She had known he would be trouble.

Suddenly a floorboard creaked directly in front of the closet and Julie dropped his hand so she could slap her own over her mouth and muffle the whimper that tried to escape.

Luke was suddenly all business again, raising his finger to shush her before reaching for the door handle. Before she could react he had yanked the door open and was leaping out.

Julie thought she might have screamed but she wasn’t sure. She heard a scuffle but kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid to open them and see Luke hurt and her stalker coming straight for her.

A few long seconds later she heard the sound of the police arriving at the same time that a hand landed softly on her arm. She flinched slightly and opened her eyes to see Luke staring down at her, thoroughly out of breath but seemingly unscathed.

“You ok?” He asked.

She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her out of the closet. Thankfully the police had already hauled away whoever had been in her apartment but there were a couple of officers taking notes and speaking into their radios.

One approached them where Luke was keeping her upright with an arm around her shoulder.

“You’re a very lucky lady, Miss Molina. He was unarmed and your boyfriend had him in a heck of a headlock when we got here.”

Julie blushed.

“He’s not my...wait. The guy was unarmed?”

She looked up at Luke with a look that clearly demanded answers.

“He had a pen,” He shrugged as though the significance should have been obvious.

It was not.

“A pen?” She repeated. “You made me think he had a gun!”

“Hey, do you know how many ways someone can kill you with a pen?” Luke insisted. “Spoiler alert, it’s a lot.”

The cop looked back and forth between them with confused amusement.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it. We’ll check in with your building security and try to figure out how he got in. In the meantime you might want to look into hiring some protection.”

Julie felt Luke bristle next to her and couldn’t help but smile smugly.

“You’re right, I might.”

Then they were alone and Luke was moving through each room, checking for himself to see that everything was as it should be.

Eventually on his third check, Julie grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

“Thank you, Luke. For everything. As much as it pains me to say it...you were amazing today.”

He grinned, and suddenly he was the Luke who followed her around and annoyed her with how right he was about everything again.

“Yeah, well, you’re amazing everyday, Boss. So I guess we’re even.”

Julie could feel herself blushing again.

Trouble.

She was in so much trouble.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Six (part 1)

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: ANGST, bad language words

A/N: Tumblr sucks. It forced me to split this chapter up because I exceeded the text block limit. That’s just how I write! Link to part 2 at the end.

A/N 2: Thank you again to everyone for showing this story so much love! And thank you to everyone for your patience and support as I struggled to put this out. As you can tell from the multiple parts, it was a doozy. 🥰 divider credit- @firefly-graphics​

In case you missed the update, I will be publishing a new chapter every other Saturday from here on out. Schedule is in the Masterlist in my header.

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Monday morning rolled around, and your good mood from the weekend followed you into the office. Spending all of Saturday and the majority of Sunday texting James had lent to this early morning cheerfulness. You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You had even managed to arrive before most of your team.  

You hummed a sweet melody as you booted up your computer and organized a few files for Timmons to peruse. They were statements intended for the press needing his approval about a particular prominent CEO or A-list celebrity client. The firm was not confirming nor denying any knowledge of said client’s whereabouts the previous week or why there was photographic evidence of them coming out of FlashDancers NYC. Other files included those seeking rebranding approval for existing companies looking to revamp their image.

Most importantly, today was contract signing day for Stark Industries. 

You had compiled the document from a generic template the company used for all its clients, manually plugging in Stark Industries’ information in the correct spots and changing or omitting any services rendered or not. E-signing contracts were not only environmentally responsible, but they also saved a lot of your time from printing out numerous copies of a single agreement.

All you needed now was Timmons’ go-ahead to email the contract, and Pepper Potts could plug in her Jane Hancock.

Seeing Timmons enter the workroom, tweed coat draped over his forearm and attaché in hand, you rose from the seat behind your desk. You shuffled into his office after him.

He hung his jacket from the coat rack in the corner near a bank of expansive windows and placed the small, leather case he’d been carrying on the sturdy oak desk. He pulled out a stack of papers and tapped the pile against the desktop to straighten them before setting them down. Looking up at you briefly, he tugged out his laptop next.

You positioned a mug of coffee on Timmons’ desk, turning the handle just so, making it easier for him to grab. You cleared your throat gently. He glanced up at you again.

“Here’s the media statements for today,” you said, handing him a group of manila folders. You smoothed down the hem of your cardigan, smiling at the reminder of Bucky. You wished there had been a way to apologize to him again. He had left your apartment with such a pained look on his face. Maybe you could ask Peter. “And the Stark contract pdf is ready to go. I can email it over to you for final approval.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Timmons replied absent-mindedly, lifting the organized piles on the desk as if looking for something.

“Oh, okay,” you returned, nodding your head diminutively. “Do you want me to forward the contract on to Ms. Potts, then?”

“Ah-ha!” Timmons exclaimed, plucking a pen from underneath a stack of envelopes. He twirled the writing implement in his hand and peered at you, finally taking in your presence for the first time that morning.

An uncomfortable feeling washed over you as he evaluated you from head to toe. What was he looking at? Your hands tensed into fists as you continued to wait for his answer, growing impatient.

“Should I go ahead and do that, then, sir?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest like a protective suit of armor to deflect prying eyes.

“Yes, yes. That should be acceptable,” Timmons answered.

It threw you off balance. What had gotten into him? Timmons always had to have the final say on everything. It was so unlike him!

“Just so we’re clear- I will be sending the Stark Industries contract via email to Pepper Potts to e-sign,” you said, seeking clarification. You wanted to dot all i’s and cross all t’s because you weren’t going to lay your ass on the line for a misunderstanding. Especially not with something as crucial as the Stark Industries account.

“What? No, there’s been a change of plans,” he corrected.

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he purposely trying to give you mental whiplash?

“Change of plans,” you affirmed. “Has Stark Industries decided not to use the firm, sir?”

“Oh, no. They’re still going with us,” Timmons said, rearranging the clutter he’d made on his desk.

You dropped your arms to your sides, although inside, you felt like throwing them into the air in frustration. Why was he so vague? He was usually wholly transparent with you. “Would you mind explaining it to me, please?” you asked, borderline annoyed. “Last time I checked, Stark Industries’ contract signing was still on the calendar for today’s agenda.”

“And it still is,” Timmons acknowledged. “It’s moved to an in-person signing.”

Your stomach plunged to the floor. Shit! You hadn’t printed out the contract! When was the appointment? How much time did you have? So many questions flew through your head.

How could Timmons keep something like this from you? Your heart hammered in your chest. You practically wobbled on your feet. Were you going to be sick?

I’m going to get fucking fired over this, you thought, trying to steady your breathing.

“Will you be ready to go in twenty minutes?” Timmons questioned, sitting down in the comfy desk chair and opening his laptop.

“Go?” you squeaked, attempting to recall how much you had in savings. You shook your head, trying to understand his words. Was he already asking you to clear out your desk?

“Yes. The car will be here at nine,” he said, keyboard clacking as he typed something.

“Car?” you asked, finding great difficulty comprehending the situation. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Timmons regarded you in bafflement. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? NO!” you declared. You didn’t need that added to “the inability to perform required tasks” as a reason for your firing.  “I’m-I’m just really confused, sir.”

“About what?” Timmons asked, sitting back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“Well…” you started. “What do we need a car for?”

His chocolate brown eyes shone with what you imagined might be excitement. “To drive upstate, of course.” He smirked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desktop.

Upstate? What was upstate?

Timmons’ smile broadened as realization crept across your face. “Are we-”

“Yup!” he interrupted gleefully. He was like a child in a candy store. “We are headed to the Avengers Compound with a personal invitation from Tony Stark himself!”

You blinked several times at your boss, not entirely computing what he’d said. You were usually a lot quicker on the uptake than this. Why were you having such an off-day? 

“We?” you asked, shaking your head clear of the cobwebs. Why on Earth would he bring you along?

“I need someone who knows the ins and outs of these contract signings,” he said, fiddling with his pen again.

Wasn’t that his job?

“I’m just the schmoozer- the people-person,” he admitted, shrugging. “You’re the real brains behind this whole operation.

You nodded your head in agreement. He wasn’t wrong. The office would collectively collapse without you, and it felt good to hear your actual boss say it out loud.

“You better not forget it, either. Especially when my job performance evaluation comes around,” you asserted.

Timmons swiftly saluted you as if he was the subordinate. You huffed a laugh at him while shaking your head with incredulity. You took a step or two toward the office door before looking over your shoulder at him.

Timmons had turned back to his laptop screen already and started typing again. “So, twenty minutes?” he asked with an air of levity.

You faltered, nearly tripping over your feet. “Wait? You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Timmons wondered, looking up hurriedly from his laptop.

“I need to print out the contract and make copies, for one thing,” you mentioned, almost accusatory. Maybe if he had warned you ahead of time, you wouldn’t be so defensive.

“Already taken care of,” he soothed.

“What do you mean it’s ‘already taken care of’?” you asked, raising your hands to make quotation marks with your fingers.

“I had one of the other grunts do it last night.”

You gaped at Timmons like a goldfish, mouth popping open and closed. Did you hear him correctly? Timmons did something to make your job easier? You could hug him right now! You felt like pinching yourself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Once you gathered your wits again, you glanced to your feet bashfully. “Oh,” you spoke, absently fingering the bottom button of your cardigan. “Thank you.” You smiled gratefully.

Timmons returned the smile with one of his own. “You’re welcome.”

“Nine o’clock, then,” you agreed, moving further toward the doorway.

“On the dot!”

Words couldn’t even begin to describe the Avengers Compound. You’d seen it on the news, sure, but that didn’t compare to seeing it in real life. It was grandiose, imposing. You felt dwarfed in size looking up to the high rooftop. 

It was almost ostentatious in a way. Much like the man who designed it. Larger than life.

Tony Stark.

Tony had insisted he take you and Timmons around on the tour of the compound. You still hadn’t seen the need for a tour.

