#but it's nothing too graphic I promise

[itsamenickname]

As promised, here is a sequel/continuation post of my fun little Bowuigi story idea I posted yesterday! (Shoutout to @jelixpo for motivating me to upload the ending of this rough Bowuigi idea (which I'm now calling, "The Secret Alliance,") and to the 30 people who reblogged my previous post and/or gave it a like.)

Enjoy! :)

(Adding a cut here because oh boy I cannot express to you how long this post is.)

******************

So where we last left off, Luigi decides to sneak over to Bowser's Castle (without Mario, Peach, or anyone else knowing) in order to talk Bowser face-to-face (for the first time since Bowser's alliance with King Boo) in hopes of figuring out why he's doing all of these bad things (but also more importantly, convince Bowser to stop turning back into his old self).

However, when Luigi finally arrives at Bowser's Castle, he's actually pretty conflicted on what to do.

Now obviously, he could just go up to the front doors and ask the guards to let him in, but there are some problems that could arise from doing that, the biggest one being there's a strong possibility that Bowser ordered the guards to not let anyone (even him) enter the castle.

And considering the fact that Bowser pretty much shut him out for the past 2 weeks..., yea, going up to the front door may be a no-go for our green-clad plumber.

So it looks like Luigi will have to go with plan B.

And what's plan B you may ask?

Well, breaking and entering into the castle, of course!

Now here is where I should point out that this is where the story starts to get...unpolished, so to speak. When it comes to my WIPs and stories, I want to plan out everything down to the wire. While I fleshed out the first part of this story idea enough to where I'm really happy with it, I should warn y'all that there will be some holes/unfinished parts in this second half of the story (and I'll point them out throughout the post).

The first example of the unpolished parts is the way Luigi actually breaks into the castle.

So with this part of the story, I imagine Luigi scaling up the castle walls with a rope/grappling hook. I don't know if I like the idea of Luigi bringing rope with him (cause I don't know what he would've used it for if he hadn't scaled up the wall) and I don't think Bowser or his minions would be stupid enough to leave a grappling hook hanging out in the open for Luigi to actually use.

Okay, maybe his minions would've been stupid enough to do that, but that's besides the point.

Anyway, Luigi is eventually able to successfully climb up to one of the balconies of the guest rooms and enter that said guest room. While every part of him wants nothing more than to leave the room and look for Bowser, he knows that it ultimately wouldn't be a good idea to go up to his 10-foot turtle-dragon boyfriend without kind of knowing what he wants to say to him.

So Luigi uses this time to think. He takes this time to figure out the things he wants to say to Bowser and try to mentally prepare himself for the reactions Bowser will have upon seeing him for the first time in 2 weeks as well as anything Bowser could possibly throw at him (figuratively, not literally).

But oh boy, do things get instantly terrifying for our poor Luigi because this is when he starts to hear the all-too-familiar ghost laugh that gave him nightmares since that faithful night in Boo Woods.

And fear wouldn't even begin to cover how Luigi felt when he turned around and saw the one and only King Boo.

I cannot emphasize to you how horrified and scared Luigi is upon seeing his nemesis. The green-clad plumber talked to E. Gadd last month and the professor reassured him that King Boo was still trapped in that canister from The Last Resort adventure.

So it was a complete surprise to him when he had the courage to ask King Boo how this was possible.

So here is where King Boo tells Luigi about how he escaped. Funnily enough, the method he used to escape from E. Gadd in this story is the same method he used to escape from E. Gadd back in chapter 1 of TBTBWTK (because as I kind of mentioned in the previous post, this story and TBTBWTK were born around the same time so I was trying to figure out what worked with what).

But that's not what's important here because the more significant part about this interaction is this is when everything clicks for Luigi.

Bowser breaking parts of his and Peach's peace treaty, Bowser essentially cutting off all interactions with everyone (especially Luigi), it all suddenly made so much sense.

Bowser was doing all of this because King Boo was making him do it.

And that was when one sudden thought came to Luigi.

He had to tell Mario and Peach.

Luigi has to tell Mario and Peach that King Boo is the one pulling all the strings in the Dark Lands so that they can save Bowser and his kingdom from King Boo.

And King Boo quickly comes to this same realization too because it wasn't long before he started conjuring up some lightning.

And oh boy did that kicked Luigi's fight-or-flight instincts into high gear real quick as he realized that King Boo was going to kill him right then and there.

So luckily for Luigi, he quickly snaps out of his shock and uses his Thunderhand ability to attack King Boo. While the lightning didn't kill or knock King Boo unconscious, it stuns him long enough to where Luigi makes a break for it. Even though he's not entirely familiar with this section of the castle, he doesn't dwell on that thought for too long as his main goal is to find an exit and/or find Bowser.

So here it kind of turns into a cat and mouse chase scene with Luigi running through the halls of Bowser's castle (and screaming for Bowser or anyone to help him (for some weird reason, he hasn't run into a single minion throughout this entire chase scene, but he doesn't dwell on that for very long) and King Boo chasing him and trying to hit him with fireballs (and his tongue) not too far behind. Eventually, Luigi makes it to the throne room and while there's no one in the said throne room, this doesn't ruin the happiness he felt at that moment because not only does he now know where in the castle he is, but he can also now confidently make a mad dash to the exit.

But here is where Luigi's clumsiness comes into play because this is when Luigi trips and sprains his ankle.

Hard.

With Luigi now pretty much immobilized, King Boo starts to kind of compliment Luigi on how he manages him to surprise him (with the surprise lightening attack and all). Unfortunately, because Luigi knows too much about what's going on (and is secretly worried that the green-clad plumber will ruin the possibility of the MK and the Dark Lands declaring war on each other), King Boo sadly remarks on how he has no other choice but to kill Luigi (should mention that he saids this entire scene sarcastically because like in TBTBWTK, I imagine him being an enormous dick).

So as King Boo shoots a huge fireball at Luigi, the green-clad plumber closes his eyes as he braces for the worse.

But the impact never came.

For some reason, the impact just never came.

And when Luigi eventually gained the confidence to open his eyes again, he quickly finds out why.

Because Bowser actually saved him and used his shell to block King Boo's attack.

To say that both Luigi and King Boo were shocked by Bowser's sudden appearance was a complete understatement, but it wasn't long before King Boo's surprise turned into rage.

Now here is when King Boo gets really angry at Bowser for protecting Luigi when they had an alliance. In response, Bowser angrily breaks off his alliance with King Boo and tells him that if he wants to kill Luigi, he'll have to kill him first.

And oh boy does King Boo quickly take up that offer when he blocks off the exits with spectral gates and starts attacking Bowser.

Now here is where we have a big fight scene between King Boo and Bowser. However, because I'm not good at writing fight scenes, think of King Boo and Bowser's fight similar to Azula and Zuko's fight in ATLA (thank you @jelixpo for the ATLA reminder because that is probably how I would imagine their fight would go).

But after a while, King Boo actually gains the upper hand as he slams Bowser into his throne hard. Bowser actually has a really tough time getting back up on his feet (because King Boo is relentless and determined in making sure he takes Bowser down for good), but he able to look up at King Boo in anger and frustration. (Here I should briefly point out that Bowser received a really bad beating from King Boo during this fight and just looks like absolute hell. He has multiple dark bruises all over his body, he has a black eye, he's pretty sure one of his teeth is loose, and one of his arms may or may not be broken, but he's not sure).

Once King Boo sees that Bowser's looking at him, he then does the usually villain monologue and asks Bowser if he has any last words before he kills him for good.

And actually, Bowser does. He takes one look at something behind King Boo before looking back at the ghost king with a smirk and saying this specific line:

"A good villain is ALWAYS aware of his surroundings."

And before King Boo could figure out what the hell Bowser meant by that, Luigi uses a bat (or some other type of weapon, idk) to hit King Boo like a baseball and sends him flying across the throne room. (Here I should mention that while Bowser and King Boo were fighting, Luigi found the said weapon and not only crawled his way to the weapon, but actually waited until the perfect moment to use that previously mentioned weapon on King Boo).

So with King Boo down and out, Luigi rushes over to Bowser (as best he can given his sprained ankle) to make sure that his boyfriend is okay. Bowser reassures Luigi that he's okay (which Luigi doesn't quite believe due to the fact that Bowser still looks like he went through a meat grinder, but he soon pushes that thought to the side because the most important thing that matters to him right now is the reassuring fact that his boyfriend is now safe and okay and that everything can go back to normal).

Well..., not really.

You see, Luigi and Bowser's wholesome reunion is actually cut short by, you guess it, King Boo and oh boy, anger doesn't begin to cover how the ghost king feels at that moment. He was so close, so fucking damn close, to his ultimate end goal of taking over the Mushroom King/entire world, but to have his plan getting ripped away by the stupid cowardly green plumber who defeated him not once, but three times?!

Oh no, King Boo was NOT going to let that slide. Not this time.

So here is where King Boo uses his magic to rip Luigi out of Bowser's grasp and sends him flying across the room. Luigi slams into the wall hard (and I mean hard) to where he starts to feel blood running down his back (and maybe his head, but I'll leave that up to reader's discretion).

But Luigi doesn't have time to dwell on that right now because this is when King Boo starts attacking him (similar to what he did to Bowser).

So here is where we have a second, but kind of smaller, fight scene but this one is between King Boo and Luigi rather than King Boo and Bowser. Now here, since I'll leave this part of the fight scene up to the reader's discretion (because again, I can't write out fight scenes), what I'll point out here is that Luigi is able to successfully dodge all of King Boo's attacks (but with difficulty because of his sprained ankle). I should also point out that every part of Bowser wants to get up and help Luigi, but because he's still too injured from his fight with King Boo, he can't do much other than watch his boyfriend with fear and worry.

That is, until King Boo manifested a knife and used that said weapon to stab Luigi in the chest.

And oh boy did Bowser's internal animal instincts kick in when he heard his boyfriend's gut-wrenching and painful screams.

But before Bowser could have a chance to tear apart King Boo limb or limb, this is actually where Kamek and Kammy break through the barriers and use their magic to defeat King Boo. Now here is where I will point out the second example of the unpolished parts for one huge reason. You see in this story, I imagine King Boo's defeat as something more permanent in that this is the last time Luigi, Bowser, and co. will ever have to deal with him (basically like a lot of villains (other than Bowser) in the Super Mario franchise, like Dimentio and Princess Shroob, to name a few).

So what that means is that how exactly Kamek and Kammy defeat King Boo (or how King Boo is stopped for good) in this story, I'll leave that up in the air because I only have one idea on how Kamek and Kammy could defeat King Boo, but I'm not really happy with how they defeat him.

But there's no time to worry about the logic behind King Boo defeat because Luigi's loosing a lot of blood very quickly! Bowser, Kamek, and Kammy have to take him to the castle hospital and fast!

______________________

Time skip to the afternoon of the next day where Luigi slowly regains consciousness. While his brain is a little fuzzy at the moment, he can tell that he's in some sort of hospital and it doesn't take him long to feel the bandages around his body and ankle (and possibly head).

However, that is quickly pushed out of Luigi's thoughts when he sees Bowser right by his bedside. (Briefly want to mention that he looks a lot better than yesterday, but he still kind of looks like hell because of the bruises, black eye, and arm cast sling on his shoulder.)

So after the two lovebirds greet each other and make sure they're both okay, this is when Luigi asks Bowser what happened (because he can't exactly remember it right now). While Bowser is very, very hesitant to answer his boyfriend's question, he eventually tells Luigi everything.

From the night King Boo came to visit his castle to when the doctor told Bowser that it's up on Luigi on whether he'll wake up or not after he brought the tiny human to the hospital, Bowser left no stone unturned as he refuses to take his eyes off of Luigi. Once Bowser finishes telling the entire story (and after Luigi takes some time to digest it all), Bowser is quick to apologize for everything he did (and he actually tears up a little during this scene too). He never wanted to break the peace treaty he had with Peach and he especially didn't want to cut off all ties with Luigi, but...he had no choice. Since the very beginning, King Boo threatened to hurt/kill Luigi unless Bowser did whatever King Boo wanted him to do, so Bowser honestly thought that shutting Luigi out was the best way to protect his boyfriend.

And Luigi instantly forgives him (which really shocks Bowser)! In fact, Luigi actually apologizes to Bowser for breaking and entering into the castle in the first place (which Bowser doesn't understand why he needed to apologize for something so small, but he does immediately tell Luigi that he forgives him) and tells Bowser that he is truthfully just really happy that Bowser wasn't permanently going back to his old and evil ways.

But their reunion is cut short when Luigi remembers that today is the 7th day.

And if you recall from the previous post, the 7th day was when Peach was going to declare the treaty null and void and declare war on the Dark Lands.

And considering that Mario and Peach don't know where he is..., you can imagine Luigi's thoughts spiraling into a panic attack when he starts thinking about the terrifying possibility that his disappearance will cause Peach to declare war early.

However, Bowser quickly reassures Luigi with multiple different things. He tells Luigi that he'll write a letter to Peach explaining what happened over the past 2 weeks (and how he still wants to keep the peace treaty between their kingdoms) and will also send a minion to reassure Mario and Peach that Luigi is currently safe and sound at the Dark Lands for good measure.

Now here is the third (and biggest) example of the story having unpolished parts. After Bowser gives Luigi reassurance about telling Mario and Peach about what happened and Luigi's current whereabouts, I don't entirely know where to go from here. If I had to come up with an ending, I would have it end on a positive note where Mario and Peach receive Bowser's note (and got informed by the minion on Luigi's whereabouts) and quickly traveled to the Dark Lands to make sure that Luigi's okay. This is also when Luigi and Bowser reveal their relationship to Mario to Peach and to everyone's shock, Mario is actually okay with it. Okay yea, he's a little hesitant with Bowser (cause he and Bowser have been rivals for years), but he can see how happy Bowser makes him, not to mention that Bowser saving Luigi's life when he didn't have to is obviously a checkmark in Mario's book. (That doesn't stop him from being the protective big brother and threatening Bowser to not hurt Luigi or he'll kick his ass though, haha. XD)

But aside of that, yea, this is pretty much the entire story of The Secret Alliance.

I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who made it this far in the post/story. I know that this post as well as the first post are a lllllllliiiitttttttttlllllllleeeeeeee long (around 3.2k and 2k, respectively), so I sincerely appreciate you guys taking the time to read this all the way to the end. As I've said in the previous post, if anyone wants to do something with this idea, then by all means go right ahead (just let me know if you have something with the idea so that I can see it). :) This is probably the last time I'll ever touch with this specific story idea, but hey, it's at least now out in the open for all of Tumblr to see instead of hidden away in my computer files.

Thank you all again for your support and I'll see you in my next Bowuigi post. :)

Okay, so do you guys remember how I talked about how both @jelixpo and @deckof-dragons/@anomander-dragnipurake inspired me to write my story, To Break the Bonds Within Two Kingdoms back in the Ao3 chapter 11 notes?

Well, what if I told you that there was another Bowuigi story idea I had in mind while brainstorming TBTBWTK?

That's right, what you are about to read is another rough Bowuigi story idea I had that actually originated back in late April-early May 2022 (right around the same time TBTBWTK was first born). While I ended up choosing TBTBWTK to flesh out and actively work on, I felt bad for keeping this WIP hidden within my computer files for almost an entire year (okay, I kind of told one person about this idea back in mid-November 2022, but it wasn't to the extent of what you're about to see).

And since the Mario movie is coming out today, I thought what better way to celebrate the momentous occasion than by sharing this fun little Bowuigi story idea? :)

Also, before I forget, if anyone wants to do something with this idea, then by all means go for it. (Just let me know if you have done something with the idea so that I can see it.) :) As I just mentioned, this was something I've thought of back in early-mid 2022, but because I want to not only finish TBTBWTK, but also work on a second (and bigger) Bowuigi story after TBTBWTK is done, I figured that it would be better to at least share this rough WIP/idea than to leave it in my computer files for no one else but myself to see.

Anyway, I apologize in advance for the extremely long post (and for any grammatical errors), but I hope you guys like the idea all the same! :D

(Adding a cut here to help make this post shorter.)

***********

Okay, so imagine a time in the Mushroom Kingdom where Bowser is living a good life. He and Peach recently signed a peace treaty together (and by recently, I mean like 1 month ago), not to mention that he's been dating Luigi for about 6 months now and has never been happier (per Luigi's request, they are keeping their relationship a secret which Bowser doesn't mind at all).

But on one mysterious night in the Dark Lands, Jerry (yes, the same Jerry from TBTBWTK) informs Bowser that he has a surprise visitor waiting for him in the throne room. Well, this didn't make much sense to the Koopa King. If it was Luigi, Mario, or even Peach, Jerry would've explicitly told him, but the fact that the Hammer Bro. not only refused to elaborate about the visitor, but also seemed kind of hesitant and nervous when Bowser asked for more info about the said mysterious visitor? That just seemed really weird to Bowser.

And oh boy was he right when he stepped into the throne room and saw the one and only King Boo.

Now, even though Bowser wanted nothing more than to kick the ghost king out of his kingdom, Luigi's kindness actually rubbed off on him just enough to where he instead angrily asked King Boo why the hell he's here. When Luigi talked to E. Gadd last month, the professor said that the ghost king was still trapped in that canister from the adventure of The Last Resort, so it didn't make much sense that the ghost king who he thought was trapped is floating right in front of him.

So King Boo explains to Bowser about his new plan. He rants on and on about how he is just so sick and tired of getting defeated and captured over and over again, so King Boo devised a new plan. He figures out that the best way to defeat the Mario Bros. (especially Luigi) and take over the Mushroom Kingdom/rest of the world is by teaming up with Bowser. Sure, King Boo understands that Bowser may not have a good track record when it comes to defeating Mario, but he figured that as long as Bowser distracts Mario and Peach just long enough, King Boo could use that stall to trap Luigi in a painting.

Bowser, of course, shoots down the idea. He explains to King Boo how he just recently signed a peace treaty with Peach and he doesn't want to do anything that would break Mario, Peach, and especially Luigi's trust (although he doesn't mention Luigi to King Boo). And even if he and Peach hadn't signed a peace treaty, he has very well learned from his past mistakes and knows deep down that Mario and Luigi can, and will, easily defeat both of them.

But before Bowser can leave the throne room, King Boo manages to stop him in his tracks by explaining how he knows that he and Luigi are dating.

King Boo also blackmails Bowser by saying that if Bowser doesn't agree to team up with him, he won't hesitate to posses Bowser and force him to kill Luigi with his own hands.

As much as Bowser wanted to call on King Boo's bluff, he's inwardly really scared to. If King Boo was making threats to him, Mario, Peach, or anyone else (should point out that the Koopalings & Jr. don't exist in this timeline, but I'll leave that up to reader's discretion), Bowser wouldn't care about the idea of King Boo possessing him. But King Boo was making an indirect threat to Luigi, the one person Bowser would not hesitate to lay his life down for. If anything were to happen to the love of his life, it would kill the Koopa King (no matter if it was his fault or not).

So Bowser grudgingly agrees to King Boo's plan as the ghost king is excited to finally set his plan into motion. But before he forgets, King Boo mentions one little important thing:

This new alliance they have has to be a secret. No one, not even Kamek and Kammy, can know about it. Everyone has to believe that whatever is about to happen is Bowser's ideas and his ideas alone.

And if anyone finds out about their alliance/plan on their own (or if Bowser tells anyone about their plan), King Boo will kill Luigi himself and force Mario and Bowser to watch.

_________________

So time skip to around 2 weeks later where Bowser has caused so many problems to the MK to the point to where Peach is sick of it. She sets up a royal meeting with herself, Mario, Luigi, Toadsworth, and the royal court about what they should do with Bowser. The royal court is honestly spilt on either declaring war on the Dark Lands (they have a justifiable reason to declare war because Bowser has broke parts of the peace treaty) or try to reach out to Bowser and meet with him peacefully.

