#bUT AT LEAST THE ONE THING SHE KNEW WAS THAT SHE DOESN'T HATE HIM

[dadbodbuck]

could it shine down here with you?

Rating: G | WC: 1.7k | Pairing: BuckTommy

Loosely based on this post by @loulovingho!

Summary:

Tommy doesn't realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

Read it here on Ao3 or continue below!

Tommy is five, or maybe six, and he doesn’t like Thanksgiving. His dad is screaming at his mom because the turkey isn’t thawed. He’s calling her a lot of words that Tommy thinks are really mean. Tommy’s dad yells a lot, but it’s rarely this bad. Tommy’s mom usually waits for it to blow over, but this time, Tommy watches from the living room entry as her face crumbles and she shoulders past Tommy’s dad, breezes by Tommy, and flees into their bedroom.

Tommy wants to follow her, but his dad grabs his arm, too-tight, and tugs Tommy away towards where the half-thawed turkey is laying on the ground, cold and slimy. When they get there, Tommy’s dad hands him a garbage bag and a roll of paper towels and says “Your mom needs some time alone to think about what she’s done. Clean up this mess.”

It’s okay, because later his mom comes out of the bedroom and kneels down, her eyes red and puffy, and she tells him, “I’m so sorry you had to see that, honey. You did a good job cleaning the kitchen. It’s okay, we can still have dinner, even if I messed up the turkey,” and she makes Stovetop stuffing, and takes cranberry sauce out of a can, dishing them up on a plastic plate for Tommy, and a glass plate for her.

Tommy’s not sure where his dad went, but he’s glad it’s just him and his mom for a little while.

Tommy is twelve, and he hates Thanksgiving. He hates most holidays centered around football, actually. It’s a double-edged sword—his dad gets drunk, and his dad gets riled up, and he’s either too loud and happy, or too loud and mad. The Superbowl is Tommy’s least favorite time of the year. Especially when the Rams are playing.

The Rams aren’t playing this year, but that doesn’t mean Tommy’s off the hook. Tommy brings his dad beers when his dad calls for them, doesn’t say a word to his old man, carefully doesn’t flinch when his dad yells angrily at the screen.

For the most part, Tommy sits alone in his room and looks at the picture of his mom. It’s her high school graduation, she’s gleaming in her cap and gown. Tommy misses her.

Tommy knows that his family isn’t normal. That it’s fucked up. But he also knows how to deal with his dad, especially now that his mom isn’t around to instigate anymore. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen if he gets sent to foster care. He doesn’t want to know.

Tommy also knows, somewhere, that it’s partially his own fault. Maybe if he was a better kid—someone his dad could be proud of, this wouldn’t happen. He was always doing something to incur his father’s wrath. Plus, it’s not like his dad doesn’t love him, in his own way. Tommy loves his dad, too.

Tommy makes his own Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce from a can. His dad doesn’t eat it, but Tommy doesn’t care, because at least he survived Thanksgiving without any more bruises.

Tommy is eighteen, and twenty-three, and thirty-one. Thanksgiving is in a shitty barracks at the base, a tiny studio in downtown LA, and the 118 firehouse. It’s spent wolfing down an MRE, trying to figure out how to get his horrible stove to work, and eating Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce and praying that the alarm doesn’t go off. There are the other soldiers, and Tommy’s rescue cat Teddy, and Howie.

The MRE is as it always is. You get used to the weird textures and instant coffee and chemical heat smell of the food warmer. The funny thing about Iraq, the thing that will keep Tommy awake for years and years, is that it gets cold during the winter. Tommy knew before he shipped out that he didn’t know what much about the country, but now that he’s here, he’s stuck with sick realization after sick realization. The people here are scared, and the Army isn’t helping. Tommy looks at the other soldiers in a way he shouldn’t. Civilians are dying. War is messy in a way that allows people to excuse inexcusable violence. Tommy cannot speak the language, of either the Iraqi citizens or the people he was told would be his brothers. Iraq gets cold during the winter.

Teddy is an orange beauty, with long fluffy fur and a penchant for mischief. Tommy didn’t ask for Thanksgiving off, but it’s a holiday at the Academy, apparently. So, he’s here, listening to the click of the gas range as it tries to light. Teddy watches from the tiny countertop with uncharacteristic judgment in his eyes. When the flame finally catches, Tommy laughs victoriously, and gets to work making stuffing and cranberry sauce for the first time in years. It’s not gourmet by any means, just the Stovetop and the canned stuff, but it feels like his mom. It feels like he’s talking to her again. Tommy wonders if there’s a universe out there where his mom got help before it was too late. He eats his food in the camp chair that furnishes his pathetic living room, with Teddy invading his personal space and trying to sneak a bite for himself.

Tommy keeps the tradition of making himself Stovetop and canned cranberry sauce. He keeps it the year Howie shows up at the 118 and immediately proves himself braver and stronger than Tommy ever could be. While everyone else is busy whining about missing their grandma’s mashed potatoes, Tommy scrapes together his sacred traditional Thanksgiving feast. While Tommy’s not looking, Howie steals half of it.

“Mm!” Howie sighs, “That childhood nostalgia fakeness.”

“Hey! That was mine,” Tommy says, without any real heat. He hasn’t been able to muster anything beyond mild irritation for Howie since he saved his life.

“Oh, because you were going to eat all of that in one sitting,” Howie scoffs, “I’ll pay you back your dollar for my half if you really want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tommy huffs, scraping out the other half for his own portion. They sit at the table and eat together, and it’s the closest Tommy’s ever had to spending Thanksgiving with someone.

It’s not until they finish eating and the bell rings that Tommy realizes Howie’s the only one who hasn’t asked Tommy if he’s sad he’s missing out on the holidays.

For the most part, his Thanksgivings after the 118 are spent much the same way, but at Harbor, and alone. He gets to put his leftovers in the fridge and eat off them for a few days. Thanksgiving (save for deep fried turkey incidents) is a relatively tame holiday. No fireworks, at least.

Then, Evan.

A lot of things change for Tommy when Evan crashes into his life, all legs and a blinding smile. Evan is a whirlwind and the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen. Evan is kind of everything.

When Tommy realizes he’s falling in love, it makes him sick to his stomach. He remembers loving his dad enough to excuse his anger, loving his mom enough to let her slip away, loving a country enough to enact its violence, loving the sense of belonging at the 118 enough to allow the kindest people he’s ever met to suffer. Tommy doesn’t love right. He can’t let Evan get tired of him and leave. He can’t poison Evan until he turns into something cruel. So Tommy breaks up with him. Evan asks him to move in, and he can feel the iron jaws of a bear trap closing around his throat, so he breaks up with him.

Tommy doesn’t realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

(Thanksgiving came up between them for the first time when Evan asked if he wanted to do their own thing or go over to the grand 118 Thanksgiving Feast.

“I don’t know,” Evan has shrugged, “I mean, I want to spend it with you. I don’t want to pressure you into a big thing if you don’t want to, or if—if you’re used to smaller Thanksgivings. What does your family do for Thanksgiving?”

“Um,” Tommy had said, a little caught off-guard like he was every time they brushed up against the topic of family, “We didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. I usually just get a box of Stovetop stuffing and a can of cranberry sauce and call it a day.”

Evan had scoffed, mock-offended. “Well! In that case, we’re going. Mark your calendar. You’re going to cream your pants when you try Bobby’s turkey.”

Tommy had smiled and thought maybe. Maybe this will be the year.)

Tommy sighs and opens the box of Stovetop stuffing. His water and butter are already boiling, so he pours the mix in and watches it saturate. He stirs it and takes it off the heat to sit. A strange, painful sadness claws at the inside of his throat. It hurts. It hurts worse than it usually does.

He doesn’t think about Evan and Bobby’s allegedly orgasm-worthy turkey and Howie introducing Tommy to Jee-yun and how close they had all seemed at the hospital for Denny. He walks over to the mantle above his fireplace, with a small, framed pawprint inside, and Teddy 2021 written underneath.

Five minutes passes slowly without anyone to distract him. Tommy tries and fails not to think about every holiday he’s spent alone, or wishing he was alone. This is the first holiday he’s wished for someone in particular who wasn’t his mom or Teddy.

Tommy eats stuffing and canned cranberry sauce at his kitchen table. Somewhere, Evan is in a house warm with love. Somewhere, Evan is loved, wholly and unconditionally. Tommy’s glad people love him. He deserves to be loved.

Tommy doesn’t like watching football on Thanksgiving, so instead he puts on Mean Girls. After his stomach settles, he’s too tired to do anything but crawl into bed and sleep until his shift in the morning.

When Tommy gets to work, he’s surprised when Lucy says, “Delivery for you in the fridge, Kinard, you better eat it before I can get my hands on it.”

Inside the fridge is a glass Tupperware container wrapped in a plastic Chinese takeout bag. There’s a sticky note attached to it that says Bobby’s turkey is even better the next day.

Tommy texts Evan and asks about it. Evan doesn’t say anything back.

But he does get a text from Howie, and the timing is too quick to be coincidence. When you’re reheating it, remember to put half a teaspoon of water in the dish so it doesn’t dry everything out in the microwave.

[gojos-version]

Consume me.

Pairings- Y/N x Mafia Au! Sukuna

Summary- You're the daughter of a famous mafia boss and your dad wants to cooperate with Sukuna and make a deal, you hate Sukuna. You’re about to make his life a living hell.

Warnings- y/n being bratty and a bad bitch, brat taming, unprotected sex, breeding, tummy bulge (per usual), masturbation, blood and death mentioned (not in detail or much)

Word count- 8k

Proof read- ✅

A/n- Omg this took me so long because ive been so busy and i knew it was gonna be such a long fic, but i hope this tickles your pickle :3 Have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

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Sukuna. That name brought fear to many people. He was a well-known Mafia boss, he lived by his rules, he didn't like something? It was fixed immediately. He doesn't like someone, or someone messes up? They’re dead. He’s a very fierce man and its risky that even right now your father wants to make a deal with him, to get more respect he says. 

Sukuna was the one person you had the least respect for, he was cruel and heartless, and you'd prefer to avoid him at all costs if you could. His face was covered in tattoos and so was the rest of his body, he had piercings and honestly he was intimidating. But… he also made you feel things you shouldn’t be feeling. Maybe it was the way he carried himself that you found attractive? You weren’t sure but you hate him. Your dad was a big mafia boss but not as big as Sukuna, his business was huge.

Knock knock.

Your head perks up from your book; “Yes?”, your dad’s assistant opens the door; “Your father requests to speak with you.”, “Alright I’ll be down.” With that she nods her head and closes the door. You sigh and twist your body to slide off your bed, slipping your slippers on you open the door and walk down the stairs to your dad’s office. You knock on the door and he shouts a ‘Come in!’ And you do, when you open the door you did not except to see a tall man with pink hair, tattoos and in a black suit sitting in front of your dad.

Sukuna?? Why the fuck was he here. Your heart drops and you swallow thickly, he shoots you a smirk that makes your blood boils. “What is it that you wanted, father?”, “Take a seat, I want to talk to you about a few things. Including our guest, don’t be rude, Y/n.”, “I don’t see why we have to discuss things in front of our guest. Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You cross your arms, leaning back on the door. “Oh don’t mind me.” Sukunas deep voice rings out and you glare at him, “Who said you were apart of this conversation?”, “Ohhoho! Quite the mouth on you!” He laughs, leaning back in his chair and your dad’s expression becomes stern, “Y/n. What did I say.”, your eye twitches with annoyance and you scoff; “I’d rather talk in private, dad.”

Your dad sighs in annoyance and Sukuna grins, laying back more in his chair. “Like I said, don’t mind me sweetheart.” You huff, “Let me guess, we’re working with Sukuna now?”, “Yes, so I hope you’ll be nice a- “, “Greatttttt!” You say with fake enthusiasm, and you see Sukuna's jaw clench. Ha. Y/n 1 Sukuna 0. You turn to walk out and freeze feeling a strong presence behind you and a large hand on your shoulder, “Listen brat, you don’t want to piss me off. If you keep provoking me, I can and I will destroy your father’s corporation. You don’t want that now do you?”, Sukuna's deep voice whispers into your ear and you shiver.

“Of course you would, you have no heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a robot. You wouldn’t do shit to us.” You sneered back, yeah it was risky but how dare a man try to speak you down and threaten you? Excuse him?? Sukuna chuckles darkly, “A robot huh? Li- “, “Y/n apologize to our guest right now.” Your dad cuts Sukuna off (without knowing what he was saying), saying nothing you shrug off Sukuna's shoulder and open the door, shutting it harshly behind you and going back to your room.

You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling and sighing softly. You really hope Sukuna isn’t around much. You were hoping to avoid him as much as possible, any interaction with him made your blood boil and your thighs squish together. You hated him and you hated how he made your body tingle. You hated how turned on you got by his stupid face and how curious you were of him. You wanted more, you wanted to know more, why was he stoic? What’s really under that tough demeanor? That heartless man. Why was he heartless? You ached to know more but you couldn’t fucking stand him. You really didn’t like him. No matter what your body felt you really really didn’t like him.

Ding!

A text message? From who?

Dad <3 - Y/n, Sukuna will be around a lot, so you better behave and be nice. He’s doing good for us, I expect to hear that you apologized before tonight, no arguments.

You grunt and close your phone, turning to your side. Maybe you’ll go out tonight. Yeah. That's a good idea. You send a message to your group chat asking to hang out at a bar and before you know it they reply with a “Let’s get shitfaced girls!”, you chuckle and slide off your bed; to your wardrobe. You could be sexy, slutty or modest. You hum to yourself; it wouldn’t hurt to be a mix of sexy and slutty tonight. It’d be nice to get laid; especially after today. You decide on a dark red dress, it stopped mid-thigh and showed just the right amount of cleavage and hugged your curves juustt right. You slip on a black leather jacket, tights and black boots, opting for a red bag to balance it out. You do your hair and makeup and smile at the mirror. You felt good. You looked good.