“When Tony Stark invites you to tour the Avengers compound, you don’t say no,” Timmons had said in the car-ride up when you questioned why it was necessary.

It was all superfluous, really. Like Tony was trying to woo the firm to sign them, not the other way around.

A headache was forming at the base of your skull as you waited in line at the reception desk to return your visitor security badge.

The tour of the facility seemed to have been drug out longer than it needed. Tony had appeared overeager to show off every little gadget or trinket. Or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

When Timmons excepted the lunch invitation after the tour was completed, you felt the urge to run down to the armory, grab a gun, and shoot yourself in the foot. You were kicking yourself for ever agreeing to come on this dumb tour.

As the line slowly dragged forward, the muffled noise of men’s voices caught your ear. It sounded like an argument. Your line of sight followed to where the altercation originated.

Standing twenty feet away was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, clearly disagreeing.

Your breath stilled as you watched the two super soldiers quarrel in a near-stage-whisper. What could they be fighting about?

From your place in line, you saw Bucky shake his head adamantly, his chestnut hair swishing about his shoulders. He might have even stamped his foot like a child, but you were too preoccupied with the look of abject horror on his face. He turned away as if to flee, but his friend caught him by the shoulder to stop him.

Were you causing this reaction from him?

You looked to your right to see if there was possibly someone else. All you noticed, though, was an empty space. Had you hurt Bucky’s feelings that badly? Your stomach clenched. The last thing you wanted was to be on an Avengers’ shit-list.

Glancing back to the two men, you caught Steve gesturing Bucky forward with short sweeping motions of his hands. Bucky shook his head again, stubbornly.

Even at this distance, you could feel the frustration rolling off Captain America.

Like a sucker-punch to the gut, you suddenly became very aware you were eavesdropping on Captain America and his best friend.

Your cheeks heated instantaneously, embarrassed of your staring. You shouldn’t be spying on them, you admonished. No matter how much your curiosity is piqued. 

It was none of your business.

You turned away from them, facing the reception desk again.

As hard as you tried not to pay attention, you could still see what looked like wild gesturing from the corner of your eye.

What if they started fighting? Shouldn’t you be conscious of your surroundings for your own safety? You fidgeted in your spot as you debated your moral compass.

Fuck it, you thought.

As you peered over to the two super soldiers, Steve shoved Bucky forward gently, causing the latter to trip over his booted feet. Bucky glared back at his friend, his hands clenching into fists. Steve shooed him further. You could barely make out the word “Go!” on his lips.

As if in slow motion, you eyed Bucky taking step after step toward you. Was he coming over here?

Once you realized what was happening, your heart plummeted to your knees as your head whipped around to the front of the line.

Bucky Barnes was definitely walking over to you. 

Had he noticed you staring?

You tried to stabilize your heart rate with slow, easy breaths, but Bucky was beside you much sooner than you could imagine.

A waft of aftershave hit your nose- woodsy and deliciously masculine. Your stomach swooped.

God, he smelled good.

Without having to turn your head, you could feel his brawny mass hovering near you.

How do you play this?

Perplexed? 

“Oh, my gosh! I had no idea you’d be here!” Of course, he wouldn’t believe that. This is where the Avengers lived. He’d probably think you were a stalker.

Apologetic?

“I’m so sorry Peter and I made fun of you! Will you ever forgive me?” Nah, too needy or clingy.

Or--

Before you could think of any other ways to portray the situation, you heard a large gush of air escape from Bucky. Was he nervous?

“Hey-hey, (Y/N),” he said, voice shaky.

You gazed to your left. Bucky looked as white as a ghost. Had his ego taken that big of a hit?

At that moment, you wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and tell him sorry, and everything would be okay. You couldn’t, of course. You didn’t know the guy. So you settled for the next best thing.

You smiled at him beatifically. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

Like a veil had been pulled, his demeanor changed instantly. He returned the smile. “Ja-” he started but scrunched his nose as if he’d made a mistake. “Please. Call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you replied.

Timmons turned around, ahead of you in line, and eyeballed you. You gave him a dismissive look, praying he wouldn’t butt in.

“So, you here visiting?” Bucky asked, observing the badge in your hand.

“Sorta. It’s a work thing,” you remarked, waving the plastic fob in the air. “Stark Industries has hired my firm as their PR representative. It was signing day.”

“Ah,” Bucky said, nodding in understanding.

“And I got the tour and lunch courtesy of Tony Stark,” you added.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised in interest. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You watched Bucky shake his head in agreement. “It was extremely overwhelming. How do you not get lost in this place?”

Bucky laughed. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes, yet he looked so boyish. He was beautiful.

“When I first got here, I did several times,” he huffed. “Every hallway looks exactly the same!”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I kept thanking my lucky stars that I had a tour guide!” 

Timmons rolled his eyes and pivoted, facing front.

“Steve had to draw me a map to help me find my living quarters after the third time,” Bucky confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, no!” you empathized, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “That must have been so embarrassing!”

“Bird brain caught wind of it and gave me shit for weeks,” he lamented.

You gave him a confused look, not understanding who or what he was referring to.

Realizing his mistake, Bucky corrected, “Sorry. Bird brain is Sam.”

“Because he’s Falcon?”

Bucky bobbed his head yes, looking a little sheepish.

“It’s clever,” you grinned. “I like it.”

Bucky reciprocated the smile, and your chest warmed. It was a feeling you usually felt while texting James. Light and airy.

Finally making it to the reception desk, you relinquished your security badge to the pretty blonde in the too-tight sweater set. She handed you a clipboard to initial and fill out your departure time.

While signing, you surveyed the blonde as Bucky stepped closer. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Was she giving him bedroom eyes?

A new kind of warmth flooded your body. It felt a lot like jealousy as it snaked its way up to your ribs and circled your collarbones, which was absurd because you had no claim to this man. You’d met him one other time. Why would you feel this way?

Shoving the clipboard back at the receptionist, you spun toward Bucky. He regarded her politely and nodded, “Ma’am.”

Her shoulders slumped, and a frown slithered onto her painted lips. Somehow you felt triumphant, but not sure why. Bucky hadn’t picked you over her.

Your heart thumped harder in your chest as you walked side by side with Bucky, nearing the exit. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling of apologizing. What had you told James if you ever saw Bucky again? Apologize profusely and ask him to coffee.

You smiled at Bucky once again as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The sound of a throat clearing resonated nearby. It wasn’t until you glanced up did you register Timmons standing so close. You had nearly forgotten about him.

Trying to gather your courage, you glimpsed between the two men. Bucky was squinting suspiciously at Timmons, and it made you chuckle lightly. “Easy tiger,” you assured. “That’s my boss, Roger Timmons.”

Bucky’s blue eyes widened a fraction, and he raised a hand in hello. “Sir.”

Timmons raised his chin in acknowledgment before looking down at his watch. You took it as his way of telling you to hurry up.

Okay, it’s now or never.

“Would you like to go to coffee with me?” Bucky blurted out, cheeks coloring pink.

Your eyes roamed across his handsome face. The boyishness was back, along with a touch of uncertainty. He was sweet, regardless of what the media claimed about him. Your lips curled up into a broad smile. “You read my mind,” you revealed, then winced. “That’s not one of your superpowers, is it?”

Bucky tittered. “No, no mind-reading.”

“Good,” you said, relieved.

“Whaddya say? Coffee?”

You dipped your head in a slow yes. “It’ll have to be after work, though.” You motioned over your shoulder with your thumb. “The slave driver over there is taking me back to the office to put me to work.”

Giggling, as you heard a scoff come from behind where you were standing, you reached into your purse and pulled out a pen and an old receipt. You quickly jotted down your work address. Handing it to Bucky, you began moving towards Timmons. “I get off at five,” you called. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” You waved goodbye.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t work too hard!”

You flashed him one last smile before disappearing through the exit door.

You had a coffee date with Bucky Barnes!

You couldn’t believe it! The giddiness swelled inside you.

You gazed at Timmons’ profile as you walked to the waiting car parked at the curb. He had that look on his face.

It was a long drive back to the city. There was no way you could endure it if he started up now.

You gave a stern look before you stated, “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself.”

Timmons threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Uh-huh,” you said dubiously. Timmons smiled smugly as you both climbed into the town car.

Chapter Five | Chapter 6 (part 2)

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[justmaybee]

The Phantom’s New Clothes

(Alternatively: ‘I Like Ya Fit, G!’)

A/N: Yes, the spam is gonna end in a dumb fic. No, I’m not confident in posting it. But honestly? I don’t think I’ll ever be when it comes to Fling Posse. So I’m doing it anyways! Because Gen looks like a whole prince, and if I don’t start somewhere I’ll never be able to write them!

Summary: Fling Posse photo shoot time! ~ ☆ and Dice has taken a special interest in Gentaro’s outfit for the day….

Of the many things required by divisions during battle season, one ‘checkpoint’—so to speak—is the creation of promotional materials. A Chuohku-designated event, ‘asked’ of the representative teams from each district.

This is Fling Posse’s second time representing Shibuya, so Gentaro is more or less acquainted with the roadmap ahead of them. And as a group member—and friend—of one Ramuda Amemura, he’s quite used to the mild discomfort of modeling clothes far outside his comfort zone.

Though it had at first been a point of contention in the group—due to some very polarized creative decisions—Gentaro has grown into his role, just a bit. He may never go so far as to call himself a ‘model,’ but he’s done much stranger tasks for the sake of his posse.

Thankfully, this shoot leans decidedly into Gentaro’s style of choice. Unlike Ramuda’s last artistic venture, which had involved a bright yellow top in an aquarium of all settings, this outfit could be described as almost tame in comparison.

The blouse is a loose and flowing white number, tucked into a similar style of black pants. A little tighter to his waist than he’d prefer, but the fabric is soft and stretches down to his ankle—for the most part—so it’ll do. The addition of some colored cords to secure an ash grey cape around his shoulders finishes the look, and Gentaro hums an appreciative note when Ramuda shows him the full look in a mirror.