Eventually, the arguments get so stressful and out of hand that Peach gets mad (and I mean really fucking mad) and orders the royal court to let her, Mario and Luigi discuss this in private. While the royal court (especially Toadsworth) are hesitant on this, they eventually follow her orders and leave the brothers and Peach alone in the room. When it's finally just the three of them, Peach just takes this time to calm down and take a few deep breaths (which Mario and Luigi don't mind and allow her to take as much time as she needs).

Once she is really to talk about it again, she explains to Mario and Luigi how she is kind of dead set on declaring war on the Dark Lands. As a few Toads pointed out earlier in the meeting, Bowser broke parts of the peace treaty, not to mentioned that she had actually privately reached out to him on multiple occasions, but has never received as response back.

Now Luigi (who had been mostly quiet throughout the entire meeting due to his anxiety and his tough decision on whether to stand by Peach or Bowser's side) tries to defend Bowser by explaining how both the MK and the Dark Lands had worked on the peace treaty for almost 3 months (not to mention that they've officially signed it last month) and theorizes that there has to be a reason that Bowser is causing so much trouble that they don't know about. Luigi begs Peach to give him time to talk to Bowser before she decides to declare war on Bowser's kingdom.

Now here, I should point out that both Peach and Mario know that Luigi and Bowser are friends, but they don't know that they're dating. So obviously, when Luigi begs Peach to let him talk to Bowser, Mario (being the protective older big brother that he is) hates the idea. He still doesn't trust Bowser and is afraid that allowing Luigi to talk to Bowser (especially right now) will ultimately get his little brother hurt or worse, killed (it would destroy Mario if anything happened to Luigi).

But despite Mario's protests, Peach makes a deal with Luigi: He has one week to talk to Bowser and make him change his ways. If Luigi succeeds, then she won't declare war on the Dark Lands. However, if he fails, Peach will declare the treaty null and void and declare war on Bowser's kingdom.

So over the course of the next 5 days, Luigi tries to reach out to Bowser in multiple ways. He tries to write him letters, meet at their usual spot on the usual days they hang out together, little things like that. However, none of his ideas work. Now, that's not to say that Bowser hadn't received Luigi's letters. In fact, Bowser has actually received every single one of his boyfriend's letters (at one instance, Bowser started to tear up as he carefully touched Luigi's handwriting, which led to King Boo taunting him on whether he should respond to Luigi's letter or not.), but...Bowser is honestly scared. He wants to tell Luigi that he hates doing what he's doing, he wants to tell Luigi about King Boo's ultimate plan to take over the MK and the rest of the world, but...he can't. He doesn't want to put Luigi in any form of danger, so he figured that the best way to keep Luigi safe is by completely shutting him out.

But that kind of backfires on Bowser because on the afternoon of the 6th day, Luigi gets a new idea.

He gets the idea to sneak over to Bowser's Castle (without Mario, Peach, or anyone else knowing) and talk to Bowser face-to-face (for the first time since Bowser's alliance with King Boo) in hopes of forcing his boyfriend to talk about why he's doing all of these bad things.

But as for what happens when Luigi finally arrives at Bowser's Castle?

Well, I'll leave that up to you. ;)

[evermorepeyton]

i didnt even know what to screenshot from this chapter (it’s different from the others so im sorry, but i felt it was important to the story)

anyway, chapter 14 of my dnp F1 au fic is up 🏎️🏎️🏎️🤍🤍🤍✨

[sukunasweetheart]

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna...

warnings!!! dark content, noncon breeding, dubcon, sukuna ties your hands together, baby trapping, toxic, possessive and jealous sukuna, manipulative tendencies and mentions of violence (not towards reader), oral (f!receiving)

divider by @/saradika-graphics

3.8k words

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who'd always coax you into fucking him bareback without a condom because he swears it feels better...

being so sweet, seducing you into letting him hit it raw, doing whatever it takes to put you in a good mood, get you hot and bothered so you can't deny him for long, swearing that he'd pull out, and that you'd have nothing to worry about...

but scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who never kept his word. he'd fuck you silly and cum deep into your womb, even though he promised he wouldn't. you wanted to stop him, but you were feeling too good in the moment to fight him off. when you confront him about it afterwards, he simply tells you "my bad, sweetheart. i didn't mean to, but you just felt too good..."

he gets high off the feeling of cumming inside you.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who secretly wished he could fuck you pregnant with his seed. but you told him you didn't want a baby, which he disappoints him, though he may not show it. he wants to see your belly swell up with his child, and to suck on your sweet milk when your tits start leaking. fuck, just the thought of it had made him get hard.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't take you seriously when you broke it off with him. you could see it in his eyes sometimes, the way he seemed eerily quiet when your pregnancy tests turned out with only one line. you felt glad you'd taken those birth control pills behind his back. but you decided enough was enough. you loved him, but you just didn't want to have a child with him.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't even seem phased by the break up. he believed he could coax you back to him again, given with some time. you are his, and nothing will change that. when he sees you around, he shamelessly flirts with you and tries to convince you to come back to him, telling you that he misses you dearly. there are times when he almost succeeds, only because you do miss him sometimes too.

a few weeks into the break up, you truthfully, begin to feel a little sexually frustrated. you don't recall having such a high sex drive before getting with sukuna, but he seems to have permanently altered your body, the way he used to pleasure you so good...

you gather some friends and head into a club, and try to forget about him.

at the club, you re-familiarise yourself with the smell of alcohol in the air, the music that hurts your eardrums, and the crowd of people all around you, wherever you went. it's been a while since you've been here, because you had been with sukuna for over two years now.

an hour or two passes, and you've gotten yourself fairly tipsy at the bar now.

you sync yourself up with the music, but a familiar figure catches your attention from the second floor of the club, afar. it's sukuna. but he's not looking at you.

he's standing with his ex-girlfriend - the one that had gotten hysterical with you after she'd found out about your relationship with him. your mood plummets, for some reason.

you're the one that broke up with him. it shouldn't matter what he's up to after that. liar. you told me you missed me. you try to ignore him, and continue drinking yourself drunk, the edges of your vision already swimming.

sukuna's at the club, only because a friend of his snitched on you and told him that you were out here somewhere. he didn't think he'd meet yorozu, out of everyone it could've been.

"hi, ryo. i heard you'd finally broken up with that girl?" she asks sweetly, standing as close to him as possible.

sukuna gives her a deadpan stare.

"broken up? says who?"

"well, everyone. don't tell me you're pathetically clinging onto her now? that's not like you."

"i'm not you. now get lost, i'm busy."

yorozu grabs his hand, stopping him from walking away.

"wait! i just wanna tell you..."

she continues talking, but his attention has already drifted elsewhere, as his eyes pan toward the crowd downstairs. now...where are you? when he does manage to find you in the crowd downstairs, he doesn't like what he sees. that's an understatement. he hates it.

you're swaying your hips with some other bastard, making out with him on the dance floor.

"damn- you're so fuckin' hot," the stranger chuckles against the shell of your ear, your arms around his neck.

"am i really?" you respond giggling, clearly intoxicated.

"yeah, you are... why don't you come home with me?"

"hmmm? sure, why not? 'm single now, anyway," you mumble, your feet now beginning to stumble. you're starting to miss him again.

"broke up with your boyfriend, did you? poor thing."

"i'll help you feel better." the man grins and helps you walk outside of the club.

on his way out however, he bumps into someone of a large frame. he's all tatted up, and his gaze is holding a mean glare as he stares down at him. he holds out his hand to him, like he's asking for something.

"hand her over, and i won't beat you to death."

oh. he must be the ex. that was enough for the man to quietly place your body into sukuna's arms and exit the club.

tch, he's as spineless as he looks.

sukuna handles your limp body with care, your breath pungent with the smell of alcohol. he's irritated to no end right now, and a vein is bulging from his forehead, but he safely carries you to his car.

outside, the man thinks he's clear of danger, and decides he's had enough for the night. but, someone's heavy arm comes down around his shoulders suddenly.

"hey. you're the one that played it too close with sukuna's girl? how unlucky of you," a man with a scar on his lip talks nonchalantly.

he gets dragged into a nearby alleyway.

"don't take it personally. i got paid to do this."

the man shrieks as he gets beaten to a pulp, just enough so it hurts like hell, but not enough to kill him. sukuna likes to keep his word.

meanwhile... you're taken to your own home. he found the keys to your house in your purse. sukuna tucks you into your own bed, and even dresses you into your own pajamas. and then...

he just leaves.

-

the next morning - you don't remember a thing. you're left feeling confused, wondering how you managed to get home and how you were even sober enough to get yourself dressed. the only thing you can recall is seeing sukuna with his ex, and then making out with some random guy on the dance floor. everything else is blacked out.

you ask your friends, but they were also too busy getting wasted to know what happened to you. but you feel fine physically, so you brush the incident off.

now the only thing bothering you... sukuna hasn't contacted you again ever since you witnessed him and yorozu talking. so he must've gone back to her. that makes you feel... irritated. upset. sad, even. even though you wanted to break things off first.

you slowly start getting back to your normal daily life again, although with a heavy heart. only change is, that you can't seem to find your birth control pills, wherever you last put them. you contemplate for a moment, wondering whether you should buy a new pack, but you end up shrugging it off, knowing that you won't really need them in the meantime anyway...

you're trying to get back into what life was like before you met sukuna. falling back into bad diet habits, staring at your phone, going back and forth between unblocking and blocking sukuna's number - wondering if he's texted you again in the meantime - but of course, there is nothing new.

he may have had his toxic traits, but you knew he loved you a lot... he cooked you wonderful meals and spoiled you with gifts and knew how to make you orgasm until you couldn't speak. and he was tender with you, even though he teased you a lot.

and now, you're back to using toys to satisfy yourself... it's always like this! you start thinking about him and your hand begins to wander down - you can only hope that you'll eventually lose these feelings soon.

you decide to head out and go on a shopping spree alone, to distract yourself from your thoughts and maybe lift your spirits up.

spending a lot of money for yourself always feels nice. you're buying a lot of cute clothes, accessories and food, jumping between shop to shop. the sun sets rather quickly, and by now, you're at your final stop, mulling over whether this expensive, but beautiful bracelet and necklace set is worth buying. your impulse gets the better of you and you ask for it to be packaged for you.

you reach for your wallet to pay with your card, but someone's familiar voice rings out beside you as he approaches.

"i'll pay for the set." sukuna already has his credit card out, and is handing it to the store clerk, using a tone that makes him difficult to question.

"...sukuna?" you say quizzically, his name slipping from your lips without thinking.

the clerk scans his card, and your items are already paid for.

"what are you doing here..." you ask him, with mixed feelings running around in the pit of your stomach.

"missed me?" he asks with a smirk, very naturally taking your multiple shopping bags from your hand. "i just happened to be in the area."

you're not sure if you believe him. just when you're about to ask him something again, he guides you out of the store with his hand on your shoulder.

"i thought you got back with your ex," you say, taking your bags back from his hand. "i'm sure she'll be upset if she sees you here with me."

"what? where did you get that nonsense from?" he seems genuinely confused.

"i saw you at the club, by coincidence. you were talking with her."

oh... he didn't realise you'd noticed him back there.

"oh, sweetheart... that was a coincidence. i wasn't planning on meeting her. did you really believe that i'd get back with that woman?"

you shouldn't be feeling relieved to such an extent... but your shoulders loosen up after hearing that.

"well... you stopped contacting me after i last saw you with her. of course i'd start believing it."

"oh? i thought you had my number blocked. were you anticipating my texts? you missed me, after all." sukuna leans in closer to you, smiling cockily.

you should have just kept your mouth shut...

"i'll take you home. you have a lot of luggage, no?" sukuna offers, taking your bags back from your hand.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you know you're supposed to decline here. but you let your feelings get the best of you... and end up letting him lead you to his car.

he was supposed to just quickly drop you off home.

"you have a lot of stuff. i'll help you carry it home," sukuna gave his excuse, with something more sly hiding in his eyes. you know exactly what he wants. but when he insists so strongly, you can't deny him. like the fool you are.

you unlock your door and he comes inside to put your bags down on the floor at the entrance. and as you had expected, he doesn't leave right away. instead, he looks down at you with a coy smile, while you return the gaze with a more standoffish one. the tension feels thick and heavy as neither of you speak for a moment.

"well? i'm sure you didn't let me in without knowing my intentions..." sukuna moves forward and closer to you, hands very naturally finding their way to your waist.

he leans down slowly and offers you a brief kiss, a very light and short one, like he's testing the waters. he scans your face for your response. your lips feel all tingly. and all he sees is that you're not pushing him away.

"we shouldn't..." you whisper, but your resolve is too weak. you can't tell him to go away, much less kick him out of your home.

"i know."

in truth, he doesn't really. why should he be separate from you? you belong to him. he pulls you in for a deeper kiss. and you just let it happen.

and, lord, he smells and tastes divine. there's a reason why you always forgave him despite his scummy behaviour when it came to using protection. though you ended up breaking him off, you wonder if it'll be different if you give him another chance.

he wastes no time in lifting you into his arms like you weigh nothing, and heads off to your bedroom, before you can change your mind. you comply, holding onto his strong embrace weakly, having missed this kind of treatment.

when you're laid onto your own bed, sukuna smirks again as he cages you between his arms.

"you're being so obedient. must've regretted breaking up with me-?"

pulling him in with a hand to the back of his neck, you shut him up with another demanding kiss, not letting him speak for long. sukuna groans as you slip your tongue into him, initiating something messier than what the both of you were doing before.

he's quick to unzip your skirt and side it off, along with your panties. in desperation, he doesn't take the time to fully get you naked and instead, pushes your shirt and bra up to fondle your jutting breasts. sukuna then peels his own jacket and shirt off.

"spread your legs for me, sweetheart. i'll spoil you tonight."

you part your legs slowly - and he sees that you're already glistening with slick. bringing his face down, he aims straight for your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it entirely. your back arches as you gasp, the warm and wet feeling being so arousing like nothing else in this world.

you feel the tip of his tongue flicker up and down your clitoris in a mesmerising rhythm - knowing exactly what you want, and need to reach your orgasm. and the way he sucks on you with the correct amount of pressure, while making the lewdest noises, forcing your hips to stutter uncontrollably against his mouth, with the way it feels so mind numbing, is just too much in its own way.

you let your erotic moans ring out, because you know he loves it when you show him how good you're feeling - and your hands can't help but hold onto his hair from the intense pleasure, which he never seem to flinch from.

the first orgasm hits you like a truck, with the way you're left breathless and gasping for air as your legs reflexively try to close up - sukuna has to hold them apart with his strong grip as he continues tonguing you even as you're cumming, your cunt thrumming against his lips.

"o-ooh- fuck-! sukuna!" you plead, your blank gaze meeting the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, hips jolting without restraint.

when he does eventually show mercy and remove his mouth from your poor aching clit, you're already on the brink of sobbing, your legs down to your toes feeling all prickly from the overstimulation. your mind is in a haze.

so much so, that you didn't realise that he had bound your wrists to the bed frame until he was already done with it.

"wha- sukuna...? why're you tying me up-?" you question, still a little out of it from your last orgasm.

"shh, love. it's not like this is the first time...relax," sukuna comforts you, caressing your face. you can't help the small uneasiness from growing in your stomach. he suddenly gives your clit a light slap. it startles you a bit, and you gasp.

"you're so pretty. do you know that?"

you see your own reflection in his ringed eyes. your heart races, and you don't know if it's because you're flustered or terrified.

"i just wanna..."

his cock aches in his pants.

he never finishes his sentence. instead, he just offers you a soft, yet sloppy kiss.

sukuna frees his erection, and sighs in relief. it's all messy and leaky with precum. he lines it up against your wet and puckering cunt. you won't deny that you want it...

"sukuna... condom..." you remind him gently, getting slightly nervous from the way he's rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

"... 'm sorry sweetheart. i don't think i can do that."

he pushes his hips in one go, and you're left gasping from the sudden intrusion. you're immediately pushed into a mating press.

sukuna groans from how he immediately feels your wet walls sucking him in, your slick making his cock glisten as he thrusts in and out. he's missed this so, so much.

"fuck- sukuna! you can't- oh my g-god..." your hands tug at your bindings as you try and resist your moans from coming out of your throat, but the way his dick satisfies your cunt is otherworldly, his tip kissing your cervix, over and over again.

"that's it, baby... just enjoy yourself," he urges you on, getting breathless from his own fast pace, cock pulsating inside of you in excitement. god, you always drive him crazy.

still, in the back of your mind you still have a sliver of trust in this man. foolishly so. surely he'll pull out at the last second. surely he won't cum inside you in this situation. it's been a while since you stopped being on the pill.

your bed creaks from how roughly sukuna pounds your pussy, all while groaning with such shamelessness, only caring about the pleasure that is found from the warmth and wetness of your puckering hole.

"fuuck... fuck! to think you were gonna let some other bastard do this to you..." he growls under his breath, brows furrowing. you don't hear him. he remembers his original motive for all of this. to remind you who you truly belonged to.

"ooh-! sukuna! you're being too rough..." you whine, feeling the pressure of an incoming orgasm already building in your abdomen.

he only grips your hips harder, looking down at you with a toothy smile. his dick aches so badly. he's endured through so much patience just for this moment.

your mind goes blank as you forget about the fact that he's not wearing a condom, drool spilling out the side of your mouth from the pleasure you feel as his girthy dick drills in and out of you, a squelching noise happening everytime he sinks himself in. there's the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your ass. and also the friction from his pants, that he hasn't bothered to fully take off. the juices from your cunt has dampened them, but sukuna couldn't care less right now.

"sweetheart... my love... take- taking me s-so well..." sukuna groans, panting and words slurred. despite the deeply affectionate words, his hips move like an animal. you can't do anything but moan and cry.

sukuna feels himself getting high again. there's just something about you... god, he's so pussydrunk he can't even think properly. only the thought of breeding you is on his mind. make you his, completely. to see your belly get bigger from his seed... a powerful thrum goes to his cock and he shudders again.

he has to make it take, this time.

"i'm gonna cum," he tells you breathlessly, knowing you won't be able to stop him, this time around.

"sukuna!... wait," you protest, weakly tugging at your binds again, but you can't say anything more than that, as his lips come down onto yours, silencing you effectively. he tongue kisses you roughly, desperate and messy as you can feel his laboured breaths on you.

and the final thrust that he gives, where he pushes his dick in so deeply, tip meeting your cervix, sends you into another trembling orgasm. sukuna groans deeply against your mouth as he cums, hips stuttering against yours, eyes shut tightly as he savours you completely. you take your lips off of his, and try to say, "stop...! no- pull out," but he stops you with another kiss.

you sob, because it's over. but you're also sobbing because it feels so good.

sukuna's deep kiss trails down to the crook of your neck.

"you can't tell me to pull out... when your cunt is... seducing my cock like this..." he shivers between phrases, mumbling against your neck, mind all hazy from the way you pulse around him from your orgasm, milking his dick as spurt after spurt of his seed shoots straight into your womb.

you can't even say anything back to him - you're coming off your high as he empties his balls into you, letting out more than usual. you're done for.

"i hate you," you sob.

"i know you don't really mean that. you can't live without me," sukuna tells you, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead afterwards.

"and the same applies to me. i'll never let anyone else have you."

he begins to litter kisses down again, until he reaches your chest, while his cock is still inside you. his soft lips caress your tits, and then he begins to lather his tongue around your stiffened nipples, making you feel good again, even through the tears.

the night is far from over.

sukuna becomes much more gentle and soft after the first time, opting for slower but deeper thrusts this time around, adding plenty of little kisses in between as well, "loving" you with everything he has. you have no choice but to accept all of him, as he cums inside of you over and over again.

his cock is in its own haven, being trapped in your gummy walls without rest. and at some point, sukuna's even released your wrists, and now you're willingly making love to him with your arms around his neck, coping with the thought that resisting doesn't even matter anymore - it's already too late, and you're tired of trying to fight back.

you can't count how many times he's dumped his load into you, how many times he's said "i can't get enough of you," how many times you've kissed him back when he kisses you.

and when he finally does eventually pull out, his semen oozes out of you in a disgusting amount. you're spent, and completely exhausted. you can't help your heavy eyelids from closing up, and the last thing you hear is his soft voice.