As you open the door and walk down the steps you did not expect Sukuna to still be here. At the dining table??? You try to sneak past them; hoping they wouldn’t notice you. “And where might you be going?” A dark voice rings out. That annoying deep voice. That belonged to that stupid pink haired man with tattoos. “It’s none of your business I’m afraid.” You reply coolly, “Y/n. I told you to be nice.” Your dad scolds, “Dad, I’m going out.” Your dad glares at you and you simply walk off, tired of the conversation; you ignore the loud shouts of your name and sigh as you walk out the door. You drag your feet into your car, telling your driver where to take you.

You swallow thickly and bundle your skirt into your clenched hands, sighing in frustration. You pick your phone up to see your best friend; Shoko calling you. "Shoko! Hey girl.", "Y/n how far are you?? Please, Satoru's annoying me." She whines into the phone, and you bark out a laugh; "I just left. Dad was being difficult. I should be there very soon." You reassure her and she grumbles a 'Hurry up before I kill him' before hanging up.

You smile in contentment lean your head against the window; looking out in the distance while your driver takes you to the bar. You honestly thought it'd be just the 'girls' but it seems Satoru and Suguru weaved their way into yours, Shoko and Utahime's plans. more company the better honestly.

Before you know it, the cars stopped Infront of the club; "Miss do you want me to escort you?", your driver asks and you shake your head; "It's alright, I'll message you if I need anything and when I want to be picked up." Thats the last thing you say before sliding out of the car and feeling the cool air kiss your warm skin.

Ouch the weather wasn't as nice as you thought it was. You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk into the club, instantly the smell of sweat, lust and alcohol fill your senses. Yeah, you're definitely going to need a drink. As you walk towards the bar you instantly spot Shoko, Utahime and Satoru drunk off their minds dancing around and Suguru sitting on the bar and drinking.

"Long time no see." You greet sitting next to him, "You finally made it. These idiots got drunk so quickly.", "I can tell. How have you been though, Suguru?" You say as you order a drink, leaning your back against the counter and crossing a leg over the other having your elbows resting on the counter behind you.

"Not too bad, it's been hectic because works been stressful.", "Thats rough, work sucks." You sympathize; "How about you? Any life updates?" He asks laughing softly at the others dancing their asses off. Man, it was going to be a long night. "Terrible. My dad made a deal with Sukuna and for some reason he's around my house. a lot.", Suguru almost spits out his drink in surprise, "Shit what!? You're kidding.", "I wish I was. doesn't help he keeps talking to me too." You sip your drink, frowning at the memory.

"Doesn't... Sukuna like not talk to his client's kids or anything? Doesn't he just keep it strict and just talk to let's say just your dad in this situation. Usually, he stays at his own abode too." He ponders and your blood runs cold. wait. he's right. "Wait why would he be interested in me...? How the fuck do I get out of this mess? Shit Suguru what do I do." You panic and scull your drink.

"Don't worry, I think it's a good thing he's taken a liking to you. if he didn't, he'd probably would've killed you already." He reassures you and sigh. "I don't even want to be involved with him." Suguru nods his head in understanding, before he could respond though a drunk Shoko and Satoru run over to you; having finally noticed your arrival.

"You're here!!! Girl, I've missed you!!" Shoko exclaims, a bit too loudly for your liking and throws her arms around you; practically sitting on your lap. "Y/N!! Hi!!!!!!" Well. that makes both Satoru and Shoko smothering you. "Hey guys, kind of can't breathe right now with both of you squishing me." You laugh out but nevertheless hug them back.

"What tookkk you sooo loonnggg!" Satoru slurs out taking his drink from before and sculling the entire thing. "Girl shit." You respond, "You do not need to drink more." Suguru scolds taking the now empty glass away from him and Satoru pouts and complains in response.

"Giirrrllll any new news???? Any dick you're getting???" Shoko slurs in your ear; still over you. "I'll tell you when you're sober, girl", "NO tell me noooowwwwww", you sigh knowing she won't give up. "Dad made a deal with Sukuna." as soon as those words left your mouth she jumps back in shock and falls on the ground.

"Are you ok-", "NO WAY THE SUKUNA???", "Shhhh!!!" Thank God everyone was too drunk to give a shit. You help her up and drown another drink. you really want to get shitfaced tonight.

Few drinks later <3

You don't know when you started dancing with a random guy. you don't know who he is or what his name is. all you know is everything's blurry and dizzy and you're having the best time of your life. Your arms wrap around his neck and your lips are a bit too close to his. He slurs something drunkenly and you faintly make out the words must've been a 'you're so beautiful'. Your lips unconsciously lean towards his, both of you breathing heavily against each other. Before he can lean in and take your lips on his, a loud bang! fills your ears. wait. Where did his head go?

You look down at your clothes and they're covered in... blood...? What...? You freeze as everyone around you starts screaming and running out of the club, the guys now limp headless body falls at your feet, and you don't know how to react. when it all processes you feel adrenaline rush through your veins.

Where are your friends? You shakily walk towards the exit and see a familiar pink hair, tattooed tall man. Wait a minute... is that...? You blink a few times and he's gone. "Y/n!! Are you okay??" You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder, you turn to him and see Shoko and Satoru hanging off him, Utahime was hanging off of Shoko.

You wordlessly nod your head and your drivers here? Didn't you say you'd text him when you're ready?? You open the door and motion for Suguru to put the others in the car, you help him put your friends in the backseats. You sit in the front seat next to your driver; "I didn't tell you to pick me up. But please take my friends to their houses." You manage to utter out.

He nods and the car starts going on its journey. You can't stop thinking that murder had to have been from Sukuna. but why? Why would he murder the guy you were dancing with. Why did he even care?? A "Miss, drink some water to sober up." Cuts you out of your thoughts. It was hard to focus on everything with how much alcohol you took in. But you drank as much water as you could. After drinking your water, you head rests against the head rest, and you shut your eyes briefly.

Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You blearily blink your eyes open, trying to adjust to the sunlight pouring through your room. What time was it? How did you end up...in your bed...? Maybe your driver put you in your bed. You shrug it off and slowly sit up. Fuck your head hurt. You didn't have enough water in time. Your head was throbbing as you turned your head to look at your nightstand. Water and pain killers? I mean that's thoughtful, but no one really does that for you. then again you don't usually pass out in the car.

You took the painkillers and drank the water, putting your slippers on and robe as you slowly made your way towards the door. You just realized. someone was murdered in front of you yesterday. Wait when the fuck were you in your PJ's? And the blood from your face and body is gone??

Your heart races for a minute and you try to shrug it off as maybe you didn't remember getting changed or one of the female maids did it for you while you were sleeping. Right...? You open the door and slowly make your way down the steps towards the kitchen. Coffee. And water. Thats what you need right now. you fixed your hair and by the time you reached the bottom of the stairs; There was your dad and of course Sukuna. Sukuna. Why was he here?

"Mornin' Princess, Woke up late today, huh?" Ugh that stupid annoying deep voice. it fills your head, and you ignore him, walking past him and filling a cup of water, drowning it and filling it up again. "Y/n. I told you not to be ru-", "Nah its fine. She looks hungover.", "So that's where she went huh."

Come on brain. Remember. Right, Pink hair and tattoos and a dead guy. Yep. Common duo. "Sukuna, you did that last night, didn't you?" You deadpan, turning around and leaning your lower back against the counter, water in your hand, sipping and waiting for a response.

He looks shocked for a split second but covers it up quickly, "Oh? Where?" His head leans to the side giving you a look of 'I dare you to continue'. You smirk, walking closer to him. "The man you murdered at the club. Infront of me. What was that about, hm? Got jealous I gave someone else my attention and not you?" You dad stays silent, flabbergasted and oh Sukuna just glares at you.

"Why would I be jealous?", "You're not denying you murdered a guy at the club last night." You slam your hand down in front of him on the table and lean your face close to his, and your breasts right in his field of view. His eyes flicker from them to your face a few times, "You just happened to distract my target.", "Oh? I did a background check on the people at the club on my way there. He was a normal citizen." Your face gets closer to his and you're smirking, eyes narrowed as you egg him on.

Fuck does he look pissed off right now. But...there's another emotion you can see in his eyes, but you can't pinpoint it. Is it surprise? Intrigue? Lust? Who knows. You had him cornered both physically and mentally right now and he honestly had no option but to confess.

"Come on Ryomen. Give us the truth." You whisper in his ear, "You-" He seethes, and you cut him off by barking out a loud laugh, his hands were gripping the arm rests of his seat. How amusing. Without another word you trot off with a slight sway in your hips. You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head while you did walk off.

Time skip <3

You're laying on your bed listening to music while writing in your diary, ranting about Sukuna and other random things. It's 9pm before you know it. Maybe you'll just stay in tonight and have a self-care day. yeah. that sounds pretty good. you shut your diary and shove it under your pillow, going to the bathroom and running a bath.

You get your necessities and sit on the sink while the bath fills up. What you didn't know however was that Sukuna went in your room, wanting to give you a rough talking to; to find you not in your room. He hums and looks around, taking it in. your pillow messily placed catches his eyes and he lifts it to see your diary.

His brows furrow as he opens the book. 'Maybe she writes stories or draws? Why do I even care.' As he flicks through it, he sees his name written. hm? What's this? A smirk makes way on his face as he takes your diary and leaves your room, making sure everything was as you left it.

You sink into the bath you set and shut your eyes at the warm sensation. what should you do about him? There's no way he has to be over this much for a business deal. Maybe you're overthinking it too much. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, enjoying your soak in the bath. Hopefully tomorrow you'll be given a job to do.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open and it's still dark outside? You twist your body and slide off the bed, slipping your robe on and your slippers. 5:30am. Great. You walk towards the kitchen and notice someone…sitting? On the table with their feet up?? Who on earth was up at this time of night???? When you get a bit closer you notice the familiar pink hair and tattoos. Ugh. Why the hell was Sukuna here and awake at 5 in the damn morning. “Why are you here at 5 in the morning?” Your soft voice rings out making him look up from what he was reading. “Why are you up at 5 in the morning?” He sasses back and your eye twitches in frustration. “I live here, and you don’t. Why are you here at 5 in the morning, Sukuna.”, “Ouch back to Sukuna huh?” And oh, you wish you could wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face.

“Answer the question.” You say with a blank expression and sit across him. He sits forward and puts the book next to him, leaning his chin on his palm. Why did that book look so familiar? “Because your dad needs me, so I decided I’ll be staying here a while.”, “What book are you reading?” You ask, your heart rate picking up because it looked a lot like your handwriting. No wonder why your pillow felt too comfortable. He stands up and makes his way behind your seat, leaning next to your left ear. “You think I’m so hot, huh? You even want me to dick you down, yet you act like you hate me.” His hand snakes slowly around your neck, applying some pressure and you gasp. “You want me to choke your pretty throat huh?” His hand snakes up to your chin and his thumb strokes your cheek.

“That was private.” You grumble out, panting softly. “Oh? Yet you’re such a little fucking slut. Thought you could fool me hm?” Your hand snaps out and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. Still holding his wrist, you stand up and turn to face him, with your free hand you grip his face and mush his cheeks together. “You're too bold. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been watching me when you think I’m not watching. Or my used panties that have slowly been going missing. You’re not slick, Ryomen.” His eyes narrow and you laugh. “And you call me the slut. You’re the perv around here.”

He snarls and you walk away from him turning the coffee machine on. Your hands grip the counter when you feel his half hard cock push against your ass. “What are you- “, “Shut up. You’re such a fucking brat.” He pushes your head down and you grunt when your cheek makes contact with the cold counter. “C’mon doll you know you fuckin’ want me.” You smirk having an idea come into your head. Without saying anything you grind your ass against his clothed cock which is now hard and fuck you can feel how hard it is. You circle your hips, and he lets out a grunt in response.

You move your robe up exposing your now soaked panties, rubbing against his soaked pants for more friction. You wiggle your ass, teasing him. “Come on big boy. Do something, can’t leave a girl hanging now, can you?” You press harder against him and a breathy whimper escapes his lips. “You…” Fuck his voice sounds so raspy and you’re clenching around nothing. One of his hands shakily squeeze your ass and fuck right now you want him to fuck the living shit out of you. No. Y/n. You wanted him to be the one begging for you remember? You wanted him to be so down bad for you he’d go insane. Fuck this isn't good. You shiver slightly when your cunt makes a honeyed gush of wet arousal ruining your panties further. You feel his thick thumb run up and down on your clothed, soaked slit making goosebumps erupt all over you in response.

“Fuck…” he moans, “You’re so fucking soaked.”, and finally he removes his hand off your head. Both of his thumbs make contact with your slit through your panties and his thumbs sink into your hole, spreading you open through your panties and the moan he lets out? Worth it. You muffle your own moans behind your mouth with watery eyes. You stand up and pull away from him, grabbing his arms and pinning him to the counter. “What a naughty boy you are.” You tsk, “Already trying to fuck me before taking me to dinner? Chivalry is dead.”

You release his arms and grab a mug, pouring yourself coffee, desperately trying to distract yourself from how fucking wet you felt. You notice how he stays quiet, his eyes following your figure with every move you make. “What's got you so quiet, hm?”, You look over at him and notice a…blush? Covering his cheeks and ears? Now that was a rare sight. “I-uh- “He cuts himself off and storms off. What was that about?? You shrug it off and sit at the table. Of course, your diary was gone. Fuck your panties were clinging onto your soppy cunt. You quickly drown the rest of your coffee and head to your room.

You slip your now completely soaked panties off and grab your vibrator from under your bed, sitting on your bed you lay on your back and spread your legs; circling the toy up and down your leaking slit and clit, repeating the motion a few times. You slowly sink the toy into your needy cunt and line up the clit sucking part of the vibrator onto your clit. Turning it on makes you sigh in relief as the vibrations ease your neediness.

You moan softly as you move the bottom part of the vibrator in and out of your hole, your free hand fondling your tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples. Your legs shake as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm, your moans increasing as you move the toy faster, the vibrations and the heat from the vibrator making your head roll back into your pillow. You gasp wildly as your walls clamp around it, making your body tingle. You felt the knot in your tummy tighten as you cum hard around it, your walls spasming around your vibrator. fuck. you never come this quickly.