Ramuda seemed pleased, smoothing out Gentaro’s cape and tucking stubborn hairs back into place before flashing him a grin and bouncing off to help Dice finish dressing.

It’s comfortable, fashionable, and well-suited to his tastes. Gentaro must say, it’s one of his favorite designs from Ramuda so far.

That being said—there’s…one small thing he could recommend be changed.

It doesn’t occur to him until the picture taking is about to begin.

———

“Ya think Ramuda will let me keep it?” Dice asks, impish grin flashing his canine. He pops the collar, striking small poses as the dressing room around them clears out. Gentaro humors him.

He takes his time, stepping forward from behind Dice, peering over his shoulder at their shared reflection. His hand comes to rest on his chin, scrutinizing the tropical pattern with a deliberate trail of the eyes. He continues until Dice’s gaze lowers, until his hands start fidgeting in front of him.

Gentaro finally breaks with a smile, resting his chin on Dice’s shoulder. He can feel the way Dice sags with relief.

“It’s very likely that he will,” Gentaro muses. “This outfit was made specifically for you, and I’m not sure anyone else would wear it willingly.”

Dice nods in a small repetitive motion, absentmindedly checking his reflection in the mirror. The moment he comes to recognize Gentaro’s backhanded confirmation is both visible and audible. His body jolting upright with a pitchy ‘hey!’ tossed back over his shoulder. Gentaro hides a smile behind his hand.

“Oh, Dice. There’s no need to be insecure,” He coos. “From what I’ve heard, sustainable fashion is on the rise! This set may have been a curtain at some point, but your confidence in it is very admirable.”

Dice has that tight-lipped smile on, the one that pushes his cheeks up and makes his squinty faux-glare even more endearing. It says, ‘I know I’m being made fun of,’ but he continues to endure it anyways. Because it makes Gentaro smile.

Still, he’s come a long way since the early days of Fling Posse, and he won’t take things lying down if he can help it. So he sneaks his hand behind him, aiming a light pinch to Gentaro’s side; his comeback of choice since learning of Gentaro’s…sensitivity.

Unlike those recent times, Gentaro quickly back steps, pulling his head off Dice’s shoulder to smother a gasp behind a well-timed fist. Dice blinks, hand still hovering behind him in the empty air where Gentaro once stood.

Then he spins around; the biggest, toothy grin on his face.

Gentaro can feel the butterflies slowly flutter to life in his stomach. His free arm moves subconsciously, to wrap around his front and hide his torso. The longer they hold eye contact, the more his face begins to burn.

And then the photographer can be heard, calling Dice for photos.

They stay in place, gazes locked for a moment longer; then Dice shoots him a wink and jogs off.

Gentaro breathes a shaky sigh, rubbing away the phantom touch.

———

So yes, while it was obvious the outfit had less layers than Gentaro was accustomed to, he hadn’t realized just how much thinner the layers he wore were.

Photo shoots don’t have a lot of downtime, in his experience. There’s always group shots, touch ups, individual shots. While it’s undoubtedly ‘Posse Time’—as Ramuda would put it—he doesn’t get more than a passing word to either of his group mates at any one time.

Which make the times he runs into Dice all the more memorable.

Slipping past one another in the hallway when it’s Gentaro’s turn for solo shots. Gentaro feels a distinct skittering of nails over his flank. It has him stumbling, tripping on his own feet. He can hear Dice laugh as he straightens up and continues walking.

Getting his hair touched up, making sure his pesky bangs stay out of his face. Dice comes to watch for a while, leaving Gentaro with a quick pinch either side of his waist. He jolts so hard, the hair on his left side falls out of place. He mumbles an apology to the poor stylist, eyeing Dice’s retreating smile in the mirror.

In a moment to himself, Gentaro tries to retuck his blouse, smooth out the uneven bunching of ruffles. He doesn’t notice when Dice slips behind him, when he grips onto Gentaro’s hips—too easily accessible through these pants—and squeezes. Gentaro yelps, drops to a crouch to dislodge the ticklish pulses. When he turns with narrowed-eyes, he finds himself alone.

Although Dice has been able to startle a reaction out of him several times today, calling these occurrences ‘uncommon’ would be nothing short of a lie. In his extended stay at Gentaro’s apartment, Dice has been very — thorough in his exploits of Gentaro’s unending sensitivity. One could say that once he got a reaction, he couldn’t will himself to stop.

Also a lie. Well, a half-truth to be more precise.

While it had been Dice’s curiosity and willingness to take a chance that led to the discovery, he didn’t act on his newfound information much at all. While a very physically affectionate lover, he would never go so far as to touch Gentaro in a way that caused discomfort or distress.

No, absolutely not. And so despite many implicit hints and invitations, Gentaro found himself having to get very explicit.

He didn’t dislike Dice’s teasing touch.

No, quite the opposite actually.

It was flustering to a degree Gentaro couldn’t imagine, but…Dice got the message.

He got it loud and clear, and now here they are.

In a game of cat and mouse; Gentaro’s eyes darting toward every movement, hands enveloping his torso at the slightest noise. The fabric on his skin is light, breathable, and silky to the touch; impossible to ignore. His stomach swoops nervously, broiling with anticipation—borderline excitement.

Oh, the monster he’s created.

———

After two hours of lights, cameras, make up, hair, and such; things are finally starting to wrap up.

Gentaro can see the end’s approach easily due to experience. It always comes in the form of Ramuda’s name. Called out by a weary photographer and followed in turn by their leader’s sing-song reply, skipping happily out of the dressing room and into the limelight.

Ramuda’s solo shots are always saved for the end. One must save the best for last, of course.

That being so, it would be a good idea to begin making preparations to leave.

Gentaro can feel the pinpricks in his legs as he slides them off the dressing room couch, uncurling from his seated position. He kicks out, pointing his toes in a stretch, arching his back and spine. The relief pushes a quiet sigh from his lips, leaves him sagging back into the cushions for a moment, suddenly drained.

Time spent in the presence of others can already be tiring, but the looming eyes of Chuohku make things far more intense. Gentaro can find peace in having his posse with him, but the sooner he can get these clothes folded, the sooner he gets his regular attire back—the sooner he’ll be home and out from under the Party’s prying gaze.

It takes Gentaro a few attempts to rise to his feet. His center of balance equals out as Dice makes his way into the room. The timing is very lucky, Gentaro gets barely a greeting out before his arm is in Dice’s hold. Before he’s swung around, in a blur of cobalt blue and floral print.

His back hits the wall with a dull thud. Not hard enough to hurt—Dice would never—but enough to have his breath catch in his throat. The way Dice leans into Gentaro’s personal space—hand still firmly gripped around his wrist, pinning it to the wall beside his head—makes getting air back a bit difficult.

“Hey Gen,” Dice breathes, a soft smile on his lips that completely contradicts the situation, and makes Gentaro melt all the more for it.

“Hello, Dice.” Gentaro’s hesitation is hardly noticeable.

“Whatcha up to?”

It’s so casual — the way Dice speaks, despite their position which has Gentaro’s brain buzzing like radio static. Strangely, it’s somewhat placating, in a way.

“Well — I’d intended on tidying up while Ramuda’s away…” Gentaro musters up a teasing smile, a lighthearted jab. “If you’re attempting to have me fold your clothes for you, I’m afraid I’ll have to stop you right there—”

Dice laughs. The sound does strange things to Gentaro’s heartbeat. Difficult to miss while it thrums so vividly in his ears.

“No, not that.” Dice smiles. Gentaro can’t help but return it.

“But could I—uh—do one thing? Before you go?”

Gentaro can take a fairly good guess at what Dice is referring to.

He shuffles, wrist rotating the smallest bit in Dice’s hold. His grip is strong, warm, and noticeably firm. Dice hasn’t moved, not an inch from his close lean over Gentaro, but he’s suddenly all that Gentaro can see, smell, feel.

He’s trapped.

It’s invigorating.

Gentaro is somewhat proud of the light, careless hum he gets out. A flippant roll of the eyes before his gaze meets Dice’s.

“Oh fine, if you must.”

Dice laughs again. Gentaro feels that familiar swooping sensation.

“I’ve been dyin’ to do this all day.”

Despite the unaffected air Gentaro puts off, his body is already tensed up in wait. Free hand poised to the side, ready to fend off Dice’s experienced fingers. His waist, hips, stomach; they’re all compromised in this outfit, leaving him more vulnerable than even his home loungewear would allow. It’s anyone’s guess as to where Dice may strike.

Which makes it extra shocking when Dice suddenly drops Gentaro’s wrist. When he slips both hands, with a pre-planned speed, into the gaps of Gentaro’s billowing sleeves and under his outstretched arms.

Gentaro is able to clamp his lips together before Dice’s fingers make contact. It makes muffling his surprised shout marginally easier. The same can’t be said for his limbs.

Before he can even think about it, Dice has found his rhythm, spidering feather-light strokes beneath his arms. His fingertips are gentle, calloused, and so very effective in their unpredictable movements.

Gentaro’s shoulders lock up. He chokes back the bubbling wave of laughter, then clamps his arms down in attempted self-defense.

Immediately after, his spine snaps off the wall. Thrusting his torso flush against Dice, leaning in to cover him. He tosses his head back, a squeaky cry pathetically stifled as the feelings grow exponentially.

It takes all of Gentaro’s remaining brainpower to lessen the pressure of his arms against his sides, to bring his elbows a centimeter out from his waist. Because when he tries blocking Dice’s fingers—

Gentaro bites his lip against a particularly loud squeal; Dice using one finger on each hand to vibrate into the center of each hollow. Oh, please.

—when he tries to guard himself, he just pushes Dice’s fingers deeper.

“Mph! D-Dice!”

It’s debilitating. Dice rarely has access to his bare skin in most situations, but this may very well be a first for both of them. The skittering touch under his arms has Gentaro squirming, shaking. Every time his arms twitch down to stop it, he’s stuck muffling louder laughter at the added pressure he’s made for himself.

