#and then i let them out to play at night. they run around having a ball for like 15 minutes. and then sparrow breaks back INTO her cage

[beloveddawn-blog]

Two years later I present: The Sequel!

The outfit didn’t fit anymore.

Stupid. I thought to myself, irritated and <hurtscareddeterminedFURIOUS> fidgety. It had been almost two years, of course it didn’t hang quite right anymore. It was a stupid thing to be distracted by, anyway. I never used to have this problem. I used to go into combat, any combat, even verbal <tradingbarbswiththatGODDAMNASSHOLE> with all of my attention so tightly focussed that nothing else could bother me. Oh, it wasn’t that I had blinders on, I had always been prepared for a flanking maneouver or attack from behind, but more that I could go days without thinking to eat.

My record had been four days, and afterwards I’d gorged myself on Denny’s breakfasts at four AM until I was sick in the bathroom. The waitress had brought me mint tea when she came to check on me, then gave me a pep talk about exams. As if I would have taken advice on my education from someone working the night shift at Denny’s.

She had been kind, however, in a way I hadn’t recognized at the time. That I could think that now was just proof of how much time I had spent with That Asshole.

That was the focus point I needed, and it was as if the tension in me had just flowed out. I welcomed my old anger <fearfearFEAR> back and let it soothe me. I didn’t have time for nerves, or even reason. Nerves were for people who weren’t in complete control of the situation, and I was a master at running other people’s scenes.

It would be just like old times.

Except that my outfit didn’t fit.

*

My saunter was a goddamn work of art, though not one often appreciated. It combined insolence and complete domination together in a way that could make even those who should be my peers feel both disrespected and completely cowed. The cadence was unique to me and very recognizable, though today it was… off. I should have practiced it in my exile, I thought, regretting that those damn ducks had never had the opportunity to witness my true splendor. I could feel the special armour plating cut ever so slightly into my thigh as I continued up to the dais where That Asshole was.

The violent lab experiment before me offered me a polite-yet-furious smile, but the captive bound before him was livid. Even I had never seen That Asshole as angry as he was now, and I had spent most of the last four years pissing him off on purpose <twoyearsthenanotherthenThatIncident>.

It was a little vexing that this was what it took to make him lose his cool, when I had captured him myself before. The punk-ass wannabe we had here didn’t deserve it.

I flexed my fingers slightly, then stilled them. The gloves pulled wrong, and besides, fidgets were tells.

I gave him a polite smile back, one that hid my own disdain much better. “Poaching in my woods, are we now? Awful bold of you.” I purred, enjoying the way it made both men flinch. 

The villain responded first, but to be entirely fair to That Asshole, he was wearing a gag.

“Poaching?” He protested, drawing his self-righteousness around him like it would protect him. Like it was a shield.

Like it wasn’t a shroud.

I smiled back, sharp enough to cut. “Of course. Did you think I forgot my old arch-nemesis simply because he retired? You might have the memory of the goldfish you’ve somehow managed to splice yourself with, but I hold myself to a higher standard.”

That Asshole snorted, and I couldn’t help myself. I preened a bit. I played it off by nonchalantly checking my nails, completely disregarding the fact that my outfit had gloves. The clasp pinched slightly at my wrist, newly too tight.

My opponent gaped his big, stupid mouth and bulging eyes at me, obviously incensed. “Who are you to claim…” He began, before my incandescent rage poured out of me, responding to his jab in a way none of us expected.

“Who am I?” I thundered, the automatic reverberation built into my mask’s voicebox kicking in with the volume. “WHO AM I??? You dare to question me, and my credentials, as if the city isn’t still scarred from me? As if citizens don’t still quake in terror at the mention of me? As if the county hasn’t retired my colours like they were a goddamn number on a hockey jersey because of all the chaos they still inspire?” I had stalked closer as I spoke, venom so obviously radiating from me it may as well be visible.

Goldfish-Fucker cowered before me, and even That Asshole flinched back from my caustic vitriol. Give him credit, though, he rallied surprisingly well in the face of my terrifying visage and unnerving musical accompaniment.

Look, it was actually a great idea. Playing sub-audible music clues was such an easy way to sway people into the emotional range I wished them to be in. Currently it was The Imperial March. 

“No one has heard from, or even of you since that last great fight.” He insisted, hideous bulbous eyes lighting up as he came up with a rebuttal. As if this was fair, or logical, or some sort of formal debate he could win if he only made the right argument.

As if this wasn’t simply his life hanging by a thread and at my whim.

I laughed at him, high and cruel and designed to drag claws up and down his spine, shredding him as they went. “The city is still scarred from that last great fight.” I reminded him, unable to help glancing towards That Asshole. I knew he still cried about it, the big baby. “I have no interest in a pyrrhic victory. The city is of no use to me if it has been razed. My reach is not contained by my physical dimensions, even if yours is. Similarly, I will gain no pleasure from watching my nemesis scramble while his beloved city falls willingly into my hand if he is pre-broken. When I have finished securing my power in areas a little less paranoid and gun-shy, I will delight in watching this protected metropolis attempt to hold out as some sort of supposed bastion of righteousness, the desperate defence led by this man. And he would have led it. I would have removed the foundation stones of his retirement one. Block. At. A. Time… Until he had no other choice." I smiled again, my mask twisting grotesquely to follow it. It had taken me weeks to make the Lovecraftian-style Uncanny Valley of it the right balance of effortless and disturbing.

Goldfish-fucker seemed properly cowed, but That Asshole was now just looking at me with these big, sad, soulful eyes, and I almost caved and started assuring him I didn't mean it.

Almost.

I winged out one shoulder blade, knowing the plating in my outfit would hide the motion. The whole thing tightened across the front, as the muscle I'd built building our house had never gone away. This time the reminder was purposeful, even if it still <hurtscaredproudnervous> annoyed me. I was the best damn villain around, and it was because of my plans and my follow-through. And also, for the first time ever…

I wasn't just in it for me.

I didn't need to foil this dickhead of a low-budget hot mess of a villain. That's what superheroes were for. Including the ones trying desperately to find us, for the sake of their beloved former leader. The ones that had ignored my calls and my advice. The ones that would have been too late.

Maybe this guy wouldn't have learned from the classic mistakes. Maybe it would be fine, and he'd monologue until the city’s less competent heroes foiled him.

Or maybe it wouldn't.

Maybe That Asshole would have been dead before they got to him.

It had been close twice, with me. The only thing that had saved him, oddly enough, had been my age. I didn't have as high of a body count as I probably should, true, but I had never worried about ending others' lives. What I definitely hadn't been able to handle was cold blooded murder. I'd been psyching myself up for it when he had escaped or been rescued.

This guy was a rampaging chaos sort of villain, though. He actively grew his body count.

And That Asshole wasn't going to be one of them.

I sighed dramatically, slouching artfully down to look commanding and comfortable while also peeved and crossed my arms. "You've ruined that plan now, though, so thanks for that. I was going to enjoy it. Savour it. But no. You decided to try and fill my shoes, as if I should ever be counted out without a body." I lifted one hand and gave a nonchalant twisting-wave. "Now I need to unfuck your bullshit, because I refuse to let a bottom-dwelling guppy like you prevent me from claiming my total victory when the time is right." Behind me, the nanites that had been flooding the room while I distracted Goldfish-fucker suddenly coalesced. It looked like writhing, pulsing black tentacles shot through with my neon green and purple accent colours had sprouted from all flat surfaces in the room.

Both men jumped, and I smirked, making sure my body language oozed disrespect. The tentacles grabbed both of them, and I laughed again. Goldfish-fucker was panicking and struggling, but I could tell That Asshole's fight was mostly for show. Oh, he was still restrained from his first kidnapping, but still. Even power-dampening cuffs didn't prevent him from being clever and slippery, as I well knew.

The smile I gave them then was specifically designed to look like rows upon rows of serrated shark-like teeth. It was a particularly unsettling one, I knew, because even That Asshole flinched when I gave it. I zeroed in on him, completely ignoring the other villain for a moment. The fire in his eyes was one I recognized from before: he was furious.

Good. I thought. So am I.

The wink I gave him was well hidden from my would-be successor, but it did nothing to diffuse the rage-fueled bunching of muscles or the way his jaw clenched so hard on the gag I could hear his teeth grind. I snaked out one hand to grab him by the face. The side the villain was on was too tight, the plating on my fingers digging into soft, soft flesh. Too soft, really, but his healing factor must be the cause. His skin never stayed damaged long enough to become tough. It would explain why his skin care routine was non-existent as well, as he naturally had flawless skin with no effort.

Asshole.

“You,” I purred, my voice just the right amount possessive to send shivers down my audience’s back, “Can come with me. We have some… catching up to do.”

I spared a haughty glance at Goldfish-fucker, noting his terror with a trained eye. “You, on the other hand, are useless to me. I wouldn’t even want you as a trophy, and to be honest you aren’t impressive enough for me to bother with the mounting. No, instead, let's play a little game.” My shark smile was back, and its effect was just as chilling the second time. I waved my free hand and the nanites formed a small timer for me. “A test, if you will. To see if there is more to you than what I can see so far. I doubt it, but I’m counting on your panic to entertain me.” I set the timer down on the floor facing him, then stepped back. “I estimate it will take the heroes currently breaking in approximately seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds to arrive in this room. You’ll have twenty minutes between when I walk out that door and when my nanites here constrict, slowly crushing you to death. Either you escape somehow, they get through your safeguards and free you from the tentacles within about five minutes, at which point I highly suspect they shall take you to jail, or you die, crushed to death slow enough I can watch every one of your ribs snap. I’m excited to see what it will be.”

I spun on my heel then and stalked out. A snap of my fingers had the bound hero following me, still coiled in my technological tentacles. That lasted only as long as it took for the heavy doors of the lair to slam shut behind us. Then, of fucking course, that asshole shrugged of both his manacles and my tentacles as if they were nothing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, advancing on me more angrily than I’d ever seen.

“Saving your stupid life.” I shot back, grabbing him by the arm and attempting to keep him moving. He dug his heels in, like the stubborn idiot he was.

“You weren’t supposed to be here!” He insisted, obviously settling in to have a fight, right at this moment, in the lair of someone who was trying to kill him.

My eyes narrowed as I considered him. I was unlikely to convince him to wait to have this fight… But I could work with this. I dropped his arm and continued heading to the exit, trusting absolutely that he would follow. I heard him snarl in anger before his footsteps caught up with me. “Don’t you walk away from me!” He insisted, voice rising to a normal tone as he spoke. I rolled my eyes.

“I will walk wherever the fuck I want, and right now that’s away from the guy trying to kill you. The argument will keep but I can’t guarantee either of our safety when the heroes get here, so I’m going to leave this place. You’re welcome to join me.” He caught my arm, trying to stop me, but it was easy enough to shake it off.

He didn’t use his super strength. He never had with me, not even once, since the reveal.

“You can’t just ignore this!” He insisted, and I rolled my eyes. We were nearly at my planned escape route, so I picked up my pace. He sped up to keep our distance even, exactly as I expected he would.

He was always kinda stupid this way.

“I’m not ignoring anything.” I hissed, deliberately keeping him riled up. “It’s called planning and for once in your goddamn life could you try actually doing it?” We’d reached the tunnel I’d gotten in through by then, created just for this rescue, and I had my nanites collapse it as soon as we were far enough in. I spun on him then, surprising him, and grabbed his shirt to slam him into the wall. “How on Earth did you let that useless little nobody CAPTURE you? How could you be so incredibly stupid? If you wanted me to not be here you needed to not be here first.”

I was crying. I didn’t even realize it at first, and my mask and voice synthesizer covered it up for me but I was actually crying over this. Over Him.

Fuck my life. And fuck HIM.

His big eyes were imploring, and his hands were too gentle for the fight we were having when he brought them up to my shoulders. It just made me madder. “Kiddo, I let him catch me because he was looking for you. He knew I’d retired when I’d adopted a kid after our last battle. He thought you’d be younger and he didn’t know you’re you but he knew about you. And that means he can’t be the only one. He’s not smart or patient enough for that. Someone has been leaking knowledge about you to my enemies and I am going to find out who it is and SEND THEM TO HELL. You’re my kid, and I’m going to protect you.”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR PROTECTION!” I screamed at him, my mask distorting it into an unholy howl. I tore my helmet off and threw it to the floor as I clenched my other fist tighter in his shirt and got right up into his face. I needed to say this as me and I needed to make him understand. “I AM AN ADULT. AN ADULT! I’m tougher and stronger and smarter than you and you need to act like it.”

“OF COURSE YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME!” He bellowed back, giving my shoulders a shake before setting me back away from him. “THAT’S NEVER GOING TO STOP ME FROM PROTECTING YOU.” He stalked over to where my helmet had bounced and picked it up, his movements jerky from emotion. One breath, two, and then he turned and held it out for me, the fire in his motions turning to ice.

“Put it on.” He requested, voice near emotionless.

“I took it off for a reason.” I replied, crossing my arms and trying to match his tone. I don’t think I managed, since I was still crying, but I tried.

“I know you did and I understand but I need you to put it back on. Please.” He insisted, and tried to hold out but I caved and accepted it back.

I put it on.

I put it on, and his shoulders immediately relaxed. “I know you’re an adult. We had your birthday party last week. You’ve been able to vote for a whole year now. But that doesn’t matter to me. You’re my kid, even though you’re an adult. Even though you’re loads more competent than me. I am going to keep you safe. However I can. However I need to. There’s nothing you can do or say that’s going to change that.” He held out his hand then. Angry as I still was, I took it.

He turned and led us down the tunnel, trusting blindly that I’d made it safe. I had, of course I had, but still. Trusting blindly.

But only here.

“You should have come to me about it.” I hissed out, not ready to drop it. “I could figure out who’s leaking your information. You never had to rely on Goldfish-Fucker monologuing. You could at least have trusted me that far.”

“I do trust you.” He replied, voice soft. He gave a wan, painful smile over his shoulder and I winced at it. I wasn’t quite sure why. “In the moment it just didn’t occur to me. You’ve met my former team. You know the administration I worked under. It never even crossed my mind that you’re both competent and reliable. Not because you aren’t, but because I’ve never had anyone else on my side who is and who doesn’t view me as expendable. I’ve spent over three decades needing to solve issues myself because there was no one on my side. The idea that maybe I don’t have to anymore is still new.”

I glared at our joined hands for a moment before clutching his tighter. I wasn’t going to hurt him, not even with my suit’s enhancements. Not even if I tried. “You shouldn’t have let me come home to your kidnapping scene.”

“I didn’t have a lot of options.” He pointed out. “The only lead I had was the guy kidnapping me, and there wasn’t a chance in any world I was going to let you walk into something dangerous like that. 

“The only way I’m staying safe is if you are too.” I told him, firm and unyielding. “If you go, I’ll come after you. You tell me I’m all you have but you’re all I have too. If you jump, I’ll jump. If you go back, I’ll go back. And if you die? I’m going to burn it all down. All of it. Because I don’t want it if you’re not there. So you need to remember that and stay safe. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.” He replied, unable to keep the soft smile from his face even though he was trying. “I hear you. I love you too.”

“Asshole.”

You the worlds greatest villain, has just been legally adopted by the hero after finding out your identity. And the fact that you are a minor.

[nicetrybuster]

i had an idea to request and i saw yours are open so maybe it’s a sign lol. could you write about sanji taking the reader to meet zeff?? maybe they’re part of the straw hat crew and became really serious so sanji knew he had to introduce them to zeff or something it’s really up to you. i hope you have a good day or night <33

Sorry I didn't reply to this, someone close to me is going to the no kings protest and I helped make signs and it took a while :)

Curly brows

You and sanji coincidentally ended up in the same island when the Kuma guy teleported you guys away. And in that time period, your relationship became stronger and better than before

Which was really surprising to some people!! I mean, we all love the cook but I don't think anyone would guess that he'd get into a whole relationship with someone, especially with how he treats other woman.

But he was really sweet. Calling you pet names, holding the door for you, giving you massages, kissing you and the best part was the food.

But he opened up to you, like he did with no one else before. He'll go to you first when he feels like he isn't comfortable with his surroundings, But he'll play it off as a joke, acting all tough and gentlemen like when deep down he still acts like that kid locked in a cage...

And you always do the same because no matter what he does, he just wants to be loved genuinely and unconditionally.

And he knows you know, but that's okay. Because he trusts you like nothing else, he'd rather die than make you feel invalidated.

And right now, he just felt like it was respectful to bring you to his father- I mean zeff :)

So off you went!

And went..

And went....

Ok, so the trip to the east blue was a LITTLE longer than expected, but that's fine, as long as your cook is here, you'll never be bored!

Your bored. Laying on your back staring at the ceiling on your bed in the middle of the night. Your arm on your head and you just couldn't sleep a bit, you were Soo excited to meet zeff, I mean you still are it's just sooo boooring

You turn to your husband and traced your fingers over his eyebrows while he was asleep. Sanji's handsome, yeah. But right now he looks so.. cute! At peace with everything too.. he never really looks so peaceful, he's always stressed. More so after the whole Kuma incident and even MORE so after he saw the newspapers and all about Ace's.. passing

He even grew a little bit of a beard so the next time he would see Luffy, Luffy would look at him as a safe space.. yeah you had no clue what he was saying.

But that's fine too. Going on this trip means the world to you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

He tucked you into the crook of his neck. Mumbling something about sweets, unconsciously kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You loved how he loved you even in his sleep.

Zeff was.... Interesting to say the least? To save the shock, he was already told sanji was coming. They had to close the whole restaurant! Let's say he just wasn't happy about that.. (as if the restaurant was doing well anyways)

After a barrage of kisses from Sanji because "he just wanted to make sure you weren't nervous!" You finally left your room

OH HE WANTS THAT COOKIE BAAAAAAD

You came out in casual clothing, right in front of Sanji smiling while the rising sun hit your face bowing in gratitude at you beauty

Zeff came out in dirty and stained chef clothing, walking like he didn't care if Sanji was there.. the sun completely missed him making an ugly shadow that was his face, he didn't even smile or anything, just gruff breathing and ignoring people.

You both stood there, sanji was very obviously carefree and looking over your shoulder. While zeff was looking directly at you, a piercing gaze. Looking cold and stern.

"ZEEEFFF"

"SANJII"

...They reunited like they haven't seen each other in YEARS running into each other's arms, laughing and everything! You genuinely thought that sanji was in a gang for a second there

Their little reunion hug was followed by laughter and cheers

Sanji introduced you to everyone, and I mean EVERYONE

It was pretty fun at first, he even told you the name of his pet mouse (?)

You tasted a lot of food and got offered stuff, got teased too! They were already treating it like they knew you for months. And after a bit you saw sanji sitting outside,

You quickly joined him.

"this was the place Luffy convinced me to be on his crew"

"oh really? I wonder how he did it"

"maybe he's just good with his words, he convinced me to leave this place"

He was laying on your lap. He never wanted to look vulnerable to anyone, so this was special. You looked down at him smiling softly, stroking his hair while talking..

"that was a good decision"

You said, kissing his forehead. And you said that with certainty.

He looked at you and you looked away, his face going more pink by the second, his free hand touching his forehead.

Even though he was a perv, you guys never really kissed like that, you never really kissed at all contrary to everyone's belife

Ok WHO would be brave enough to kiss sanji, he's FINNNNE

But today, YOU gave him the first kiss. Not because of the occasion, but because you love him.

He sat up with an elbow on the ground, his now free hand turning your head towards him. Your face was burning red.

And you just... Looked at each other?

He knows you love him,

You know he loves you too..

So you pull closer towards each other..

And that's how the love cook got his first kiss ♡✿

I loved writing this!! Sorry if it's a bit dry I'm not feeling too well right now :)

[theredharlotybf]

Hi! I just read your post, If your requests are open then I’d love to ask for anything with Toby! I’m absolutely starved for any SFW content about him—but NSFW is also very appreciated if that’s your vibe 👀

Honestly, I just want to give you full creative freedom, but I’m also super curious about your headcanons for him. So really, anything at all would totally make my day 💖 Thanks either way!

AN: Hi everyone! Hope no one minds how long this is, my first time writing headcannons, not a professional yet but hopefully i get there soon.

Ticci Toby Headcannons

Disclaimer: Blood, Violence, Gore, Bullying, Seccual content, I make these up as I go, don't judge me.

PERSONAL HEADCANONS

Toby, Toby, Toby. Where do we start with Toby?

I know a lot of people see a hyperactive and silly goofy guy so, not a lot of people really take him seriously.But he is so much more than that.

Born with all those mental disorders does a number on you, especially at such a young age. He never learned how to interact with other people his age- his tourette syndrome which led others to call him ‘Ticci Toby? He never had a real friend in his life.

Of course, there was his older sister Lyra who always did her best to protect him. What with their abusive father screaming abuse at him, Lyra and the mother- taking his rage out on Toby by beating him while in a drunken frenzy. Even in those times, Lyra came to his defense- taking some of those punches even though she knew he couldn’t feel pain due to his CIPA.

I imagine their mother at the time would dissociate whenever their father was like this, just pretend it didn't happen and put herself somewhere else. A lot of people do this when in situations concerning domestic violence- but since she was too focused on protecting her own mental state- she completely forgot about the safety and wellbeing of both Toby and Lyra.

Then came the accident. Both Toby and Lyra were driving home one night after going to see a movie when all of sudden- a drunk driver is carelessly carousing on the wet and slippery backroad to their house and crashes into them. Lyra is killed on Impact and Toby- thanks to his CIPA is unfazed- but is forced to watch his sister die right before him. His safe space and only friend. But even after her funeral, his mother kept on dissociating and his father just got worse- the beatings, the verbal abuse…..the voices.

He was angry-he was depressed, he was losing his sanity.

How do you help a boy like Toby who is diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Bipolar disorder, ADHD and to top it all off- PTSD, who lost his sister in a gruesome way- his father abusing him in every way he knows and his mother- playing blind to all of it.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair. Why did it have to be Lyra who died and not their dad? Hell- their mother can die too for all he cares- if she did- neither him nor Lyra would be in this mess. But running away wouldn’t have solved anything- he was still a minor. If he ran away from home- police would simply find him and drag him right back.

That is…. If he had a home to return to…

The solution was staring him right in the face- they told him the answer- yet he didn’t want to see it. But the minute he picked up those hatchets, gripping the handles in both hands, he no longer felt afraid.

He never knew killing could be so cathartic before swinging those hatchets down into his father- the beautiful smell of metal coating his skin as his father’s blood squirted onto him as if it were a geyser. The look of terror in his eyes that looked far too much like his sisters. He plucked them out and squished them under his boots. His screams rang throughout the garage and ironic as it is, his mother finally snapped out of it when she realised her son was murdering her husband.