Shit. You still felt so turned on. You continue thrusting the toy in and out of you making your toes curl. You needed more. You needed Sukuna. You needed him so deep inside of you. Focusing on your own pleasure you couldn't hear Sukuna fisting himself with his ear to your door, your used panties over his nose as he inhales your scent. Hs entire body felt like it was on fire, burning with need while he pumped his cock imagining it was your wet, sopping cunt instead. Shit he felt so close, his thighs and abbs tensing in response as he cums harshly all over his hand and arm, his free hand muffling his mouth to not let any pathetic noises escape. Sukuna doesn't come that quickly. Not usually. He breathes heavily listening to your wet squelches and moans through the door. He wanted you so badly it hurt so much.

You’re not sure how much times you’ve cummed now, but you have a feeling Sukuna’s behind your door. For a while now you’ve been making sure your sounds are extra loud for him. Your body aches as you pull your now dead vibrator out of you, with shaky legs you slip your robe on and go into your bathroom, washing it and running yourself a bath. You put your vibrator on charge, hiding it and opening your door. You find nothing there but a large wet spot. You laugh to yourself knowing he was cumming hard to your sounds.

You shut your door and shrug your robe off, lighting a candle and sinking into the bath as you think of what to do. It’s around 7:40am now. “Y/n! I’ve got a job for you today!” Your dad’s voice sounds out, “I’ll send you the details!”, “Okay!” You yell out and smile. Finally, some action around here.

Time skip <3

You just finished your job. It was easy honestly but it’s raining and your new gown you got for the job has bloodstains. Oh well. If it’s washed properly, it shouldn’t be a problem. You’re waiting for your driver to come but… it feels like he’s late. Or maybe you’re being impatient? Ring ring! Ring ring! You look down at your phone, a call from…Sukuna? Why him? You sigh and answer, “What do you want.”, “where are you? Give me your coordinates. Now.”, you send him your location; “Why? What’s wrong?”, “Enemies of mine are looking for you. Your dad’s safe with me. If your driver or car shows up do not enter the vehicle, if anything hide till I get to you.”, “What do you mean enemies? What the fucks going on, Ryomen?” You stop talking when you notice your car. Your drivers car. Pull up in front of you. You stand still, motionless waiting for their first move.

“Y/n? Fucking answer me!”, You hang up the phone call, with your free hand you slowly snake your hand behind you, going up your thigh and grabbing your gun and throwing knives. Adrenaline floods through your veins when the car honks its horn. Your driver never honks the horn at you. With a beat of silence your eyes focus on the guns in the back aiming at you. Fuck. If you’re not quick, you’ll end up dead in about 2 seconds. Your eyes flit to your bag on the ground next to you. Perfect. You drop your phone onto your bag and run, hiding behind the tree near the entrance, with a quick motion you aim and blow the tires of the car. These fuckers aren’t leaving here alive.

You grab your throwing knives and wait. The people in the car shooting wildly now have the windows broken, and perfectly open for you. Idiots. You smirk and throw 2 knives hitting both of the people in the front seat in the head, instantly killing them.

Fuck. Now probably like 4 people in the back. Great. How long is Sukuna going to take? You hide behind the tree. Why does your mind keep travelling back to him? Those stupid tattoos. Those stupid piercings and his stupid pink hair. That stupid smirk he always gives you. Your heart rate picks up, why can’t you focus? You try to force yourself to focus on the dire situation at hand right now but the way he pressed your cock against you this morning. His thick hands...shit.

Why are you thinking of Sukuna? Sukuna… Sukuna.. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar tattoos and pink hair. Sukuna. “Took you long enough.” His voice fills your head, and you blink confusedly at him. “Huh? What happened?”, you go to sit up, but he puts a hand to your chest and keeps you from moving. "I came as quick as I could. They didn't touch you. They've been dealt with so do not worry." Without saying anything, both your hands grip his face and pull him closer to you. "What are y-", "Why are you in my head so much. it's like you're possessing me. What do you want from me, Ryomen Sukuna. Why did you have to come into my life." Your nails dig into his cheeks. His eyes widen in shock and... confusion?

Before he could respond you're out cold and he's left to think about what you said.

A few weeks later <3

It's been a few weeks since you've seen Sukuna. You've asked your dad where he went, and he said he has his own business to do. You couldn't find him anywhere, not even on any tracker or through anyone. it's like he left without a trace.

It's cold tonight. You look out the balcony and ignore the chilling cold breeze. It was a nice night tonight. The sounds of the night and traffic fill your ears and head leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe he'll come back? Pink hair...stupid tattoos...

"Didn't miss me too much now did you?" That deep voice. That familiar deep voice sounds through your ears, and you turn around so quick you almost fell over. Pink hair. Stupid tattoos.

"Where have you been? It's been weeks. What were you doing?" You question, watching as he comes closer to you. He was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand makes contact with your cheek, cupping it softly. Being soft wasn't Sukuna's style. You look into his eyes and see him frowning in thought. Sukuna disappeared for a while ever since you said you can't get him off your mind and here he was out of no where. He had some time to himself to reflect and try to get his feelings in check back to being heartless and cold. That didn't work. He couldn't stand anymore time away from you.

"It was not my intention to worry you." He thumbs your bottom lip, making your heart speed up. He looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world. You notice his gaze fixed on your lips and your eyes can't help but flit to his plush lips too. Your hands come up and cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "What were you doing? Why'd you leave without saying anything?", You demand. "Thought you hated me, princess.", "Shut up. "

The air around the two of you is thick, the both of you staring at each other's lips and heavy breathing, his hand on your cheek and both of yours cupping his face. Before you could blink Sukuna smashes his lips onto yours, his soft lips engulfing yours.

His tongue explores your mouth, shoving your tongue under his as he licks the cervices of your mouth, occasionally wrapping his tongue around yours. Your whimpers are swallowed up by his mouth greedily devouring yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull his body flush with yours; his hands move down to your waist and grip harshly. He moves you impossibly closer to him, his hands now gripping your ass. Fuck your entire body feels like it's been lit on fire, electricity courses through your veins like small sparks exploding throughout your body continuously.

Your lungs burn from the lack of air, but you don't want to stop. Not when you feel so good, not when you finally had Sukuna. He breathily pulls away from your lips, “Jump.” He orders, you comply and jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You start nipping at his neck while he carries you to your bed, softly placing you down and hovering on top of you. He looked so fucking good in his black suit. The rings he was wearing was doing things to you; you never thought you would feel from something so simple.

“Consume me.” You say softly, his eyes take you in, puffy lips, your nightgown haphazardly on you, your thighs squishing together and your hair disheveled. You were looking at him like you were going to explode if he didn’t touch you right now. He laughs and opens your robe, “Nothing underneath? What a slut. Did you know I was going to see you tonight?”, “Just a hunch.” your fingers were itching to grab him and pull him on you, but you fought the urge to. Wordlessly, his lips meet yours again; his tongue mapping out your entire mouth while his hands make contact with your breasts. He squishes them making the both of you moan into each other's mouths.

"Want me to consume you, huh?" He laughs, putting pressure as his hands trail down slowly from your breasts down to your belly button. "Possess me. I haven't been able to think of anyone or anything else besides you till you came into my life. You own me, Ryomen." With that you see a feral glint in his eyes as he shreds his blazer and top off, revealing...tattoos on his upper arms..chest..oh fuck. your cunt gushes out a wave of wetness pathetically making your slick drip down your thighs and onto the bed bellow you- making a wet spot.

"I can't fuckin wait. Waited long enough, brat. Can't say things like that and get away with it." He gruffs out and shreds his lower half bare. Thigh tattoos too? Fuck you think you just combusted right then and there. He pushes your thighs to your chest as he bites and sucks on your neck making you mewl in response. "Please. I need you so bad, please." You beg out, you don't even know what you're begging for at this point. For him to fuck you? Bite you? Him in general? Not even you know the answer. Maybe it was all.

He lines his cock in front of your entrance, and he rubs his leaky tip against your slit up to bumping your clit which makes you clench around nothing in response. His repeats the action a few times till he couldn't handle feeling your walls twitching against him any longer.

He sinks half of his hard cock inside of your sopping pussy, "it's all in." he lies, fuck it was so much. "F-fuck you're so t-thick" you manage to whimper out as he thrusts half of his dick in. You don't know its half but fuck it had your toes curling. "S-suk-una-! A-angh!!" you cry out and he buries his head in your neck and bites hard.

You gasp wildly and moan at the sensation because when Sukuna bites, he bites hard. He keeps your legs pinned to your chest and he finally thrusts the rest of his thick length inside of you making your walls clamp wildly and a shocked expression take over on your face, your eyes widening as you struggle to catch your breath. "W-what-! A-ah! Angh! K-kuna-!" And that fucker laughs at you. He starts ramming his stupidly big cock with harsh force making your eyes roll back and drool seep out of your agape mouth. "Yeah, that's it, fuckin take it." he grunts. The aroma of the candles you had lit and the open balcony with Sukuna fucking you stupid stimulated you and your mind so much to the point you felt like you were going to go insane.

He sits up and wraps a hand around your neck, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure on the column of your neck, rubbing his thumb up and down. Your walls convulse against him making him moan out in surprise. You make a mental note to do that more often. Without warning his hips somehow move faster and his free hand roughly grabs your tit, pinching your nipple. Fuck you couldn't even move, all you could do was just take it.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when the hand that was on your tit trails down to your stomach, his hips were smack into yours with need that made your entire body jerk up, his hand on your neck being the only thing to stabilize you. His cock was bruising your cervix with each harsh slap of his hips against yours, you could literally feel his mushroomed tip trying to rip through your stomach.

It was like his dick was trying to make a hole through your stomach so it could say hello to you. Fuck the bulge he was causing made you shake and wither around him and when he noticed it? That only made him go crazier. "Fuck..." his lips part and he lets out a low breaths grunt, "Fucking that's it." that's the last thing you blearily hear before your face is in the pillows and your ass in the air.

When the fuck did he flip us over? You don't have time to think before he drives his cock back inside of you and his thrusts are merciless. His hands grip the globes of your ass cheeks, and he spreads them harshly, exposing your tight ass hole. The cold air makes you shiver, and you almost feel your consciousness slipping. You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face because the only thing you could focus on was his dick rearranging your guts.

Your body feels like it's on fire, your senses full of him. Sukuna was all you could feel. All you could smell. All you could see, his image planted in your mind like it meant to be. It's like you could feel his entire soul.

His thumb circles your ass, hell his fucking thumb is bigger than your ass's hole. The hand that's not on your ass grabs your hair and pulks your face up. He leans over your body; basically, squishing it and presses his nose to your neck, "I have to fucking consume you. You know your little hole? Yeah? 'M going to make that mine too." Fuck you could die right now.

You try to speak but all that come out of your mouth is stuttered desperate gasps of breaths and choked moans, you claw desperately at the sheets and try to crawl away, his cock now half inside of you when you feel your body have a fire sensation spread throughout it.

"T-too m-much- angh!! " You manage to whimper out and oh does he look pissed off. One arm wraps around your shoulders and the other grips your waist and slides you back all the way down to the hilt of his cock. "You're not escaping me." He gruffs out and presses on the bulge in your stomach while he desperately yet sloppily slaps his hips into yours.

The knot in your tummy snaps and you don't cum, no, you squirt so hard all over his tummy, pelvis and thighs to the point your mouth was agape in a silent scream, your eyes clamp shut and you see pure white. "F-fuck-shit-y/n-" Sukuna moans out while he fills you up so much.

Your head felt dizzy, your body trembling into the mattress, you feel his surprisingly still hard cock slip out of you; his cum slowly dribbling out of you. "Don't think we're done, brat. Not after how much you pissed me off with your attitude.", You feel your heart drop. What. You weren't done? A rush of adrenaline rushes through your veins and you freeze when you feel his thick hands spread the globes of your ass cheeks.

"Told you, 'M gonna fuckin' consume you.", His gruff voice rings out and he runs his finger along your puffy, soaked folds- collecting the slick to lube your ass up. Once your holes wet enough, he slides a thick finger in, and you hear him laugh from how greedily your hole sucks his finger up. "N-not- funny-!" You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you shove your head in the pillow bellow you. It felt like a weird sensation. "Mm lets see if you can take another one.", Before you can react, he sinks in another finger inside of you making you mewl out in response.

He chuckles darkly before sliding in another finger- 3 fingers in total- and you felt like you were going to explode. With a slosh and a pop! he removes his fingers, and you shiver in response. "'Kuna- You don't have to-", "Zip it." You bite your lip when you feel his fat tip make contact with your hole.

Fuck it was too much. Without warning he slowly sinks his length into your tiny hole, shoving your head further into the pillow while you whimpered and moaned wildly. You hear him gasp and he lets a whimper slip out when he's all the way to the hilt.

Your eyes clench shut and your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck yeah...that's it..." He breathily grunts out and slowly rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the feeling. That doesn't last long though. He starts slamming his hips against yours as he holds your head down making you squirm and sob into the pillow.

"Fuckin' brat. Take it without cryin'." He spits out and lands a harsh spank to your ass making your entire body jolt and he palms where he slapped as a silent apology. He leans his entire body weight on top of yours while messily smacking his hips onto yours.

Your moans and cries are muffled and your entire body's tingling from both exhaustion and pleasure. The hand that's not still holding your head down snakes down to your puffy clit and he pinches it making you jolt your hips towards his. Wet sounds and skin slapping against each other filled the room along with his gasps and moans and your muffled screams.

Gripping the back of your hair he pulls your head up and bites your jaw, "'K-kuun-na-! A-Angh!!! P-pleeaaaseee-! O-ooohhhh!! Mfph!!!" Sukuna cut your blabbering off by shoving his fingers in your mouth causing you to make gurgling noises around them. His balls were slapping against your clit while he thrusted with all of his strength into you. "Fuckin' too loud. Be quiet or I'll stop fuckin' ya." At that you mouth clamps around his fingers, and you desperately try to stop yourself from screaming at how good you felt.

"I-I- shit..." He gasps, his throbbing cock twitched inside of you, and he felt his abs and thighs tense up. He was oh so close to coming inside of you. With his assault on your clit and his fingers massaging your slacked jaw mouth you felt the knot in your tummy snap as your eyes rolled back and your walls clamp around his cock. You hear him let out a strangled moan and gasp in your ear as you squirted messily all over his sensitive cock.