It’s all Gentaro can do to hold as still as possible; minimize the jerky, impulsive movements. But it’s so hard, and he’s quickly losing the battle with his volume as well.

What were once small, nondescript sounds are now squeaking—almost whining—noises. As Dice continues his careful track, sweeping soft fingers around and around and around each twitching hollow.

It takes Dice vocalizing aloud to get Gentaro to lift his head from the wall, blink one teary eye open and get a look at him.

Dice is smiling sweetly—no doubt a much nicer look than the hot flush and wobbly smile Gentaro’s trying to control—with his head tilted to the side. It leaves his neck and shoulder open, right at Gentaro’s head level.

He takes the invitation for what it is.

Gentaro quickly buries his face into the side of Dice’s neck. If he had the mind to think and the hindsight to see, he might have considered if this was well-meant aid or a well-sprung trap. It really depends how much credit Gentaro decides to give Dice. His scheming side is somewhat lacking.

Either way, it makes things much more manageable, and far less embarrassing when Dice’s fingertips turn to nails and Gentaro finally breaks, spilling surprised giggles into the other’s skin.

“Dihihice! What—whahat are you—ahahahaha! Wait! Th-that isn’t fahahahahahair!”

Dice had never kept his nails long before, not for so long as Gentaro has known him. He had no use for them, and it was much easier to keep clean with nails as short as can be. But he’s taken to growing them out, just a tad, for…special situations.

Situations where Gentaro is foolish, careless. Usually in the comfort of his own home, in clothes that make it too easy for Dice. To touch, caress. Warm hands over soft skin that finds another’s touch one part foreign to ten parts addictive.

Situations where the small scratch of a nail can amp the feeling of a tingle to a spark.

“Dihice, pl-plehease. I—aha! Oh no, oh pleheheHEHEHEASE!”

It’s so much easier to hide; in the warm, familiar grip of Dice’s embrace. Where he can smother his keening laughter and sudden gasps. No care in the world for his pink cheeks and ruffled hair, so embarrassingly genuine after the painstaking process of making him ‘modelesque.’

Where all he has to focus on is the rippling movement, scratching up and down the dips beneath his arms. A constant, offset graze on hypersensitive skin; gentle as can be but more than enough to drive Gentaro past the point of composure.

All too quickly, Gentaro feels his knees go weak. His back slips down the wall a fraction, hands gripping onto Dice reflexively.

Dice responds in kind, keeping him stable, then going the extra step forward. Literally.

He steps until there’s no space between them. Until Gentaro can be held up with no need for his own legs; just the cool, sturdy wall behind him and Dice’s chest against his own. He’s surrounded by Dice’s warmth, by his scent. It’s been only minutes, but Gentaro is panting for breath.

“Hey,” Dice mutters, softly, once Gentaro can focus on him. He tugs his hand free, chuckling along to the author’s stray giggle, before reaching up to cup his cheek. His thumb strokes habitually, eyes staring deep into Gentaro’s — searching. Always searching. Making sure he’s okay.

And he is. Better than okay. That’s not a lie, it can’t be, and the way Gentaro narrows his eyes, sends a challenging smirk Dice’s way — makes that abundantly clear. Dice drops his gaze, laughing to himself. Then he straightens up, thumbs the moisture from the side of Gentaro’s face.

“As I was saying…” Dice trails, locking eyes with Gentaro as he speaks. Watching the way they widen, lips pressing together, when his remaining hand flexes.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[hotchnisslovechild]

On the Sidelines

Chapter One

Holly and Marvyn meet and have a few beers.

A/N: i've recently fallen in love with the show big shot and grown quite attached to the relationship between holly and marvyn. i'll be needing something to hold me over as i wait for season 2 to be announced and released *fingers crossed*, so i thought i'd write a little something about these two. i’m not sure if any of you on here watch the show at all, but i feel like posting this here anyway. i recommend binging the first season of the show on disney+ :)

Pairing: Marvyn Korn/Holly Barrett (Big Shot) Rating: T Word Count: 2,302 AO3 Link

Today is the day. The day Holly gets to meet her new coaching partner and the team meets their new head coach. Changing into her practice clothes, something resembling both anxiety and excitement burrows itself in Holly’s nerves. Her thoughts run wild as she anticipates meeting the great Coach Marvyn Korn for the first time.

Holly would be lying if she said she didn’t have a little crush on Coach Korn. Of course, she admired his great looks, but she found his coaching to be just as fascinating, if not more. Watching him coach was electrifying. He’s animated, excited, always moving around, unable to sit still for a single play. He saw the court and everything happening all at once, managing his players like a brilliant conductor of an orchestra. She learned a lot from him by studying his coaching methods at Wisconsin from the comfort of her living room couch. He unknowingly taught her about defensive schemes and rotations, end-of-game scenarios, the importance of teaching your players every detail of the game and correcting their mistakes so they can improve. He undoubtedly loved the game and coaching it. His enthusiasm for the sport was infectious to his team in every game, and it paid off. That was until he threw it all away. And ended up here, at an all-girls private high school in California.

Taking a deep breath, the assistant coach walks into her office, her excited nerves to make a good impression mingling with her eagerness to get the season started with a new coach.  After tapping Shave and a Haircut on the window separating her office from Marvyn’s, she lets herself in, extending a hand to greet him.

“Holly Barrett, Assistant Coach,” she greets with an enthusiastic smile, borderline out of breath from the anticipation of finally meeting him. She studies him. His looks. His demeanor. He looks better than he did on TV — if that’s even possible. She finds his dark features beguiling. And those eyes. She could get lost in those light-colored eyes. There’s a lack of actual light in them, however. He seems unenthused, maybe a bit on edge. But she shrugs it off, attributing the lack of energy to nervousness.

“Marvyn Korn,” he says, shaking her outstretched hand, holding on to it a bit longer than necessary, caught off guard by the bright energy of the woman standing before him. She’s the first person at this school to greet him in a way that resembles any sort of kindness. No one at Westbrook wants him there. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be there. This is just one step towards getting back to college ball.

“It’s a great honor, Coach,” she says, letting go of his hand and walking towards the front of his desk, “I’m a big fan. You have no idea,” she admits, trying her hardest not to come across as creepy or weird. They are going to be working together pretty closely for the next few months, so she wants to start things off right with him, not scare him away or freak him out. She’s sure he’s already a bit freaked out being transplanted into an all-girls high school after coaching college men for so many years, and she’s not caught off guard when he then asks her for advice on coaching girls.

“Well, I'm tempted to say just treat 'em like the boys,” she starts, debating whether or not she wants to continue that thought. It’s probably not the best idea to offend the head coach on his first day on the job.

“But?” he pushes.

“You didn't treat the boys so well,” she answers matter-of-factly.

“Do you have any advice that might actually be helpful?”

She tells him that the girls on this Westbrook team are future leaders who are anxious to get started and can be a bit much. “Don’t pretend, they’ll see right through it,” she adds finally. And I’ll see right through it she thinks. “Other than that… let’s go coach some basketball,” she says brightly.

Marvyn tries his best not to roll his eyes as he gets up from his chair and heads onto the court to meet the girls. He doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t want to coach a bunch of rich high school girls. Everything about this gig is a demotion for him. From college to high school. From men to girls. His disregard for this job is anything but hidden as he walks out of his office, dreading the official start of his role as Head Basketball Coach at Westbrook.

Holly follows closely behind him, excited and ready for a fresh start with a new coach to work with. Their previous coach had been nothing short of insufferable, constantly telling Holly she had no say in the team, diminishing her role as a coach, making it clear she was not in charge. Despite his harshness towards Holly, he coddled the girls on the team, always telling them what they wanted to hear. The lack of discipline never got the team anywhere, but Holly bit her tongue, knowing that whatever she had to say didn’t matter to her then-colleague. Marvyn gives her a sliver of hope for the team’s future and hers. She knows Marvyn will run things differently, and she hopes that this change will be a good change.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After one practice and not even one drink into their casual rendezvous at a sports bar, Holly concludes that Marvyn certainly is different from their previous coach, but she’s hesitant to consider the change a positive one. He takes the game too seriously, prioritizes the end goal of winning and success over the feelings of the girls on the team. To him, they are just pawns in his own lifelong game of basketball. They are X’s and O’s, not individuals worthy of being treated with respect. He practically committed every sin of working with teens in the book. He demeaned them, embarrassed them, and disrespected them all in the span of one practice.

“My life is basketball,” he begins, “Everyone in my life are basketball players. A good coach can't be successful if he becomes friends with his players.”

“What about after work?”

“There is no after work. Not if you wanna win. There's diagramming plays, there's watching tapes, the recruiting, but there's no after work.”

Holly lets out a breath. His version of reality is nearly incomprehensible to her. Never in her life has she met someone more polarizing and stuck in his way than this man in a tracksuit sitting in the booth with her. She almost feels sorry for him. He doesn’t have any friends, and he spends all of his time thinking about basketball and how to make his team better.

“I guess I don't have to ask what happened to your marriage,” Holly says boldly, venturing into the untouched territory of his personal life as she takes a sip of her beer.

“Nope. What happened to yours?” he returns. He checked her out in the teacher portal the day before. He’s all about preparation, and that does not exclude doing some research on his assistant coach.

Her eyes grow wide. How the hell did he know I was previously married? She thinks to herself. “None of your business,” she retorts, sidestepping his question as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, not wanting to air out her dirty laundry in front of her colleague, especially considering they just met some few hours ago.

“It is my business. Add to that, you opened the door because you asked about my marriage.” She scoffs in response, now regretting bringing up the topic of failed marriages.

Marvyn opens up about his divorce first, telling her that his wife left him, which Holly deduces was because Marvyn is such a workaholic. “She figured that she deserved more, that she could do better. So she did,” Marvyn explains. “Your turn.”