While his mother called the police- he took a canister of gasoline and a match, setting fire to the neighborhood. He wouldn’t let the police take him- for something that was his right and yet- when the fires set in around him- the only thing he could think about was Lyra.

If he died, he knew there was a chance he might see her again- but he knew there was only one place he was going and it surely wasn’t heaven.

“Toby….. My child….”

The voices in his head had come again, his strength- had come in the form of an eight foot tall man with no eyes, no nose or mouth. A faceless being who stood among the burning trees, looking down at his helpless figure as he struggled to breathe

“This is not the end for you…. Your work has only begun…”

Before he blacked out, a searing burn was felt on his back, Toby had become the Slendermans’s proxy- and yet…. He didn’t hate it.

Toby felt as though he had ascended from the frightened and helpless boy he once was to a man- a servant of the Operator with the duty to murder any and all his Master deems as a target. He was strong, he was powerful and he had the backing of the most dangerous entity in the world.

Strangely enough- his master had other Proxies working for him. Two men called Tim and Brain, a bit older than Toby but more or less on the saner side. Tim was quite irritant and cranky while Brain was silent but sarcastic when he wanted to be. They clearly had some baggage but Toby wasn’t all that interested in knowing- both Tim and Brian- or rather, Masky and Hoodie were simply co-workers. One of them would always go for the kill, and the other would always film it.

Then came Kate, a new Proxy for their master. She never spoke a word and yet everyone could sense her bloodlust every time she walked into a room. She was not to be fucked with and Toby could respect that. Everyone just left everyone the fuck alone, get the jobs done and be done with it.

Though, a lot had changed in terms of his lifestyle. ((Realistically, there is no Slender Mansion ;-;))

Slenderman’s domain was spread out within the forest of the countryside, along with plenty of abandoned cabins ((Squatting in some or killing the original owners and taking it for themselves)). Even though Toby was a man now- he had to adapt to being an adult quickly- sure he could murder people and take their money- but it wasn’t as steady of an occupation as you would imagine, I mean, not every victim they come across is swimming in money so- they had to get jobs.

Toby has multiple jobs, working as a farmhand, a lumberjack, he even picked up some mechanical work after wrapping his head around it- guess it did help that his dad was a mechanic.

Now he fixes Masky’s car and Hoodies’s truck and they pay him back with either cash, cigarettes- alcohol. All the same to him.

He only wears his mouth guard when hunting- when he’s out in public, he puts a gauze over his cheek where he chewed through.

Sleeper build for days- yet has such an unhealthy diet of take out, microwave dinners and tinned food. This boy can’t cook to save his life.

MEETING TOBY

How would you meet Toby? He is quite the solitary creature, he won’t leave the forest if he can help it- the only times he ventures into the city is when he has a target there or when it's his turn to shop for supplies.

He won’t go to you so you go to him.

You live a stressful life with your own shit to deal with- a breakdown was imminent and when you crashed out, you realized this lifestyle wasn’t for you and getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city was just what you needed.

You bought an old Cabin nearly twenty years old, the owner went missing years ago and presumed dead, since then, it's just been sitting on the market place- waiting to be bought. You jumped at the opportunity, taking your pets and moving to the countryside. 

When you get there with the real estate agent- you notice some belongings, men's clothes, old food in the fridge- the agent tells you its most likely squatters but judging by the rotting food in the fridge, the squatters haven’t been here in a while and called up a locksmith to come and change all the locks in the house free of charge since no one knew the residence was being lived in.

Though, you did feel bad about whoever was living here, you understood times could get tough, hence why after scrubbing the fridge clean, you threw the old clothes in the wash, hanging them up to dry and then folding them neatly and leaving them in a box.

The previous owner of the cabin was an older man who enjoyed hunting, the house was decorated in taxidermied animals and it wasn’t really for you, preferring to put all of them up for auction instead. Over the next few weeks, you got to cleaning up the cabin, replacing old furniture with new ones and stuff from your old home. You brightened up the place with fresh coats of paint, new curtains and carpet, replacing the broken windows and fixing all the creaky doors yourself. Even installing an automatic dog door for your pets so they can come in and out themselves.

You planted flowers at the front of the cabin while starting your own little vegetable garden. The old smell of tobacco and musk was replaced with scented candles and the smell of your new hobby, baking. You had completely transformed the old cabin and it had become more like home.

Little did you know- this little home of yours was one of the less frequently used hideouts for Ticci Toby.

And when he first laid eyes upon it, he was shocked. Sure, he has his main cabin deeper in the woods- but this hideout was one that none of the other proxies knew about- and it pissed him off. Who the hell moved into his place? Was the previous owner not warning enough?

He walked up to the front door and- “Oh! Hello!”

He didn’t notice the comfy swing seat at the end of the porch, there you were, your knees tucked to your chest, a book in hand, your pet cuddled up to and by your seat was a small table with a glass of lemonade. You were careful not to bother your snoozing baby as you placed your book down and stood up. “Can I help you sir?”

Toby’s mind went completely blank. He couldn’t put words into what he was feeling but something about you just looked….. Sweet. You didn’t look like a bad person, you were wearing blue slippers with cartoon animals, a large sweater over some leggings.

“I…. left some stuff here…” He muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. You just nodded your head. “Ah, just wait one second then.” You opened the front door and headed inside the house, he peeked inside and noticed that the once yellow walls were gone, a fresh white coat brightened up the home, new furniture, a new flat screen t.v. to replace the old one with the big fat back. He could even smell something sweet and tasty cooking.

You re-emerged from the home, carrying a box full of his clothes, clean and folded. He didn’t remember cleaning them when he last left. “I have some cherry pie in the oven, would you like some?”

“Oh- I don’t think…” He couldn’t talk anymore where you got your oven mitts and took the pie out of the oven, the delicious smell making his stomach growl. You packed him up a slice of pie in some tupperware. He was confused, surely you would have realised he was the one previously squatting in your home, yet you washed his clothes and gave him some dessert?

“You take care of yourself…. Mr?”

“Toby… Just Toby…” He muttered.

“Toby… that's a good name, you looked after yourself Toby, and enjoy that pie!”

He went back to his main hideout, wiping off a dirty spoon on his trousers before using it to eat your cherry pie. It was good. Very good. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a homemade pie. Actually, now that he thinks about it- he can’t seem to remember any positive memories of having dinner. Mom just made dinner, no starters, mains or… desserts. She just just made everyone a plate and that was it.

He went back to see you, he had to see you again.

But only this time, you weren’t aware he was there.

It was annoying at first because you always got up super early and he wasn’t exactly a morning person. You would get up and water your plants, refill the bird feeder and you made breakfast that looked way too healthy and some type of tea he knew wasn’t that good. You also went for a walk with your pet which gave him time to sneak into the cabin. He found out your name, your age, your birthday, even your blood type. He even managed to get access to your laptop since you didn’t turn it off. He went through your emails and a bit more digging- he found out about your breakdown after someone continuously harassed you at your last home and that your doctor advised you to ease your stress levels and live a more relaxed life, a new place where no one knew where you lived but it wasn’t what he would call a relaxed life, seeing as you liked to keep yourself busy.

You worked from home now and only went to work if there was an important meeting. But you mostly kept to yourself, alone in that cabin with your pets- he wanted to talk to you again- he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to find out what it was about you that drew him in.

So, he kidnapped your pet.

Yes, dick move, he knows- but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you and after a day of watching you run about, crying your eyes out, yelling for your baby to come home- he reappears, with your pet- saying he found them by his home nearby.

You wept for joy, taking your pet into your arms, smothering them with love and affection, vowing to never let them leave your sight again while taking Toby for bringing them back to you.

You invite Toby back to your home and offer him something to drink. You make him and yourself some coffee while allowing your pet to snack on their favorite treats. You respectfully inquire about the gauze on Toby’s cheek and there he tells you he was born with CIPA and accidentally chewed through his own cheek- it freaks people out to see it and that he hides it.

You then get worried because you gave him some pie last time you saw him and imagined how hard it would be to eat with a missing cheek. He chuckled, telling you he mastered eating his food on the one side of his mouth. He thanks you for looking after his belongings- and didn’t realise he left them behind.

You safely assumed he was a squatter until he said that he and the man who lived in the house before you used to be ‘acquaintances’, that they would hunt together on occasion which made your cheeks light up in embarrassment for assuming he was living in your house illegally. Another lie of course but the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was homeless.

Speaking of appearance- he began to wash himself more frequently, snuck away to the laundromat at the dead of night and washed all his laundry while no one was there. Even stealing cologne from a victim’s house just so he’d smell nice around you and his efforts were not unnoticed.

He would make ‘weekly’ appearances just so he could have his opportunities to interact with you by offering to do some handy work like chopping up some firewood and repairing your car (which suddenly started breaking down all the time!) and finding your pet when they ran off, you would invite him in for conversations and a meal- you once tried to get his social media but when he told you he had no social media- you found that refreshing- but at the same time, he lives out in the boonies, most people in the countryside down need social media so you just acquired a basic phone number instead.

Although his visits are ‘weekly’. He comes by your house every day to…. Keep an eye on you.

And when I say keep an eye, I mean watching you through the bushes as you tend to your garden and looking through your window as you go about your chores at home.

He was once luckily enough one night to catch you in the act- your hands under your shorts….

He never had the chance to engage in such acts but seeing you in that position was enough to make him dizzy.

But it made him stop and think- what was it about you that made him keep coming back? Sure- he found you attractive- he wasn’t ashamed to admit that but it was something more than that- despite his ticks and inconsistent mood swings- you didn’t treat him like a freak like everyone else did. He wanted to chalk it up to you having your own mental breakdown but looking at your personal info, it was more or less stress and work related anxiety that caused you to feel from society. Not that he didn’t understand how shit society was but when he interacted with you…. You never faked it.

Your warmth and kindness, not the fake smiles or carefully worded comments given to him by others. It reminds him of…. her. And suddenly, he felt like he was at home again.

His one real human connection, someone who saw him as he was and not a freak-

What the hell was thinking?

He was a murderer, a killer, a Proxy of the Slenderman. He can’t ever be human again. You didn’t know the extent of who he was- if you did- you would have gone running for the hills and never looked back.

This realization hurt- because he was really starting to become attached to you but he knew he was already crossing the line, befriending you like this. You know who he is and that was dangerous enough, he was putting the other proxies at risk and it was only a matter of time before you learned of his true identity.

He made up his made and gathered his hatchets.

He walked towards you home, both blades in hand. He didn’t want you to suffer- which is why he would make it quick and painless.

That was….. Until he saw another car in front of your house and a pet hiding under the porch- notably terrified.

He ran up to your home and saw you.

Tied up to a chair, bound and gagged as tears streaming down your face as a man who he had never seen before circled the chair you sat in while twirling a knife in his hands.

“What made you run away… darling? I’ve been with alot of women but you have to be the most ungrateful one of all! I’ve bought you the best gifts money can buy- I’ve took you on all those extravagant dates- fuck- I left my damn wife for you and you dare reject me? ME!? After everything I’ve done for!”

Toby’s first began to shake with fury- how dare this prick treat you like this?! The files… this must be the guy who was harassing you.

The guy ripped the gag from your mouth to allow you to speak.

“You never told me you were married! You lied to me from the moment we met and you try to pin this on me?! You were the one who pursued me and destroyed your own marriage! If you could cheat on your own wife- what made me think I could expect any loyalty from you? I told you as much and you still wouldn’t leave me alone- despite all those protection orders I had on you!”

“But what you and I had was true love- my wife never made me feel as fulfilled as you did- I only wanted you to know the extent of my feelings for you… then you just had to get the police involved….”

Then he stabbed the knife into your thigh

“And now, because of you- I am ruined! Everyone thinks I’m a degenerate! I got fired and my wife won’t let me see my children! We could have been happy together and you had to go and fuck it all up- now… I’m going to take my time with you… slowly.. Intimately.. I’m going to break you in every way I know how and leave your body in a ditch-”

Toby didn’t say anything else before busting down the door-  his blood raced to his face- hidden by his mouth guard and orange goggles. You both looked over at his direction, his arrival unexpected. Your stalker’s face said it all, he was terrified. Toby clearly overshadowed him with his height and physique, those two blood stained hatchets in his hands stating his intentions clearly.

“H-Hey… wait a minute there bud- lets talk about this-”

Toby didn’t give him another second before launching one of his hatchets into his chest. He screamed like a little bitch before he sauntered over to him, looking down at him. His dilated pupils studying his form through his orange goggles.

“Wanna B-break her huh? All because your a disloyal f-faggot who wasn’t worthy of a decent relationship. It's people like you that make this world so u-ugh..unbearable to live in. I’m not even gonna take my time with you…. You're not worthy of all that attention… but you’re not gonna die a painless death- that I can assure you….!”

True to his word- he ripped out the hatchet from the stalker’s chest and brought them down on him again and again, relishing in their screams until they eventually died out.

And all he could hear was your cries.

When he finally snapped out of it, he realised what he had done- you lovely kitchen which was always so clean and tidy was now saturated in blood- you were covered in the blood splattered by Toby’s reckless abandon. You shivered, crying weakly as you shivered- you were so absolutely terrified and he knew he was the cause. He wanted to run out of that cabin- to never darken your doorstep again-

“Toby… is that you?” You whimpered.

You looked up at him- with a smile breaking out into tears ago.

What happened after that was quick. He untied you, stuck you in the bathtub and let the shower head soak you as he went to clean up your kitchen as best he could, getting rid of the body and the car he came in. He let your pet back inside which gave you a lot of comfort before you rejoined him in the kitchen, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. You had a towel placed on your thigh to stop the bleeding and Toby was able to sow up your leg- using his own experience from showing up his own wounds, and yet, after he finished tending to you, you had such an empty look in your eyes.

You wanted the truth from him, no more lies.

He spilled everything, he was a deluded murderer- he killed his father and set his neighborhood on fire, he came into the service of the operator where their sole purpose is to make sacrifices in his name- how… he was planning to kill you tonight. He couldn’t lie to you, not anymore.

You were clearly taken aback- sitting on your couch and staring into space, holding your pet close to you before asking him if any of your interactions were real- was he just trying to get close to you so she would kill you.

He remembers grabbing your hands, he would never hurt you, after tonight, seeing you like that killed him so much, he never wanted to see you hurt or scared again.

You ask him to leave your house and to give you a week to think.

He obeys but not without checking his phone every five minutes- he never wanted you to hate him but if you hated him- he couldn’t live with himself. To think the only girl he ever came to care about and he fucked it up for what?

He got sloppy with his missions- targets nearly escaped and he had to hunt them down and kill them before they got away. So much so, his master confronted him about his work. And what made things worse- Slender had known about you all along. Whiched confused Toby, but his master’s reply was simple.

“I care not for your relationships outside of work but it is your job to make sure those who know of your work are kept to be indiscretion. If indulging in the flesh and company of a female is what will keep you at the top of your game- then let it be so- but if she tells anyone about you or the others…. I will dispatch her myself.”

Finally a week went by before you called again, when he came to your home- the kitchen smelt of chemicals- fresh pain and cleaning materials to remove the stains and the smell. It irritated his nose but you looked more angry. You had been through all the motions over the past week.

He asks if you and him were over and you tell him it depends on what he says.

He felt as if he was walking on thin ice before he sat down across from you. You ask if it was always his intention to kill you. He refutes this- you were always more of a curiosity, he didn’t understand why you had treated him so nicely even though he was a stranger, someone who you didn’t know. That made you even angrier, claiming it was called basic decency- that not everyone is a horrible judgemental human being- you were nice and kind to him because that's how you were with everyone- despite his disfigurement. You were hurt because of how he automatically assumed the worst of you when you met.

You also bring up the fact that he was watching you which surprised him. But you reminded him that you had a stalker before you had come to the countryside so you had recognised when someone was watching you. He admitted to watching you from afar and to looking at your private information. You had to get up from your seat- your face red with anger, betrayed at the fact that the one friend you thought you had made would do something so underhanded. That it disgusted you.

Yet- you couldn’t completely dismiss the fact that he did save you from being raped and murdered.

He asked what that guy was about. You explained that you met him at a company dinner where he asked you out, you had no objections but he brought you on super expensive dinners and good gifts like jewellery and bouquets of flowers- practically showering you with affection. That's when you knew something was up. Because if something was too good to be true, it probably is, which is why you did a deep dive into your date’s background when you found out he was married with children.

You had urged him to go back to his wife and both of you forget your affair ever existed- even though you never slept with him thank god- but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He would show up at your house at ungodly hours and send gifts to your work. You made several complaints but no one ever took you seriously. You had a doorbell camera installed at your old residences and in one video- he left a dead bird at your door and only then people had started to take you seriously but by then- the bird was the last straw and you wanted out as fast as you could. 

You asked Toby what his angle was- you had been through enough shit as it was and if he was gonna do anything to disturb the peace you fought so hard for in your life.

He promised he had no desire to hurt you but you reminded him he came to your home that night armed and ready- if that man had not been there, torturing you- what would he have done?

He didn’t know how to answer- but he knew that no matter what, he couldn’t lose you, but what could he say? What could he say…?

“Toby… I think you should leave-”

“I l-love you.” 

His lips moved on their own, he couldn’t control his words, his voice- they forced themselves out of his mouth. You stared at him with disbelief in your eyes. “You love me? How can you say that- I don’t…”

“I screwed up…. But give me a chance… I will make it up to you for the rest of my life if that what it takes”

You didn’t want to believe him, he’s done a lot of terrible things in order to be close to you, how safe were you with him near and yet….. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s never had a genuine relationship in his life. He was a sad….lonely…and miserable boy with not a hope in the world.

But…. you were just as alone as him. Both of you sat in that darkness- with only each other and no other person to support either of you.

SFW HEADCANONS

You wanted to start off your relationship slowly with him- if he really wanted to be with you, he would have to work to earn your trust back. Which is easier said than done, so you laid your ground rules. First and foremost- boundaries. No more was Toby going to sneak around your home nor snoop like a creep. He is to keep his nose out of your computer, phone, documents- anything confidential! If he wants to visit, he will do so during the day and he will text you beforehand and not show up randomly. 

When you found out he was the servant of this demon- god- whatever it was- you didn’t want to know. It was hard enough to stomach that he would come and go, after potentially hurting and murdering a lot of people. He would tell you these people were the scum of society- but it didn’t help to stomach it any easier. Toby could do as he pleases- just as long as he didn’t bring it to your home.

Also, he was no longer allowed anywhere near your pet after finding out he would take them just to gain your trust, and you were keeping an extra close eye on your engine. As much as Toby hated the fact he was now walking on eggshells around you- he would rather this never never speak to you again.

When he was allowed to come over- you never left his sight and you never left his. If you were gardening, he would do his best to help you- but he mostly stuck to cutting up your firewood and what not. You always made him a meal when he came over and he was always happy to eat what you made, in fact, he believed he had gained more muscle by eating your foods. But you would always make him something sweet as well.

You also did more research on his conditions as well- seeing what you could do to help better accommodate him- Toby wasn’t on any medication, he stopped any medication the day he killed his family. As worrying as that was, it wasn’t like you could make him take meds- but the specific meds he would need would have to be prescribed by a doctor and as far as anyone was concerned, Toby was dead.

You two would watch movies, play some games and sometimes, Toby would take you hiking. You visited many places where you two could sit and have lunch together- it was a nice peace.

Sooner or later, you two got to talking about each other’s past. Toby told you all about his childhood, how everyone would bully him because his tourette syndrome, how they used to beat him up but because of his CIPA, he could never feel anything, but he could feel shame because he knew they were hurting him- calling him names, like ‘Ticci’ Toby because of his ticks. And to reinforce that- sometimes he would flinch when you put your hand on him before you said anything.

To that end- you thought that physical touch was not something that he wanted, so you refrained from touching him for a while- but he hated that. He wanted you to touch him- because he would never feel comfortable with anyone else touching him. It started with you two holding hands, the rough skin of his fingers rubbing against your smooth ones.

He liked to be held and to hold you. Sometimes, when you're at the kitchen, he’ll come up behind you and loop his arms around your waist while burying his head between your neck. When you watch movies, he likes to lay his head on your lap while you run your soft fingers through his hair.

Your first kiss with him was not what you had expected- he and you had taken a trip down to a nearby lake where you rented a boat. He rowed you both out while the sun shone down on the pair of you, it was a lovely day. You decided to give Toby a peck on the cheek and he looked shocked.

For a moment, you thought you messed up before he grabbed your face and pulled his lips towards yours. You remember gasping his name as he sucked on your face as you both fell to the floor of the boat with Toby on top of you.

Toby didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing, so it was up to you to teach him how to kiss. It was awkward- teaching a guy to kiss- but Toby often gets carried away with his kisses. He kisses you everywhere that has skin exposed, your face, your neck, your fingers- your legs.

When you finally came back from the lake, your neck was full of bitemarks and hickies from Toby’s love attacks.

Toby became even bolder and bolder with his affections- he was a quick learner.

NSFW HEADCANONS 

Oooooh boy, figured we get here eventually.

Toby didn’t have kissing experience prior to meeting you, what makes you think he has any sexual experience?

He doubts masterbation counts. Fuck, he has alot of porn back at his main hideout- he has needs but no one to release them on. Sure- he's a proxy and there have been many female victims- but the thought of forcing himself on someone makes him sick- despite his twisted sense of morality.

Though, he is a bit of a voyeur if you're really asking. He stalks his victims, sometimes those victims will be busy knocking boots with one another- and you. 

He has tried to wipe that night from his mind- you were in the privacy of your bedroom, your curtains were closed but he was able to see all your actions through the crack of your curtain. He wanted to touch you down there as well and after a while of dating, you believed you were ready.

You told Toby to come over and when he was on his way, you got ready. You had a previous hunch he had seen you changing and massaging your sweet spot- although you had dealt with enough stalker business- the thought of Toby watching you? You would lie, it turned you on.

Imagine Toby’s face when he comes into your home and finds you on your bed, black lacy panties and bra, and when he stood there, you told him to stay. Spreading your legs, your fingers tracing your pussy through the thin silk of your underwear. You could hear his breath hitch before you snuck your fingers inside, playing with your clit as you stuck your fingers inside your heated walls.

Toby looked like a man in the desert, thirsty for water while you slipped a tit out of your bra, it pebbled at the cold air as you gave it a slight pinch, making your core tighten as you repeated a single word.

“Toby….Toby….oh Toby!”

You made him absolutely feral, he practically lunged at you, ripping your bra off your body as you went for your tits.

Toby loves your tits, if there were ever a perfect stress toy, if it would be them, they just fit so snuggly in his hands, he loves seeing the reactions you make as he pinches at your nipples, bites them, flicks at them with his tongue.