"goodnight, sweetheart. i'll take care of everything, from now on. i promise."

he holds you so closely and lovingly that you believe him.

Masterlist

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 38: Shattered

Summary: Things aren't okay. They never will be again.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,520 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, medical stuff, injuries, brief description of a possible death, language, mention of weight loss due to medical stuff, emotionally heavy chapter (again), slightly graphic imagery, illness, so much crying

A/N: I just want to make something very clear here since there's a scene in this chapter that might be interpreted this way, but 'mega is NOT suicidal. That's not something that's going to be in this fic, and neither is self-harm. It would have been well warned in advance if that was going to be something coming up in this fic. She's struggling a lot, but she's not suicidal, she's not going to become suicidal, nor will she self-harm even off screen. So don't worry. That's not what's happening. It won't be happening.

Okay, just wanted to make that clear. Enjoy the suffering!

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

The scream slices through the silence seconds before chaos erupts. 

John is on his feet and out the door before Kyle is even fully awake. Simon is on his heels down the stairs, the two of them nearly colliding in their rush. His heart thuds in his chest as he sees your door open, the overhead light on. It’s bad. It must be bad if the overhead light is on. You hate the overhead light. 

He barrels in like a bull, ready to fight. The screaming has stopped, but it still rings in his ears. The fear, the panic. Something has happened. Someone got in. He should have made you take the room upstairs. He should have put a barrier between you and the door. That window. Someone could break that easily and grab you before they even noticed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

The screaming has stopped, but gut-wrenching sobs have taken its place. He takes a moment to scan the room. Nothing is misplaced. The window isn’t broken, there’s no bodies, no one that shouldn’t be in there. 

“You’re okay.” Christine soothes you as you sob. “It was just a nightmare.” 

The bright fluorescent overhead light burns his eyes as he stands there, staring at the bed. Christine is right there, having beaten them across the living room, or perhaps she had already been in there, having heard you in your distress before they could. You're tucked in her arms, your face against her shoulder as she holds you. 

Nightmare. 

The safety and security the cottage promised has faded, leaving you at the mercy of the horrors your mind can conjure up in your sleep. Something twists deep in John’s stomach as he turns, motioning for the others to back up and give you some space. You won’t want them there, and things will only get worse if you notice them. 

His heart is still thudding in his chest as he stands there, the sharp sound of your scream still ringing in his ears despite his confirmation of your safety. The other three look just as startled as he feels, standing there tensely in the dark living room. He brings himself to move, turning his back on them for a moment to try and gather his thoughts as he flips on the lamp in the corner. It casts a warm light across the living room, far too warm for how he’s feeling. He’s trying not to panic, trying not to be sick on the floor from the worry. His heart is in his throat, trying to choke him. He’s trying so hard to be strong, not just for him, but for his pack, for you. 

He sinks down on one of the couches, rubbing a hand over his face. He had been so sure something had happened, that their safe little bubble had been breached and someone knew about their whereabouts. He had been so sure someone was trying to hurt you with a scream like that. 

Maybe someone was, but not in reality. 

What is it you dream about now? Your nightmares about your father and your traumatic presentation must seem like nothing now compared to what must haunt your mind. Do you dream of Graves and his torture? Do you dream of them leaving you behind? Do you dream of dying because of their failures? 

A hand settles on his shoulder, a body sinking onto the couch next to him. Arms are wrapping around him, easing him against a solid chest. 

He’s crying. 

He didn’t even realize the tears had started flowing. 

He can hear the reverberating voice in his head, yelling at him, telling him not to show such weakness in front of his pack, in front of his team. He’s supposed to be the strong one, he’s supposed to be the stable one keeping the pack afloat and steady. Yet here he is, breaking down in front of them. 

“It’s okay.” 

Kyle. 

His sweet Kyle. 

How he’s been neglecting his sweet beta, and yet, how willing Kyle still is to reach out and comfort him in such a time of visible distress. That’s what betas are supposed to do. Mediate and balance the emotions of the pack. How have they been coping with all of this? How have Kyle and Johnny been managing in such a time of disarray and upheaval? Have they been managing it? He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t even know the state of his pack, of the members of his team. 

What a failure he is. 

He lets himself lean against Kyle, something filling his chest as Kyle’s soft scent seeps into his senses. He’s projecting it, not just for John but also for the whole room. Johnny is crying too, soft sobs tearing from his chest as he sits on the other couch. Simon is on his knees in front of him, trying to get him calmed and breathing. 

They’ve been ignoring and denying each other for days, fraying the bonds further while trying so hard not to. The pain they’ve been causing in their emotional constipation and intentional neglect is almost worse than the pain caused by their infighting. At least fighting they were feeling something. At least fighting they weren’t cutting each other off so willingly. 

“We can’t do this anymore.” He says, his voice thick and shaky from his tears. “Cutting each other off. It’s not helping anything.” He doesn’t move from where he’s tucked against Kyle’s chest, letting the comfort wash over him for the first time in a week and a half. 

How he’s missed this. 

“It’s not doing any good for any of us.” Simon says, shifting onto the couch next to Johnny. 

“Especially not our omega.” Kyle says, voicing the thought flashing through all of their minds. 

“We may not be able to do much to help her right now, but we can focus on each other. That is something we can do.” John swallows thickly, his alpha starting to come back to life, his instincts aware again as he stares at Johnny and Simon. “Doing nothing isn’t good for any of us. We need to have something to focus on, something tangible we can do. Denying each other comfort isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I full-heartedly agree.” 

John whips around, Christine standing in front of your closed door. He hadn’t even noticed her enter the room, hadn’t sensed her standing behind them. Johnny and Simon are the only two that don’t look startled, but they must have seen her come out from their position facing your door. 

“Sorry.” The corner of her lip twitches up in a smirk. “Thought you would have noticed.” 

John clears his throat. “How is she?” 

“Settled again.” Christine says, moving over to the chair. 

“How long has she been having nightmares?” Kyle asks. 

“Since that first day in the med center in Dallas.” She says, sinking into the chair. How heavy this must all be on her shoulders. “I’d almost call them more sleep hallucinations. Mostly of Graves. Seeing him in the room, being attacked by him.” 

“Is there anything that can be done to help?” John asks. 

“For these kinds of nightmares? Not really.” Christine folds her hands in her lap. “Her brain is trying to process what happened. Until she feels safe enough to truly begin working on processing the trauma, it’s likely the nightmares will continue.” 

“Is there anything we can do to help her feel safe?” Kyle says. 

Christine’s lips purse as she looks between the four of them. “I’m not sure any of you could do anything right now directly, at least. She’s not open to that yet. Working on your bonds with each other, though, could help her omega finally settle and allow her emotions to even out again. That can help her feel safer, remove that instability and the fear of losing control again.” 

All of them share looks, John and Simon staring at one another. They hadn’t even thought about that. Well, at least he hadn’t. Christine had told him months ago that omegas need their alpha when they distress, when their omega takes over. They can come back from it with the help of an alpha...their alpha. Without one, the chances of survival were slim. Yet here you are, trying to do it all on your own. Having to do it all on your own. 

That ache in his chest starts again as he stares at Simon. He sent Simon after you, he made Simon go through that process of seeing you in that state and scruffing you. He made Simon be the one to help you through that. He made Simon be there when you needed an alpha most because he couldn’t face the fact that he abandoned you, he left you behind like you were nothing but another faceless soldier. 

He wipes his face as the tears start falling again. He truly is a failure of an alpha. 

Despite Christine’s reassurances, John can’t help the automatic reaction to your screams. On his feet instantly, his heart pounding in his chest ready to fight bare handed whatever might be causing such a reaction. Whoever might be causing such a reaction. He can’t fight the demons in your head, though, and he’s always greeted by the sight of Christine by your side, comforting you as best she can. 

He wants to hate her, wants to be angry at her for taking his place, doing what he should be doing. His alpha scratches at his mind every time he sees her by your side, giving you comforts he should be giving, but it’s his fault. It’s his fault she’s the one there with you. It’s his fault you’re suffering so much. Those thoughts send his alpha crawling back into its cage with its tail between its legs. 

It doesn’t matter the time of day, whether it was a nap or the middle of the night, your screams have a pain throbbing deep in his chest. His heart is constantly racing, waiting for that rush of adrenaline at the sound of your terrified scream, at that rush of instinct to protect and fight. He’s not sure how much his heart can take. 

He might have a heart attack by the end of their stay at the cottage. 

That’s something he’s been trying not to think about. 

They can’t stay here forever, no matter how much he knows you’ll want to, how much the others will want to. Eventually they’ll begin to go stir-crazy, itching for something to do. They still have jobs, and Kate can only keep them off the radar for so long, and can only give so many excuses. Eventually they’ll have to go back. Eventually they’ll have to make that decision of what comes next. 

He’s going to delay that as much as he possibly can. 

They can’t go back while Shepherd is still out there. They can’t trust that anywhere is safe while he’s still skulking around, while he still has contacts that could put them all in danger. That could put you in danger. 

That’s not a risk he’s willing to take again. 

But what comes next? 

What will they decide to do? Can they go back, knowing what the inevitable will be? Can they take that risk of having to leave you again, put you through that constant fear and worry that they might not come back? What if they all leave again? Could you survive the fear that something might happen while they’re away again? Not to them, but to you? 

Could they leave you alone again? 

Those are thoughts for another day when they’re inevitably faced with the fact they have to return to society and their lives and jobs. 

They have time. 

He has to make sure you’re okay first. 

You’re not okay.

You’re so very far from okay. 

The bedside lamp is on, casting a golden glow around the room. 

There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. 

It’s one of the rare times you’ve woken before you can react, before you can scream and alert everyone in the house that you’ve had a nightmare. They’ll all come running. All of them. 

You hate it. 

You hate the nightmares, you hate the fear, you hate the constant pain and worry and the constant knowledge that your pack is right there. They want to go back to how things were, they want things to go back to normal, but they can’t. They expect you to forgive them, to go back to loving them, but how can you after everything? 

They left you. 

They let this happen to you and they just want you to pretend like nothing happened. That’s what they would do. Go back to normal life after being tortured and forget it all happened because that’s what they do. 

You’re not them. 

You don’t want to be like them. 

Cold. Heartless. Uncaring. Unwilling to put anyone but themselves first. 

Fuck them. 

The only thing keeping you here is the fact you’re bonded to them. That, and you’re an omega. You’d get picked up off the street and brought right back here to your owner. Or, worse, you’d get picked up by someone looking for a cute little omega to add to their collection. 

Or worse. 

You’d get picked up by someone else. 

Graves. Shepherd. 

If you’re lucky, they’d kill you instantly. Leave your body on the front porch for the others to find. You won’t care anymore. You’ll be dead. 

You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks, wiggling yourself back until you’re leaning against the headboard. Your shoulder doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore. It still throbs, still aches, still occasionally almost puts you on the floor when you try to reach over your head with it. Your throat is healing too. Soup isn’t quite as horrible as it was a few days ago. Solid food makes you ache, but at least you can get it down without feeling like you’re swallowing glass. 

You still haven’t spoken to them, though. 

You can hardly stand to look at them. 

Fuck them. 

Just the thought of them makes you want to scream. 

Dr. Keller says it's normal, being angry. ‘It’s all part of the process.’ The anger, the fear, the pain, the depression. It’s all normal. It’s all part of the process. It’s all necessary. You won’t get better holding it all in. You won’t get better numbing yourself. You won’t get better if you don’t allow yourself to feel everything. 

You hate it. 

Why should you have to go through all these feelings, all this pain? Why should you be the one suffering because of their decisions? It’s not fair. They should be suffering. They should be in pain. They should be the ones on the brink of insanity because of the fear and the pain and the suffering and their omega constantly screaming at them. 

It makes you want to scream. 

Screaming will only draw them in, force them closer. Screaming will alert them all, make them all come running. You don’t want any of them near. You don’t want to have to see them again. 

Fuck them. 

You let out a huff before wiggling back down the bed until your head hits the pillow. You won’t go back to sleep. You never do. At least you have the pain and exhaustion and tumultuous emotions and your very nature to excuse your constant naps, constant sleeping during the day. They don’t need to know you’re not sleeping at night. They won’t care. They don’t care. None of them do. 

Fuck. Them. 

You want your phone, you want something to keep you occupied. It’s probably lying somewhere on the side of the road shattered beyond repair. That, or it’s back in the barracks. The barracks. Fuck that place. You’ll rip your hair out strand by strand if you have to go back there. It’s not safe, it’s not happy. There’s nothing good about that place anymore. 

It’s just a place of pain. You might as well have been tortured by Phil there. 

You were tortured there. 

It wasn’t a physical torture, but a mental one. The entire experiment was just torture for you. No one thought of you, no one cared about you. 

Dr. Keller cares. 

It’s her job to care. 

Still, you can’t hate her entirely. She’s the only one that understands. She’s the only one that can help. She’s the only one that’s been helping. Not just now, but back then. She cared, she fought for you, she did her best with what she had. Sure, she made mistakes, but so did you. She’s the only one you can forgive. 

She’s the only one you want to forgive. 

Fuck the others. Fuck your pack. Fuck those fucking soldiers who were never going to care about anyone but themselves, who were never going to care about anything but their jobs and their duties and the good of the world. 

You should have been their world. 

They couldn’t put you first. They wouldn’t put you first. They didn’t want to put you first. 

They won’t change. They can’t change. There’s no hope for change. 

You’ll just go back to the way things were before and be forced to pretend everything's okay and that you’re happy and fine and content. Were you ever really content or were you just trying to make the best of the situation? Were you deluding yourself into believing you loved them and cared about them and that they loved you and cared about you to numb the fact you knew deep down that they never would, that they never could. Were you deluding yourself into thinking everything was fine and dandy to hide the constant pain from the knowledge that you would never come first? 

The pain begins to burn in your chest again. It’s hot like acid, rising in your chest to your throat, threatening to choke you. It’s a deep pain, one nestled right in against your soul. Tears leak out of your eyes again as you squeeze them shut, pushing your right hand against your chest in an attempt to get it to pass. 

You thought you were dying the first time. 

You could only be so lucky. 

The bond. 

It’s trying to break, trying to sever itself, trying to free you from the constant pain, but it can’t. 

Maybe because deep down you don’t want it to. Maybe deep down you want to forgive them and move past all of this. Maybe you want things to go back to normal, even if normal means pain and distress and fear. Maybe you want to believe them that they’re finally going to put you first. 

‘Maybe’ is only a doorway to disappointment and pain. 

Fuck yourself. 

Fuck your omega. 

Fuck your pack. 

Hell, fuck Dr. Keller for not fighting harder, for not doing more. 

Fuck Graves and his haunting of your nightmares.

Fuck Kate for choosing you.

Fuck Shepherd for creating the initiative in the first place to try and cover his own ass. 

Fuck them all. 

You tug the blanket higher around yourself, rolling onto your right side. 

Fuck. Them. All. 

You don’t want him here. 

He does it now, usually in the mornings. 

You hate it. 

You like it. It’s nice. He’s the only one making an effort. 

He never says anything, surprisingly enough. It’s silent as he sits there, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Always coffee, never tea. He won’t sink that low. He brings you a cup, but you can never bring yourself to touch it. You feel like a mental patient stuck in a straight jacket. You could free yourself, but that would bring too much awareness, too many questions, too much pain. 

You don’t want to. 

So instead you sit there in silence, staring out at the sea. It’s so far away still, yet it’s right there. You can hear it and smell it and see it. 

The sea. 

They brought you to the sea. 

John remembered. He did it for you. 

The thought has something stirring in your chest, and it’s not pain or anger. 

You hate it. 

Johnny leans back in the chair, his eyes on the horizon like yours. He sits there in that chair every chance he gets, usually in the mornings when Dr. Keller takes time for herself and leaves one of them watching you through the sliding glass door. You do feel guilty for forcing so much on Dr. Keller’s shoulders, yet you need her. 

You’re not ready for the others yet, no matter how loudly your omega screams at you. 

You don’t want them. 

Fuck, you desperately need them. 

Your eyelids flutter frantically as you try to keep the tears at bay. You can’t cry. You can’t let him know how close you are to breaking down. You can’t. 

You can’t reach out. 

You can’t take his hand. 

How desperately you want to. 

You nearly breathe a sigh of relief when the sliding door opens, Dr. Keller’s soft footsteps crossing the wood planks of the porch. 

“Ready to go inside now?” She asks, pressing the back of her hand against your cheek. You don’t say anything, don’t react, frozen in fear of everything coming tumbling out in front of Johnny. “You’re getting cold.” 

Johnny glances your way and you immediately turn to look at Dr. Keller, scared to look him in the face. That desperate hold you have on the gaping wound in your abdomen will open and your guts will come spilling out like some gory scene in a horror movie. 

Disembowelment thanks to your own weakness. 

Dr. Keller holds the crutch out for you as you push yourself to stand. Your legs are strong enough you could probably walk without it, but it’s still nice to have it in case you get tired. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

It’s the weakness from your liquid diet over the past week and a half. The weakness of being unable to eat solid foods, to properly nourish. You’ve lost weight, your clothes hanging from your body in a way they never did before. You’ve lost the softness that marks you as an omega, but it feels fitting. You don’t feel like an omega anymore. 

You don’t feel like anything anymore. 

You’re fighting your instincts out of pain and suffering and stubbornness. You keep taping your omega’s mouth shut despite how loudly she screams at you. You don’t want your instincts. You don’t want that need. Eventually it has to go away. Eventually it has to recede and your omega has to go back into her cage and sleep. Eventually you can numb yourself to it and force it away forever. 

That will certainly make things easier. 

But will it make things better? 

No. Probably not. 

It’ll make things worse. 

But if it allows you to keep your distance, allows you to avoid them, you’ll risk it. You’d take numbness over anything right now. 

How you miss those long days of depression while they were away. How you took those days for granted. 

Who knew those hours spent worrying about them and their distance and what might happen to them would be for nothing? 

What you wouldn’t give for all of them to disappear right now. 

How badly it would destroy you. 

“She’s at war with herself. That instinctual need is screaming at her, but that emotional pain is keeping her shut away. If anyone is going to get through to her, it will probably be you.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his jaw as he stares at Christine. As much as he wants to hate the doctor and her ability to see straight through him, he can’t deny how necessary her presence has been. She’s the only one you tolerate, the only one you’ll let close. Without her you’d probably be rotting in bed, stuck and unable to do anything out of stubbornness. You won’t let them close, yet you need them close. 

You’re going to rip yourself in half, metaphorically and possibly even literally. 

He shakes that mental image from his mind. The horrifying images his mind has conjured up over the last few days have his stomach churning. Even his tea no longer looks appetizing. 

He put milk in it this time. Almost how he likes it. Almost how he wants it. 

“Johnny’s the one actually trying.” Simon says, staring across at her. She doesn’t shy from his gaze, doesn't even flinch. “You should talk to him.” 

“While I agree, reintroducing a beta from the pack is the first step, eventually she’s going to need an alpha.” Christine says. 

“She needs her alpha.” He argues. 

“She doesn’t want her alpha.” Christine counters. “He’s going to be the last she lets close, but she’s going to need some kind of stability.” 

“I can’t give her that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his hand around his mug, his knuckles going white. She’s infuriating, yet he can’t be mad at her. Not completely. The good she’s doing for you, for the pack, far outweighs his annoyance with the doctor. She’s right. He knows it deep down, but he can’t. He can’t do that, he can’t put you through that. He’s already done enough. He did his part, he faced his fears, he saved your life. That’s enough for him. It’s up to John now. 