“Same,” she utters, wanting nothing to do with this conversation any longer, “He realized he could do better.”

“Why?” He pushes once more, his stubbornness starting to set Holly’s nerves on fire.

“None of your business,” she says, her voice laced with more attitude than she intended.

“If it speaks to your character, it is my business.”

Looking down at her lap, Holly lets out a quick breath. She has her back up again the door of the closet, refusing to expose the skeletons locked in there. Her marital past is not something she’s particularly proud of or that she looks back on with much joy. It’s hard to talk about without feeling embarrassed, feeling ashamed that she had an affair with a man named Matt, who happened to be her husband’s best friend.

The neglect from her husband eventually pushed her over the edge to do what she would never forgive herself for. The person who was supposed to love her the most in this world stopping caring. She was left unfulfilled and disconnected from the man she once loved. He was absent. Even when he was there, he wasn’t actually there. They didn’t even bother to fight anymore. They simply coexisted in a house that no longer felt like home.

She really wasn’t thinking at all when it happened the first time. She had an itch to scratch, and Matt was there.

“I cheated on him,” Holly discloses finally, “I had an affair. Worst thing a spouse can do, I suppose. Short of neglect, maybe,” she explains, purposefully vague, hoping he doesn’t interrogate her further.

“Are you saying my betrayal was worse?” he asks, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I’m saying his was worse. But yeah, yours too, I guess, if that's what you're guilty of.” The weight of her words hangs in the air between them. He watches as she shifts once more in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with the level of openness of the conversation.

Holly sighs. “Wow. This is a really nice ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’,” she says with a subtle bite of sarcasm, avoiding his gaze and reaching for her beer.

“This isn't a ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’. You have an agenda.” She rolls her eyes at his accusation, although there is some truth to it. She does have something she wants to talk to him about. “You clearly have an agenda, so get to it.”

“You are profoundly unlikable. You know that, right?” She doesn’t even try to hide the sourness of her tone.

“You're just scratching the surface. If you have something to say to me, please say it. 'Cause I'd like to get back and work on the Laguna game.”

God, he’s so fucking persistent. “Okay.” She set aside her beer, leaning in towards him. “Marvyn, these are high school girls we are working with. I know your tried-and-tested ways of coaching got you far at the collegiate level, but these girls can’t be treated like they are men in college.”

“And why not?” Her point evidently went right over his head.

“Because they are different. They don’t handle criticism like those men do. They take things personal. They won’t be responsive to your derogatory, hotheaded way of giving feedback or your ‘my way or the highway’ mentality. These girls need to be inspired and supported, not embarrassed and disrespected. These girls don’t just kiss the ring. If they aren’t respected, they are going to try to get the upper hand. And they are quite good at it.”

“They’re not gonna get the upper hand with me,” he counters.

“Look at how scared of this you are.” She can’t understand how it’s so hard to just receive these girls as the complex people they are. This team won’t get anywhere if he doesn’t let go of all his unreasonable preconceptions and connect with these girls. He’s so stuck in this mindset that the team is beneath his abilities that he doesn’t realize he could actually learn something from these girls. And he shouldn’t be afraid of that. Holly is always learning new things from her students and players. When is Marvyn going to get it through his head that he can learn from these girls just as much as they can learn from him? It’s a two-way street.

“This is another thing. You don’t know me,” he snaps defensively, “so don’t pretend that you know me.”

“I don’t want to know you,” she says coolly, “I just want what’s best for the team,” she assures him, feigning sincerity, telling him exactly what he wants to hear whether it’s what she wants to say or not.

“Yeah.” He nods his head, thinking she’s finally seeing things from his point of view.

“Is that a good answer?” she asks as she raises her eyebrows, revealing the insincerity of her previous words. His face drops, catching on to her little game. She’s irritatingly clever.

The conversation comes to a quick end, interrupted by the other patrons of the bar cheering and applauding, celebrating a touchdown in the football game playing on all of the TVs.

They find themselves back in that same booth at the same sports bar the next night. As they sip on their beers, Marvyn expresses his doubts about coaching this team, telling Holly that he just doesn’t think he can do it.

“What else?” he asks after bringing up everything that’s happened with the girls in just his two first days, speaking so frantically Holly could hardly keep up. “What the hell else?” His apparent distress over coaching a bunch of high school girls makes her laugh. You would think the world was coming to an end based on how he was acting.

“I know. You're not prepared. Welcome to high school,” she quips.

“I- I had no idea what I was in for.”

Clearly.

[saffron-nova21]

XIX. Secret Tours

Remember Me Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language

A/N: I know, I’m so sorry about the lack of a read more, I might try to add one later, but currently, they aren’t working on my phone and my laptop is out of commission. I’m really, really sorry, guys.

...

With a sweet, but sleepy, smile plastered on your lips, you step away from the train with Atsumu, your bag slung over your shoulder, finding yourself excited to meet Tetsurō in person. You might not have known him for very long, nor had you met him in person yet, but all he’d been was a good friend to you. One you had come to need and depend on, with all that had been going on in your life. All of those lonely days, who had texted you and grounded you throughout all of it? Not your brother, not any of your team mates, no... It had been a stranger you’d met through Twitter, by pure coincidence.

He was the one who had knocked some sense into you to stop giving Rintarō chances. He was the one who talked you into telling Atsumu what had happened, rather than continuing to allow yourself to be manipulated. He had been the one to tell you that quitting volleyball club and practicing on your own would be best, with the way the other team members continuously made you feel like shit and gave you the cold shoulder.

When you spot he and his best friend standing there, the latter with a game in his hands, you nearly jump out of your skin as a jolt of excitement runs through you.

Looking at who who assumed to be Kenma, you found yourself touched that Kenma continuously glanced up to search for you, immediately getting the sense that he probably didn’t do that very often.

You end up walking towards them without a word to your best friend. Though Atsumu would tease you later on, saying you were borderline running to the two. When they caught sight of you, Kenma and Tetsurō go bug-eyed for a moment. Kenma’s arms fall a bit as his attention shifts to you, completely.

Both of them were quickly able to come to one conclusion: Any pictures of you did you no justice.

As you reach them, you stop just short of them, having to retrain yourself from leaping on them both... They’d been so good to you, it only felt normal to want to hug them.

“Hi,” you grin at them both, effectively breaking their momentarily stunned silence, your smile shining nearly as brightly as the sun.

A grin emerges on Tetsurō’s face as he shakes his head and offers open arms, to which you nearly jump in, hugging him tightly. Very quickly, he had become your anchor, being there for you and believing in you, when even your team lost faith in you and you could only hope your embrace conveyed all of the emotions that you couldn’t voice.

Hugging Tetsurō felt like hugging an old friend, or an older brother you never got to see. His embrace felt warm and it made this sense of security wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Ready to go?”

“Of - fucking - course I am!” Your voice attracts the attention of people around you and makes Kenma look back down at his screen, being knocked from his trance. He hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been stari — “I get to come and play volleyball with some of Tokyo’s best. Not to mention, Tokyo has some other-worldly pretty setters.”

Kenma doesn’t respond, his head just shooting up to give you a brief, almost confused glance look before returning his attention to his gaming device.

Though you don’t miss the reddening of his ears.

“Yeah, I meant you, Kenma, baby.” You grin, finally slipping from Tetsurō’s embrace to look at Kenma, who looks at you again.

Momentarily, the faux-blonde looks confused, before he lets out a small exhale, opening his own arms to you. Moving forward, you embrace him, without a care in the world that you hardly knew him. And as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you miss the slight smile that forms on his lips.

Pulling away after a moment, you allow Kenma back to his game, “You guys give some amazing fucking hugs. Just thought you should know.” You inform them, before turning to face an oddly quiet Atsumu.

You always complimented people a lot and borderline flirted with everyone around you, until you and Suna started dating. And now, you were back to being your normal flirty self.

Though Atsumu was the same way, consistently flirting with everything that breathed.

You both weren’t together, you’d just been flirting, putting your past feelings out in the open, and opening the doors to a relationship between you both maybe having a relationship one day.

There was nothing exclusive between you both, as far as you were aware. Not to mention that he was still talking up a storm with his fan club, just yesterday.

But apparently you were wrong.

...

You shouldn’t have been as excited as you were about touring Nekoma High. You’d be transferring for your final year of high school, leaving behind all of the people you’d met. Leaving, even if Suna could regain his memories any day now, leaving even though you and Atsumu had only just laid out all of your feelings out on the table, together.

As you approach the large gym, a smile forms on your face, eyes shining as if you’d just opened a present. Everyone around you could see the way you picked up your pace and held your head up higher, even if you didn’t quite notice it.

Entering the gym, you looked around, glancing at all of the people who looked towards you at your entrance. As much as you wanted to shy away from the attention, you couldn’t, just grinning as Tetsurō comes to stand next to you.

The realization seems to hit them, the teams walking over to speak and introduce themselves.

You were so caught up that you didn’t notice the way Atsumu watched you. Even though he introduced himself and conversed with his normal lazy smirk, he couldn’t miss the way you smiled.

For so many weeks, your smiles had been half-hearted. They hadn’t quite reached your eyes, and everyday, it seemed like you were dragging your feet, just waiting, wishing the days would come to an end. So how could he miss your first genuine smile in weeks? How could he miss the way your eyes lit up, while you looked around? How could he miss the way you spoke to them excitedly, without having to hold your tongue for fear of people attacking you for what you said? How could he miss the way you clicked so easily with these people?

That's the thing. He couldn't.

...

"I think you'll really like the people here, too. Of course, every high school can have a toxic atmosphere, but it hasn't really ever gotten half as bad over here as what you've had to deal with, in the past months." Tetsurō explains with a grin playing on his lips.

"Over here are some of our other clubs. I assumed you'd be signing up for the volleyball club, but in case you truly wanted a clean break, here you are." Reaching a hand to the bulletin, he pulls off one of the many sheets, filled with different clubs. "Do you want to look at the classrooms, or would you rather tour the courtyard?"