This boy has a lot of pent up energy, a lot of pent up libido, you were both each others’ first and you know how they say the first is the worst?  That couldn’t have been any more false. Toby had you dripping before sinking his cock inside you. Not only did you get super worked up after he bullied your titties- he wanted to taste your cunt. He always wondered what pussy tastes like.- he even said this to you as he pulled your hips up, his arms wrapped around your torso before going tongue first. He had your legs suspended in the air with the way he helped you and there was no escaping his grip. He was a man on a mission, his tongue wiggling around in your cunny like an alien object while you grabbed at your sheets.

Toby’s penis is a wonderful size and shape, six inches- a good width that curved upward, uncircumcised of course. Toby never thought much of his penis- he hated looking at it- there was a time where after gym class, the boys in the locker room stole his gym clothes and ripped his towel off him- he was a kid a time and he remember their jeers clearly- making fun of the size of his dick while some took photos. ((They’re dead now.))

He hesitated for a bit but when he finally started fucking you, he swore he saw stars in your eyes. “Yes Toby! Oh- fuck! Toby- you’re filling me up so good! Give me more Toby- please!”

He gained back a confidence he didn’t realise he had or needed.

Your first time was vanilla, just him on top of you while he fucked his cock back into your cunny over and over again as tears weld up in your eyes from the sheer fullness of him

With it, came a sort of dominance he displayed over you- he loved seeking you weak from pleasure- he loved your submission, the control he had over you.

“You're mine, do you understand… this little pussy belongs to me.” He would snarl in your ear while fingering your pussy. He can be quite mean, he likes to call you his slut while making you masterbate in front of him- you recently invested in a vibrator and you’ll sit there, legs spread and cum as many times as he wants- whether you're over stimulated or not, even go as far as to slap that pussy after its all red, swollen and dripping with yours and his spent.

When he comes to your home and you're doing ordinary things, you're the one incharge, he’s the one who can’t put a foot wrong, but in the bedroom, he’s in charge and you have to watch yourself. Speaking of submission, he loves seeing you tied up, he loves your tiny body against his. He’ll fuck you everywhere he can, on the bed, against the wall, on the floor, on the sick counter, in your shower. He even once got you outside of the grass where he fucked you into the dirt.

But he’s not entirely ruthless, he’ll run you a bath while you hydrate yourself with some water. Because of his CIPA, he doesn’t really feel hot or cold so one time, afterwards, he tried to put you in a bath- you screamed your head off because the water was too hot- but he’s gotten better at evening out the temperature. He’ll sit with you in the bath and wash your hair while your relax against his chest

He’ll change your sheets and dress you up in airy pajamas before tucking both himself and you into bed, big spooning you with his head buried in your neck.

“You're my home now (Y/n).... so please…. Don’t ever leave me.”

[filmbyjy]

let me go

PAIRING: yang jungwon x fem!reader

SYPNOSIS: falling in love with your childhood best friend was something that you didn't expect to happen. you knew jungwon never had feelings for you so what happens when he starts dating some other girl? will you learn to let go or fight for him?

WARNING(s): not a happy ending with jungwon. heeseung is your older brother in here (in case people think you're gonna get with hee). you choose someone else to love.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K words

a/n: if you've seen this before on wattpad. just know it is my work. so yeah. don't worry, not stolen. i just wanted to upload some works that i had written on wattpad about 3 years ago that i didn't reupload onto tumblr. here is the link to the original. i am also currently revamping some chapters on there so yeah.

Hanging out with 7 other boys was of course a crazy time. Each of them had their own personalities but when they all came together everything just becomes perfect and chaotic.

"WOOOO PARTY." A few of them yell as they hold up each pillow from your room. Your mom thought it was a great idea to let the 6 boys stay over. How foolish of your mom, doesn't she know boys stink and are very loud? She already has one son, she should know better.

"Heeseung oppa, could you please calm your friends down." You yelled over their screaming. Heeseung groans.

"Why me? Aren't they your friends too!" Heeseung, aka your older brother, yells back. You grabbed your phone and clicked on a loud noise app. The only reason you have it is because of situations like this. The other boys covered their ears, wincing at the loud alarm that played.

"Calm down. My mom wanted us to have a sleepover not a party dimwits." You say. Ni-Ki folds his arms. It seems as though he didn't agree with your statement.

"Well it's not a sleepover without the party element." Ni-Ki says. You sighed.

"Jungwon, you're on my side right? Can't we just have a normal sleepover where we watch movies and cuddle? Besides, we're all sleeping in the guestroom and it's too small for all of us to run around and party." He thinks for a second. A huge smirk plasters over his face.

"Nah that's for your girly sleepovers. We fight to our death with pillows!" Jungwon says and that set a pillow fight in your bedroom. You grabbed your pillow and blankets and went to the living room.

You didn't want to handle the boys right now, not when you're on your period. You breathed in and out, hoping to have the patience to deal with 7 chaotic boys for the next 3 days. But what could you do? They're your friends(and brother) after all. You could hear them screaming out loud and running around. 

The next day, the 7 boys practically dragged you to an arcade saying 'they will get you a plushie for being so disruptive last night'. Did you believe that? Nope, getting things from a claw machine is like a scam of money. You were certain that they rigged the machine to get easy money out of kids.

"Look sis, a panda. Just like you with your dark circles under your eyes." Heeseung teases. You hit your brother on his left arm which earns a yelp from him.

"Don't test me. You know I'm on my damn period." You warn him. Ah right, he must have let that slipped from his mind. His eyes widened and he starts profusely apologising.

Anyways, everyone had their fun at the arcade when a group of girls walked in. One in particular caught Jungwon's eyes. Like a simple love at first sight. Jungwon blushes when she looks in his direction. She sends him a small smile before walking away with her friends.

"Dude, she totally just looked at you." Jay says. Jungwon clearly was flustered and you on the other hand felt your heart sinking. It was like a sting to your heart.

You've always had a huge crush on Jungwon. Being friends with him the longest since the both of you grew up together in the same neighbourhood. He was in fact your neighbour so both your parents had became close before you were born. Eventually, it led to you and Jungwon having playdates after the both of you were born. Which were extremely fun since he taught you about making paper planes and boats.

Developing feelings for him was never what you expected but because of puberty and you start to notice him loosing a little of his baby fats. He gotten a lot more handsome as the years went on. Your heart races whenever you see him on the field playing soccer with the other boys. The smirk he wore whenever he scored a goal and did his usual celebration.

Heeseung notices your change in behaviour so he pats hair. Being your big brother means he knows how you're feeling and you've told him before that you liked Jungwon. You trusted him and he promised not to tell a single soul and up till now nobody knows about this.

"Why don't you ask for her number?" Jake suggests as he pats the boy.

"You think I should?" Jungwon asks.

"Yeah! Who knows, she might like you." Jay nudges the boy. Jungwon turns to you.

"You think I should ask her?"

"H-Huh? Yeah go ahead." You put on a fake smile. Why did he even ask you? It's his free will to do so. Everyone else notices how you sound a little different except Jungwon. He smiles. You could see it in his eyes, he was determined to get that girl's number despite being shy.

"I'll go ask her. If I don't come back alive, send Sunoo hyung for me." Sunoo rolls his eyes. He flicks Jungwon's forehead.

"I'm not going to get you. You can walk here by yourself." He sasses. The others chuckle. Jungwon rolls his eyes before walking over to the group of girls.

Sunghoon had been watching you ever since Jungwon laid his eyes on the girl. He had a hunch that you liked Jungwon but he doesn't want to say it in case you didn't want him to know. Sunghoon is the type of friend that wants to protect you, if heeseung wasn't there, he will be the replacement brother for the short span of time.

"(name), can I talk to you for a bit?" Sunghoon asks. You nod. He pulls you over somewhere quieter.

"Are you okay?" You sighed at his words.

"Did heeseung tell you?"

"No. I just had a feeling."

"Was I obvious?" You had frowned. Sunghoon ruffles your hair.

"Not at all. I was just observing, you know I always have your back. Besides, you looked sad. I got a little protective seeing the sadness in your eyes."

"Thank you, Sunghoon." You smiled a little. This time actually genuine.

"Come here. Want a hug?" Sunghoon holds out his arms. You hugged him instantly, hiding your face on his chest. He was always great at giving hugs since you know he was tall and a sweet person. His hugs felt like home and you were always grateful for that.

Jungwon on the other hand had spotted this because he was happily skipping from the other end. He frowns, he doesn't know why but he just does. Shouldn't he feel happy he got the cute girl's number? Why was he feeling upset when you were hugging Sunghoon? Must just be the protectiveness he had over you. After hugging, you and Sunghoon went back to the group. Jungwon was talking about the girl and how she was so pretty up close. She was super kind, what he described. It only stings your heart even more.

The 8 of you travelled back home, you decided to wash up and change into pyjamas. Tonight, you were hoping to watch something to make you feel better. Maybe a sad movie? So no one would think you're crazy for crying? Yeah, that was the best option. You needed to cry and you had to mask it with watching a sad movie. You settled on one movie, it was about a little girl losing her family. She grew up all alone and you just practically burst into tears. You were hoping no one was going to walk into your room but...

"Hey (name), do you know where are the chips- Are you okay?" Jay asks a little concerned. You nod while pointing to the movie playing on your laptop.

"J-Just a sad story." He pouts.

"You know, you told me before that if you watch sad movies it means you're actually sad so what's up?" Jay says as he settles next to you on the bed.

"Am I that ugly, Jay?" His eyes widened, startled that you asked that out of the blue.

"Why would you say that?" You had sniffled and Jay reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"I feel like I'm not pretty enough."

"For who? Who said you're ugly. Should I fight the person?" Jay says. You giggle a little.

"I don't think you can fight me, Jay. You can't bare to even hurt me."

"Well, that's because you're my best friend and I love you. You're hyung's baby sister and ours too."

"That's what I am to everyone."

"Of course- Wait do you have a crush on one of us." He narrows his eyes.

"I don't."

"Hmm, denying means you're lying~" You hit his arm.

"I don't like any of you."

"Is it Jake?"

"No."

"Is it Sunghoon?"

"He is like an older brother to me, idiot."

"Then is it Ni-Ki?"

"Again, he is like an annoying little brother."

"Sunoo?"

"No." Jay comes closer. You moved back.

"Then is it me?" He smirks. You rolled your eyes. He was always teasing and you were so done.

"No."

"Definitely not Heeseung hyung. That's just wrong, you're siblings. Blood related siblings."

"You think I'd date my own brother? That's crazy."

"Only in Alabama." Jay says. You burst out laughing. "Then is it...Jungwon?" You kept quiet. He finally his name. 

"It's him isn't it!" You covered jay's mouth.

"Shut up. I don't want anyone to hear about it." He removes the hand on his mouth.

"So am I the first to know?"

"No. Sunghoon and Heeseung oppa already know."

"Well, at least I'm the third person to know!" He smiles. Then he realises. "Crap, then I probably shouldn't have egged him to ask the girl for her number huh...I ruined it for you."

"It's okay. What's done has been done. You can't rewind time. Besides, Jungwon doesn't like me that way." Jay pouts.

"I'm sorry though."

"Jay, it's fine. If he and that girl were to date, I'll be fine. I was never his first choice anyways."

"Ouch that sounds hurtful. You shouldn't put yourself down like that. I'm sure you're someone's first choice."

"Just leave the damn room." You say.

"Alright. I'll leave. Goodnight though." Jay says. He leaves the room quickly.

The next morning, you were about to leave your room when you were shoved back in. Jay hastily shuts the door. He sighs once the bedroom door shuts. The other 5 boys look over at you guilty.

"Don't leave. Jungwon brought the girl to the house and I think they might have a movie night here." Jay says. You look at the others.

"What? But this is my house, why would he-" You had sighed. "You guys know about my crush, don't you?" They scratched their heads.

"Jay, did you tell them?"

"Hey, at least you have the rest of us to warn you. We don't want you to get heart broken,(name)."

"But I already am." You say and that made them go silent. You pushed past them and just went to put on your shoes.

"(name), where are you going?" Heeseung yells out to you. Jungwon hears the commotion, he and the girl turned to the noises.

"Out. I want to be alone."

"But there is going to be a snow storm-" Heeseung yells but you couldn't hear. You had already shut the door and left running out of the house. Sunghoon sighs.

"I'll go get her. If we don't come back, just know I probably got us a hotel room or something." He says. Sunghoon grabs his wallet. He was pretty much an adult now and he does work so he has a debit card.

You stumbled at the lake you loved going to. It was currently frozen so people could ice skate on it. It reminds you of the past where you and Jungwon ice skated for fun. You knew how to skate but he didn't so he kept holding onto you for safety and to balance. It was such an innocent time in your life. Before you started to develop feelings for him.

"Why did I fall for him?" You mumble to yourself as you kicked a small rock from the snowy ground.

"Because feelings change." Sunghoon says. You nearly fell on your butt when you heard Sunghoon's voice.

"What are you doing here."

"Making sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Not even my own brother chases after me." You say bitterly.

"Are you that upset?"

"Yeah, of course. I've liked him for maybe 5 years now. Ever since we turned 13. I've tried so hard to forget the feelings but it just doesn't work."

"Then, will it work if something else happens? If there was someone else in your life that can change that?"

"Huh?" Sunghoon holds you close.

"I don't want to take advantage of you but I just wanted to let you know I've always had feelings for you."

"You said I was practically like your little sister."

"That was to hide my feelings. I've always felt like giving the best thing to you and I knew you liked Jungwon."

"Sunghoon. I'm only 18."

"So? I'm 2 years older. I can treat you way better than Jungwon. He already has someone he likes. Can't you give up your feelings for me?"

"Sunghoon, I-I don't have feelings for you. I'm sorry."

"But what if I try to change that?" Sunghoon says.

"I don't k-know."

"What if I try to make you have feelings for me. Test your feelings for me."

"And how do you want to do that?" He leans down closer to your height.

"Kiss." You were a distance away from him.

"Sunghoon. This will be my first kiss."

"Then I'll make it special." He places his lips right on yours. You've never felt this before but something is telling you that you want this. Maybe it was time you gave up your heart for someone else. Someone like Sunghoon. The snow storm happens just as you reach home, the heavy winds blows directly at the both of you. Sunghoon holds your hands to keep it warm.

"Oh my god, we thought you'd get lost or trapped in the snow!" Heeseung worriedly says.

"Uhh so, how are you feeling?" Jake asks.

"Better." They didn't notice the intertwined fingers between you and Sunghoon.

"I'll go make you hot cocoa." Sunghoon says. He leaves a peck on your forehead and leaves to the kitchen. The boys were shocked.

"What was that?" Jay asks.

"What was what?" You say.

"Sunghoon hyung kissing your forehead!" Sunoo says.

"Oh...umm...well...things happened." You stutter. Heeseung's jaw drops.

"You and Sunghoon are dating, right?"

"No. Not yet, you know I still have feelings for you know who I'm just testing the waters with Sunghoon. He promised to make me forget about my feelings with him. For now, it's a situationship I guess."

"Seems pretty easy. I mean...it's Sunghoon, that boy can make you forget things." Jake says.

"And why do you know about this?"

"Huh?" Jake says. You shook your head.

The boy who was in the living room with his supposed dream girl sighs. He didn't feel right about dating her but I guess he had to put up with this since you were already dating someone else. He could only congratulate you for being in a relationship.

He knew he couldn't take care of you as great as his hyung, so he had to let you go.

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo @http-gyu @simpforniki @vatterie @victoriazynui @myu3ki @jhopesucker @dimplewonie @chwlogy @ilovewonyo @xiaoderrrr @uwuheeseungie @miercerise @liikno @hxney-luga @tiktaktiki @ajayke-reads @yizhoutv @s00buwu @ilovehanni1 @starrpt2 @mystarryseas @moonliaworld @in-somnias-world @luvyev @engeneeee-168 @babyy-bambii @kimipxl @namau @gxwesn @kristynaaah @jiiyen @nshmrarki @addictedtohobi @starvyeol1512 @alexisdalmatian

[mcrdvcks]

congratulations on 2k!!! 💐💕

logan always seem like a giver, i wonder how he'd react having a significant other who adamantly takes care of him? maybe not in the same way he takes care of others, but in small, soft ways?

logan is the type of person who says he's "not a hero" yet his actions consistently proves his words are lies. same with him saying that he's "not a good person." like?? you protected rogue and were willing to sacrifice your life for a teenage girl you just met?

anyways, this is a bit short, but i hope you enjoy it!

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: established relationship, soft!logan, fluff

Logan’s not used to being taken care of. He’s the one who patches people up, does the heavy lifting, and quietly steps between others and danger. It’s instinct. Automatic.

So when you start doing it—bringing him water after a mission, setting out fresh clothes without a word, making sure the heater’s on when his joints are stiff—he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

He notices immediately, though. You fold his laundry the way he likes. You learn how he takes his coffee without asking. You remember he sleeps better when there's rain sounds playing. It makes him blink, still and quiet, like he's not sure how he earned it.

He tries to wave it off at first. “Don’t fuss,” he grumbles, even as he lets you rub tiger balm on his shoulder. But the way his eyes flutter shut? The soft noise he makes when your fingers find a sore spot? He loves it.

The first time you run your fingers through his hair to help him sleep, he jerks like he’s been shocked. Then he goes completely quiet. Eyes closed. Breathing even. Gone.

You always have something warm waiting when he comes back from patrol. You leave his boots near the heater when it’s snowing. You slip a protein bar into his jacket pocket when you think he’s skipped lunch.

He’s rough around the edges, but the first time you kiss the scars on his knuckles instead of commenting on them, he stares at you like you’ve just spoken another language. Doesn’t say a word. Just pulls you in and breathes you in like a prayer.

He’s weirdly flustered by quiet affection. You press a kiss to his temple. He grunts. Looks away. But later, you find him still touching the spot absentmindedly like it’s some kind of talisman.

He starts catching himself checking for you in every room. Not to protect you—though that’s always there—but just… looking. For your presence. For your little rituals. The cup of tea cooling by the window. The folded towel left for him by the shower. The way your hand finds his wrist and squeezes once when you pass him in the hall.

He keeps trying to repay every act of care tenfold. You bring him soup when he’s sore? He chops wood for two hours. You tidy his flannel drawer? He fixes the leaky sink in your bathroom before you notice it’s dripping. (You have to sit him down and explain that it’s not a competition. That taking care of him isn’t a job. It’s love.)

He has to learn how to receive. He’s not used to the idea that someone would choose to take care of him, without expecting him to carry it all. So he fights it at first. Shifts his weight, changes the subject, mutters “m’fine.” But you keep showing up. Keep being steady. And eventually, he starts to believe it.

When you run errands, you always come back with something small for him. A new bar of the soap he likes. A snack he thought no one remembered he liked. “Thought you said you weren’t one for soft stuff,” he teases. “I’m not. I’m just nosy,” you reply. But you both know it’s love.

You started rubbing lotion into his knuckles one night without saying a word. He sat there completely frozen like a bear being tamed by the gentlest trap. Didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands and thought about kissing them. He did, later.

[ningternzzz]

drabble— giving beomgyu a handjob through his boxers :3

warning(?)s: afab reader, y/n is a little bit evil hehe, tongue stuff, competitive gamer!beomgyu, “good boy”, imstillnewatwritingplsbenice

word count: 874

note!!!: it’s me and notes app against the word atp thank u everynyan for sm luv on my puppy!gyu fic :3 i genuinely didn’t expect anyone to like it djfhdhdhfh

Beomgyu who had agreed to a lazy and calm night in with you.

Beomgyu whose mind totally wasn’t in the gutter when you’re both just playing mario kart in comfy clothes.

Beomgyu who’s hard-on was getting harder and harder to cover up with each round. Every time you pushed his shoulder and hit his leg as an attempt to throw him off made him swoon, and he had nearly forgotten that there was just his boxers on. You had noticed too, his general stiffness and length made it impossible not to. His eyes were only on the screen half the time (despite him getting first every single time miraculously), with the other half his eyes were attached to your chest. it was like some invisible force made him keep looking, fascinated by how gravity works with each lean and movement you did.

You let him and his hard on suffer until you genuinely were fed up of him getting first every single time. No matter the difficulty of the track or the karts and bikes you chose, he would ultimately emerge victorious (by a landslide too, which was even more bothersome).

It was the last track on the cup, and rainbow road was the randomized track chosen. He had already started getting cocky about how “you’re doomed” and how he could do this with his eyes closed.

He didn’t know about your fool-proof plan to break his winning streak.

The race began, and you’d thought you’d let him have his glory, at least for a little bit. He was throwing remarks left and right as he unsurprisingly flew through the track with ease.

If it wasn’t for his boner very obviously showing and the shameless wet spot growing with each passing track, you’d never had guessed he was in any way shape or form horny in the least bit. Snickering to himself, you waited until his eyes had to be on the screen to swiftly position yourself on your knees below him. Immediately flustered, his snarky remarks turn into stammers, and the best part was that you hadn’t even done anything.

You snaked your hands up both his thighs and circle the wet spot on his boxers against his head with one of your thumbs.

For some inexplicable reason, he tried his very hardest to act nonchalant, the controller in his hands becoming warm with the clamminess of his hands. He can’t make out anything past a few What…..’s and Haaaaahh……..’s before quickly discarding the controller and instinctively running his fingers through your hair and squeezing when you use your tongue on his soaked through boxers in place of your thumb.

He curses in between his teeth as you use your hands to wrap the fabric of his boxers around the shape of his length to form a viable sleeve of sorts to stroke him through, as you get to work licking the sticky tip through the fabric. He can’t stop himself begging and pleading to just take them off, but you can’t let him win that easily again. You tell him that maybe if he’s a good boy, just maybe, he’ll even get to fuck you, and you swore he was going to cum there and then with the way his eyes rolled back and the lewd noises that escaped his open mouth.

He watches in pain as you swirl your tongue on top of the fabric, wishing so ardently that the fabric wasn’t in the way. Your hands settle at the base as you slowly start moving them up and down, squeezing at just the right part, just as he likes it. It gets harder and harder for him to keep his eyes on you, as he resets to squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back. You feel his legs tremble around your sides as you pick up the pace with your hands. He really starts to loose it when you suck his wetness through his boxers. In between your hands and your mouth he can’t stop saying your name in between moans and curses. Whether it was to protest or to encourage, it was unclear, and not really relevant.

You release your hands for a second and he sighs in pain, missing the warmth of you wrapped around his length. You use your thumb to toy with his waistband, earning the most pathetic whimpers from Beomgyu. You tease him to almost pull them down so his throbbing cock found spring free, only to pop them back up and continue playing with him.

Until he’d had enough.

His whole body shakes as he falls forwards and you feel his boxers become absolutely ruined with his own cum. He reaches out and grips your shoulder when you start overstimulating him, mixing his precum and cum along his tip as he shudders and folds practically in half.