"Fuckin- shit-A-angh!" That's the last thing you could hear and the only thing you could feel was his leaky cock filling your ass up before your vision blackened and your body slumped against the pillow.

Sukuna can't move. He stays inside of you unmoving for a while, catching his breath and shaking slightly. Fuck. You were all he could think about, your skin, the way you looked at him, the way you shook, the way your cunt clenched around his flaccid cock. Your stupid smile. Your bratty attitude. How you looked when you were on a job. How you looked when you were at home.

Fuck. Just you. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

You consumed him just as much as he consumed you. His head felt dizzy, still inside of you his body slumps softly on top of yours. He doesn't even have any energy to move. Sukuna felt so warm inside it scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel warm. He was supposed to be cold hearted. It scared him how much you made him feel.

Your scent and just you in general overwhelmed his senses making his body erupt in goose bumps and shiver. Maybe consuming each other wasn't so bad.

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩｡˚ ⋆

Masterlist<3

Taglist :P

@my-own-au-my-way

[purrlockswatson]

Phantom of the Opera (1990), you did Erik proud

Alternate title: Christine, we have beef!

(Meme inspired by this post.)

I have not a bad word for this Erik (and not just because I can feel a certain friend of mine holding a chandelier over my head). The 1990 adaptation made some big changes to the story, but it perfectly captured the childlike soul of Leroux's Erik that is often lost in translation but vital to him. (When I was explaining POTO to someone outside the situation, i. e. my mum, two things I kept using as comparisons were a child and Gollum - not because he's a chaos gremlin, I was trying to describe how he has a skewered perspective of the world that isn't evil but doesn't follow the accepted moral system. But that's for another time.)

I found myself trying very hard not to resent Christine - a first time for me. I will defend her choosing the Compte de Chagny over Erik, she doesn't owe Erik love, no matter what he did for her. The problem is that she took on a responsibility she couldn't possibly carry.

Never, ever assume to fully understand someone. Especially someone like Erik, who thinks and exists on a different pane as most people. Christine was wrong, terribly wrong, to assume she 'knew his heart.'

When faced with a person so sensitive, so particular, when being the one person trusted by a person who trusts no one, don't make huge gambles like that. She shouldn't have assumed she knew what Erik needs better than he does - he told you he is happy with where they were, then stay there with him! Instead, she pulled the 'I can fix him' and shattered him completely. I don't hate her for being unable to catch Erik when he falls, I hate her for blindly promising to catch him and failing him.

(I do realise how much of the above describes myself and my worries about how people treat me, so fair warning, I may be a bit biased.)

An opinion: in every version, Erik emotionally manipulates Christine but here, Christine is the one who is emotionally manipulative. ('Manipulative' may sound malicious, but manipulators aren't always aware of what they're doing.)

In the second part of the series, she said at least three times 'If you love me...' Now, that is one of my least favourite sentences to see and hear in the best of times, but this is somehow even worse because Erik DOES do everything because he loves her. In other versions, there is the question of obsession against love when it comes to their relationship; in that context, I would accept her saying this. But here, Erik is not possessive.

As for Monsieur Carrière, I have beef with him too. An even bigger, tougher slice of beef. He is proved to be irresponsible: not once, but twice, he got in relationships and then left this partners when they have children. First time could be a mistake; the second time, especially when kept Erik's mother in the dark about his marriage, is inexcusable. Yes, he stayed with her till the end, but then left their son in a basement. Yes, he reached out to Erik in the end, but too little, too late. If Erik is emotional and irrational, it's because Carrière never gave him the guidance he should have.

Christine and Carrière love Erik, I don't doubt it. But it's still painful to see Erik fall down through everyone and everything that should have caught him: his talent, his parents, Christine.

If you'll excuse me, I need to cry in the catacombs and draw something miserable.

[neveraftcr]

" then help me understand. " briar wasn't so certain that he would help her, and she knew that it wasn't going to be as simple as expecting him to just come right out and say it. " doesn't have to be right now or all at once but... " and it was still all up in the air whether he'd even consider the offer she gave him. she still didn't know what he wanted, didn't know why he hadn't dragged her out the maze or just ran off and left her again to figure her own way out of there.

she could only imagine what had gone down previously for him to be so wary of her now. of course, she read and heard different things about him. they claimed he was just like his father, just a younger version who also couldn't be reasoned with. briar hated to admit it, but maybe once she'd have agreed with all the stuff they said about him. she hated it, because now, she didn't believe a single word anyone else said about him. wouldn't believe it until he told her or showed her it to be true. the caspian she had read about and heard about was not the one she had gotten to know, become friends with. briar opened her mouth, cut off by the wince and the ow that had her brows furrowing. gaze immediately shifted to his hand, so careful as she inspected it to find the scrape along his thumb. " you run away from me for ten minutes and look what happens. " actually, she was sure they'd spent longer running around that maze, but her point still stood. she didn't have anything to help him now, so her hands remained so holding his.

" i am different, you know. maybe before, i really wasn't but i am now. the difference between me, and think, pretty much everyone else, is that you actually let me know you. a little bit, at least. i think there's still a lot more to you that you're keeping locked away. " gently, she raised his thumb to her mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the scrape. " no, it doesn't. " metaphorically or in actuality, it didn't look like a dead end. metaphorically, she really didn't want it to be a dead end. she'd still be tightly holding his hand if she thought it would make him stay. " what can i do to help you trust me? "

"yes it does." grumbling under his breath, tugging her along like he's on a mission to get rid of her, get her out of his life before she can make even more of a lasting imprint on him. confuse and twist up his emotions he'd much rather avoid. "you're never going to understand the gist of it all." how hellbent his father is on hating the other party, how his father has been so adamant on teaching him to be a duplicate in sharing hatred, he'd go entirely sociopathic if he so much as knew he was associating with the other party's daughter for any other reasons than to use her. "it's odd to me," how his father hasn't been the most well liked president or person for beliefs caspian even shared differently than him in secret, but by pure association – just from being a father's son, he's been deemed as so even long before he claimed presidential status.

even when he was in law, governor then president... his father held up a bad reputation from the start. then, he came along into his and his mother's world and he carried the burden with the constant judgment passed onto him. for his entire life, caspian has been used to that. the way he can quickly gather sneers or indecisive judgmental looks casted his way when he stepped into a room. or people being intimidated because of the last name he bears. "that i am supposed to believe you somehow are so different from everyone else?" he questions incredulously but vulnerably this time rather than in a scolding and argumentative tone, wincing when her grip on his hand tightens.

"ow." he involuntarily mutters, instinctively moving his thumb off hers so it's not rubbing against the scrape. hearing all these other sentiments coming from her is a lot to digest and he hardly can accept any of it from how he's been treated by the world, grouping her in just as they'd done with him. especially when he might stop breathing at her announcing she likes him and wants him, no one had ever spoke those things. he'd never was the type to be the chosen one. "tell me. does it look like the dead end to you?" questioning vaguely as he finally slowed his pace, keeping his eyes off briar and focusing on the water fountain ahead to keep from looking at her. coming off confusing when he was just announcing they were at one. he couldn't just say he changed his mind, because he didn't want to admit that to himself let alone her so it was easier to just make a puzzle out of everything.

[sweetnans]

love me already

Pairing: f. reader/bakugo katsuki Summary: dual POV where mc is tired of waiting for Bakugo to be truth and confess his feelings for her. tw: none. Just fluff and chaos.

"Y'know, I think I'll just tell Bakugo I like him." You were drunk, and a sort sense of boldness invaded you all of a sudden.

"Girl, don't do that." Mina put her hands on your bare thigh from your skirt ridden up. "Wait till you sober up"

You were hanging with Mina after a month of not seeing each other, being pro heroes tide up your schedule so you were out of reach most of the time, only reachable by the phone. You had a blast of a night, went clubbing, and drank while dancing like old times.

"He's playing with my mind, I swear," the words spurred out of your system, and you felt like you might start to cry in any second. "He's always sending texts and asking if I'm hurt after a fight and-"

"Hey! He doesn't do that to me!" Mina whined, putting her left hand above his heart.

"Exactly! He's this obsessive fucker who thinks he's better than everyone else, always so cocky and he had me wrapped around his fingers with the details that I know he only do to me, so obnoxious" you let a sigh trying to come down from your despertarion but something made you see red again. "And yet he never confessed! I'm tired Mina what if he's just playing with me and doesn't want anything serious just fuck with me and hop on to the next. Maybe he thinks I'm playing hard to get, and now I'm kind of a challenge to him, you know the bastard"

Now you were upset.

"Mmhm, just give him some time. He has had a crush on you since we were at UA" Mina bit his nails and poured another glass for you.

"Exactly, that's what everyone says! His mom, his dad even Midoriya who can't catch a fucking clue even if it's tingling in front of his eyes. If He thinks I'm going to wait forever for him to grow a pair of balls? He's got another thing coming. " You downed the entire glass, and Mina hurried to pour another.

...

"She haven't talked to me in an hour," Katsuki stated, folding some papers on his desk.

"Man, it's her night off duty, I heard Mina said that they were going out tonight," Kirishima made a spun in his chair. "Partying and doing girl's shit"

Bakugo hated staying in the office so late, but the papers were not going to fill themselves out. At least Kirishima was there with him, trying to calm him down, but doing a pretty bad job.

"I swear if Mina let her fall into a ditch again I'm going to-"

"For fuck sake, bro!" Kirishima rolled his eyes, almost disappearing in his skull. "It was one time! Let it go. She was fine and giggling like a mad woman when you went to her rescue"

"I just worry about her," he grunted. "I'm a hero, that's my work"

"Yeah, with civilians, but she's a real hero, y'know." Kirishima pushed. Not in the six years that he'd seen Bakugo after you, has he been able to get the real confession out of his mouth.

Bakugo checked his phone again. Nothing.

...

"I'm going to get up there and tell him that I'm done waiting for him"

You didn't know how you convinced Mina into your crazy idea, but now you were outside, in front of your apartment's lobby, waiting for a cab.

"Don't you think you need to reconsider, maybe? You're tipsy honey, what if he's not even there" Mina tried to talk to you out of it, but she knew better, you were stubborn as hell, the least she could do was following you and making sure that, this time, you didn't end up in a ditch.

"He's there, he told me," you stopped a cab lifting a finger and told the driver the direction.

The way to Katsuki's agency was a haze. You remember looking at Mina, her eyes closed, trying to rest before the chaos breaks loose.

"Do you know what you are going to say?" She mumbled with her eyes closed and grabbed your hand to reaffirm her company and her friendship.

You had no idea.

...

"This is taking ages," Kirishima complained, trying to read the papers and arrange them by dates. "Why can't we just shred them and pretend it didn't happen?"

"The TV broadcasted the fight, you dumbass"

Katsuki was tired too, but he needed to make and fill the reports before tomorrow morning.

"Did she answered you?" Kirishima asked.

It was a lame night. He was practically locked up with his best friend all alone in his office. He had a purpose, and that was making him confess his love for you.

"No," he briefly checked his phone again before returning his eyes to the files. "What if she's in a ditch?"

"She's not!" Kirishima raised his voice qhile laughing, and Katsuki only grunted in response. "So what's the deal with her? You still like her or what?"

"Who told you I liked her in the first place?" He was smug about his answer, not giving away any hint of his real feelings for you.

"C'mon, everybody knows," something dark flowed into Kirishima's mind. He felt like a child poking a mad dog with a stick. "At least in our class, I mean, I remember Todoroki showing interest in her once, and you completely beat him up in spared fight, and Mirio that time he gave her a flower from the patio, you were fuming I still remember the red shade of angry in the tips of your ears"

"Keep working"

That phrase only gave him more fuel to continue the poking the beast game.

"Man, why don't you just be truth to yourself? Like, is it that hard to accept the feelings you have for her? She's amazing, smart, beautiful, She's a beast on the field and has a great heart. What's the problem, Dynamight?

He touched a sensitive fiber using his hero name. He always bragged about being the best, bold and facing everything, and everybody who dared to get in his way, but he was acting like a real pussy with you.

"I'm scared I'm not good enough, you happy?" He was upset, and Kirishima was astonished with his confession. He expected an angry gremlin yelling at him for being so annoying, spurring out his confession between variabilities of insults, but he didn't expect his best friend, the know it all and do it all feeling like he wasn't enough.

"Not enough? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Yeah, of course you have a shitty attitude, but you care for her. You're the main example of manliness. You are always taking care of her, giving her your attention, making time for taking her out of a ditch while you were patrolling, I mean, I would've left her there" Kirishima joked to make Bakugo less worried about himself. "I'm telling you man, you are it for her, but you gotta hurry the fuck up because what you see in her, everybody could see it too"

In the quietness of his office, full of papers with his best friend, giving shitty but quiet good advice, he realized that he needed to tell you his feelings, he couldn't wait anymore time.

...

You sobered up real quick. Having the massive building in front of you in the middle of a cold and freezing night, returned every sense that you needed in your body.

"You are doubting" Mina established.

"I'm freezing," you counterattacked. "Why didn't you tell me to put some jeans on?"

The dancing and the drinking made you feel hot and raised your temperature and you knew it, so you put on a skirt before going out without thinking you would come out of the house after coming from the club.

The lights were on, in the floor where Bakugo's office was situated. If you squinted your eyes, you could even see the shapes of Kirishima's and Bakugo's bodies through the glass. Or you were just still drunk.

"He won't be there forever, and you're going to catch a cold if you keep us waiting here for something to happen," Mina urged, hugging herself to keep the cold out.

"You're right, it's now or never," you said, walking determinated into the big glass doors to make yourself in.

With Mina behind you, you pushed the doors, and the guard glanced at you. He recognized you and Mina immediately, but you two put your credentials out just for safety. He gave you a nod and you continued your way to the elevator.

"Are you nervous?" Mina asked while you pressed the elevator button.

"Like shit." You watched the countdown in red numbers above the elevator doors. The elevator was in Bakugo's floor so no one was around.

The ding in the elevator startled you a little, and the turmoil in your stomach didn't make it any better. Mina pushed you through the open doors and pressed the button to Bakugo's floor.