John has to do the work to fix it. He broke it, it’s no one else’s job to fix it. 

“Maybe both.” Simon finally says, pushing himself up to stand. “It’s not my job to fix this.” 

He leaves his mug behind as he stalks out of the kitchen, heading for the front door. He can’t stand being in the house any longer, cooped up with the same five people. Four people and a ghost. 

He shakes his head, jogging down the steps into the gravel. He should go for a jog. A long jog. He could jog to town and back. That will clear his head. 

That’s a long jog.

If something happens while he’s away, he won’t get back in time. It’ll be his fault because he took the time to do something selfish. He can picture it, coming back to find five bodies laying in pools of blood, dead because he wasn’t there to help, because he wasn’t there to fight. 

It’s a ridiculous thought. There’s three other highly trained soldiers in the house. If anyone tried anything, they wouldn’t make it past the door. He can see it now, Price’s alpha coming out in a rage because someone dared try to enter and hurt his vulnerable omega. He’d probably win in a fight ten to one if that happened, and he has Kyle and Johnny to back him up. Christine would take you and run the first chance she could. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not again. 

Still, he can’t shake that fear. If he can’t sprint back, then it's too far. If it will leave the pack too vulnerable, he can’t. 

To the beach and back, then. 

She’s like an angel. 

The soft sunlight streaming through the clouds makes her glow. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sun was shining just for her, sending down a beam just to illuminate just how ethereal she is. 

The Garrick beauty is genetic. 

Kyle is beautiful in terms of a man. He shares the same ethereal glow as his sister, but Ashley? You don’t feel worthy of looking upon her. 

“Kyle never mentioned an omega, but then again, he never says much about his job.” She gives another dazzling smile, your heart rate picking up just slightly. “Can’t, I should say. You haven’t been with them long, huh.” 

“About nine months.” You say, your voice still a bit hoarse. It’s not quite healed yet. It might be that way forever. 

“Such a short amount of time to go through so much.” She says, giving you a soft, sympathetic look. You don’t know how much she knows, though it’s still fairly obvious you’ve been through hell. That you’re still going through hell. “Christine told me a bit about what happened. I don’t blame you one bit for being upset at them. I would have left them, but I know. In a perfect world, right?” 

You make a quiet sound. Indeed in a perfect world where omegas have rights and can make their own decisions and could leave and have support in doing so. You’d leave with Dr. Keller or even Ashley, even though you’ve only known her for ten minutes. She has the same magnetic energy as Kyle, so much so you don’t mind the way the scent blockers burn your nose. She probably smells like something warm and soft, something comforting. 

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” She says, settling in the chair. It’s cool outside, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it one bit. 

You scramble for something, anything. What is it you like to do? What are your hobbies? You’re drawing a blank, your mind searching through its filing cabinets to find where you shoved all the things you like to do. 

“I like to read.” You finally say, remembering the stack of untouched books on the dresser across from the bed. 

“Oh? What do you like to read?” She asks. 

What do you like to read? What is a genre? What are books? 

“Oh, I read anything, as long as it’s interesting.” Is that the truth? You’re not quite sure. 

“I see, I see. Well, there’s quite the collection on those shelves inside. I’m a reader too. Read through those entire shelves over the years.” She grins at you. “We could do a little book club, if you’d like. Read some books and talk about them over some tea. We could get Christine in on it too. Have a little thing just for us girls.” 

You nod, staring at her in awe. This is the first time someone outside of your little circle has offered to do anything with you, for you. 

You want to do it. 

You want to spend time with someone who isn’t your pack, who isn’t Dr. Keller. 

“Okay.” You say, still staring at her in awe. 

“I could come over on the weekends, or we could do a call if you’re not up to seeing anyone.” She continues, and you’re not sure if she made this plan before she came, or if she’s coming up with it on the spot. Regardless, you're still impressed by her and her dedication to a complete stranger. 

“Would...would that be too much?” You ask, your brain starting to wake up again, the wires connecting once more. 

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I live and work in Exeter, so I’m not too terribly far away.” 

You’re not sure where Exeter is off the top of your head. Your mental map isn’t even sure how far away London is...or even where you are on a map of England. Are you even in England right now? 

“What do you do for work?” You ask, realizing you’ve been silent for an awkward amount of time. 

“I’m a finance lawyer.” She says. “Mum used to say ‘you love to argue so much, you should become a lawyer.’” She laughs. “So I did.” 

“You must make a lot of money.” You say. You don’t know how much lawyers make in England relative to the US. 

“I make enough to be comfortable.” She says. Enough to travel back and forth every weekend. “Seriously, though, if you need or want anything, let me know. I’m more than happy to come sit with you and give you a break from those stinky men.” 

You’re not quite sure what happens to your face. It contorts, muscles shaking off the dust and starting to move before you even realize it. Your lips are tilting upwards instead of downwards. Something is happening. Something that feels good, something that you’ve been missing. 

You’re smiling. 

You’re smiling. You haven’t smiled in a long time. Weeks. Not since the cameras. Not since your pack left. You haven’t felt like smiling in so long you’re certain you forgot how to. But yet, here you are, smiling at Ashley. It’s not a genuine smile, one that crinkles your eyes and shows joy, but it’s a smile. It almost hurts your face after so long. 

She’s funny too. 

Stinky men. 

They are that. 

Your smile falls as soon as the sliding glass door opens, your head whipping around to look. Ashley turns to look too, perhaps out of instinct at your sudden movement. 

You’re half expecting it to be one of the guys, maybe Kyle out to ruin the moment, but it’s only Dr. Keller. 

“How are things going?” She asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Good.” Ashley says. “We’re planning a book club.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises a brow, looking between you. “I think that would be fantastic.” 

“You’re welcome to join in if you’d like,” Ashley says, giving Dr. Keller a smile. 

You stare up at Dr. Keller, watching the way her lips turn up a smile, her eyes shining with...something. Her hands open and close, tugging at her pants almost nervously. Your brows raise as you look back up at her face. She almost looks...flustered. 

Oh. 

Another grin forms on your face as you stare between them, Ashley still smiling and Dr. Keller still looking a bit flustered. 

Oh. 

“You could join us if you want.” You say slowly, still looking up at Dr. Keller. 

She seems to snap out of her daze, her gaze darting down to you. She gives you a soft smile, back to her composed, professional self. “If that’s what you’d like.” 

You nod. Even though you see her constantly every day, you’re not tired of her existence yet. She’s the only one whose existence in the house doesn’t make you want to gouge your eyes out, the only one you want to talk to, to see, to have around. If you had the choice, you’d be here alone with her. 

That’s not possible. You know it’s not. 

“A thing for just us girls.” Ashley says. “On the weekends. No pressure whatsoever.” 

“I think that would be fantastic.” Dr. Keller says. “A nice little distraction.” 

“A nice break from those stinky men.” You say. 

Both Dr. Keller and Ashley erupt in laughter. 

Another smile tugs at your lips. 

You don’t want to be here. You can feel him staring at you from behind. He hasn’t moved since Dr. Keller left, still just standing there like he’s not sure he can approach you or not. You hope he doesn’t. You want him to. 

You don’t say anything, still staring out at the ocean, but you can see him reflected in the glass, obscuring your view of the horizon. Hatred burns inside of you as you have no choice but to stare at him, even when you’re trying not to. He’s like a ghost, always haunting you. He always will be. 

“I didn’t want to try to rush into this.” He finally says, knowing you’re not going to say anything. You won’t greet him, welcome him into your space. It already feels like an intrusion into your safety, him being here. 

Is this becoming a safe space? A nest? No, not that far. It’s becoming sacred to you, though, and having him in it without invitation feels wrong. It makes you uncomfortable. 

You hate it. 

“But I just wanted you to know that we’re all feeling the weight of what we did, I’m feeling the weight of what I decided to do. We all feel guilty for putting you through that, for forcing you to endure things you never should have.” 

He swallows thickly, falling silent for a moment. You almost feel like laughing at his attempt at an apology, another attempt at an apology. Why is he even bothering? He knows you won’t forgive him. He’s probably doing it for himself again, to make himself feel better. 

“I know it’s not an ideal situation, being forced in such a small space together, but we all wanted you to know that you’re the one setting the boundaries. If you don’t want us to be somewhere or do something, then you can tell us, or have Christine tell us. If you don’t want to see us at all, we can make our best attempts at that.” 

“That would be ideal.” You say, breaking the silence you’ve held for days. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since the hospital, since his first sad attempt at an apology. 

It shocks him to stillness and silence. 

The words hurt, burning your throat like acid as you stare at his reflection in the glass. You hate it, how pathetic he looks standing there. Where’s the big, tough alpha? Where’s the strong protector? Where’s the person that’s supposed to take care of you and care about you? 

He never existed. 

He left you behind. 

He never cared. 

Anger begins to bubble within you. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice shaking. “I never meant for this to happen-”

“You think your sad attempts at apologies are going to work?” You hiss at him through your teeth. You push yourself to stand, turning to face him. “You left me. You fucking left me there knowing full well what was going to happen!” You’re shouting now. All the quiet movements on the other side of the wall in the main area stop. 

They’re all listening. 

It’s not like you’re giving them much of a choice not to. 

Fuck them.

“I know,” He says, his eyes wide as he stares at you. 

“Do you? Do you know?” Your voice is wavering, your throat starting to ache but you can’t stop. Not now. It’s all coming out and there’s no stopping it. “You. Left. Me. You willingly turned your back on me time and time again even when I was being tortured! You leaving was torture enough and you still chose me second. I’ve always been second. I’ve never mattered enough for you to even question anything!” 

You let out a sob, the sound cracking in your throat. It hurts, but it will always hurt. You’ll always carry this hurt with you, so you want him to hurt too. 

“I asked you once if you would ever leave for me. You said if things got dangerous, if my life were ever at risk because of you, you’d leave in a heartbeat.” The tears are falling, streaming down your face. “Was that a lie?” 

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, staring at you. Does he even remember that conversation? 

“Was that a lie?” You shout, making him jump. 

His eyes drop to the floor, his scent souring. Good, you think. Let it hurt. 

“Answer me.” You say, pushing him to give some response to your question. You need to know. You need him to say it. 

“I didn’t intend for it to be.” He says quietly. 

“You didn’t intend for it to be.” You say, bitterness coating your tone. “What the fuck does that mean? You said you wouldn’t let me go even if the initiative failed. Was that a lie too? Was it all a lie to keep me happy and complacent? ‘The job always comes first,’ even when my life is in danger, right? The job always comes first over everything, even me. You lied to me.” You swallow the sob threatening to come up. “I want to hear you say it.” 

He stands there, tears brimming in his eyes. He hasn’t moved hardly a muscle, still frozen like a statue. 

“Say it!” You scream at him, your throat tearing around the words. You’re surprised you’re not tasting blood yet from how raw it feels. 

“I lied.” He says, swallowing thickly. “I lied to you and I couldn’t keep my promise. And I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t apologize.” You cut him off starting to pace as the anger burns hot in you. “Don’t you fucking apologize to me, you don’t deserve to apologize. You don’t deserve the chance at forgiveness. You’re a shitty alpha and you always have been!” 

You let out a sob, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. There’s a tear sliding down his cheek, and it brings you some sort of relief deep down. So he can feel things after all. 

“I don’t know what I expected, though.” You let out a sardonic laugh. “You military men are all the same. It’s always about the job and the image and the ‘greater good’ and making sacrifices, even if that means sacrificing your pack. You’re just like my dad. You never wanted an omega, you never wanted me. You cast me out and let me suffer when I needed you most.” 

The anger burns hot in you again, shooting through your veins until it’s choking you as you stare at him standing there pathetically. He thought he could apologize, he thought his groveling would mean anything to you. Fuck him. Fuck them all. 

“You left me.” You grit out, your hands starting to shake. “You left me! You abandoned me, you let me get hurt! You didn’t care, you never cared about me!” You storm over to him. “Fuck you!” You scream, hitting his chest. “I fucking hate you!” You shove him back, sending him stumbling. “Get out!” You shove him again, pushing him back towards the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!” 

He stumbles back out of the door and you slam it in his face so hard it shakes on its hinges. You click the lock as you sob in pain, pain both physical and emotional. Your chest aches, a tearing feeling burning through it. 

The bond. 

You don’t care. You don’t give a fuck anymore. You hate him, you hate them all. 

The tears and sobs threaten to choke you but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care about anything anymore except the anger burning hot through you, making your hands shake. Your legs give out and you slide to the floor against the door, sliding until you’re laying down on your back on the hardwood. It’s cold against your skin but you don’t care. You can’t care anymore. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

John stares at the wood in shock. The slam of the door still echoes in his ears as he stands there, frozen. He knew the chance of a negative reaction was high, but something like that? Something to that magnitude? 

Your words cut into him like a knife, searing his skin and leaving blisters behind. 

Hands push him out of the way. He stumbles to the side, his brain still catching up to his body. 

“Sweetie, I need you to open the door.” 

The words are muffled from the ringing in his ears, the ringing of your screams as you cursed his very being. 

Liar. 

His legs are shaking as he turns, his body moving automatically towards the door. The other three members of his pack are frozen, watching him as he crosses the living room, as he wraps his fingers around the handle of the sliding glass door, as he pushes it open just wide enough to slip through. 

The thud of it closing feels like a seal being stamped. He’s cut himself off, fraying that bond forever. 

Your words still ring in his head as he stands in the middle of the porch numbly. 

Liar. 

He is a liar. He made a lot of promises that he couldn’t keep, promises that he broke because of his decisions. He should have made you feel comfortable enough to reveal those cameras right away. He should have gotten you off base as soon as you revealed them. He should have never trusted Shepherd, or even Kate in that moment. He should have fought harder, he should have sent you away from base as soon as he made that decision to leave. 

So many things he should have done differently. 

You can’t change the past. 

Liar. 

He left you when you needed him most. He proved time and time again that he’d always choose the job over you, no matter what he promised. You’re not a soldier. No matter how much he tried to prepare you, train you, you’d never be able to fight like them. 

Not without taking drastic measures. 

He saw the blood. He saw the bodies. He saw the proof of an omega pushed too far, an omega forced into its primordial state. 

You did it because they left you. 

You did it because you thought the abandoned you. 

Those words ring out the loudest in his mind. Above all the others those words linger, replaying over and over again. 

‘You let me be tortured.’

Christ. 

He runs a hand over his face, the realization shocking him as a cold chill settles under his skin. There’s a weight dropping in his stomach, threatening to sink him straight through the planks of the porch and into the ground below. 

You think they left you. 

He turns on his heel, shocked to find Simon standing behind him. He can’t read his face, hidden behind the mask that hasn’t come off since they arrived at the cottage. He doesn’t need to see his face to read the giant alpha. He’s known Simon long enough to be able to read him just based on his body language. 

He’s angry, frustrated. John half expects him to start yelling too, but that’s never been Simon’s style. He only gets loud when he needs to. Instead he’ll stew and glare and darken the room with his rage. The target of his anger will feel it and know, and that’s almost worse than if he’d express that anger through words. 

Despite the cold chill of Simon’s stare, John’s mind is reeling too much to care. It all makes sense now. Your distance, your turmoil, your own anger. 

“She thinks we left her.” The words come tumbling out before he can stop them. 

“We did.” Simon says, the words short and sharp. 

“No, no,” John shakes his head. “She thinks we left her with Graves.” 

Simon shifts on his feet, the planks of the porch creaking under his weight. 

“Of course Graves would fuck with her head, make her feel like she had been abandoned. It was never about following orders for him. He would have tortured her no matter what.” Anger burns hot in John, at himself, at Graves. Of course you’d assume the worst, of course you’d believe Graves because he was playing on your own doubts. 

They left you so easily at the barracks, of course they’d leave you to be tortured. 

“She’ll never believe you.” Simon says. The squaring of his shoulders has deflated a bit. 

“No, she won’t.” John shifts on his feet, staring straight at Simon. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell her.” 

Her hand presses against your forehead, wiping some of the sweat beading on your skin. Despite your shivers, you’re burning hot. A fever. You worked yourself up too much earlier in your outburst. She had been proud of you for finally releasing some of it and showing some emotion, but she knew the consequences of getting so worked up would be high. Your omega is still unstable, on top of still trying to physically recover. You hurt yourself doing that, even if it was necessary. 

She shushes you as you whine, fingers grasping at the blanket clumsily. She pulls it higher over you, your body shuddering underneath the pile already stacked on top of you. She’d put every blanket she could find over you, and yet you still shiver. Worry floods her again as she stares down at you, your eyes pinched closed. You must be aching, your show of anger taking its toll. 

It was necessary, but at what cost? 

If your temperature continues to spike, the risk of distress heightens. You can’t handle distress in your current state, which would mean your omega would come out, finally be freed again from the unprotected cage it's been pushed back into. If your omega comes out, that will require John to help, which may only drive you further into distress. 

She needs to try and stop this before the situation continues to deteriorate. 

But how? 

How can she move you past this without the help of your pack? She can’t give you the comfort you need. Medicine or any therapeutic methods can help solve the issue at its core. Sure she can try and lower your fever with medicine, but you need your pack. You need that comfort and stability that only they can offer. 

You need someone, and it can’t be her. 

If your omega comes back out, they might never be able to get it back in. It’ll be the end of you. All of your recovery, the fight you’ve put up against your body and your instincts and your mind will have been for nothing. 

You need someone. 

An idea begins to form in her head, her hand resting against your forehead. It’s hot under her hand, your skin burning. You might hate her later for this. It’s risky, but sometimes risks have to be taken in dire situations. Sometimes those risks pan out in the end. What will happen if it fails? The inevitable that’s going to happen if she doesn’t try. It’s a lose-lose situation, but if it works, it could be a win-win. 

She can’t help you, but maybe she has someone who can. 

She tucks the blankets around you, cocooning you in an attempt to keep you warm and still while she steps away. She won’t be gone long.  

She leaves your door cracked open just in case, even though she doubts you’ll be moving much while she’s away. 

Just in case. 

One can never be too careful. 

She heads up the stairs quietly, going slow to avoid startling any of them. She’s intruding on the safe space they’ve made in their solitude. It feels like invading sacred grounds, but it's a necessary invasion. Their omega is in danger. They’ll forgive her. 

The bathroom door is closed at the end of the short hallway, a light on inside. The lights are on in both rooms too, glowing beneath both doors, and she takes a gamble. Based on the heaviness of the footsteps above the kitchen she can guess the room on the right is the one Simon and Johnny are staying in. If she’s wrong, she’ll have some explaining to do before she’s ready, and she knows John will have his thoughts about this. Though, with what happened earlier, perhaps he’ll agree. You won’t see him, but maybe...just maybe... 

She lets out a deep breath before knocking firmly, waiting a breath before she calls out.  

“Johnny, I need your help.”

She just hopes you don’t hate her too much later. 

NEXT ->

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[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 6

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 5 | Series Masterlist | Part 7

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a quiet rest of the day without seeing or thinking about Bucky.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat in the tub, the cascading water from the shower head flowing over you as you stared at the opposite wall. Normally you welcomed the heat and billowing steam, but you shivered the longer you stayed there. The sound of the water droplets couldn't drown out Bucky’s moans or words from your mind.

“I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.”

“You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.”

With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall. The man jerked off to the thought of you. No one ever desired you like that, at least not that you knew of. More than that he wanted you in his home. By his side. Why? You couldn't grasp why he wanted you so badly.

You also couldn't deny that his words got to you, if your wet your underwear was anything to judge by when you peeled them off. Were you so desperate for a semblance of affection that a few dirty words from a terrifying man turned you on? What did that say about you?

Just like the last couple of days, that was too much to unpack.

“I’m not special,” you whispered.