You foolishly think for a second that he’s spent, the mario kart ending music playing on repeat in the background. You look over your shoulder briefly. You both are last place. Before you could poke fun at him for not winning this time, he looks at you with a look similar to a small begging, puppy.

“Have I been a good boy?”

[butterli5]

Regulus had been suspicious from the start.

Remus was usually the reasonable one between them when it came to packing, the one who calmly reorganized Regulus' last-minute chaos and always surrendered a corner of his carry-on for whatever excessive luxury his boyfriend insisted he needed for the trip, his silk scarf, extra shoes, a hair mask he swore he couldn’t live without. But this time?

“No,” Remus had said firmly, zipping up his sleek black carry-on with finality, standing guard like a dragon before its hoard. “Mine’s full.”

Regulus had blinked. “You always have space.”

“Not this time. Sweaters. Coats. You’ll thank me.”

It was the way he said it, with a nervous sort of edge, as if he’d rehearsed the excuse. And Regulus, ever the bloodhound for secrets, narrowed his eyes.

But the mystery didn’t last much longer. Not after the airport. Not after the gate sign that read OSL - Oslo.

And certainly not after they landed in Tromsø and Regulus looked out at the snow-glazed city stretching beneath them, the air so sharp it nearly sliced into his lungs, and realized where they were.

“You absolute bastard,” Regulus whispered, stunned, blinking into the white. “You brought me to Norway.”

Remus only grinned, a dimple forming under his flushed cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

They slept in the next morning, tangled under thick covers with the early winter light trying its best to coax them awake through the blackout curtains. Regulus stirred first, his breath fogging the cold air from the cracked window Remus insisted on keeping ajar for “freshness.” They ate lunch wrapped in matching wool scarves, wandering into a tucked-away café where the tea came in mismatched cups and the salmon was the kind that melted on the tongue.

Then, just as the sky began to tip from soft grey to the inky blue of oncoming night, Remus turned to him with a strange glint in his eye.

“I booked us something tonight.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “You’re being very cryptic lately.”

They get there and it’s the prettiest thing he has ever seen, a glass globe glowing softly against the snowy dark, inside a constellation of flickering candlelight. Fuzzy cushions and thick blankets were spread out with care, the interior warm and scented faintly of lavender and cinnamon. Regulus lets out a small breath, already half in awe, half in disbelief that this is real.

They sit, knees brushing, and Remus pulls a thermos of warm tea from the mystery backpack, pouring it into the waiting glasses. Regulus takes his gratefully, warming his fingers around it.

And then, when he turns to say something—thank you, I love you, I can’t believe you—he notices them. So many boxes, all different shapes and sizes, arranged in the space between them. Each is carefully wrapped and numbered from 1 to 25.

Remus gives him a sheepish, almost shy smile.

“Twenty-five gifts for your twenty-five years, my love.”

His breath catches.

He opens the first box with trembling fingers. Inside lies a tiny silver rattle pendant on a chain. His eyes dart up to Remus.

“Your birth year,” Remus says gently. “Engraved inside with the date and hour. Just… the start of everything.”

Box four makes him pause. He runs his thumb over the smooth plastic of the cassette and the clunky buttons of the old player before picking up the labeled mixtape.

“You made this?”

“I found all the songs Sirius said your mum played when you were little,” Remus replies, a little grin playing on his lips. “Some French lullabies too. You said she used to sing you to sleep with them.”

Box five is a breathless moment. Regulus unwraps it slowly, reverently, and reveals an original edition of Le Petit Prince, worn but clearly cared for.

His lips part. “This is... this is the exact edition I had.”

“I know,” Remus says softly. “It took forever to find one in that condition. I added a few notes. Just thoughts. I always imagined you underlining bits when you were little.”

He opens box eight and finds a delicate little book filled with pressed wildflowers, each page labeled in Remus’ writing.

“Those are the ones that grew the year you turned eight,” he says. “Sirius told me you used to pick them and hide them in old dictionaries. Said you liked flowers more than football.”

Regulus chokes out a laugh, already blinking back tears.

Box twelve is unexpected, a badge made of ribbon, stitched by hand, reading Spelling Bee Champion.

“You didn’t…”

“I did,” Remus teases, eyes warm. “Because even if the win wasn’t real, the effort was. You told me once you got so close, and then tripped on ‘chevaux’. You’ve never forgotten it.”

Box twenty makes his hands still completely. It’s heavier, and when he opens it, it’s a notebook, one of Remus’, clearly. He recognizes the handwriting instantly. Inside are letters, all dated, all unsent.

“They’re from the year we met,” Remus murmurs, watching him closely. “I wrote them when I was falling in love with you, and too scared to tell you.”

Regulus can’t speak. He just presses his hand over his heart and tries to breathe past the overwhelming feeling cracking open inside him.

Then box twenty-two: a velvet pouch. Inside it, a single smooth gray stone, cool against his palm.

“I picked it up that day we went to the sea, remember?” Remus says. “You skipped it across the waves like it meant nothing. I kept this one.”

Regulus presses his lips together and lets out a shaky breath, the tears now spilling freely down his cheeks. He looks at the final box. Number 25. The last.

He opens it to reveal a wooden box, simple and carefully made, and when he lifts the lid, a ring glints against soft velvet.

Remus reaches for his hand.

“I had my dad help me make it. Because I wanted something that would last, just like this.”

He swallows, his voice rough but steady.

“I want your 25th and your 98th. Will you marry me?”

Regulus cries as he nods, the only answer his heart has ever known.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, yes, you ridiculous, perfect man.”

Above them, the sky flared into greens and violets. Inside, they held each other like a promise made solid, two bodies warm against the glass, wrapped in candlelight and the oldest kind of magic.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 15 - Wait For It

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Bucky about to take the gold in his favorite sport (glaring).

Chapter title from Amsterdam by Imagine Dragons

Word Count: 7.8k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Bucky worries, and you have a meeting. Usual warnings.

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff

Chapter 14 - Chapter 16

Read on A03!

There were a lot of things about this situation that Bucky hated.

To start, traffic had been shit. He hadn’t gotten the chance to eat, because he usually ate with Her. The day was too damn sunny, but Bucky would sound like an asshole if he said that out loud. Finally, his phone was almost dead, and Sam’s waiting room didn’t have one fucking outlet.

If She called him, he needed to be able to respond. He shouldn’t even be taking a day off anyway. Bucky could think of a hundred damn reasons he should be with Her, not halfway across the city. But every time he’d thrown one at Her, she’d shot it down with sharp accuracy and a flat tone. 

“You could have another Hydra run in-“

“I’m not going to leave my apartment.” She’d shrugged, not looking away from Her computer. “And Happy upgraded my security. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky had scoffed, leaning further over the desk. “Thing is, you’re sayin’ you’re not going to leave your apartment, but the last time you did that, you left your apartment-“

“I won’t this time.”

“I don’t believe you-“

“James.” She’d finally turned to face him, and there had been a heavy exhaustion on Her face that hadn’t made Bucky more eager to leave Her.

It had really been sinking into Her features, lately. A sort of gauntness that made Bucky’s jaw clench and his gut turn. The Moon was shrouded in Her eyes, Her hair had flyaway strands, and several of Her nails had chipped.

It was all that, combined with a million small things that told Bucky She wasn’t okay. Whenever She’d smile at a suit it was all overdone sweetness, but without the usual, slight hint of teeth. She seemed to be floating through the day rather than carving at it. Bucky had passed Her a coffee in the car that morning, and She’d just held it. 

Completely still in the passenger’s seat. Answering Bucky with Her usual jokes, but all of them too soft. When they’d parked, and Bucky had let the song playing run all the way to the end, She’d just stared ahead with a blank expression. 

Whatever this was looked like more than the sickness. That always made Her colorless, but not dead. And some part of Her always seemed a little more tired than Bucky liked—if it were up to him, She’d rest every single night, maybe next to him, with his arm around Her shoulders and Her voice smooth in his ear—but all Her movements seemed to be animated. When She walked it wasn’t the purposeful, well-designed strut She seemed to have mastered, but a mechanical movement that only Bucky seemed to see the difference in. Less hips, and the same rhythm a beat behind, with no ease. 

Her voice was missing something, too. As She’d looked at Bucky with tight features and all that exhaustion, he’d really fucking heard it. There was nothing musical in the tone. It was just goddamn flat.

“I’m not going to leave my apartment.” She’d said, holding his gaze. “And if you don’t meet with Sam, we won’t know if he’s onto us.”

Bucky had sighed. “He’s not onto us, Butterfly-“

“We don’t know that.”

“Maybe, but I know Sam-“

“I know him too.” She’d raised Her brows in a silent challenge. “And we need to be sure he doesn’t know. We’re fucked if he does.”

“Yeah, I know that, but he might be okay with it-“

“No, he won’t be.”

“Fine, he’ll be pissed at me, but not you-“

“He’ll take you off my detail.” She’d snapped, and Bucky had stilled. “If Sam finds out you’ve been encouraging me to deal with this, he’ll move you to work on the case because you’ve got the info, and separate us.” She’d taken a long, slow breath, and the venom in Her voice had made Bucky sit a little too tall in his chair. 

He’d muttered Her name, and She’d shaken her head.

“Please just go to the meeting, Buck. I-“ She’d run a hand through Her hair, Her voice fading into something far too soft. “I’d like to keep you with me.”

She’d sounded like She cared. And She’d wanted to keep him. 

Bucky. 

Of all damn people, Bucky got to be the one She wanted to keep with Her. 

And the heat in his body—dimmed to a flicker, as his gut had been aching as he tried to figure out what the fuck was wrong with Her—had flared back up with a roar. 

He wouldn’t just bend to Her orders. If anything, the annoying feelings had made him more determined to match Her pace for pace, shove for shove, bite for bite. 

But She’d had a damn good point. Bucky couldn’t protect Her, or help Her, or make sure She didn’t eat herself from within if Sam moved him away from Her. He didn’t really want to be anywhere but Her anyway. 

So Bucky had folded.

Mostly.

“You have to promise you’ll rest.” He’d muttered, and She’d sighed.

“Fine.”

Bucky had blinked, the furrow of his brow deep enough for him to feel. He’d expected Her to argue. To negotiate. 

But She hadn’t.

And goddamnit, that was sitting and rotting in his stomach, giving him yet another reason to hate being here. Something was wrong with Her. It had been wrong with Her, since She’d gotten back from that party Miles had dragged her to. She’d apologized to him for letting Miles be rude—which was stupid, that hadn’t been Her fault by a long shot—and then started to shrink back into Herself.

There were moments where She’d seem okay. If Bucky made Her move. If he ordered food and let Her paint on his arm, or sat next to Her and asked her for help with a course on Stark’s stupid program. When he made Her think, or let Her make something that he studied after, to see exactly what She liked enough to create.

But if he let Her sit in Herself for too long, that was when She started to fall apart. So Bucky should be with Her. Making sure She didn’t hurt herself, or something—someone—else got Her. 

Because he had eyes. 

He’d seen the way She’d grown small and nervous the moment Miles had stepped into the apartment. The way She’d obeyed his every word, even when it was something Bucky was certain she wouldn’t actually agree with. Miles had spoken to Her like she was a dog, asked Her to dress up like She was a toy, and it had made Bucky’s fists curl and his attention sharp.

Because he recognized the stance She’d adopted. Eyes down, speaking only when spoken to, with as few words as She could manage.

The Soldat had been scratching at the back of his skull, at the sight of it. 

That was how he had stood. For decades. The slow, careful movements of someone who knew that a foot out of line would result in losing a toe. The words of a person who had said the wrong ones in the past, and paid heavily for it.

And Bucky had a theory. A theory he didn’t know how to ask Her about, or how to test. One he was desperately hoping was wrong—he never saw bruises, but She was also good at hiding things, and Miles didn’t seem like enough of a dumbass to do something obvious—but couldn’t afford to count out. Not with Her.

It was, really, the only reason Bucky was here. He didn’t give a shit about lunch with Sam. He probably could have pushed a little harder, and stayed where he wanted to be. With Her, in Her apartment now that Miles was back out of town, making Her try the new spice he’d found at a market down-town and watching the Princess Bride movie.

Looking at Her, trying to work out if there was anything about Her that wasn’t made like art, and coming up empty-handed. When he’d been there yesterday, She’d given him more coins for laundry and a handful of rocks.

He hadn’t been able to fight his smile. “The hell am I supposed to do with these.”

“They’re for science, James.” She’d sighed. “Geology.”

“I don’t know a single thing about geology.”

“Then you can learn-“

“Or you,” he’d passed than back into Her hands. “Could paint them.”

She’d stared at him for a second, Her voice dropping to something soft. “Do you want me to paint them?”

Bucky had shrugged—although nothing sounded better in the world than Her, painting rocks just for him—and She’d nodded slowly. 

“You have to do one too.”

“Alright. Deal.” He’d held out his hand, She’d shaken it with a worryingly determined expression, and Bucky wanted to be at Her apartment, painting rocks like a goddamn idiot.

Steve had liked to paint rocks. And Bucky had done it with him, when they were kids. And he’d gotten pretty damn good at it, enough to maybe impress Her, and Bucky shouldn’t care about impressing Her, but he did.

He wanted to keep being the person She kept around. Wanted to watch Her eyes get wide, and then have Her ask him a million questions, and maybe hand Her to rock and have Her keep that too. 

He’d been feeling disturbingly like a goddamn kid lately, whenever he was around Her. Falling for the doe-eyed girl sitting across from him, eating Her lunch and talking too fast, wearing a pretty dress and letting Bucky stand between Her and the bullies. 

She’d been less doe-eyed lately. It was just another part of whatever the hell was happening with Her.

So Bucky was here. He didn’t want to be. But it was that damn theory that was making the Soldat scratch up and down his skull. And Sam—who was fucking late, the asshead—might have an answer.

The clock was taunting him again. Ticking and ticking, like a bomb set to go off that Bucky didn’t have the time to clean up. Hydra could be making steps as he just sat there. She could be running around, and fall over a trap—or just Her own feet—and Bucky wouldn’t be able to catch Her. Miles could get back again, while Bucky wasn’t there-

She’d be fine.

He could check the cameras. But She said she was at her apartment. And checking them for worried reasons but not real reasons felt like an invasion. 

She’d call if She needed him.

She would.

She’d been letting Bucky help, so She would call-

Tick. Tick. The gas in Her office had a similar sound. 

Tick. The tap of Her fingers on the keyboard did too. 

Tick. So did the sound of polished shoes on a floor, crossing over to Her and wrapping around her like She was something to be suffocated, rather than the most air Bucky had ever breathed maybe in his whole life-

There was a whine from the wood of Bucky’s chair, and he’d almost snapped the arm clean off. Shit.

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. It was going to rain later, because the air had that sticky quality that came with a storm. Sam’s office still had that ugly, gray carpet. 

He liked that Sam at least texted to say he was running late, and would be up in a few minutes. He didn’t like that he wasn’t with Her, but he’d been thinking about that all morning, so he also didn’t like how he couldn’t think of a real reason to text Her.

He needed to yell at Sam later, about replacing that goddamn clock.

He wanted to just ask the question right away, when Sam got off the elevator with a wide grin and open arms. Bucky wanted to cut into it, and make sure he wasn’t right.

God, he really didn’t want to be right.

But he had to do the whole dance. Drop across from Sam in the office with a grimacing smile, settle in best he could, and ask about Sarah like a normal person-

“Man, you don’t care about that.” Sam gave him an amused look, leaning forward. “Sarah’s back home, last time you saw her was the last time I did too. But you know who I do know you care about?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Sam-“

“I heard about how you’ve been bullyin’ Happy Hogan-“

“It’s not bullying.”

“Fine, harassing-“

“I’m doing my damn job, Sam.” Bucky snapped, and Sam snorted.

“You got blocked.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Means you were goin’ way overboard. And if you say for a job, I swear to god, Buck, I’m gonna punch you in the face-“

Bucky scowled. “She’s my friend. You wanted us to be friends, and now we are, so shut up. Didn’t you want to talk to me about something-“

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “Progress report on Hydra, nothing. We’ve got jack shit. And I saw you guys at lunch, you weren’t talking like friends. You were actin’ like you’ve been married ten years-“

“We haven’t.”

“Yeah, but you wanna be, don’t you-“

“Sam.”

“C’mon, Bucky.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Do we gotta do this again? I’m joking about the marriage, but she stayed at your apartment. If you think there’s nothing there-“

“She has a boyfriend.” Bucky muttered, and the word felt sour in his mouth. 

He might have made a face too, because Sam raised his brows. “She does. You got any feelings about that?”

“He’s a dick.” 

Sam snorted. “Yeah, he is. I mean- Jesus, man. You have no idea.”

Bucky sat up taller at that. He didn’t have an idea. 

He really needed to, though.

“How did…” Buck paused, frowning at the air as he searched for the normal, casual, tactical way to bring this up. “That even happen.”

“I wish I knew.” Sam sighed. “She’s never really told me either. When we got blipped I’d been on the run a few years, but I’d still been sending her postcards, and she’d write back about how her siblings were doing. I’d ask if she was going to settle down herself and she’d dodge the question. Then I get back and she’s working for the Stark Foundation and dating the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”

Bucky grunted. “She ever mention how they met?”

“Nope.”

Fuck. “How about-“

“You never answered my question, Bucky.” Sam cut him off with short words, and Bucky swallowed. “You got feelings about her having a boyfriend?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No. We’re not talking about this.”

“About what, Bucky?” Sam’s grin was shit-eating. This had been a horrible idea. “How that old heart of yours is finally pumping-“

“Sam-“

“I wouldn’t be against it.” Sam said quickly. “Miles is a dickbag.”

Bucky was going to break his teeth. “I know that-“

“I mean, I don’t ever really see him, and she doesn’t talk about him, but- Shit, Buck, he doesn’t even like her cat.”

Bucky frowned. “He doesn’t?”

“Nope. And I’ve never seen her like someone that didn’t like her cat. That thing has been with her as long as I’ve known her.”

Bucky paused. If Sam knew something about his theory, he would’ve said it here. Hell, now that Bucky was thinking about it, there was no way Sam would’ve known and let it continue. Sam did only see Her whenever he was in the city, and She was good at wearing all those masks and dancing through the world like it was all beneath Her, even when Bucky could see it crushing on Her shoulders. 

And the Boy. 

His name. Combined with the fact that—if Bucky’s math was right—he shouldn’t be half as young as he seemed.

There wasn’t a better time to ask.

“You know the Boy’s real name? Behemoth?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t that the name of one of the Hydra projects?” Bucky said pointedly, and Sam sighed.

“Bucky, don’t tell me you think she’s fucking Hydra again-“

“No. That was- I don’t.“ Bucky let out a slow breath. “Just odd. Not a common name.”

“She’s not a common person. And I asked her about it, long time ago, and she said he just is the Behemoth.”

Bucky frowned. “The?”

“She was nine, man, I don’t think it’s that serious.”

“But-“

“Bucky. From what we’ve found, the Behemoth project got cancelled. Merged. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll go to her apartment right now and make sure they didn’t put doomsday in a cat-“

Bucky scowled. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Sam grinned, pushing up from his chair. “Let’s go, old man. You owe me a lunch.”

Bucky didn’t owe Sam anything. But he did want to talk to Sam about normal things for maybe twenty minutes—steering the conversation away from Her, all while only ever thinking of Her—and the sooner he finished up here, the sooner he could get back.

To Her.

If Sam pushed him about it—like the asshole tended to do—Bucky would make it real damn clear that he didn’t think She was guilty of anything. He looked at Her too much for that to be true. 

Bucky could recognize a guilty person. A truly guilty person, who didn’t think they were doing a single thing wrong. They had a sort of indifference that Bucky was pretty sure She couldn’t fake if she tried.

Even with that dead-man-walking, tired, heavy air She seemed to carry with Her all the time lately, there was this something in Her. Emotion. Care. 

The Moon, hidden but turning. She was still working Herself into the dust, and going on all Her business trips, no matter how many times Bucky and Sam tried to talk her out of public appearances. 

“Have you tried to-“

“Yes.” Bucky grunted over lunch, glaring down at his sandwich. “She said no.”

Sam sighed. “She always says no, Buck. You gotta push it-“

“I do push it, when I think she’ll listen. But she won’t.”

“You ain’t gonna know that ‘till you push it-“

“Do you want to push it?” Bucky raised his brows, and Sam grimaced.

“Hell, no.”

“So-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get your point. You know better than good ol’ Sam, who’s basically her brother, and it’s not like we’ve known each other longer or something-“

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is she at least working less?” Sam said, his voice a little softer than before. “I mean, I know she ain’t gonna stop, but Hydra tried to kidnap her and then camped outside her apartment, that’s gotta at least earn her a weekend.”

“She was working less.” Bucky muttered. “Then Miles stopped back in last week, and now it’s all she does.”

Sam made a sour expression, his eyes narrowing at his burger. “He still in town?”

“No.” 

“Good. Fucking dipshit.”

Bucky nodded, but that might be a generous title for Miles. 

He was a hell of a lot more than a dipshit. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to check the cameras or just ask Her to make sure he was wrong. That he wouldn’t have to introduce the man to a crash course of how much a vibranium punch could hurt. How it could—if tested—cleave right through someone’s chest.

And even if he was wrong, Bucky might just do that anyway. 

He’d never seen Her move this little. He’d checked on Her, before he left for Sam’s office, and She’d bene curled up on the couch with Her laptop, loud music blaring from the TV. The only difference when he got back was that the Boy had settled himself near Her feet, and was glaring at Her as she typed away. 

She didn’t even look up when he walked inside and kicked off his shoes.

Bucky grunted Her name, moving to lean over the couch. “You eaten today?”

She hummed, still not looking at him. “Had the sandwich you brought me.”

“It still in you?”

“That’s disgusting, James. I’m not that type of girl.”

He gave Her a flat look, biting the inside of his cheek. This was serious. There was less color in Her face than when he’d left. “You know that’s not what I meant, Butterfly.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, you do.” Bucky reached over Her to grab her laptop, and she let out the highest, most adorably frantic sound Bucky had ever heard, pulling Her laptop right into her chest.

“Bucky, I’m busy-“

“You’ve been busy all fuckin’ morning-“

“Because I have things to do-���

Bucky grunted Her name, not releasing his grip on the computer. “You promised me a movie.”

She blinked up at him with the doe-eyes, and the heat was settling a little deeper than just his skin. Bucky couldn’t grab Her chin and tip it further. Couldn’t keep Her gaze trapped on his and lean down to kiss her, right until she let out another pretty sound and all that life rushed back into Her features. Until She looked more like a bright, loud bird of paradise again, and less like something aimless and half-dead, floating through the air as if She was a ghost.