...

"Thank god it's done." Kirishima was spining in his chair while Katsuki looked for his stuff to bring them home with him. "Are you ready to face your true feelings?"

Kirishima didn't drop the topic after the big confession and the great advice, he kept pushing his best friend and giving him ideas on how to tell you, some of them were good and some of them were trash, but Bakugo just listened and ignored at the same time.

"Shut the fuck up" Katsuki growled lowly stuffing his belonging into his black backpack.

"Isn't it romantic? Like, after all this time, you could just walk in with a bouquet of flowers and, wait no, walking? That's lame. What about a white horse? Yeah, that's manly. " Kirishima was hopeless, and even though Bakugo showed a scowl at his words he was actually having fun.

"No horses, but maybe a bouquet will be cool," he was making peace with his own feelings. At the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen?

...

"I think I'm going to pee, shit," you pressed your bladder, and Mina laughed at you.

"You can't be serious right now, we are halfway," she said while you danced funny in front of her.

"I'm sorry I process my emotions somatically," you started to feel cloudy, and your hands started to sweat.

"Hey, relax. He's so into you, maybe he'll stand like a rock for the first three seconds but then he will be all over you confessing, don't worry, and if I'm wrong you can always have Shindo"

You made a gag.

"I hate Shindo," you told her.

"But he follow you like a puppy," Mina imitated a cute puppy joining his hands under her chin and poked out her tongue.

The elevator stopped with a big thump, and you feared in a good way. You had your adrenaline up, and there were still remains of booze in your system to give you a boost.

"It's time, big girl." Mina patted your shoulder and gave you a little push.

...

Kirishima stretched himself, and Bakugo took his backpack, grabbing the zipper of a back pocket to fetch the keys of his office to close it.

He was busy looking for the keys when Kirishima started patting him in the arm repeatedly.

"What?" He told him tired and with heavy eyes. Kirishima's eyes were the exact opposite of him. They were big and surprised, looking at the other side of the glass doors of his office.

He followed Kirishima's look and stopped in you.

At first, he thought it was a kind of a mirage, then he thought that maybe he was more tired than he realized, and then he thought that maybe it was a villain whose quirk was morphing into peoples body's.

Every thought ended at the sound of your voice.

...

You walked through the hallway, practicing a speech of what you were going to say to him. You did it over and over, stumbling words in your own mind. You were there, physically and mentally, ready to take all your feelings for him out. You couldn't chicken out.

You saw his figure in the last office at the end of the hallway, body contouring to grab something from his backpack.

Kirishima was the first to notice you, his eyes wide open at the sight of you two walking in the middle of the night like you owned the place. He gave multiple pats to Bakugo's arm, and from afar, you could notice that he was tired.

Maybe your boldness wasn't the best thing to do at that moment.

You couldn't make your way out because he turned his gaze from the backpack to you in a second. By his look, you could see the gears in his brain moving to give some sort of explanation of what was happening in front of him.

He opened the door, forgetting completely that Kirishima was in his way. The red-haired boy pushed him a little, giving him courage, not caring that his best friend kinda kicked him, stumbling against him.

You two were in the same hallway looking face to face. Your two best friends a step back making themselves a crowd in what was about to happen.

"What are -" Katsuki started disoriented, looking for proof or a mark that you were injured or hurt.

"Shut up," you told him. Katsuki was very surprised at your determined tone.

"I'm liking this already," Kirishima muttered behind Katsuki, grinning like the Chesire cat.

The silence between the four of you was something that was eating your bones. It wasn't awkward, but it was heavy. You told him to shut up, but you weren't talking either, and you knew it. All the speech that you practiced before vanishing from your mind.

"Are you-

"Are you going to love me already!?"

You spoke at the same time, but your message was clear. Mina was right, Katsuki stood like he was made of stone, rigid, stoic, not even a muscle moving from your confession.

You sounded desperate. You blamed your thoughts, your desire to go pee, that you were at least fifteen percent still drunk and that you were freezing. You wanted to get over this chapter in your life, you didn't want to fool around any longer and for that you needed to know if Katsuki was on the same page as you.

"Oh my god," Mina said, holding his face with both hands.

"Shh," Kirishima silenced her. "This is better than the ditch episode"

You could tell that the booze in your system worn off just by waiting for Katsuki's response. The tic tac in your intern clock made it impossible to bear the silence.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stay there forever?" You hurried him, trying to hide the anxious feeling that you felt coming out of your voice.

...

Kirishima kicked Bakugo's heavy boots to take him out of his trance. It worked.

You always said to him that you were half witch, at least, always feeling before it happened. He wandered if this was one of those situations.

"I'm-

It was the first time that he felt speechless. He knew you from head to toe, and now he noticed that you were under the effects of alcohol but sounded sure about it. The way that you let it out was some kind of outburst from the time he took to process what he really felt about you. He knew he treated you differently. He liked spending time with you, and he found himself checking his phone very often, looking for a message from you. He was whipped.

He saw your bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had to do something.

...

It happened quickly.

First, you throwing your feelings at him like it was a ball of fire, then his eternal silence, and after that, your guts twisting inside of you, your throat closing, your nose pricking and your bottom lip trembling.

It was over for your fantasies with him.

Was it the worst-case scenario? Yes. Will you be able to get over it? Absolutely. Will the healing process hurt? Like hell.

You were weighing your options when the sound of heavy boots against the carpeted floor woke you up from your suffering.

He was a mere inch from you. Your body and his body were separated by a thin layer of air. You could feel the air coming out from his nose, hitting your forehead. He was tall, and you were almost the size of a elf.

"Never call me out about what I already do"

That's everything that came out of his mouth before joining his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. He wasn't gentle, but the way that he grabbed you by both sides of your face made you float in your spot.

You didn't have the time to process what he said or why he said that, forgetting what you said first, but ignoring the cheerful sounds coming from your friends mouth, you could only concentrate in his mouth moving against yours. Finally.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[winterarmyy]

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

[evilminji]

I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Bartender!Reader who works at a strip club. He’s tipping reader the big bucks and she’s convinced he’s just trying to get her in one of the private rooms, but that’s definitely not her job.

This guy is definitely trying to get into your pants. Unfortunately for him, your belts are rather secure. He is not slick about his intentions - always looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world, even though you barely dress up for work and your makeup doesn't look all that good in the dim light of the bar. You weren't hired to be an eye candy - although you have to wear more revealing things than what you probably would have liked, you're still as quiet as a mouse, never getting attention away from the girls. They are the true stars of the show - hot, perfect, so pretty you can cut yourself on the sharpness of their eyeliner. You're just...here, kinda. Not ugly enough to make people wince at the sight of you, but also definitely not hot enough to steal the show. Konig doesn't get the memo, though. Oh no, he is way too fucking invested in liking the way your cleavage shows up every time he asks you to reach for whatever bottle is the lowest on the little shelf under the bar table. You tried to change the bottle placement, but it seems like this man doesn't really care as long as it would make you move in a way that makes you really uncomfortable. You hate to admit it, but you almost...almost like the way he looks at you, though. It's nice to have eyes on you for once. It's nice, really. Until it suddenly isn't. Konig is very persistent, you see - he sees what he wants, and he doesn't really care if you have different opinions and desires for your next big break. He looks at the way you look and wants to have you with him, even though there are plenty of beautiful women who want to get with him. Konig doesn't care, only having eyes on you...at least he tips well - at least he is generous enough with money, so you can pretend you really want it. It's only when he forces you to press your back against the wall of the bar and gets his hands fully into your cleavage that you understand that the light flirting you used on him to get more tips was completely overkill. It's only when you saw for real just how desperate he was to get to you, you knew how fucked you were. Oh, but at least he won't allow you to work here anymore. At least he has enough money to make sure you would be only making drinks for him from now on. Aren't you excited?

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Taking Care Of You When You're Drunk

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had! Still not feeling great, but I will definitely get back to requests tomorrow :) This is just a lil thank you for your patience my loves! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

Butcher notices you've been drinking a lot more than usual. Ever since you found out he was dying, you've been trying not to think about it or worry about it, and the only way you can do that is by drinking. Getting drunk is just a fun side effect. He'll drive you from the bar, taking your shoes off before tucking you into his bed. He hates the idea that you're hurting yourself like this because of him, because he didn't listen to you and he took the V without regard to his or your safety. The least he could do was hold your hair while you threw up and bring you a glass of water and some Tylenol. You don't talk about it, though. You don't want to talk about him dying, you don't want to face that future, and you don't want to talk about your growing problem. You were drinking on the job, too, maintaining a certain numbness so that nothing else could hurt you.

Hughie hates that you're drinking more. He understands why. More and more stuff just keeps going wrong. More and more issues pop up. It's hard to be positive or optimistic. It was easier to find your way to the bottom of a bottle than to come face to face with any of this stuff. He doesn't mean to pry, but he asks you a lot of questions. The main one is why are you doing this? You just shrugged. It's so hard to explain. Everything feels like too much. You were tired, and scared, and you weren't sure you wanted to do this anymore. What was the point? He tried to cheer you up. You had the serum in the severed leg, you were so close, why give up now? You wanted to be that hopeful. You really did, but you couldn't.

Annie definitely lectures you. This is the third night in a row (this week alone) where the bartender called her, your emergency contact, taking your keys from you. You've been drinking a lot more, ever since you left The Seven and joined The Boys. You worked with Vought for so long, she knew there was a lot you weren't saying. She tried to talk to you about it, but you were so cagey, shutting her out instead. Shutting everyone out. It was awful, that much she knew. Still, everyone went through something. That didn't give you the right to get as drunk as you were as often as you were. You're barely listening, but she gives you her speech anyways. She'll keep telling it to you until something changes.

M.M. hates taking care of you when you're like this. The biggest thing he can't stand is the vomit. He stays as far away from you as possible, yelling from the across the room if you're okay. He offers hand sanitizer and napkins and mouthwash, but he refuses to get any closer than that. The noises alone make his skin crawl, let alone the smell. He's in charge now. He feels like he has to take care of everyone, regardless of the issue. You getting drunk wasn't a problem yet, but he knew he'd have to talk to you if it got worse. Drinking every night just to function during the day wasn't you. You couldn't keep going on like this. If that included tough love, so be it. You needed to hear it.

Frenchie drinks with you. He never goes as far as you, realizing that at least one of you should be slightly more sober. He doesn't really mind when you get drunk. Something happens with you. You become happier, sillier, more fun. You smile and laugh more. He likes seeing that. He likes knowing you're at least a little happier. Life had become so hard lately. Your past was catching up with you, and you didn't know how to handle it, so you got drunk. He understood the concern from everyone else, but he knew yelling and lecturing would change anything. At least he could be there for you. At least he could take care of you and laugh with you and be there. That's all you really needed.

Kimiko is quite gentle when you're drunk. She walks you home from the bar and takes off your shoes and asks you questions: Are you nauseous? Are you hungry? Thirsty? She gets it. When she saw the posters of the Shining Light Liberation Army, she drank more than a few beers. Anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes, you just need a little liquid courage to face the hard things. She makes sure you have pain relief for the headache you'll feel tomorrow and gets you something greasy to put in your stomach. She doesn't like or want to villainize your actions. You were all tired of this, fighting a battle you could not win. She stuck up for you when the others thought you were being messy or stupid. You just needed some time, that was all.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're messy, a degenerate, and he won't tolerate it. When he knows you're drunk or hungover he makes a special point to seek you out, to punish you. You're a member of The Seven, you should act like it. The same way it infuriates him when Sage lobotomizes herself, he feels that when you start drinking. You have a public image to uphold. Even when you go out in civilian clothes, anyone could spot you. Anyone could ask for a photo or ask questions. It was stupid and selfish and reckless and as long as he's in charge, he won't tolerate it. He humiliates you, he says, because he cares. You think it's because he likes having power over you when you're at your most vulnerable.

Bonus! Soldier Boy thinks you're a lightweight and calls you out on it any chance he can get. There's no keeping up with him. Even being a Supe, you could still get incredibly drunk. Your tolerance was a lot higher than humans, but nowhere near Soldier Boys. He doesn't really take care of you when you're drunk. It's more like lying you on your side and leaving you to sleep. He's not very caring towards anyone, let alone someone he considers lesser than himself. He's fun to drink with, but the fun pretty much stops there. If he's feeling extra considerate, he might throw a blanket over you, but that's as far as he goes. He'll leave you and keep on drinking for the rest of the night. You being drunk won't put a damper on his legendary partying.

[vivwritesfics]

10 Things I Hate About You

Sirius Black x Evans!Reader

Lily Evans isn't allowed to date. Not until her big sister does. At least, James Potter thinks so. What better way to rectify this than to get Sirius to date her. That shouldn't be hard, right?

3.1K

Lily Evans was not allowed to date. At least that was what James believed. He believed the reason she wouldn't date him was because of her sister.

Her crazy twin sister who was a loner freak. She was pretty, sure. Just as pretty as Lily. But she was abrupt, aggressive and, quite frankly, scared most people off. She was unashamed in voicing her opinions, not giving a crap on what anybody thought.

Lily Evans wasn't allowed to date because Y/N Evans wasn't dating. It wasn't a jealousy thing, it was a protective older sister thing.

"You don't need to waste you time on the guys at this school, Lils. You should just be focusing on your studies and getting the best grades you can," she said as she sat, stretched out on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, book open in her lap.

Lily let out a huff and returned to her homework. She knew there was no point arguing with her sister. And, it wasn't even like she wanted to date anybody, it just would have been nice to have the option. Especially when James Potter ramped up the flirting.

James Potter. He stared at her across any room they were both in. Pranks had gone wrong because he was too busy staring at Lily.

He'd asked her out several times. But her answer was always the same. She always turned him down and blamed Y/N.

So, James had to come up with a solution. He liked Evans, so damn much, he just had to get her sister out of the way.

Moony would never go for it. He was already sort of friends with Y/N. Academic rivals who had found friendship. They compared homework, attempting to correct each other. Which worked out great for James, Sirius and Peter.

Peter. Y/N would never go for him. Especially not after she'd caught him peaking into the girls hanging room after quidditch practice.

That left James with one last friend: Sirius. And might have well as been perfect for the job.

Sirius accepted. If it finally got James with Evans, he'd do it. Plus, Y/N was a challenge. If he managed to date her, he'd hate dated the biggest bitch in Hogwarts.

Of course, Sirius had the impossible task of getting her to agree to go on a date with him first.

On Sirius' first attempt, he waited leaned against the wall beside the doorway into charms. It wasn't a class they shared, and Sirius only knew where she was because he'd asked Lily.

So, he'd skipped his own class and waited outside of hers.

The girls in Y/Ns year giggled and batted their eyelashes at Sirius as the walked past. He flashed that ever charming smile, but that was the only attention he was going to give them. They weren't the one he was looking for.

"Hey," Sirius said as Y/N walked past.

She spared him a single glance and kept walked, not answering him.

It was a good thing thing Sirius was a persistent person. He followed Y/N away from her classroom, towards Muggle studies. "You got muggle studies?" He asked.

Y/N snorted. "What do you think?" She mumbled. "Haven't you got any classes whatsoever?"

"I might," he replied, leaning against the wall.

Y/N finally turned to look at him. She wouldn't admit it, but she noticed it, noticed his rolled up sleeves, his loose tie, the way he wasn't wearing his robes.

Sirius Black was undeniably attractive, sure, but Y/N wasn't looking to date. And good facial features weren't the only thing that mattered to her. So far, Sirius was all aesthetically pleasing facial features.

"I might want to stay here and walk to you."

Y/N scoffed and walked into Muggle Studies, leaving Sirius where he was.

***

"I'm telling you, James, she doesn't want me. She wants nothing to do with me," Sirius said as they lounged around in the common room.

James shook his head. "Come one, Padfoot. Every girl wants you, so why doesn't she?"

Before this whole ordeal, Sirius had wanted Y/N, but it was in the same way he wanted every girl. It meant nothing and the feeling would pass as soon as something had happened between them. But the more she rejected him, the more he wanted her.

So, with the help of Remus, the boys devised a plan. They were going to throw a party in the common room. And if Y/N and Lily came, and Lily saw Y/N with Sirius, maybe James might have a chance.

They spent the afternoon preparing everything, getting records together and sneaking alcohol into the grounds. Using the tunnel that led to the shrieking shack, Sirius and Remus managed to get to Hogsmeade. From there it was easy enough to by something to drink and get it back to the castle.

By the time the Gryffindors got back from dinner, the boys had the party in full swing. All that was missing was people.

It didn't take much to convince people to join their party. First, second, third and fourth years were ushered up to bed, since the marauders didn't want to be responsible for a bunch of drunk Fourteen year olds.

It was Peters job to make sure they stayed upstairs while everybody else partied. Sirius' job was handing out the drinks and Remus' job was to keep things rolling while James flirted with Lily.

Y/N was one of the last to make it back from dinner. Her sister had gotten to the common room first, and was already sat on the couch beside Marlene McKinnon, drink in hand.

Once Y/N walked into the common room, she scoffed and went to make her way up to her bedroom.

But Sirius caught her, getting in her way and handing her a drink. "Stay for a while," he said over the music and the chatter. "Have some fun with your housemates."

"I'm busy," said Y/N as she stared at him.

Sirius insisted, pushing the drink into her hand. "One drink, that's all I ask," he said. "Just one drink."

Reluctantly, Y/N took it. But one drink turned onto two, and two drinks turned into three. Soon Y/N was dancing on the table to the Queen records Sirius had put on.

Other students gathered around, laughing and watching as she danced. But Sirius could see it, see her slipping and falling from the table. So, he strode over, pushing his way passed the other Gryffindors, who let him pass without protest, and grabbed a hold of Y/Ns hands.

"Let's get you some air," he called over the noise.

"But I'm having fun!" Y/N shouted back, throwing her head back as she swayed from side to side. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Sirius practically pulled her from the table. He wrapped his arms around her, leading her out of the common room.

Sneaking through the halls of the castle was hard enough on a full moon. But, with a drunk Y/N Evans clutching onto his arm, it was damn near impossible.

Sirius hid her in an alcove with him, holding his fingers to her lips as Slughorn came past. Y/N let out a giggle and licked Sirius's finger, but he quickly placed his hand over her mouth.

Once Slughorn was gone, it was easy enough to get Y/N outside. Sirius walked her down to the Black Lake, sitting her down against a tree. "How are you feeling?" He asked, sitting down beside her.

Y/N let her head fall against his shoulder. "My head feels fuzzy," she complained, shutting her eyes.

"That's because you've had too much to drink." Sirius pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out. He put one between his lips and lit it.

As soon as Sirius took the first puff, Y/N reached for the cancer stick. He gently batted her hand away, wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "You'll throw up if you smoke this," he said and Y/N just nodded his head.

***

She didn't want to talk about it.

Some Gryffindors laughed as they passed her in the hall, but Y/N's harsh glare was enough to shut them up.

She hid herself away in the library, in the darkest corner as she read through books. For one she wasn't studying, reading for the pleasure of it.

When somebody walked towards her, Y/N turned away.

When Sirius Black walked towards her, Y/N scoffed and shoved her nose deeper into her book. If there was one person she didn't want to talk to, it was the person that got her drunk.

He sat opposite her, drumming his black nails against the desk. "How you feeling today?" He asked, using his finger to lower Y/N's book.

She glared and lifted it back up. "Go away, Sirius."

"I'll go away," Sirius replied, "If you go to Hogsmeade with me."

Again, Y/N scoffed. But this time she stood up and walked away from him. She checked her book out of the library and strode out, all while Sirius watched her go.

Goddamn he wanted her.

He needed Remus's help.

Sirius met his friend in the Gryffindor common room. "We need to do something," he said as he paced in front of the fire place.

Remus was sat back, looking cool, calm and collected. Of course he was, he had virtually no part in this whole Lily and Y/N plan. "Do you think it's really fair that you're chasing her just so that James can date her sister?"

Stopping his pacing, Sirius stared at his friend. He wanted Y/N Evans and he wanted her bad.

Remus let out a sigh. "Have you ever noticed that she's always reading these romance novels?"

"So?"

"You'll need to do some sort of gesture, something big and romantic," Remus replied, running his hands through his hair.

Some big, romantic gesture, huh? Sirius could do that.

***

Y/N had never received a howler before. Never, not in her entire life. With her parents being Muggles, they didn't know how to send them. So, when the owl dropped the red envelope into Y/N's lap, her sister stared at her. "Who on earth sent you that?" Asked Lily as Y/N picked it up.

She shrugged her shoulders and unsealed it. Immediately, the red envelope and letter inside became a mouth. A mouth that started singing. "Oh my god," Y/N mumbled, hiding her face from everybody else in the great hall, eating their breakfasts. She'd never been this embarrassed in her life, not even when she'd gotten incredibly drunk last week.

The Howler sang Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen as Sirius came and sat opposite her, smirking with his ring covered hands clasped together. "This is from you, isn't it?" Y/N asked over the singing.

Instead of answering, Sirius climbed up onto the table. He sang along with the howler, kicking dishes of food away from the table. And, when the song was over, he held out his hands towards her. "Y/N Evans, will you go out with me?"

The embarrassment had turned into laughter. As embarrassing as it was, Y/N loved it. It was amazing. It was the most Sirius Black thing in the world.

But Y/N didn't get to answer him, not when Professor McGonagall came striding towards him and pulled him from the table. He waved at Y/N as he was dragged away to detention.

"What on earth," Lily muttered, shaking her head as Y/N stood up from the table.

"I don't know, Lils," Y/N said and ran office.

She knew exactly where to find Sirius. McGonagall had him in her office, writing line while she watched over him.

Y/N knocked on the door and waited for McGonagall to let her in. When she shouted, Y/N strode into the office. "Hey, Professor. As a Muggleborn student, I have some questions," she said and walked over to the window, pulling McGonagall's attention away from Sirius.

It took Sirius a moment to catch on. So, Y/N kept talking, kept holding McGonagall questions. "So, do how do Muggleborn students come to be?" She asked.

Sirius's eyes went wide. He stood carefully pushing his chair back while McGonagall was turned around.

But she went to turn back. "Like, do I have a magical family member from a few generations ago?" She asked as Sirius tiptoed towards the door. "And, how come Lily and I are both magic but our sister isn't?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Evans," McGonagall said, keeping her eyes on her as Sirius made it out of the door. Y/N got herself ready to run. "But I don't have time for this right now. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You're right, Professor. I'm sorry," Y/N said and swiftly walked out of the office.

She got away quickly, before McGonagall could call her back and ask about Sirius's whereabouts. Y/N wasn't sure, anyway. Sirius was long gone by the time she got out of the office.

Suddenly, Sirius appeared out of nowhere. He strode forward and tapped Y/N on the shoulder. She turned quickly, ready to tackle her attacker, but when she saw Sirius, she relaxed. She went to say something, but he beat her to it. "Meet me on the astronomy tower later," he said and walked off again.

***

James walked towards Lily and placed his arms around her shoulders. "Word on the street is your sister is seeing Sirius," he said as they walked.

Lily didn't remove his arm, but she didn't give him the time of day, either. She just kept walking, as though James wasn't there. "So, now that your sister is dating, how about I take you on a date?"

"A date, James, really?" Lily asked, finally pushing his hand away.

James nodded his head. "If Y/N is dating, why can't you?"

Letting out a huff, Lily turned to face him. "Okay, if I go on one date with you, will you finally leave me alone?" She asked and James nodded.

One date. All he needed was one date.

***

Y/N made her way up to the astronomy tower. She was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping herself warm as she walked through the castle.

Sirius was already up the astronomy tower, a picnic set up in front of him. He had the blanket, the basket, a candle surrounded by food. It was simple food, sandwiches and snacks.

"Wow," Y/N whispered as she walked over to him.

Sirius grinned and spread his arms. "Surprise," he said and sat on one side of the blanket, gesturing for Y/N to sit opposite him.

She took her seat and Sirius passed her a biscuit. "So, what is the deal with James and my sister?" She asked as she leaned back, looking across the castle grounds.

Sirius shook his head. "He really likes her," he said and ran his fingers through his hair.

Y/N let out a snort. "I think the whole school knows that."

"No, I think the whole school knows that I like you," Sirius muttered with a smirk.

They spoke the whole evening long. Even once the food had been eaten and they were comfortably full, Y/N and Sirius stayed where they were, talking about their lives. Y/N learned about his home life and just how shitty it was. She told him about being Muggleborn and how spiteful her sister was.

They were sat beside each other, Y/N leaning against him as he watched the stars. "So, why don't you date?" Sirius asked her. "You're gorgeous, I know so many guys that would be so happy to be in my position right now, so why am I the lucky guy?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I've just always wanted to be more focused on my studies," she said.

Suddenly Sirius placed his finger under chin and tipped her towards him. He kissed her, slowly gently, eyes closed as his lips moved against hers. He tasted of smoke and mint, the taste intoxicating. Y/N couldn't get enough.

She ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. Sirius let out a whine and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. He couldn't stop the smile crossing his face as they just sat there.

There were footsteps, making their way up towards them. Y/N and Sirius pulled away to look at who was approaching.

"Lily," Y/N said as she stood, moving away from Sirius. "What're you doing up here?"

And then James appeared behind her. He grinned when he saw the two of them, both of them breathless. "Thanks, mate," he said as he and Lily came up the stairs.

Y/N stared at Sirius. "What does he mean?" She asked, picking up her things. "Sirius, what does he mean by that?"

"Y/N, listen, you've got to understand-"

But that was enough for her. Y/N turned on her heel and walked away from him, running down the steps and back to the common room.

Sirius spent the next few weeks trying to speak to her. He waited outside of her classrooms and tried to corner her in the common room, but Y/N marched away from him, a furious look on her face.

She was furious. Furious that Sirius had just asked her out for James' benefit, furious that she had fallen for him.

She was hurt, incredibly hurt.

She hated the way she felt around, the way he made her heart flutter. She hated the way his gaze heated her cheeks, hated the way her hand felt in his. She hated the way he smelt like cigarettes, hated the way he tasted of smoke and mint, and hated the way she loved it. She hated that he'd taken her on her first ever date and hated the way she loved it. But, most of all, she hated the way she didn't hate him.

Y/N sat in the common room, reading her book. She was constantly looking around, making sure Sirius didn't appear in front of her.

Suddenly, a couple of books appeared on the table in front of her. They were held together by a piece of twine, held together in a neat bow. Beneath the bow was a small note, her name written on it. Y/N grabbed a hold of it and turned it around.

'Forgive me? - S'

Y/N looked across the common room, meeting his gave. She gave him a quick nod and went back to her book, a grin splitting across her face.

[nathaslosthershit]

Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)

Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him

Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.

He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.

"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.

"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.

"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."

"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."

"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.

As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.

Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.

After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.

The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.

After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.

He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.

Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.

"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.

"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"

"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"

It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?

As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"

He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.

"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"

She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.

"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.

The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others

logansargeant New job

user1 hey! so this is insane

user2 unemployment has never looked better

alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!

logansargeant got to keep them guessing

user4 dilf era yes please

oscarpiastri how long is the contract?

logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future

user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out

jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!

A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!

[novemberheart]

{overview} Your heat doesn't quite go as planned. Kate provides your pack with a predicament

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, heat cycles, MDNI, heat cycles, p in v sex, knotting, cursing

Chapter 22 <- Chapter 23 -> Chapter 24

There was a soft knock at the door making John stir.

“Come in,” he groaned, sitting up with you still against his chest. You mumbled something incoherent, drifting right back to sleep. Johnny came in with two takeout containers. John stood up, keeping a firm grip on you as he tossed a few pillows onto the floor, knowing you would throw a fit if your nest got dirtied by food. Johnny set the containers on the ground, grabbing Simon's hoodie off the bed and tugging it over your head.

You were out of it. Just a few hours ago Kyle had come in to make sure the two of you had water and said you were up and chatting, now you were like one of the pillows on the ground. There had been no moans or groans since last night, your first time, making everyone a bit nervous. You should be working through your heat. John threw on a pair of sweats, as Johnny had you propped up against some pillows. You smiled at him softly, wrapping your arms around his bicep. He pressed a kiss against your heated forehead, wanting nothing more than to stay with you.

“You can stay, ‘Tav,” John assured. He didn't seem too out of it. If it wasn't for his dark eyes and flushed appearance he would seem exactly the same. Johnny smiled, pulling you into his lap, and grabbing your lunch to feed you. You purred against him, happy to smell something other than John’s campfire and fog scent.

“Simon wants to call a doctor,” Johnny spoke slowly. John hummed, already knowing what he was speaking about. You should be deep into your heat by now, especially after being sexually active. He should be deep into his rut as well.

“Is a bit concerning isn't it?” John sighed, between bites. “Give her the rest of today. Her body is experiencing a lot of things it hasn't before. Our girl just needs some time to work through it, right pretty?” he questioned looking over at you. Your eyes were nearly closed, staring up at Johnny like you hadn't seen him in months.

“That’s fair,” Johnny agreed, working a spoonful of corn into your mouth. It was quiet for a moment.

“You gonna mark her?” Johnny asked- bordering on a request. It was the thing he hated most about being a beta. He would never be able to see his mark against your skin. At least he would be able to wear yours when the time was right.

“Didn’t quite discuss that too much before. We got a bit heated making out one time and she asked me to do it then. But I want her to have a clear head when she makes that decision,” John explained. His hand reached out, running up and down your leg.

“Would you let her mark you?”

“Absolutely,” John replied without missing a beat.

Kate groaned, trying to balance her coffee and tablet in one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Laswell,” She spoke, using her elbow to push a pile of papers off the edge of her desk.

“Kyle found something,” She immediately recognized Simon’s voice.

“That’s one of the things he’s good at,” Kate shot back, plopping down on the couch in her office.

“It's about our girl.”

Laswell froze.

“What’s wrong? She alright?” She had just talked to you a few days ago. You were nervous about the situation with your heat but were happy otherwise.

“Kyle was looking at her tracking app a couple of days ago when he noticed another chip under her name popping up under the ‘connect’ list. He clicked it and it knew her location and everything,” Simon explained.

“Did it have another name registered to it? Like how you and John are on hers,” Kate asked.

“Negative,” Simon sighed. “Kyle thinks it disconnected from the owner, that's how we were able to find it.”

“You think the owner is going to want to pursue it?” Kate questioned, her stomach beginning to turn.

“Hope they do,” Simon grunted. “It says it’s located in her leg- the chip.”

“The leg?” Kate mumbled. “It couldn't be a chip then. She would’ve felt it. It would have to be a small wire of some kind. Can you put her on the phone?”

“She’s in lockdown with the old man,” it was vague, but Kate knew what he meant. It also explained why John wasn't blowing up her phone right now. They couldn't discuss it with the two of you in such a vulnerable state. “Me and Kyle were thinking about flying back to base,” Simon added.

“You think it's that serious? Maybe she got it when she was little?”

“She would've known about it by now. They aren't meant to be in more than five years. Besides, we can't take any chances. If we don't pursue this and something happens”- Simon cut himself off.

“Look at L.T. Ghost taking care of his pack,” Kate smiled. She couldn't quite tell if the sound on the other end was a purr or static. “Let me dig through some medical files. If there is danger, you all should be there, especially when they are this vulnerable,” Kate reminded. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Laswell. For everything,” He clicked the red button before she could respond.

She had a feeling you were included in that ‘everything.’

It felt like you were watching yourself from behind a glass screen. You could see everything, hear everything, yet you couldn't take control. Forced to watch from the sidelines. John had eased the ache in your body last night, and the feeling had yet to return. Why hadn't it? What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you just be a normal omega? You couldn't even perform in your heat, or help your alpha with his still lingering rut. What good were you?

A loud whine woke him up, his head quickly shooting up from its resting place against your stomach.

“What pretty girl?” John soothed you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. How could he be so nice- so understanding? He should be out looking for a better omega.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, as he swept the tears away.

“Nothin' for you to be sorry about, love,” he assured instantly. He paused for a moment. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked softly. You hadn't done anything but be a perfect little omega for him, despite the fuzziness in your brain.

“I can’t,” was all you were able to get out, sobs wracking your body.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” he cursed softly. “No reason for that,” he used the hem of his shirt to wipe away your tears.

“I’m not a good omega,” you gasped through your sobs. A warning growl rumbled in his chest, making you jump. It was a natural instinct to bare your teeth at someone who talked b about your omega- even if it was the omega themselves.

“There’s definitely no reason for that,” he snarled, pressing a rough kiss against your cheek. He slowly put the pieces together as to what you were getting at. He didn't even think the toll of not completing your heat would have on your self-esteem. That was bullshit though. You were much more than how well you could fuck him in a delirious state and he was a bit surprised you even entertained the idea. His sensitive girl.

“If I can't get into a heat how am I supposed to take a knot, or be marked?” you grumbled sadly, finding the energy to paw at your face.

“You can get into a heat, pretty. Your body is still adjusting to the pack and to me. By this time next year we’ll be laughing about this.”

Next year? He wanted to keep you?

“You still want me?” It was the lowest sentence you had ever uttered, yet it was a blow to him.

His first feeling was that of insult. Did you think that lowly of him? That he would toss you to the curb just because you were having a bit of trouble? Then he saw the look in your eyes. You were so small- beat down and defeated over something he had hardly thought twice about. You weren't the you he was used to, you were the raw, unfiltered, scared version of yourself. The version that had jumped from omega holding house to omega holding house. The version of you that had been let down by so many people in your life. The version of you that had been overlooked and disregarded due to your status.

Now that version of you was his.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

“More than anything,” was all he could manage.

You were relieved when the fire returned in your veins. Your hands patting your alpha’s chest to wake him. He gasped awake, his trained eyes scanning around the room for a threat, relaxing when he just saw your happy face. He smiled softly until your scent hit him.

“There you are, pretty girl. Just needed some time,” He chuckled, rolling over so you were on your back. You nipped at his neck, your hands wandering under his shirt. He lets you do as you please, without rushing or urging you along. The soft pads of your fingers running over scars he had long forgotten about.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way. He smiled softly, his beard tickling your cheek as he kissed along your clothed shoulder. The bare skin of your legs against his wasn't enough for him. He tugged Simon’s hoodie off of you, purring as he was finally able to feel you fully.

This time he went slow- as slow as he should've gone for your first time. He was drawing it out, with every drag of his hips you were pushed near the end only to be yanked back. You were a desperate little thing under him. So needy and scratchy that he had to put you on your stomach.

“Only patient girls get kisses,” is what he had told you. You whined, leaning your head back, hoping he was just being a tease. His hand gripped the base of your neck, gently pushing it back into the pillows. He chuckled- a bit cruelly- from behind you, a particularly deep thrust making you cry out.

“Please?” you whined, your bottom lifting off the bed so prettily for him. He hummed, running a hand all the way up your arched back. He leaned over you, his lips pressing against your wet cheek.

“I think the betas spoil you too much,” he mumbled, his hips returning to the slow speed. “Think all you have to do is say please with those pretty eyes and you get whatever you want hmmm?” he half-asked, keeping himself sheathed inside you.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, making him chuckle. He kissed the small ring on your finger Kyle had bought you. The beta was just supposed to run to the store to get popcorn for movie night and ended up coming back with a ring that cost half a paycheck.

You wiggled your hips, taking it upon yourself to start pushing yourself back on him. He watched as you slowly found your own rhythm. He cursed softly, watching as your cunt swallowed him whole. He gave you soft encouragement, the grit in his voice making the tightness in your stomach swell.

“Can I?” you asked through a strangle moan. Even after all his teasing, you were still his obedient omega. His chest rumbled, causing the vibration to shoot straight through you.

“Course, sweetheart. You earned it,” he praised. That was all you needed, shaking around his cock with a breathy moan. He held your hips in place to keep you from running away, your spasming walls causing his eyes to roll back.

He had hardly a minute to catch his breath before you were pushing yourself back against him again.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growled, immediately meeting your thrusts. He wrapped an arm around your waist, rolling over onto his back taking you with him. He forced your legs apart, your back against his chest as he drove his hips up into you. The new position hit something inside you that turned you into a purring ragdoll. “Purring from my cock?” he questioned through a groan like he couldn't quite believe it. His hands had a bruising grip on your thighs, the force of his thrusts nothing but mean.

There was swelling between his thighs, and even in his dazed state he could figure out what it was. You seemed to know too- at least instinctually, judging by the way you tried to push yourself down on it. “Think you can take my knot, pretty girl?” he asked softly, his pace beginning to slow so you could talk. You nodded your head eagerly, your face pressing against the side of this neck.

He resumed, his knot slamming against you with every thrust. You came unexpectedly, your cunt gushing around him and over the sheets. You were shaking in his grasp and he began rolling his knot into you, your slick making it a bit easier. Your hips tried to pull away, but he knew it was just from overstimulation. He matched your purrs, the action causing your body to relax enough for him to ease the rest of himself in. Your body stilled as the two of you locked together, John groaning breathlessly.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, a warm buzz filtering throughout your body.

Your world slowly turned black.

Two days had come and gone. Today marks the fourth day of your heat.

Judging by your smell. Today is the last day. You were in the bathtub, the water too scalding for John’s enjoyment, but your sore body needed it. The alpha taking great pride in scrubbing and massaging you clean.

You hadn't been marked. John had come close numerous times, but was able to hold back. He couldn't do something that drastic without discussing it with you in length. Despite that, you had a large spot on your neck- where he planned to mark you. He couldn't stop running his thumb over it.

“Gonna be ready to see the boys?” He hummed, his fingers scratching against your scalp. You knew he was referring to Simon. Johnny and Kyle snuck in during the pockets of peace between rounds. Johnny to give you food and Kyle just to hold you.

You had missed Simon. When you were feeling extra sensitive just knowing he was outside the door made you feel a hundred times better. You nodded, as he washed the shampoo out of your hair.

“I miss him,” You smiled.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder - especially with Simon,” he teased, making you giggle.

You put on fresh clothes, grabbing Vernie off the bed. The bed was in rough shape. John came up behind you.

“Don’t worry about that,” he insisted, pressing a kiss against the side of your head. The sheets had been shredded, the headboard practically crushed to bits and you could only imagine what it would look like under a black light. While you were only half of the reason it was in the condition it was, you still felt responsible.

“Go say hello to your boys. They miss you,” John smiled, throwing on a shirt. You beamed, practically bouncing down the hallway. They were still asleep sprawled out on the pull out couch in the living room to keep Simon company. You put Vernie down and she quickly stumbled her way over to Simon. You crawled over Kyle, curling yourself under his chin. He gasped awake, causing the others to jump.

“Still in one piece?” He mumbled, still playful even in his groggy state. He rolled over so you were under him- a position you had grown quite familiar with the past few days- resting his body on top of yours. You could hear Johnny mumble something, scrambling across Simon so he could get his paws on you. He growled as Kyle refused to move, worming his arm between the two of you and pulling you so you were smushed between them. “Can’t even get a minute?” Kyle huffed, burying his face in your hair.

“Her fault for being so pretty,” Johnny grumbled, placing the blame on you. His teeth nipping at the spots covering your neck from John. He swallowed back his disappointment at none of them being a claiming bite. The comfort of being between the betas again made it easy for you to start drifting back off to sleep. You had about five minutes of sleep when Kyle’s phone blared through the living room. You half expected him to deny it, like he usually did. Instead, he peaked at the Caller ID quickly making his way to the backyard, Simon following. You could sense Johnny’s uneasiness.

“Everything alright?” you hummed. The worst thing in your mind is that you would all have to leave and go back to base. You were due to go back in a few days, hopefully things could wait until then.

“Yeah, Bon,” Johnny assured, forcing himself to purr to relax you. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

Regardless you watched as John made his way down the hall about to turn into the living room, until he was ushered outside by Simon. You had the sinking feeling it wasn’t about work. Was it because of your heat? Because of how hot and cold it was? Because it didn’t last as long as it should’ve? Because you weren’t marked? Why didn’t he mark you? What if they were calling someone to come pick you up now? What if-

“None of that,” Johnny spoke, making you jump. He ran a hand over your stomach. You whined, rolling over so you could hide in his chest. “What happened?” he hummed, wrapping you up in the blankets. It smelled like your pack. Cinnamon and leather- with a gust of fresh breeze to cut the heaviness.

“It’s about me isn’t it?” You whispered. Johnny tensing was enough to confirm your suspicions. He should’ve known your omega intuition would uncover the truth before any of them were ready to share it.

“It's about work, peaches,” he stood his ground. He couldn't give up any information yet, till they knew the full story.

-outside-

“Hey, Laswell,” Kyle greeted with a sigh. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had always been a man of action- so being told to let someone else take the reigns was causing him distress.

“Well, I figured out who it belongs to,” She sighed, equally hard. Kyle and Simon looked at each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John moving towards the living room.

“We need you out here,” he whispered. The alpha furrowed his brows, changing his course to the backyard.

“Her mother,” Laswell said finally. Kyle sucked in a breath through his teeth. John was confused but remained tight-lipped.

“She’s looking for her?” Kyle pressed.

“I don't see any signs of wanting to have contact with her,” Kate said sadly. “Just seems like she was trying to keep an eye out for her,” Kate suggested.

“Do you have her location?” Kyle questioned.

“Her last known location is Palm Springs, California. That was over two years ago and she's not living at that address anymore,” Kate continued. “She isn't registered anywhere else in the U.S. There's no death certificate either. Another thing is the type of chip she used. It lasts about 7-10 years before it gets broken down and absorbed into the bloodstream. It’s nearing the end of its life, that's why it disconnected,” Kate explained.

They felt relieved. You weren't being tracked by some psycho who had it out for you. It was just a last-ditch effort by your mom to be a part of your life.

“Thank you, Laswell,” Kyle breathed.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your vacation- oh and John make sure to ice your back. I know it’s sore,” She teased, the call ending. They chuckled dryly, waiting for someone to speak.

“Her mother chipped her before she left?” John clarified, causing them to nod their heads.

“How do we tell her?” Kyle asked.

“We don't,” John said quickly. The two men stared at their alpha. “What are we supposed to say? Your mother chipped you, but doesn't want to reconnect with you? She knows about how you've been thrown around from omega-holding house to omega-holding house, yet she has done nothing to stop it. She's our omega, it's our job to protect her from information like that. Besides, I'm not sure I want her mother around her anyway. Who’s to say she won’t break her heart again?”

No one could oppose. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! See you in three days for Chapter 24🧡

[0luv9]

forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to do this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

[coquettepascal]

purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

tags: 18+, smut, angst(ish), jackson era!joel, cold!joel, grumpy!joel, innocent!reader, dom!joel, implied age gap (reader doesn't remember pre-outbreak), corruption kink, joel takes your undies, humiliation, oral sex (m!receiving), allusion to thigh riding, a feeling of helpless/hopeless-ness permeates this fic, reader is pretty pathetic, use of "sweet girl", objectification of reader, unrequited obsession, this fic isn't necessarily sexy, just mildly sad.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

Nothing in this world has ever, or will ever, belong to you. Faint memories glaze your mind sometimes, when you lay down to rest. Not your own memories, but things you’ve read in books and seen in abandoned family photo albums. White wedding dresses, cars that drive, Sunday night family dinner. An American lifestyle that was sucked away with the cordyceps, something only they could clear out. The bombs the government used, the ones you can’t remember anymore, they never wiped mother earth clean the way she has done for herself.

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

You’ve never known ownership. The clothes you wear belonged to people before you, the ground you walk on cannot be sold. Maybe in another life this would feel fulfilling, but something in you wants to know what it is to own, or even fit in. Your skin, flushed and healthy, skin full of life and blood and organs. A heart that thumps in a world of disease, disorder, death. What a weird purity you hold, something you want to ruin. 

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you. 

Joel knows greed, remembers the world before. His hands have taken food, land, lives, anything you can imagine. It isn’t something you realistically think about, more infatuated with how he has the ability to do all these things. Not that you hadn’t committed your own sins, but to defend yourself isn’t wrong, at least that’s what he says. Something in Joel smolders the way only a primal fire can, he is from a world whose memory of a flame will extinguish soon.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

You don’t understand the fascination he has with you. The memory of the night he first led you back to his house is blurry, a fleeting moment in comparison to what has happened since. There was conversation of music, of you having a tape you wish you could play. 

His hands were slow when they slid your underwear down your legs, you hoped he wasn’t looking. Nothing about you felt sexy or womanly, you felt dwarfed when he was so close. Again, you wished you could belong, so maybe you could hide. There was a stain in the gusset and you remember how he pulled the garment off your ankles when it dangled there.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

Joel had smeared his thumb through the sticky wet mark, huffing in surprise. He knew it was for him, knew there was nothing else that could have made you do that. Humiliated, you had tried to yank back your underwear, but he refused.

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you. 

Now you seek him, the ache for belonging in the world twisting to a yearning for him to take from you. If you could not belong to this world, if you could not fit, at least you could fulfill him. Joel doesn’t like it when you seek him out too often, hates when others notice it. You’re not his, never his, just a moment of gratification for his consuming greed. 

Once, you waited in the early morning at the stables for him. Crouched near the barn door, you waited and watched the dewy grass grow. The crunch of his boots, the yawn he let out as he passed by you, it was enough. He said nothing to you, took off on his horse with some other man trailing behind him. 

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

Of course, he did. You relished in the small victory of him stealing from you again. Purity leaks from you in the form of drool on your chin, when he pulls you off his cock. Joel’s thumbs push the spit back in your mouth and you suck it down willingly. Praise rumbles off his tongue and into your ears, a southern rhythm you find sanctuary in. Pushing his dick back into your mouth is all pleasure to him, but it’s a taste of greed for you. 

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

He never takes his pants off, but he strips you naked. His eyes arguably take more than his hands ever will. The bob of his Adam's apple hypnotizes your eyes as you garble a response to his question. Scarcely do you make sense around Joel, or even speak. You don’t think you can remember the last time you held a proper conversation with him, he usually just waits for you to come around.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

And so with your purpose, you push yourself down to the base of him. The waterline of your eyes is welling up fast, distorting your vision of him. You blink up at him like he’ll look down, like you’re more than a mouth. You aren’t, not to him, but you get to admire him like this. The puff of his chest, the swell of his throat, and his hands when they come to rip you off him.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body. 

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles. 

Under the yellow light in Joel’s living room, you feel useful. You’re doing more than surviving in this world. You have a purpose, even if he seldom needs you. He uses the sleeves of his flannel to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks, still mumbling about how sweet you are. Naked, smattered in him, you smile. Glittery eyes meet his and he snorts. 

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases. 

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond. 

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him. 

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs. 

[ashlynlovestlou]

bodyguard! abby anderson x princess! reader (500 followers special)

꩜ synopsis: based on the book "twisted games" by ana huang. you are next in line for the throne, and abby is your bodyguard. only one problem: you can't be with her. you have to marry someone of royal blood, and abby is not. but that won't stop you from being with her. she knows she can't have you, but she's taking you anyways.

꩜ cw: forbidden love trope , reader and abby sneak around , eventual smut (fingering, strap use, multiple orgasms, pet names, spanking, dirty talk, etc) , reader has a brother , afab! reader , fem! reader , bodyguard! abby , semi-public ,

masterlist

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it all started when your brother abdicated. he quite possibly ruined your life the day he fell in love with a flight attendant and decided he didn't want to be king anymore. but you couldn't blame him. he chose love over the throne.

in reality, you could've done the same. not a single part of your body wanted to be queen. too much responsibility and stress, and not enough time to prepare. but everything you do reflects your country, and it would look bad to back out when your brother had done the same.

your grandfather was king, but as he grew older he had to teach your brother, next in line for the throne, how to rule an entire country. he had been preparing to do so for years, but when he met mckenna, he decided he didn't want to. so now, you were next to be queen. and you only had four months to prepare.

you had a dance to attend tonight, because the board decide it would be best for you to marry before coronation. so there you were, sitting on an uncomfortable throne in a room full of men that wish to be your suitor.

"are you paying attention?" a voice to your right says.

another thing. abby fucking anderson. your buff, exponentially attractive bodyguard. you two had a fling before there was this whole drama with your brother, but it soon fizzled out at the reality of the situation. you wanted her, and she wanted you. but the only problem: you can't be with her. she's not of noble blood, so by law, you can't be together.

"i dont need to be. i don't want to marry anyone here." which is almost a lie. you don't want to marry any man here.

abby sighs through her nostrils, her broad shoulders twitching, "c'mon, princess. there's got to be at least one person here that you think is good enough to be your husband."

there wasn't. even abby knew that.

"no thank you." you say with a huff, standing up and straightening out your dress just as another suitor had approached you.

you walk away without another word, abby short on your tail, "where are you going?"

"bathroom." you answer shortly, "i'm fed up with everything and this dress is making it extremely hard not to pee myself."

you excuse yourself for the second time, walking through the marble corridors of the castle while the faint sound of chatter is left in the ballroom. the only sound heard now is the clacking of your heels on the slick floors, the shoes rubbing your feet in the most uncomfortable places.

once in the bathroom you reach behind your back, fumbling with the strings of your corset.

"need some help?" abby questions. you hadn't realized that she followed you.

"i know you're my bodyguard, ms. anderson, but you don't need to follow me in the bathroom."

she chuckles lowly, "we've fucked three times and you still refuse to call me abby, huh?"

a familiar heat rushes to your cheeks.

and somewhere else.

she doesn't wait for an answer before positioning herself behind you, untying the strings for you and giving you immediate relief on your ribs.

"you know how much i hate that i have to watch you dance with other men? how much i hate that their hands are all over you...?"

you swallow, hard, "how much?"

"so much," she begins, "that i want to bend you over that sink and spank your ass raw."

your breath catches in your throat, and you stare at her in the mirror, mouth agape. your heart is hammering against your chest, like it's trying to head-butt itself out.

"take off your dress and spread your legs." she whispers in your ear, to which you comply. you'd be an idiot not to.

once you were stripped of your clothing, the cold air hits your skin and makes you shiver. but the cold doesn't last long before abby is taking you into a sloppy kiss.

"here's what's gonna happen." she says, hands snaking around your body and settling on the plush of your ass, "i don't like seeing you dance with men. so you're going to sit here and let me fuck you like a good girl, alright?"

her fingers slide through your slit. your breath catches for a second time and your body arches towards hers.

you shudder at every word, rutting yourself against her in an attempt to feel friction. she's quick to grab your hips and stop them, pulling a whine from deep within your chest.

"how many men did you dance with?" she demands, her hot breathe hovering on your lips.

"o-only six."

"seven." she corrects you, pinching and pulling on your clit, making you squirm.

"p-please, abby..."

"please what? use your words, princess." she says softly, contradicting her harsh actions.

"please... fuck me already." you plead, bottom lip quivering. your thigh muscles are shaking, and you glance at the pile of discarded clothes on the floor opposite of the counter you're pressed against. your clothes, to be exact. abby is still dressed, but you can see her bulge through her pants. the pants that squeeze her thighs and highlight every muscle. she truly is glorious.

"you wore your strap to the ball?"

she nods her head, taking her hand off your mound and using it to unzip her trousers. you whine at the lack of warmth, the cold air of the bathroom returning to your skin and giving you goosebumps.

"dont worry, sweet girl. once i'm done with you, you'll be sweating." you smirk at this, lifting yourself onto the cold tile counter. you hiss as the temperature hits your bare ass, but abby shuts you up with another kiss, "now stay still. i need to stretch you out before giving you what you really need." she says.

"but i've taken your strap before. it's not that hard."

she laughs at this, "i know you have. but this one's not the same."

your eyebrows raise, but before you can ask what she means her pants and boxers pool around her ankles. this certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

it's much longer and much girthier than than the one she's used on you before. it's even a different color. this one a hot pink, sparkly shade that's enough to force a laugh out of you.

abby giggles in unison, "you like it?" you nod, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her towards you. she's quick to shut that down, "nuh-uh. i told you i've gotta stretch you out first. spread those pretty legs f'me."

you comply easily, spreading them further. she whistles when she sees your twitching, glistening cunt, just weeping and begging for abby to take care of it.

"shit, honey... you think this country knows how wet their queen is right now?"

"but, im not the queen yet— oh!" youre interrupted when abby's middle and ring fingers slide easily into your cunt, your warm walls welcoming her familiar skin. you look down and watch your pussy swallow her up greedily, clenching around her like you're scared she's going to pull away.

"there she is. there's my girl." abby coos, kissing your knee before increasing the speed in which her fingers pump in and out of you.

all that's heard is the sloshing of her fingers in your pussy. the heel of her palm slams against your clit, deliciously stimulating it as your legs begin to shake. abby knows what she's doing, and she loves it.

"gonna look so damn pretty with a crown on your head." she huffs as that familiar coil bubbles up in the depths of your stomach, "s' pretty baby."

a string of moans cascade from your mouth as she pulls her fingers out, letting you have your orgasm on your own. usually she's fuck you through it, but she's not done with you yet.

she grabs the base of the strap, teasing your puffy and swollen folds with it but not putting it in. you whine in protest, but she tuts you in response.

when she finally does push in, however, a strained gasp falls out of your mouth from the stretch of the strap, your hands finding abby's shoulders and squeezing them, "abby— abs— i can't-"

"shh... yes you can. you can take it." she says, letting you adjust before slowly pumping in and out of you, "you can handle being queen but you can't handle this cock?"

"not-" grunt, "queen," grunt, "yet."

she pounds harder and harder, hips slamming against you. your legs are already weak, and you can tell you're going to be bruised tomorrow.

"abby," you say in between breaths, attempting to maintain your composure, "they're going to be wondering where i am."

her hips stutter, but they don't stop. the base of the strap was hitting her clit just right. she was just as close as you are, "shh... almost done. cum with me, baby. c'mon, you can do it."

with only a few more pounds you're both spiraling. you both hope to god nobody is outside the bathroom door, otherwise they would be sure to hear your heavy breathing and tight moans.

once you come down from your high, abby is already tucking her strap back into her tight slacks, the material hugging her thighs beautifully. she helps you dress yourself again in your pretty gown (after she had cleaned you up, of course).

"sorry we have to sneak around, princess. i promise one day we won't have to." she says, pecking a sweet kiss to your temple. without another word, she walks out before you, making sure it doesn't look too suspicious that you were in there together.

you're left with your reality again. you have to go back out there and dance with men that you don't love. a so simple, yet so not, marriage of convenience, when the person that your heart really belongs too has to watch from the sidelines.

but abby was right.

she couldn't have you, but she was taking you anyways.

[icarusredwings]

Part of me thinks that Logan absolutely HATES that he likes Wade. It's really embarrassing for him, and he doesn't understand these feelings, which frustrates him more.

At first, it started off as a casual thing, and now he's getting pissed off because he's smiling and staring at him all the time. His chest feels weird around him (and not because he keeps getting stabbed and shot)

He finds himself being near him more often, almost subconsciously just following wherever he goes. They don't really notice it until about 4 days in when Wade leaves to go on a date with Vanessa and Logan accidently trails him out of the house.

He gets embarrassed and says he's just gonna go home, but instead, Wade tells Vanessa to bring a friend for him, and it becomes one big "double" date. You'd have to be blind not to see the two guys were getting on way more then Logan and vanessa's friend, seeing as for some reason they're both sitting in the same booth and not with their respected dates...

No, he's not rude to her or distrusting of her. If anything, she's quite lovely, but he's talking to her more like a friend than a date. He's more distrusting of himself really and is still trying to learn how to socialize properly. Especially with pretty ladies.

The reason for this is Logan is still nervous about new people touching him, and wants to make a good impression by.. you know... not stabbing her on accident... so he sits with someone he trusts won't mind if he knicks him.

By the end of the night, Logans was so drunk and safe that hes giggling at every little word only to go home by himself feeling... odd because Wade went to Vanessa's. Not jealous, no he knew and helped this happen. He was happy for him. He just felt... odd... being alone again..

Your honor, He has found his pack, and now he's codependent. At least he has mary puppins to cuddle up with.