You could practically see Bucky across from you with sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at you when you argued last night that you weren't special. He didn't believe that for a second. Quite the opposite. He saw something in you that others didn't. Wasn't that what you wanted deep down? To be seen? Cherished?

Not like this.

“Get up,” you muttered, carefully getting to your feet. You weren't going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Things could always be worse. All things considered, Bucky hadn't hurt you. Hadn't lied to you either, as far as you knew. Which made your heart ache at that thought of leaving your place behind.

If Bucky kept his promise and forced you to move in, what would you tell your friends? Would they think you were crazy for moving so fast or would they not question it at all because Bucky was rich, handsome, and they would assume he made you happy? You’d say what you had to if it meant keeping them safe, but feared it could possibly put up a wall between you and the group since you couldn't tell them the full truth. Maybe his intention was to drive you away from them and bring you closer to him.

Your head began to ache from the overanalyzing. “I’m not going to think about Bucky Barnes.” Shutting the water off, you pushed the questions and scenarios as far from your mind as possible as you went about the rest of your morning. The rest of the day would be routine, normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

Naturally, Bucky messaged you once you finished getting dressed to prove you wrong. “Thinking of you. Are you thinking of me?”

You swallowed dryly as you typed back to him. It was like he knew you were trying to forget about everything. “I think you want me to think about you.”

It didn't take him long to respond. “Of course, I do. I hope you’re thinking about our chat from earlier and when we can finish it.” The man didn't want to just get in your head. He wanted to get under your skin. “Is it too much to ask for a photo? You have such a beautiful smile.”

You scoffed both from the audacity and boldness. It wasn't enough that he pleasured himself while talking to you, he wanted a photo of you, too? He specifically noted your smile. Was it really beautiful? “Just because you sent me photos of you in your jackets doesn't mean I have to send photos back.”

“Pretty please?”

It was almost cute. “Not today. Sorry, Bucky.”

“That’s okay. Was worth a shot. Maybe I can convince you to let me take a photo when I see you tonight.”

You froze. There it was. Not “if” he’d see you tonight, but “when”. There was no stopping him, was there? Maybe it was that thought that possessed you to goad him because you couldn't otherwise explain why you sent what you did. “You won’t see me because I have plans. But tell you what. If by any chance you do see me tonight, I’ll let you take a photo.”

You blinked and reread your message. Why did you do that? Sending that was as stupid as it was impulsive and would only encourage him.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

Your stomach twisted in knots, but you sent one last reply. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Bucky was so convinced he’d see you and there was a good chance he would, but you’d make him work for it a little. You wouldn't stick around your apartment. That would probably be the first place he’d look for you.

Catch me if you can.

Your shift went as normal as could be. Steady enough to keep you busy, but not feel overwhelmed. No difficult customers. No surprise visits from Bucky either, though you kept waiting for him to walk through the door.

There was no relief though once you clocked out since you had no idea where you'd hide out for the rest of the day. Everyone you reached out to was busy. Addison, of course, was going out to dinner with Brady and you didn't bother messaging her. Dana had a double date with another of your friends. The rest all had romantic evenings planned, too. They apologized like always.

Was it bad that you were kind of used to it?

A message from Bucky appeared the second you stepped out of the shop. “Any chance you’ll give me a clue where you’ll be?”

You sighed, a sense of weariness seeping in that you couldn't blame on work. “Not a chance.”

“Should I go find you now? I’m a little bored.”

Your gaze darted from left to right. Was he already nearby somewhere watching? “If you're bored, read a book.”

A smile crossed your face when you suddenly thought about where to go. You told yourself earlier you didn't want to think about Bucky for the rest of the day. What better way than to distract yourself with a book? And what better place than your favorite bookstore, Turn the Page?

Before you tucked your phone away, you turned the GPS off just in case Bucky had a way to get access to it. You wouldn't put it past him to try. You wouldn't take your normal route either. It was crazy to think things like a routine could be a bad thing, but Bucky made you question everything.

Walking through the city, you occasionally glanced back over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you. No one looked your way, too occupied with their own agendas as they shuffled around you. Something still felt off, goosebumps forming on your arms and your heart sinking as you felt a pair of steel eyes on you.

You didn't realize you stopped walking until someone nearly collided with you. “I’m so sorry,” you said, giving you the push you needed to move again. Quickening your pace, you reminded yourself it was still light out. People were around. Even if Bucky was following you, what would he do?

You moved forward and didn't look back until you found yourself at the bookstore, taking a calming breath before you walked in. Turn the Page had a cozy and peaceful atmosphere with a range from classic to modern stories. You could spend hours there and feel perfectly at home.

“Hey, Marc,” you smiled at the man behind the counter.

“Hey. Good to see you,” Marc smiled back. He took over the bookstore over a year ago. Friendly for the most part and took pride in the shop. “Anything I can help you find? Just finished setting up some new releases.”

“No thanks,” you replied, selecting a thick romance novel that would pass the time. “I was just going to hang around and read for a bit if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? Coffee? Baked good?” He offered, nodding to the tiny cafe area in the corner.

“Just water for now, please,” you said. You probably needed to eat, but you’d wait for your nerves to fully settle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, going to grab you your drink as you followed.

“Have you heard of The 107th?” You asked. You weren't sure what possessed you to do so. Maybe it was because he seemed like a neutral person to talk to.

“The nightclub?” Mark eyed you curiously. “That doesn't seem like your scene.”

“I’ve only been once. A friend's bachelorette party over a month ago,” you explained, assuming he meant it wasn't your type of scene since you weren't a party girl. “But I may have met the owner recently.”

Marc kept a neutral expression, but noticeably paused before he handed the glass over. “You met Bucky Barnes?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting on your feet. “Do you know him?”

He busied himself by cleaning the counter. “Yeah, I know him,” he said, your chest tight. How? “Well, I wouldn't say I know him well. I’ve only met him a couple of times. A lot of the local owners have since he has a hand in quite a few endeavors. Donates to the local hospital and charities, too.”

“That’s nice,” you croaked, taking a sip. If he had a hand in local businesses, was it possible that he met your boss? “He seemed very driven when I spoke to him.”

“That he is,” he agreed, tossing the rag away. “Also dangerous,” he added under his breath.

“Dangerous?” You repeated. The man threatened your loved ones, but why would Marc call him that?

He paused to look at you, his eyes wider than before. “Yeah, but you’re too sweet to get mixed up in any of that, so forget I said anything. Please,” he urged. You wished you could. “He hasn't been poking around your shop, has he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you said. You hoped not.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.”

“Anniversary of what?” You asked.

“His family. They…” He trailed off when the phone rang at the counter. “Sorry. I need to get back to work.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just start my book,” you said, going to take a seat on the other side of the shop. You took your usual spot on the couch and wished you hadn't said anything. Marc knew Bucky enough to say he was dangerous. And why would he eventually poke around your shop? Anniversary… Flowers…

“I wish you could've met my mom. She would've loved you.”

“She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day.”

You settled further into the couch with a huff. Bucky’s family and endeavors were none of your business. You weren't going to question it any further. You were going to sit and enjoy your book.

That was exactly what you did.

A few customers went in and out of the shop as you lost yourself in the story. It was easy to imagine snuggling with the hero as he whispered how much he loved you and always would. The sweet sort of romance that brought a smile to your face and allowed you to relax against the cushions. You were surprised you didn't fall asleep.

What time was it anyway?

“How’s the book?”

A shiver rolled over you as you peered up from the page and saw Bucky standing in front of you. He wore the blue jacket and his eyes stood out just as you said they would. Where you expected to see triumph in his gaze, there was only curiosity and awe. Like he happened to bump into you by accident instead of intentionally.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. While it wasn't a complete shock that he managed to find you, it was a miracle your heart hadn't given out from how fast it pounded over the last couple of days. “How did you find me?”

Did he actually follow you?

He smiled a little. “You’re the one who told me to read a book since I was bored,” he said, taking a seat beside you and slipping his arm around you. You tensed as he pulled you close, but he merely rubbed your arm with his gloved hand until you relaxed. “And finding you was just a process of elimination. I know you didn't go back to your place after you left this morning and there aren't too many places you like to venture by yourself in the city.”

“And just how do you know I didn't go back to my apartment?” You asked.

“I may or may not have an eye on the building,” he said casually. It could've been a joke or serious answer, neither of which were a laughing matter. “Or maybe you knew that would be the first place I’d try to look for you, so you decided to avoid it.”

You bit your tongue. That was exactly what you did. “Or maybe I wouldn't be there since I was supposed to go out.”

He nodded. “You were supposed to go out, but your plans fell through, didn't they?” He asked sympathetically. You didn't want his pity. “If I had to guess, they fell through even before we talked this morning.”

“My original plans fell through, yes,” you confirmed.

He hummed. “Were you embarrassed to tell me?”

You wrung your fingers together. There was no reason for you to feel bad for not telling him. You didn't owe him anything because he wasn't your boyfriend. “No,” you whispered.

“Did it just slip your mind when we talked?” He teased. At least he didn't sound upset or disappointed. Why wasn't he upset? Was he testing you?

“No. I just wanted a night off from being…” you trailed off, not sure how he would react in public to something he didn't want to hear. And what was it a night off from exactly? Being his new girlfriend?

He scratched along his chin, drawing attention to the gray hairs. “You know what I think?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” you replied.

“I think you were testing me because you wanted me to find you. You want me more than you want to admit,” he said. Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't speak. “Otherwise, why push me to look for you? Why hang out in one of your favorite shops knowing I could easily track you down?”

“I didn't…” You took a breath. You didn't want him to chase after you. That wasn't it. “I didn't push.”

“Moyo Kotyonok, you dared me with that message and you know it,” he smirked.

Biting your lip, you didn't deny it any further since he was partially right. You egged him on by offering to let him take a photo if he found you, which wasn't smart. If you had real plans, you wouldn't have done that. But you didn't do it because you wanted him to find you or wanted him in general.

You didn't.

“But we can talk about that later,” he said, gentler than you expected. “I’m sorry about your plans. What happened?”

You finally closed the book in your lap and exhaled. “Addison and I were supposed to hang out, but she’s going out to dinner with her fiancé instead,” you explained.

He narrowed his eyes. “So, she ditched you,” he said, disappointment finally seeping into voice.

You shook your head. “No, she didn't ditch me. We rescheduled,” you argued, quick to defend her. She didn't maliciously blow you off. “Things come up. It happens.”

Bucky smiled softly. “You stuck up for her immediately. I admire that,” he said, shifting to face you more. He practically crowded you. “Why not hang out with another friend?”

You looked at your lap. What was he playing at? “Because my friends are busy,” you whispered. It hurt to say it and it shouldn't. It was just a downside of being the single one in a group of friends who had significant others. No one was obligated to keep their schedules open in case you wanted to hang out.

He tilted your head up. Why wouldn't he just let you hide? “Just so you know, I will never be too busy for you,” he whispered. It wasn't fair that he looked at you like you mattered. “You’re my top priority.”

You ignored the warm sensation that spread from your heart. So many people made you an option. “I shouldn't be,” you whispered.

“But you are and that isn't going to change,” he said, steadfast as always. “And since this shop is going to close soon, why not go to the club with me? It'll be fun.”

You gestured to your comfortable outfit. “I’m not dressed for your club. Besides, I was going to call it an early night after I left.”

His eyes roamed your body with interest before he shrugged and took the book from your lap. “I have that dress waiting for you, but you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything.”

“Are you listening to what I'm saying? I said I want to call it an early night.” You moved to stand, your limbs tired from sitting. “For someone who claims to care, you don't take my feelings into consideration.”

He reached to grab your hand and took it before you could walk away. “I care more than anyone else,” he whispered vehemently before he took a breath, his eyes burning with passion as he stood up, too. “I’m not ignoring your feelings. It’s a compromise. We won't stay long, so come with me.”

“Thank you for the offer,” you began, trying to put out the fire in his eyes. “But why would I want to go to your club when all I want to do is read and relax?”

“Do I need to remind you that some of my friends will be there and they still want to meet you?” He asked, gently guiding you toward the front of the store. “And I can take your right back to your place after so you can rest. You'll still have an early night.”

He considered that a compromise? “But I-”

“You’ll be in bed before 10. You have my word.” He walked you toward the exit, past the remaining customers, and gave the associate behind the counter a smile before you could protest. “And don't worry about the book. I paid for it.”

“Wait, where’s Marc?” You asked. You hadn't spoken to him since your earlier conversation.

The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. “I think he went out back for a quick break.”

“Before closing?” You asked.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, heading out the door with you.

He helped you into the car by the curb as you were still catching up to what was happening. He effortlessly coaxed you out of a store with people around and into a car, alone. The man had no fear.

“Where's Ray?” You asked since the partition was up. “Shocked you didn't send him in to get me.”

“He actually offered, but I wanted to go in myself,” Bucky replied, chuckling at your expression. “And don't worry. He's close by.”

You huffed and stared at the garment bag where your dress waited when he put an arm back around you. “I just wanted some peace and quiet tonight.” But he got you right where he wanted you.

“Like I said, you'll meet my friends and you’ll be in bed by 10.” Bucky dragged his nose along your throat and inhaled your scent. Your eyes closed, but your body didn't freeze up the way you expected it to. “We’ll both get what we want.”

What you wanted didn't matter. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You closed your eyes. “Just how dangerous are you?”

“I’m the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,” he replied against your skin.

“And what if your friends don't like me?” You asked.

“You have nothing to worry about. They’ll love you,” he promised, bringing his head up to kiss your temple. “But no one will ever love you more than I do.”

Love.

You shuddered. You weren't sure what you feared more. That his friends would love you enough to help keep you by his side or how much Bucky claimed to love you. Because there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man in love.

Which friend do we think is the most excited to see you with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hello lovely ~ gonna request what we were talking about~

Alastors antlers shedding♡ literally? Anything you wanna say about it

Shedding Season

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Antlers being Shed, Alastor being clingy. 18+ as it does mention Alastor having a rut. Nothing graphic I promise

A/N:This is my take on how he would deal with his antlers shed and how he deals with his rut.

Alastor finds himself needing help with shedding his antlers. You decide to help him out

It started off fine for Alastor, at first it was more of an urge to stay near his lover, you, it didn’t really bother him as he was a busy man and had things to take care of but it got worse after a day or two. The urge to stay in your vicinity got worse as he got even more agitated than before if he strayed away from you or Satan forbid Lucifer or Husker got too close to you. Then it was the constant motion of him rubbing his face into your neck or shoulder when no one was around, you didn’t seem to mind one bit but it agitated him to no end. But the feeling went away once you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, brushing near his antlers and ever so carefully scratching which caused him to pull you closer to him. 

Then it was how his body was reacting, how he couldn’t even wear his own coat anymore. It was like every article of clothing was suffocating him and how he hated it so. The best course of action he thought of was hiding in his room away from prying eyes and ears as he snarled out rubbing his horns on one of the many trees in the bayou in his bedroom. He didn’t need you to see how pathetic he looked and felt, his sweet doe would never look at him the same if they saw him like this. He was sure of it. Despite being in his own room, the wind of the familiar bayou felt on his warm body wasn't enough for him. It wasn’t until he heard a knock on his bedroom door that sent his ears turning to the sound and his head snapping up in anger.

“Alastor? Darling?” You called out from the other side of his bedroom door, his heart pounded before he willed his way towards the door ignoring the pain his antlers were giving him. He shakily gripped the doorknob before opening it only a bit. “Yes, Dear?” He asked softly trying to keep his anger at bay as his chest heaved with every heavy breath. You softly smiled at him, “May I come in?” You asked, holding onto the door frame leaning closer to him.

He weighed the options for a moment before eventually allowing you into his room, finally noticing the small basket in your hands, he tilted his head confused. Closing the door behind you he watched as you sat on his chair and waved him over, “Come here you silly deer.” You teased, causing him to huff but he followed your directions as much as he wanted to argue, he knew better. Especially at this moment. You held out your hands to him, the basket on the side of the chair, he slowly held your hands as you pulled him to sit on the ground in between your legs, his back towards the chair. 

“Need a drink or something to snack on, Love?” You asked him as he shook his head silently, he was rarely ever silent. You reached up and gently rubbed his shoulders noticing how warm his skin felt. “You’re rut is around the corner isn’t it?” He froze at the mention of his rut as his hand reached up to rub at his face. “Yes..I do believe it’s that time of year again, Cher.” He replied the radio static filter from his voice was gone as he let out a deep heavy sigh. 

You reached down and grabbed a cold water bottle to hand to him. “Drink up, Al..I’m gonna try and help you get this velvet off your antlers okay?” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. Alastor could only nod and mumble out a warning but you’ve been through this rodeo with him before. You reached down to get the tools from the basket as well as some of his favorite snacks that you got from Rosie earlier today. “They might shed as well, Al..just let it happen okay?” You carefully brushed back his hair seeing as a few strands stuck to his head that was covered in sweat. He could only reply with a hum leaning his head back against you. You were gonna have to get him a cold rag soon as well.

As you began to slowly and carefully help get the velvet off of his antlers he let out a low groan closing his eyes as sweat covered his face and neck. “Want me to go get you a cold rag, Darlin?” You asked softly tilting his head back carefully watching as he opened his eyes, his everlasting smile had dropped a while ago. “No..not yet..” He whispered out, you went back to silently helping him knowing how overwhelmed he gets during these times. 

It was only after you had gotten all of the velvet off of his antlers that something hit the floor with a soft thud making Alastor jump nonetheless. You looked over after making sure you had everything put back up and noticed his two antlers had shed, making him grumble loudly as he leaned his head back into your stomach. “Come on, Al..let me go get a rag for your face and neck.” You whispered slowly getting up as he leaned forward watching you. “Take a sip of water and eat up, okay? I don’t need you dealing with your rut on an empty stomach.” He waved a hand towards you but did what you had asked of him.

The rest of the night was spent with him sitting between your legs as you carefully washed the sweat from his face and neck, whispering soft reassurances as he kept drifting in and out of sleep. Soft jazz playing in the background as his shadow carefully wrapped around your body.

He felt a million times better and he knew that the weeks of his rut would be over soon enough with you helping him with how uncomfortable it made him.

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎

Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.

Enjoy!

Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 

He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 

Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 

Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 

Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 

Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 

Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.

But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 

Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?

At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.

It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 

More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.

Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.

You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 

ꨄ

When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 

Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 

Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.

Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.

You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.

You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.

You stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 

No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!

But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 

“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 

Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.

A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.

“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 

You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.

“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.

You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.

You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.

It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 

Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.

Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.

Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 

You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.

Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 

“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.

"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”

You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 

But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 

Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.

Was he also into this?

The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.

Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.

“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”

He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 

“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.

“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 

“Lost your words, Y/N?”

Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.

“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”

Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.

“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”

You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.

He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.

Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.

Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 

“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”

You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.

“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.

“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”

His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.

“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”

You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.

The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 

“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 

Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.

To your relief there was no one in sight.

Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 

Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.

Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 

“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.

ꨄ 

“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 

You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.

You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 

Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 

Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.

Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  

The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 

“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”

You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.

“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”

If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 

His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.

“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”

“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”

The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.

“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 

You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.

“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 

There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 

You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.

“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”

“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”

You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 

“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 

The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 

“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”

He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.

You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 

“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”

Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.

His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.

You were so close to release.

“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.

“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”

Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.

You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.

“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”

You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.

Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.

The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 

Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.

The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.

Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.

“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”

"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.

You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.

But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 

“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.

Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 

You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.

"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."

The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 

Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 

“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.

“Warm bath, yeah?”

“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”

You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 

You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.

Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.

You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!

You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 

However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 

Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.

“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”

Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 

You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 

Could there ever be too much of a good thing?

You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.

“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.

”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”

However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.

You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.

Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.

This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎

Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!

[orihimeii]

call it what you want - gojo satoru

being married for 2 years with the strongest still feels surreal every time the both of you celebrate your anniversary.

a/n: this was inspired by taylor swift's song "call it what you want." i always imagine gojo whenever i listen to that song. god i love him. reblogs are greatly appreciated.