If Bucky got to have Her, he’d never let Her look like a ghost. He’d keep Her right at his side, and listen to her all the time, and right now he’d distract Her with teasing kisses all over her face until she was letting out that all-consuming and drug-like giggle, and her grip slackened on Her laptop. Then maybe he’d climb over Her and kiss her into the couch, and She’d relax below him because She’d trust Bucky to take care of Her.

Control was slipping too far out of his reach, because She did trust Bucky to take care of Her. More than anyone else, at least. 

And despite what Sam claimed, he would push it.

He gave a slight tug of the laptop again and raised his brows, and She pouted but released it. 

That shouldn’t make him feel like he was glowing. 

It did.

“You suck.” She mumbled, crossing Her arms over her chest, and Bucky laughed. 

“I’ve heard that before. Last time it was cause I wouldn’t let you drive-“

“I’m a good driver-“

“Sure, Butterfly.”

She stuck Her tongue out at him. Bucky wanted to pull it between his teeth. “So smooth, James-“

“Only for you.”

Bucky didn’t flinch when she slapped his shoulder, and this was the only reason he hadn’t grabbed Her face between his hands and demanded to know what was wrong. In these moments—when it was just them, and She didn’t look lost enough that Bucky was worried he’d touch Her and she’d fall apart—She was herself. Still a little soft and quieter than Bucky would like, but Herself. 

And the movie was fine, but Bucky would probably need to rewatch it later, when She wasn’t there. When She was next to him, paying attention to anything else was impossible. It was exactly what he’d wanted—Her settled deep into the couch, their knees brushing and a million bolts of lightning rushing through his blood whenever She smiled—but if She asked him a single question about what was happening, he wouldn’t be able to answer.

That had been true of most things, lately. When the movie finished and they ate dinner, Bucky had to force himself not to stare at Her lips, in a slightly pucker as she ate a noodle. Her knee was bouncing under the table—that was a good sign—and She’d gotten sauce on Her face he wanted to wipe off with his thumb, but that wasn’t a friend thing.

He was pretty sure.

He wouldn’t wipe sauce off Sam’s face, and he wouldn’t have wiped it off Steve’s face, but Sam would punch him and Steve had never gotten sauce on his face, so-

“Bucky?” She was waving a hand in front of his face, and he blinked at Her. “Sargent Bucky Barnes-“

He caught Her hand—it fit pretty damn well in his—and dragged it down to the table. “What?”

“You were ignoring me-“

“I was thinking.”

She hummed. He was still holding Her hand. “About what?”

Her. Kissing Her. Launching himself over the table and trying to find out how loud he could make Her whine his name, and if She’d give him doe-eyes when he was buried inside of Her and worshipping Her like the strange, alien deity she was-

“James.”

Fuck. Control. “Nothin’.”

She frowned. “Liar. What were you thinking about?“

“Noth-“

“Don’t say nothing.” She snapped. “Or I’ll punch you.”

Bucky snorted. “Alright.”

There was a short silence, and She was glowering at him like she really did want to land that punch. Bucky really needed to teach Her how to do that. If not for his own, rotten, selfish, not-very-friend-like reasons—he’d get to touch Her, and stare at Her, and maybe She’d lean into him or leave a bruise on his skin—so for his fucking sanity. If She was going to keep running that smart, pretty mouth of Her’s—which She was, because She was infuriating and magnetic and loud—Bucky needed to know She could back herself up. 

He shifted that somewhere around in his log, as She kept glaring at him. He needed to make sure She could fight.

Maybe not now, though. Given the death-glare he was getting, later seemed like the best course of action. 

“Are you not going to say anything?”

Bucky shrugged, giving her a small grin. “You said you’d punch me, sweetheart, I’m defending myself.”

“We both know you’d be fine-“

“Do we?”

She scowled, and noodle whacked Bucky right in the face. “I hate you.”

“Yep.” He ate the noodle, and just kept grinning at Her. Jesus, She was pretty. “You wanna hear what Sam said?”

Her nose wrinkled, but She nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Such good manners-“

“Shut up.”

Bucky laughed again, and She wasn’t actually mad at him. Bucky could recognize Her real fury from anywhere. Sometimes he could swear he felt it spike over his bones. Right now She was only an angry cat, biting at his ankles to try and make him play.

He’d like to play with Her. However She let him. On the table, or against the wall, or even in a bed he hadn’t slept in for over eighty years-

Focus.

Friends. They were friends. And She a boyfriend Bucky needed to be watching more carefully, because the mission was keep Her safe, not fuck Her.

He cleared his throat. “He doesn’t know anything. Even said they didn’t have any new leads. It’s just us, Butterfly.”

She hummed, still watching him so carefully. “Just us?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” She twirled Her fork, the spaghetti moving into that strange pattern she always made. “Good.”

Bucky grunted an agreement, and the heat seems to be living everywhere. He felt a little like a volcano, and one wrong brush of Her bare skin, one word that wasn’t mocking, but sincere, would set him off.

Just us.

He was torturing himself.

Every goddamn second, Bucky was torturing himself. When he got home and he kept wanting to call Her, just to talk. When he’d walk past his empty bedroom, and fail to not glance in to check on Her, when she wasn’t even there. When he read another book She gave him, and tried to figure out why She liked it. 

He really wanted to know what made Her like something. If Bucky could be something She liked enough to be loud and immovable about. 

If She’d ever want to come back to his apartment, now that he had a carpet and blanket and singular painting of a city skyline on his wall. 

She’d like the painting. He’d bought it because She’d like it. 

It was getting a little pathetic, how Bucky was staring to shift everything around in hopes She’d want to rest at his side. 

But it made him better. Everything looked better, and tasted better, and felt better. Just because of Her.

Even silence was better. Just as long as Bucky was sharing it with Her. 

“Do you like blue or purple more?”

Bucky glanced up from his computer—they’d been sitting in the office for damn near two hours without a word, and he’d been alternating between more classes and watching Her work like a creep—and She was looking at him like his answer would be the most important thing in the world. 

“For napkins,” She added, and he blinked at Her.

“What.”

“I’m making final calls about decoration shit,” She waved a hand to Her computer, frowning slightly at the air. “Apparently everyone can figure out catering and speakers by themselves, but napkins need my opinion.”

Bucky was pretty damn sure everything should need Her opinion, but he also knew that if he told Her that, She’d do something stupid like try to plan the whole thing herself. “Uh- Blue.”

She hummed, nodding slowly. “Good.”

“Good?”

“That was what I would’ve said too.” She shrugged, and Bucky raised his brows.

“Were you testing me, Butterfly?”

“I- No-“ She shook Her head, her words almost frantic. “I just don’t think I should be the only person to make the choice.“

“They’re napkins.” Bucky’s voice was flat, and She shook her head.

“They’re expensive napkins.”

“Then get cheaper napkins.”

“I can’t. If I get cheap napkins, all the donors will somehow smell it, and they’ll all be offended we didn’t respect them enough, and we won’t raise enough money to do the prosthetics and vaccine-“

Bucky muttered Her name, and it shouldn’t feel so good that She snapped her mouth shut. “Deep breathes.”

“I am breathing-“

“Not deeply.”

She glared at him, but took a long, slow breath, and Bucky kept talking.

“I know Wakanda. T’challa’s a good man, if you ask him to help you fund some stuff, he’ll do it-“

“But I don’t want a discount-“

“And,” Bucky kept his voice firm, holding Her gaze. “I was joking. I know you wouldn’t test me like that.”

She paused. “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle when you do test me.”

She sighed, pouting slightly and mumbling under Her breath. “I don’t mean to-“

“I know. ’S alright.” He liked being tested. It gave him something to do. More chances to show Her that he could keep Her safe. More opportunities to get closer to Her, until he’d earned Her trust. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” She whispered, Her eyes wide on his, and the Moon was glowing. 

Bucky really wished he could figure out what the hell that meant. 

But She slumped into Her seat with an easy, slow breath, and that was enough.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” She grumbled, shredding at one of the papers on her desk. “Thanks.”

He snorted. “Say it like you mean it, sweetheart-“

“Thank you, Sargent Barnes.” She leaned forward, smiling too sweet and speaking too soft. “I’m never going to be able to make it up to you, and I’d fall apart without you. You saved me-“

“Alright.” He pushed the words through his teeth, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Smart mouth, Butterfly.”

She hummed, the smile on Her face wide and toothy and real, and Bucky never wanted to see anything else on Her face again. 

Once this was sorted out—Hydra and, hopefully, Miles—maybe Bucky would get to see nothing else. Maybe he’d prove himself enough that She’d want to keep him as more than a bodyguard or friend. He couldn’t think of a better place to be.

But for now, they had to sort this out.

She’d given them a damn good reason to be calling with Wakanda. Her schedule was marked yellow for vaccine meeting, and Grace had strict orders not to let anyone bother them. The meeting was so late because of the time difference, and they’d be calling Shuri’s lab to cover all remaining tracks. 

They’d stop being careful once they could be. Once they had something that could only be dealt with via guns and muscle, when Bucky would have to pass himself over to Sam with the information. She’d agreed to that. Promised that, once they had some solid ideas, She’d sit back and let them handle it.

This would, hopefully, be a step towards that. Bucky standing awkwardly over Her as they waited for the meeting to start, Her fingers shredding at paper and her leg bouncing under Her desk. Zemo would have information for them, they’d be closer to being out of this mess—closer to Her being safe—and Bucky could focus on Her. 

“Bucky.” She was tipping Her head back in her seat, frowning up at him, and he nodded for Her to continue. “You ready?”

“Course I’m ready.” He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothin’ he can do to me across the ocean.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but-“

Bucky grunted Her name, his hand moving to grab Her by the chin. Keep their eyes connected, so She’d be able to see that he meant every word his was saying. 

It was a stupid move. Little rushes of lightning were shooting up his arm, he was sort of falling into Her beauty, and She wasn’t swatting him away. She should be. Things would be so much easier if She did. 

“Buck?” She whispered—he’d been staring at Her too long—and he coughed. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he muttered, scanning over Her features carefully. She, at least, looked okay. “I’m fine, Butterfly. And they’ll be keepin’ him in line on their end. We’re asking the questions, he’s giving the answers. That’s it.”

She swallowed, Her voice still too soft. “What do I do if he asks me a question?”

“Ignore it.”

“But-“

“Bucky Barnes.” 

Bucky’s gaze shot up to the screen, finding a very amused Shuri looking between Her in the chair, Bucky over Her, and his hand still on Her chin.

She still wasn’t pushing him away.

It felt like he’d been branded on his fingertips, when he let go.

Shuri said Her name with a smile, and She nodded quickly, sitting a little taller.

“Your majesty, it’s an honor-“

“It should not be.” Shuri shrugged, still giving Bucky a shit-eating grin he really didn’t need right now. “If this is an honor, your life sounds quite boring.”

She frowned. “I mean- It kind of is. My life.”

“Ah. Honest.” Shuri grinned at Bucky. “I like her.”

Bucky liked Her too. 

He just grunted, and lowered himself more into the screen. “Good. Shuri, I’m grateful for this, but we’re on a clock-“

“I know. You get an hour, starting when I move your call to his cell. Ayo is with him for immediate action, but we have more of the Dora Milaje on standby if they are needed-“

“They won’t be.” Bucky cut Shuri off with a shake of his head. Zemo was a manipulative shithead, but nothing he said could affect Her and Bucky, and the Dora Milaje weren’t exactly weak-minded women. “Seriously though, Shuri. Thank you.”

Shuri just shrugged. “Do not bother with thanks. You are my friend, and I am bored. I am hoping you’ll have a puzzle for me to solve.”

“We’ll call you if we do.” Bucky gave her a tight nod, and Shuri beamed.

“Lovely, White Wolf. Have fun.”

The screen went dark for a second, and She glance back up. 

“White Wolf?”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll tell you later. You want to do the talking, or-“

“James.” 

He needed to pay more attention to the screen. To drag his gaze away from Her and focus on the actual meeting. 

Maybe then he would have been ready for the chill that rushed his body at that voice. 

He fucking hated that Zemo could still do that to him. It lit some of that useless anger all over his bone and in his gut, made him fists clench and his stomach turn. He’d let go. He was supposed to have let go. Zemo couldn’t hurt him. 

Couldn’t hurt Her.

“Zemo.” He muttered, giving the man a grimacing smile through the camera, and Zemo grinned right back.

“You look healthy. Your hair, it is nice longer. Always was nice longer, though I understand wanting to dodge public attention-“

“Yeah, we’re not here to talk about my hair.” Bucky braced his hands on the back of Her chair. “We’ve got some questions for you. All you gotta do is answer.”

“By we,” Zemo drawled, his gaze falling onto Her, and Bucky’s grip tightened. “I presume you mean the woman between us who you have yet to introduce me to? That is not very polite, James-“

“Thinking I’m going to speak for her isn’t exactly chivalrous either.” Bucky grumbled, and Zemo’s brows raised.

“You are protective of her.”

In and out. Breathe in and out. He couldn’t do the exercise right now, but he had to breathe. 

Zemo wasn’t in his head. He couldn’t be. And Ayo was watching silently in the corner. Everything was fine.

“We’re asking the questions.” She said, before Bucky could respond. “You’re Baron Zemo?”

“I believe I am.” Zemo hummed, and Bucky couldn’t smash the camera to stop him from looking at Her. That would be expensive, and detrimental to the whole process. “Who are you? Forgive me for being curious, but James doesn’t exactly make friends.”

She said Her name, and Bucky didn’t like it. He’d told Her not to answer questions, but he should’ve known better than to think She’d listen. They would’ve had to tell Zemo Her name anyway—Hydra was after Her—but it still made him sick, the way Zemo repeated it back, looking at Her so carefully. Like he was estimating the cost of Her cage. 

“I recognize that name.” Zemo hummed, and Bucky was going to break the fucking chair. It couldn’t be that fucking easy. “I have seen you. On the TV. You had a very familiar face, when Stark presented you. His diamond, found during that horribly named blip.” Zemo tilted his head at Her. “How did you fall into this sort of a company?”

It wasn’t that easy. 

Fuck.

“Bucky’s helping me.” She muttered, Her words slow. She was being careful.

Good.

“He’s my friend.”

“Friend.” Zemo’s eyes glided back to Bucky. “You have been busy, James.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered, before raising his voice back up. “You really don’t recognize her. And don’t lie. It won’t help you.”

Zemo sighed. “I am past helping myself. I know I will be here for the rest of my life, and it is not the worst fate. Wakanda treats their prisoners quite well. I get cable TV. And I have watched you many times.” He nodded to Her. “You are very magnetic. A good speaker. A shame to waste it on a Stark organization.”

She tensed, but Bucky kept pushing. They’d talked about this. They had questions set up, as well as a plan—She’d made questions, and Bucky had decided which ones would be best to ask—and Bucky could do this. Ignore to fury, and how he wanted to wrap around Her and shield her from Zemo’s view. 

They just needed fucking something. 

“You really don’t recognize her from anywhere else.”

Zemo gave Bucky an amused look. “I do not know. Should I?”

“How about old Hydra files.”

“James, I have said this many times. I was never involved with Hydra. Everything I know was released by the Black Widow. It is public knowledge.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “We both know that’s not true.”

“It is not my fault others do not share my curiosity.” Zemo shrugged. “If you are looking for a decryption, I am afraid I do charge-“

“What about numbers?” She cut in with soft words. “Would you recognize those? From the files?”

“I may. Am I permitted to ask why-“

“No.” Bucky grunted, nodding for her to continue, and she started to count off on Her fingers as she listed.

“Twenty-seven, twelve- Um, sixteen, nineteen, eighty-four-“

Zemo cleared his throat. “Nineteen eight-four is the date of Howard Stark’s murder. James, I am surprised you would miss that.”

Fuck. It was.

And that just gave him more fucking questions. 

“How about Project Ouroboros.” He muttered. “You heard of it?”

“Project…” Zemo trailed off, frowning at the air. “Interesting. How did you come across that?”

“Just answer the fucking question.” 

Zemo sighed. “I know of project Ouroboros. A hyper-secretive Hydra project, starting in nineteen nintey-nine. Short-lived. Tragic.”

“How did you hear about it?” Bucky kept his voice even, but the Soldat was starting to scratch at the back of his skull. “Your name was on the files, Zemo, so-“

“My name?” Zemo frowned. “My name should not be on any files.”

“Well, it is. So you need to start talking-“

“My first name?”

Bucky blinked. “What.”

“Was it my family name, James, or my name? My name is Helmut Zemo.”

“Uh,” Bucky glanced to Her, and She shook her head. “Family name.”

“Interesting.”

Bucky frowned. “What-“

“You look to the girl.” Zemo hummed. “For orders.”

Not useful anger. “That isn’t what should be interesting. Why is your family name on the files.”

“Oh, that isn’t interesting.” Zemo waved Bucky off with a sigh. “My father. He was often foolish. Liked to sponsor Hydra projects with what he believed to be potential. Ouroboros went under quite dramatically, as I remember. Only half in association with Hydra, mysterious funding, a gamble that did not seem to pay. And their prize, the Leviathan,” Zemo laughed, and it crawled over Bucky’s skin. “I visited with my father, once. I was interested in the science of it, and some strings were pulled for me to see the lab.”

“I thought you weren’t involved with Hydra,” Bucky muttered, and Zemo shrugged.

“It was unwise to not associate with Hydra, at the time. And I was mostly just curious of this project. A world-eater. The ultimate weapon.” Zemo laughed. “It was just as terrifying as promised. Black eyes.”

She tensed. “Eyes?”

“And glowing, white hair. Like biblical angels and demons all at once, come to bring judgement on us all.”

“So they finished the Leviathan.” Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “It’s done.”

“Yes. For over two decades. And it was all power. You could feel it, in the room. And that was in its infancy. I imagine now, it would be dreadful. Damning.” Zemo gave Bucky a small smile, his voice dropping to something soft. “You should know this, James.”

Bucky scowled, and the Soldat was banging on his skull. “Really.”

Zemo nodded. “You have met it.”

The Soldat roared in the back of his brain. And in the distance, he could sort of hear Her wrapping it up. Thanking Zemo for his cooperation—of course She would—and thanking Ayo as well. 

He’d never met the Leviathan. 

He didn’t think he had.

He had no memory of it. 

But he didn’t have clear memory of… a lot of things.

Fuck.

“White Wolf.” Ayo said, and Bucky shook himself. Focus. “I hope this was as helpful as you wished it to be.”

“It was.” He muttered, and She gave a small nod in agreement. “Could you ask Shuri to send me anything Wakanda has on Hydra or their science? I can, uh- Write an email-“

“I will pass it on.” Ayo said, Bucky grumbled his thanks, and the screen went dark.

“That didn’t go horribly.” She mumbled, and Bucky grunted. “I mean, that’s something, right?”

“Yeah.” He muttered. It wasn’t enough, though. “I’m thinking the numbers might line up with more missions.”

“Right.” She mumbled, poorly hiding a yawn behind Her hand. “Smart.”

Bucky let out a slow breath. 

The Soldat was still scratching at his head. Zemo had been a cryptic asshole, and if Bucky hadn’t been drowning in his own head, he would’ve pushed for more. More information, more leads, more anything.

They had what they had. And Bucky could deal with the itch of the Soldat himself, later. Pounding at the base of his skull, trying to rip a fog away that Bucky wasn’t even sure was real.

But She was real. Looking up at Bucky with a pretty frown, and looking exhausted again. 

He could deal with that now.

“C’mon.” Bucky started to stand, and She frowned at him.

“Buck-“

“It’s late, Butterfly.”

“You’re up too-“

“I’m a super-solider.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s so annoying when you pull that card-“

“Yeah, I know. C’mon.”

“But we need to talk about that-“

His jaw clenched. “Tomorrow.”

“Bucky-“

He muttered Her name, holding Her gaze, and grabbing her chin again. 

She definitely should have pushed him away that time.

She still didn’t.

“Please.” He mumbled. He needed to do something. Everything was out of his hands, and a mess, and he fucking hated messes. He was so good at making them. He’d always tried to be good at cleaning them up. 

He wasn’t, though.

And She was tangible. Warm under his hands. Something he could fix. Could do something about.

She had to understand that. Her, of all people, needed to get that the Soldat was bursting and ripping in his head, and he just couldn’t.

She was scanning over him so carefully, and Bucky tried to make his features as open as possible. It wasn’t easy.

But for Her, he’d try. 

“Okay.” She whispered, and Bucky could feel his shoulders slump, the air is his lungs growing less hot in a split second. “Do you wanna eat dinner at my place?”

Bucky gave Her a small grin. He couldn’t think of a single damn thing in the world that would be better. “I’m buying.”

She scoffed, pushing to Her feet. “No, you’re not.”

“Try me, Butterfly-“

“I will.” She gave him a wide smile, falling right into pace at his side. “I’ll kick your ass.”

Not trying to make him talk about it. Or confront it. Just there, and smiling at him.

Caring.

She cared. 

Bucky knew She cared, because She didn’t waver or balk for a second. She let him drive, but stole his phone so he couldn’t buy the food. She glared at the Boy—strange, luminous eyed creature, looking at Bucky like he could see into his brain—when he jumped onto Bucky’s lap, but it was fake. 

Bucky knew when She was being fake. 

This was real. Her knee against his. Her laugh filling the air. 

And Bucky felt better. 

Good.

She was there, and even after the whole day, even with the Soldat, Bucky felt fucking good.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt good.

But he knew, looking at Her in all Her inhuman beauty and exhaustion, he’d never be able to ask to feel anything better than this. 

End Note: The plot. It thickens. The tension. It's going to snap. They both. Need to kiss.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[ripeindecember]

Okay 🫶 🫶

---------

Nico rolls off of the bed with a soft groan. When Will had pulled him close, he hadn’t felt any breaks or wounds, thank the gods, but his muscles were twitching with exertion and exhaustion. 

“Hot shower will help,” Will says, rifling through his closet. “I don’t have a second pair of shower shoes, but you can wear my crocs.” 

Nico snorts, letting his coat fall onto the floor with a wet shlunk. “I’m gonna look like a little kid playing dress up.”

“Put ‘em in sport mode,” Will responds with a grin, arms piled with fresh clothes, shower caddy firmly in hand. “Besides, it’s like 3 in the morning. No one else is going to be in the showers. Most of the floor still has that legion training mentality where they don’t leave their room for the night, like, no matter what.” 

The two of them slink out of Will’s room. Putting Will’s crocs in sport mode does not, in fact, help, and they smack against Nico’s heels the entire walk. 

“You’re a giant-footed freak,” Nico grumbles, as Will directs him into his favorite shower stall, turning it on to a bone-melting heat.

“You should try not being small.” Will shoots back primly, and then does a very bad job of holding in a giggling shriek when Nico gooses him. 