Thinking momentarily, you roll your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, "Honestly, you said it yourself, the Chemistry classroom was the most interesting and you already showed it to me, so the courtyard sounds best."

With a nod and a teasing smirk cast in your direction, a 'this way, your highness' came from your friend.

Walking to the courtyard with Tetsurō, you smile, "So... Kenma. He's... Interesting."

The Captain goes bug-eyed at your words, though it's hidden behind a curtain of messy black hair, from the angle you're looking at him. He quickly hides it with a discreet shake of his head. "What happened to that setter of yours, that you were so in-love with?"

Embarrassment floods you, your face growing warm as your bring a hand to rub the back of your neck. "What-?" Your feigned ignorance doesn't fly with your new friend, though, who makes you drop your 'act' with a knowing look. "Look, I love Atsumu... But am I in love with him?" You sigh. "I told him that it might be possible that I attempted to move on with him... But I know how he's going to take it, when I tell him I'm changing schools.

"I love Atsumu, I do... But I know him better than anyone else. Except for maybe Osamu. And knowing him so well means knowing that he's not going to want to accept it. He's going to think I'm abandoning him and lash out. Then he'll feel guilty, but won't apologize, because he's prideful."

Tetsurō furrows his brows, looking at you, "Then what are you going to do? Just not say anything when you disappear, next school year?"

Looking around, you smile a bit up at the bright blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds decorated it, but otherwise, it was nothing but clear skies. It almost made you forget the fact that Atsumu wouldn't be able to handle you moving schools. He'd nearly lost his shit when you had changed middle schools and the only way that he had kept his cool was knowing you'd be going to the same high school together.

"I don't know."

Tetsurō nods a bit in understanding, opting not to say much more on the topic.

As Tetsurō continued to give you the tour, neither of you noticed the texts from Kenma, warning you that Atsumu had left the gym in search of 'the bathroom' and hadn't come back.

And you would soon find yourself regretting not checking your phone.

Tetsurō honestly hopes that you and Kenma get along. He worries about Kenma, for after he goes to university, and knowing that he's leaving someone behind who will make sure Kenma takes care of himself makes him feel a lot better.

Atsumu wants you happy. But he wants you happy with him. Even if you're not dating, he knows distance can ruin friendships.

You know that you're attracted to Kenma - of course, you wouldn't call it a crush since you only just met him, but you do want to get to know him more.

I hope you guys are enjoying, still!

You guys better be eating some food, drinking some water, and taking care of yourselves mentally and physically. But remember, no matter what, I'm proud of you and I love you. You're doing great, today. Even if you just got out of bed, keep it up, because you're doing great, alright? Things will get better, I promise.

Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @its-the-aerieljeane @javj @ash-levi @babyshoyo @hiraeth-z @random-fandom-girl-24 @kodzuklutz @tsukkiswifeey @thollandx @pandauniverse @starylust

[brexrif]

Henry ‘Hate**s’ You ;)

This came from a lovely lovely request I was thrilled to answer: So like the thought of Henry hate fucking me because I pissed him off on set or something has been plaguing my mind bro 😭 @poisonbaby169​

Henry is definitely a big sweet bear, but I KNOW he has hatefuck potential, and I’d love to see it. Happy to write this filthy one for you babe. Asks and requests are always open!

This weirdly got deleted the first time I posted, so lets hope for the best now!

Warnings: Obviously rough smut below!

If you are interested in more filth, please visit my MASTERLIST!

Henry has had a rough day on set. He is at the end of one of his relentless dehydrating cycles for a shirtless scene he had been trying to get all morning. So he was naturally irritable, his workout was limited due to his inability to intake water and for some reason the scene just wasn’t working out right- something with the lighting. They decided to take a break where Henry could return to his trailer, but of course not drink or eat a single thing.

You were waiting, perched on his couch in his favorite lingerie, an expensive set he had bought just for you. It was a tasteful, black lace bra and matching panties that had a corset lace up your ass and accentuated your full cheeks. Between these two pieces was a lace garter belt that attached to the matching thigh highs, which made you feel like a seductress pin-up queen. You had perfectly done up your makeup and hair and were excited to catch him off guard.

Unfortunately for Henry, you were a brat through and through. He told you last night that he couldn’t afford to break into a sweat when he was so dehydrated, leaving you wet and needy for him. Brats don’t like getting told no. So you snuck yourself on set, readied yourself and waited squirming and impatient for him to return.

The way you imagined it, Henry would finish the scene and find you wet and ready for him moments later. You didn’t want to wait for his cock any longer than was absolutely necessary.

He opened the door sighing to himself before he saw you there.

“Y/N?”

“Henry. I waited,” you cooed at him seductively, spreading your legs and arching your back on the couch.

Henry sneered and ran a hand through his thick curls, frustrated.

“We haven’t gotten the shot yet” he said through gritted teeth. “Get dressed and go home, I’ll deal with your sweet ass later.”

“B-but, Daddy! That’s not fair” you pouted.

His head snapped up at you, eyes ignited with a fire you rarely saw. You knew how to get him. You knew what made him throb, and you knew if you called him Daddy that his neglected cock would spring to life with a force that could not be ignored. You saw it pushing on his pants as he clenched his jaw at you.

“Kitten, I will give you one more chance to get dressed right now.” He was growling at you, which only made the heat between your desperate thighs more intense. You stood up as if to get dressed, turned slightly to reach your clothes, but instead slowly dragged the lace panties down your legs and wiggled your ass slowly, as if it was necessary to get them off. You giggled to yourself, knowing exactly what you were doing to him, but your giggles were cut short by a rough grip on your ass. A sharp spank came across your cheeks and you yelped.

“You’ll be sorry for this disobedience, Kitten. I’m not in a forgiving mood.” His hands dug into your hips and threw you forward on the couch. You caught yourself on the back of the couch and your knees fell to the cushioned seating part, leaving your ass high for Henry. You heard the clanking of his belt as it tore it from the loops of his pants. You thought he might settle behind you, thrust his cock into your desperate core finally, but no. He came up beside you, his belt doubled over in his hand, a sight that filled you with terror and pleasure.

“You’re such a fucking brat” he growled into the nape of your neck before biting it. It hurt, but his lips on you, his teeth on you, any touch from Henry was ecstasy. He continued between biting and sucking the soft skin under your ear,

“Do you know what happens to disobedient brats, Kitten?” You whimpered in response, knowing what would come to pass as he adjusted the belt in his hand. The leather came across your exposed ass hard and with no warning.

“Too hard, Henry!” you tried, but he was too pissed. You could have used the safe word, but a part of you loved this rough treatment. The belt came down again and you squealed, burying your face into the fabric of the couch.

“You know what else is hard, slut? When I’m trying to work and you can’t keep control over that needy little cunt of yours.” Another blow from the belt. You could feel the red hot stripes rising from the fleshy skin.

“I’m sorry, Daddy” you cried out, but the belt came down again. He was right about not being in a forgiving mood and you started to question your choice to come down to set today.

“I’ll bet you’re sorry now, Kitten. But that’s too bad.” Another blow from the belt and you leapt, legs starting to shake from the pain. A low chuckle resonated in Henry’s broad chest. He sat back on the couch and removed his shirt, giving your now bruising skin a break. You stole a glance. His body was incredible. He had been training for weeks for this shot and though the training plan was borderline torturous, you had to admit that his body was breathtaking. His deeply defined muscles spread endlessly over his hard body, distracting you from the painful heat on your backside.

He stood behind you and you heard his zipper, and then his pants fall. His large hands rubbed over your ass, admiring the marks he had made, a low hum rumbling in his chest. “You bruise so pretty, Kitten.” He commented, before bringing the belt down one last time on your sensitive ass. You screamed into the couch cushion, raw from the pain. He gripped at your cheeks greedily and kneaded his fingers over you until he reached the heat of your folds, soaking wet for him despite the rough treatment.

He dove a thick finger in with no warning and you moaned, louder than you should have. You were overcome with the feeling of pleasure in lieu of pain and the screams you had been holding back escaped in a breathy moan now. He curled his finger knowingly and tickled your g-spot. Your knees buckled inward and you moaned again, desperate and needy for him.

“Absolutely soaked. Such a desperate slut.” He withdrew his fingers and you whined obnoxiously. He gripped a handful of your tediously styled hair and pulled you up, your back arched and your shoulders rest against his chest.

“Don’t you fucking whine at me” he growled before biting and sucking at your neck again. With his other hand, he guided his thick, throbbing cock to your entrance and plowed it into you. He dragged your head back as he sheathed himself so the throaty sounds of your moans went up and out, unabashed and unmuffled.

Henry fucked into you at a maddening pace. He was clearly taking his frustration out on you; the weeks of training, the hunger, the dehydration, the incompetent lighting equipment holding up the shot, your bratty, needy body. It was all culminating in every thrust he rammed into you now. He threw you back forward by the handle he had in your hair and gripped your hips, digging his nails in deep. He spanked your bruising flesh and you yelped, keening in painful pleasure.

“That’s right Kitten, cry for me.” He growled, an anger in his voice you had never heard before. He pushed your head down into the couch so your ass presented even higher for him and your face smushed into the crack between the cushions- he didn’t care. The new angle provided him access even deeper inside you. He drove his hard cock into you with power, the flesh of your whole body shaking in waves with each clap of his hips into you. You felt his balls ramming into you clit and your breath hitched as you neared orgasm. He must have felt it as he started into you faster, his nails digging into your hips. The head of his cock started pounding into your cervix and you groaned. Two final pumps and he unloaded into you. Henry plowed his cock deep inside you and howled, all the frustration coming out in a primal roar. He continued grunting as his cock twitched inside you, releasing his thick cum.

He pulled himself out and pushed you over on the couch, your pussy was still throbbing, your clit absolutely aching.

“But Daddy I-”

“Did you think I was going to let you cum? Poor Kitten”

....................................

This was so fun! Fill up my asks and requests! Check out my MASTERLIST!