"gojo is so in love with you" shoko nudges you, your attention diverting to the man who was walking towards you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"yeah" you say, heart fluttering while staring at him and you can see him smiling at you from his direction, "i love him too."

"why did you choose that dumbass?" shoko asks.

you chuckle at her question.

"there's a lot of reasons, but" you pause, "-one thing im sure is that, every little thought in my head that troubles me fade to nothing when i look at him."

shoko looks at you amused, smiling too. "i'd kill for that kind of love."

a tall figure towered over you and you smile.

"what are you doing here mister?" you crossed your arms as you playfully roll you eyes at gojo who was standing now in front of you.

his eyebrow shot up, "who are you calling mister?" he questions as his hand took yours to kiss it, giving you the flowers after. he dressed up today, wearing an all black outfit, he was always too good looking.

"wow im not even here" shoko announced as she walks away leaving the both of you. gojo pulled you closer to him and he was smirking.

"oh? did you finally remember what date is it today?" you asked, crossing your arms. he was always busy with the school and missions, it started to convince you that he forgot about it.

this day was always special for the both of you, the day where you two have shared a loving bond and giving promises to each other that's been kept constantly till to this day.

"happy anniversary" he kisses you in the lips. "i will never get tired of loving you."

you let him kiss you, god you loved him. he smelled good.

you tiptoed trying to align your height with his, arms wrapping around his nape as you feel his slowly holding your waist.

the kisses you had with him were always this passionate, like it was the first time.

you pulled away, tasting something different and started giggling, "toru, is that a new lip balm?"

he was pouting, he didn't want to end the kiss.

"yeah, i bought a new one because i ran out," he replies, feeling both of his thumb making circles on your waist while looking at you flirtingly, "it's your favorife flavor too."

your smile widened, "then, don't blame me when i ask for more kisses often."

"i will never complain princess."

© ORIHIMEII 2023 all rights reserved, do not copy or plagiarize my work including my theme and graphics that i've done, thank you.

[farmerstarter]

maybe some general seb relationship headcanons if you dont mind? especially prior to it or crushing/early dating. how would he react to the confession? would his friends tease him? etc.

im a little picky w sdv hc blog interpretations and i love yours! theyre so sweet. if this is a lot feel free to just do as much as you'd like 💟

ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Crushing

tags: sebastian from sdv x gn! reader

OMG Anon! I am so sorry this is sooooo late. I just finished my 2nd year of college and it was so hectic. But now I have WAY more time to write. Writing this was so fun! if you have any fic requests then feel free to send me an ask! <3 purple divider by @saradika-graphics <3

𐙚⭑ Sebastian couldn’t deny that he, like everyone else in the valley, was curious about the new farmer moving into the overgrown expanse of land to the west of town. He was a bit down on the idea of not having his usual smoking place anymore, but the intrigue easily overpowered it. He was one of the last people to meet you. Sam and Abigail couldn’t stop talking about you. Which was reasonable, nothing ever happens in the valley. The more Sebastian knew about you, the more confused he got. Why move out in the middle of nowhere? Why leave the city for a pile of dirt and a mosquito-infested house? It was weird. For him, at least.

𐙚⭑ You two finally met at night. Sebastian was smoking by the waterfall, and you ambled your way out of the cave with a bag full of copper and coal. The mountains were wisped with fog, cold with dew. Sebastian was sure he was the only living soul out in the open. Much to his surprise, and at the expense of his dignity, he let out the loudest scream he could muster when you decided it was a good idea to sneak up on him to say hello while you were covered in soot and mud. While he was calming himself down and you were washing your face in the lake, you promised not to tell Sam or Abigail about the encounter. Sebastian was very grateful for that. The two of you spent the next hour talking.

𐙚⭑ The next time you met him was when you were discussing building plans with Robin in her house. Robin was just explaining that you needed more wood for your planned chicken coop, and Sebastian just so happened to come out to return his pile of plates to the kitchen. Robin waved him over to introduce him to you. His eyes met yours, and you immediately introduced yourself properly. You gave him a discreet wink when Robin’s back was turned. You deduced that Robin wouldn’t have been too happy to know her son was out at the late hours of the night, smoking his third cigarette in one sitting. Seeing this as an opportunity for her son to get some sunlight, Robin asked Sebastian to accompany you while you got more wood. He didn’t have anything to do; he had finished his module for the week, and he was curious about what his friends were telling him about you. So, he agreed to do it.

𐙚⭑ The two of you decided that Cindersnap Forest would be a good place to chop down some trees. You led the way while Sebastian followed suit, dragging along a wheelbarrow that Robin gave you to make the trip back to the mountains easier. Sebastian spent the day sitting on the makeshift bridge over the river and watching you cut down too many trees for him to count. There were times when you offered to teach him how to wield an axe. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you, so he just shook his head and decided to arrange the logs of wood in the wheelbarrow instead. It was 2 pm when you finally had enough wood for the coop, but neither of you wanted to go back just yet, mostly because it was too hot to walk back, and Sebastian didn’t want to burn off his skin.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian went to look at whatever the traveling cart was selling. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the dark-haired man’s eyes widened when he found out the merchant was selling an egg for 500 gold.

𐙚⭑ It would be so cute if you and Sebastian stumbled into the secret woods and that became your little hideaway to hang out when life got demanding for both of you.

𐙚⭑ You definitely fell for him first, but Sebastian fell in love harder. It all started when you invited him, Sam, and Abigail over to eat the many fish dishes you cooked when you finally had a kitchen in your abode. You specifically made sashimi for him since you remembered he mentioned it was his favorite. He was touched. You took the effort to even remember what he said, and that made his heart stutter. (“It tastes just like the ones Linus makes.”) ((Side note: it would be so cute if Sebastian and Linus became friends because Linus would make sashimi for both of them to eat at night by his tent, but I digress.))

𐙚⭑ Your friendship with Sebastian continued to bloom when you found a frog egg in the cave. You immediately ran to Sebastian to show it off. The two of you became parents to a very hungry frog named Blimp.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian rode his motorcycle at night when the two of you had nothing to do. He didn’t have an extra helmet yet, so he insisted you wear his helmet instead of him. He wanted you safe.

𐙚⭑ I am a firm believer that Sebastian is the type of person to become loud and talkative when he’s around people he is truly comfortable with. So, the moment you two became friends, Sebastian would invite you to hang out with him and Sam in his room to play Solarian Chronicles. He becomes more animated the longer you play, laughing at Sam’s crappy rolls and your insistence that every small enemy is the true boss in disguise. To both Robin and Demetrius’ surprise, Sebastian spends more time outside compared to the past. The two of you either hang out in the Secret Woods or play the arcade games in the saloon. PICNICS! IN THE SECRET WOODS!!

𐙚⭑ You confessed first, and Sebastian became red in the face in an instant. He couldn’t stop smiling, though. Sam doesn’t let him hear the end of it.

𐙚⭑ On clear nights, you and Sebastian climb up to the roof of his house to stargaze. He loves pointing out constellations to you, showing off what Maru taught him. If he asked nicely enough, his half-sister would let the two of you borrow her telescope.

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: 1,462

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, etc.)

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

PART 2 => 🦋

"You look like you bite," I said looking at him directly in his eyes. They were a greenish-hazel color that resembled fallen leaves. Nothing about this man's appearance was hard on the eyes. His face, his eyes, his lips, his body, and even his smile were driving me silently insane. His presence was intimidating yet inviting. An aura surrounded this man that demanded attention and took up space.

He stared back at me with a challenge brewing in his eyes. "I do, but only if you want me to. I promise," he said not even hiding his smirk. All I could do was stare at this smug bastard. I knew that he knew the effect he was having on me. If he couldn't see it on my face, the heat from my body was evidence enough. I was getting hotter by the second.

"Mhmm," I said while turning away. I honestly just wanted to see what he would do. I couldn't let this man see me fold this quickly. I wasn't retreating; it's just that I needed a moment to promptly gather myself. I was fucking losing it. We hadn't even spoken three sentences, and I was already struggling to think. I was normally a quick-witted smartass with a lot to say. Everything about this man was short-circuiting my brain, and I didn't like one bit of it.

"Where you going? C'mere, lil' mama," he teased. The way that man's voice had me in a chokehold. It was thick, heavy, and warm like raw honey. All I could do was smile. I paused and turned back to face him. "Why would I come to you when I'm the meal? If you want it, come get it," I said motioning for him to come here. Now, why the fuck did I do that?

"Meal? I'd prefer it if you were dessert. Daddy's got a sweet tooth," he said striding towards me. He was closing in on the space that I was using for comfort. I felt like I was melting in the spot I stood in. I had to think about my next move. I had to do something. I took a breath and relaxed as much as I could before speaking. The last thing I wanted to do was show this man that I was a nervous fucking wreck. "Well, I guess it's a good thing Mama's a baker," I said while winking up at him. At this point, there was no space between us. We were chest to chest, and I could feel every rise and fall between us.

There was no turning back now. The smile that this man wore from what I said had me blushing. I couldn't cover it up even if I tried. Clearly, I had lost this battle, but I would try my fucking hardest to win the war.

We were way past the point of this being friendly or casual banter. The sexual tension was heavy between us, and I had some shit to prove. He reached up and gently caressed my chin. Breaking me from my trance as he spoke, "Focus, mama. Where your head at, pretty girl?" His smile was now even more intense and sinister. It was as if he was feeding off of my nervousness. Was he getting off on watching me react like this? A devil, I tell you.

At this point, all I could say to myself was "fight back, bitch".

"Just thinking," I said looking up at him. I was struggling to keep my composure. I bit my lip to hide the anxious smile I was fighting. He said nothing as his eyes dropped to watch my movements. His eyes flowed from my lip to my body and back up to my eyes again.

Antsy and nervous, I began to rock on my heels shyly. My facade was beginning to break, and I was crumbling by the second. "Uh oh. Is all that big girl energy fading away?" he asked slowly using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "Big girl energy? I'm a grown woman." I snapped back. I instantly dropped my eyes in regret. "Oouu, there she goes," he said raising one of his eyebrows. This man was taking me for a joke, and my dumbass was letting him.

I raised my head to meet his eyes again. "You don't take shit I say seriously. Do you,... Um... Wait, I never got your name," I stated while watching him and waiting for a response. "Yes, you did. I told you what it was. You don't remember? Huh, pretty girl?" he questioned gathering my hand in his. He held my hand while I struggled to remember if this man ever said his name. I couldn't recall him ever saying a name at all. I, for sure, would have remembered replying with mine if he did. Was I that dumbstruck by this man? Did he have me forgetting portions of this conversation?

Then, it hit me. He said a name, but there was no way in hell that he wanted me to call him that. Right? Did he really want me to call him "DADDY"? I couldn't call a man that, especially a man that I just met. This had to be a joke. I was pulled from my thoughts by feeling his hand cupping my chin. He raised my face upwards to meet his gaze. Those striking eyes were piercing down into mine, and I could almost swear his eyes had darkened to bronze.

The growing intensity of his gaze and the faint grip he held on my chin indicated that he was awaiting an answer. "Something tells me you know exactly what my name is. You just don't want to say it. It's okay. I'll get it out of you one way or another, lil' mama," he said laughing. "And how are you going to do that?" I asked raising my hands to play with the lower hem of his plain t-shirt. "Don't worry. It doesn't matter if I got chu yellin' it, screamin' it, whisperin' it, crying' it. As long as I got chu sayin' it, I did my job," he said leaning in closer.

I could feel the warmth of every breath he took on my neck. The heat from that alone was like a smoke signal. I refused to fall prey to my own desperation, but my brain and pussy were now working against each other. I desired to feel every part of this man in EVERY capacity. I needed a closer connection, so I used the hem of his shirt to softly pull him in closer. I wouldn't dare fold that fucking easily. Not like this.

*FIGHT BACK!*

The wheels were now turning in my head, and my brain was in overdrive. I had to finish what I started. He was right about one thing. I WAS A "BIG GIRL". A woman whose thighs destroyed jeans on the regular and who could talk a lot of shit but wasn't going to take much of it. I had to get him while he was close enough to feel it.

"And what job might that be? Huh,....Daddy?" I asked while trailing my hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. "Mmmm..." he said taking a deep breath. GOT HIM! He removed his hand that was resting on my chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "What? Did I say something wrong?" I asked sheepishly. I was proudly smirking at this point. "Nah. You said everything right," he said smiling back at me.

I decided to take it up a notch. What was the harm in having a little fun? We were only talking after all. I couldn't believe I was feeding into this, but fuck it. "So, does that make me a good girl?" I asked stroking my hand along the back of his neck awaiting an answer.

I could feel the shift in his energy. Desire overtook his eyes. His playfulness had turned primal. "Are you?" he asked tilting his head while watching me. "What's the fun in tellin' you when I could just show you?" I replied as I stilled my hand to rest on his neck. He caught my hand and brought it to rest at his lips. He placed small kisses on the back of my hand. His eyes never left mine. "I guess that settles it, lil' mama. You busy tonight? I think I might have something fun for us to do," he asked smugly.

I knew exactly what this man meant, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. I just hope he can keep up because...

"Big Mama don't fold, and Big Mama don't quit. If you stay awhile, she'll show you some shit."

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

[hotshotsxyz]

this town is only gonna eat you

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1.1k) already wrote some buck-gets-hit-by-a-car spec, so how about some buck-gets-shot? kept thinking about "take eddie [to the laker's game] and die" and uh... here we are. cw: mass shooting/ gun violence (described vaguely), somewhat graphic description of a bullet wound, blood edit: now featuring a companion piece

Buck is smiling when it happens. Grinning at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon as he points out what must be the hundredth interesting play he’s seen on the court tonight. Buck’s smiling.

Eddie registers the screams before the gunfire. He smells the metallic scent of spent shell casings before he sees the shooter. He tackles Buck to the ground before he realizes he’s already hurt.

Buck was smiling, but now his face is inches from Eddie’s and his eyes are wide with pain and panic.

“Eds,” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but it’s still too loud.

Eddie shakes his head, a tiny, sharp movement. Buck takes a shaky breath and presses his lips together. He understands. Eddie hates that he understands. Thank God he understands.

There’s something warm and wet slowly spreading between them, and it takes Eddie several wasted seconds to realize it’s blood. He’s almost completely certain it isn’t his, which—

God, that’s so much worse than if it was.

One of Eddie’s hands is still cradling Buck’s head, an instinctive act of protection before they hit the ground. With the other, Eddie slowly begins feeling his way around Buck’s abdomen. His fingers brush against torn fabric and he feels nauseous.

I’m sorry, he mouths before pressing down hard.

Buck gasps in pain. A muscle in his jaw ticks with the effort it must take him to keep from screaming.

“You’re doing so good,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s ear. “I’ve got you; I promise.”

The bullet caught him somewhere along the fifth intercostal space on the right side of his chest. Eddie doesn’t have a way to feel for an exit wound, not without letting up pressure on what he knows is there.

At best, the bullet glanced off a rib and tore through nothing but skin and muscle. At worst…

At worst, Buck is dying beneath him and there’s not a damn thing Eddie can do, not until the shooter is dead or gone. All Eddie can do is pray. Pray and hope like hell that God has forgiven him for his incomplete confession.

Another spray of gunfire echoes through the arena. It’s nearly impossible to identify where it’s coming from, but Eddie’s got a vague idea based on the direction people seem to be running in.

Buck takes a ragged, watery breath.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hopes he’s crying. He draws back, just far enough to look Buck in his eyes. His eyes, which are clouded over in pain but free from tears.

Fuck, fucking goddamn it.

Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay?” he whispers. “You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The tiniest whimper escapes Buck’s chest.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath. “I just need you to hold on,” he begs.

A single shot rings out, and nearby, something falls to the ground with a dull thump.

“Suspect is down!” someone shouts. “We’re clear for EMS.”

Eddie carefully extricates his hand from behind Buck’s head. “Hear that? We’re so close, Buck.” He brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, then sits up and raises his hand in the air. “Over here!” he shouts. “I’ve got a penetrating chest wound that needs to be on the first ambo out of here!”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter as he fights to stay conscious.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says.

With his free hand and his teeth, he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt to wad up and press into Buck’s wound.  The skin there is ragged and torn, almost certainly an exit wound. Eddie curses.

“I need EMS now!” Eddie roars, not tearing his eyes away from Buck for even a second.

“I’m coming to you!” someone calls back.

Buck’s eyes slip shut.

“No!” Eddie commands, rubbing his knuckles across Buck’s sternum. “You’re staying right here with me, you got it?”

Buck groans weakly. His eyes flick back open.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie babbles. “Just keep—c’mon, Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

Buck’s lips part. “Hurt,” he breathes.

“I know,” Eddie says desperately, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

A pained sound falls from Buck’s lips. He lifts one of his hands just high enough to ghost his fingers along the ruined hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Behind him, Eddie hears a gurney roll to a stop.

“Here!”

Eddie turns and find a young woman, no more than twenty years old, wearing a polo that declares her part of a private ambulance service. He doubts she’d weigh even a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

Buck’s eyes widen. He makes a strangled sound. “Hurt,” he coughs out again, fingers scrambling uselessly against the concrete floor of the arena.

“They’re gonna give you the good stuff at the hospital,” Eddie reassures. He lets go of Buck’s wound and pulls him into a seated position, then rolls him awkwardly onto his back. “I got you,” he says as he stands.

Eddie staggers beneath Buck’s weight but manages to get him down three rows worth of steps and onto the gurney without the young EMT’s help.

“We’re staged just outside the north entrance,” she says as she begins to push Buck toward a set of doors.

Eddie nods sharply. “He’s got a perforating chest wound, probable pulmonary laceration, and a history of pulmonary embolism. Allergic to naproxen,” he rattles off as he pushes the gurney alongside her.

“Um, okay, that’s—are you a doctor or something?” she asks.

“Firefighter,” Eddie corrects. “We both are.”

The closer they get to the exit, the harder Eddie has to work to keep pace with the EMT. He must be coming down hard as the adrenaline fades. A few spots cloud the corners of his visions. He blinks them away.

The doors to the outside fling open, revealing two paramedics from the 136.

“Diaz, is that you?” one of them asks.

The best Eddie can do is nod.

“Shit, and that’s—”

Eddie’s ears start to ring.

“Diaz, were you shot?”

No, he tries to say. One of the paramedics grabs him under the shoulders, and the other pushes his t-shirt up until—

Oh.

Huh.

He has been shot.

The paramedic in front of him is saying something, but Eddie can’t quite understand it. Over his shoulder, the EMT looks blurry and horrified.

The spots in his vision return with a vengeance, and in his last few moments of lucidity, it occurs to Eddie that the bullet in his abdomen is probably the same one that ripped through Buck’s chest.

Then, the world fades to black, and Eddie thinks nothing at all.  

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝚂𝟸!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @starkeyisthelastname

5.8K

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

Rafe and the Reader are both from Kildare Island. They both attend the same college. *Kildare Island cartographers, this is not accurate. I am aware 💕*

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Praise kink, ownership kink, softboyfriend!rafe, pet names, Ward is a dick, verbal abuse, physical abuse, swearing, drinking, drinking and driving, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, gore, smut, cum play, cum tasting, mask kink, major character death, unprotected p in v, choking, rough sex

Reader’s POV:

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Rafe mumbles as he leans into your neck, kissing you gently, his large arm wrapped around you. You rest your hand on his thigh, letting him pull you against his broad frame as you do your best to calm down.

There was a list of things, really; it’s the night of The Purge, after all. The terror behind it was never easy to think about. Then, to top it all off, your very first dinner at the Cameron’s place. Somehow, you found yourself more nervous about the latter. Taking a deep breath, you melted against him, your lips finding his for a soft kiss. “Nothing, baby. Just a little anxious.” You whispered against his mouth. Rafe draws the same breath, not wanting to wave off your worry.