Will strips himself out of his clothes as fast as possible, before turning his attention to Nico. The long sleeve shirt Nico is wearing is illegible. Will peels it off of him, and Nico sighs, rolling his neck out. His jeans are caked in mud, shredded. Complete lost causes. Will pops the button on them, working them slowly down Nico’s legs. Nico winces once, where they catch on a spot of dried blood, but they come off easy enough. 

“Okay,” Will murmurs, once they’re both sufficiently shower-ready. “In.” He steers Nico softly by the shoulders, and the two of them slide into the tiny stall.

Nico moans once the hot water hits his skin, loud. He rolls his head back, letting it run down his scalp, and his face. The water sloughing down his skin runs brown with dirt almost immediately. 

“My RA is going to think I’m fucking you in here,” Will snorts, as he lathers his hands with shampoo and works them into the hair on Nico’s scalp. 

“Christ,” Nico sighs out, pushing his head up to get more of the sensation. “I don’t even care. Keep doing that.” Will does. He works his fingers through the mats in Nico’s hair gently, washing out mud and the occasional leaf until the water starts to run clear again. 

“Okay,” Will murmurs, after some time, turning Nico around and putting his head under the spray gently. “Final rinse, then condition.” Nico just hums softly as Will combs conditioner through his hair, closed eyed and blissed out. 

That is, until Will asks; “Do you want me to do this while the conditioner is doing its stuff?” 

Nico blinks his eyes open slowly, to see Will, holding a small, very sharp shavette in his hand. 

“Um,” Nico murmurs. “You don’t have to. I can do it. After.” 

“I know. But I want to, y’know. You’re sleepy. It would be faster.” 

“Okay,” Nico breathes. “Okay. That's. Okay.” 

Will lathers his hands with another cream and ever so gently spreads it across Nico’s jaw, his cheeks, his neck. He gently starts moving the razor across the skin of his face. 

With medical precision, the beard Nico had grown as he trekked across Alaska is shaved away. Will is focused, intent with every movement, careful to be extra gentle around the scar tissue crossing Nico’s jaw, delicate, butterfly strokes over the errant hairs that grow near his jugular. Will can see Nico’s eyes glued to him, wide, doe-like, water droplets caught in his lashes, dilate a little more with every stroke of the blade. 

Eventually, every hair is washed down the drain, and Nico is left, fresh-faced, looking much more like himself, staring up at Will with lips parted ever so slightly, in shoes four sizes too big for him. 

“Better?” Will asks softly, clicking the blade shut. “Less itchy?”

“I love you,” Nico breathes in response. 

Will leans in, pressing a kiss into the now clean-shaven crook of Nico’s jaw. “I know,” he murmurs into Nico’s wet skin. He can feel the rumble of Nico’s laughter in his chest. 

“I knew you were going to Han Solo me, you fucking dork.” Nico snorts. Will kisses his jaw again before pulling away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will sing-songs. “The water is running cold. Let me brush the conditioner out of your hair, and then we can go to bed.” 

Nico turns around again, and Will picks up the wide tooth comb from his caddy, working it through Nico’s hair until it doesn’t snag. He cuts the water off, and then blindly reaches for the towels he brought in with him.

The way that the two of them towel off, scrubbing water out of their hair and off their bodies would probably make the Aphrodite cabin cry. But it’s almost four in the morning, and Nico is dead on his feet, so to speak. Will wrestles a so-worn-it’s-almost-white blue cabin 7 hoodie over Nico’s shoulders, and hands him a pair of basketball shorts that are at least 2 sizes too big, before putting his own pajamas back on. 

Nico yawns so wide that Will can see light glint off of the silver filling in his back molar. “Bed now?” He murmurs hopefully.

“Yeah,” Will answers. “Bed now.” 

When Will peels his eyes open, slowly at first, the figure standing in the dark of his dorm room is hard to make out.

It’s wearing a hood. Bearded. The room, dark and cool enough as it is, thanks to the janky A/C system, smells like sodden earth in a way that it definitely didn’t when Will went to sleep. 

Nico had been sent on a mission by his father, three weeks ago, and since then, it’s been radio silence. Will has been, he’ll admit, completely out of his mind with worry. Three weeks is a long time for Nico. He’s not one to ignore him, to not answer phone calls, Iris messages. And now there's this spectre in his room, looming over him. 

It moves towards Will’s bed in the dark, and he scrambles backwards, pressing his spine into the painted cinderblocks of his wall as it gently reaches towards the lamp on his nightstand.

In his half asleep haze, Will watches Hades’ face flash into view as the light flicks on. His heart rate skyrockets, his soul plummets. Nico’s been hurt, he thinks. Or worse. A wounded little sound slips from his throat. 

“What’s the matter, sunshine?” Hades murmurs, warm and teasing. “Not happy to see me?”

Will blinks. Rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes, waking himself up fully, and then…

Notices that who he thought was Hades has slashes of scar tissue across his jaw where his beard isn’t growing in. Notices that his nose is a little crooked, from being broken and reset more than once. Notice that he’s much more olive-tan than the lord of the dead, he has beauty marks dotting his skin, and has deep warm coffee eyes, instead of abyss black. 

“Oh my god,” Will mutters, grabbing Nico and hauling him, rain-slick coat and all, onto the bed. He tucks his nose into the crook of Nico’s jaw. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Nico laughs out. “Did I scare you?”

“Sort of,” Will breathes, the words rumbling into Nico’s skin. “I kind of thought you were your dad. Maybe. A little bit.” 

Nico pushes up, giving Will a flat, mock-wounded look. “I’ve been gone for three weeks, and this is how you treat me?” 

“Can you blame me, though?” Will murmurs in response, cupping Nico’s face and scratching his jaw. Nico’s eyes flutter shut, like a cat being pet. He’s almost purring. “I mean, what is this?”

“I was fighting a group of griffins in Beaver Creek because I needed something from their horde. Everything was going fine until one of them was able to nab me and get me across the border, like, a really long way into Alaska.” Nico grumbles out. “I had to trek my way back to the Canadian border on foot before I was able to shadow travel again.” 

“So you grew a sexy wilderness beard, huh,” Will snorts. 

Nico pops one eye open and fixes Will with a mild glare. “You can not say it’s sexy right after saying it made you think I was my dad.” 

“I moreso thought you were your dad because I hadn’t heard from you in three weeks and I thought you had died, and he was coming to tell me in person.” Will murmurs. “I’ve been giving him, like, whole meals as offerings for a week now.” 

Nico’s eyes slide shut again, and he buries his face into Will’s chest. “He’s two feet taller than me.” 

“I was worried.”

Will can feel it when Nico’s smile cracks against his chest, and when he snuggles closer. He squirms. “That tickles so bad.” 

Nico sighs. “It itches too. I should go shower, huh.” 

“You are getting mud on my bed.” Will concedes. “I could help you with it, if you want. Showering. Shaving. Whatever else.”

“Whatever else?” Nico says, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim of the lamplight.

“You’ve been gone for three weeks,” Will shoots back. “There’s time to make up for.”

[cinnamon7girl7]

"I CHOOSE YOU... OVER AND OVER AGAIN"

It was a night heavy with tension.

The clouds hung like lead over the hills, and a freezing wind shook the trees, as if nature itself sensed what was about to happen.

The mission wasn’t supposed to be that complicated. Suguru and Satoru knew that—it was just a cursed sorcerer with illusory techniques, known more for playing with perception than for his actual strength. But something went wrong.

—Don’t get cocky, Satoru —Suguru muttered as they advanced across the slippery terrain—. This guy’s smarter than he is strong.

Satoru simply smiled with his usual playful arrogance, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

—Me? Cocky? Come on, Geto. When have I ever failed?

Suguru gave him a serious look but didn’t press it. The air was heavy with a strange pressure. The curse was nearby. They could feel it.

And then—it happened.

A flash. A fleeting reflection. The mist closed in around them. Suguru couldn’t react in time.

Satoru was caught by an illusion technique —a strange seal that didn’t affect the body… but the mind.

Satoru’s scream echoed briefly, more out of surprise than pain. By the time Suguru managed to purify the enemy with a slicing curse, his friend was already on the ground, on his knees, his gaze lost and his hands trembling.

—Satoru! —he shouted, running toward him.

Gojo lifted his face, breathing heavily. He was conscious. Physically intact. But his eyes —even behind the glasses— looked different.

—What… happened? —he whispered, as if everything around him were just a distant echo.

Suguru stared at him, confused. He helped him up.

On the way back, Satoru remained silent. No jokes. No comments. Just stared out the window with a… hollow expression.

That night, you were waiting for him at the school, full of anxiety.

They had told you it was a dangerous mission, but a short one. You had spent hours checking your phone, watching the entrance, feeling that weight in your chest that only eases when you see those blue eyes walk through the door, smiling, saying: Calm down, sweetheart. I’m here.

But when the door opened, something was different.

Satoru walked in, accompanied by Suguru, with such a dull, confused expression. You walked toward him, smiling because he was finally back. But he stopped you a meter away.

—Do I… know you? —he asked.

The world shattered in that instant.

Your voice died in your throat. Your heart sank. You thought he was joking, that it was one of his usual pranks, that he’d laugh and hug you like always. But no.

Satoru didn’t recognize you.

Suguru came closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

—He’s not hurt… but… something happened. He doesn’t remember things. We don’t know how deep the curse went, but it seems to have affected his emotional memories.

—Me? —you asked in a whisper.

—Especially you —Suguru murmured, his voice breaking.

Since that day, everything changed.

You didn’t want to force anything.

It didn’t feel right.

You didn’t show him photos, didn’t try to make him remember. It wasn’t fair. Not to him, not to you.

But you stayed close.

As a friend.

As support.

As a presence.

He didn’t avoid you either.

Satoru looked at you with curiosity. He listened to you. Sometimes, he smiled when you said something that seemed to echo somewhere deep, hidden inside him. There were moments when he stared at you for too long. Moments when his fingers brushed against yours while passing a notebook. Moments when he seemed like he wanted to say something... but didn’t know what.

And you, in the meantime, broke in silence.

Suguru didn’t let you fall.

He was there.

He understood you.

And he saw what you couldn’t yet see clearly: that Satoru was starting to drift toward you again. As if his soul remembered you, even if his mind didn’t.

One day, Suguru sat with you on the dojo bleachers.

—You know, some bonds don’t need logic. There are things the heart remembers, even when the mind forgets.

—And what if it never goes back to how it was? —you looked at him, swallowing your tears.

Suguru smiled at you gently and simply said,

—What if this time, it’s even better?

Days passed.

Then weeks.

And in that time, Satoru began doing things he didn’t even understand.

Like that time he saw you brushing your hair in the gardens of the campus and, without thinking, walked over to help you. With clumsy hands, he tried to tie your hair with a loose band.

—Did I do this before? —he asked, with a hesitant smile.

—Yes —you answered, voice trembling—. All the time.

Or that day he saw you cooking with Shoko in the dorm kitchen, and he walked in without warning, stole a strawberry from the bowl, and placed it in your mouth —as if he’d done it a thousand times.

—Sorry, it was just an impulse —he said, embarrassed.

—It’s okay.

—It felt really natural —he murmured.

—It was —you whispered.

He didn’t understand why his body sometimes moved on its own, why your laugh gave him that ache in his chest, why looking into your eyes soothed a pain he didn’t even know he had.

Suguru noticed, silently. He saw how Satoru began to look for you with his eyes. How his jokes started coming more often. How he sat a little closer to you in the dining hall. How he only laughed when you laughed first.

And you —even if your heart bled for everything he didn’t remember— couldn’t help but smile when he let himself follow that instinct pulling him back to you.

One training afternoon, Satoru tripped and fell sitting down, laughing.

—Who puts a dumbbell in the middle of the field?! —he shouted.

—You. You put it there this morning to practice with Megumi —you answered, walking over to him.

He looked up at you.

—Really?

You nodded. And he looked at you, squinting.

—Do you always know everything?

—Not everything. Just... the important things.

Satoru fell silent. He looked at you as if he wanted to read your soul.

—Do you know who you were to me?

And you, with a lump in your throat, only said:

—The one who waited for you even when you didn’t know you had gone.

The nights began to weigh heavier.

One of them, it was raining. Hard. Everyone was asleep.

You went out for some air. And Satoru did too. Maybe fate. Maybe instinct.

You found him on the building’s roof, soaked, his glasses dripping.

He looked at you, took them off, and smiled.

—I don’t know why I like coming here —he said.

—You always said it was the only place where the world couldn’t catch you —you answered.

He came closer. Slowly.

Not like the confident Satoru he used to be, but like someone exploring a sacred place without knowing he had already lived there.

He took your hand.

—I want to remember —he said, his eyes fixed on yours.

—You don’t have to —you whispered.

—Why not?

—Because you’re here. And that’s enough.

There was silence. The rain fell over you both, but it didn’t matter.

Satoru raised a trembling hand and touched your face.

—Can I...? —he asked, and you knew what he meant.

But you didn’t kiss him.

You just rested your forehead against his.

You closed your eyes.

And in that moment, the world disappeared.

Because even if he didn’t remember, your soul did.

And his... was starting to, too.

The rain passed.

But inside Satoru, a storm remained.

That night he didn’t sleep.

He sat on his bed, staring at the hands that had touched your face. He felt like he had known you forever... and yet, he couldn’t recall a single clear memory.

The next day, he went to see Suguru. He found him meditating in the back gardens.

—Is something wrong? —Suguru asked without opening his eyes.

—Yes —Satoru admitted—. And I don’t know how to say it.

Suguru barely smiled.

—Then say it badly. But say it.

Satoru sat across from him. He swallowed hard.

—She… —he started, not knowing how to call you—. She makes me feel things I don’t understand.

—And why should you understand them? —Suguru said, opening one eye.

—Because it’s like I know her. Like I need her. But I don’t remember. It makes me angry. It scares me.

Suguru took a deep breath. Sat up straight, looking him in the eye.

—Listen, Satoru. Not all love comes from memory. Some come from the soul. There are bonds the body keeps even when the mind forgets. And you… you loved that way.

—Her?

—Her —Suguru nodded—. But you don’t need me to tell you. You’re already feeling it, aren’t you?

Satoru looked down. His fingers trembled.

—So, what do I do?

Suguru smiled at him with a tenderness only he could have.

—Follow your instinct. Love doesn’t always need logic. Sometimes it’s enough to just let it bloom... again.

That afternoon, Satoru looked for you.

He found you in the school greenhouse, watering the plants you had planted together long ago. He didn’t know it, but you did.

—Can I talk to you? —he asked, his voice soft.

You set the watering can aside. You nodded.

Satoru approached, unsure.

—I don’t want to hurt you with this… but I need to know.

—Whatever you need, Satoru.

—Who were you to me?

Your lips trembled. You lowered your gaze. And, like someone opening a very old wound, you whispered:

—We were everything that wasn’t said out loud.

He closed his eyes. As if those words hit something deep inside.

—I don’t remember —he said, in pain—. I don’t remember how I loved you. I don’t remember when I kissed you for the first time, or how you made me laugh on bad days. I don’t remember what we shared…

You began to cry silently. But you stayed strong.

—It’s okay. I won’t force you.

Satoru looked up. His eyes, empty of memories, were full of something stronger.

—I don’t remember… but I love you anyway.

Your heart stopped.

—What?

—I don’t understand why. I have no proof. No memories. But I feel it. I feel it like I always have. Like you’re my place, even if I don’t know how I got here.

He moved closer. Slowly. He took your hand.

—Will you let me come back to you? Step by step. From the beginning. But with you.

You, through tears, just nodded.

And then he kissed you.

For the second time in his life… or maybe the thousandth.

But for him, it was the first.

And for you… it was the return.

Days passed.

And even though Satoru didn’t recover his memories, he didn’t need them to keep falling in love with you.

You shared breakfasts in the dining hall, walks at sunset, quiet conversations where you didn’t tell him what it was before, but what it was now.

Sometimes he asked if he had done something silly, if he had danced with you in the rain or tried to bake cookies (spoiler: yes, and he burned the kitchen).

You laughed.

And he looked at you as if your laughter was a melody his soul recognized. Suguru watched you from a distance, always with a quiet smile. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t force anything. He just let you be.

One night, while the city slept, Satoru took you to the school roof.

—Do you remember when I asked you who you were to me? —he said, as you sat side by side, a blanket over your legs.

—Yes.

—Now I think I know —he whispered—. Not because of memories. But because I feel it. I feel like this place makes no sense without you. That if you’re not here, something in me is missing. Like you’re the language I think in, even if I don’t speak it very well.

You leaned on his shoulder. He rested his head on yours.

—I have no memories of our past… but I have plans with you for the future.

You turned slowly.

He took your face in his hands. His lips trembled.

—And if that’s not love… then let someone tell me what else it could be.

He kissed you.

This time, with all intention.

No past. No explanations. Just the present… And a future he was willing to build with you.

There, on that roof, Satoru remembered nothing. But he felt everything. And in the end, that was enough. Because he had chosen to stay.

And he wasn’t planning to ever leave again.

[hawkeyes-boy]

a charity football match is on tv and now I can't stop thinking abt ptmc charity football match

im thinking either day shift vs night shift (competitive but light-hearted) OR medical vs surgical (VIOLENT BRUTAL BATTLE TO THE DEATH)

I have so many thoughts abt day shift vs night shift

robby and jack as coaches, robby plays the old man card and blames his bad back. jack does a stint in goal using his crutch(es) but then retires to manager opposite robby making terrible FOOTball jokes the whole time. robby doesnt start out competitive but you KNOW jack brings it out in him by the end

then the line up:

frank as the day shift striker cos of course he his, just look at the hair. hes fast and skillful but he dives pathetically and jack yells at him lmao

mel is a winger, shes also pretty fast but shes not very technical. she does have a knack for reading the game (or maybe just frank...) and sets him up some great shots

dennis is on the other wing and he's surprisingly good, but he panics and boots it too much and also goes down like a wet paper towel - not diving he's just,,, flimsy

samira in centre mid, shes a bit slow on the ball, takes too many touches, but when she can hold onto it she gets some great balls through to mel/frank

dana as the centre back running that defensive line like a pro, she doesn't need to shout but you best believe that line is so straight they're calling offside every ten minutes (it makes a vein start to show in jack's neck)

collins as right back, not very fast but solid and persistant making her very difficult to get around. the only time robby actually shouts from the sideline is when there's a particularly strong challenge on collins

mckay as left back (she strikes me as a lefty idk why Imao) similar to collins but plays DIRTYYYY, you know she does, shes pulling some filthy slide tackles. jack doesnt even have a go cos he respects it. shit talks like a MOTHERFUCKER too. sorry just heart eyes thinking abt her gimme a minute

santos in goal 1000%. i played women's football for a long time and let me tell you she fits the blueprint to the fucking millimetre. she's played since she was a kid and she runs that team like the fucking navy, the MOST invested person on the pitch. she's yelling at everyone keeping them all in line and giving genuinely sound tactical advice - unfortunately it's rarely followed because she gets too irate. she nearly makes dennis cry and robby makes her go sit on the bench to calm down for a minute lmao

javadi's the water girl and she takes her job very seriously, she's also in charge of the cold spray and tape which in amateur football is like a performance enhancing drug comparable to dope, and again she takes this responsibility very seriously

OK AND THEN NIGHT SHIFT

I'm giving them surgical too for the numbers and also because I want to

the main reason I want to is garcia. . . she's up front and it's mostly because she's a genuinely decent striker. . .but its also definitely not not because jack noticed santos seems a bit more distractable when garcia's in her eyeline. . .

walsh also has goalkeeper vibes to me, calling the shots from the back

shen. . . . I cannot see as a footballer. jack puts him on as a winger and he's competent, but he refuses to run too far after someone and just does a 🤷‍♂️ when jack and walsh threaten to give him a reason to run

ellis is centre mid and she's holding the team together, she's not the fastest but she's not slow and she's skilled, experienced, solid and tactical too. she's their secret weapon and jack doesn't even pretend to actually be managing anything, he just repeats what she says from the lines but louder

[shoyogun]

pleaser(s)

timeskip! oikawa tooru x fem!reader

w/c: 1.4k

genre: smut

contains: dry humping, heavy makeout, oral(f+m receiving), first date, no use of y/n or pet names!

oikawa has always been a people pleaser. 

what made it evident on this first date was his gentle demeanor towards the waiter, maybe a little too many ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s, and the neat stack of plates and cups by the end of the dinner. 

he must’ve been so excited that you were having as good of a time as he was to keep the night going at your place. must’ve meant he was doing something right. 

your apartment is cozy and dimly lit. you’ve got light music playing while in conversation with oikawa on the couch. he wonders if he’d be doing something right again by leaning in and kissing you. i mean you’re sitting close enough and was that a quick glance at his lips he just saw?  

he leans in slowly and you slowly stop talking, forgetting what you even meant to say. your lips are a hair’s breadth apart before he pauses, which signifies one last ‘are you sure?’ you push forward, as if to say ‘yes.’ he teases and pulls back before letting your lips touch in a deep kiss. you both exhale a breath neither of you knew you were holding in. 

the exchange becomes more heated at the swipe of your tongue across oikawa’s bottom lip. he moans at the sensation and he’s happy to feel it swiping another time. this time he doesn’t miss the opportunity to suck on it and tangle his own tongue with yours. when he means to pull it back, he’s surprised you’re now sucking on him. 

swiftly making sure not to break the kiss, he guides you to straddle his hips where you’re met by his hard length. immediately, you start to slowly grind, pleasure racing through both of you instantly. heavy breathing, moaning, groaning, and cursing ensues. kissing turns to making out and oh it is messy. continuations of earlier’s dance between tongues but there’s more urgency, more need. lips are swollen from the biting and sucking but it feels so good. it feels even better when oikawa’s hands settle on your ass to push you harder onto him. 

“fuck,” you have to break the kiss because “i’m gonna cum.”

and you do because oikawa guided you through it with the same pace and pressure. he works you through your orgasm and makes sure to hold you once you’ve come down. he asks you the most genuine “are you ok?” and all you can do it giggle and start kissing him again. when the kissy gets messy again, oikawa takes it as a signal to keep going. 

again, without breaking the kiss, he changes your positions so you’re on your back with your head on the armrest of the couch. he starts to trail kisses down your neck, making sure to give attention to both sides before littering them along your chest. you thank your past self for choosing the low-cut shirt. while kissing between chest and neck, oikawa fondles with your tits. one occupying each of his hands as he runs his thumbs along your nipples. they harden only within a few swipes. once he feels them pert enough, he pulls down your top to expose your tits and they’re glorious. oikawa wastes no time in returning to kissing and then sucking one of your nipples. he rolls the bud around his tongue before biting gently. you almost scream at the intensity of it all. if that weren’t intense enough, the other nipple is soon being rolled between his fingers, making sure not to neglect either bud. 

oikawa sucks and sucks and sucks before switching to the other bud. where he sucks and sucks again. though he’s occupied with your chest, he doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub together underneath him. he makes sure to give your tits a little more attention before he starts kissing down your belly. he looks at you curiously when he lays a kiss below your belly button and you nod at him. you go to unbutton your jeans but oikawa does it all for you. he also helps you out of your shirt because the boobs spilling out the top definitely couldn’t have been comfortable anymore. 

so there you lay completely naked for him. and it would be a sin for him not to tell you how beautiful you look. so he tells you.