AFTERCARE WITH HENRY

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my content and specify whether you’d like Geralt, Henry or both! <3 

@littlefreya​, @dancingwendigo​, @magdelen69​, @eevee-of-rivia​, @boogeywoogeywoogeywoogeywoogey​, @thiccgeralt​, @sciapod​, @honeychicanawrites​, @mary-ann84​, @spookypeachx​,

[vs-redemption]

May I please have BNHA scenarios of how any characters you think would fit would dealing with a haunting with their paranormal loving partner? Thank you

A/N: I had so much fun writing these! I decided to do three characters: Twice, Mirko, and Todoroki. They’re all under the cut since it’s three different stories. I hope you enjoy!

Dealing with a Haunting (Twice, Mirko, and Todoroki x Paranormal Loving!Reader)

Warning: Mentions of scary Halloween themes like death and murder related to the huantings.

Twice (Jin Bubaigawara)

“Hey Jin!” You skip up to your boyfriend with an innocent smile on your face. It was always the best way to get his guard down if you had to ask him for something. Not that it was hard to get him to go along with your ideas anyway. He could never resist doing things for the people he cared about. “I finally decided what I want for my birthday.”

“Really? What is it?” He perks up at your words, eager to find out what it was that would make you happy. “Took you long enough!”

You smile, knowing there was no reason to be offended by the second comment. He pulls you into a hug as you reach up to put a hand on each side of his face. Your touch reminds him that he has no reason to fear splitting apart. “I want to spend the night in a haunted hotel,” you tell him, causing him to go bug eyed for a moment.

“Uh uh! No Way!” he shakes his head before leaning in close, “anything for you, baby!” You smile victoriously. He would need no further convincing. He knew you loved anything paranormal, and there was no way he was going to let you go somewhere potentially dangerous by yourself.

--

An alarm on your phone alerts you once it is 3am on the night of your birthday. You hop off the hotel bed which was still perfectly made since you had no intention of sleeping. Your boyfriend, however, had drifted off in the room’s armchair in the middle of the movie you’d put on a few hours before.

“Jin, wake up!” You shake his shoulder and he wakes up with a startle. “It’s dead time! Let’s go!” You don’t wait for him to reply as you open up your suitcase to grab your flashlight and camera. You remember to hand Jin a mask to wear over his head so that he’d feel a little more confident.

“Are you sure about this?” He whispers as you both tiptoe out into the darkened hallway.

“Of course!” You assure him. “I’ve been wanting to come here for years! Thank you so much for doing this with me.” You lean toward him to give him a peck on the cheek before making your way down to the first floor of the hotel. Your footsteps echo around the stairwell and you feel Jin slip his hand into yours.

“Are you scared already?” you ask him in amusement.

“Oh course not!” He defends himself before puffing out his chest, “I’m your brave protector!” You laugh at his false bravado as you lead him toward the empty swimming pool.

“They say a pair of twins died in this pool,” you tell your boyfriend as you flick on your flashlight and let it illuminate the calm water in front of you. “Every year, on the same day as their death, people claim to hear the sound of children laughing and running around this area.” You turn around and give him your best creepy smile, “tonight is the 10 year anniversary.”

“Stop it,” Jin was definitely getting spooked now, “I don’t believe you.”

As soon as he muttered those words, you felt a small breeze brush past you both with the faint sound of a giggle floating through the air. You quickly reach for your camera, hoping to capture some evidence of what was happening, but Jin completely freaked out. He scoops you into his arms and runs as fast as he can from the pool area. Once you’re far enough away, he sets you down and takes your hand again. “Your story was real!” He gasps, “Let’s get out of here!” Jin takes you back to your room to get the rest of your stuff before checking out as fast as humanly possible.

 Mirko (Rumi Usagiyama)

You had been a fan of everything and anything paranormal since before you could remember. You had grown up watching all the different ghost hunting programs on TV and always found yourself watching live ghost cams in your free time. Over the years, you’d collected all sorts of gadgets like EMF readers, thermal cameras, and digital voice recorders. Recently, you had even started your own paranormal investigation website where you posted videos of your own ghost hunting adventures. It was the hobby you were most passionate about. When the Halloween season finally came around, you decided to a special vlog including your pro hero girlfriend, Mirko.

“Sorry, I know you’re into all the spooky stuff, but it’s not really my thing,” She flips her long silver hair over her shoulder before pointing a confident thumb to her chest. “I’ve literally made it my job not to be afraid of anything.” You let out a laugh at her predictable response.

“You don’t have to be scared,” you tell her. “I just thought it was something fun we could do to get into the Halloween spirit!” The rabbit hero puts a hand to her chin in thought before shrugging her shoulders.

“All right, I don’t see any harm in it,” she gives in quickly since, if nothing else, it was a chance to spend more time with you. She knew she’d made the right decision by the way your face had lit up with excitement. You both were thrill seekers, which is what had brought you two together in the first place.

What she hadn’t predicted at all, was that you would be dragging her to a graveyard on the night of Halloween. You’d set up some cameras around the area during the day, then went back with Mirko after the sun had set.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” Mirko had the EMF reader in her hand as she followed you through the rows of headstones. It was a little chilly outside and she looked really cute bundled up in her fluffy coat and gloves.

“Supposedly, ghosts are able to effect magnetic frequencies,” you explain excitedly while scanning the area with your thermal camera. “The device you’re holding will let us know if there are any disturbances in the electromagnetic energy around here.”

“Right,” her intense red eyes glanced around the graveyard as if daring something to come set off the device.

“You know you can’t take down a spirit with brute force, right Rumi?” You ask her in amusement while continuing your walk among the headstones. A slight mist had started to form over the ground and the temperature of the air seemed to drop suddenly. The tiny machine in Mirko’s hand began emitting a high pitched whine that made the hero tense up and go on alert.

“What’s happening?” she asks urgently. She didn’t sound scared, just ready to go toe to toe with anything dangerous that might appear.

“Shhh,” you put a finger to your lips before grabbing your voice recorder. You hit the record button and start asking questions like “Is anyone there?” and “If there’s a spirit present, give us a sign.” The EMF reader goes silent again and you glance over at Mirko. Her eyes are wide and her fluffy rabbit ears are straight up in the air.

“Something just moved past me and touched my hair,” she whispers as a smirk grows on her face. Abruptly, she snatches the recorder out of your hand. “All right ghost!” She challenges, “You wanna play? You don’t know who you’re messing with!”

“Rumi!” You can’t help but laugh even though the things you were suddenly experiencing were really quite extraordinary.

“Point the camera over there,” Mirko suddenly points across the graveyard. “By that tree.”

“Oh!” You gasp when the thermal camera picks up on a patch of cold in the exact spot Mirko had indicated. How had she known? “There’s something over there!” Mirko looked victorious before bouncing off in that direction, going too fast for you to keep up thanks to her large bunny feet.

“This is going to be great for your website!” she calls out behind her but the cold spot on the camera disappeared before reached the tree. You shake your head in amusement, wondering if bringing your girlfriend had been a good idea after all. She was going to scare all the ghosts away.

“It’s gone now,” you call over to her. The disappointment in your voice brought Mirko back to your side in a flash.

“Don’t worry!” She promises while putting an arm around you, “We’re going to track down every single ghost in this graveyard, even if we have to stay out here all night!” For someone who’d said ghosts weren’t her thing, Mirko was sure getting into it.

Shoto Todoroki

Getting a pro hero to take a vacation was borderline impossible. You’d been begging your boyfriend, Shoto Todoroki, to take some time off for years, but he was always reluctant to leave his job for more than a day or two at a time. You understood his need to be on standby in case of a major villain attack or big natural disaster. He hated the thought of not being there to save an innocent life or have the back of one of his fellow heroes. He still made sure to spend time with you every day, and you were content with taking small weekend trips with him when you could.

The routine had become familiar and comfortable, so it came as a huge shock to you when Todoroki showed up after work one day with two plane tickets in his hand. Not only were you going on an extended vacation with your boyfriend for the first time, but he’d also chosen New Orleans as the destination. You’d been dreaming of going there since you were a child. It was a city with a history full of vampires, witches, ghosts, and plenty of other supernatural entities. You were happy that your boyfriend had remembered, and surprised that he’d be willing to go along for the journey.

“I booked us a private tour at a haunted house tonight,” Shoto says causally as you unpack your bags at the first hotel. You look over at him in surprise. He was intently reading a brochure about the best ghost tours in the city.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Shoto?” You ask and he turns to look at you. “It might be really scary.”

“The ghosts don’t really exist,” he comes over and sits next to you on the bed. “But I think it’s an interesting way to learn about the history here.” If he was so sure, you weren’t going to try to change his mind. You were just happy that he was doing all this for you.

Once the tour started, you found yourself thankful that your boyfriend had paid for the private walkthrough. Some of the effect would have been lost if there’d been a huge group of people trying to squeeze through the dimly lit rooms and hallways. The tour guide was fantastic at setting the mood as well, explaining the stories of each haunting with just enough suspenseful flair.

“The previous owners of this house have reported repeatedly seeing a woman in a white dress standing by that window,” he explains. “They say she matches the description of a woman who died here, murdered by her lover who’d gone crazy after coming home from the war.”

At the beginning of the tour, Todoroki had curiously wandered around each room, investigating different items and asking questions. Now that you were deeper into the house though, he seemed less willing to stray too far from your side. You noticed he kept looking over his shoulder.

“Sometimes,” The tour guide continues, “When I’m closing up at night, I hear footsteps following me down this hallway even though I’m the only one here.”

“Really?” You ask, fascinated. “Have you ever seen anything?” You feel Shoto come up right behind you and put a hand on your waist.

“Yes!” The tour guide says dramatically, “I’ve often caught glimpses of a man’s face looking at me through mirrors or around corners.” The grip on your waist gets a little tighter.

“Are you okay, Shoto?” You ask, not understanding why he was being so clingy. It wasn’t like him at all.

“I’m fine,” he says but doesn’t let go of you.

“Oh!” The tour guide’s eyes suddenly go wide and he puts up his hands to ask for quiet. “Do you hear that?” You strain your ears and cover your mouth when the faint sound of a piano could be heard from somewhere nearby. The tour guide beckons you to follow him until you reach the room that was the source of the sound. You peek in the doorway and gasp when you see the keys of a grand piano playing by themselves.

“Look over there,” The tour guide suddenly whispers and you and Todoroki glance over to the corner of the room where a dark figure stood, barely visible in the shadows.

“Wow!” you were amazed but the grip your boyfriend had on you was almost getting uncomfortable now. You look up at him to see poorly concealed terror all over his face. You felt bad that he was reacting so badly so you took his hand into your own. “Most of it is tricks set up to excite the tourists,” you tell him to try and ease his fears.

The guide continues the tour after a moment but the sound of heavy footsteps suddenly come stomping down the hallway and move right past your small group. Todoroki’s eyes follow the sound as it fades out behind him. He actually starts to push you forward after that. “Please walk faster,” he tells you firmly.

You both were relieved when the tour was over. You’d enjoyed all the spooky experiences, but your poor boyfriend had not enjoyed even a moment of it. It was safe to say you wouldn’t be doing any more private haunted tours with him for the rest of the trip.

[caramelcal]

And yet, I still love you. [mgc]

DAY ONE OF MY 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE EXCITED

i wrote this fully and it deleted and i had to start over. what a great start lol

also you can thank my friend for the plot idea. legend :) so saucy 

“The worst part of all of this is that I still love you.’‘

You can find the completed 30 day prompt list here. ANYWAY, ON WITH THE FIC

Wedding bells had never been sourer. In fact, they hadn’t even been rung yet. It was the day before the wedding, and people were currently still scarce, and right now Daisy wanted to be too. In fact, all she wanted at this time was to be away from these people, especially the people that the event was for. She knew this was going to be the worst weekend of her life, no doubt about it.

Everyone who was there had smiles on their face that made Daisy believe that their mouths would split open. Some grins were so wide that they were borderline creepy, and people, overall, were buzzing with excitement. In fact, Daisy seemed to be the only one who wasn’t. Instead, she was trying her best just to survive the weekend without bursting into tears, which hadn’t been completely successful yet. In fact, she saw the venue and burst into tears in her car.

Her eyes were strained on them, seeing everyone that surrounded them bursting with happiness and giving them all their attention. Maybe it was selfish, but Daisy just wished someone would check up on her. They knew about her past with him, but none of them cared.

Be happy Daisy, stop being selfish.

Why don’t you want your sister to be happy?

Her sister stood tall, shoulders straight with that wide smile on her face. The one that made everyone swoon, the one that won him over. Her perfect hair fell over her shoulder, clothes without a single crease, makeup was flawlessly done. Yet, Daisy couldn’t find herself to be happy for the couple, not after everything, even if it was her own sister.

It was the first time that Daisy had laid eyes on him since he left her there, alone, in the street. It was pouring, wind soaring harshly through the air and hitting Daisy in the face, just like his words had done only seconds before. He left her there, screaming, crying, sobbing, wailing. She remembered falling to the ground, clothes soaked from the puddles beneath her but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore.

She had lost him; the one thing she felt security with. A neighbor had pulled her off of the road so that she didn’t get run down but Daisy couldn’t even find it in herself to care. That pain had been hidden deep beneath the surface, it had taken her months but she had managed to suppress it nonetheless, but the news of their engagement, only brought back those feelings.

Her ex-boyfriend was getting engaged to her sister. Her oh-so-perfect sister, the favorite child, cousin, friend.

He was so different now, even if it had only been nine months. They didn’t take long to plan their wedding, it happens only three months after their announcement. He has blonde hair now, his once colorful and youthful hair he sported now replaced. Amber had always liked everything proper; professional. The goofy and fun grin he had worn was gone now too, replaced with a slight upturn on his lips. His tattoos are hidden beneath the button-up he wore, something that Michael had professed his hatred for in the past to Daisy.

That wasn’t the only thing he lied about hating.

She should have seen it coming. Her sister was successful, high up in the production industry with a lot of good connections. She had a good social life and a good face to match. Daisy couldn’t compete, she never was able to, especially not with her bottom-chain journalism job and three friends to her name.

The feelings don’t go away and with each passing moment, Daisy wants to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath her and to never resurface. Yet, it only gets worse when green eyes meet onto his.

She walks out of the room, but he’s quick to follow.

What is it with him and trying to make things worse for her? Is he trying to make her cry? It’s surely what she feels like when he grabs her wrist, yanking her back lightly so she can’t continue forward on her journey to go as far away as possible. Her breathing feels restricted and she freezes in her place, scared to even breathe out from where she’s stood.

Her back is still turned to him, but she knows exactly who it is. His touch still feels electric to her, despite all the pain he’s caused, and he smells exactly the same, only...classier. She’s scared to even entertain the thought but when she smells him she knows exactly what she thinks. Home.

“Daisy,” The sound of her name coming from his tongue almost sets her on a downward spiral as she slowly turns around, yanking her wrist away from him. His voice, although soft, isn’t from guilt, from cheating on her, from all the pain. No. It’s pity.

“Michael,” Her voice almost breaks when she talks, looking up at the familiar eyes of someone she had previously believed to be her soulmate. It brings back so much emotion for her, and she knows he can see it. He’s always been able to read her well.

“Listen, I’m getting married tomorrow,” He starts and all Daisy can think is ‘thanks for the reminder, dickhead’, “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I wanna start over when we become brother and sister-in-law.”

“Wrong foot?”

When Daisy repeated the words that came out of Michael’s mouth, Michael involuntarily cringed slightly. He knew it was more than that, and from the bitterness in her tone, he knew she wasn’t happy with the words either, “Okay maybe that was the wrong choice of words-”

“No Michael, you can’t sit there and act as if I’m holding a petty grudge against you,” Daisy’s finger jabbed into Michael’s chest harshly, but he didn’t budge. He knew she was angry, staring at her as she spoke with anger burning in her green eyes, “You cheated on me with my fucking sister.”

Michael winced, “Daisy, listen-”

“Mike, darling?” A soft voice cut Michael off this time, instead of Daisy’s clipped and cold one. Both of them turned their head to see that Michael’s mother had peaked her head around the corner, “They’re ready to order another round of drinks.”

The woman hadn’t seen Daisy yet, Michael’s large figure covering her completely from view from the woman until she came closer. Her eyebrows were knitted together, seeing the guilty and tense expression that Michael held on his face. She had put up with Michael for twenty-odd years, she knew how to read her son well.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes catch onto the smaller frame behind him, green eyes raw with tears, making her frown. The woman doesn’t even speak, giving her son a curt nod as she joins gazes with him once again before sauntering back around the corner and down the corridor to join everyone else.

“I trusted you,” Daisy’s heartbroken hushed whisper sounds as soon as his mom turns the corner, causing Michael to whip around to face her again, “I ranted to you, I told you how I felt bad compared to her. She was always the favorite, praised like a god and you were the one person that I could go to and feel like I was enough. You comforted me and told me she was a stuck-up bitch. But what were you doing? You were fucking her when I wasn’t there. In our bed no less so don’t go telling me we got off on a bad foot-”

“Daisy lets go somewhere more private-”

He didn’t want people to hear, that much was obvious. Maybe he was ashamed for what he had done for her, wanted to keep it secret for that reason. Or maybe he was trying to protect his own reputation; his and his fiancés. He didn’t want to break the perfect couple façade that the two had going on. Reaching out for the smaller girl, he goes to guide her further away from the function, but as soon as his fingers grazed her arm she harshly yanked her hand away. It was as if his touch burned her skin as if he was repulsive to her. Her green eyes glared at him with such thick anger that it made him sad, he truly had fucked her over and he knew that.

“So no one can hear?” A bitter laugh escapes her lips, “They don’t care about me, no one here does. ‘Be happy for your sister, Daisy. Don’t be selfish’ where was that energy when she fucked my boyfriend?”

“People here care about you, Daisy.”

“Like who, Michael? Who?

“Me.”

Another humorless laugh escapes the girl’s lips, and she barely ever realizes the tears silently escaping her cloudy eyes, “You don’t hurt people you care about, Michael. And you certainly don’t cheat on them with their siblings.”

Silence surrounded them. He couldn’t explain himself. He loved daisy, truly, with every fiber of his being but Amber was better for his reputation, she knew top producers, people that could get him and the boys good deals. Was that really worth giving Daisy up for? For a chance of fame and success?

“You know she had everything,” Daisy started bitterly, catching onto Michael’s eyes once more, “You were the one thing, the one thing I had that she didn’t. But I didn’t even have you.”

Her voice ended off into a whisper, almost to stop her from completely breaking down and keeping that tiny piece of dignity that she had left. He knew exactly how she felt, he remembered him crying to her, asking why she wasn’t good enough for anyone. He remembered her crying, asking why her parents -and the rest of her family- loved Amber more than her.

He had tried to dismiss the thought that they loved one child any less than the other but when he was introduced to the family as Amber’s boyfriend instead of Daisy’s, he experienced it first hand. It was sickening, how much more they cared for him when he was Amber’s boyfriend, even after they knew everything the two had done behind Daisy’s back. She didn’t deserve that.

Bitterly, she laughed once more, head ducked to the ground and hands still curled into fists limply at her sides. Her head softly hit against the wall, forehead leaning against it with her eyes scrunched closed, “and the worst part of this is that I still love you.”

He barely heard it, a self-deprecating murmur leaving her lips but he did. His eyes widened, and something inside him seemed to snap as he stomped over to him, despite only being a few steps away. Forcefully, he took her head in his hands, fingers underneath her chin, and pointing it up to his face.

And then he kissed her.

It looked like they’d be in for a hell of a weekend.