This was always a difficult night; the houses and residents of Figure 8 always seemed to get hit the hardest. The hatred, violence, and aggression The Cut held inside for this side of the island were clear, rightfully so—vandalism, theft, arson, beatings, murder; complete and utter chaos. But the Kooks weren't innocent either; they never are. Their crimes on Purge Night seemed to go unnoticed, brushed under the rug, their faces hidden under satirical masks. By the morning, when everyone pulled themselves out of their safe rooms, the manicured streets would be torn to shreds. The Kooks would be in “mourning” for the rest of the year, attending fundraiser after fundraiser, gala after gala, to return their neighborhoods to how they once were.

“You’re gonna be alright, princess. You have your safe room. We have ours. We can talk on the phone all night. Aight? I’m gonna look after Rose and Wheezie; your dad promised me that you’d be safe. It’ll be just like any other night.”

“I wish we could’ve stayed on campus,” your voice whispered as you lifted your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes burned from the heat of the tears threatening to spill down yours cheeks.

“That campus is gonna go to shit, princess. Always does. Tons of kids with rage to spare. We’re safer here.” You look up at the TV screen, Rafe’s words affirmed as they showed CCTV footage from the year before, your college campus flickering across the screen. It looked like a war zone… Rafe was right. The both of you were safer here.

“Reports had shown last year’s Purge had been the most successful to date, with the most murders committed.”

The journalist speaks with pride as she delivers the news. You could feel the chills run down your body, goosebumps flaring across your bare thighs. Rafe, of course, took notice of this, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. “We’re graduatin’ next year. We’ll have a place of our own, just you and me,” He assured, reminding you of that sweet truth.

“Just you and me,” You echoed as you matched his pretty blue eyes. Wheezie’s phone buzzes, making you match her gaze across the living room. She’s an eavesdropper, lovingly so, her mood shift evident after listening your conversation with Rafe, knowing that it might just be Rose, Ward, and herself next year. Her protector, gone. “You too, of course, Wheez,” you smiled at her. She purses her lips, fluttering her lashes, quickly hurrying herself back to having her face buried in her phone to hide her emotion.

"Red or white?" Rose asked sweetly, her hands resting on a wine glass as she waited for your reply.

"Red wine, please." You smiled. “Thank you.”

"Rafe, would you like red?" She asked, earning a nod in reply from him. Rafe glanced over his shoulder, watching his stepmom run four glasses of wine. "Dinner will be ready in five.” She announced.

You gave her a polite smile and nod, nerves bubbling— this dinner was a staple in the Cameron house. It was like Thanksgiving in July: immaculate, decadent, excessive. A love letter to the Pogues, to give them just one more reason to hate the Kooks before the sirens sounded.

“Who knows, maybe next year we can Purge together,” Rafe whispers against your ear. The suggestion alone made your stomach fall. The unseriousness in his tone evident as he razzes you for shock value. But he’s joking… right? You let out a small breath when you heard his laugh, his arm gripping you tighter. “M’kidding, pretty.” He chuckled, amused by your reaction.

The jingle of a collar pulled your thoughts away as Rafe’s dog, Penny, rounded the corner and made her way over with a jump onto the couch. The large golden retriever snuggled next to you as she always did, making you smile softly at the momentary distraction. Rafe reached down, scratching her head with his grin. “Think Pen would rather spend the night with you than me, sweetheart,” he coos as he looks at her, making the sweet girl wag her tail. “Traitor.”

You looked at her, touching her soft fur before speaking. “Next year, it’ll be you, Rafey, me, and Wheez,” you speak to her sweetly as you scratch her head.

“That’s right,” Rafe hums happily.

"Dinner's ready,” Rose calls from the kitchen. Rafe weaves his larger hand in yours, leading you toward the table. Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair and waited for you to take your seat before pushing it in. It was the sound of heavy footsteps that made the both of you glance up, seeing the patriarch himself. Ward Cameron. Rafe looks over his plate as he sits down, praising Rose and avoiding eye contact with his father as the older man sits across from him.

"So Alexis, how is school going for you?" Ward asked, causing Rose and Wheezie’s conversation to hush as he mentioned Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, Alexis Thornton's name, not yours. You were taken aback a little, but tried not to show it on your face. You didn’t know how to respond but did your best to save yourself the embarrassment.

"Umm... It's going great. Thank you." You said quietly, deciding to let it go.

"Y/n, I’ve actually been thinking about going there too," Wheezie emphasized your name with a sugary, sweet smile. “You know, when the time comes,” she adds casually, peering out of the corner of her eye at Ward as she swirled some pasta on her fork. She was waiting for her father to correct his mistake, but to her surprise, nothing came.

"Really? That’s amazing, Wheez. You should come out for a visit soon, and I can show you all our favorite spots.” You told her, picking up your wine glass to take a small sip. That’s when you heard Ward scoff, making you look in his direction. “She’s a child,” Ward rasped, followed by a mocking laugh. ”What are you gonna do? Take her to a bar?” His words were cold underneath a fake smile.

The confused look on your face said it all as you replied to him. “Obviously not,” You laugh him off, taking a similar tone towards him. Did he really think you’d take a 13-year-old to a bar? “There are some great restaurants, fun coffee shops, and a few cute little boutiques I’d love to take you to.” You said, focusing your attention back over on Wheezie.

Her smile brightened at your words, giving you an excited nod to her head. You turn your focus back to the head of the table, watching as Ward throws back the rest of his first glass of wine. It vibrated against the table as he slammed it down, gesturing to Rose with his other hand. As if he needed another. “Well, I’m hopin’ your grades are better than his,” Ward mumbled, cutting off Rose’s pour, three fingers from the top of the glass.

“I have good grades, but I’m not sure what you mean by that. Rafe’s grades are great.” You told him, your hand squeezing your boyfriend’s leg supportively under the table. You watched as Ward raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing around the wine glass before he set it down.

“He’s not on Academic Probation anymore? How many chapters did I miss?” Ward snickered cruelly as he matched Rafe’s eyes and yours. His words were harsh and cutting as he tried his best to embarrass his son in front of everyone. If one were to ask if Ward had any regrets, the only one he had would be not having a bigger audience to humiliate his eldest child.

"Uh, no. Not since the first year,” Rafe responded, his voice breaking slightly with anger as he spoke up. His blue irises flashed darker, meeting his father’s gaze as the man gave him a smirk. ”Real proud of you, son. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Ward drawled out in a thick southern accent laced with nothing but hate.

“You and your family gonna be alright tonight? Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut,” Ward asks as he slides his spoon across his tongue to cover the slight grin he’s holding back, taking a bite of crème brûlée. Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut… He means that in more ways than one— physically close, just a bay separating the two. Financially close as well, new money and a new family business, skirting the line between Kook and Pogue; still enough coin to pay for a membership at the Island Club.

Rafe knew precisely what he meant, Ward’s wicked double-entendre conjuring up fury. Calling you the wrong name was the first thing that had pissed him off; now his father was being rude to you just for the hell of it, and that was a whole other thing on its own. It was only a matter of time before he absolutely lost it.

"So, Alexis, what’s your brother up to these days-”

"Jesus Christ, Dad... Her name is y/n..." Rafe snapped, banging his giant fists against the table, the delicate china clattering and clanging on the flat surface. Ward chuckled at his son’s outburst, knowing he was the reason for it.

"Sorry, son. I can't keep all your girlfriends straight," He laughed before turning to you. "You don't mind if I just call you Alexis? Do you, sweetheart?" He slurs, a sly smirk on his lips.

"I do.” You reply quietly, trying your best not to cry from humiliation. He was just being an ass, but everyone's eyes on you were making you very uneasy. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, your appetite suddenly gone. Rafe took one look at you and shook his head.

"Alright... I think we are good. Are you good, sweetheart?" Rafe asked, already knowing the answer. He stood up abruptly, reaching for your hand. His other rips the bottle of wine off the table and passes it to you before snagging the crème brûlée as Ward reaches for seconds.

"M’takin’ her home and I’m leavin’ in the mornin’,” Rafe spat. “By the way, Dad, why don’t you stop drinkin’? Huh? You’re not gonna be good for shit if I gotta protect your ass too, fuckin’ pussy.” Ward was seething, wasting no time in grabbing Rafe by the shirt, pulling him down to meet his cold, dead eyes.

“The hell did you just call me, boy?” His voice was low as he twisted the fabric tighter in his hand.

“Called you a fuckin’ pussy,” Rafe responded with a level tone, not letting his nerves get the best of him. Ward’s face fell as he let him go, only to push him back towards the wall—Rafe bumped into the decorative table, sending one of Rose’s ornate vases crashing to the floor.

Rafe took a long drink from the wine bottle, just waiting for another storm of insults that would surely fly from Ward’s mouth. The vase was shattered all over the hardwood, the table quiet as everyone felt the tension thick in the air. Taking a breath, the older man hung his head in exhaustion for his disappointment of a son. This was a regular occurrence for the tumultuous pair, and Rafe’s voice was eerily calm again when he turned to his stepmother.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll clean that up when I get back,” Rafe mumbles, his head nodding over to messy ground. Rose, who didn’t want to set her husband or stepson off even more, just gave him a soft nod and a weak smile.

“Hurry back,” Wheezie blurts out, not wanting her older brother to be out after the sirens called. She was about to say something else when her father interrupted her.

“If you’re not back here in an hour, m’locking the damn gate, Rafe,” Ward warned. ”You know I have no problem lettin’ you stay out there all night.” He hissed. You gave Ward a look of disgust, unable to hide it at the lack of emotion he carried for Rafe. You saw his eyes quickly meet yours, watching his lip twitch slightly. His gaze softened, holding a tiny fraction of remorse from the fact you saw just how awful he treated his own blood.

Fifteen minutes to your house, fifteen minutes back, leaving you thirty minutes to spare. "Wine?" You asked sweetly, passing your boyfriend the bottle by its neck.

"Please. Definitely need it after that shit show.” He exhaled, wishing he had something stronger. He took a healthy swig of the red liquid, finishing the bottle with a tipsy laugh. “Oh shit.” He chuckled dryly, tossing it in the back of the truck as you glanced back at him, his cerulean eyes met yours in a glassy stare.

"Fuck, y/n, that was embarrassing," he pushed out as he drummed his blunt nails against the steering wheel. "I've been lookin‘ forward to you meetin’ them for a while, and - and my dad always finds a way to mess it up." He stammered. You scooped up a bite of the stolen crème brûlée, feeding him. Rafe groaned at the taste of the decadent dessert making you giggle, the sound easing his sour mood for a moment. “We will never be like that,” he sighed, tone serious as his striking blue eyes bored into you deeply.

“Never.”

You knew Rafe was running high on many emotions. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval; deep down, he knew he would never receive it. Though the moment was sad, hearing him talking about the future with you brought some sense of peace. You knew his parents couldn’t care less, and you could only hope and pray, that didn’t make him have any second thoughts about the two of you. The feeling of the spoon slipping from your hand pulled you from your thoughts as Rafe now had it to get another bite. “So ready for this night to be over with.”

You let out a sigh, looking down at your lap before back up to your handsome boyfriend. “Neither can I, baby. Neither can I…” You said, your nerves setting in all over again. Rafe could read you, deciding to lean in and place a kiss on your lips for reassurance. He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in close as his tongue played with yours. He was kissing you as if it would be the last time, but he would never utter those words out loud. Pulling back slowly, he rested his forehead against yours. “Drive home safe, Rafe.”

“Promise, princess,” he said, his voice vibrating against your mouth before kissing you once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer than usual before getting out of his parked truck and heading to your house.

You look out your window, staring across the shimmering water of the bay. It’s quiet— calm. But that won’t last for long. Soon, both sides of the Island rise. The TV glows in your bedroom, illuminating the space around you as the news continues to run story after story from the years before, scaring some and inspiring most.

You wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, snuggling into your pillows as you wait for the announcement. Rafe hasn’t called yet or answered; I just hope he made it back to Tanneyhill okay.

“This is not a test.”

Your heart falls into your stomach; your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you hear those five words you’ve been waiting for. Your eyes shift away from the window as you take in the words on your screen.

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am. And, for the first time since its inception, no one has been granted special immunity from the Purge. No citizen or group will be exempt. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

The siren blares making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight; the blood in your frozen body runs cold.

“May God be with you all.”

His eyes widen on yours, breaking away in disbelief, staring down at nothing but the handle of the blade. The knife was lodged deep in his stomach, your mind dizzy as Ward gasped for breath.

You never thought you’d be one to actually do it. The night was already dangerous, and here you were, back at the infamous Tannyhill amid the mist of chaos. It was your right, though, and he was why you were doing this in the first place. Seeing the way he could no longer spit those venomous out or give you a look of intimidation made you hold such power over him. This was giving you an indescribable high to see him almost silently pleading with you despite it being too late.

You were doing the world a favor, and oh my god, the gasp he let out made you realize this was really happening. Yanking the blade free, you watched as he stumbled back. Ward tripped over the hallway rug, his body falling onto the ground with a loud thud. The house was quiet except for the sounds of Ward fighting for air, his hands reaching out for anything to help pull him away from you.

He couldn’t survive. If he found out it was you, it would be over, everything… And that couldn’t happen.

Stepping towards him, you sank to your knees and looked into his eyes. The purple LED lights on your mask reflected in his reading glasses, his eyes behind it leaking with pathetic tears. Fucking pussy. You didn’t think you had it in you, lifting the knife above your head without any tremble to your hands.

“This is for Rafe.” You bring it down, stabbing him in the heart, sealing his fate. The strike was brutal, and you could swear you felt the tip of the sharp blade pierce into the hardwood floor. Blood covered the hall, the fight over as his body grew still beneath you. You waited, his chest no longer rising as you watched him lay there, now lifeless. Forcing the knife out, you took a deep breath and rolled your neck to release the tension of the night. The nerves, the anxiety, all of it put to rest as you rid the world of this evil man.

You and Rafe would never truly be happy if Ward was around to ruin every moment. You knew every family event or special occasion would be tarnished just like it was tonight. Not only that, but the cutting words, scarring digs, and emotional abuse he let his son suffer. You couldn’t stand to hear him or see him treat the man you loved this way anymore. That dinner earlier was the last time he got to make Rafe feel that way ever again.

Lifting up your mask, you let your emotions go as you laughed at his now vacant body. “Fuck you, Ward.” You spat, only to feel your heart skip a beat as the sound of a familiar collar jangled down the long hallway. Your stomach dropped, the realization that you had been in the house too long and caught the attention of Penny. If Ward had been scanning the house, there was no way that Rafe wasn’t doing the same thing. You could only hope he was in the safe room with Rose and Wheezie.

You rose to your feet, seeing the golden retriever trot towards you a little faster as she recognized your scent through the disguise. Leaning down, you carefully scratched her fury ear and whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Penny girl.”

The sound of a deep voice made that sinking feeling come back to your lower belly. “You hear somethin’, girl?” Rafe’s booming tone, not even trying to be quiet as his large shadow stands at the end of the hallway.

Fuck.

No… No…

You took two steps backward, clutching the knife in your shaky hand as he took two large strides forward. Turning around, you sprinted towards the door and downstairs. You ran past the living room, ignoring the thought that you had been snuggling there only a few hours earlier. His steps grew louder, and his voice echoed through the mansion as he yelled, “STOP!”

Your lungs were burning as you looked over your shoulders you tore out onto the trimmed front lawn. Your own boyfriend, on your heels, making you hold back a scream as you made a shot for the thick trees on the other side of the house. It offered you a place to hide and catch your breath as your rapid heartbeat rang through your ears. You found yourself crawling next to a tree, the pure darkness, your only hope of survival as you tried to stay out of sight. You tore off your mask, quieting your breathing as you hid with the palm of your blood soaked hand.

You listened to his heavy footsteps fading fast. You took a minute to think, knowing you couldn’t go back to the front of Tannyhill without being seen. The barn... You would wait it out there for the night to get the heat off of you and then find a way out. You’d clean up and come back to console Rafe. Making sure the lights on your mask were off, you tugged it back on your face and stood up.

The North Carolina night was warm, making you feel sticky as dirt and blood caked your skin. You made your way through the dark woods until the small white barn came into view. You looked at it, your mind racing with different scenarios. What if he called? What if he decided to leave and saw that your car was parked down the road? What if he finds you? Would he kill for what you did?

Slipping into the bar, you followed the beacon of light pouring down from above. Your feet creaked along the old rigid floor as you made your way over to the ladder. You climbed until you couldn’t, taking a small, tired huff. You felt a little better until you realized you had left your knife behind. If Rafe had come across that, it would have been over, and now it was just another thing that you would have to figure out later. If there was a later anyway…

You crawled over to the corner of the upstairs loft, looking down out of the small window. It was an eerie scene as your eyes studied the surroundings below: a couple of four-wheelers, a dirt bike, and two covered cars. You shivered, reaching for the tarp beside you, pulling it over to hide yourself, just in case.

CREAK.

Your eyes shot open, making your head peer out from behind the blue tarp. You froze in horror as Rafe stepped through the open door, his large silhouette and crystal eyes shining into the room. He took a breath before letting out a frustrated growl. “I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE!” He screamed, the anger and sadness evident in his tone. You brought a hand to your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as his footsteps moved throughout the space.

You watched his every movement as he walked across the loft floor, getting closer to you. His heavy and erratic breathing filled the once-silent space making your heart race as he stepped close enough for you to catch something shiny. You let out a small gasp, seeing the same knife you’d used to kill his own father. The wood creaked underneath his weight as if he heard the noise you let out. You shut your eyes once more, pleading with him in your mind to just go away. You had to hold onto hope for the miracle that he would give up, and you could see him in the morning without having to explain this situation. That was if he would let you explain.

When you thought things were quiet enough to take a peek, you slowly opened your teary eyes only to meet the very ones of the man you loved. His hand wrapped around your throat before you said anything, his grip strong enough to lift you off your feet effortlessly. He squeezes, shoving you into the hard wall. You couldn’t die at the hands of your boyfriend. You weren’t ready, your voice coming out in a pitiful squeak as the tears flowed underneath your mask. “Please stop.”

His hand twists his hand in your hair, his eyes widening as he recognizes those silky strands. He immediately pulls the mask away from your face, his emotion changing. “Y/N?” He asked, looking at you as he calmed his breathing. You heard the knife drop to the ground with a clang before you listened to the sweet name he always called you. “Princess…”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze until you felt him cup your cheek. The pad of this thumb ran across your soft skin, which you instantly leaned into. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. You whimpered against him, the terror you had been feeling now washing away. You could feel him smile against your lips; a grin on his face as he pulled back to look down at you.

“You beat me to it.” He spoke in a hushed voice as he watched your eyebrows come together in confusion.

“I… I beat you to it?” You stuttered, earning a chuckle in response from Rafe.

He nodded with a hum as his hand reached up to run through your hair. “Mmhm.. I’m guessin’ you did this for me? That right?” He asked, his other hand holding up the mask you once had on. You looked at it, almost afraid to admit anything.

There was no lying to him, though; you let your head fall as you took a shaky breath. “Yes. I couldn’t stand the fact of him being here another day.” You said, meeting his eyes as carefully looked up at him.

Rafe studied you briefly before his raspy voice spoke out into the darkness. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while. Haven’t you?” He asked, watching as you nodded in silence.

“I have.” You whispered, still unsure if this was set up.

It was him murmuring ‘me too,’ his hands squeezing your hips that you knew he was being genuine. “You should have told me baby. We could have done it together. Huh?” He smirked, his fingertips coming to the button of your dark jeans. Something about you taking his father’s life for him so that he no longer had to deal with the pain and suffering the man caused him had him feral. He didn’t know you would be the one he caught; his family had a lot of enemies, after all. Knowing it was, you had him feeling an entirely different way.