“you’re beautiful.”

you blush and say a shy ‘thank you.’

he kisses you softly on the lips before working his way back down. he had to. 

when he faces your cunt, you’re violently wet and your clit is swollen. you look delicious. he runs his tongue up your pussy to get the best taste of you before settling on your clit, switching between sucking and licking and maybe a little biting. his tongue feels so warm on you and he’s so good at this, your eyes start to roll back. you gasp when you feel a finger enter but it’s welcome. it’s even more welcome when one finger magically becomes two and they’re working inside of you, pushing up into just the right spot. the rhythm between being eaten out and being fingered was so perfect, oikawa had you cumming a second time just like that. this orgasm was much stronger than the last and had you shaking. as you calmed down, oikawa placed gentle kisses along your thighs before resting his chin on one of them to look at you. he could confidently say you looked fucked out. 

“hi,” he started. 

“hah hi,” you returned. “you’re good at that.”

you’re sure he knew that purely from how hard you came but some verbal affirmation never hurt anyone. and that smile he gave you from those words was priceless. 

“thank you, just want you to feel good.”

“and i want you to feel good, too,” you reply. 

oikawa didn’t pick up the fact that you’re also a people pleaser like you did him during the date.

you pull him up from where he lay to kiss him and taste yourself on his tongue, first. then, you reposition yourself to be on top of him to lay kisses along his neck while unbuttoning his shirt. when it’s finally off, you run your hands up and down his chest before kissing downward, sliding yourself onto the floor in between oikawa’s legs. 

the first thing you notice is his bulge is big. you bite your lip at the though of it in your mouth. when you unleash him from his pants and boxers, he is big and leaking. you must’ve been staring for too long before oikawa goes, “uh, you really don’t have t-”

you cut him off and say, “no!” maybe too excitedly. “uh uhm, i mean no,” good save,”i really want to.”

you spit in your hand and pump him a few times before licking at the tip. you circle your tongue around the tip to tease before running your tongue on the underside of his cock. when you return to the tip, you slowly take oikawa inch by inch in your mouth. he whimpers at the feeling of your hot mouth around him and he fights the urge to thrust into you all the way. you only make it half way before having to come up for air. on the second way down, you successfully fit most of him, his tip snug at the back of your throat. the feeling of you swallowing around almost makes him cum. you make sure to lick wherever your tongue can find purchase. he goes crazy when you start to play with his balls while you swallow around him. he brings his hand up to put in your hair but he stops himself. you see this and grab his hand and place it in your hair for him. at the given permission he bottoms out in your mouth and starts bobbing your head up and down. the tearful gaze you send him has his dick harden completely and the sounds you make are obscene. he bottoms out in your mouth again before he pulls you off him. 

“fuck fuck fuck wait i’m close.”

“cum in my mouth, wan’ you to feel good,” you slur. 

“fuck ok.”

and you both waste no time for him to be snug in your throat again. you swallow and lick and hum to help him. when he cums, you swallow every last drop. 

its your turn to rest your head on his thigh. 

“hi,” you say. 

oikawa’s hand goes to your face to wipe any remaining tears. 

“hi.” “you’re good at that.”

[stellaspectral]

hello! could i ask for some headcanons of the rottmnt boys and unrequited love? where they love the reader but they do not correspond to their feelings, either confessing and get friendzoned or never talking about it so they don’t get awkward, what fits them more in your opinion, you choose. if you don’t write for all of them, just leo is fine. tysm!!!

A/N: Dear anon, I decided to write headcanons for all four of our boys—because I, apparently, can’t resist torturing them by breaking their hearts into a million pieces. I do hope these capture what you wanted, though.

Enjoy 💔

Rise Turts & Unrequited Love

💚 ROTTMNT Turtles/Gender Neutral Reader 💚

CWs: Angst, one-sided pining, unrequited love, internalized pain, and emotional suppression. All characters are aged-up.

LEO

You think Leo flirts with everyone, so when he teases you or tosses you a wink, you laugh it off. He plays along, acting like it’s all in fun. But your lack of seriousness stings in ways he never lets show.

He considers confessing a hundred times. Even almost convinces himself once during a quiet patrol. But when you smile and say something about how lucky someone will be to have him someday, the words die in his throat.

Instead of telling you how he feels, he buries the feelings under sarcasm and jokes. “Feelings? Ew, gross,” he says with a grin. You laugh, not knowing how hard he’s biting the inside of his cheek.

He’ll try to ask about your love life in the most nonchalant ‘just curious, as a friend’ way possible. The casualness is usually a bit too forced, and he’s listening a little too intently to your answer.

He makes you laugh on purpose because it’s the closest he can get to making your heart skip. You don’t notice the brief pauses where he watches you longer than a friend should.

He convinces himself he’s fine. He’s the fun one. The reliable one. And that’s enough, right? Until he catches himself wondering, just for a second, what it would’ve been like if you loved him back.

You joke Leo is your ‘honorary big brother’ and he forces a laugh through the crack that runs down the center of his heart.

Sometimes he wonders if he should tell you, just to get it out. But he already feels like the side character in your story. And side characters don’t get the happy ending.

After being friendzoned, he makes a grand show of being totally, completely, 100% over it. He’ll flirt outrageously (and often terribly) with other people in front of you, as if to prove how unaffected he is.

He’ll still be your number one cheerleader. But now his compliments might come with a self-deprecating joke like, “Wow, you’re amazing! Clearly, you have excellent taste … in friends!” followed by a slightly too-wide grin.

Sometimes, in a moment of genuine camaraderie or when he’s not thinking, an old habit will slip through—a lingering gaze, a comment that’s a little too affectionate—before he catches himself, quickly covering it up with a snappy one-liner.

When he’s feeling down about things, he makes a point of loudly enjoying activities that don’t involve you, especially if you’re around to witness it. It’s a flimsy shield, but one he clings to. Because it’s better than acknowledging how much he hurts.

RAPH

Raph doesn’t realize he’s in love with you at first. He just knows your presence calms him, your smile makes his chest fluttery, and he would do anything to be around you and protect you.

Sometimes, when you’re just chilling, you might catch him looking at you with an expression that’s hard to place. One that’s a mix of fondness, a hint of sadness, and a deep, unwavering loyalty. It’s gone in an instant when he realizes you’ve caught him.

He confesses one night—stammering, eyes downcast, hands nervously wringing. You let him down gently, kind but firm. “You mean so much to me, Raph … just not like that.”

He nods and tells you it’s okay. And part of him really wants it to be. But later that night, he’s in the dojo, punching anything he can, because the pain in his chest is too much to contain.

Afterward, he keeps his distance for a while. Not out of anger, but to rebuild his walls. You never notice how carefully he regulates his voice around you now, how he never lingers too long.

When you hug him again for the first time after that, he freezes for half a second before wrapping his arms around you like nothing’s changed … even though everything has.

He never resents you. That’s not who he is. He’s just quietly, fiercely loyal—even if his heart breaks a little every time you talk about someone else.

You once fall asleep on his shoulder during a movie. He doesn’t move for two hours. His limbs go numb, but he’d sit there for eternity if it meant you felt comfortable next to him.

He avoids eye contact when you gush about someone else. Says he’s “just tired.” In reality, he’s trying not to cry or break something.

One day, you ask why he never dates. He shrugs, says he’s waiting for the right person. What he doesn’t say is he already found them.

Eventually, he quietly accepts things. He stays in your life as your rock, your protector. Even if it hurts sometimes, he’d rather be your friend than nothing at all.

Now, if someone else shows romantic interest in you, Raph gets extra watchful. But not in a jealous-possessive way, more like he’s vetting them. He’ll be subtly assessing if they’re good enough for you—because your happiness is paramount, even if it’s not with him.

DONNIE

Donnie realizes he loves you through data. Increased heart rate, focused attention span, decreased sarcasm around you. He logs it. Analyzes it. Yet, he still can’t logic his way out of it like he usually can with most things.

He never confesses. Because the risk of losing your friendship isn’t worth the gain. He’d rather suffer in silence than watch you pull away.

He builds things for you constantly: gadgets, upgrades, convenience tech. You thank him and call him a genius. He pretends it’s no big deal. He always wants to do more for you.

If you’re struggling with something, he’ll offer extremely practical, well thought out solutions, often delivered in a slightly clinical tone. It’s his way of stripping away the messy emotions he’s not comfortable expressing.

When you ask him to help you impress someone else, he says yes with a too-sharp smile. Later, he stares at his reflection and mutters, “Pathetic” at himself.

He tries to compartmentalize it, to move on. He creates a folder labeled ‘emotionally illogical processes’ in his mental storage. But when you’re near, every wall crumbles.

Despite everything, he’s still your Donnie. Witty, dramatic, helpful. If this is the only way he can be close to you, he’ll take it—even if it quietly destroys him.

You’re always in his lab, laughing at his banter, admiring his genius. It kills him because he knows you see him as a brother. A weird brother. Your words, not his.

He once codes an AI—a helpful assistant for lab work—based on your voice and personality. Though he doesn’t tell you this; it’s his little secret. And his worst mistake.

You compliment his latest invention, call him amazing, and hug him without thinking. He spends the next fifty-two minutes recalculating the physical effects of human touch on neural chemistry.

When you date someone, he pretends not to care. But the next night, the lab’s a mess. You assume he’s just overworked. He doesn’t correct you.

Eventually, he deletes the AI. Wipes the files. The echo of your digital voice in his lab is too painful now. He lets it go—like how someday he hopes to let go of you.

MIKEY

Mikey falls fast—and falls hard. He writes poems about your smile, paints you into the backgrounds of his art. And you have no idea.

He almost tells you once during a cozy movie night. But when you casually mention someone you’re crushing on, his heart drops like a brick.

You once call him your “favorite person,” and he lights up. But then you add, “You’re like the little brother I never had,” and the light dims behind his eyes.

He hides it better than most would. He still jokes with you, still makes you laugh. But sometimes, his eyes linger too long, and you don’t notice the way his hands tremble slightly when they brush yours.

He draws you in secret. Dozens of sketches, from memory, from dreams. Each version of you holds a different emotion he’ll never say out loud.

When you bake or cook together, he lets his fingers brush yours every chance he gets. You don’t notice. He tries to be okay with that.

He cries about it—in private, of course. Not loudly or melodramatically. Just quiet sniffles into a pillow after he sketches a picture of the two of you side by side. As if.

He creates a whole comic about a hero who loves someone they can never have. You read it and call it super emotional. He shrugs, saying, “Just something I made up,” with a soft smile.

Eventually, Mikey lets the feelings soften into something platonic. He loves you, still, but in a way that doesn’t hurt as much. It helps him continue being your sunshine—even if you never see him as anything more.

Even after he’s effectively friendzoned, his art still features you, but the tone shifts. It’s less overtly romantic and more about capturing your essence, your spirit, the things he loves about you as a friend. It’s a way for him to process and still celebrate you.

He’ll still be the first to offer you the best part of the pizza, now with an earnestness that says, “Our friendship is super important to me.”

When he sees you genuinely happy and laughing, especially if it’s something he contributed to (a joke, a fun activity), his smile is incredibly bright. It’s a bittersweet joy but seeing you happy always outweighs his feelings.

[dead-dovediner]

Backstage Pass (!groomer Frank, Gerard x reader)

triggers/warnings: Use of Y/N, Undersage sex, Underage drinking, Unprotected sex, Rape, Dubious consent, Non consensual, Explicit details of rape, Exaggerated writing, Blow job (male and female recieving), Forced blow job, Fingering, Threesome, Swallowing, Soft gagging, Rough sex, Pedophilia, Grooming, Shared partners, Anything else that I missed in this mess of insanity

word count: 5278

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!!!!

The music was loud in the bar and tonight's band is preparing to perform. They are a new band in town and half of the whole place gathered in the small venue to party. You've been in the bar since it opened it's doors, sipping on a cocktail even though you're underage; the bartenders here don't really give a fuck, as long as you have the money, you could be 12 and they'll still serve you. 

So it was a lucky afternoon to be sweet 16. Your part-time job at Barnes & Nobles paid enough to last you all night. So while sipping on your drink you watched the 5 guys unpack and tune in their instruments. 

The singer is walking back and forth between his band mates to check up on them for the hundredth time. It seems like he's nervous but the truth is he's just drunk-ish. He had more drinks than you, and you've been here longer. Either way, it's almost 7PM and time for the show.

You stand from the bar counter and make your way to the front row. The band doesn't pay necessarily a lot of attention to you, but one of the guitarists gives you a smile and a nod. You return the kind gesture.

The clock hits o'clock and the manager shouts out to them to hurry the fuck up. They nod in unison and the bar's earlier music cuts out, the lights dim and the chatter slowly dissolves as the singer grabs the microphone from the stand, then he starts speaking but the mic doesn't pick up his voice.

You can see someone running to the control station and a few awkward moments pass but at last the microphone turns on. The singer starts his monologue again, this time his voice coming through the speakers.

"Hi! Uh- I'm Gerard, and this is My Chemical Romance. I'd like to-" The crowd erupts and claps from throughout the venue fills the place with cheers, cutting him off before he could finish what he wanted to say. He chuckles and shushes the crowd like we are all children.

"Shh shh- Thank you, thank you, but please let me introduce the members first. We have Ray Toro on guitar," He points to the man with curls around his face and a kind demeanor. The guy-Ray-plays a quick riff and the crowd cheers, then Gerard continues. "my brother Mikey; on the bass." He also points to the member he's talking about, the shy looking guy just gives a small side wave, he looks like he doesn't want to be here, but who knows. "Frank on the other guitar, and Matt on our drums."

"Okay let's get this going. Our first song is called 'Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us', have fun!" He announces and after a few seconds the intro to the song starts. The guitars chime into the early night and Gerard's unique voice soothes the song into something way more then just a song.

You gape up at the stage as the men before you create a hypnotic spell over you, and before you know you're nodding along to the beat, trying to mumble the lyrics. They are like no one ever was; it's new and different in the best way.

Time is technically nonexistent, the songs flow into each other and they keep coming. Each small break between the songs, Gerard chats with the crowd, his drunk-ish behavior way more noticeable; sometimes he even glances down to you and when you catch his eyes on yours he gives you one of those panty soaking smiles. A smile that makes even you shiver. No one ever had such an impact on you.

Probably from and because of the alcohol you consumed, but you're staring at him. Examining his soft features as he gulps down some water in one of the breaks between songs. Your eyes locked on his throat, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as another mouthful of water gets swallowed by him. 

All the suddenly you feel hot, not just because the venue is small and filled, but because of Gerard. A small weird voice in the back of your mind is screaming "No! He's bad news! Don't.", however the alcohol in your system shushes it down to a soft almost silent whisper long forgotten; as your body gets more turned on than you knew it was possible.

Everything is slowed down and the music starts again, your head is dizzy but you're just smiling to yourself, jumping around to the powerful sounds of guitar. Freedom never felt better and your first thought is to get rid of your clothes since it's fucking hot inside. So you claw at the bottom of your top and with some struggle here and there you get rid of it. Letting it drop to the floor without a care in the world, leaving yourself in your low waisted pants and bra.

You continue the "dancing" and after a few songs you go back to the bar to order some more drinks because you're practically like the Sahara desert. The bartender slides the drinks to you as you grab some bills from your back pocket and you grab the drinks as he grabs the money.

You practically chug the drinks down, the alcohol in them not burning your throat anymore, instead it's just a pleasant aftertaste. After you're done finishing the drinks, the song comes to an end and Gerard announces the last song of the night.

"Tonight was a beautiful night. After the last song, the band will come meet some of y'all later. Don't forget to grab a CD of our debut album! Thank you to everyone who came to see us tonight! This is 'Demolition Lovers'."

The last song of the night... It starts with some slow guitar, full of emotions. You lean against the bar counter to keep you upright, you miss it the first time, and you almost fall off the stool but you find your balance as Gerard starts singing; and again you feel as if he had the powers of a siren, hauling you in so he can have you to play with.

The song builds up and at last it ends. Leaving both a heavy feeling and another wave of freedom, you shout a cheer and others join you. They bow before the crowd and they disappear in a room.

They'll be back right? Gerard said so- and you want to tell them how amazing they were. The crowd dissolves and there are only so many in the bar now; but you're still waiting for the band to reappear.

Then- the door they went in opens and Frank and Gerard comes walking out. They are all smiles and happiness. It almost made you forget that you wanted to go up to them; yet somehow you clicked out of the admiration and you were on your way to greet them. Stumbling into your own legs at times.

"Hey! I just wanted to say y'all were amazing tonight. It's rare to see new bands as great as you were." The words stuck to your tongue and you weren't sure if the words came out the right way or order, but they didn't care about your slurring.

They didn't care? But- they were looking at you, however not into your eyes… Was something wrong? You followed their gaze on your body, slowly looking down; there was nothing wrong.

In one moment you're looking for what's wrong and in the next one, the boys are leading you down a hallway away from the bar to the backrooms of the venue. You don't say anything; you don't even know your name to begin with, the alcohol definitely caught up ten times stronger.

They both had a soft hand on your (almost) bare back, guiding you.

"So- what's your name, sugar?" Gerard asked, a kind smile on his gorgeous face. He made you feel safe, and you were sure that while he's here nothing bad will happen. The voice in your head from earlier gagged by the alcohol.

"I- I'm Y/N." Again, your voice was a bit distant, like you weren't fully there.

"Y/N, that's a pretty name, nice to meet you." Said Frank as his tongue slipped out from his lips to play with his piercing; all while smiling. You couldn't help but watch the action closely, staring at his lips, warmness rushed over you and you could feel those damned butterflies. 

They were both really pretty, more so than the boys your age.

Frank took a turn and Gerard lead you after him. It was a room. A normal room, with a couch inside and a coffee table full of different things. There were bags and boxes spread throughout the whole place, and it looks like a staff room, for breaks and all.

Gerard closed the door behind you and turned the lock on. What was going on? You still didn't know why they took you here and the silence was starting to get a bit suspicious.

"Why are we here?" You asked slowly, slurring but making sure each word actually rolled off your tongue.

The two men just looked at each other almost like they were having a small conversation with only looks.

"Sweetheart, don't worry we're not going to do anything you don't want us to." At last Frank answered and he flopped down onto the leather couch. Most definitely lying but how would you know.

Gerard searched for something in a backpack somewhere on the floor and it was an awkward moment; well, for you. You didn't knew what to do or say so you just stood there watching them. Then Gerard found what he was searching for and after some foggy rather uneventful moments he hands you a drink.

"I'm sure you're a bit thirsty, are you not? I saw you enjoying the whole show. You were really pretty as you were dancing around." His voice is so sweet, the small rasps in it now more on the surface from singing. And now that he mentioned it though, yes you are thirsty. So you just gulp down the sweet drink and thank him the compliment shyly. 

"Come 'ere sweetie, I don't bite. Unless you want me to." Frank pats the couch besides him and raises an eyebrow. You stumble your way there. Sitting down on the couch at a respectful distance.

"So, Y/N, how old are you? I'm sure you're not over nineteen but I'm just making sure." The question slowly registers, but it's hard to think, even harder to respond to it. You try to remember your age, and only after some brainstorming were you able to mumble out your answer.

"I recently, uhh turned... wait- ah yes. Sixteen. I recently turned sixteen."  They were unmoved by the answer.

Wait. They? Where's Gerard? You didn't even notice that he left. Leaving you and Frank alone. Said man was staring at you, taking careful notes of the smallest details on your face and on you. Almost as if he was searching for something in your eyes. But what?

Then the door opened back up and Gerard came back. He locked the door again and sat down next to you. All the suddenly you felt small, as you were between the two men, still very drunk even though time passed. Hell- it felt like you were drunker now than before.

You haven't had alcohol in a good hour or two, you should feel at least a bit more sober, yet nope. The clouds in your mind were unmoving blocks. Then a warm hand on your thigh snapped you out of the useless try called thinking.

It was Gerard's hand, sitting on your clothed thigh already pretty high.

"Frank, the minutes. Did you count them?" 

Why would he count them? What's going on? You ask yourself the same questions over and over but you forget them every time.

"Just three more mins and she'll be no less then human slime." Who? You? Slime?

Gerard's hand slowly trailed even higher up your thigh. You didn't stop him; why? You couldn't- Even moving your hand took a lot of energy, stopping him would result in you passing out from trying too hard. But your hand only lifted up so much before your energy wore out and it fell down limp onto the damn couch.

"Ngh- What, What are you doing? I'm... only 16." Speaking was still hard but it wasn't as bad as anything else, like keeping your body upright on the couch or not closing your eyes.

You were trapped in your body, forced to feel and see while you couldn't do anything about... about what specifically? You don't know, but your guts are telling you it's nothing good.

"Shh- sugar, it'll be better if you ease into it. Let us take care of you. We know you're 16, that's why we chose you in the first place." His other hand slowly undoes your bra and gets rid of it. Leaving your small yet beautiful tits in the wild, for them to touch, see and taste.

"Minutes are over, Gee. We're free to do anything and she can't stop it." Frank adds in with a smirk on his face.

Gerard's comically larger hand cups one of your boobs and you want to protest, but the clouds in your mind whisper sweet things and the new touch of his hand feels nicer than it should, it makes your skin get all goose-bumpy and a weird feeling in your stomach fills you with butterflies again. 

Then hotness pools between your thighs, and you're not too naive, you know what is happening to your body, just not what's going on with your mind.

"This is wrong... You're way older than me." You grunt out as you watch both of them. Gerard's hand softly playing with one of your nipples, while his other hand is tracing circles on your thigh. Your breaths are a bit more rapid than they should be and you blame Gerard for it.

"That's the thrill of it sweetie, we'll be the one to ruin you first. Mhm, your small tits already made my cock rock hard. They look so soft and perfect." Frank snuggles closer to you and takes one of your hand to put it under his pants.

Grabbing his own hardening with your hand, he whimpers in your ear and the sound makes you want to whimper back, it's so hot; but you don't. Did they put something in your drink? No, there wasn't a time they could've. Was there?

Your thoughts spiral but with each passing second you feel yourself turn on more and more, even the way Frank is palming himself with your hand is hot right now.

"We're going to make you feel so  good you'll never forget it. When you'll be older, you'll be touching yourself to this memory." Frank thrusts up into your hand as Gerard observes him while he keeps fondling your underage breast.

"Mhm, Frankie's right. You'll never forget this." At last his hand leaves your breast and all of a suddenly it's cold without his inappropriate touch on you. But he doesn't give you a lot of time to complain about it as he sits up and leans over your chest, his warm breath making you no longer cold.

"I'm going to undress and feast on you. While Frank is going to keep your mouth busy. Right, Frank?" He kisses down on your collarbone and then each of your boobs, making sure they both get the same sloppy wet treatment as his hands are working on your jeans.

You don't even feel real, this is an out of body experience, however all of it is way too real at the same time. Gerard's mouth on your boobs and his chubby fingers undoing your zipper. Frank's hard throbbing dick in your limp hand, pumping against yours and his fingers. And in the back of your mind you might just give in.

Frank stops for a few moments to undress completely, his soft muscles tightening then relaxing as he gets butt naked. There are few tattoos here and there on his skin, and for a second it feels like time stops just so you could admire the ink carved into his skin.

You just admired the beautiful naked man before you; but Gerard was hooking his fingers into your jeans and that stole all of your remaining attention. He pulled it down in one swift movement, giving way to more of your skin and to your wet underwear.

He pulled the small clothing down slowly, teasing both himself and the very eager Frank next to you. When the small cloth is finally removed and you're exposed to the men like an animal in a cage at the zoo, does Gerard finally stand to undress too.

Revealing both his hard cock and somewhat chubby body; it was kind of attractive though, as well as Frank's lean body. To see how both of them got so worked up all because of you, like you're some Goddess they've got to worship.

"Fuck," Frank says to Gerard. "She's so beautiful." Responds Gerard.

Gerard kneels before the couch where you sit, pushing at your thighs to get a better view at you bare pussy, the slickness coating you. He runs two fingers over your slit, feeling you up and smearing the arousal around your clit. It feels great but there's still a fight in you, you're scared. Too bad you were a virgin, sure you did some stuff, but if they do get to that point-it'll hurt, and this is not how you want it to go.

But soon your view is not on what's going between your legs and your mind is not on if they'll rape you; much rather Frank's dick. One of his hands gripping your head by your hair as he pulls you to his lap, while his other hand lines up his length with your mouth, and you find yourself opening it for him. Why? You don't quite know.

He grins at you like a little kid in a candy shop as he slowly lowers your head to make you swallow around his cock. And the sounds he makes is all worth it for. All the gagging and choking, makes it worth it to hear this man moan so pretty.

A weird hot feeling comes from between your leg, and just then do you realize that Gerard's eating you out, lapping up your wetness with his tongue, and God does it feel good. You whimper around Frank's size as Gerard keeps teasing your bud with his skills.

They were right. You're never going to forget this night, for two reasons. One: being underage at a rock show is fun, two: they are making you feel things you never felt before. Sure, you used your hand before, but this is way better.

Frank approved of the sound you made over him and he thrusts up into your throat, making you gag again as he hit the back of your throat for an uncountable time. Saliva was drooling onto the couch from the sloppy bobbing of your head. Your tongue sliding against him from time to time, making his hand grab onto your head a bit rougher than intended.

The sensation of both receiving and giving oral is very overpowering; while Gerard is making you feel like jelly with his precise technique, Frank is grounding you at the moment as he keeps slipping in and out of your mouth. The velvety texture of the soft skin of his dick feels nice against your lips and tongue.

Gerard teases your entrance first with just a finger, then he slowly pushes it inside, and the feeling is both familiar yet unknown. Only one finger of his feels like two of yours, but gosh the pressure in your lower stomach feels amazing.

Frank keeps adding up to the pace of his thrusts into your mouth, the sounds of your choked of whimpers and gagging a mix of sloppy sounds. He's close to coming and it shows from the way he's whining over you, head bent back, eyes closed, totally living in the moment.

Another finger gets added into your cunt as Gerard keeps sucking on your clit, and in the back of your foggy mind you're starting to think he's building you up for an orgasm so you and Frank can cum at the same time. Gosh, that'd be so hot, wouldn't it? Without further need to think a moan slips out and Frank definitely felt it to his balls.

"Nghn~ Fuuuuck, if you keep moaning over my cock like that I'm going to paint your lungs white. And you better swallow when I do, hmm sweetie." He grunts out as he looks back down at your helpless body, being feasted at and taken advantage of, so fucking gladly.

The clouds in your head are starting to very slowly go back to where they came from, and the feeling of Gerard's fingers curling deep inside you feels better than ever, and if you could you would ride his fingers. 

Frank all of a sudden pulls out of your mouth and a moment later the silky white stripes of his cum decorates your face and mouth. He moans loudly when he cums, and it could be in porn because fuck, you'd love to hear it again and again.

His fingers collect all of his seed and he helps all of it into your mouth.

"Swallow it. Be a good girl and swallow all of it. Gee, how are things down there? Is she ready to take us?" You do as Frank suggests and swallow all of it despite the weird taste and interesting texture. You find yourself giving in more as you go.

Gerard pulls out his fingers from your core and stands up, leaving you bare.

"I think she's ready; help me move her?"

"You got it!"

Frank takes you by the armpits and Gerard grabs your legs, they position you on the couch so you're actually lying down on it, and it's a pretty comfortable position, but you can't see a lot, only the ceiling and the roundabouts of everything.

Then Gerard's pretty face comes into view, so he's above you? Thankfully, the man takes a pillow and puts it under your head making the position even more comfortable and this way you can see what's going on.

Your assumption on Gerard's position was right and he's above you, caging you in softly. He also undressed completely and you just notice how close he is to your wet hole that's still pumping from the need of Gerard's fingers. Frank however, he's just standing by, dick in his hand, watching.

"What are you doing?" You ask again, as he slowly pushes open your thighs wider.

"What do you think, sugar? I'm going to fuck you. Don't worry, I'll go soft on you for the first round. I don't know about Frank on the other hand, he's quite the animal."

He positioned his hardening up to you and without leaving you time for thinking, sunk in. Slowly but he made it in, it felt bad, it hurt and it was like he was in your guts. If you could've moved you would've, but you can't, and that's the worst of it.

So far it wouldn't have been too bad, and you made up your mind about it, however this is like your nightmare coming true. The sting between your thighs was very uncomfortable and the way he was stretching you didn't feel pleasurable at all.

"No- I didn't want this, why would you… No, please don't. Let me go, I don't want this anymore." You were on the verge of tears but it seems like they didn't really care for that. You tried to move but all you could do was move your head and hands a little bit. The tears were now on their way down on your face.

"Shh, sugar, just give it a minute I promise it won't be as bad as it is now." He wiped your tears away as new ones formed but the words didn't comfort you, not anymore. This was it. You lost your virginity by getting raped.

Gerard didn't move for a few seconds, and you almost thought he regretted it, but then he started moving in and out, ripping open your insides. It was very uncomfortable and it hurt a lot too, and you were almost a hundred percent sure that there was blood too.

You wished you could scream, but the tears clogged your throat and the shock and pain kept your still foggy mind out of place. You tried to let him do it so it would end sooner. His soft whimpers were reminders that he was enjoying this, that he knew what he was doing and that made him feel good.

It was disgusting already but it only registered now how they were using you. Blood ran down your thighs as he stretched out your no longer virgin pussy. With each thrust it hurt less but it was still painful and nothing of pleasure like before, the feeling of his dick brushing against so deeply inside you wasn't good, nothing like anybody told you.

Frank was just watching the two of you, and you couldn't help but try and beg him to stop Gerard with your eyes, since you knew trying to actually beg audibly wouldn't help; but he wasn't looking at your face. No, he was too mesmerized by the way Gerard took advantage of you, and he also liked the scene playing out before him.

It made you nauseous to even think about it, nonetheless live it. It was an out of body experience and your mind was still fuzzy but the pure hatred and disgust was evidently there.

There was no way out of here and you all knew it. All of a sudden Gerard stops and pulls out, and it's like you've been spared from death row, you finally let out all of the air inside your lungs you didn't even know you kept in there. However with a grunt he came onto you; your stomach now kept hydrated by his semen.

Without a single word he stood up from you and walked to the pile where his clothes were, 'Is this it? Is it finally over?'.

"Oh sweetie don't look relieved, I hadn't had my turn yet and I've been aching to sink into your freshly tore hole. Gosh, I'm sure you're still fuckin' tight." Frank interrupted your somewhat peaceful moment with the vulgar comment that answered your earlier questions.

You were sure this was hell, made specifically for you, making all your nightmares true.

Next thing you know is that Frank is leaning over you, one hand near your face, the other lining up his hard cock to your bleeding opening. Once he got the tip in his hand held onto your hip. He thrusted into you without mercy, it hurt even more than Gerard taking your virginity and you were unsure how that was even possible but here you were, with all of that pain, very real and true.

"Fuuuuck~ Sweetie, you're even better than I thought you'd be. Ngh- you feel so nice around me, ahh~ and the way you clench around me, I don't think one round will calm me, darling." His pace matched the way he moaned and whimpered, hard and ruthless; loud and nonstop.

The way his hand on your hip gripped your skin so he could draw in and out with that roughness; everything hurt, both the way he gripped your hip and the way he fucked you into shredded meat. Or- well, that was what it felt like.

Your body betrayed you though, your insides were getting tighter and tighter and you knew what this meant; your soft gasps also a confirmation about something you weren't ready to accept.

"Mm- dammit Y/N, if you're going to cling to me like that I won't be able to last any longer. I know, deep down you actually enjoy this. Your body says enough for me to pick up on; you like it rough, hm sweetie?"

"If- if I had the energy, I'd spit- ngh~ into your face r-right now." You sputtered out between gritted teeth from withholding your soft whimpers and from the pain still lingering there, right between your legs.

"Where did all of that feistiness come from? Do you want me to-" Thrust. "fuck you harder," Thrust. "or what?" Thrust.

Damn him for being like this, because let it be from the fuzz still in your mind, his good looks or the fact that it wasn't so bad anymore; but you let a moan slip free by accident, and the smug smirk he gave you afterwards made you both throw up and swoon over.

He leaned down to kiss your lips, which you didn't reciprocate, nor did you even react in any way. So he moved the sloppy kisses down to your neck where he was so eager to find a spot that would get a reaction out of you, which didn't take long because he knew where to try.

The space under your ear was soft and he nibbled on it which made you whine in addition, it was a sad fact that even though you were not okay with what was happening, he made it feel good. It made you even angrier when he kept sucking on that sweet spot perfectly.

"Agh- fuck you! I know wh- what you're doing, and it- mhm makes me sick." The battle between your small moans and the insult was hard to bear, but you got it out without sounding too pathetic.

His thrusts were not faltering they kept up the pace and somehow the pain went away without you noticing, however what you did notice was the way how the coil in your stomach was burning to get it's release since you've been holding it back, but you don't want to give him that ego boost or satisfaction. God's sake for actually making this somewhat pleasurable after some torturous minutes.

With his soft nibbles on your neck too- it was way too much pleasure to hold all of it back, and with the rest of your dignity you let go of the hold on your stomach and walls, to come undone over his brutally penetrating dick. An actual moan leaves your mouth with it as you let the pleasure take over you as he kept going inside you and making the waves of your cum last longer.

"Shiiiiit- Did you just? Ah~ oh my God…" He quickly pulls out after a long moan and spurts onto your stomach too, mixing his and Gee's cum on your skin.

He kisses down your breasts to then continue to your cum covered stomach, which he lickes up a long stripe on. His tongue coated in his own and his band mate's seed, which he seems giddy about as he swallows the mixture of sperm.

~~^^~~

Years have passed from that night, which you never told anybody of. Why? There are two reasons, they were right; you did end up touching yourself to the memory of the bittersweet event. And secondly because they became famous, without a trace of shame on their bits; no one knew that the singer and the rhythm guitarist liked to share underage girls.

[sxneie]

more rory thingsss

a/n: rory x femreader obv, but i just watched fd2 again and realized rory has a wrist tattoo... yeah he needs to destroy me!!

cw: mention of smoking/drugs

he loves having late night drives together. you relax as you feel the cool breeze of the night air against your face and warmth of his hand softly squeezing your thigh. you enjoy the sight of him on top of you so much. he moans directly into your ear, he’s constantly pushing his hair back, cross-chain dangling in you face, his breath mingling with yours.. yeah, something you can never forget.  will kiss you RIGHT after you’ve sucked him off.  (i always think about that elevator scene so) i definitely think he’d wet his own fingers just to shove them in your mouth. loves when you do anything with his hair, run your hands through it, loop your fingers through his curls, gripping it when he fucks you hard. yeah, he loves every bit of it.  got a heart tattoo of your initials. it sits right at the base of his hip so you can see when you ever you want to suck him. and it’s so slutty when he stretches out and you can it peeking just above the waistband of his boxers. 

will let you do makeup on him, for practice or fun. (alot of the time he asks)  SNORES. he’ll literally snore so loudly in your face, and when you’ve both woken up from the problem, he has the nerve to look at you with sleepy eyes and disheveled hair and say— “what’s wrong?”  when your on your period he does every thing to make you feel comfortable, but sometimes he’s a little reckless. like once you asked him to go to the store to bring you more pads and medicines, and he came back with all your favorite chocolates and tampons too light... you were aggravated at him for like 30 minutes. he sat like a kicked puppy. will jump and scream while you watch scary movies, and will cry if you watch sad movies. 

is genuinely the sweetest person ever. you once saw him petting a stranded kitty in an alleyway, talking to it and give it treats. you just silently watched him since it was such a sight. when he caught you looking at him he tried to throw the snacks somewhere like they weren’t his, but he couldn’t even hide it when the kitty ran after the treats and he ran after the kitty.  loves when you two smoke together. he gets severely clingy and horny every time, but you do to so it always works out! does not play with jealousy. say for example a guy tries to flirt with you right in front of his face, even as you were already on your way to rejecting him, rory lifts your shirt up slightly and starts making out with your neck and the side of your jaw, and will say something like-- “come on, i want you sit on my face again like you did before we got here.” 

you and the guy both make an shocked face as rory just told a stranger about one of your sexcapades. as the guy walks away rory stares at him and him hands are still wrapped around your waist. but you yank them off and throw an aggravated look at him.  “wait, no, don’t be mad! you know you sat on my face yesterday, not today!!” he says chasing you as leave out the store and walk back to his car.  but later on he apologized and fucked you till you forgot about it, then made you bowl of your favorite ice cream. god, he’s such mess but you love him.

[sos-gone-deeper]

I Could Be A Good Mother (Travis Martinez x Reader) (Part 2)

Your confidant is working hard to make sure you and the baby are doing okay. But the girls can see that something is up, and the truth will always come out.

Part 1 | Part 3

Notes:

- Fem!reader

- Talk of abortion (but not really in this chapter), pregnancy, etc.

- Javi doesn't run away, nor does he die

- Takes place during the first winter

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

That night, Travis was tossing and turning in his makeshift bed. He just couldn't get you off his mind. When he finally did sleep, he dreamt of something he never thought he would.

There he was, in a big, warm house. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner, while he held a baby that looked almost identical to you. Music was playing, you were dancing, the baby was laughing, and Travis was simply admiring. There was no plane crash, no scars, no pain. It was a glimpse into the life that could've been.

He woke up from it slowly, trying as hard as he could to hold onto it. He found himself pretty shocked. Whether it was your confession, or his infatuation with you, or both, he had never dreamt of you before, especially in such a teeth rotting-ly sweet way.

Nat was sound asleep across from him, but before he woke her up for their hunting expedition, he crept over to your spot in between Akilah and Lottie. You were sound asleep, wearing a beat up hoodie, and your nose was red at the tip where the winter cold was getting to it. He vaguely worried about you getting frostbite.

"Travis?" Natalie's raspy voice said from across the room.

"Hey." He said, walking to the clothes pile and grabbing a coat. "Hunting time."

"It's still really dark out." Nat said. She fumbled for her watch. 5:00 am. Normally they didn't leave until 7, the earliest.

"Well, we gotta find something. We can't just starve in here."

Travis was already on the porch, suited up, loading his gun when Natalie came out, still tugging her coat on.

"Seriously, Travis, what's with you?" When he didn't respond, Natalie grabbed his arm, making him look at her.

"We have like 20 people in there, starving, or pregnant, or both, fucking withering away." He spat out. Nat flinched back, confused on why he was suddenly so worried. "And I'm not gonna let them die because I can't find a damn deer while being in the middle of the woods."

"Fine," Nat said, "Then let's go."

You stirred around the same time as most of the girls. The weather had really gotten to you all, almost everyone rousing when it has already been bright out for at least an hour.

You were immediately looking for Travis, before remembering that he and Nat woke up earlier to go out hunting. You had no clue how long they'd been gone at all, but they normally arrived back as the sun was mostly up.

You changed your hoodie, facing away from everyone so your small but still protruding stomach wasn't in sight. Javi walked past you, grabbing a knife to do some carving, a hobby he'd picked up when the pad of paper you'd given him and Shauna's extra notebook had run out.

"Morning." You said to him, ruffling his bed head.

"Good morning." He replied, assuming his place in front of the fire.

A figure moving past the window prompted you to toss on a coat and step outside. There, slung over Travis and Natalie's shoulders, was a deer. You almost burst into tears then and there, desperate to eat something other than Mari's belt soup.

"Good morning, breakfast is served." Travis proudly said, gesturing to the deer in front of them. Nat looked very confused, but said nothing.

After Shauna had properly butchered it and cooked it over the fire, everyone started to get their portion. Travis stood watch, making sure everyone would have a decent amount.

"What the fuck?" Mari exclaimed, watching you pile food onto a cracked and old plate. "Save some for the rest of us, maybe?"

"You already got your food, Mari." Travis said, standing up taller. Mari looked down at her plate in silence.

"Oh, since when do you give a fuck about food portions, Travis? You got a big deer, so why are you acting like it's not enough? What's going on?" Melissa added, crossing her arms.

Travis looked at you. He knew he couldn't say it, but he was hoping you would.

And you did.

"I'm pregnant."

Everyone stared. Not even Misty was happy the way she was when Shauna announced her pregnancy. You heard Coach Ben let out a sigh.

"No you're not!" Mari said. "You're just saying that so you can get more food! We're all hungry, I get it, but don't lie to us."

"I'm not." You said, feeling yourself start to tear up. Travis was looking at you, eyes full of worry. "I just- I didn't want to cause problems. And then Shauna told you guys, and... I-I just didn't want to upset anyone."

"What the fuck, Y/N." Natalie said. She looked accusingly at Travis. "Did you know about this? Is this why you dragged me out this morning?"

"You know what? Maybe it is." Travis' voice boomed over the girls. "No one said shit to Shauna, even thought it's her best friends boyfriend baby. I mean really, but now it's a problem? Do you think Y/N wants a baby in this mess?"

No one responded. You found yourself staring at the ground.

"Exactly. So suck it up." Travis pivoted to Natalie. "And fine. Don't come out with me anymore. I can hunt alone."

The food was eaten in silence. Travis was on one side of you, afraid the girls would steal off your plate, and Javi on the other side, silent over your confession.

"Boy or girl?" He finally piped up.

"What?" You asked, mouth full of meat.

"Do you know? If it's a boy or girl?"

"I wish." You admitted, smiling slightly. "I don't know, but I hope it's a girl."

"I hope it's a boy." Javi said. Travis leaned over and nudged his knee almost scoldingly.

"What?" Javi squeaked out. "It would be like having a little brother."

"Yeah, I guess it would be." You said, smiling at Travis. He always felt annoyed when Shauna talked about her baby, but now that it was you doing it, he had the overwhelming urge to wrap you up and take you away from this fucking cabin.

As Travis ate, he found himself picturing the baby. You wanted a girl? Fine, he was already imagining a smiling little girl with her mom's eyes beaming up from his arms.

You were right when you assumed no one would give you the same attention as Shauna. You didn't get a baby shower, and you didn't get doted on by the girls, asking how you were or if you needed anything.

In the fall, this would've freaked you out. But now, with Travis, you felt okay. You felt like as long as you had him on your side, you'd be fine. He was certainly pulling his weight, waking up early to get you food, giving you his extra clothes to keep warm at night, and taking it upon himself to move your bed closer to the fire. You'd never felt so appreciated before, silently wishing Travis could be the father instead of fuckface back home, who was probably already moved onto another girl.

But it wasn't like the girls were entirely shunning you. As you trekked back to the cabin with Van, both of you assigned to dumping the shit bucket and the guts from the past few deer, Van suddenly stopped.

"You okay?" You asked, setting your bucket down.

"I'm fine. I just- before we get back. I have to talk to you."

Fuck.

"What's up?" You said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You knew you shouldn't be afraid. You and Van had been pretty close before the crash, but now she was wrapped up in Taissa.

"You know, everyone's only being nice to Shauna because of Jackie." You flinched at the name. Oh, how you missed your team captain. You knew she would've understood.

"Oh." You whispered, not knowing what to say.

"And we don't hate you. Or at least, I don't hate you. It's just scary."

A scoff slipped past your lips. "How do you think I've been feeling? The only person I could tell was Travis."

"Yeah, what's going on with that?" Van said, dropping her bucket too. "Is he the father, or something?"

"No," You said quickly. "It's Andrew. You know, from back home." (I just made up a name for your boyfriend so let's all roll with it)

"Well, damn." Van said. "How did he feel?"

"He was pissed. Didn't even ask how I am or how I feel." You found yourself opening up to the scarred redhead in front of you.

"Well, you have me. And Travis, clearly. And Javi."

You giggled, thinking of Javi making the doll for Shauna. What a sweet boy. "Yeah, bless his heart."

"Let's get back." Van said, picking up both of the buckets.

When you got back, you were shivering from the cold winter air and exhausted from the walk to the cliff. Travis pulled a blanket over you, the two of you being the only ones in the attic. You wanted a nap, a quiet one.

"I talked to Van today." You said. Travis sat down next to you.

"Oh yeah? About what?"

"Just everything." You found yourself already fighting sleep, eyes feeling heavy. "She said no one's mad at me. That they're just being sweet to Shauna because of Jackie."

Travis scoffed. "Yeah, but you're both in the same boat right now. It wouldn't kill them to be nice to you."

Silence enveloped the two of you, only broken by the girls' chatter downstairs and the creak of the cabin doors. You closed your eyes, but Travis must've assumed you had them closed longer. He went to stand, but while on his knees he said, "Goodnight, Y/N".

You were going to mumble back a response, but before you could, Travis pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

As he creaked his way down the attic steps, you smiled to yourself, feeling the warmest you had in weeks.

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I've been cooking these up at lightning speed, not sure what's possessing me to do so. But I hope you guys enjoy!!