He moved his hand from your pants, coming to his own crisp white shirt to pull off. His toned upper body gleamed under the moonlight shining from the window. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, your bloody manicured nails tracing over his broad chest and down to where you could pop the button of his pants open. You heard his breath hitch as you reached even further, giving his hard-on a squeeze. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you in for one last kiss before he turned you to face the wall. He pressed against you from behind, his hands yanking down your jeans and panties in one go. You step out of them, the heat growing more in your lower tummy.

“Co’mere.” He rasped, leading you to the tarp you had once been hiding under. He pulls you down with him, straddling his lap as he works to remove the thin shirt you wore. You reach down into his boxers to pull his hard length out, the fat head soon poking your drooling hole. You feel the burn as he stretches you out, your pretty cries echoing through the barn. You were so full of him, taking all of him as he glided into your soaked core.

“Holy fuck… Rafe!” You gasped, your nails digging into his chest as your head spun with pleasure and adrenaline. Even the way you felt after killing Ward felt nothing compared to the way Rafe made you feel. His eyes looked up at you as he worked you along his body, cock filling you up in the best way.

“You’re so perfect. Yeah? Don’t forget that. My goddamn girl, princess. Fuck. You’re mine.” His voice was like velvet as he reached between the two of you to rub your sweet little pearl in circles.

You were a mess, involuntary clenching around him as you rode him. He let out a groan, watching those pretty tits bounce each time you came down. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Oh my god, baby…” He grunted under the sounds of your skin slapping against his. You were high on all of this, euphoria running through you as you lifted yourself off of him just to come back down with a slam.

“Yeah? You like the way I feel wrapped around you?” You bit at him, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his throat. You watched as his eyes rolled back while you squeezed, his head tilting back in pleasure. His thick digits on one hand continued the torture on your clit while the other grabbed one of your plush tits.

As much as Rafe loved for you to take control, he couldn’t help but reel you back by rolling you over to be on top. He slams back into you, watching your mouth fall at the sudden change in position. His long cock hits your sweet spot, making you arch your back off the tarp. “Hold still, princess.” He mumbled, gripping the back of your thighs to bring them higher. He spreads you open, nearly folding you in two as his toned hips thrust into you.

“Fuck Rafe!” You squeal, eyes looking at the space between you. The light illuminating through the small loft window reflected off his abs, flexing as he pounded into you. His thick cock shiny with arousal as it rammed into you.

“You know I gotta take charge. Can’t fucking help it when you got a pussy like this, sweetheart. Can you take a little more for me, baby?” He breathed out, watching as you nodded the best you could as you grew closer to your climax. “Mphff? You deserve it, baby. I swear you do.” Rafe says, hooking your legs over his shoulders and letting you take his pounding.

You clawed at him, whining, leaving your babbling mouth as you drew closer to exploding. The heat in your stomach was about to burst, and your thighs quivered. “M’gonna cum.” You mumbled out, your chest breaking out in a flush.

His rough fingers found your clit once more, bringing you to the edge as he rubbed it just enough for you to let go. Clutching at his broad shoulders, you cry out and let him bury his face in your neck as he relentlessly drilled into you. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in this pretty pussy.” He gritted out, his mouth constantly growing more filthy the closer he got.

“Need your cum inside me. Please give it to me.” You begged, breath still short as you were barely off your high.

“Yeah, Princess? You need it? Fuck, you need my cum?”

“Cum in my fucking pussy, Rafe.” His eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice. You felt this cock start to swell and throb inside of you, his groans vibrating off of you as heavy loads of warm spent filled your walls. You whimper softly, his head pulling back only to meet you for a kiss.

He took a few before slowly pulling out, his eyes heavy as he watched his seed slowly spill out of you. It was quite the sight and feeling to have came inside you for the first time on the same night you killed his father. He can’t help but travel his hand down, pushing the sticky liquid back into your swollen hole with a smile. “Fuck.. I love you.” His voice hoarse as he admired all of you.

You let out a quiet giggle, the feeling of being full of him making you satisfied. Grabbing his wrist you lifted his hand to your mouth, sucking on Rafe’s big fingers dripping with his cum and yours, before letting them go with a pop. “I love you too, baby.” You said softly.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” He asked, his facial expression turning more serious as if he needed reassurance.

Without any hesitation, you sat up and wrapped your hand around his bare bicep. “Anything.” You whispered, and you meant that.

A wicked grin spread across his face as soon as he heard that. He looked out at the still-dark sky and hummed in thought. “You know it’s still early. Wanna take the dirt bike and get out of here? I bet we can have some fun.” He said, glancing back at you.

“You have a mask?” You asked curiously. Were you and Rafe really about to go out and Purge? Reaching over to his discarded jeans, he pulled out a black ski mask from the back pocket. He ran a hand over his sweaty bangs, pushing them back to tug the material over his handsome face. His ocean eyes shined through, the same devilish smile on his face.

“What do you say, princess?”

Lily!!!!! You are such an amazing writer and friend. Thank you so much for writing with me 💕☺️🤭🩷 I will forever be a fan of your work. 🥹

⭐ tag ⭐ <- tag list on my pinned post (if your name is crossed out, your tag isn't working💕) @floredaqueen @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @theeternaloptimistt @ditzyzombiesblog @cl4uus @aariahnaa @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @oxpogues4lifexo @babygorewhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayor-blog @starkeysprincess @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart

[valleyofheartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

University AU

Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader

angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending

WC: 9.7k

Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasn’t something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.

Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!

two August’s ago, you fell in love.

you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you don’t seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.

you remember everything.

bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. you’d sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.

it was under the tree you found your muse.

you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.

and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. it’s like everything is suddenly moving slower. he’s clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.

(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)

you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you would’ve done a much better job.

✾

the second time you see him is at a party.

you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.

you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.

“Y/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And don’t drink anything random people offer you.” Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.

you smile, “I know, father. No need to worry about me, it’s just my first party.”

Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, “He has a reason to be worried, you’re a little too sweet for your own good.”

you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.

Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kuroo’s arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.

“Watch it, are you drunk already?”

Bokuto grins, “Pre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.” he pauses, looking at you, “And the lady-bro.”

you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.

“Tetsu, can we get drinks?” you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and we’ll go.” he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.

you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.

you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kuroo’s shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?”

he frowns, “I’ll come, give me a sec.” he doesn’t wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.

you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kuroo’s friends stands by, and you assume he’s keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.

Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what he’s doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.

you down it in one go, looking back at Kuroo’s slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. “What?”

he shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Didn’t know you were so thirsty.”

you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.

despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.

and then, your eyes land on him.

he’s standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.

broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.

his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.

when your eyes go back to his face, you’re once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. he’s not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesn’t smile very often, but it doesn’t take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.

you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.

“Oh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?” a voice croons next to your ear.

you whip your head back with a glare, “Tetsu, no.”

he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if he’s too busy laughing to see.

“Oh, c’mon cutie, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little… nicer.” he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.

you tilt your head, “Huh? You know him?“

Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.

“We aren’t close, but I do know him since he’s on the same team as me,” Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. “i’d say i’m closer with his friend over there.”

when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.

your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.

what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.

“Oh, your man is looking here.”

maybe not.

“Hey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.” he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. “No, thank you. I’m not going to defrost his heart like he’s some piece of frozen raw meat.”

he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. “Well, you should prepare yourself, they’re both coming here right now.”

you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, “You’re fucking lying.”

“Such a foul mouth, cutie.” he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, “Hey, man.” he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.

you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. they’re both tall, but thankfully you’re used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.

you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” you’re thankful you manage to sound stable.

“I’m Adriah.” his friend says with a half grin. it’s boyish and charming, but you’re more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

his voice is deep, it’s almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.

you always loved dark chocolate.

the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.

✾

a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.

you’re close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.

you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones you’d like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when he’s feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when he’s about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.

you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when he’s caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.

“Kiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!” you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.

it’s 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.

the lump on the bed barley moves, “Oh great, so I’m your last choice. I’ll pass.”

you smile, giggling. “No, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!”

he lifts the covers, sitting up. he’s shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. “Put on a shirt you… perv.”

you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, “I’m the perv? Not the one who’s red in the face and can’t even look me in the eye?”

you blink harshly, “I can look at you! I’m just… respecting your boundaries.”

you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.

you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.

you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.

he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. “So what now, genius? You made us fall.”

you shoot him a dirty look, “Well nobody told you to fall with me.”

“This is the ‘thank you’ I get? Next time I’ll let you get hurt, brat.” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

you pout, bottom lip pushing out. “You’d let me fall and get hurt?”

he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions you’ve yet to unravel and discover.

suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you don’t make a move now, you never will.

you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.

✾

a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.

it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.

so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.

he treats you exactly how you’d like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.

and then you’re laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.

“Y/n, we need to shower.”

“One minute.” you mumble quietly.

you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. it’s gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.

you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.

you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, “Seriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.”

he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. “Are you sure you can walk? I’m not sure you can after all that.”

you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.

“Ha-ha. So. Funny.” you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.

when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.

you’re laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.

his voice pulls you back, “Y/n,”

you hum in response.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.

your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.

so what if Kiyoomi isn’t ready to date? you’re okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. you’re okay with that and not having a label. you’re okay with not being exclusive.

you’re okay with having him to this extent.

you’re okay.

“I understand. Don’t worry, Kiyoomi.”

✾

five months later, everything is the same.

and yet, nothing is the same.

“I don’t like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.” Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashi’s side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.

you pull your own fluffy throw closer, “There’s nothing to break off, Tetsu. There’s no label.”

Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. “You can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!” he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.

Akaashi coughs, “Bo, please put your air conditioning lower. We’re all going to get sick at this rate.”

Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, “Seriously? I think the temperature is fine.”

“That’s because you’re not human, you beast.” Kuroo snorts.

Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. “I’m not a beast! You two are just weenies!”

you giggle, “Thank you for not including me with them, Kou.”

he salutes you with a cute little grin.

so maybe your friends were against your… situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, you’re sure you can change his mind over time.

naive, perhaps, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart.

✾

everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.

you’re invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.

it’s not your first game, but you’re excited nonetheless.

until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.

she’s pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.

Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you can’t stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.

when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. “Ah, that’s one of his friends from high school.”

your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression you’re showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.

when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.

she’s sticking to him like a leech.

you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didn’t deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.

“Hi, Kiyo.” you smile.

he smiles back at you, and though it is small, it’s there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.

the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.

“Um, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, i’ll give it to you after the game.”

he raises a brow, intrigued. “You can’t give it to me now?”

you huff out a laugh. “No, silly. It’s a reward for you playing today. I know you’ll do well regardless of the outcome.”

his face smoothes out as he nods, “Okay, I’ll be waiting then.”

without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while you’d like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.

the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. it’s times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadn’t played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.

you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.

“Y/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!” Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.

you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. “Sorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?”

he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.

“Have fun at dinner! I’m going to find Kiyoomi.” you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.

you can’t seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.

you see red.

because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume they were about to kiss.

without even knowing what you’re doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.

he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.

suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. “What were you two doing?” you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.

the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. “Uh, I’m gonna get going now. I’ll text you later, ‘Omi.”

your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.

the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.

when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.

“Want to explain what that was?” his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.

you swallow, “Shouldn’t you explain? Why were her arms… Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?”

he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. “Why the fuck does it matter? You’re not my girlfriend.”

surprisingly, the words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.

you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.

maybe that’s why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.

“I never liked that about you.”

it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. “Never liked what?” you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.

“The way you act around me. Like we’re in a loving relationship when really, we’re just friends who sleep together sometimes.” the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.

“I’m sorry?” you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.

his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.

“You need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?” he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.

“I don’t like the way you coddle me. I don’t appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.” he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.

“And, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. It’s uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like you’re my fucking girlfriend.”

it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.

you inhale shakily, “I just… I love you, I’m sorry.”

you look up, to see who’s holding your heart hostage.

“I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”

it’s him.

and fuck, it’s always him.

✾

two summers from now, Sakusa knows he’ll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.

he’ll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.

happiness.

Sakusa doesn’t exactly understand the emotion. sure, he’s felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?

he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.

and then his thoughts go back to happiness.

oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.

“So… you and Y/n?” Atsumu drawled.

Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. “It’s not like that, don’t go spreading anything.”

the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. “Hey! I would never!”

and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. it’s more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.”

Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.

Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. “She’s good for ya, ‘Omi.” he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. “Don’t fuck it up, man.”

Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.

if he’s a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.

when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.

it’s been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.

he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadn’t even apologized, you’d instead pushed at him even more.

and then… he ruined everything.

he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.

it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.

he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’ he was able to find out that he was blocked.

he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.

fuck.

he had really done it now, hadn’t he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.

but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.

it can’t end here.

he makes it his mission to try to meet you.

first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.

except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.

the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him so easily, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

I deserve this, he acknowledges.

I deserve this and worse.

it’s the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows you’re working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.

so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. there’s only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.

and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.

the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.

unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.

third time’s a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it won’t be that easy.

it’s friday, and even though he had no idea if you’d be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so that’s how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.

“Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?”

he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.

“I’m not sure.” he states quietly.

“That’s okay! Is there anything in specific you’re looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?”

he frowns; it feels like all he’s been doing is frowning lately. “Uh, maybe something bright? Or… something that symbolizes forgiveness?”

she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.

and that’s how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.

silence.

he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.

he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. he’s been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.

he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how you’d handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.

so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.

he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.

he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.

“Hey man!” his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.

Sakusa hates it.

his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. “What are you doing here, Moyota,”

he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. “because if you can’t tell, i’m busy.”

Komori snorts, “Busy doing what? Moping?”

Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.

“Get your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.”

he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.

“Listen, I know you’re upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness won’t get you anywhere.”

Sakusa continues to lay there. “Mhm.”

Komori ignores the dry response, “There’s a party on Friday. You should go.”

“Why should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?” his voice comes out muffled but he’s sure Komori can hear him regardless.

“Y/n will be there.”

that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. “How do you know?” his eyes narrow.

Komori rolls his eyes, “Because, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.”

he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares you’d get from fellow students. but it didn’t matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.

but now everything’s different.

now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.

“I’ll go.”

✾

the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows it’s only because he’s missing you. when friday arrives, he’s feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.

he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. he’s wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.

“About time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?” his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.

Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, “My hair isn’t pin-straight, that’s why. Why are you still sitting down, let’s go.”

Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.

the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. he’s suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.

when he walks inside the house, he’s immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. it’s absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why he’s there as he takes another step forward.

“Let’s go to the back! It’ll be less busy there!” Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.

Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, “These people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?”

Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. “Not sure, let me check with my friends. I’ll ask where Kuroo is.”

he scowls, “Why would that matter?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave her alone at a party.” Komori shrugs. “They’re real close.”

something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, he’d let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.

a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you don’t forgive him he’ll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didn’t.

but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?

he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.

his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.

maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.

and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.

his heart beats loudly in his chest.

he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.

ah.

so he loves you.

-

Sakusa waits.

he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.

it’s been about an hour, and you’ve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole you’d left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.

he’s contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.

he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.

he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when he’s right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.

“Hey.”

his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.

your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.

he shifts on his feet, “Can we talk?”

Kuroo answers for you. “No, you can’t. You’ve said enough to her.” he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.

Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.

“I just want to apologize. And, confess something.” his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.

Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. “It’s still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.”

“I'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.” the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.

Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.

he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.” your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much he’s missed it.

Sakusa’s shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesn’t even care that your friends are glaring him down.

“But-”

you cut Kuroo off, “Really, it’s fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.

he huffs, “Fine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.”

Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kuroo’s words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?

you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. “Let’s go.” you don’t wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.

he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. it’s empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.

you turn around, crossing your arms. “So? You wanted to talk?”

he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. he’s thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you don’t notice.

“Yeah.” he exhales, “How have you been?”

you shrug, expression guarded. “Fine.”

he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.

“I miss you.”

the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.

god, why did he just say that?

you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than he’s ever seen. “You should be happy you don’t have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?”

his face drops, and he knows whatever expression he’s showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.

“I was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.”

you stare at him silently, before nodding.

Sakusa breathes out, “I’m sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just… angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.”

he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. “I realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.”

he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. “It was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

he pauses, “Of course, except when I ruined everything. I’ve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.” his lips tug up, the expression bitter.

“Because it was after that I realized my feelings for you.”

your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. “What are you saying, Sakusa?”

he ignores the ache of you using his last name, “That I have feelings for you.”

the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.

“I love you, Y/n.”

you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, “No, no. You don’t love me, Sakusa.”

he doesn’t understand your response. sure, you wouldn’t be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely don’t believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like he’s going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.

“What? I’m serious, Y/n. I love you.” he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers.

you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.

Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.

he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.

✾

"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.

so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.

but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.

you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.

but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.

the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.

without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.

the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.

you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.

why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?

but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.

someone like him.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.

you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.

you really wish you could stop thinking about him.

Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.

its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.

your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.

its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.

fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.

you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.

you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.

when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.

your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.

you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.

you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.

you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.

he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.

you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.

"He's gone." he says, voice low.

you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.

"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.

he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.

you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.

Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."

you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."

you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.

you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.

the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.

he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.

when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.

"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.

you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"

he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."

the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."

he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.

but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.

he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you can’t find it in you to refuse his comfort.

"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.

he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."

you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."

"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.

"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.

he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.

you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.

but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.

"Okay." you say softly.

he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"

you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."

he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.

you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.

tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.

but that was a problem for the future.

for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.

EXTRA:

"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.

he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.

you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."

you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."

you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."

he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."

you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"

he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."

you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."

the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.

love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.

because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.

you love him, and you're not sorry.

a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:’)

[avocado-writing]

hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!

The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.

God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?

You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 

Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.

Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 

The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 

A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 

“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 

“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”

“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 

“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”

You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.

Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”

A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.

Well, you hope you never see him again.

By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.

You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.

Yeah. You’re happy. 

Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.

You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.

The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.

“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.

“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”

“Sure.”

Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.

Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 

Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”

You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.

“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”

“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.

You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.

You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 

“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 

“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.

He does see you next week.

The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.

“You’re always reading huh?” 

His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.

“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”

Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”

He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 

“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”

Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 

Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.

What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”

DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!

Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.

“Sure, why not.”

Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.

“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”

“I can be. What time’s the screening?”

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!

Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”

Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.

You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 

Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 

He turns up. 

He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 

“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”

He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 

When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.

“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.

It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 

One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 

“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 

“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 

You beam. 

“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character��s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”

You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 

“Hmm?”

He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 

“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 

“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 

His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 

“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”

You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 

His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 

“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”

“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 

“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”

He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 

At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 

The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 

“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”

He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.

“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 

“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you still… will you still come up?”

He softens. 

“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”

It does. 

And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 

“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 

“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”

You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 

“Oh, even this?”

You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.

Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 

“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”

You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 

“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”

He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 

You do not make it to the bed. 

He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.

Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 

He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 

“That was the plan.”

He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 

“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 

“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 

You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 

“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”

He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.

“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”

Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 4

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5

Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.

“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.

“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.

“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”

You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?

“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”

You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.

Did Bucky care about your distress at all?

You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.

How and why did he work for him anyway?

His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.

The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.

He won.

“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.

Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”

A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.

“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”

The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.

You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.

“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?

“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”

You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”

“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”

You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.

“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”

“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.

“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.

“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”

You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.

He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”

“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”

“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”

Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”

“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”

“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”

He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”

You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”

“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.

The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.

Either way, you were his pet.

“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.

“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.

You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.

“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”

His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.

“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.

He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.

“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”

As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”

His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”

“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.

A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.

“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.

“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”

“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.

You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?

It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.

“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”

He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”

The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.

Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”

“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”

You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.

“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”

You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.

“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”

“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.

“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”

Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”

“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”

It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”

“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?

“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”

He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”

“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.

“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”

“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”

“Careful. I just might scratch you.”

He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”

He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”

He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.

“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”

You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.

Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.

“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”

Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.

Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?

Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.

“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”

You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.

But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.

“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”

You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.

Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi