#finally got a chance to read all four chapters of this and it is so good!

[minyoongisnewthing]

Han river lullaby chapter five | myg

Chapter one, Chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, exs to lovers, eventual smut, idol!au, co parents, second chance romance.

Chapter warnings: Sassy uncle Jin should carry his own warning honestly, other then that I don’t believe there are any. If I’m wrong please let me know and I will happily add them.

Word count: 4.8k approximately.

Authors notes: I hope everyone had a great Easter, and I am still so amazed and thankful for the love my story has gotten every comment, like and reblog has meant the world to me, but finally we are here, half way through this story already! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

That Thursday you found yourself standing in Han's preschool hallway, surrounded by tiny art projects and bright construction paper decorations. Parent-Teacher interviews always made you nervous, but this time felt different—because this time, Yoongi was coming too.

You spotted him before he saw you, making his way down the colorful hallway. Even in casual clothes—a simple black sweater and jeans bucket hat pulled low—he looked slightly out of place among the finger paintings and alphabet charts. But the moment Han spotted him, none of that mattered.

"Appa!" Han broke free from your grip, racing toward him. "You came!"

Yoongi's whole face softened as he caught Han, lifting him easily. "Of course I did, I Wouldn't miss it."

Your heart squeezed at the sight—at how natural they looked together, at how Yoongi's eyes crinkled with genuine joy as Han babbled about his artwork on the walls.

"Mr. Min?" Han's teacher, Ms. Park, appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly in recognition before she schooled her features into professional warmth. "And Ms. Y/L/N. Please, come in."

Inside the classroom, Han proudly showed Yoongi the cubby where he kept his school bag, his favorite reading corner, and the plant he was helping to grow. You watched as Yoongi absorbed every detail, asking questions and responding with appropriate enthusiasm to each new discovery.

"And this!" Han dragged Yoongi to the wall of family pictures Han and his pre-school class had drawn. It was an array of stick figures and bright crayon chaos. "This is my drawing of us!"

Your breath caught as you looked at the crayon masterpiece—three stick figures, one tall with black hair (clearly Yoongi), one medium with your hair color, and one small figure between them, holding both their hands, all with big smiles on their faces.

Yoongi went very still beside you, his eyes fixed on the drawing.

"That's beautiful, Han," Ms. Park said gently, sensing the weight of the moment. "Why don't you show your parents what you've been up too in the reading corner?"

As Han tugged you both toward his favorite books, you caught Yoongi discreetly wiping at his eyes

“damn, the little Picasso got me”  

“Softy” you teased nudging his shoulder playfully

The parent-teacher conference itself was surprisingly smooth. You and Yoongi sat side by side, your knees occasionally brushing as Ms. Park went through Han's progress.

"Han's doing wonderfully," she assured you both. "His social skills are excellent, he's very creative, he loves to draw as you saw, and his reading level is actually a tiny bit above average for his age." She smiled warmly. "Though he does have quite the stubborn streak when he sets his mind to something, and sometimes has trouble relaxing at nap time."

You and Yoongi exchanged knowing looks.

"Wonder where he gets that from," you muttered under your breath.

Yoongi scoffed quietly. "Oh, like you're not just as bad, the kid didn’t stand a chance."

The familiar banter felt... nice. Natural. Like maybe you could really do this, that the ease so far hadn’t been a fluke, you could be parents together, support each other, create something stable for Han.

After the conference, as Han showed Yoongi every single book he'd read in the past month, Ms. Park pulled you aside.

"I just wanted to say," she began carefully, "that Han seems... happier lately. More settled. Having both of you here, involved..." She smiled. "It makes a difference."

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat. "Thank you. We're... we're trying."

Looking back at Yoongi and Han, you found them deep in conversation now, about a particularly elaborate block tower Han had insisted on building. Yoongi was crouched at Han's level, listening intently as his son explained his architectural vision, complete with dramatic hand gestures.

"Eomma!" Han called out. "Come see what Appa and I built!"

As you joined them on the floor, watching Han direct Yoongi on proper block placement with all the authority of a tiny construction foreman, you couldn't help but smile.

This was what mattered. These moments, these small victories, this careful dance of building something new while honoring what was.

One block at a time

Later that afternoon, the school reported that Han had taken the best nap he’d had in weeks. And if you and Yoongi shared a smile when picking him up for a park playdate, well, that was just good parenting in your book.

Bright and early the following Saturday morning saw you bleary-eyed, barely caffeinated, and desperately second-guessing your life choices as you pulled into the parking lot of the children’s boutique Yoongi had told you about. According to him, Seokjin insisted it was the place for anyone serious about decking out a kid’s room just like his nephew deserved—and Seokjin had many opinions, especially when it came to his self proclaimed and honorary role as favourite Uncle.

The store was all soft lighting and whimsical displays—tiny clothes that cost more than your entire outfit and themed nursery setups that looked plucked from Pinterest fever dreams. You were still shaking off the fog of sleep when Han, warm little fingers gripping your hand tightly, suddenly lit up with recognition.

“Uncle Jin!!!” he squealed, his voice echoing across the store like a cannon blast. Before you could blink, he let go of your hand and bolted across the polished tile floor, launching himself straight into Seokjin’s waiting arms.

Yoongi’s steps faltered beside Jin. He watched the scene unfold with an expression that could only be described as mild betrayal. You had to bite back a laugh.

“Wow,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “The little traitor, et tu Han.”

A soft chuckle slipped from you. “Drama queen we just can’t compete with the magnetism of Worldwide Handsome up there, I’m afraid.”

Ahead of you, Jin lifted Han easily onto his hip like he did it every day, beaming with pride as the little boy chattered away animatedly. Jin caught your eye and gave you and Yoongi a wink over Han’s shoulder before disappearing further into the store with your son, already pointing at some space themed bedding display.

Yoongi sighed, falling back into step beside you as you wandered down the nearest aisle filled with cloud-shaped nightlights and hand-stitched throw pillows.

“I’ll remember this next time he begs for Dino nuggets, and insists I’m the only one that makes them right.” Yoongi said, mock bitterness in his tone.

You nudged him playfully. “You’ll still cave. You always do.”

He didn’t argue, just smiled in that soft, private way he sometimes did when he thought you weren’t looking.

A few aisles later, you and Yoongi found yourselves crouched in front of a display of bed linens, deep in a heated debate that had somehow become more intense than necessary. His sweater sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, a sure sign he was taking this decision far too seriously.

“I’m just saying,” you argued, picking up a plain navy-blue comforter set, “he’s three. He changes his mind more than he changes his socks. Plain is safer.”

Yoongi held up a comforter set covered in astronauts wearing different coloured space suits. “Okay, but this? This is epic. Look at this little guy! He’s riding a comet!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re such a pushover for him.”

He grinned, unabashed. “Not denying it.”

You were just opening your mouth to tease him further when a sudden burst of animated voices reached your ears. One of them was unmistakably Han—high-pitched, passionate, and growing louder by the second. The other, deeper and equally dramatic, was Seokjin.

Yoongi stood up, peeking over the display. “What the—?”

You followed quickly, and the sight before you nearly had you doubling over with laughter.

In the middle of the store stood Han and Seokjin, fully locked in what could only be described as a theatrical, borderline operatic debate in the middle of the glow-in-the-dark sticker section. Hands were flying, eyebrows were raised, and both parties looked like they were seconds away from presenting PowerPoint slides to back their claims.

“I told you, Uncle Jin, the star ones are cooler!” Han insisted, clutching a packet of star and planet stickers to his chest like they were a rare treasure.

“But dinosaurs, Han, you like dinosaurs.” Seokjin countered, holding up his own pick with flourish. “They roar. These stickers will make your room prehistoric chic.”

Han crossed his arms, glaring up at him with the fiery resolve of a kid who’d watched too many courtroom dramas. “But uncle Jin, space is cooler. Dinosaurs are for babies!.”

Yoongi choked on a laugh beside you.

“Told you his mind changes more than his underwear, but should… should we break that up?” you asked, eyes wide as Han stomped his foot for emphasis.

“No, no,” Yoongi said, biting back a laugh as his eyes crinkled with delight. “I wanna see how this plays out.”

The argument escalated into a flurry of sass, dramatic sighs. Seokjin whipped his hair for emphasis. Han mimicked him with a flick of his whole head. You could’ve sworn you saw a store employee peeking around the corner to spectate.

It ended, of course, with Han triumphant, the galaxy and star stickers clutched in one victorious hand while Seokjin sulked dramatically beside him. But in true Jin fashion, he still tossed the dinosaur stickers into the basket on the way to the register.

All because he was apparently physically incapable of leaving a store without buying just one more thing, Han decided to push his luck by picking up a moon shaped night light, and with nerves of steel turned the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d seen him give up to seokjin, who ruffled his hair and called him a ‘little rascal’ while putting that night light in the cart too.

As you and Yoongi approached, Han was already bragging.

“I told you space was better, Uncle Jin’s just a sore loser isn’t he Appa.”

Seokjin gasped like he’d been mortally wounded. “You wound me, child!”

Yoongi snorted, scooping Han up as he beamed in victory.

“You absolute little hustler,” Yoongi muttered, shaking his head with a grin. “We’re all doomed.”

You couldn’t disagree

Back in Yoongi’s apartment, the three of you had barely stepped inside Han’s room before he clapped his hands in joy and launched into full explanation of his vision.

“Okay! Appa, you do the moon. Eomma, you do the stars. Uncle Jin, you can help me open the stickers,” Han said, already climbing onto his little stool to sit like he was presenting blueprints for a spaceship.

You couldn’t help but laugh, exchanging a glance with Yoongi as you started remaking Han’s bed. The new navy-blue comforter set contrasted perfectly with the pale walls, giving the room a cozy, dreamy vibe that made it feel more like home.

Once the bed was made, Han handed Yoongi a large, glow-in-the-dark moon sticker with a sense of ceremony.

“This one right above my pillow, please,” he said with the utmost seriousness, like its placement determined the success of the entire galaxy.

“Right here,” Yoongi murmured, already stepping up onto the bed to reach the spot Han pointed to.

You turned, just in time to catch Yoongi mid-stretch.

His black crew neck had ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of toned skin and the subtle dip of his waist. His jeans—worn in and soft—fit him like they were tailored, perfectly hugging his frame like sin as he reached for the wall.

You froze, your mouth suddenly dry.

God. Really? Your brain chose now to betray you like this?

You tried to look away, tried to focus on something—anything—else, but your eyes wandered on instinct, tracing the lines of his back, the definition in his forearms, the way his shoulder blades moved beneath the fabric.

The way those damn jeans made it impossible to not look.

Your jaw clenched as you quickly shook your head, trying to banish the thoughts before they spiraled any further. Focus, focus. Stickers. Your child. Room decorating.

But when your gaze drifted sideways, you immediately regretted it.

Seokjin was already watching you, leaned casually against the doorway with his arms crossed and a slow, cat-like grin spreading across his face.

You’d been caught. And Seokjin, of all people, was the last person you wanted clocking you checking out Yoongi’s ass.

Your eyes narrowed, fixing him with what you hoped was your best Don’t you dare stare.

Seokjin raised one teasing eyebrow.

“Not. A. Word.” you mouthed, but it only made him smirk wider.

Thankfully, Han was far too busy trying to peel a sticker off its backing to notice the silent exchange happening above his head.

Yoongi stepped down from the bed with a satisfied hum, brushing his hands off. “Moon, secure and glowing.”

“Perfect!” Han beamed, giving a proud nod. “Now stars everywhere!”

“Everywhere?” Yoongi asked with mock dread.

Han nodded solemnly. “They go all over, Appa. Even the closet.”

Yoongi chuckled, already peeling another sticker. “Guess we’re building a universe huh.”

You smiled as you watched them, heart twisting in that painfully sweet way it always did when Yoongi and Han were like this—effortless. Familiar. Like no time had passed at all.

And then, from behind you, Seokjin muttered low enough for only you to hear, “Staring’s free, you know. But touching will cost extra.”

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

He only laughed harder.

You stood back and took it all in — the glowing constellations scattered unevenly across the ceiling, the oversized moon sticker positioned perfectly above Han’s pillow, the navy comforter smoothed neatly over the bed now crowned with a dozen mismatched plush toys. It was chaos, yes, but it was Han’s chaos. Bright and expressive and entirely his.

Your chest swelled with quiet pride — not just for the room, but for you and Yoongi. Somehow, between awkward co-parenting schedules, you’d managed to give Han this little piece of magic. A space that felt like home in both places.

You started gathering your things, folding Han’s jacket over your arm as he lit up his new moon night light and busied himself assigning names to every single sticker on the wall. You were just reaching for your bag when Yoongi touched your elbow lightly, pulling you aside, his voice dropping low so Han wouldn’t overhear.

“Y/N,” he started, and already his tone was heavy with guilt, “I know I was meant to have him from Thursday through to Monday, but—” he paused, exhaling through his nose. “There’s an event in Japan. It’s important. I really tried to get out of it, but…”

He didn’t need to finish. You saw it in the way his eyes flickered with regret, the way his fingers tapped absently against the palm of his hand.

You shook your head quickly, brushing off the concern before it could settle between you. “Yoon, it’s okay. I don’t want or expect you to halt your career, or any obligations you have.,” you said sincerely. “I’ll talk to the hospital about the crèche schedule or book a sitter during my shift. We’ll make it work — it’s fine, really.”

But Yoongi didn’t look reassured. He looked like a man caught between two worlds — one where his dreams lived under spotlights, and another where they giggled while naming glow-in-the-dark stars. His jaw tensed like he had more to say, like he wanted to argue or apologize more deeply, but all he managed was a quiet, “You sure?”

You nodded with a soft smile. “Positive. He’ll be okay, Yoongi. You’re doing fantastic, we're doing fantastic with him.”

That seemed to break something loose in him — the tension in his shoulders dropped slightly as he looked past you, watching Han hold court almost with his stickers, babbling animatedly about a galaxy he’d created on the wall to his toys.

“He really does love it here,” Yoongi said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You followed his gaze and smiled. “No Yoongi, he loves you. This place is just a bonus to him, a place he sees you.”

Yoongi glanced back at you, eyes softening with a gratitude he didn’t quite know how to voice. And you weren’t sure he needed to.

You’d both managed to placate Han about the change in plans, sweetening the disappointment with the promise that Appa would come to your house for dinner next weekend. It had thrilled him enough to bounce right past his sadness. And now, as you moved through your small apartment tidying the last few things and adjusting the lighting in the dining nook, you realized something: it felt right having Yoongi here again. Not just dropping Han off or picking him up at the door—but here. Inside your home. Moving through your shared space. Not as two exes cautiously orbiting around past wounds, but as parents who were trying.

It had been too long since he’d existed in this world of yours. The lived-in clutter of Han’s books and toys, the candle flickering softly near the TV, the music humming gently in the background. You wanted him to see it—how you and Han lived. To feel the warmth of this home you’d built. Not perfect, but full of love.

The banchan were already laid out: crisp kimchi that snapped lightly with each bite, seasoned bean sprouts glistening with sesame oil, and fluffy white rice steaming in its bowl. The rich, garlicky scent of marinated pork drifted from the oven, its sweet-salty glaze of soy sauce caramelizing to a glossy sheen. The entire apartment felt wrapped in comfort.

A sudden knock, sharp and eager, rattled the door. It was all the warning Han needed. He tore through the room, feet pattering wildly across the wood floors, his voice a shrill squeal of joy.

“APPA!” he shouted, practically vibrating as he skidded to a stop.

Your heart skipped—whether from Han’s excitement or your own nervous flutter, you couldn’t tell. Calm down, you told yourself, smoothing your hands down your sweater. This wasn’t a date. It was dinner.

Still, when you opened the door and saw him—really saw him—you felt like someone had knocked the wind out of your lungs.

Yoongi stood there dressed simply but devastatingly well: a crisp white button-down that skimmed the sharp lines of his shoulders, sleeves casually rolled to his forearms. Dark jeans hugged his legs just right, worn at the knees in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. His black hair was slightly styled, pushed back from his forehead, a few pieces falling rebelliously into his eyes. And those eyes—deep, dark, and warm—met yours with a quiet familiarity that pulled something taut inside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, voice like a slow glide of velvet.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide how your pulse leapt. “Hey. Come in.”

As he stepped past you, his cologne curled around your senses—clean, woodsy, and subtle. Something that smelled like skin warmed by sun and just a hint of spice. Your breath caught for half a second as the scent lingered between you.

Han grabbed Yoongi’s hand before the door had even closed.

“Appa, Appa! Come play in my room! I wanna show you my new cars, the green one zoomed so fast, you won’t believe it!”

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, warm sound from his chest. He ruffled Han’s hair with one hand, his other still clutching the boy’s fingers.

“Of course, buddy. But we’ve got to listen to Eomma—when she calls us for dinner, we come, okay?”

Han nodded with cartoonish enthusiasm. “Okay, let’s go!” And just like that, he tugged Yoongi down the hallway, already rambling about engines and race tracks.

You shook your head with a fond smile, watching them disappear. The soft sound of Yoongi’s low laughter trailed down the hall as you turned back to the table, laying out utensils with slightly trembling hands.

When you finally called them to the table, Han came barreling out, and Yoongi followed at a more leisurely pace, that same amused smile tugging at his lips. He moved with a kind of grounded calm—shoulders relaxed, movements fluid, always slightly slower than the world around him.

You gestured to the seat across from you, and he sat, carefully, like someone easing into unfamiliar territory. His long fingers rested loosely on the table’s edge, thumb brushing against the grain.

“I hope you still like dwaeji bulgogi,” you said, placing a generous helping of the glistening pork on his plate.

Yoongi’s lips twitched into a smile, eyes crinkling slightly. “You know I do.”

You offered a smile of your own, then handed him the rice bowl. “I figured I’d cook something you taught me how to make.”

That made him pause. His dark eyes flicked up, catching yours for a long second. Something unreadable—nostalgia, maybe, or something heavier—glinted there. But he didn’t speak it aloud. Instead, he reached for the bean sprouts, and his hand brushed yours. Just a graze. A whisper of skin. But it set your nerves buzzing like struck wires.

Your eyes met. And for the briefest second, the air between you tightened, a quiet electricity humming in the space that hadn’t existed here in years.

“Eomma makes the best food, right, Appa?” Han said suddenly, his cheeks puffed out with rice.

Yoongi broke the stare first, chuckling softly. “She really does.”

You swallowed, the air still thick around you.

Dinner went on like that. The food, the laughter, Han’s endless chatter. But beneath it all, those touches kept happening. Small. Fleeting. The brush of his fingers passing you the kimchi. The nudge of his knee under the table. The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking.

By the time dinner ended, you were flushed, your heart refusing to calm.

As you cleared the table, Yoongi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, watching you with that quiet attentiveness he always had. His voice, when he spoke, was warm, unassuming.

“Want me to help you clean up?”

You shook your head, waving him off. “No, you’re a guest. Don’t worry about it.”

He let out a dramatic yaa, rising to his feet, and made his way toward you, leaning against the counter like it was second nature.

“Ouch. A guest? Is that all I am?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing, but the smile tugging at his lips was boyish, charming.

You paused, mortified, glancing at him with wide eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant, you jerk.”

His laugh was low, honeyed and rich, and without thinking, your hand dipped into the sink, scooping up a handful of soapy bubbles. In a flash, you flicked them at him, white foam landing squarely on his perfect white shirt.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. He stared down at the soap on his chest, then looked at you like you’d just declared war.

“Oh, you are so in for it,” he said, mock-serious, already dipping his fingers into the sink.

“Yoongi, don’t—!”

Too late. He flicked water in your direction, smirking as you tried to dodge. Bubbles flew, giggles spilled from both of you like you were kids again, caught in the sheer joy of play.

At some point, you lunged forward, towel in hand, intending to retaliate. But instead, you collided with him—your bodies pressing close. His hands landed at your waist to steady you, warm and strong through the fabric of your shirt. Your fingers curled instinctively around his wrist.

You froze. And so did he.

You were chest-to-chest, breaths mingling, hearts pounding. The warmth of his skin seeped through the layers between you, the scent of his cologne so close now it was dizzying. Yoongi’s eyes searched yours, the humor draining into something quieter, something heavier. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then returned to your eyes.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

“Eomma! Appa! Are you okay?”

Han’s voice was a lightning bolt, jolting you both back to your senses.

You stepped back quickly, cheeks flushed, brushing stray bubbles from your arm. Yoongi’s hands slipped away, and he cleared his throat, trying to look unbothered, though that mischievous smile still tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, we’re okay Han,” he called out, loud enough for Han to hear, “Eomma just decided to splash me with dishwater for no reason at all!”

You scoffed, glaring at him. “No reason? You started it!”

“Slander,” he said, grinning.

Han appeared a moment later, clutching his stuffed bunny and looking very serious. “You have to say sorry, Eomma.”

You sighed. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Appa.”

“Can we have dessert now?” Han asked, voice hopeful.

Yoongi chuckled, ruffling his hair. “I think that’s fair.”

You turned back toward the kitchen, and as you reached for the dishes, Yoongi’s voice dropped low behind you.

“Nice apology… Eomma.”

You turned just enough to see that familiar spark in his eyes—and with no hesitation, flicked another bubble at him.

“Oops.”

Yoongi’s narrowed gaze told you this wasn’t over.

Dessert was simple but sweet—dairy-free ice cream with strawberries for Han, while you and Yoongi had regular ice cream topped with fresh fruit. Han happily dug into his bowl, swinging his legs under the table as he hummed in delight at the treat.

After cleaning up, the three of you settled into the living room, Han immediately climbing into Yoongi’s lap as you put on a Disney movie. The room was warm, filled with the soft glow of the TV and the rhythmic sound of Han’s little breaths as he started to relax against Yoongi.

Halfway through the movie, Han’s sleepy voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Appa, can you stay the night?”

Yoongi’s body stiffened just slightly. You felt it before you saw it—the way his fingers tensed against Han’s back, the way his jaw tightened just a fraction before he schooled his features into something softer.

He smoothed a hand over Han’s hair, choosing his words carefully. “Han, son… not this time, okay? Appa has an early morning tomorrow, a really big day.”

Han blinked up at him, sleepy but sharp, studying Yoongi’s face as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. You held your breath, unsure how he’d react.

Finally, after a long pause, Han let out a tiny, resigned sigh and burrowed further into Yoongi’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut.

Yoongi let out a breath of relief, his hand still rubbing slow, soothing circles over Han’s back. He glanced at you briefly, something unreadable in his gaze.

You offered him a small smile, knowing this was something that would take time—Han’s little heart was so eager, so full of love, but this wasn’t a wound that could be healed overnight, but was healing slowly.

Han’s little snores filled the quiet space, soft and steady, a reminder of how completely at peace he was in his sleep. You watched his tiny chest rise and fall, his hand clutching his well-loved bunny, and you felt the familiar warmth of love and protectiveness bloom in your chest.

Gently, you reached out and tapped Yoongi’s shoulder to get his attention. He turned to you, and you nodded toward Han before gesturing for him to follow. Together, the two of you carefully maneuvered Han into his room, mindful not to wake him as you laid him down and tucked the blankets around him.

Standing in the doorway, both of you lingered, watching the way Han snuggled deeper into his blankets, his bunny still firmly held against his cheek. The sight made you smile, but there was also something bittersweet about it.

“I’m sorry about that, Yoon,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

Yoongi shook his head, his voice soft but certain. “It’s okay. I really do have an early day tomorrow. You know… he snores like you.”

Your lips quirked up at the corner, amused. “Yeah? About the only thing he got from me, though.”

Yoongi hummed, his gaze lingering on Han before flickering back to you. “I don’t know… he has your eye color.”

You turned to meet his gaze and found something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place—soft, searching, something close to nostalgia. It made your breath catch for just a moment.

Instead of answering, you simply smiled, letting the moment settle between you. Then, with quiet steps, you walked Yoongi to the door, the air between you charged but gentle.

“Good night, Yoon,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Drive safe home”

Yoongi hesitated, his fingers brushing yours for just a fleeting second before he pulled away. “Good night, y/n”

taglist: @busanbby-jjk @jajabro @kam9404 @yoongiiuu93 @julseka07 @tea4sykes @marihoneywk @maryhopemei @sanarin @misschelliejeon @boraluv @wobblewobble822 @amarawayne @hyuninslutbbgirl @Granataepfelchen @mar-lo-pap @enfppuff @senaqsstuff @vainkiss @rinkud @lanyia

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part IX

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: emotional rollercoaster-ish? p having her last game :( SMUT (handcuffs...)

Wordcount: 11.9K

A/N: this is it, the final chapter. i know it's incredibly long but people voted to have a longer chapter instead of two parts so this is what i did. i genuinely can not thank every person who has read/liked/reposted this series enough - i never thought so many people would show so much love for what i've written and it genuinely moves me as a writer. i'm feeling surprisingly emotional letting go of Valerie and Paige, but i know the time has come. expect an epilogue eventually, but also tune in for my next series So It Goes, which will be a much longer project! anyways genuinely, ty from the bottom of my heart, i'm grateful for each and every person reading this <3 ALSO HAPPY GAME DAY WE BETTER DUNK ON ND IDC

-

“Shot clock at four, Chen to Bueckers,”

The four seconds somehow feel closer to a minute, time slowing down around me, people moving in slow motion as I step back and get settled behind the three point line. With a flick of my wrist I let the ball fly.

“Bueckers for three…”

My eyes follow the ball as it soars in an angle, silently praying it’s the correct one I had practiced over and over as it starts coming down. I barely hear the crowd roaring, everyone on their feet. This was our last chance and it was all up to me. What could be my final game in this uniform, with these people I loved could be over in a matter of seconds. I let the gratitude wash over me. If this is it then I’m incredibly blessed, but please God, don’t let this be it.

Like instant gratification for my faith, with a swish the ball slips through the net, the buzzer going off, barely audible over the uproar of the crowd deafening me. 

“GOT IT! Bueckers brings Huskies to a two point lead, taking them to the final four!”

The waves of relief and adrenaline fill me from head to toe when my teammates run to me, all of us jumping up and down. Clammy hands are grabbing me everywhere, squeezing my shoulder and ruffling my hair. We did it, the National Championship barely out of our reach now. 

“Thank God!” I sigh in relief, looking up to the sky in a silent prayer. I’m interrupted as the girls around chant “BDB, BDB” over and over, all circling me with excitement. I feel overjoyed, all the sacrifices, challenges I’d been through were worth this moment. I feel my eyes well up as I take it all in, the girls laughing with joy all around me, the crowd cheering louder than ever before this season, and Coach walking to me and patting my shoulder. That’s all I needed to know what he meant. I made him proud. The moment is nearly perfect, only one person missing to make it complete.

-

“BABE??” Valerie’s voice comes through the phone harshly, speaking loud over a chattering crowd of people.

“Why are we yelling?” I chuckle, leaning my back against the changing room wall, cold on my sweaty back.

“BABY THAT WAS INSANE!” She says, voice excited. “I’M AT TED’S SO I CAN’T REALLY HEAR YOU.”

“I’m so happy but fuck I miss you ma-”

“Wait Paige you there?!” She speaks over me, clearly not hearing a word.

“Val can you hear me?”

“P? You there?”

The beeps stop me, the call over before it even began. Rubbing my jaw I feel a twinge in my chest. All I wanted right now was her, the lost connection only reminding me more of the distance between us. It felt uncomfortable, almost painful in my body to be so far away from her.

the connections bad ):

paige i’m so fucking proud of you, you should’ve seen me i was jumping up and down

That’s okay ma. Wish I seen it too.

Wish u were here

It was selfish of me, in fact I had been the one to tell Valerie not to come watch us play. Last time she watched me, I’d been a mess. I couldn’t risk being distracted this time.

I had found my groove quickly, the fine line between being Paige Buckets and girlfriend Paige. A lot of it was due to Valerie’s surprising patience with me while I figured all this out. Somehow it made me better on the court too - I never found myself pretending to be someone else anymore. However, having my girl in the crowd watching me, cheering me on, well that was a different subject. I couldn’t help but fear that her presence would have me messing up, getting unfocused. And now wasn’t the time to test the waters. So I had told her to stay home.

Valerie wanted anything but that, her mouth quickly turning into a frown as I told her no. But after some arguing back and forth I sweet talked her out of it. 

“I thought you’d want me there,” her words still echoed in my head. As much as it pained me to admit, Valerie was right. Now that it was all done, all I wanted was my girl on my arm.

told you

Call me when u get home?

are you tryna get rid of me? 

Never

good

 -

My voice is slurred as I lock myself in the bathroom, hands clumsily handling the lock before I coo into the phone.

“Babyyyy,”

“Paige, are you drunk?” Valerie chuckles. I nod as if the girl on the phone could see me. After we won the drinks had been flowing, me and the girls locking ourselves into one of the hotel rooms and sharing a bottle of Tito’s. It wasn’t necessarily allowed but Geno and CD were usually good sports about it, turning their backs and letting us do what kids in college did.

“Perhaps,” I giggle, which makes the girl on the phone let out a bright laugh.

“You’re really milking that Unrivaled ad huh? Never heard you say that word in my life before that,” she teases.

“Are you tryna say I’m bad with words? What about ‘work tour’ and ‘I did all I could so God could do all I can’t’? Now those went hard.”

“Paige I’ve seen the folder on your phone full of lil things like that for you to say. You’re not that slick,” Valerie laughs into the phone. She was right of course. I wasn’t that slick. I might’ve been embarrassed by the way I’d been exposed, but I simply couldn’t. Hearing her voice, even when insulting me, had me weak in the knees.

“I love you,” I sigh into the phone, leaning against the cold marble of the bathroom sink.

“I love you too, P. I meant what I said earlier. I’m so fucking proud of you,” she murmurs, voice turning softer like it always did when she was telling me something important. 

Grinning to myself a sinister thought flashes across my mind, which I would usually keep to myself but the alcohol in my blood had me feeling bold.

“Whatchu wearing ma?”

Valerie scoffs and giggles into the phone, “Bro chill!”

“C’mon Val I won big today and I miss my girl,” I whine, the foolproof method to get the brunette to bend to my will working this time too.

“Well I just got in bed,” she murmurs, I hear her shifting. “Just in that T-shirt you left and panties.”

For a moment I close my eyes imagining her, smooth legs sprawled over the blanket, bare tits so easy to expose just by pulling that damn shirt off.

“What kinda panties?” I ask, my voice now hoarse and deeper than before.

“You’re not with the girls still?” Val asks but I’m quick to answer, impatient for the detail I had asked for.

“I’m alone, I’m in the bathroom in my room. What kinda panties?”

The phone catches the heavy sigh Valerie lets out, a sign of her own arousal growing, caused by the urgency, sheer need in my voice.

“Red ones, the lace ones with the bows?”

I cuss under my breath, pressing my thighs together, eyes still closed envisioning my girl.

“Take the shirt off,” I command, Valerie shifting to pull the top off.

“It’s off,” she whispers, her voice breathy with need. 

Biting my lip I throw my head back, desperate for her. “Can you show me ma?”

She doesn’t hesitate, less than a minute later a notification comes through. Fumbling with my phone I finally get the picture open, letting out an audible groan. It’s my girl lying on her back, back arching so her breasts are perked up, the bows of the red panties decorating her body, thick thighs pressing together deliciously. I can’t help but drag my hand into my sweatpants, sliding it beneath my boxers to find some sort of relief to my need.

“Fuck ma you’re so sexy,” I groan, my fingers swirling in my folds, making my knees shake. “You should- ah shit, you should play with yourself.”

“Yeah?” she asks so innocently I nearly come.

“Yea baby, I am.”

Suddenly I hear her gasping, which only makes me groan more. The adrenaline of the game, the post win euphoria and the need for my girl had made me soaked and the picture was only spurring me on.

“Tell me how wet that pussy is,” I whimper into the phone, the sounds of Valerie’s moans turning me on even more. The marble is cold against my lower back, but I’m only paying attention to the sounds filling my ear, and the way my fingertips rub against my clit, getting me to the edge quickly.

“So- so wet P, all for you,” she whines. 

“Need you to finger yourself baby,” I order, squeezing my eyes shut, lost in the memory of how her cunt felt squeezing my fingers. “Imagine it’s me.”

The girl lets out a sharp inhale, and I know she’s working herself close to the edge.

“Fuck a dub, you’re my prize,” I murmur into the phone, trying to control my moans. My words are only encouraging the brunette, making her moan louder.

“Baby, need you here so bad,” she cries out, voice turning more high pitched. I let my head lull back as I rub my clit in sloppy circles, feeling myself teetering the edge.

“I know baby, ‘m right here,” I breathe heavily, feeling my slick cover my fingers. “I’m not gon’ last long Val.”

Hearing that does it, her moans turning desperate in that familiar way - she was there too.

“P I’m gonna come!”

“Shit baby, come on,” I let out a groan, my fingers quickly working me over the edge as I listen to Valerie’s moans on the phone. Waves of pleasure wash over me as I grip the sink behind me, watching the picture of Valerie nearly naked on my screen. I lucked out.

“Oh fuck,” Valerie breathes into the phone as she comes down, my own legs still shaking from the climax.

“I know,” I exhale and pull my hand out of my pants, allowing some space for both of us to calm down. Now that I was feeling more sober it really hit me hard, the distance. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and inhale the scent of her hair, feel her body molding into mine. I know Valerie feels it too when I hear her speak.

“Can’t believe you’re moving to Dallas soon,” she murmurs quietly, her voice small. 

We had been tactically avoiding the conversation, both of us having the same fears of how the discussion might go. Long-distance was hard for anyone, but I barely knew how to be in a relationship. In only the last week or so we had ran into many issues mostly caused by me and my lack of communication skills. I was learning fast and I wanted to for her - but the weight of the future felt heavy on my chest and doubt was starting to creep in. Not all the time, but in moments like this. When I saw a glimpse of what might lie ahead of us. Many nights like these.

I had grown enough to know that this wasn’t the time to have that discussion though.

“Hey maybe I’ll get drafted to the Sparks, we don’t know yet,” I joke trying to lighten the mood, as if that was any better. Well for me it was, I wouldn’t have to live in fuck ass Dallas.

“Mhm,” she mumbles and I could tell from her voice reality was hitting her quick. Last thing I wanted was for her to be upset, so I try to steer the conversation once more.

“I’m so excited for this date I got planned baby, you’re gon love it,” I murmur into the phone washing my hands. Her tone shifts, now slightly lighter.

“It better be good, I’ve been waiting,” she jokes and I let out a sigh of relief knowing the difficult conversation could be pushed off to another day.

“Oh trust, it will be.”

-

I check my hair one more time, my brunette locks in a perfect blowout when there’s a faint knock on the door.

“Valerie! It’s for you I think,” my roomie Amy shouts. I quickly grab a sweater to throw over the black long bodycon dress I was wearing in case it got cold, taking my purse to go open the door. I could feel excitement swirling in my gut for our first date. Giddy like a child on Christmas morning I tiptoe to the door, my roomies all whistling at how good the dress made my ass look - which was precisely the reason I wore it.

Opening the door I’m met with a huge bouquet of deep red roses before I even see the blonde holding them. Gasping I grab the flowers, burying my nose in and inhaling. 

“Oh my Goooood,” I gleam, letting the floral scent fill my nostrils. Finally lifting my gaze I see Paige, with a stupid wide grin on her face watching me, looking fine as hell as usual. Her blonde hair is slicked back in a bun, wearing black cargos and a white long sleeve, diamond studs decorating her ears and a chain with the number 5 hanging off her neck.

“You look so good,” I gasp and throw myself at the blonde, wrapping my arms around her dramatically and kissing her. She chuckles but kisses me back, but when she sees my outfit her face falls.

“Val, the dress…”

I immediately frown, feeling self-conscious. “Oh… you don’t like it?”

“Oh God no I love it, wanna take it off you right now,” she says her voice low and quiet so my roommates don’t overhear. “But you’re gon’ get cold baby.”

“Well you didn’t tell me what to dress for,” I say slightly annoyed, still holding the bouquet. If she wanted me to dress a certain way she could’ve let me know. I was trying to give Paige the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t used to any of this, real dates, a real girlfriend.

“You right that’s my bad,” Paige murmurs, scratching the back of her neck. “You should change into something a lil warmer tho. I’ll put the flowers in a vase for you ma.”

“Fine.”

With a defiant groan I march into my room, leaving Paige to chat with my roommates, Amy and Layla. Neither the biggest fans of the basketball star after seeing the rollercoaster she put me through since we met. I knew they were still suspicious. I was just hoping Paige’s charms could win them over.

Taking off my dress I stand in the carefully picked lingerie staring into my wardrobe. Suddenly the door opens, the tall blonde making her way in and whistling when her eyes fall on the purple set on my body.

“NO! You’re not supposed to see yet!” I yelp and try to cover up with a pillow - unsuccessfully. Laughing, Paige closes her eyes and walks over to me bumping into my desk until her stretched out hands land on my ass.

“Well hello,” she grins, wiggling her brows, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Paige!! Stop!” I complain, though I liked the way her hands were feeling me up everywhere.

“Hey! I’m not lookin at least, gimme something,” she says and stands behind me, her hands snaking around to squeeze both my breasts, making me both flustered and giggly.

“Okay I gotta get dressed P or we’ll never get out,” I chuckle and grab a pair of white cargos and a black and white striped sweater to put on.

“Fineeeee,” the girl groans and plops herself down onto my bed, still with her eyes closed. Once the clothes are on I walk over to her, standing in between her legs as I lean down and kiss her cheek. Her blue eyes open, sparkling when she sees me.

“You look perfect,” she hums, shoving her hands in my back pockets to feel my ass up. 

“Well that dress would’ve been nicer,” I murmur, still a little annoyed. Paige, rolling her eyes, stands up and walks me out the door by my shoulders.

“Well now you won’t be bitchin’ about being cold and shit,” she says.

I had no idea what Paige had planned, but she had been acting all sly about the plans the entire week. It had grown so irritating I almost wanted to tell her off for it, but I knew it was her way of showing she was excited which in turn excited me as well.

The air is surprisingly warm despite the grey overcast caused by the cloudy sky as we head out. Paige opens the door to the passenger seat of her Jeep for me, quickly walking over to the other side and climbing in.

“Sooo where are we going?” I ask, trying to peek into the backseat for any clues. Paige proudly grins as I lean back to find only water bottles, a couple of Nike shoe boxes and a basketball in there. Way to play into every stereotype.

“You’ll see Val,” she beams, her hand coming to rest on my thigh as she accelerates on the highway. “It’s like a little over an hour away.”

Knowing it would be pointless to pry, I stare at the scenery out the car window, enjoying the comfortable silence falling over me and Paige - a rare occasion considering her mouth was always going. I felt at ease, her presence wrapping me in a duvet of calm. Of course my fears were still there when it came to the girl next to me. It would take months of building trust and communication to let go of all that had happened between us. The thing was, we didn’t have months.

In fact a month was all we barely had left before Paige would be leaving for Dallas. Obviously it wasn’t official yet, not till the draft. But we both know what the future holds. 

I look at Paige, her side profile outlined beautifully against the light shining in through the window behind her. My eyes roam the tip of her nose, the curve of her lips as she raps along to some song I wasn’t paying attention to. Paige had become a master at the art of evasion, the unmentioned topic heavy between me and her. Mentally I was beginning to prepare for the worst, to face the truth. We could barely stick by each other’s side the past few months and we lived on the same campus - how could we ever make it through long-distance while I finish my masters?

And what then? I pack my shit up and move to Dallas? Would Paige even want me there? She’s gonna meet so many new people, her whole life is about to change. Even if she wanted me now, I’m not so sure she’ll want me a year later. The idea was terrifying, causing a twist in my gut, us finally sorting our shit out just to have to give all this up. So I was just trying to soak in every moment I had with her, even if they were our last ones before the inevitable.

Eventually my eyes land on blue waves stretching across the horizon before us as Paige turns left into a parking lot. I feel excitement growing in my chest for what the girl might’ve planned, pushing away the thoughts of the inevitable end that was looming right in front of us.

“Isn’t it a lil cold for swimming?” I ask confused as Paige parks, my gaze taking in the waves crashing against the sand, only a few others walking along the coastline on the cloudy day. I had always found there to be something extremely serene about a grey day on the beach, the ocean smelled different, the humidity causing the air to grow heavy.

“We’re not going for a swim ma, I’m taking you on a picnic,” she grins and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s proud of this. Paige Bueckers, the All-American basketball star, the one I’d been begging to let me sleep over just a few months ago taking me on a picnic. My heart nearly bursts with affection and I don’t fight the urge to lean over and kiss her. The blonde smiles into the kiss, her lips fitting against mine just right.

As I reach for the door Paige slaps my hand away, the sting making me jump. 

“Ow what the hell!”

“Don’t even think about it,” she says as she gets out and walks to the other side to pull the car door open for me.

“Ma’am,” she teases but I look at her, still rubbing my hand.

“That hurt y’know,” I mumble, it didn’t really but something about Paige made me play up my theatrics.

“I did what I had to, now stand the hell up,” she commands pulling me out.

“This isn’t my idea of romantic P,” I complain as she walks me to the trunk of the car by my arm and opens it. I immediately swallow my words when I see what’s inside -  a checkered picnic blanket, pillows, a large picnic basket, a cooler and a small speaker.

“This better?” Paige asks, watching my face light up. I would never admit it but part of me thought she could never plan something like this, that it wasn’t her thing. I suppose I was wrong.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I gasp and wrap my arms around her neck and jump, knowing Paige will catch me everytime. She holds me up in the air by my waist and lets me pepper kisses all along her face.

“You deserve it ma, you deserve a whole lot,” she murmurs into my ear before placing me down, hands rubbing up and down my back. “Would give you the whole world if I could.”

Her eyes are blue and sparkling as my gaze meets hers. I wanna pause the moment, stay there with her forever.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Paige grabs all the heavy stuff insisting I grab the blanket and the pillow instead. Picking the perfect spot we set everything down, the blonde not letting me help the tiniest bit as she sets everything up for us. I inhale the salty air, humming as the scent fills my nostrils. The high-pitched screeches of seagulls echo across the waves and I step out of my shoes, letting the sand against my bare feet ground me.

“Aight, I think we’re set,” Paige says, setting open the picnic basket. Sitting down on the blanket I watch carefully as the blonde pulls out different foods. Chocolate covered strawberries, croissants and pastries - very elegant, very not Paige.

“How did you-?”

“I googled uh, romantic foods… and the girls thought this was a good idea,” she explains sheepishly, handing me a Coke from the cooler. “Is this lame?”

There’s genuine panic on her face and for the first time I notice a slight shake in her hands. Paige Bueckers was nervous. I could barely believe it.

“Paige I love it,” I reassure her but notice the way she’s chewing the insides of her cheeks, tapping her fingers against her Coke can. Without thinking I bring my hand to hers, our eyes meeting. “I mean it. I love this baby.”

She lets out a relieved exhale, a hesitant smile growing on her face. “I did good?”. Looking for praise, as always.

I nod. “Yes, P, you did good,” I grin and lean over to peck her cheek. Smirking, the blonde lifts her arm up to flex.

“Well yeah I knew that,” she rolls her eyes and I scoff when I feel a bead of water drip down my forehead.

Paige feels it too, her blue eyes darting to the sky. The clouds are turning dark above us at a rapid rate, an ominous sign telling us the date might end before it even starts.

“Did you check the weather before P?” I ask as more rain begins to fall down.

“Fuck…” Paige sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose in frustration telling me that she in fact didn’t.

I could tell that she was starting to feel discouraged, it was all a little hard for her - the relationship stuff. For me it was enough that she was trying, but that would never be enough for Paige. Always the winner.

“Maybe it’ll pass… it’s fine!” I assure her and grab a chocolate strawberry, trying to feed it to her. But all of a sudden the soft spring rain turns into a heavy downpour, my hair and clothes getting drenched in a matter of seconds, sticking to my skin. So much for the blowout I spent an hour on this morning.

“Forreal?!” Paige groans, blonde strands darkening from the rain. 

“We should probably pack up P…” I carefully tell her, getting up and offering a hand to her. She’s looking defeated and frustrated, staring at the ground. With a heavy sigh she stands up without grabbing my hand, head nodding towards the parking lot. 

“No, lemme. You get in the car so you don’t get wet,” she murmurs hopelessly, not meeting my gaze, clenching her hand into a fist.

“No I wanna help-”

“Valerie get in the damn car.”

I knew the blonde well enough to know there was no fighting her once she got like this, so I obey, grabbing the pillows and heading towards the car. I knew exactly what Paige was thinking - that perhaps this was a sign from God of what was to come, that we just weren’t meant to be doing any of this.

Then it hits me - an idea that might save this whole day. I empty the backseat and the trunk completely, placing everything neatly on the front seats (and wondering why she needed 3 basketballs in her car but… sure). After fiddling with the seats in the back I fold them flat, opening up plenty of space in the trunk. Grateful for the hoarding Paige had been practicing, I lay down some towels I found in her car and the slightly damp pillows, setting them up for us.

“Val I told you to get in, you’re gettin’ wet,” Paige lectures as she returns, quickly stopping in her tracks when she sees what I had done.

The back of Paige’s Jeep is laid out flat, the trunk open for a view of the beach stretched out along the horizon. It wasn’t what we had planned for, but I would be damned before I give up on this day.

“C’mon,” I tell the blonde as I climb in, sitting cross-legged as I watch her wordlessly follow. Both of us are soaked, hair dripping water and the fabric of our clothes cold and sticking to our skin. Nevertheless I was hellbent on making this work somehow.

Turning to Paige I smile proudly but she’s frowning, eyes locked on her own lap. She’s upset, not with me but herself.

“I’m so fucking bad at this Val,” she murmurs disappointedly. My heart aches for her, but also for me, terrified knowing the blonde didn’t like to do things she didn’t excel at - this being one of them. Maybe it was only a matter of time when she’d decide to give up on this. On us.

“Paige-”

“And then you fix everything, when I’m supposed to be the one taking you out. Fuck, Val, you should just be with someone who can actually do this shit,” she’s rambling on and I feel that fear growing with each defeated word she says.

“Paige! We’re supposed to be a team, sometimes you drop the ball and I pick it up, so when I drop it, it’s gonna be your turn, ok?” I tell her, my voice steady but stern. She meets my gaze, frowning and shaking her head.

“Ion got time to figure this all out before…” she sighs, a deep furrow in her brows, stopping herself before the painful words slip out. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

“Really? Now you wanna have that conversation?” I ask annoyed. She couldn’t just let me fix the date, she just had to start talking about this now. If there was something she really wasn’t the master of it was time and place.

“Well we gotta talk it out at some point ma,” Paige says, her rising voice making me feel defensive.

“Alright so during our first date then? Now?!” I say, closing the picnic basket.

Paige lets out a bitter chuckle, throwing her head back. “This ain’t counting as a date, trust.”

“Why do you have to be like that? I’m tryna fix this and you do that? I don’t need any of this,” I say pointing to the picnic basket and the cooler and the beach. “Just needed you with me and I woulda been happy!”

“Well I figured it wasn’t enough for you before!”

I know exactly what she means. How I wanted her to myself when she had a roster full of girls, how I wanted more. But the way she said it was like I was selfish, like it was too much to want her to myself. Like she didn’t want the same.

It hurts. I go quiet, averting my gaze from her. I feel my eyes burn but don’t let the tears fall. I hear the girl in front of me take a deep sigh, rubbing her jaw.

“Shit… Val, I didn’t mean it like that…” she murmurs but I don’t pay attention. 

“We should go back,” I sigh, defeated. 

“No no no, baby please, lemme try again plea-”

“I want to go home.” I say sternly and climb out of the trunk. I could feel my heart breaking, now that I got a preview of what was to come once Paige left for Dallas. We would never survive it.

We drive home in silence, but not the easy, comfortable kind. The air inside the car is heavy with things left unsaid. Once we get to Storrs Paige walks me to my dorm, leaning into the door frame as I take off my shoes, eager to get out of the freezing cold clothes, sticking to my skin uncomfortably. The red roses sit pretty in a vase on my nightstand, reminding me of the excitement of earlier and how quickly it had fizzled out. Paige was one of the most resilient people I knew when it came to her sport - however that certainly wasn’t the case in her relationships. It was as if all her fight was reserved for basketball.

“Can I come in for a bit?” She asks carefully.

“I need to get outta these clothes and shower,” I mumble to the blonde. I was hoping she’d fight me, plead to let her in.

She exhales but doesn’t, that quick to give up on us.

“Okay.”

She’s chasing my gaze, but I can’t look at her. Reality was hitting me faster than I’d like and it was so much more painful than all those times Paige went and slept with another girl. Somehow this was way worse. I don’t know how to react without starting to cry - so I don’t react at all.

“Okay.”

Paige sighs and touches my arm just for a second.

“I love you, I’ll text you.”

“Okay P, love you too.”

With that she leaves, no kiss, no hug and she’s gone. Just like she will be in a month or so.

-

“You’re so stupid Paige,” Jana rolls her eyes and the other girls nod in agreement. 

“Forreal you need like dating lessons or sumn,” Aubrey says, manspreading on the couch. I’m lying in the middle of the living room floor, retelling what happened just the other day with me and Valerie.

“I know how to date,” I scoff, throwing my arm over my face.

“No you know how to fuck, there’s a difference,” KK says and the girls hum, nodding their heads.

Azzi walks into the living room, holding a bottle of water, watching all of us gathered around me and my dramatics.

“What’s going on?” She questions, watching me sprawled out on the floor.

“Our BDB here started talking about the Dallas thing in the middle of their first date,” Kaitlyn shakes her head, making Azzi’s eyes widen.

“Girl… you’re an idiot.”

“That’s what I said,” Jana agrees. I groan and rub my face, I suppose they were right.

“That’s what I’m sayin’ tho, I dunno how to be in a relationship so how am I gonna do long-distance with anyone?” I ask, feeling dejected.

Aubrey throws a pillow on me but I was too tired to dodge, letting it land on me. “You’re so stupid.”

“What I’m saying,” Azzi hums, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You’re all about the fight and being resilient. You’ve been through so much shit and pushed through it but some relationship issues and you give up already?”

The words hit hard as I take them in. Because every single word was right. I was a fighter, a demon on the court at my best - so why wasn’t I fighting for me and Valerie.

“You love this girl right?” Aubrey asks, already knowing the answer.

“The most,” I admit, tilting my head to look at her.

“And she’s worth fighting for?”

Fuck yeah she was. More than anyone. I nod.

“Then what’s your problem?” KK asks.

Deep down I knew what my problem was. I was scared. Fucking terrified. I knew if I worked really hard for this and it all went down the drain, it would be the biggest pain of my life. But then again Valerie was worth that risk. I loved her with my whole existence, every cell in me burning for her. Letting her go without a fight might be the only thing that could hurt me more.

“You right,” I murmur and finally get up from the floor, checking the time. Her night shift had just started. “Anyone wanna go to Ted’s?”

-

The bar is crowded, the end of March bringing students from all over to spend the sunny spring day drinking and dancing. It’s pleasantly busy but not packed to the brim. Everytime I walk into Ted’s I’m brought back to the times I spent sitting in that one table by the corner, drinking Shirleys and watching over Valerie, begging that some sort of miracle would allow her to be mine. The way her mouth twisted into a smile each night I stepped in will forever be engraved in my mind. 

To my surprise, I’m met with that same, familiar smile when our eyes meet. I thought she might be upset with me, but the way her perfect face lights up behind the bar makes me feel relieved. 

She scurries to me from behind the bar counter, and hugs me tight. Without a care in the world I kiss her, not caring who might see, what the students watching might say behind our backs. Who cares, I’d be leaving in a bit anyway.

Valerie kisses me back, humming into my mouth clearly pleased about my affections. The smell of coconut enamors me, drawing me in. 

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur against her in between desperate kisses.

“Forget it, just happy you’re here,” the girl sighs, her kisses filled with a similar urgency. Neither of us wanted to fight, not knowing these were our last moments in Storrs.

Her fingertips press into the back of my head, pulling me in closer when we’re rudely interrupted.

“I love you guys but Riri I need your help,” Natalie laughs, making drinks hurriedly. 

We pull apart, her brown eyes twinkling in the low light. “Sorry Nat,” Valerie chuckles, giving me a smile that says everything’s okay. Hesitantly, we let go of each other, the girl returning to her job. 

“So I think y’all are good,” KK laughs and the girls join in. I shrug, still feeling the tingle of her kiss on my lips. “Should we go sit?”

“You guys go, I’ll be there in a bit,” I wave the girls off, taking a seat on a stool by the bar. My eyes watch closely as Valerie works, taking in every movement. Her concentrated expression, the slightly clumsy way she handles the bottles because of how small her hands are. It all makes me love her more.

I sit there for 15 minutes, 30 minutes, then an hour has passed but I barely realise, living for the stolen glances and giggles between us. I could watch her forever. For the rest of my life.

“Do you come with the drink?” I overhear some guy, definitely shorter than me and younger, asks Valerie as she’s serving him. Immediately I let out an annoyed scoff, rolling my eyes. 

“Unfortunately no,” Valerie chuckles in a friendly manner, fishing for tips. I feel myself growing more irritated, seeing the way this guy is eyeing my girl, the way his eyes lock on her chest in the white top. Now don’t get me wrong, I was the first person to understand why someone would ogle over Valerie - she always looked incredible. The way her work uniform of blue jeans and a white top hugged her body, the slight wave of her hair she hadn’t blow dried, the minimal makeup she wore to work, it all made her look so good I could’ve eaten her alive. But she was my Valerie, mine to look at, to flirt with.

“Damn, what if I tip well,” the guy continues, making me get up from my seat.

“Yoooo chill chill, not too much,” I say with slight irritation, finding to my pleasure that I am in fact taller than the guy as I walk up to him. His eyes flash with recognition as he takes me in, quickly backing down. 

“Paige uhh,” he murmurs, lifting his hands up. “My bad, she your girl?”

“She is,” I glance over to Valerie who’s smiling at me. 

“And she tips pretty well so…” Valerie adds, making the guy chuckle awkwardly. God I loved her. The guy is quick to back away.

“You can’t work here anymore,” I say jokingly, just meaning it the tiniest bit.

Valerie scoffs, giggling to herself. “Yeah then who’s gonna pay my rent?”

“I’ll pay for everything, I got that NIL deal ma.”

-

Paige has spent hours sitting on that one stool, shooing off one guy after another trying to hit on me. 

“You gotta stop working here,” she repeated to me after the fifth guy had tried to take me home. Thankfully the moment the men saw Paige and realised who she was, they were quick to back off. I didn’t wanna find out what might happen if they didn’t. 

“Alright Nat, you gonna be good for the night?” I ask as I take off my nametag, letting my long hair down, feeling it fall down my back.

“All good hun! Go home, have some fun with your lady,” she grins and I chuckle.

“Speaking of, where’s P?”

My eyes roam the crowd, the blonde not hard to find being one of the tallest women here. To my surprise she’s talking to a group of people - and not just any people. My best friends and roommates.

An unease takes over me, knowing that a conflict was likely to erupt unless my roomies could keep their mouths shut. I loved them dearly but once they disliked someone it was impossible to change their minds.

Taking hurried steps, preparing to diffuse the situation, to my surprise, everyone’s laughing, including Paige, telling some sort of story about when KK locked herself out of their dorm. 

“What’s going on here?” I chuckle awkwardly, the blonde immediately wrapping her arm tightly around my waist and placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“We were thinking Paige should come to our next dinner party!” Layla says excitedly, clapping her hands together. Monthly dinner parties had become a tradition for us, the first weekend of each month dedicated to spending time together around a shared meal. It had become important, almost sacred. Warmth spreads in my chest thinking about how it was even a consideration to include my girlfriend.

“Ohh P’s gonna be in Tampa,” I realise, leaning my head against her side. “She’s got the final games then.”

“Aww no way,” some of my friends pout to my surprise, genuinely disappointed.

“Then Val can’t come either,” Paige says ruffling my hair. I smooth over it quickly, shooting her a confused look.

“You’re coming to Tampa too, right ma?” She asks.

It’s like my heart skips a beat when her words land. The image flashes in my head, of me getting to watch my girl dominate the court and bring home the Championship if God willing. The thought alone is enough to make me emotional.

There’s a stupid grin on my face when I turn to Paige.

“Are you sure because last time-”

“I was stupid last time, I need you there with me. I’ll sort out the flights and hotels and tickets and everything.”

And hearing her say that means nothing short of everything.

-

Be You. Be Great.

Be You. Be Great.

I repeat the words to myself over and over in my head, a silent prayer. I look at my reflection, the navy Uconn jersey on my body for the very last time. It almost felt too small on me, I knew realistically it wasn’t. But something about it felt like I was close to outgrowing it. 

I remember my first game like it was yesterday, the way the jersey felt then, how it swallowed my lanky body. I was just a kid then, not that I felt like an adult now. But I did feel wiser. My arms and shoulders were bigger, filling out the jersey now. I was carrying my name and the number on my back for Uconn for the very last time.

“Paige…” Allie interrupts my thoughts, knocking on the wall next to me. Suddenly I’m back in the dressing rooms, in Tampa, and she’s watching me with a sly smile.

“Sup Allie,” I grin and wrap my arm around my freshie, wanting to savour every second of these last moments I got to spend with the girls as a Husky.

“Come with meeee,” Allie smiles, pushing me towards the cubbies where all the girls are in a half circle, smiling at me. A little creepy, I think to myself as she leaves me to stand in front of the team on my own.

“Uhhh is this when you kill me?” I ask with a grin, causing the girls to erupt into giggles.

“We got you something Paigey,” Ice smiles and walks up to me, handing me a small present, wrapped in purple paper. I feel my chest tightening as I hold the neatly wrapped box in my hands, slowly starting to unwrap it.

“HOLLUP HOLLUP!” KK suddenly interrupts and runs to me holding another present, this one much less neatly wrapped, more of a pile of wrapping paper all taped together.

“It’s from me,” the girl next to me grins.

Ice and Azzi scoff. “Hey we said no present of our own!”

“Well you don’t love P Boogers like I do,” KK sneers and turns to me. “Open mine first!”

“Okayy okay,” I laugh and unwrap the present in my hands, one layer of paper after another. 

“Damn did you use a whole roll of paper for this?” I ask, peeling away.

“Be nice or I’m taking it away,” KK scolds, giddy by my side. Finally I reach the last layers, ripping up the paper to reveal… furry purple handcuffs?

Before I can say anything KK has cuffed my left hand to her right one, painfully yanking my arm around as she cheers. 

“What the hell???” I yelp, yanking my hand back to my side and looking at the furry cuff tightened around my wrist.

“Now you won’t leave me,” KK hums and wraps her arms around me tight. Everyone bursts into laughter, including me but I hug the girl back - she was like a little sister, this whole team was my family and Storrs was my home. I was already feeling the dread of having to say goodbye itching in the back of my mind.

“Now how we gon explain this to coach?” I chuckle, squeezing KK’s shoulder and dangling our cuffed wrists in the air.

“Guess we just gotta play like this,” she shrugs. 

Rolling my eyes I shake my head and look across the room. “I’m gon miss so many layups today guys.”

Laughs erupt all around the room, except from beside me where KK is looking at me scoldingly. 

“Don’ say that,” she argues and starts unlocking the cuffs, unhappy with me.

“I get to keep these tho?” I ask with a grin, my mind already going to filthy images of all the opportunities to use these on Valerie. 

“Nasty,” KK mumbles, finally freeing my hand as I grab the cuffs and the key. Returning to the neatly wrapped gift I unwrap one corner at a time, finding a navy blue jewelry case inside. Opening it I gasp, seeing three silver rings lined up in a neat row - each one a letter. BDB.

“Are you forreal,” I chuckle excitedly, my mouth falling open as the girls cheer. I carefully take them out, placing each one on the fingers of my left hand, unable to stop the huge grin on my face.

“Guys…” I pout, already feeling tears forming but Jana is quick to stop me. 

“Not yet!”

Suddenly I feel hands wrap around my waist from behind me squeezing tight. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. I can tell just by the weight of her touch.

“Hey baby,” Valerie murmurs and places a kiss on my shoulder as I turn around. Immediately I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her in the air and letting my nose bury into her hair. I had seen her this morning before getting to the arena, but all day I’d been complaining to the girls about how I wish I could see her just for a second before we start preparing for this game. 

Valerie giggles as I spin her, finally placing her on the ground.

“Don’t tell Coach or CD,” Aubrey laughs. “We snuck her in.”

It’s then when I notice Valerie’s outfit. A miniskirt and boots which would have driven me crazy if it wasn’t for what was covering her upper body - A white Uconn jersey, with my name and number on it in big bold letters. Her face is bright, like she’s proud to carry my name on her. Proud to be mine. And it’s at that moment the tears begin to burn in my eyes.

“You’re wearing it,” I say weakly, a single tear rolling down my cheek. 

“Baby why are you crying?” Valerie asks, surprised, wrapping her arms around me tight as the girls gush looking at us.

“Remember when we first met and you wouldn’t wear my hoodie?” 

“Yes, silly that’s why I’m wearing this. I’m making it up for you,” she giggles and kisses my cheek before pulling away. Her hand however remains around my waist as we both turn to the team, comfortingly rubbing her thumb against my skin. All the anticipation, the nerves and the emotion were overwhelming me, heightening all my senses. I sniffle a little, turning to the girls, my family.

“We love you Paige,” Ice says, her voice shaky with emotion. The girls nod in agreement, many meeting my level of emotion, eyes welling up and lower lips trembling. “You’re not just a part of the team but a coach to all of us.”

“Forreal thank you, for everything,” Jana adds.

“We got it from here P,” Sarah smiles at me and it makes me feel at ease, knowing I did what I could, gave everything I had to them. That I could leave knowing I did my all, gave them all I got.

“Don’t forget us in Dallas tho,” KK says as Valerie rubs my back comfortingly, knowing without words that I needed it before my emotions took over. “Now let’s get this Natty y’all!” 

I clap as we huddle up, all my girls around me as we hug and hype each other up, Valerie so short she’s almost getting crushed by Jana and Aubrey jumping up and down next to her. Laughing through the tears I wrap my arm protectively around her and kiss the top of her head, inhaling her scent one more time. I had everything I needed right here to win.

-

Buzzer.

“And the drought has ended! The National Championship goes to Connecticut for the first time since 2016! Paige Bueckers ends her college career with 27 points in this game, leading the Huskies to a long awaited victory!”

It’s immediate, the joy, the tears. I don’t think I’m completely in my body when me and the girls all crash into poor Geno, hugging him tight, jumping up and down around him. I let my emotions take over, letting the tears run down my cheeks. I look around and see my girls doing the same, letting their tears flow. We fought for this, we earned this. I’m not saying it was late, but it was right on time.

When Coach turns to hug me, there are tears in his eyes too. I knew he wanted this for me as much as I did, but seeing the look on his face makes me feel it even more. After all the adversity, the injuries, the lessons life had thrown in my face - I was finally here. On the other side of it all, victorious. In that moment I realise all the setbacks made this moment a million times sweeter. 

“You did it kid, you deserve it,” he says into my ear and it means everything.

We finally break apart from our group hug, my mind immediately going to the one person missing. But before I can even look around, I hear her deafening cheer, her golden brown hair swaying in the air as she jumps up and down, beaming at me. 

Before my mind thinks it through I’m running to her, wrapping my arms around her and picking her up, my lips crashing into hers. The audience, the media, our coaching staff might as well not have been there. I didn’t care who saw, or filmed or whatever else. I just won the National Championship and I needed to kiss my girl.

“Paige,” she giggles against my lips but kisses me back, her careful hands wrapping around my neck. I’m sweaty and sticky and my face is wet with tears and this would be all over Tiktok tomorrow but we couldn’t care less.

“I love you,” I gasp as I pull away, shocked to find her brown eyes welling up as she smiles at me.

“I love you so much,” she sniffles as I let her on the ground, her small hands coming to wipe tears off my face. “I’m so fucking proud of you P.”

“I’m so happy you came,” I hum, more happy tears rolling down my cheeks. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

And it was the truth. All this time I had been so worried about Valerie being a distraction, something that would cause me to fail. But now I realised she was the biggest motivator, my biggest fan. Seeing her looking at me with tears in her eyes, a grin on her face and beaming brightly made me realise winning with my girl by my side felt a million times better. The best prize I could ask for. 

-

“You’re supposed to swipe it,” the girl behind me mumbles, her words a little slurred from the alcohol that had been consumed at the afterparty.

“I know how to open a damn door,” I complain, just as tipsy if not more as I fumble with the card.

“Hurry, P,” she whines, her hands wrapping around me from behind me as she kisses my upper back, making me see stars already.

“That’s really not helpin’ ma,” I groan, finally getting the door open by some miracle, crashing into the hotel room I had booked for Val just a couple blocks away from our hotel. We had stayed at the afterparty as long as we physically could, but all I could think about was having this girl bent over in front of me with those purple cuffs around her wrists ever since I finished my first drink of the night. It didn’t help that she was in the tightest, shortest purple dress for me, my hand itching to make its way beneath the hem.

The second the door closes Valerie’s pushing me against it, kissing my neck heatedly. I let out a moan, my hands flying to her ass, lifting the short hem out of the way. I feel her hot whimper against my skin when I grope her behind, feeling her up hungrily. We’re both starving for each other.

She’s trying to pin me against the door with her smaller frame, and it’s almost pathetic how easily I flip us over, taking charge. Valerie gasps as her back presses against the door and I manoeuvre my thigh in between her legs, pressing against her core harshly as I begin to kiss her, dragging against her clit.

“Fuck me,” she gasps into my mouth like a plea. I pin her against the door, both my big hands on her waist as I grind my thigh into her, already feeling a slight tremble in my legs.

“Oh baby I plan to,” I tell her, kissing along her neck leaving a trail of purple marks. “Got a lotta plans for you.”

“Need more,” the brunette whimpers, the whine in her voice driving me insane. Unable to hold back anymore myself I lift her up by her thighs with ease, throwing her onto the hotel bed. 

“Get undressed,” I command, watching the way she’s trying to catch her breath as I shed clothes till I’m in black boxers and a matching sports bra. Putting on a show for me, Valerie slowly shimmies the purple dress off her body, my jaw falling slack to find no bra underneath it. But it’s the crotchless purple panties that make me groan out loud.

“You’re such a slut,” I murmur, watching her laying on her back on the bed and spreading her legs. 

“Mmmh you like it,” she giggles. I feel my mouth watering, watching the way her pussy is glistening for me already.

“I do ma,” I murmur, dragging a finger slowly upwards from her ankle, goosebumps following my touch as I reach her knee, her thigh, her inner thigh - just ghosting where she needed me most to bring my fingers splayed on her lower stomach, watching her squirm.

“You wanna be a good girl for me?” I ask, as if I wasn’t about to fuck her no matter the answer. I can feel my boxers growing wetter as her big brown eyes look up at me, needy.

“Whatever you want baby, I’m all yours,” she tells me. The words are music to my ears.

I lick my lips as my fingertip circles her nipple, gently tucking on it to find it quickly getting hard under my touch. 

“Shit, stay right there,” I hiss and walk to my bag, pulling out the purple furry handcuffs. Valerie’s eyes widen as she sees them, but the smile on her face tells me she approves.

“You down?” I ask carefully, wanting to make sure. The brunette nods, eyes locked on the cuffs.

I tut at her, my hand grabbing her chin and forcing her gaze on me, dangling the cuffs in front of her like a prize.

“Use your words ma,” I encourage, the blush on Valerie’s face turning deeper, my dominance flustering the girl

“Yes,” she murmurs and I smirk, brushing her now messy hair off her face. She might be feisty, always putting up a fight. But once I got her wet it was so easy to get her to submit, to let me take charge. I loved it.

“There we go,” I praise, swiftly grabbing her wrists and cuffing them to the metal of bed frame, making sure I could celebrate my win without Valerie’s hands getting in the way.

She’s already squirming, too impatient to wait. Shit, so was I. I had been waiting to have my way with her all night.

I walk to the end of the bed, spreading her legs open for me, the view of her cunt in the crotchless panties driving me up the wall. Taking her ankle into my hand I begin to kiss up her leg, slowly making my way upwards to her inner thigh, leaving small marks behind.

“Mmhm, Paige…” she whines.

“Relax, you’ll get it,” I coo, pulling my own boxers down. “But you’re gonna do a lil sumn for me first.”

With that I straddle Valerie’s face, feeling my need dripping down my thighs. I needed her bad, my head spinning and cunt throbbing at this point. She lets out a moan seeing me so close and soaked for her.

“Please baby,” she whimpers, goosebumps everywhere when I feel her hot breath on my core. She’s trying to chase after me, her neck stretching to reach my core.

“Shit, you want it?”

“So bad please,” Valerie whines and I can’t take it anymore.

My hands entangle in her hair as I lower myself onto her, Valerie’s perfect mouth beginning to work immediately.

“Oh shiiiiit ma,” I groan, throwing my head back, her tongue moving back and forth in my folds just the way I liked.

“Taste so good Paige,” she moans against my clit before her plump lips wrap around it and suck, tongue circling in a way that was dizzying. I could feel the way I was getting wetter, the way I was probably making a mess all over Valerie’s face but the way she was lapping me up seemed like she was loving this as much as I was.

“So fucking good, fuck,” I moan, tightening my grip in Valerie’s perfect brown locks and beginning to guide her mouth wherever I wanted. I could feel the muscles in my thighs begin to shake, my free hand grabbing the headboard of the bed as I ride her face.

She’s squirming under me, squeezing her thighs shut to seek any friction at all which only makes me groan louder. My eyes lock onto her face underneath me, scrunched up in pleasure, mouth buried in my cunt, head moving wherever I yanked it. 

Needing more, I pull her closer, not entirely sure if she can breathe but when I feel my climax start to build, I decide I don’t care.

“Just like that Valerie,” I praise, my voice and body shaking now as I’m literally grinding myself against her face, my cunt throbbing as I feel myself near the edge. I hear her muffled moans, feel the vibrations against me as my eyes squeeze shut, my orgasm taking over.

“Oh shit, Val,” I groan, pulling her impossibly close. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it.”

The pleasure ripples over me, coming in waves as I come against Valerie’s face, watching the way her pretty hands are grabbing onto the handcuffs decorating her wrists. I grip her hair tight, pulling on it as I moan.

“Damn,” I exhale, my chest heaving as I lift myself off her. Valerie’s face is glistening with my mess, and she’s hungrily licking it off her lips, arching her back, a feeble attempt to tell me one and only thing - she needs to be touched. Bad.

“Now lemme eat this pussy,” I tell her, my mouth already watering as I crawl between her legs, wrapping my arms around her thighs to lift them on my shoulders. And I dive in. I had been waiting all night for this.

A loud moan escapes Valerie’s lips as my tongue works her, slow licks from her entrance to her clit as to clean her up. The taste of her makes me moan out loud, her arousal dripping out of her already, before I had barely touched her.

“This wet already huh? You like watching me play that bad?” I hum against her, watching the way she’s squirming, the way her hands are already tucking at the cuffs - desperate to grab my head and pull me closer.

“Paige, moreeee,” she cries, trying to buck her hips closer but unable to do anything else with the way she was stuck to the bed. Her helplessness only made me wanna drag it out for longer.

“Answer the question,” I demand my tongue now circling her entrance menacingly, licking upwards and repeating. 

She huffs and whines frustratedly. “Like watching you win.”

Good answer.

That moment I bury myself into her pussy, beginning to flick my tongue over her clit at an impossible speed, quickly overwhelming her. My eyes squeeze shut as I alternate between sloppy laps on her pussy and precise circles on her clit, Valerie’s thighs quickly closing in on my head as she writhes, handcuffs clanking against the metal of the bed frame. Her moans and the sinful sounds my mouth is making as I eat her fill the hotel room.

“Paige right there oh fuck,” she nearly screams, the alcohol in her system making her more bold. I keep eating her out, tasting every inch of her. Fuck I could never get enough, I was drunk off her pussy. I wanted to be for the rest of my fucking life.

“I gotchu mama,” I moan against her, keeping up my movements until her moans turn high pitched, and I can tell she’s on the edge. Reaching up, I take her nipples in between my fingers, fondling them as I keep moving my tongue back and forth on her clit at a rapid pace.

“Shit, shit shit,” she’s gasping now, back arching high as she releases all over my tongue, making me groan in response. My head is buried in her cunt, coaxing her through the orgasm. 

-

I’m only starting to come down from my orgasm when Paige pulls back and suddenly two of her fingers slide inside me, quickly beginning to pump in and out.

“Wait, no, too much,” I gasp, doing everything I could to pull my hands free but it was no use. Her hand doesn’t slow down despite my whining. A loud moan spills from between my lips, the stretch completely overwhelming my sensitive cunt.

“Need one more from you Val,” Paige praises, watching the way I swallow her fingers up closely. “Gonna feel so good I promise.”

I cry out, my eyes welling with tears at the overwhelming sensation, Paige’s long and nimble fingers curving inwards against my walls, making me even throb around her.

“Ohh shit that’s it,” she gasps, repeating the movement and feeling me throb once more. “Can fucking feel it.”

I squirm, legs shaking and closing around her but she pries them open with ease, the bicep in her right arm flexing as she pumps in faster, the veins of her hands popping more prominently. The wet sounds coming from inside me fill the room - almost embarrassingly loud.

“Too much,” I whine. Without stopping her movements, Paige climbs up to face me from between my legs, grabbing my jaw, licking her lips.

“You said whatever I want before,” she reminds me, her voice stern, demanding. “You’re gon take it ma.”

My eyes flutter shut, the mix of her words and her fingers moving at an overwhelming speed making my mind spin. I keep yanking on the cuffs, not because I think I’ll get free, but because I don’t know what to do with my hands, immense pleasure taking over my body.

“So fucking perfect,” Paige murmurs, still holding my face as she adds a third finger, the stretch now enough to make my whole body tremble. “Could fuck this pussy forever.”

“Open your mouth,” she coos and I do as I’m told, too weak to even think for myself. To think of anything but the way Paige’s fingers are stretching me out, the squelching sound filling my ears as she pounds them into me.

Paige leans down to kiss me, her tongue meeting mine before our lips crash. She still tastes like a mix of me and herself. I keep moaning, my mouth wide open as she kisses around it, cussing to herself.

“Shit, so fucking tight for me huh?”

“Paige,” I plead, unsure of what for when my back arches and I feel my walls tighten, squeezing Paige’s fingers. She feels it too, letting out a groan. My hips are squirming uncontrollably, forcing Paige to pin me back down against the bed, hand pressing hard on my lower stomach as she sits up to finger me even faster.

The pressure on my abdomen and the rapid speed make my eyes roll back, my climax building impossibly strong. 

“I’m so close, oh shi-” I’m gasping for air, mind spinning, Paige’s cussing the only anchor to the moment as I throb around her, teetering right on the edge.

“Tell me you’re my girl baby,” Paige moans, making me nod desperately.

“I’m your girl, shit, all yours.”

“That’s right, my good girl.”

With that, the orgasm washes over me, Paige’s fingers pressing against my walls, creating such an intense stretch I swear I’m on the verge of blacking out. My moans are deafening as my back arches uncontrollably, Paige’s other hand remaining on my stomach. The waves of pleasure are incredibly intense as I mewl and release with force, the world going black for a second.

I’m brought back by the blonde’s fingers sliding out, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness within me. I let out a whine, feeling sweat dripping down my neck, the sheets sticking to my skin. I don’t open my eyes until Paige has unlocked the handcuffs, carefully caressing over my wrists and kissing them as she pulls a blanket over me.

“Valerie?” 

“Yeah?” I whisper, still attempting to catch my breath.

“You alive mama?” Paige grins as my eyes slowly flutter open, watching her bring me water and a small present wrapped with a blue paper and white ribbon.

“Just about,” I mumble, shimmying up the bed to lean against the pillows behind me. I felt completely fucked out - and surely looked it. Paige certainly did, straight hair that had been down now tangled at the back but her usual braids still perfectly in place, mascara flaking underneath her eyes.

“What’s that?” I ask, eyeing the gift in the blonde’s hand. She chuckles and offers me a bottle of water.

“Drink a lil first, don’t want you to pass out,” she laughs as she climbs over me to the other side of the bed. Deciding she was probably right, I throw my head back and chuck some of the water, feeling the cold liquid make its way down.

“I gotchu a lil something,” Paige starts, handing the present to me. I take it with both hands, eyes flickering between it and the blonde’s bright blue eyes. 

“No, I should be the one getting you a gift, you kidding?” I ask, but Paige leans over, her big hand pressing against my cheek as she kisses me.

“I already got my gift,” she murmurs against my lips. Usually I would’ve made a comment about her corny line, but today I couldn’t. I knew exactly what she meant. “Open it.”

Slowly I unwrap the gift, finding a small box inside. I furrow my brows in confusion, but grin.

“Girl you better not be proposing because I think it’s a lil early,” I joke, making Paige let out a heartfelt laugh.

“Just open the damn box,” she complains, watching me closely. I do as I’m told, finding inside a little golden charm. Eyeing it closer, I realise it’s the number 5.

“For your bracelet,” Paige says. I let out a shaky breath, bringing the box closer to my face. It was beautiful, but what it meant was even more important to me. What it might signify.

“Paige…” I sigh contentedly, watching as the blonde with great care holds my wrist and places the charm on the gold bracelet that I wore, each day of my life. Now decorated with a golden 5. My girl’s 5.

Our eyes meet and we wrap our arms around each other, soft kisses between us as we lie down on the bed, Paige pulling me on her chest.

“I love you Valerie,” she hums, fingertips playing with the ends of my brown hair.

“I love you too,” I murmur against her lips, placing soft kisses all over them. Nuzzling my nose, the blonde pulls back. I watch her blue eyes, the way they twinkle in the dim hotel room. My national champion, my winner, my Paige. All mine.

“Come to Dallas with me,” she whispers, a surprising sureness in her voice.

Batting my eyes, I pull back. “What?”

She grabs my hand in hers and kisses my fingers, one by one. 

“Don’t make me go without you,” she pleads. “At least come and stay for the summer, and then we can think about what we do.”

“But what about school? I still got a year left P…” I remind her but she shakes her head.

“Just for the summer, and then if you hate it you can come back and I won’t even complain,” the blonde puts her hand up. “Scouts honor.”

Taking it all in, my chest fills with affection. She really wanted me with her.

“You forreal?” I ask carefully, making Paige grin.

“Val, Ion wanna even think about life without you. I can’t be away from you,” she says, pulling me into another kiss. This one is slow, meaningful. Telling me she means every word - and I trust it. I trust her.

“We’re gonna make this work no matter what,” she whispers, nose nuzzling into mine. “Gonna need you there for all my wins.”

I can already see it. Me sitting courtside, watching her win game after game, fulfilling her destiny with me by her side. Having her come home to me, waking up next to her every morning. Perhaps for the rest of my life. 

So there’s nothing else I can do but agree. There were no other options I could fathom. I would go to the ends of the earth for her. And it feels incredible to trust - to know - that she would do the same for me. It’s in the twinkle of her eye when she looks at me, the way her hands always find my waist, how her voice lowers and softens when whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I didn’t need words from her. I knew all of it without.

-

ily guys

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @pb524830 @angryflowerwitch@mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @oreo2sblog @slvt4her @julieloveswbb@vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi@thelightknight21@paigeluvvr@absolutelydreadful@imamartini@lupinqs@authenticgirl03@isurpussygreen@xxloveralways14 @numberonepartyanth3m

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

TAGLIST:

@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover

[bcksbarnes]

time's never been on our side - chapter two

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky happen to meet by chance one night, and it feels like there is a spark between the two of you - but he has to leave. was this destiny? or cruel fate?

word count: 3.9K

read the: previous chapter | next chapter

you know that checking your phone every ten minutes for a text message is unhealthy. you know that opening the thread, and then closing it, and then opening it again is truly unhinged. but, being ignored by the man you met at the bar feels like some cruel joke, though most people would say that strangers are not obligated to respond to people they don’t know. sure, you agreed with them, but damn did this one sting.

you’ve met people in bars before, it’s not really a foreign concept, but there was something about him - about bucky - that felt different. sure, it was only one night, less than four hours actually. sure, you didn’t actually know him. and sure, he had said he never had a stable environment for more than a week, but maybe this was different? maybe the universe wanted the two of you to find each other?

who were you kidding?

this was delusion at its finest.

a way to numb out the loneliness you had been feeling.

a fleeting crush that would go away in a day’s time.

and, truthfully, as the days pass, and you continue not to hear from him, the easier it was to rationalize with yourself that whatever spark you thought you felt could never turn into a flame. 

days turn into a week, and a week turns into two and suddenly you were pushed back into your life as if that night had never happened. work had picked up, your meetings felt longer, the silence in your apartment was deafening, life started to take on that gray-ish hue again. blah. 

it wasn’t like you to get so hung up on someone, especially someone you didn’t know, but with bucky those few hours you had spent together felt nice. easy. and easy was something you needed right now. 

your name is being called, but it’s not until someone taps you on the shoulder do you realize your boss is talking to you. you must have zoned out again. you had been doing that a lot lately.

“sorry,” you say sheepishly as you snap your head up, meeting their eyes. they continue speaking about whatever it was the meeting was about, but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to him again, thoughts of bucky quickly drowning out whatever was needed from you at work.

all you knew about him and his absence is that he traveled, frequently, and was a soldier … “of sorts” is how he phrased it. you didn’t know what that meant, or what that could possibly entail. maybe he was a spy? maybe he worked with the avengers? maybe he was a part of the secret service? who could even begin to guess?

“ugh.” you say to yourself as you make your way into your apartment after work that night. the day feeling longer than it actually was. your keys clank against the door as you unlock it and push your way inside.

sure, it’s not the most lavish one bedroom in new york, but it was cozy. the location and price is what got you intrigued when you toured it all those years ago. the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the east side is what sold you on it.

it was warm and inviting, decor filled with neutral tones, pops of dark greens and burnt oranges matching the dark wood is what helped you finally settle in. this was your home. the place you could unwind every night without anyone intruding in. the place you were about to open a bottle of wine, pop on a sitcom rerun and stare at the text thread over and over again until you eventually passed out.

what a riveting friday night.

as you changed out of your clothes and into a pair of pjs the mewing of a tiny animal made your heart swell a bit.

“alpy?” you called, making a small noise so the white kitten would make her way out. “come on, alp. it’s time to eat.” 

ever the supermodel she was, alpine, your longhaired white cat, sauntered her way out of the living room and into the kitchen, rubbing up against your legs as she waited for you to feed her. to be fair, the building had a no pets policy, but alpine wasn’t just a pet, she was your little angel and no landlord was going to tell you differently. and … you gave the super an extra tip during the holiday season to not say anything.

after feeding alpine and pouring a glass of wine, you laid down on your couch. you take a sip and open your phone. your finger hovered over the text thread with bucky knowing it only contained two texts and that was it. your brain was telling you it wasn’t worth the stress, but something in your heart was telling you to open it.

you click on it. you see three dots appear and disappear. and suddenly you convince yourself that they were never there to begin with

it's me :)

that’s the text that bucky had been reading every single day since he left on his mission. the text that haunted him in his dreams, and he was sure he could never answer it. he had a great time with you … actually it was one of the best times he had in years. but, he couldn’t even begin to open that can of worms, not now … well … not ever.

it was easier this way.

he laid in on his bed at some janky hotel in the middle of budapest, waiting for the day steve could tell him it was all over. the mission was done and oh, actually bucky we don't need your help anymore.

that would be the day.

the phone screen was the only thing illuminating his face in the dark room. it was almost four in the morning, his body ached, there was definitely dried blood on his face but after a night of fighting all he could think about was you and that night in new york. the image of your smile and the sound of your laughter ran straight through his mind every night, and he was sure his brain was just trying to torture him.

“shit.” he mumbles out loud, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to respond.

his fingers work swiftly on the keyboard trying to type up something - anything - but it’s no use. everything he wants to say he can’t get out of his head, and everything he is typing up doesn’t sound nearly as good as it should for ignoring you for two weeks. 

bucky deletes the words, sighing to himself as he locks his phone and places it on the bed next to him. his eyes adjust to the darkness as he stares at the ceiling, his hand scratching his stomach under his shirt as his other one runs through his hair.

why can’t he get you out of his head? why can’t he stop thinking about you? he hadn’t felt like this since … god he even couldn’t remember. had ever felt like this? it’s not like it meant anything, but having someone to talk to, someone who didn’t know him or his past or as steve’s friend. it was refreshing. 

he grumbles to himself as he gets out of bed, making his way to the bathroom to shower and get the grime from the day off of him as quickly as possible. the steam does nothing but suffocate his thoughts, making him ultimately feel worse. but, it’s quick and he’s clean and soon he’s in bed wishing he could bang his head against a brick wall to forget all about you and that stupid text.

a sudden bang on the door wakes him hours later, though it’s not like he was completely asleep, his mind had him in a half sleep half-awake daze all night. a mix of nightmares and anxiety. what a fucking mess.

he groans as he stands, grabbing a random black t-shirt and throwing it over his bare torso as he groggily makes his way to the door. 

“what?” bucky’s voice is flat and stern, knowing very well who it is before he even opens it.

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” sam says a hint of a smirk on his voice.

bucky, still half asleep, grumbles before he turns around and walks away from the door, sam slipping inside his room after him. he grabs his metal prosthetic off the chair he left it on and puts it back into place, rotating his shoulder and arm to get it in perfectly.

“what do you want?” bucky finally asks, crossing both his arms over his chest as he looks back at sam.

“did you put your arm back on so you can scowl at me?”

“and so what if i did?”

“you’re such a dick, you know that?”

bucky manages a small smirk, shaking his head as he looked over at sam. they had gotten a lot closer recently. sometimes it felt easier to talk to him than steve. with sam, they were on the same playing field. with steve, disappointment was never truly far off.

“seriously, what do you want?” bucky asks again.

“wanted to check in on you.” sam finally says, sighing a bit as he leans against the entrance way facing the hotel bedroom. “you didn’t seem alright last night after we infiltrated that base.” he continues.

“i’m fine.” bucky tries to quickly retort, wanting to shut down any conversations about this.

“bucky, you’re tired.”

he hated that sam could see right through him.

“i’m … look, i’m not tired, okay?” he says, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. “i just have a lot on my mind.”

“i know you’re tired. i know you have a lot on your mind. but, you came back from that one day off more refreshed than i’ve seen you in months, and now we’re on a new mission and you look worse than ever.” sam says, pushing off the wall and taking a step into the room. “talk to him.”

“and say what, sam?” bucky snaps back. “you know steve, you know that’s not going to go well. i love the guy, but he’s like mr. save-the-universe –...”

“actually, he’s captain america.” sam interrupts.

“you know what i mean.” he rolls his eyes at sam’s attempt at humor. “he’s the guy. he wants to save everyone, and he does. he never stops; he’s always looking for the next thing. he’s always been like this. i can’t say it’s not extremely charismatic but how am i supposed to tell him that his best friend wants to … what? wants to quit? wants to give up?” bucky frowns and shakes his head. “no, no way. not happening.”

“so what?” sam asks, scowling over at him. “you’re just going to be miserable because steve wants to keep going?”

“you don’t get it.” bucky retorts back, shaking his head. he was done with this conversation. done thinking about how exhausted he was.

“i’m just saying…” sam says softly, taking another step forward and clapping his hand on bucky’s shoulder. “it might be worth the conversation.”

bucky sighs, shaking his head, he can feel sam give his shoulder a squeeze and feels thankful in that moment for a friend who checks in. but, he knows that he can’t talk to steve. he can’t let him down. he can’t stop. so, he nods a bit, not able to really to voice how he was feeling in that moment. bucky wants to thank sam, wants to thank him for always understanding and trying to push him, but the words get caught in the back of his throat. sam can tell and can feel the words lingering in the air.

“don’t mention it.” he says, before dropping his hand from bucky’s shoulder, he starts to walk out of the room. “i’ll say one last thing, and then i won’t bring it up again.” sam’s hand is on the door now, looking over at bucky. “whatever you did while you were in new york made you more levelheaded and calm than i’ve seen you be in a long time.” he opens the door. “we’re out of here in two weeks, buck. maybe it’s worth paying new york another visit.”

and with that the door closes, and bucky barnes is left to rot with his own thoughts. great.

he tries not to think about sam’s haunting words for the next two weeks. tries being the key word there. 

time feels incredibly slow while he’s working, but exceedingly fast when he looks at the days and realizes he’s getting closer and closer to having to make a decision. is he going back to new york? is he going to try and see you? these were not decisions that he ever had to make in his life. why now?

it’s the day before the end of the mission and they’re just tying up loose ends. most of the crew had gone home and left the skeletons, steve, bucky, sam and a few other key associates. he knew that sam was right, that he needed to talk to steve. your face comes into his mind one last time before he knocks on the door of the makeshift office that steve was using.

“come in.” the voice was strong and stern, it could only belong to steve rogers. bucky entered the room and saw his best friend standing, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched one of the crew members entering some information into their computer. 

steve was always put together. during working hours on the mission, he was always in his captain america suit ready to spring into action at any moment, on days like today he was dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt, still ready to spring into action. 

“buck.” he says a gentle smile on his face that makes bucky immediately regret walking in. “what’s up?”

“uh…” he trails off for a moment, bringing his metal hand to his neck, rubbing it softly as he tries to wager if he should say what he wants to say. “listen, i think i’m going to be out of commission for the next few weeks.”

“weeks?” steve says almost immediately. his eyebrow is quirked and the look on his face is one of surprise. “where are you going?”

“not sure.” bucky says. it’s not really a lie, he hadn’t decided yet where he was going to go, although he couldn’t deny that new york was really the only place he wanted to be. “i just … i think i need some time off. it’s been a lot lately and i feel like my head wasn’t really in it this go around.” 

the words are tumbling out of his mouth, he can’t seem to stop his brain lately. between the night at the bar with you and now this? what was going on with him? anyway, it wasn’t the conversation sam was trying to get bucky to talk about, but it was a start. a stepping stone. someone like steve needed to be eased into these sorts of bigger conversations. 

steve studies bucky for a moment, trying to get a grasp on what could possibly be bothering the man. he had a knack for always wanting to figure things out, if he did then bucky wouldn’t have to explain himself. steve could just fix it, but, bucky, most of the time, didn’t want him to.

“that’s a long time, buck.” steve says, finally, dropping his arms to his side, his hands now on either side of his waist. “we have things to do. you know this life never stops. we gotta keep moving.”

that’s exactly that response that bucky was anticipating, steve was pretty predictable, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt to hear. how could he not understand that he needed some time off? 

“i know.” bucky frowns, running his hand through his hair. it had gotten a bit longer than he liked to keep it, but that tended to happen when he was away on these trips. “i wouldn’t normally ask, you know this.”

he can tell steve hates this, that he’s already using the intel they got from this mission for the next one, that he’s already ready to go again. bucky shifted uncomfortably for a moment as the air turned a bit awkward between them, a palpable unease that could be felt throughout the room.

“two weeks.” steve finally speaks up, his gaze not meeting bucky’s, instead looking straight ahead at the computer again. “and if it needs to be cut short i’ll call you.”

bucky will take it, though he’s not exactly thrilled about the possibility of it being cut short, but he’ll take it. he mumbles something resembling a thanks as he turns to walk out of the room, needing to get away before he or steve said something they didn’t want to.

it’s a long plane ride back from budapest.

bucky makes do by staring out the window and ignoring all of sam’s attempts at conversation. he hadn’t talked to steve since he asked for time off, and bucky figured if he just ignored everyone around him that would make this break a lot easier

it’s when they land when the anxiety starts for bucky. your text creeps back into his mind again and he knows for a fact that he can’t just text you out of the blue a month later and ask to meet up. not only would it be incredibly rude, but also the fear of your possible rejection makes it basically a non-starter for him. 

though something in the back of his mind wants him to see you, it’s how he ended up in the back of a cab on his way to the city. wishful thinking is that he’d run into you again, realism is that at least the idea of you two being in the same vicinity for a few weeks would ease his mind. it’s how he ends up at the same hotel that you dropped him off at. it’s how he ends up passing the pizzeria you two shared laughs at. it’s how he ends up outside that dive bar again, which looks even more depressing in the daytime, his hands in his pockets as he stares at the door.

there’s no way you frequented it more than once; it was a fluke you even ended up there to begin with, but these were the only places bucky could connect you to. even if they weren’t the best.

he takes a step forward and puts his head down as he finds himself walking away from the building, heading to the end of the block and waiting for the crosswalk sign. how stupid was he? there were millions of people in the city. how did he expect that he could even find a sign of you, let alone cross your path again?

it’s when the sign turns to walk that he begins to cross the street with the crowd of people, he doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going or look up to see anyone’s face, but soon there’s a hand on his arm that’s triggering his fight receptors.

bucky turns, his fists balled at his side, when he picks his head up, his gaze falls upon the most familiar eyes he’d seen in a while. 

“bucky?” you say, your eyes wide as you take in his features. you’re pretty sure you hear your name cross his lips, but it’s like time had completely stopped for a moment and the two of you are stunned into a silent stare off, reading each other's emotions, memorizing each other's features. your heart is beating out of your chest, but anger is also coursing through your bones.

you had thought you saw him on the other side of the street, but your brain had been playing tricks on you since he had left, but when you both crossed and his face got closer, you knew deep in your bones exactly who it was.

it’s not until there’s a honk from some cars do you both realize you’re standing in the middle of the crosswalk still, without the right of way, blocking oncoming traffic. bucky gently guides you to the other side of the street, his hand on your elbow.

“what are you …” he trails off, his mind is fried, unable to think of any words. he couldn’t believe that you were here. you couldn’t believe that he was real.

“what am i?” you ask, a frown on your features as you pull away from him. “what are you doing here?”

“i … uh … i got back this morning.” bucky swallows, his adam's apple bobbing as he does. “i - uh … i’m sorry i didn’t …” what the fuck was he saying?

you knew exactly where this was going. he was going to apologize for not responding to you. you’d both have a few drinks and catch up again for the night and then he’d leave again tomorrow without ever contacting you again. 

you’re aware that it’s unfair to feel angry that he didn’t reach out while he was gone, you know it’s definitely unfair to feel angry that he didn’t tell you he was back in the city. the rational part of your brain is trying to remind you that you didn’t know him and that he didn’t owe you anything. the irrational part is telling you that’s a load of bullshit.

“i get it.” you say, although there’s still a bit of bitterness in your voice. “i just wasn’t expecting to run into you. i definitely know i wasn’t going hear from you.”

he opens his mouth to say something, but the words get lost in the back of his throat. what was he even going to say? you stare at him for a few more moments, feeling like maybe the night at the bar was all in your head. the connection the two of you shared could not be further from what was happening right now.

“look, it was good to see you –...” you start, but he grabs your elbow again, cutting you off.

“i’m here for two weeks.” he says abruptly. “i was stupid for not responding to your text. i just didn’t think i could find the time to come back. i didn’t want to open a line of communication if it meant that we’d never hang out again.” him and this new found need to word vomit is making his brain feel very complicated. bucky tried not to psychoanalyze his feelings, but honestly, what he was saying was the truth. “i’d like to see you again.”

you consider his words for a moment, your hand resting on the tote bag on your shoulders, scanning his face for any hint of malice, when you finally detect none, you let out a sigh.

“you can call me and ask me again.” you finally say, your head held high. “i won’t be waiting around.”

bucky smirks at your words, he doesn’t even get a chance to respond before you walk past him, leaving him alone on the streets. oh, he would definitely be calling this time.

[brenwritesss]

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: You continue texting Paige after she sends you flowers.

a/n: we are getting to them meeting, slowly but surely. Short chapter but I promise part 4 will be longer. Trust.

The flowers were sitting on your coffee table in front of your couch and every time you looked at them, your heart beat sped up and your face grew hot. It took you weeks of constant begging just to get your ex-girlfriend to give you a simple, small bouquet of tulips. Yet here you were, staring at your favorite flowers looking beautiful on your coffee table, given to you by someone you had just met a few hours ago. But there was a part of you that knew not to fall too deep too fast. Because this was exactly how it happened last time, and you didn’t know if you could recover from getting hurt by another girl again.

The smart thing to do would just be to give Paige a simple ‘thanks’. However, what you wanted to do was buy a plane ticket and pounce on her the second you see her. You chose the smart option. You pull your phone off your charger, finding Paige’s instagram account and sending her a quick message, “thanks for the flowers.”

About twenty minutes later, you heard a notification ping off your phone and you knew exactly who it was which caused the butterflies in your stomach to multiply instantly. 

“You like them?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Okay, so this is the part where you play smart and leave her on read. We’re leaving Paige on read. You place your phone on the coffee table by the flowers. And even though you knew that you shouldn’t continue the conversation, everything in you itched with hope that she would text you again.

And your prayers were answered.

“You can’t leave me on read after I just bought you flowers.”

You were fucked. Absolutely fucked.

“You’re right.”

“There we go, that's a start.”

“You can’t just get me flowers after only talking for a few hours.”

“Why?”

“How’d you get my address?” This question hadn’t popped into your brain until you realized that you had indeed just met her on a livestream not even twenty four hours ago.

“I got a confession to make.”

“Oh god what.” Was this gonna be the part where she confesses to secretly stalking you for years? You honestly didn’t know.

“Your best friend, Madison, we close.” Your jaw dropped a little. Madison, your best friend who you had met at an award show years ago, had never mentioned being close with a girl who was exactly your type. What a friend.

“You know Madison?”

“Yeah we met at some event a while back and I texted her asking for your address and she gave it to me.”

Very interesting.

“You were that committed? To sending me flowers?”

“Damn fucking right.”

This is so fucking dangerous. Y/n, you know better. What the hell are you doing? Put the damn phone down and go shower, eat, watch a movie. Or go back to sleep. But she’s so damn cute. And sweet. And flirty, And…no don’t even go there.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You saw those three little dots appear and then disappear. Finally, they reappeared a few seconds later. “I told you I’d show you how beautiful you are and I’ll send you flowers everyday to prove it.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I really hope I didn’t.”

“No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. I just don’t understand why you’re so dedicated when we just met.”

“Honestly? I’m trying to figure it out bc it’s not a fucking secret that you’re my celebrity crush and I fucking like you.”

“Definitely not a secret.”

“And I can tell you’re like trying to push me away.”

“You make it really hard to do that.”

“Don’t push me away. You’re like the first girl I’ve been this invested in this quickly.”

Your body practically shuddered at her words and those familiar feelings of butterflies began to stir deep within you. Everything about Paige seemed to be too perfect, as if something was gonna go wrong or she was gonna say something wrong. Before you had the chance to respond, Paige texts you again.

“I wanna see you, princess.”

“See me?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Of course you were nervous about meeting her in person. Who wouldn’t be?

Paige’s text came back within two seconds. “Scared you’re gonna like me?”

“Never said that.”

“I’ll see you in Hartford, princess.”

[reiderwriter]

Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be

Chapter Four of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With Spencer gone, you find yourself spiralling into anger again until a new friend - and a silver lining to your entire situation - appears.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of the smut in the last chapter in detail, no explicit smut.

A/N: And so we get to it - the plot!! If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the replies or in my inbox, and feedback is greatly appreciated~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist

With Mondays back to normal, you were surprised to find yourself still under the weather the day after Spencer had left you. 

Walking into your office, your body anticipated the fight, muscles tensing, heart beating, blood pumping as you opened the door to your office. Logically, you knew he wouldn't be there. He'd practically shouted it at you the Saturday before. But seeing the vacant desk left you angry once again. 

Tense for a fight, you couldn't stop pacing back and forth in your office as the hours ticked on. A small part of you had hoped that the activities you'd indulged in during the weekend - and indulged was the word for whatever it was you'd done - had simply been your over active imagination once again. 

But even though Spencer has cleaned you up to the best of his ability, had left you in your bed in fresh clothes and tucked under the covers, he couldn't erase the traces of himself on your skin or in your apartment. 

The files you'd both thrown around on the tables were still strewn haphazardly around, the tangle of last night's clothes still discarded suggestively in a line to your couch. He'd washed you up, sure enough, and you'd found a towel and wash cloth in your laundry basket the next morning, but he'd not done a thorough job and you found yourself washing all traces of your activities away from your inner thighs still. 

So, yes. You paced in your office, and you waged a silent war against the empty desk. 

The first week, you were sure they'd come to collect it, to move it elsewhere. 

After all, his time with you - with the university - was done. 

After two weeks, you started spreading yourself out across both desks, twisting them around into an inverted L space so you could roll your chair between the two of them. You stacked books on the stupid reminder of him, you used it as a dining table on late nights and short lunch breaks, you kicked your feet up on it as you read and acted as though it were yours and had never been anyone else's. 

And then you got angry enough that you unblocked Spencer Reid's number. 

You were raging and suffering this torment alone, and why should you be? You'd made a mistake with the case files, sure, but you'd been driven to it by his cockiness, his actions. You deserved the chance to make his life hell one last time as well. 

You took yourself home that night, wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled your laptop in front of you, and unblocked his number. 

Immediately, you put the phone down and opened your emails. 

You'd take responsibility for the messages, sure, but you had not blocked his email. Searching through the files, you looked through your department database for his work email, searched your inbox for his messages, and came up blank. 

It took you two hours of traipsing through each email - admittedly, you'd probably signed up to one to many mailing list - just to be sure. You finally turned to your spam folder, and there it was. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath as you looked through ten emails. Ten emails from his FBI email account. No wonder they hadn't gotten throug, it was an unauthorised email on a company server. 

You only grew angrier as you read through the messages. 

“Y/N, I have reason to believe you have a file I need as soon as possible. Please message me back as soon as you get this. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I haven't received word from you in 24 hours. If there's something wrong, please reach out. If you're being stubborn, I hope you see reason. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I have your address. If you don't reply in the next four hours, I will be paying you a visit to collect the file myself. You have blocked my number and resisted adult conversation, and I am tired of playing these games. Spencer.”

Sick of playing games? 

From the man that had been playing jenga and scrabble with your bookshelves, that was absolutely rich. You may have worked out that nights frustrations with him easily, but you found yourself angry all over again.

You hadn't even checked your phone yet either, sure that he'd blown that up too until he figured out his number was blocked. 

He'd found your address. He'd practically stalked you to get what he wanted, and then he'd just washed his hands of you the night after? 

It had been a month, and you were still frustrated. 

Your stomach flipped, bike rising in your throat as your anger burned through you.

If he could find you, you sure as hell could find him. You'd assumed he'd found your address through work, and realised it was just as easy to find his as well.  

Before you could stop yourself, you were loading yourself into a car at 8 pm. and driving across the city to Spencer Reid's apartment. 

The red blurring your vision didn't fade until you sounded against his door and were greeted with an entirely too feminine “I'm coming!” 

The woman who opened the door was blonde and cute and sweet, and she had a wonderful smile. You were going to rip Spencer Reid's throat from his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was told this is Spencer Reid's apartment,” you said, trying your best to disappear into the night.

“Oh, yes. Can I help you?” 

“No. No, I'm sorry, I- I don't need help.” 

You must've looked uneasy in that second because before you knew it, the woman was inviting you inside for a hot drink, taking your few seconds of hesitancy to push down your guards completely. 

“Spencer doesn't keep much here in terms of food, but I know there has to be some…aha! Coffee!” 

“No, thank you, really I'm alright, I should leave-” 

In another two minutes, she'd talked you into sitting down and had put a mug in your hands. In a miracle turn of events, you'd actually relaxed enough to take in your surroundings. 

It was like you'd stepped back into your work office. Spencer's apartment, or at least the main living space, was filled with books. There were stacks everywhere, the shelves alphabetised - obviously - and looking neatly chaotic. 

You wanted to examine everything, every picture, every trinket on the shelf, every weakness he had that you could exploit. You wanted to know him. 

“S-So,” you started, turning back to the woman who'd sat herself down in a chair opposite you, staring at you excitedly. “How long have you and Spencer been dating?” 

The woman spluttered her coffee before sending up a howl of laughter that had your cheeks heating. 

Okay. Misunderstanding. You were less pissed at Spencer, but only a fraction.

“Oh, god, the idea of me and the good doctor is incredibly ridiculous. No, it feels incestuous, actually. Really, like shivers down my spine type stuff.”

“So you're his sister?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Spencer was an only child. You had spent three months with him, you knew at least that much about him. 

“I'm Penelope, I work with Spencer. He's on a case right now, and I came to find him a book.” 

“A book?” You asked again, taking another sip of your drink. Mistake aside, you felt comfortable sitting with her. The couch was comfy, the entire apartment was damn cosy, and it smelt….

Your spine straightened when you realised it smelt like he did, when you realised that thought was somehow a comfort to you. Your stomach had settled for the first time in a week, and the nausea leaving your body after four weeks of anger had made you sick. 

“Yeah, we've been working back to back cases, so he didn't have time to come back and pick up materials, so here I am as his little fairy godfriend to send him a care package.” 

You laughed gently and pulled your feet underneath you on the couch, curling up again. 

“He doesn't deserve you.” 

“What makes you say that?” Her face was open. Her tone was light  but you felt that you'd just walked into a trap. Even though Penelope had described her role on the team to you (not a profiler, not a big risk), you couldn't help but feel as though you were walking into a trap. 

“Well, he's… he's… You know the man better than I do, right? He's infuriating.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave you a smile but didn't say a word. 

“He's domineering. He thinks his way is the best way, he- he- he rearranged my bookshelves!” 

And my guts, you thought to yourself, holding your tongue just quick enough to not let that slip out. You still weren't sure where you stood on the sex. It was good. It was great. It was more than great, and yet you'd hated him until the very second he put his lips on yours, and you hated him again when you'd woken the next morning. Surely that meant that you'd still hated him while fucking him, that you'd just been temporarily blinded by lust? 

“Your bookshelves?” 

“At the university. Sorry, I- I didn't introduce myself, did I?” You told her your name, how you'd met Spencer and regaled her with tales of your office antics. 

“Penelope you, you should've seen the look on his face. It was priceless! Like a deer in headlights, his eyes were so wide, it was adorable,” you said, recounting the run-in with the student. 

“And then, infuriating man, he said he'd spent all day looking at me, but like, with the books-” 

You realised after five minutes of talking that Penelope had gone completely quiet, just grinning. Uncharacteristically quiet. You'd known her less than an hour, and you knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so quiet. 

“So you hate him?” She asked, noticing your abrupt stop. 

“I- yes. Yes, I did. I do."

“It doesn't sound like you-” 

“We- we parted on really bad terms. I think. I took one of your files accidentally, and he was very angry, we both said some things-” And did some other things, you thought. 

“Things that I'm sure we both regret.” 

“Oh my god-” the other woman said, suddenly going wide-eyed and jumping up from the couch. 

“You're the- you're the reason he was late! He's never been late, never, apart from - well anyway he's never late but he was late and… oh Miss Y/N, you're not telling me everything!” 

“What? N-No, I don't know what you're-” 

“Luke owes me $20. This is wonderful. Look at me, I'm not even a fancy shmancy profiler or anything!” 

“Penelope please-” 

She heard the plea in your tone and sat down again, zipping her lips up and throwing away a non-existent key. 

“While we were…arguing, he accused me of having blocked his email, ignoring him on purpose. I found out today that he emailed from his FBI account and not his university email-” 

“So it was sent to your spam folder? Yeah, it happens all the time.” 

You shot her a tired look, and she repeated her action. Lips zipped, key thrown.

“I came here to….” To what? Fight with him again? See him again? To one up him? To kiss him again, feel his hands on you, feel his fingers inside of you, his tongue on your clit as you rode his face again, his hands around your throat as you came on his dick, as he blew his load inside you, filling you with his cum- 

“Shit.” 

“Shit? What's… what is shit, Y/N? Please enlighten me, because everything seems very not shit to me right now, other than the fact that I'm due a video call from our boy wonder soon and I haven't located this book yet.

You counted in your head and then recounted again as all the blood drained from your body. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that you'd come here just to see him again  using whatever old excuse you could find to get back into his arms (or more accurately, his bed). 

You counted, and you counted again until your brain fogged, and you couldn't even hear Penelope asking you if you were alright anymore. 

“Penelope, I- I think… Penelope, can you keep a secret?” 

“Yes, I can absolutely keep a secret. I'm a great secret keeper. Everyone says if you want a secret keeping, Penelope is your girl-” 

“Okay, that's- that's enough. I need to- shit, I need to go and get…” 

For the thousandth time since Spencer left, you stood up and started pacing. 

“Okay, now you're worrying me, friend I just made. Please don't freak out on me.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm going to freak out, I think I'm pregnant. Very much freaking out.”

All of a sudden, Penelope was up and pacing beside you. 

“Pregnant! With a baby? You think you're pregnant with a baby?”

“I don't see how I could be pregnant with anything else?” 

“You're sure?”

“No! I need a test or a sign from God or something.” 

The woman took a deep breath herself and then grabbed your shoulders, hauling you to her side. 

“Okay, breathe. You sit here, I’ll go pick up a test. Don't go anywhere and don't spiral. Rearrange the bookshelves of you must but don't. Leave. Okay?” 

You nodded, and she rushed out of the door in a whirlwind.

For at least ten minutes, you stayed completely still. It had been roughly seven weeks since your last period and 26 days since you and Spencer had sex. He hadn't pulled out. He hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't asked if you were on birth control. As much as you wanted to be angry, though, you hadn't told him to pull out. You hadn't stopped him and asked him to put on a condom, and if you were telling the truth, you enjoyed it all the more when he'd finished inside you. You'd forgotten that you'd gone off your birth control when you'd started your job, knowing that tenure came with health insurance and wanting to get the implant cheaper or included in your premium. 

What a brilliant plan.

Still, you weren't expecting this, and you were in a haze. 

Seven weeks. You'd missed a period, and you hadn't even noticed. 

You stopped spiralling when you paced into the bookshelves and started actually looking at the things laid about on his shelves. 

There were chess pieces, small rooks placed here and there, as if dropped and forgotten. Paper stuck out of the books at all different angles, and you noticed his looping scrawl on a few of them, his notes brief and indecipherable, but still bringing a faint smile to your lips. 

Then there were the pictures. There were a lot with an older woman you instantly recognised as his mother, and your heart softened as how they looked very protective of one another. Others showed him with his team, with Penelope, and a stern looking middle-aged man, two women, a happy looking, well-built man. There were weddings, faces that popped up here and there. There was a very young, very vulnerable looking Spencer playing chess with an older man. 

The room was filled with family, and you couldn't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you took in how much Spencer could love. 

He cared, and he cared deeply, and there were all these people in his life that enjoyed being around him. And he hated you. 

Your heart sank, and you were about to leave when Penelope appeared again, test in hand and gently pushed you into the bathroom. 

You took the test and waited. Penelope waited beside you, clutching your (clean) hands in hers as she talked you through her day, distracting you in the only way she could.

But your brain resisted everything, focused only on how you were about to grow a family with a man you knew didn't enjoy your company. 

“What am I going to do, Penelope?” You whispered, suddenly afraid of what your future looked like. 

“I can't - I can't raise a baby with a man that doesn't love me the way-” 

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your tongue quickly. 

“You don't have to answer me, but is it… is there a chance it could be Spencer's?” 

You nodded before you could even think of lying, too wrapped up in your mental to-do list building up and up and up. 

“It could be negative? This could just be panic and stress and-” 

You heard the alarm you'd set for the test go off and jumped up, sprinting into the bathroom. 

Two lines. What did two lines mean? Two lines meant baby. 

Baby. You were having a baby. 

“Y/N, what does it say?” Penelope asked from behind you. 

“It's… I'm…shit.” 

She came up behind you and looked herself, cursing the same way you did as she watched you for your reaction. 

There was a baby. You were going to have a baby. 

Okay. You could have a baby. You could bring a baby into this world. You just had to figure out how, and write a to-do list, and avoid telling your boss until you got tenure, and tell your parents, and tell Spencer. 

Spencer. 

You had to Spencer. You collapsed to the ground, mumbling to yourself as Penelope fanned you with her hands, squeaking at your unresponsiveness. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled. “I have to tell Spencer.”

You blinked the fog out of your eyes and stood quickly, absent mindedly making a note to check if sudden movements were good for the baby or not. 

“Penelope, I need some help,” you said, moving to the living room and pulling our your phone. She trailed behind you, sending you a worrying look, and you thanked the heavens that you'd managed to run into the most forgiving angel of a woman on quite possible the best/worst day of your life. The jury waa still undecided. 

You snapped a picture of the shelves, and then, throwing your phone down, you started tearing each stack apart. 

Once you'd made a large enough gap in the stacks, you turned back to Penelope. 

“We're going to tell Spencer. Like this.” 

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter One: The Omen

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Two ☆ Series Masterlist

Series Description: Being friends with Lily Evans was difficult when you were head over heels for her ex-boyfriend James. Your problems are only made worse when you begin receiving ominous omens that point to a less than desirable future.

General Fic Warnings & Tags: Marauders era seventh year, female reader (she/her/miss/etc.), use of Y/N and L/N, readers appearance is not described other than her generally being able-bodied and larger than a house elf, at some point the reader smokes cigarettes/weed/drinks alcohol (don't smoke, kids), swearing typical of an 18 year old lol, canon-typical violence, dueling, and first wizarding war stuff, mentions of the readers mother and father, mentions of characters getting sick after drinking but no descriptions.

Notes: hey! so just a fair warning that this is a slow burn and the first couple of chapters in are particularly plot heavy. Also, this is cross posted on my ao3 if you want to give it a read there instead :) Also fuck JKR we support trans rights on this blog

Word Count: 4.3k

The near silence of the library was a welcomed escape from the busy corridors and lively Common Room, which was always packed just after classes ended. Tomorrow was Friday and Gryffindor was playing a quidditch match this weekend, meaning your chance to have any amount of free time in the coming days relied heavily on some Thursday night cramming. At the heavy wooden table tucked between tall rows of books, you and Remus worked quietly. It was one of the rare times you were alone together, and his aura of calm placidity was exactly what you needed at the moment. 

Despite your intentions of studying, the papers strewn out in front of you were beginning to give you a headache. If you were somewhere with a more lenient volume policy, you would’ve groaned rather dramatically in utter frustration or banged your head against the table top. It had been a long time since you’ve been this lost on an assignment, a Divination assignment, no less. Your eyes kept pulling away from the three different books laid before you, running instead along the dark shelves and bumpy leather spines. It was a treat when one of them flew from its place, skirting out of your nook and down the aisle in a blur of solid color. 

You both had gotten one and a half lovely, serene hours of uninterrupted study time before your mutual friend came around the corner, plopping down suddenly in the seat beside you. Your daydreams were interrupted, replaced by an even better distraction. James smiled brightly at you, curly brown hair in a heap on top of his head. You couldn’t help but grin back, his pleasantness infectious even when you were in a sour mood. 

“Hello,” you said, forgetting your work completely. 

He returned your greeting before frowning at Remus over his complete lack of acknowledgment upon his arrival. 

“What's got you so focused?” he whispered, glancing down at the parchment that Remus was writing on. 

“Transfiguration,” he answered, still engrossed and only half listening. James shot him a funny look which caused you to stifle a laugh, though Remus was unamused. 

“I can see you, you know,” he drawled. 

James snickered quietly, attempting to keep up a his newfound facade as a serious student, lest he ruin his impeccable reputation. 

“Why’re you slumming it here with us?” you asked James, your head coming to rest in your hand as you turned to face him. His wire-rimmed glasses began to fall, so he pushed them back up onto the bridge of his nose.

“He should be here to study,” Remus added, finally smirking to himself. James rolled his eyes, throwing his arms over the back of his chair. 

“Can’t even pay your friends a visit anymore, I see.” He tipped his chair back on two legs, dangerously close to falling. After a moment of careful balancing, he returned all four legs to the floor where they belonged, his head lulling onto his shoulder. “Sirius ditched me to run off with Seraphina, and Peter and Marlene are joining forces on Herbology.”

Seraphina was Sirius’s most recent belle, but no one thought it would last much longer. She didn’t like that he smoked and he detested her revulsion to it. Before his date with her last weekend, he had to wash his hair twice and use far too much cologne, which gave everyone around him an awful headache. This may be the couple's last hoorah, as you had been with Sirius not three hours ago, each of you puffing smoke out of the window of an empty classroom. 

“Why don’t you help?” you asked, referring to Peter and Marlene.

“Peter says I’m mean when I help,” answered James with a shrug. 

“How awful,” you teased, watching as a large green book shot out of the shelf over Remus’ head, whipping left down the aisle. It was true that sometimes James couldn’t understand that things didn’t come so easy to everyone. Once, you had stupidly asked him for his help in DADA. Never again. 

“That's all right,” James began again, “With those gits ditching me, you’re my new favorite. Not Remus, of course. He won’t give me enough attention.”

You hated when he did that: made you feel special. He couldn’t possibly be serious, as it was simply the perfect opportunity to take a dig at his friend. But Godric, did you want it to be true. Until now you had done a very good job at projecting a casual air about yourself, protecting your feelings behind a mask of mild indifference. You tried your best to regain what was left of your resolve, cracked by his stupid joke and the way he was looking so handsome today. It was criminal, really, an Azkaban level offense. You wanted to slap that lovely, teasing smile from his face and throw him under the invisibility cloak. Begrudgingly, you laughed, Remus snorting as he continued to scratch away with his quill. 

“Oh, and I wasn’t before?” you said, hopefully hiding your fancy. 

James rolled his eyes again, thankfully not having noticed anything out of the ordinary. You must’ve been an excellent actress, or James was an extraordinary friend, because he never seemed to catch on no matter how badly you slipped up. You weren’t sure if things were easier or harder when Lily was always hanging off his arm. Godric, had that been a tough eight months. 

James then changed the subject to something less threatening to your long-held secret, much to your relief, “I’ve been running over some new maneuvers with the team. It’s taking some of the younger ones a bit to get the hang of, but we’re looking good. I don’t think Hufflepuff has a chance on Saturday.” 

“That's great,” you whispered.

“Sirius came up with some of it, worked on it all day last Sunday with me. We’re calling it the Grumblesnad–” 

James went on to explain, or attempt to explain, the rather complicated plays he and Sirius had invented. Half of the technical jargon you did not understand, though you were able to catch the gist. He seemed so eager to tell you that you refrained from stopping him too often, wanting to watch his eyes light up and hands wave mindlessly. You enjoyed when he was like this, entranced by his own excitement, unburdened and utterly content. 

Soon after James had finished his animated explanation of the Grumblesnad, it was just about time for dinner. The sun had gone down around an hour ago, leaving the library to be lit only by the large lamps hanging upon the walls. Although the room was warm and glowing, begging you to stay just a while longer, your hunger was beginning to get to you. You and Remus packed up your things, throwing all three of your Divination books into your bag. Remus held a thick, wide tome, the cover decorated with tangled vines and pale purple flowers. 

“You guys go on without me,” he said, propping up the book in the crook of his elbow like the pose of a marble statue. “I’ve got to check this out.”

Remus walked past you and James to head down the labyrinthine aisles with another word, you and James following behind. You each left the library together, Remus promising again that he’d catch up. 

Your journey was in silence for a while, James’s shoes clicking against the stone floor like a metronome. There were many other students heading your same direction, a few first or second years whizzing past in a fit of laughter. You smiled at the memory of your first few years at Hogwarts, remembering for the first time in a while that you’d be leaving here for good in a matter of months. You had been so shy at first, clinging to Lily like she was a buoy out in the ocean. Severus had done the same, though as the years went on he seemed to shrivel a bit, slinking back into the shadows while Lily moved farther into the light. She had dragged you along with her, practically forcing you to be friends with those who had remained acquaintances for the better part of five years. For this, you would always be eternally grateful. 

You were pulled from your shameless reminiscing when James reached out for the strap of your bag, taking it from you before you could do anything about it. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked as he threw it over his shoulder, adjusting the strap a bit.  

“Godric, this thing is heavy,” he said, making a show if it dragging him down towards the floor. You laughed, soon beginning to play with your tie, not knowing what else to do with your hands. 

“You don’t have to carry it for me,” you said softly, feeling rather bad. Now, each of his shoulders was carrying its own load, yours unburdened.  

He shook his head immediately, curls flopping against his forehead. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, brushing it off as if it were nothing at all. “Besides, you’ll end up falling to the dungeons carrying this thing.”

You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t tell him how kind he was, how much he made you into someone rather witless. You dropped your hands, swinging them a few times before they met behind your back. It was getting worse. You could tell by the way you had to keep on reminding yourself to act like a normal person, constantly having to make sure you weren't letting anything on. It was difficult to pinpoint when this change occurred, though knowing the exact date and time wouldn't really do you much good in the end. Something in you was breaking, and it scared you shitless. 

“But really," James said, holding onto the strap of your bag, "what do you have in this?”

You shrugged. “Just some books, a few boulders thrown in for good measure.”

He shoved you lightly on the shoulder, throwing you slightly off kilter. You giggled, cringing at yourself as you did. Soon you could see the large doors to the Great Hall up ahead, and you ran over to them. You then made a show of opening one for him, waiting patiently for him to catch up. He smiled, and you were glad to have put it there.

“Just trying to return the favor,” you said, laughing when he passed you, feigning displeasure. 

He handed you back your bag as you parted ways, you heading over to your side of the table near Lily, him with the other Marauders. Walking down the aisle, you let out a silent sigh of blissful relief, having mostly rid yourself of him for the time being. No matter how much you enjoyed his company, it was an awful amount of work acting nonchalant, particularly when he kept being so nice. It was always better when you were in a group and he was forced to split his attention between multiple parties. Currently, mealtimes were becoming your new favorite. 

As you sat down in your usual spot between Lily and Marlene, you plopped your bag down on floor behind you, which landed with a heavy thud. Lily glanced over her shoulder to look at it. 

“Godric, what’s in that thing?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°��°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The fire in the Common Room popped, sending a flurry of orange sparks into the alcove of the stone hearth. Most had settled in for the night, filling the room with a steady stream chatter and scratching quills. James and Sirius sat across from each other at one of the small tables in the back doing schoolwork, Lily and Peter beside them playing a game of wizards chess. You and Remus were reading in two of the large armchairs, you with a muggle novel borrowed from Lily. 

Sirius's elbows were resting on the table, his head in his hands and mouth slightly agape. He shook his head a bit, eyes wide as he started down at his papers. 

“Do you think Professor Vector dreams in Arithmancy, or it’s just a hobby?”

You looked up from your book, noticing Sirius’s paper covered with exed out numbers and messily written notes. He still wore his uniform, though his tie was undone and the top two buttons of his shirt, which was growing wrinkled, had been opened. Lily's head popped up from where it was turned down towards her game, which she was currently winning. She leaned over to peer at his paper the best she could.

“What’s the matter?” she asked kindly. Sirius only gave her a glance before looking at James, who was stifling a laugh. 

“It’s your fault,” said Sirius, scoffing at his friend’s continued chortling. “You forced me to take it third year. Should’ve been like Wormtail and gone the easy route.”

You all knew he was lying, for despite all his bitching and moaning, Sirius was just as bright as James. He’d complain endlessly about Arithmancy just as he had done last year when he convinced himself he’d flunk the O.W.L, in which he ultimately scored an O. Once and a while he might even brood over such fears, tucking himself away in a dark corner of the library to study, fighting off a great deal of unnecessary anxiety. 

“Hey!” Peter piped up at the mention of his name, especially due to its use in such an offending fashion. Lily made an excellent move, snagging one of his knights. Peter groaned in frustration, momentarily distracted. 

“Divination is a valuable subject, one that is often overlooked by certain individuals,” you defended, glaring at Sirius before offering Peter a much needed smile. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius said, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. You shrugged, turning back to your book. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re good at it,” he grumbled, looking back down at his papers to concentrate on the confusing array of seemingly nonsensical numbers. 

“Doesn’t take much,” said Remus from his armchair, legs curled up like a pretzel. Now you were grumbling, mumbling something about his “Stupid E in Ancient Runes.”

James began screwing the cap back on his inkwell, gathering his parchment into a neat pile before him. Lily and Peter had turned back to their game, Peter taking an awfully long while contemplating his next move. He finally made one, taking out one of her rooks. 

“How’d your fish thing go?” James asked, looking between you and Peter. Your most recent Divinations project, which you had been working on in the library, involved Ichthyomancy, or the helpful power of fish in the prediction of one's fortune. You were to carefully observe the fish of the Great Lake for a few hours during a “completely and utterly random time of day!” and attempt to read your fortune for the coming weeks. 

Peter sighed heavily at the mention of the project, sinking further into his chair. Lily was still glancing at the game board, twirling a lock of auburn hair between her fingers. 

“Well…” said Peter, somewhat sniveling. 

“Not having any luck?” you asked. “No pun intended.”

Peter sighed again, shaking his head. “Just when I think I’ve got something, they all seem to swim away. I think I’m repelling them or something.” 

“Not surprising,” said Sirius, still focused on his own work.

“You should be studying,” Remus reminded him, to which Sirius surprisingly obeyed. If anyone could get Sirius to do something, it was Remus. It was if he possessed an ancient form of magic no one else knew.

“How about you,” James asked. “You said you were coming along swimmingly the other day.” You could tell he was rather proud of himself for that one from the look on his face, eyes glancing between the others as if to see if anyone else noticed. Any other time you would have readily appeased him and laughed, but all your willingness to jest had drained from you the moment he asked the question. 

“Well…” you began, echoing Peter. You weren’t sure if you wanted to bring it up just yet, though you didn’t want to lie either. Your head fell back against the chair as you let out a small, crippled noise. “I thought I was, but then today in the library I was trying to cross reference the meaning, but I’m getting all these odd readings.”

“Like what?” Lily inquired, moving a piece on the board. Peter let out a breath of relief when all of his pieces remained safe. 

“The first thing I saw right when I got out there was a school of eight orange fish heading with the current, due north. So, that's obviously unbridled joy. ”

“ Obviously ,” mumbled Remus. 

You rolled your eyes and continued, “Then, there were twelve pink ones heading across, due west, not with or against the current. However, another joined in–”

“Oh,” said Lily, catching the meaning. Peter nodded in acknowledgment as well. 

“Yeah, so heartache. But, that's not even the worst of it. After a few hours with nothing much happening, I spotted a red and purple fish amongst a school of white,” you trailed off, watching Lily’s face contort in confusion, her hands coming up to the arms of her chair. 

“You’re kidding!” 

James perked up, glancing between each of you, who like Peter didn’t seem to have a clue what any of it meant. Remus and Sirius had now been fully roused, book and schoolwork forgotten. 

“What? What?” James asked, though neither you nor Lily replied soon enough for his liking. “Come on, what is it? What's so bad about a red and purple fish?” 

Lily swallowed, turning to James. “Red and purple is bad. ”

“Really bad,” you added. 

“Did you catch how many white ones were in the school?” Lily inquired. 

“No, I’d guess around ten, but I can’t be sure.” You shot her a pained, slightly terrified expression, knowing the less white fish the better. Ten or so was not a good sign. 

Lily sighed and all fell silent for a beat, the once easy atmosphere becoming tense and suffocating. You heard Peter picking at a loose thread on his seat. 

“What does it mean?” James asked.

Lily answered, speaking slowly and with great purpose, “Well, in isolation, it can predict a discovery of sorts, though accompanied by so many of the white-” she faltered, eyes dancing to yours. 

“It would seem to indicate a total loss of innocence,” you finished. Sirius perked, casting you an impish smirk.

“A loss of innocence?” he repeated, slow and so bloody irritating . “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Not that kind of innocence,” Lily corrected. 

“It’s more like a complete change in worldview, like witnessing the death of a loved one,” you explained. Again came silence, Peter pursing his lips and lowering his head like a vigil for your fate.

“But, uh–” James stammered, “you said you also got signs of ‘unbridled joy.’ How can you have that and the death of a loved one?”

“I said like the death of a loved one.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” The intensity of his worry was blinding. You figured he had a lot of practice between Remus and Sirius. 

“I don’t know how they’re supposed to connect. That’s why I’m so confused over it.” You turned to Lily. “Do you have any clue? Any at all?” 

Lily sat deep in thought, a hand coming to her face. She rubbed down her cheek, her foot beginning to tap on the carpet. “No,” she said sadly, “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Before you had told anyone, you were easily able to brush it off as no big deal. Now, with your friend’s tensed jaws and pitying glances, your fears had been confirmed. You began to loathe yourself for drawing so much attention towards your problems, wishing that Lily would do something to hide her increasing concern. You didn't like seeing her like this, nor any of the others for that matter. Remus shifted around so he could sit properly in his chair, slipping a bookmark into the pages of his novel and tossing it aside.

“Does it have to be bad, per se?” he asked. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw James running a finger along the neck of his sweater. 

“I don’t think so," you said finally, "but I’m not sure what sort of prediction I could make based on what I’ve been able to gather. I have joy, heartache, and a loss of innocence. When I just had the joy and heartache, I thought that maybe something bad would happen that turned out to be good in the end, or that something good would turn out to be bad. There’s a million options for that, I could have easily come up with a reading to turn in for class. But that bloody red and purple fish had to come along and spoil the whole thing.” You let out an exasperated sigh, guilty once again for your rant, although no one seemed annoyed with you. On the contrary, all appeared genuinely saddened by your strange omen. 

“It can’t be that bad, whatever it is," said Lily. "You know how Divination can be sometimes. You get this awful omen and it turns out that you just break a quill or get the flu.” She leaned over towards you, face full of a profound compassion that she had worn for so many before. It reminded you of the way she used to look at Severus years ago before their falling out, when he appeared to her a small, shy kid in need of a friend. For a brief moment, your worries switched from the omen to the acute possibility you would one day be like him, mourning the loss of her friendship caused by your own betrayal towards her. 

"She's right," Peter offered, giving what he could. You smiled, trying to match his and Lily's enthusiasm. 

“I ought to owl my parents, make sure the house hasn’t collapsed,” you joked, though no one seemed to find it very funny. 

James said your name, downtrodden and caring. “It’ll be all right, I’m sure of it.” 

“You could always ask Professor Quattlebaum,” Peter suggested, voice lifting a bit.

After a moment you nodded slowly, taking a short breath through your nose. “I probably should, though it might take from my grade.”

“Or you could go fishing just kill the slimy thing,” Sirius said, making a much better attempt at brightening the mood than yours was. “That has to have some sort of effect.”

“Not really how it works, Sirius,” said Lily solemnly. 

“James is right,” you began, your tone as brave as you could bear, “it’ll be fine. It’s probably like you said, Lily. It’ll turn out to be so silly, then we’ll have a good laugh over worrying about it so much.”

After brushing off a few more comments of concern, you all went back to working quietly, Remus devouring his book once more. You tried to do the same, but your eyes seemed to gloss over the words without reading them. Eventually, Lily won the game with Peter, though didn’t gloat over her victory. As the evening lengthened, students meandered out of the Common Room and to their dormitories. Sirius was the only one left with schoolwork to do, excusing himself to his room so he could “focus on the dumbest subject in history…besides Divination.”  

“How studious!” James called out to him, watching as he ascended the staircase. Sirius threw up his middle finger, not looking back.

It wasn’t long after that you checked your wristwatch, noticing it getting late. You excused yourself to your room, the others likely heading to bed themselves sooner rather than later.

When you entered your dormitory, Marlene and Dorcas were laid out on their beds chatting. Dorcas had an impressive pile of candy in front of her: Chocolate Frogs, Dolly Beads, Caramel Cobwebs, Fizzing Whizbees, and various forms of glimmering marshmallows. Marlene reached across the space between their beds and grabbed a pink, rose shaped one, taking a large bite out of it. 

“Oi!” Dorcas protested, though Marlene only laughed maniacally, leaning back against her headboard. 

“Having yourselves a feast, I see,” you said to them, kicking off your shoes beside your bed. 

“ Dorcas is having a feast,” Marlene drawled, “and being rather stingy, too.” 

“You’re aware it’s a Thursday?” you said with a smile, glancing over your shoulder to see Dorcas open up a Chocolate Frog package. 

“I’m aware,” she said, grabbing the leaping frog in record time. It squirmed a bit in an attempt to hop away before growing still. Dorcas took a bite of it, pulling out the collectable card from the box. "Ugh, Artemisia Lufkin again?"

When you emerged from the lavatory ready for bed, Lily had just walked into the room, untying her shoes by the door. You climbed into your four-poster, getting ready to draw the curtains when she came up to you, mouth pulled to one side. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” 

You had unwisely hoped that nothing more would be said about your omen, now wishing more than ever you hadn't even brought it up to begin with. You couldn't think of a way she could help you any more than she already had, hating that she was likely racking her brain for solutions. 

You nodded, smiling softly in an effort to ease her. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s like you said, it’ll turn out to be nothing.”

She nodded, her eyes drifting across your face before she gave you a small smile, turning to retrieve her own pajamas and leaving you to cocoon yourself in for the night. You pulled your curtains closed to the sound of Lily's footsteps creaking on an ancient floorboard.

End Notes: at any point in this series, if you notice something that should go under the warnings/tags, please let me know! The same goes for grammatical errors. this gal is dyslexic, so as Nick from New Girl so aptly put it, I'm not even sure if I know how to read, I've only just memorized a lot of words. Misspellings don't even look wrong to me lol

Chapter Two

[nabipumpum]

𖦹 DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE ᴺⁱⁿᵍ ʸⁱᶻʰᵘᵒ ˣ ᶠ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Pairing - Ning Yizhuo(NingNing) x f!reader

Genre - Fluff and angst

Warnings - fights, mentions of breaking up, slight swearing, breach of trust(?), second chance

Synopsis: After a stressful month, a week off with your girlfriend seems perfect, but all your expectations for the week fall when she just wants to hang out with her friends.

A/N: I did this sleepily, so sorry if it's not very good, plus I've never written angst before. Sorry for any writing errors, English is not my first language and I’m not fluent

æspa masterlist

You sighed as you finally opened the door to your apartment, after a day of work, all you wanted was to finally get some well-deserved rest, good news was that you would have a week off, even better news was that Ning would be there too, no. It couldn't get any better than that, right?

You took off your shoes smiling, but he fell slightly after hearing more than one voice coming from the room, well, your girlfriend always brought her friends home after work, just to talk and eat something, it wasn't any different. You took slow steps into the living room as you looked at the four girls, your girlfriend was the first to notice you and smiled so wide, you felt all the stress leaving your body just by seeing her smiling.

"Dear!" She got up and ran to hug you.

“Hi angel.” you wrapped your arms around her as you inhaled her scent, it certainly hadn't been long since she got out of the shower as her hair was damp at the ends.

“Y/n! Good to see you.” Ning let go of you just enough to smile at her friend.

“It’s good to see you too.” you smiled, seeing Giselle smile back while Karina did the same, Winter had her mouth full of food.

“Your hair looks so beautiful.”

“Thank you Unnie.” you smiled and then turned to your girlfriend “Can we talk for a minute.”

"Of course! I will be back in a moment." she warns and drags you to the kitchen “Are you hungry?”

“No, I already ate.” she just nodded and waited for you to say “You didn’t tell me you were going to bring them here.” She let go of your hand.

“This again? They are my friends, sometimes I want to spend time with them.” She crossed her arms and you just sighed.

“That's not the problem, but I just wanted you to let me know, you know? It’s been a rough week, I thought we could just relax together today.” she looked down.

“Well, we can do that when they get out anyway.” you agreed.

“I’m going to take a shower.” you left the kitchen and on the way said goodnight to the three girls before heading down the hall and into your room.

You took a hot shower and changed into comfortable pajamas, finally crawling into bed with a new book.

You don't know exactly how long it was before NingNing entered the room, but you had read a lot of pages so you just assumed it was a long time. The girl lay down next to you and took out her cell phone, you told yourself to finish this chapter before talking to her, it's your law that you follow to the letter. As soon as you finished, you placed the book on the dresser and turned lightly to your girlfriend, who seemed too engrossed in social media.

“Hey,” you walked over and placed a light kiss on her cheeks, “you look beautiful.” She smiled lightly and looked at you.

“It took you a while to say that today, thank you.” she sealed her lips with yours and you smiled showing your teeth.

"Serious? I’ve already told you that five times today.” she laughed and hugged you “I miss you so much, baby.”

“Then let’s stay like this all night, you’re so comfortable.”

“I would never reject that.” She looked at you and brought your lips together again, in a calm and tender kiss, like she always did before going to sleep. One of your hands cupped her cheek, bringing her closer, as you enjoyed the moment you waited for so long and it felt a thousand times better than in your thoughts, the feeling of Ning's warmth on you gave you goosebumps as one of her hands stroked your back. You separated to breathe a little.

“God, I love you so much Y/n.” You smiled and caressed her cheek.

“I love you so much, Yizhuo.”

You slept happily, cuddled up with NingNing, all your problems were gone while you were in your girlfriend's arms. The constant work ended up not letting you have a long conversation or a affectionate and relaxing moment with each other, you certainly value the days off for finally being where you feel like you would always belong, next to Ning Yizhuo.

In the morning, you and your girlfriend cook together, laughing and sometimes kissing, you can't stay away from her for long.

In the afternoon, you were ready to order something for the two of you, until you entered the room and saw her finishing her makeup.

“Are you going out?” You asked, going to sit on the bed as you watched her.

“I’m going to a cafe with the girls.” you agreed as you lowered your head.

“What time will you be back?” she looked at you as you just played with your fingers.

“I won’t be long, maybe at five, I’ll let you know anything.” you agreed and looked at her, now she was getting up to get her bag and her keys.

“Okay, have fun.” you smiled and she walked up to you, her lips joining yours for a few seconds.

"I love you."

"I love you."

You weren't sad about it, surely the next day she would reward you like she always does, you were looking forward to it, so you tried as much as possible to make time pass quickly until Yizhuo came back and you could have one more moment with her.

It was after five o'clock and she still hadn't arrived or sent a message, you sent one to her but she didn't see it and that made you worried. You sent her about ten messages before calling and being answered by a voice that definitely wasn't your girlfriend's.

"Dear?" you mumbled when you were finally answered.

“Ah, sorry, it’s a friend of hers, she’s your girlfriend, right?” You felt your chest sink.

“Yes, where is she?” You tried to recognize the music in the background, did it lie to you?

“On the dance floor with Karina and Giselle.” you sighed and sat down on the couch “Are you there?”

“Yes…” a deafening silence remained on the line until you finally spoke “Let her know she shouldn’t be late, please.” you barely waited for confirmation before you hung up, your head throbbing.

You looked at the clock, 7PM, you sank into the couch as you heard your phone ring, but you knew who it was and you didn't want to answer it again, it wasn't the first time she had done this.

-

(You walked back and forth while looking at the clock from time to time, it was past midnight and NingNing hadn't arrived. The door was opened and you certainly never went to a place so quickly as this time.

“Yizhuo!” She looked at you and smiled.

"Dear!" She took off her shoes and you crossed your arms.

“Did you see what time it is? You didn’t tell me you were going to be late.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t even remember to have my phone, I was having fun.”

“Having fun?” she agreed “Are you kidding me?” she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Sorry for taking so long, but I needed this, it’s been a stressful month.”

“I don’t mind you going to parties Ning, but can’t you just text me? I was worried about you, don't you think there's someone at home waiting for you? You’re not single Ning.” she sighed and crossed her arms, a position similar to yours.

“I know I'm not single, but I want to have fun with my friends too, I already apologized, what more do you want?”

“I want your fucking responsibility Ning Yizhuo, that’s what I want.” She was a little scared by your tone but you didn't change anything, you can't just give in to her anymore whenever you argue.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry honey, I won’t do that again.” you nodded “I’m so sorry…” she walked over to you and placed her hands on your shoulders “Are we going to forget this?” you felt soft lips against yours for a few seconds “Let me reward you, what do you think?” You held back a smile.

“Take a shower first.” she smiled and ran off to the bathroom and you cursed yourself again for falling so easily into your girlfriend's charms and eyes, well that was why you fell in love with her.)

-

She broke her promise, she swore she would never do that or anything like that again, that she would never make you worry like that again, she did it again and you felt terrible. Did she cheat on you? Or did she just forget? It doesn't matter, she lied and you hate lies even more from someone you should trust.

You felt the tears in your eyes and you couldn't hold it back any longer, all the frustration of the month came together with the situation and made you sob from crying so much, you cringed as you put your face in your hands to try to control yourself, an unbearable weight on your chest heart as you remembered all the times someone ended up lying to you, you thought you were pathetic.

It took a few minutes for you to finally compose yourself and wipe your face and before long the door was opened. You sat down again as you looked in the direction your girlfriend was supposed to appear.

“Baby?” you saw her, she looked tense “Hey…”

“You did it again.” She flinched at your tone, you looked at the floor, not knowing what to do.

“I wish…”

"No." you felt your chest hurt “Don’t say sorry again, you promised.” you heard the footsteps towards you and felt the space on your side, you flinched as you felt your eyes burn again “What the fuck Yizhuo.”

“Are you crying? That's why?" his head turned to her.

"That's why?"

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not a big deal Y/n.” You looked at her for a few seconds, you didn't want to cry anymore. Did she think it was no big deal?

“You promised.” you mumbled.

“I just couldn’t wait.”

“You said you were going to a cafe.”

“We changed plans.”

“This changes everything.” you sighed and placed your hands on your knees as you closed your legs tightly. “You broke a promise, you broke my trust.”

“Oh, God, you are so childish.” She stood up, you looked at her not believing the words you just heard.

“Do you think I’m childish?” she agreed “Really? I’m sorry for trusting something you said yourself, I’m sorry for wanting to spend time with my own girlfriend, I’m sorry for worrying about you.”

“I’m an adult, Y/n, we both are, be an adult.”

“Fuck you.” you stood up and walked past her heading to your room, her words felt like cuts to you, your chest pounded quickly as you opened the door forcefully and heard the footsteps behind you.

"What are you doing?" She held you, you can't see her due to the tears.

“Leaving, what does it look like I’m doing?” you released your arm from her grip “Maybe you deserve someone more mature than me, don’t you think?” you picked up any suitcase.

“That’s not what I meant, honey I don’t want someone else.” she tried to hold you, you stopped and sighed heavily and wiped your tears. “Y/n please, please.” She held your hands.

“You will do it again.”

“No I… I won’t, I didn’t want to invalidate your feelings I’m sorry, please, I beg you.” You watched her bend over a little.

“You’re not going to change that easily.”

“I will, I will change, please don’t leave me, I love you so much…” you saw tears fall into her eyes. You sighed and looked to the side.

“You hurt me with what you said, you really hurt me.”

“My love, forgive me, I never wanted to hurt you, that was without thinking, please forgive me.” You looked at her, she was crying a lot now.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

"Really?" she agreed. “It’s the last time Ning Yizhuo, I swear if this happens again nothing you say will change my mind.” She agreed and hugged you.

“It will never, never happen my love, I promise.” you smiled and hugged her “I can lose everything, but not you… Oh god, never, not you…”

she kissed your lips and you felt the slight salty taste if your tears “I love you so much, I’m so sorry, I love that you worry about me, thank you for being my girlfriend.” You looked at her, you could see the affection in her eyes “You’re not childish, okay? I will never say anything like that again, never, I swear on everything, just never let me lose you.”

“That’s not up to me.”

“I know, I will do everything I can to repay you for this.”

She kissed you again, her arms wrapped around you as she cupped your cheek, you just let yourself feel her, the taste of her lips, the way she sighed as she kissed you, the world seemed to spin with the feeling of comfort that the girl passed you and the affection she left implicit in the middle of the kiss, caressing your cheek, pressing your lips carefully. You separated and you looked at her.

“I love you, Y/n”

“I love you too, Yizhuo.”

She smiled, you felt safe, you decided to trust her and now, you can say it was one of the best decisions of your life.

Your girlfriend made sure to never make you apprehensive or worried again, she sat and listened to you whenever you were stressed and just needed her and words of comfort, you felt that her fear of losing you was true just by the way she now looked much more worried before going out alone. She made you feel safe again, just like you always did with her.

Now you were sure that you belonged in Ning Yizhuo's arms.

[phecdasolar]

Tumblr I need your help I am in dire need of feral/unhinged Disaster Twins fics pleaseeee (and maybe Mikey as a bonus) I’m just in love with the idea of Raph being the impulse control for once with this iteration, and just the second he’s out of commission the other three go insane.

Weapons of War, Bioengineered Killing Machines, Manufactured Supersoldiers Rottmnt turtles my BELOVEDS

And maybe just like,,, set Leo and Donnie loose on one of the other dimensions and have them absolutely horrifically annihilate their counterparts’ villains while they watch on in horror

(B.E.A.S.T. was SUCH a good fic you guys oh my GOSH go read it I’m begging you-)

I NEED to have it addressed in fic form that the Rise turtles are fundamentally different than all their other counterparts, because their counterparts? They were accidents. Just a couple of turtles splashed with mutagen and oh look now they’re people but Green. (Huge oversimplification I’m aware but hear me out okay-)

But the Rise boys were created. They were specifically designed to be weapons of mass destruction. They were built with the intent to cause harm which means they were bioengineered to be stronger, smarter(?), faster, to heal quicker, to have the capacity to take hard hits while dishing out even harder ones, they were literally forged with a purpose to kill.

Add on their mystic powers? Then their unlocked Ninpo? You can’t honestly tell me that these four aren’t the strongest and potentially deadliest version of themselves out there.

Yes they still had to learn things, as did the other iterations, they weren’t immediately good (that much is obvious, like c’mon it’s IN the name) but I don’t think the other iterations possess the same instincts as these guys do. They’re just so. Unhinged. They’ve all had their moments in the show I think where it’s obvious they’re not really,,, stable. I love them.

In a plain fists only, maybe weapons, no powers fight, I do think some of the other iterations would win, but purely because they have way more experience than these guys do. (If I did any crossovers I’d say 2003 and 2012 are definitely older than these guys, especially if we’re basing this at the end of their shows) But put them against each other when they’re still at the same level? Rise is whooping butt, I know where I’m placing my bets. It’s called RISE of the TMNT for a reasonnnnnn they’re not there yet but they WILL BE, and as of the end of s2 and the movie I say they’re finally THERE.

I have no idea how this turned into a headcanon rant this was just supposed to be me asking for fic recs hsgdjdjdk it’s almost 3 am tho so whatever sorry if none or only some of this is incoherent o7 o/

Editing this with a list of fics I have been graciously recommended below the cut:

Firefight by remrose [43/43 chapters 222k words] (edit: JUST FINISHED READING ch38-42 WATCH ME BAWL MY EYES OUT I was rotating them in my brain all morning at work) less on the feral side, more on the gut-wrenching angst side, still Disaster Twins and still super good

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own by YukiSkyes [7/? chapters, 18k words] the CLASSIC “the Disaster Twins are unapologetically causing chaos” fic, always a delight to read

The Lemonade Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer [27/37 chapters, 143k words] I’m being told it’s very true to the theme here, and it’s very angsty, a suspenseful psychological thriller, and will make you scream at your phone. I for one am very intrigued

Eschatology by aenor_llelo, Alderous, ConcoctionsFromHell, izziel_galaxy, Jaybird314, Otakuforlife19, and Rocket999 [17/17 chapters, 344k words] “HEAVY on the boys being biologically engineered to destroy the world, it also delves into so much character building and worldbuilding that we never got in canon, and it gives even super minor characters the chance to shine” Sounds intriguing, AND it’s a BNHA crossover which I am a big fan of :D

The Hunter’s Bible also by TurtleSoupSwimmer [2/2 chapters, 15k words] Rated Mature, contains themes of SA and c@nnibalism so PLEASE keep that in mind!! Not a fic for the faint of heart this is a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! The SA is only attempted, and never shown, only implied, and it’s only in ch 1, but the other stuff is fairly descriptive and takes place in ch 2. All that being said, flipping UNHINGED, just about lost my mind in ch 2, it was entertaining in a surreal kinda way if you get what I mean. Funky little feral creatures

[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam | Chapter Four

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read the other Chapters here.

Summary: After a moonlit swim, you find Theo in the Common Room. Half asleep and buried in a book.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: This is so late and I am so sorry. I really struggled with this chapter, but I hope it was worth the wait! NSFW ahead, minors dni. Soft Theo, Sleepy Theo. First time smut writer and it is relatively soft, not super spicy sorry. It might be bad oops <3

Beams of moonlight broke through the slick of the surface, cutting down to the bottom of the lake. There was a soft current pulling at you, kelp licking at the skin of your back. Arms outstretched towards the rays, fingertips dancing through them curiously.

It was these nights, weightless and floating through the darkness, that you almost found yourself enjoying it all. No full moon to shatter your mind, to cause you to betray yourself. It brought a kind of quiet you were certain you’d never felt anywhere else, and never could.

Theo’s words were heavy on your mind, threatening to sink you with their weight. You’d tried to brush him off again, to pretend that the last few weeks had been easy for you. But it wasn’t the truth. In his absence you had only grown wanting. Finally settling on the undeniable truth of who he was to you. Who he had always been, even when you had tried so desperately to push him aside, ignore the way your eyes found one another in every room. Every breath becoming so unbearably conscious when the other was near.

It was past midnight when you found him in the common room. Tucked into the nook of couches by the window. Your hair still doused in salt. Wind-bitten and bone-tired as you pulled your clothes tighter to your skin.

You’d known he would be here, though you pushed it to the corners of your mind any chance you got. Only watery ribbons of moonlight accompanied him, splayed across his skin. Ripples of light swimming against the marks that dotted the skin of his neck, his cheek. His eyes half-drawn with the need for rest.

A book was strewn lazily through Theo’s hands as he leant back. Head resting against the lounge’s spine, losing his fight against the pull of sleep.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, unable to recall ever having seen him so disarmed before. His chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. It was a brutal thing, to see someone so themselves. To see what they might’ve been like if they’d been left completely unbruised and unburdened. It wasn’t something you allowed yourself to linger on for long.

You drew yourself closer, still engulfed by the dips of shadow that traced the candlelit walls. You came to rest by the high arched window, just a few heartbeats away from him. Wet hair curled, water running down the backs of your arms and onto the windowsill as you lazed into it. Head tilting, trying to catch the title of the leather bound book in Theo’s hands.

Curiosity was biting at you, and so you found yourself leaning towards the boy. One tentative hand on the lounge’s arm as you studied the page Theo had stilled on. It should have come as no surprise when the the candlelight flickered across it, revealing Sirens, Sea Creatures & Other Secrets of the Depths. Fondness licked at your chest, your eyes flickering from the book’s open page to Theo’s dream swept expression with a soft smile.

You turned back to the book, intrigue sinking it’s claws in deeper as you skimmed the inked paper. Reading on in a gentle trance until sleepy fingers brushed your wrist.

Theo gazed up at you through lidded eyes. Unsure if he had truly woken up, or if the dream he yearned for each night had finally come to visit him. His hand encircling your wrist surely, ensuring you would stay right where you were. Right where you were supposed to be.

“Your hair’s wet,” Theo mumbled with a barely-there smile. Your cheeks stained with the heat of being caught as his thumb ran taxing circles over the delicate skin of your wrist. “You went for a swim?”

His tired eyes lifted with question as you glanced down to the water dripping from the ends of your hair. Collecting across his forearm and sliding along the shifting muscles beneath. But he didn’t care, eyes still floating across your face as though he’d finally found his resting place.

“Sorry,” you breathed, reaching out to brush the water from his skin. But his fingers collided with yours, guiding you to a halt.

“Your skin feels like ice,” he murmured, tangling your fingers, only to bring them to his lap. Resting your joined hands atop his book and drawing you towards him, “come here.”

Theo shuffled over, guiding you down softly beside him, his hand still firmly wrapped in yours. You let him direct you, fitting snugly into the couch’s corner. He looked to you, an unguarded affection in his eyes as he watched you settle in.

Once he could feel you beside him, was certain you wouldn’t disappear if he blinked, he peeled off his sweater. Pulling it over his head, making a further mess of his already sleep ridden hair.

He held it out for you, easing it over your arms, your head. Enveloping you in something that was so completely his; the way he wanted you to be. Hands lingering at the sweater’s edges with sincerity, pulling it down until he knew you would be warm.

You smiled at the unexpectedness, settling back into the couch, his hands steering you back. Head lolling against the cushions as your eyes found his, the way they always did. He looked back at you with equal surrender.

“You’re reading about me,” you whispered. Eyes delirious under the candlelight, drinking him in. Softness spilling through your chest.

“Trying to. I like to be familiar with my favourite topics,” his shy smile grew. Head sinking further into the couch as he turned to face you properly. Watched you for a moment; the cold sting of wind across your cheeks thawing at his words. His usually guarded eyes faltered. “Have you thought about it?” he whispered, sounding much braver than he felt. “What I said last night?”

You nodded, eyes drifting from him. Going somewhere deep within yourself. He wished you would take him with you, let him see it for himself. He could’ve well done it, but he hung back, knowing it was wrong. Knowing that at least something between you needed to stay sacred to one, without belonging to the other.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me,” you returned after a moment. The path of Theo’s thumb against your wrist drawing you back to him once again. But still you wouldn’t look at him.

“You won’t hurt me,” he assured, fingers trailing down to brush yours.

“You don’t know that,” you countered, looking down at your hands. The way his fingers danced across the top of yours. How you reached for his even when you wished you wouldn’t.

“Neither do you,” he answered. Knowing he was right when your eyes finally lifted to his once again.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He could see how afraid you were; for him, of yourself, losing the both of you along the way. Every jagged edge that was keeping you away from him. How deeply your care ran. He knew it then; that he would follow you down there, of his own accord. Even if it was foolish, even if it doomed him. He wouldn’t close his eyes, he wouldn’t struggle. Not if it meant his last breath would be yours to keep.

“Then it will be my mistake to make,” he decided. One hand leaving yours, reaching to tuck a loose strand of damp hair behind your ear. Relishing in the way you hugged his sweater tight to your bones. “You can’t decide if I get to love you,” his eyes didn’t dare stray from yours, “I've already made up my mind.”

His words demolished any of your lingering doubts. You fell into him completely, sinking in the sureness of it all. The unwavering way in which he let it leave him; that he wanted to love you. Perhaps even already did. He watched you carefully, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips, fingertips trickling down your neck.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

That was all it took for you to leave it all behind. Everything you had resisted these past weeks, every part of him you’d stopped yourself from touching, basking in. You felt as though the moon had made its path early. Utterly consumed by him as you nodded, nose brushing his as you suddenly grew aware of just how close you had become.

“Please.”

His lips fell against yours within an instant, hungering for you. It almost broke you, caught you alight. Fire spreading from his lips and igniting you after weeks of kindling touches, glances. Hands threading through your hair as he drew you into him. The two of you barely able to breathe from the unbreakable warring of your lips. Your hands flying to his jaw, pulling him closer to you.

You were tired of resisting him, denying both of you of what you wanted most. It wasn’t long before he had hooked his hands beneath your thighs. Pulling you across his lap as you pressed into him, feeling all of him beneath you.

Your desperation was only mirrored in the ferocity of his kiss. A chain left from your lips to the corners of your jaw. Rough kisses smattered across your skin as his hands began to roam. Pushing up the hem of his sweater, curious fingers tracing your sides. You shivered against his touch, your hands travelling the soft skin of his neck. Drifting up its back to tangle through his hair, pulling him inconceivably closer.

In a matter of minutes you found yourself in an abandoned wing of the Slytherin dormitories. Being set down softly atop the bed as Theo hovered over you. The room utterly devoid of light save for a sliver of moonlight from the lake’s windows.

“You’re sure?” Theo asked against your lips. Though from the rasp in his voice, he was barely holding it together to be able to ask the question at all. You could feel him pressing against your thigh, the sensation dizzying as you gasped against him.

“I'm yours.”

Theo groaned at the tremble in your voice, the restraint from the past month dissipating nearly completely as he made quick work of your clothes. Your hands flying to his belt as he pulled his sweater over your head. Lips refusing to leave each other’s, fingers working blind. His hands greedy as he trailed the new skin he’d yet to touch. Both of you driven to madness until nothing remained between either of you.

Sweat and skin pressed against one another as he rolled his hips into yours. Each rock of his hips drawing a gasp from you as you struggled against him, wanting nothing more than to build the friction.

Theo only simpered, enjoying how badly you needed him after denying the both of you of each other for so long. How unashamedly you clung to his arms, the muscles straining as he held himself above you.

The length of him almost tore you apart as he pushed himself into you. Bottoming out as both of you inhaled sharply against one another. A pained sound leaving you in the rush of air from your lips, he faltered.

“Are you alright?” Theo’s eyes flickered open, blinking away the lust that had consumed them as concern overtook everything else. You nodded, adjusting to his size as his eyes softened for a moment, his hand coming to rest against your cheek.

“I won’t move until you tell me to,” he breathed, his eyes falling closed as he rested his head against yours. The pad of his thumb tracing the slopes on your cheek, your jaw.

“I know,” you whispered against him.

A tender kiss pressed to your lips as Theo gave you time. Your hands tangling in his hair, bringing him down to you for a while until he pulled back for a moment. Watching as the moonlight fell across your cheek. Tracing it with his fingertips. Wrapped up entirely by how beautiful you looked beneath him. The light spilling across your skin, catching in your eyes.

You nodded tenderly, his lips pressing against the corner of your own. His eyes flicked up to yours, as he continued to press his lips along your skin.

“You’re all I want,” he breathed, smoothing his fingers through your hair before he kissed you once more.

His lips strayed again, wandering down to the skin of your neck. Hips pressing into yours as he pushed himself deeper. Heat erupted from where he buried himself within you, the sensation buzzing through your body in waves. Pushing the air from your lungs, making you choke on your own breath. Your head falling against Theo’s shoulder, lips parting soundlessly at the fire erupting across your skin. Unable to remove yourself from where you hid in his neck. Each roll of his hips only deepening the feeling.

His hand found the side of your neck with tender fingers. Trailing up to the underside of your jaw as he brought you back, guiding you to look at him. Pulling you into him further while you shuddered against him. Lips still parted and struggling to meet his eyes.

The sight was enough to send Theo over the edge, his pace growing irregular as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His eyes completely misted at the sight of you before him; of what he was doing to you.

And as you tangled yourself into him, pulling him suffocatingly close, you tried to drown it out; that feeling.

That you had tried, and failed, to save him; and now could only love him.

Keep an eye out for Chapter Five here, or comment to be added to the tag list for future updates <3

Taglist: @hemlockmuncher @hoeforvinniehackerrr @moonlightttfae @thecraziestcrayon @itssomeonereading @weird123abc @dulcesfolklcre @amongemeraldclouds @mrsriddles-blog @cumberbitchhhh @rabbitholeee @diorandcigaddict @lovelyygirl8 @elsie-bells @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch @camille-1019 @simping-for-marvel @slytherinboysappreciation @leona-hawthorne @liaaanie @not-so-bad-ass @wildestdreamslover @nat1221 @melllinaa @aykxz98 @chgrch

if i missed anyone please let me know!

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect. 

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age. 

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things. 

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats. 

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car. 

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers. 

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie. 

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth. 

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly. 

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild. 

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions. 

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together. 

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you. 

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up. 

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes. 

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head. 

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here. 

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly. 

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster. 

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it. 

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag. 

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong, 

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets. 

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do. 

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks. 

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine. 

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts. 

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you. 

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that. 

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning. 

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness. 

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers. 

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead. 

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged. 

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone. 

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man. 

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you. 

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!” 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.” 

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup. 

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie. 

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar. 

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place. 

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out. 

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care. 

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night. 

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide. 

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile. 

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here. 

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage. 

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” 

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom. 

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready. 

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night. 

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate. 

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him. 

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders. 

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap. 

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her. 

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows. 

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you. 

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly. 

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief. 

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder. 

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name. 

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement. 

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch. 

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you. 

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish. 

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else. 

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could. 

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.” 

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak. 

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well. 

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle. 

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence. 

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you.  Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.” 

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest. 

“Naps first,” you agree.

[waitsobs]

THE LONG GAME ⋆˚࿔ chapter eighteen!

When popular actress y/n l/n's private account gets exposed, it is revealed that she has a crush on one of the girls from the girl group katseye. y//n tries to de-escalate the situation, but makes it worse, and loses her chance with the girl. The only way she think of winning the girl over is by playing the long game. 

AQUARIUM CONFESSIONS

The drive to the aquarium was pretty quiet for y/n. She never felt comfortable on her birthday. She always had a sense of emptiness that she could never shake.  

Once she arrived, she found a parking spot and walked to the front to find megan. She was really hoping things weren’t going to be awkward between them. 

When she finally got to the front, she saw Megan standing there, smiling, staring in her direction. Y/n smiled back and waved as she approached her.

“So would you like to tell me what we’re doing here?” Y/n questioned, brow raised. 

“What do you mean?” Megan answered smiling. “it’s an aquarium we’re here to see the animals.” 

Y/n shook her head, a tiny smile pulling on her lips. "No, Megan. You know what I mean. Why did you invite me here?”

"Okay don't get upset but Lara told me you don't like acknowledging your birthday." She explained.

Y/n eyes had opened as if Lara had revealed her deepest darkest secrets to Megan . She was going to open her lips to speak, but Megan read her facial expression.

"No, no, no," Megan blurted, shaking her head and holding her hands out. "She didn't tell me why, so don't worry. I won't push you to tell me unless you want to.”

Y/n was definitely going to scold Lara later but she appreciated the gesture of what Megan was trying to do. Y/n didn’t realize she had drifted off into her head until Megan started speaking causing her to snap back into reality.

“I just wanted to do something for you even though you don’t like your birthday.” Megan explained rubbing her palms together anxiously.  “You can totally leave if you not feeling this.”

Y/n inched forward and grabbed Megan’s hands interlocking them to make her stop rubbing them. “Clam down I’m not going to leave after I just drove all the way here.” She smiled, looking into Megan’s eyes 

Megan look down at their connected hands and it felt like volts of electricity just shocked her all at once. She looked back up at y/n who was giving her a thin lipped smile. “Thank you for doing this for me.” She muttered gently. 

“It’s no big deal.” Megan replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Now let’s go inside.” Megan pulled y/ns hand which was still connected with hers hauling her to the entrance.

Megan and y/n had been walking for a while. Every time they came across another aquatic animal, y/n would tell Megan what it was and where it came from.

Megan smiled, "I never knew you knew so much about animals."

"Well we did have each other blocked for like— four months so I could see why plus I don't really talk about so that's another factor." Y/n explained.

Megan scratched her neck, realizing she had never truly apologized. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I feel terrible, and I probably made you think you did something when you didn't." Megan rambled while glancing away from y/n.

"Okay, Megan, you really need to chill out. Y/n exclaimed, laughing as she turned to face her. I'm not worried about it anymore, we're good."

“Still I just wanted to apologize.”

"And you have—by bringing me here now let's keep looking around." Y/n took Megan's hand and dragged her away to see other animals.

The next animal they encountered were the sea otters. Sea otters had been her favorite since she was little because of her dad. He always got her sea otter related things and told her facts about them. In that moment she payed attention to how the sea otters moved and how they reacted with each other. 

"You want to know why I don't enjoy celebrating my birthday. Y/n spoke out, drawing Megan's attention as she continued to stare at the sea otters. "My dad passed away four years ago, him and I were born on the same day." She added, turning her head to look at Megan.

There was a comfortable silence between the two until y/n began to speak again, pulling her attention back to the sea otters. "I hate my birthday since he's not here to celebrate it with me. It sucks, you know. You've known someone your entire life, and then they're just gone.

Megan was silent as she continued to stare at y/n. In that moment, she knew she had to be there for her. She nudged y/n and extended her arm for her to grab. Y/n accepted her offer, latching onto her arm and resting her head on her shoulder.

"I can't say the same thing has happened to me, but know that he is proud of you. Please remember that you’re an amazing person. Megan expressed as she put her cheek against y/n's head.

Megan's comments sat with y/n as they stood in another moment of comfortable quietness. The two didn't need to say anything to know that they got each other.

"Thank you so much for today Megan, I was an honestly planning on just staying in my room all day and shutting everyone out."

"You don't have to think me, I understand." Megan said as she wrapped her arm over y/n's back, bringing her closer.

And the thing is, despite the fact that the two had never spent much time together, Megan felt like she understood y/n and y/n understood her, but who knows—who truly understands each other nowadays?

masterlist ⭑.ᐟ next

Taglist: @saysirhc @urmom2314 @artrizzler19 @yeetaberry127 @yjiminswallet @lara4eclipze @meiphobic @meizinisnumberone @meganskiendielsbtc @soobnotfound @linnnsworld @1luvkarina @raviolisupremacy @peranoo @vrtualstar @ssamlovr @gtfoiydlyj @firstclassjaylee @kristalag @xochitlisbest  @yazzyminny @esccecvp @snoopyiz @vivilvr @fearnotfearmore @apersonwhowrites @blushmimi | TAGLIST CLOSED

[nymika-arts]

like a river runs

chapter 2 of 10, 8.1k read on ao3 | read from the beginning

Since getting off that plane, Buck has learned three things. One, he doesn't have a car anymore, or much of anything at all. Turns out when you're dead for five years, people sell or get rid of most of what you owned. It's not that he was particularly attached to any of it (though he did love that Jeep), it's just a little upsetting to find out that everything that's yours now fits into the suitcase you carried home. 

Two, despite the leap through time, he's still jet lagged. Some fucking luck that is. He spent most of the night clicking through conspiracy theories and news articles from years ago (the former citing aliens as the most likely cause of disappearance, the latter mostly assuming they went down somewhere over the Atlantic and were never recovered), and the rest of it lying in Maddie and Chim’s guest bedroom and staring at the ceiling, wondering why the universe was hell bent on ruining his life at every turn. Which is selfish, because it kind of ruined the lives of everyone else on that plane too, but whatever. It feels personal.

And three, his favourite little coffee shop closed three years ago. Maybe that doesn't sit super high on the 'List of Things That Suck Right Now', but, you know. It doesn’t not suck. 

Oh yeah, and Eddie is married. To someone else. Four things. Four miserable facts that he’s gathered about the world he’s come home to. 

It's enough to make him want to disappear again.

Chimney let him borrow his car for a while, after a bit of a lighthearted debate about whether his license would still be valid (it's probably not, but he'll take his chances for today), so now Buck is on his way over to what used to be his home, to see what pieces of his life Eddie decided were worth keeping. 

He tries to put the radio on for the drive, but every song that comes on is something he's never heard before, and it just makes him feel more out of place. He turns it off and drives in silence.

The route is still familiar—there are a few new businesses and homes that he hasn't seen before, but mostly it looks the same—and it leaves room for his mind to wander. 

He mostly thinks of Christopher. So much older now than when Buck saw him last, almost an adult, and Buck missed it all.

He wonders what Chris is like now; whether he's still interested in space and science, or if he's instead found a passion for something new, if he's thought about college, if he's started dating, if he's got a new favourite movie or favourite song or favourite colour. He wonders if he still likes chocolate chips in his pancakes. 

In his mind Chris is still that little boy that hugged him goodbye at the airport. He'll be taller now. 

Buck grips the wheel a bit tighter and takes the final turn, pulling up in front of the house a moment later. It looks almost the same as when he left it. The front garden is a bit sparse, but Eddie was never great with plant care, so it doesn't surprise him. 

Taking a breath, he grabs the bag he’d brought from the passenger seat and starts the trek up the driveway. Inches and miles away from home.

read the rest on ao3

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she/her" pronouns used, asshole ex shows up, first kiss, Sukuna is down bad and so are you A/N: okay I'm obsessed with Sukuna and reader's dynamic, and addicted to adding little Gojo bits bc that's my baby. sooooooo I also actually had smut in this chapter BUT THEN IT WAS LONG AS CRAP. look forward to it next chapter ;) also, if you have been cheated on like I'm writing in this story I'll literally fight them (ง'̀-'́)ง

index part three | part five

part four word count : 4,475

Sukuna couldn’t meet at your usual spot tonight—he had clients to squeeze in at the shop, leaving you to wander home alone. you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment, but exhaustion from the workday quickly took over. by the time you got home, you barely managed to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, letting sleep claim you almost instantly.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of knocking at your apartment door jolted you awake. the room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. rubbing your eyes, you stumbled toward the door, still half-asleep.

standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the peephole, and your breath caught. Sukuna was on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe like he had every reason to be there.

how the hell did he figure out which apartment was yours? you’d only ever pointed him to your building in passing, and he’d never come up the stairs.

hurriedly, you unlocked the door and swung it open, leaning against the frame as you squinted at him. “let me guess—this is the part where you start stalking me and showing up uninvited?” you teased, though your tone held more curiosity than annoyance.

Sukuna smirked, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “took you long enough to open the door, princess. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“forgotten?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “more like I thought you’d finally taken the hint to leave me alone.”

his grin widened, sharp and teasing. “oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that’s not happening.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “so? what are you doing here, Sukuna? don’t tell me you came all this way just to annoy me.”

“maybe I just wanted to see you,” he replied smoothly, the teasing edge softening ever so slightly.

that caught you off guard, but before you could reply, he raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “or maybe I figured out you’re terrible at locking your door and thought I’d save you from yourself.”

your lips twitched despite yourself. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here I am,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you gonna let me in, or are we doing this in the hallway?”

against your better judgment—or maybe because of it—you stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. Sukuna sauntered past you, the smugness practically radiating off him as you shut the door behind him.

“make yourself at home, I guess,” you muttered, trying not to focus on the fact that your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment you’d seen him.

you turned to face him, only to realize Sukuna was standing much closer than before. his crimson eyes bore into yours, the smirk on his face sharper, more intense than you’d ever seen it. the space between you seemed to shrink, the air charged with something electric, something inevitable.

“you’re really going to let me in that easily?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again.

you opened your mouth to respond, maybe to deflect with a teasing remark, but the words never made it out. Sukuna stepped forward, his hand rising to cup your face, tilting your chin up with a deliberate, almost possessive touch. then his lips were on yours.

the kiss was rushed, heated, and completely overwhelming. his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you against him as though he’d been waiting for this moment forever. your fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under your grip as you melted into him, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

he kissed you like he meant to consume you, his movements bold and unapologetic, leaving no room for hesitation. and you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body moving on instinct, meeting him halfway in a dance that was all fire and no thought.

and it was perfect - until you woke up, still on your couch with the sun only just setting.

you felt like you were going insane. every thought began to revolve around one thing – Sukuna. that asshole had invaded your mind and planted himself firmly in the fucking limbic system of your brain. some guy checks out your ass at work? you imagine what Sukuna would do. you see someone on the street with a tattoo? you wonder if Sukuna did it.

it was getting ridiculous. every night your dreams were accompanied by his wolfish grin, and always ended with you waking up in a flustered sweat. and you hadn’t even seen his dick yet.

you didn’t want to fold that fast, but your urges were becoming stronger every time you saw him. lingering touches, suggestive teasing – last week on a date with Sukuna he leaned down to whisper to you, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, and your knees went wobbly.

he knew how to play the game, and obviously how to win it.

⊹ . ݁˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹

it was almost inevitable that you’d find yourself standing in front of Cursed Ink unannounced that night. the bell chimed as you pushed open the shop door, but instead of Sukuna, someone else greeted you.

“ooooh, you’re back!” Gojo’s voice rang out, his trademark grin spreading across his face in an instant. “here to see Suku?”

you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by his energy. Gojo leaned against the counter as he watched you with obvious amusement.

“uh, yeah,” you replied, stepping further inside. “is he around?”

Gojo smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “he’s in the back finishing up a design, but don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.” he tilted his head dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to peer at you more closely. “you’re braver than I thought, showing up here willingly.”

“should I be worried?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“only if you’re planning to let him give you a tattoo,” Gojo quipped, his grin widening. “though, I gotta admit, Sukuna’s been in a weirdly good mood lately. you wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

before you could answer, another voice cut through the air, cold and clipped.

“Gojo, stop pestering her.”

you turned to see Uraume approaching from the back hallway, their pale gaze flicking between you and Gojo. “Sukuna will be out in a minute,” they said flatly, their tone dismissive as if they were already tired of Gojo’s antics.

Gojo feigned offense, pressing his hand to his chest. “pestering? me? I’m just being friendly.”

“friendly isn’t in your vocabulary,” Uraume replied coolly before turning to you. “he mentioned you might stop by. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

with that, Uraume disappeared into the back, leaving you alone with Gojo, who was still grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” Gojo drawled, leaning closer across the counter. “what’s the deal with you and ol’ Sukuna, huh? friends? fuck buddies? future victim?”

you gave him a look, unbothered by his teasing. “just here to talk to him. that’s all.”

Gojo laughed, straightening up. “sure, sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could retort, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the back, and Sukuna appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. his crimson eyes locked onto yours instantly, his smirk curling into place.

“took you long enough,” Sukuna said, his tone low and teasing. “couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Gojo snickered in the background, clearly enjoying the show, but one sharp glare from Sukuna had him zipping his lips—for the moment, at least.

“come on,” Sukuna said, nodding his head toward the back. “let’s talk somewhere less… annoying.”

as you followed Sukuna into the back room, you couldn’t help but notice Gojo’s exaggerated wink and whisper behind you: “have fun, lovebirds!”

Sukuna didn’t bother looking back as he muttered, “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

Sukuna led you into the back, where the noise of the shop faded into a quieter, more personal space. Sukuna tossed the towel onto a counter and turned to face you, arms crossed, his sharp grin still in place.

“so, what brings you here?” he asked, leaning casually against the table. “couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

“hard not to, considering you’re practically blowing up my phone all day,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

Sukuna scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, I’ve been nothing but honest, princess. absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

you snorted at his reply, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the wall. “yeah, sure. that enthusiasm is just radiating off you.”

before Sukuna could retort, the sound of laughter and bickering filtered in from the front of the shop, followed by Gojo’s unmistakable voice.

“hey, Sukuna! what’s taking so long? don’t tell me you’re getting hard back there!”

Uraume’s deadpan voice followed. “Gojo, shut up before he actually kills you this time.”

Sukuna groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “these idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

he shoved the door open with more force than necessary, stepping into the main area where Gojo was perched on the counter like it was his personal throne and Uraume stood nearby, arms crossed.

“out,” Sukuna said, his tone sharp and commanding.

Gojo tilted his head, feigning confusion. “out? but we just got here! this is a public shop, you know.”

“you don’t work here, but I do,” Sukuna growled, pointing toward the door. “which means I can throw you out whenever I feel like it. and right now, I feel like it.”

Uraume sighed but didn’t argue, already heading for the exit. “don’t bother arguing, Gojo. he’s not in the mood.”

Gojo hopped off the counter with an exaggerated pout, adjusting his sunglasses. “fine, fine. but you’re no fun, Suku.” he shot you a cheeky grin on his way out. “good luck with him! you’ll need it.”

the door shut behind them, leaving the shop in blessed silence. Sukuna turned back to you, exhaling heavily as he leaned against the counter.

“finally,” he muttered, shaking his head. “those clowns could drive a saint insane.”

“and you’re definitely no saint,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from him.

“no,” he said, his smirk returning as his eyes met yours. “but I don’t mind being a saint for the right person.”

you rolled your eyes at his shameless flirting, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. Sukuna caught it immediately, his grin widening as he pushed off the counter and stepped closer.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “where were we?”

maybe tonight, you wouldn’t fight it. had he earned it yet? probably not—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. he had put in the effort, and for now, that was enough. at least, it was enough for you.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you, his crimson eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. he was close now—so close that the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trace of ink. his smirk softened, just slightly, as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a calloused finger.

“you’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with curiosity. “that’s not like you.”

you swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears. “maybe I’ve run out of insults for you.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and rich, and leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “doubtful. but I’ll take it.”

for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with tension. then, as if the world had paused around you, Sukuna reached out and cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

you didn’t.

that was all the confirmation he needed. Sukuna closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a passion that left you breathless. his hands were firm yet careful as they pulled you closer, erasing any space that dared to remain between you.

your fingers found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as you kissed him back with just as much intensity. it wasn’t gentle—it was fiery, consuming, and completely inescapable.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, Sukuna’s forehead rested against yours, his smirk back but softer this time.

“about fucking time,” he murmured, his voice rough, his thumb tracing your jawline.

you could only manage a shaky laugh, your heart racing. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, low and full of mischief. “too late, princess. way too late.”

“you’re still a sleazeball, you know that?” you teased, your words carrying no real edge.

Sukuna smirked, but beneath his cool facade, he was wrecked. one kiss, and he was done for. he felt it in his core—the raw, unrelenting desire that coursed through him, igniting every nerve and overtaking his senses. he hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to give in so soon. but though it surprised him, he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

“guess that makes you the fool for kissing a sleazeball,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

you rolled your eyes, though the faint blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t push your luck, Sukuna. one kiss doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down.”

his grin widened, sharp and full of mischief. “oh, princess, I don’t need you to let your guard down. I’ll work my way past it just fine.”

he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist now as if daring you to push him away. but you didn’t. instead, you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

“god, you’re impossible.”

“only for you,” he said, his tone softer this time, though it still carried that teasing edge.

the moment lingered, a quiet intensity wrapping around the two of you as the world outside the shop seemed to fade away. Sukuna wasn’t used to feeling like this—like he could lose himself in someone else. but with you? it felt too easy.

“so,” he drawled after a moment, his smirk returning, “you sticking around for a while, or are you running off before I start bragging about that kiss?”

you scoffed, shoving lightly at his chest. “as if I’d let you have that satisfaction.”

his laughter echoed through the room, low and rich, as he held you tighter for a fleeting second before letting go. “good. I wasn’t planning on letting you leave anyway.”

so you hung around his shop for another hour, the place eerily quiet with his coworkers gone and nothing but the sound of his tattoo gun as he practiced a design to fill the silence. you swung your legs back and forth while sitting on his client chair, humming in tune with the buzzing of his gun, but every so often your hums would falter when Sukuna’s hand would reach over and deliberately brush your knee to “reach something”.

would he take you right here if you wanted? on his chair, in his shop? how far could you push before he snapped – or rather, how far could he push before you begged him for it?

you were lost in your sinful thoughts, so drowned in the daydream of being bent over the client chair, that you barely registered the door’s bell until Sukuna gave your leg a nudge. you followed his line of sight and froze at what you saw.

without a word, you slid off the chair and ducked behind the half wall dividing Sukuna’s workstation from the rest—quick and quiet, like a startled cat. Sukuna blinked at you, baffled. “uh, what’re you doing?” he asked, arching a curious brow at your sudden panic.

“shhh!” you frantically gestured for silence, pressing yourself flat against the wall. his eyes darted from you to the couple who’d just entered the shop. “it’s my ex,” you whispered, voice tight, “and the bitch he cheated on me with.”

oh. oh… he glanced at you, then back at them, and a devilish grin curled at the edges of his mouth. oh, this could be interesting.

turning his attention to the unsuspecting customers, he straightened up and spoke in his smooth, confident drawl. “welcome in,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with today?”

you could only see the faintest glimpse of their feet from where you crouched, heart pounding. every fiber of you screamed to make a run for it, but the thought of darting past them felt worse than staying hidden. your shoulders tensed as you tried to breathe quietly, praying they wouldn’t notice you.

Sukuna, meanwhile, oozed confidence and calm, as if he were fully in control of this bizarre situation. “so,” he began, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter, “looking for something special today?”

you could hear the slight hesitation in your ex’s voice as he answered, “uh, yeah, I’m… I’m looking to get a piece done.” the muffled tone made you think he recognized Sukuna’s presence as a bit intimidating—or maybe he was just nervous about committing ink to his skin. the woman beside him, no doubt the reason you were pinned to a wall right now, added something you couldn’t quite make out. her tone was sugary, too sweet, and you wondered what Sukuna would make of her.

the only that thing Sukuna was not enjoying right now was the idea that you were making yourself small. you were shrinking into your hiding spot because of this guy, who he had already pegged to be a tool. surely you knew you were better than him, right?

Sukuna let out a low hum, taking his time as if sizing them up. “sure, we can work something out,” he said easily. “I’ve got a couple spots open tonight. first, though… mind telling me what you’re thinking of?”

a creak of footsteps on the floorboards made you tense further. were they moving toward your hiding spot? your jaw clenched as you tried to make yourself even smaller, practically molding into the wall. above you, Sukuna’s voice remained steady, casual, and you imagined the crooked grin on his face—especially now that he knew exactly who was shopping for ink in his parlor.

the silence stretched for a second, and you couldn’t help but picture Sukuna’s expression, that wicked fire flickering in his crimson eyes. he was enjoying this, savoring every second while you trembled in hidden terror.

your ex cleared his throat. “thinking something… minimalist. maybe a small phrase.” his voice sounded unsure, as if he was trying to impress the girl at his side but had no real clue what he wanted.

“minimalist,” Sukuna echoed, no judgment in his tone, only interest. “got a phrase in mind?” he paused and then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, asked, “or maybe a name?”

the question hung in the air, loaded and dangerous. you stifled a gasp, your stomach twisting. he wouldn’t—

but Sukuna was nothing if not a master at stirring the pot. you could almost feel his amusement drifting down to you as you pressed yourself flat, praying that whatever he had planned would stay just subtle enough to keep your cover from being blown.

the new girl’s heels clicked slightly on the wooden floor. “a name?” she repeated, a note of suspicion creeping into her sugary tone. “did someone recommend this place to you?”

your ex cleared his throat, sounding flustered. “n-no, just... I’ve heard it’s good, that’s all.” there was a restless shuffle, and you imagined him rubbing the back of his neck. you recalled that nervous habit all too well. “I was thinking of something small. a word, maybe. something about fresh starts.”

you could almost see Sukuna’s grin widening. “fresh starts, huh?” he said, voice dripping with false innocence. “funny you should say that.” he paused just long enough for the tension to climb another notch. “I had a client once, real sweetheart. she’d come in here from time to time. got a little something done not too long ago after breaking it off with some jerk who didn’t know what he had.”

oh, god. you bit down on your lip, hard. did he have to lay it on so thick with a complete lie? you pressed yourself flatter, arms aching from how tense you were.

the girl was the first to speak up. “is that so?” her voice was tight, and you could picture her narrowing her eyes. “sounds like a lot of drama for a tattoo shop.”

Sukuna huffed a laugh. “you’d be surprised what people tell me when they’re under the needle.” another short pause. “y’know, you look a bit uncomfortable. why don’t we step over this way?” he took a step, leading them farther into the shop—closer to your hiding spot.

your heart lurched. each footstep echoed like a countdown to disaster. you could almost feel Sukuna’s presence looming overhead, his amusement rolling off him in waves. he was enjoying this too much.

your ex’s voice cracked slightly. “uh, well, maybe we should—”

too late. the girl’s gaze drifted, probably scanning the area. then a sudden hush fell. you knew it was over before you even looked up. her shoes came into view on the other side of the half wall. she must’ve caught a glimpse of you, maybe just your shoulder or the top of your head peeking out.

“what the—?” she said, stepping forward as if drawn by morbid curiosity.

the sound of her voice so close made your heart sink. slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting hers from your crouched position. your ex let out a strangled, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sukuna, for his part, didn’t even pretend to be surprised. he just crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with that lazy smirk. “ah,” he said, voice smug. “found something you like, doll?”

you pushed yourself to your feet, cheeks burning, arms stiff from holding yourself so still. every part of you wanted to vanish on the spot, but here you were—caught red-handed.

your ex’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with embarrassment and maybe even a hint of guilt. the girl at his side set her jaw, looking between you and Sukuna as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Sukuna’s grin practically dripped satisfaction. “well, now that the gang’s all here, how about we figure out exactly what kind of ink you need,” he drawled, his tone low and mocking. “I’m sure we can find something… fitting.”

you straightened, trying desperately to summon your usual composure despite the heat creeping up your neck. your ex opened his mouth, probably searching for some kind of explanation or retort, but Sukuna beat him to it.

before you could blink, Sukuna draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close against his side. his smirk softened into something affectionate as he addressed the pair, acting as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “sweetheart, I didn’t know you were expecting visitors,” he teased, his tone dripping with insincerity. “you should’ve told me. I’d have rolled out a red carpet.”

your ex’s face twisted, a mixture of shock and annoyance flickering across his features. the girl beside him stiffened, arms crossing defensively. “we’re not here to see—” she stumbled over her words, glaring at Sukuna’s arm around you. “we just wanted a tattoo. that’s what this place is for, right?”

“sure is,” Sukuna agreed, casually squeezing your shoulder as if to emphasize his claim. “but I’ve got to say, I only do my best work when the vibe’s right. isn’t that what you said earlier, princess?” he dipped his head slightly, nose nuzzling the top of your head for added effect, as though waiting for you to chime in.

you swallowed hard, noting the challenge in his gaze. fine. two could play at this. “uh… yeah,” you managed, forcing a small smile. “he’s very particular.” you settled your hand on his chest, partly to play along, partly to steady yourself. the hard muscle beneath his shirt didn’t help calm your pulse, and you found your fingers drawing circles against the fabric to lay it on extra thick.

your ex’s jaw tightened. “we don’t need the attitude. we came for a tattoo, not… whatever this is.” he waved a hand at you and Sukuna, clearly unsettled by the dynamic.

Sukuna responded with a slow, dismissive chuckle. “you know, I’m getting the sense that we’re just not the right fit for your ink tonight. could be my mood, could be the… circumstances.” he let the implication hang.

the girl scowled. “forget it,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “come on, let’s find another place.” she seized your ex’s arm, tugging him toward the door. your ex hesitated for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on you—was that guilt in his eyes, or just frustration? you couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t care. he’d made his choices long ago.

“fine,” he bit out, finally letting himself be pulled away. his voice dropped, grumbling under his breath as they retreated toward the exit.

the bell above the door jangled softly as they slipped out into the night, leaving just you and Sukuna behind. his arm remained comfortably around your shoulders, and you were acutely aware of every point of contact. the nerves that had been wracking your body gave way to the heat you’d been feeling earlier, just from his touch.

finally, he released you, stepping back with that signature grin still firmly in place. “well, that was fun,” he said, tone light, as if you two had just won some sort of game.

you forced a laugh, hand rising to rub the back of your neck. “fun, huh?” the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of what just happened.

Sukuna shrugged, eyes gleaming. “sure. just doing my civic duty. asshole exes deserve a little show, don’t they?” his smirk softened—just a fraction. “hope I didn’t overstep.”

your heart still hammered, but you managed a smirk of your own. “I’ll let it slide… this time,” you teased. “next time, maybe give me a warning before you pull something like that.”

Sukuna chuckled, heading back toward his station as though nothing unusual had happened. “where’s the fun in that, princess?” he called over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[chaoticallywriting]

Animals ⋋Chapter One⋌

A/N: Thank you to all the love that I've received over the prologue! I did change the name from Beastly to Animals for all those who may be confused. It just felt better. This will be updated every Saturday unless otherwise stated. As always, thank you so much to @blitzs-largest-horsiest-dildo for proof reading this for me <3

Pairing: Silco x Reader (eventual/slow burn), Viktor x reader (past/ex's)

Summary: Heartbroken and disgraced from your lifelong dream coming to a halt and the only person you've ever loved abandoning your scientific pursuit. You decide to turn towards a newfound Kingpin in the city you once called your home in hopes of making your dreams come true.

Warnings: Classism, arguing, theft, lack of self care, mentions of prostitution, mentions of nausea, mentions of teenagers operating bars, poverty

WC: 4.7

Before // After // AO3

So maybe in your haste to pack you might have stolen your shared savings that you had both stored away in a floorboard under your mattress. Maybe you were using said savings to get a cheap apartment in the Undercity and maybe you spent the first four days wallowing in bed while combating a nasty cold.

You were never the one to get sick, always tried to keep yourself healthy so you could watch over Viktor. Never stayed in the cold for long, always kept yourself warm, tried to eat regularly. You wonder how he is, if he's figured out it's over. If he's missing your fingers in his hair like you're missing his. Is he peering out at the nasty weather in your old apartment, wallowing as you are?

You'd shared goals with Viktor, or so you thought. You whispered them while you were meant to be sleeping as teenagers, after you moved in with him and his ailing mother. She worked doubles despite her horrid cough just so he wouldn't have to work and to thank her for letting you share a bed with him, you ended up working at some dodgy bar near the pier. Should a fifteen year old be pouring beer? Probably not in Piltover, but in the Undercity a job was a job, and if you were old enough to wipe your own ass then chances were you were old enough to do whatever brought in cash.

But those nights, the ones where your legs would tangle under the threadbare blanket on his bed due to the lack of room and his arm would wrap around you, that was when you'd whisper about your dreams. All you wanted was to make the Undercity a better place, and more specifically wished to clean out the water that the city got it's main food source from. The fish were as questionable as the air in the mines or the quality of light and so no one batted an eye if one of those bad boys had three extra fins or if the insides held a concerning green hue. If it didn't immediately kill you then it would only make you stronger. A motto used in many establishments.

The water was highly toxic, toxic enough that it made being a fisherman one of the most dangerous careers in the Undercity. Spending all day out in those oil slicked waters, fingers getting nicked from fish hooks and then soaked in the salty, polluted amalgamation Piltover tried to pass off as 'safe'. The life expectancy of a fisherman was short and children were told to be grateful your pops lasted as long as he did.

You were meant to clean the waters, and then use the money made from your purifier to fund the medical research needed to keep Viktor and so many other street rats alive. To clear their lungs of the pollution constantly swirling inside, embedding itself into the very lining of such a vital organ. But it's gone, all of it.

On the fifth day you finally get up and shower, you've been surviving off of stale crackers and slop from a food stall right outside your building. The lack of proper nutrition left you a bit nauseous and swaying lightly as you take the stairs down to the busy streets two at a time. From your brief time apartment hunting (if you can call taking the first place you found apartment hunting) you learned there had been a shift in power recently. While the infamous Vander hadn't necessarily in charge of the Undercity, he had helped keep it afloat.

Back when you had spoken to the landlord of this mold infested joint, he had offered you one of his cheap cigarette's. After quickly declining he had waddled over to the counter of your new kitchen and blown a puff of smoke into your face. His voice was raspy as he muttered to you about the recent happenings in the Lanes. "Now that new big shot's got some drug gettin' sold in the clubs and a' bars. Don't get hung up on that shit, I don't need any a' my tenants usin' rent money on some glowin' purple liquid."

"Big shot?" It had been years since you lived in the Undercity and they didn't exactly have a newspaper to help keep their citizens up to date on recent happenings. Word of mouth was the best you'd get, so you pried some more but all he had to offer was how a bunch of important people wound up dead a couple weeks ago. Roughly around the same time that big explosion happened at Jayce's apartment. Stupid fucking Hextech.

Now the Last Drop is under construction. You needed more information, and there were certain places in this city that got information faster and more accurately than anywhere else. One place in particular was so popular and high in demand that just about any half decent girl born in these slums had debated trying out for a spot on the staff just to get them off the streets. Babette's.

The Brothel had been around since before you were born and potentially before your own mother was born too. She had briefly worked there before meeting your dad and some of the older staff members had always been kind to you in passing. They made sure to treat the girls like family, so if you were related to one? Well then it was your lucky day.

It's early enough that the place is practically desolate, the front rooms near the entrance are empty, being cleaned by the back of house staff, and the sounds coming from nearby bedrooms are few and far between. You pass them all, heading straight for the office you had last gone into in order to say goodbye to the woman in charge. Now you're rapping your knuckles against the worn wood, nose scrunching as the intense fragrances of a nearby incense wafts over to you. The citrus scented smoke only serves to remind you of your lack of breakfast as your stomach almost turns.

A muffled, "come in," comes from a worn voice you'd recognize anywhere. You venture inside the office where an elderly Yordle sits behind a wooden desk that looks nicer than most pieces found in this city. A cigarillo is held between two of her fingers and the usually jovial expression seems replaced by something mournful. She's somehow aged ten years and somehow you know it must be because of the rumored deaths at the warehouse.

Her expression only softens upon spotting you, eyes saddening even further. The cigarillo gets dropped into a metal ash tray and suddenly she's up and walking towards you. "I thought you escaped."

So did you. All you can offer is a shrug and a watery smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Soon the yordle is beckoning you and you're bending over to hug her so tightly she might just pop like a balloon. But she doesn't, she only hugs you back.

"Oh honey, what happened? Did something happen to Viktor?"

His name only furthers your tears, causing cracks along the mental dam you've been building over the past few days. You grip at her lascivious robe, breaths coming out a little choked for a minute or two. Only a minute or two. You can't keep losing it, you won't let yourself. You got out of bed determined to fix this shit. Crying won't do anyone any good.

"He abandoned our research, found someone new with a shinier idea." Before you can stop yourself, you're confessing everything to her, sparing no details. You watch as her eyes begin to blaze when you mention getting tossed out like some kind of vermin. At this point she's managed to coax you into one of her arm chairs that reek of smoke and cheap perfume. She rings a bell for tea and some porridge, something hearty to help fill your empty stomach. Your exhaustion and poor self care must be obvious because she stirs in some honey to your porridge before handing it to you. Part of you wishes she had taken you in as a teenager instead of Milena and Viktor, maybe then your heart wouldn't feel like it's been split in two.

But Babette had known a brothel was no place for a teenager, despite the dubious ages of most of the working class in this city. Even if you'd just lived with her, you still would've been connected to this place, and she always said it'd drag you down if you stayed. Everyone thought you were too brilliant to be tied to this city, but now your here and he's up there.

"I heard," you say after swallowing a mouthful of hot porridge. Your tongue burns from it, but you find yourself barely caring. "That Vander died?"

There was a time when you were far younger, before the attempted revolution on the bridge, where it seemed most of the Undercity was finally a united front. There was still crime, still backstabbing, but it had become scarce among fellow street rats. Instead foreigners were targeted for pick pocketing and scams. Your dad had spoken a few times about secret meetings over oily boxes of Jericho's only for your mom to flick a clump of rice at his face in return. 'I won't become a widow just because you let some smooth talker convince you to become one of their soldiers.'

He'd grunt and pout the rest of the meal, pushing around his fried tentacles before little eleven year old you would dart for one of them. The mood would lift and all would be forgotten.

"Yeah, him and three of his kids. Rumor has it he's got the living one locked up somewhere. No one's seen her."

That's darker than you expected. Messed up shit happens all the time in the Fissures but it's still a shock, especially when there's kids involved. There was a time when there was so few that made it past the first couple months, before the filtration system had been put in place. Children were a rarity and teenagers were shocking. You were told stories of that dark time seeing as you were one of the few born right before the air ducts were built.

While you remained fine with lungs relatively untouched, the kids in your age group were sparse. Viktor wasn't as fortunate as you were, but you both had a theory that genetics also played a part in his misfortune. With his mother passing away from a common and supposedly incurable illness. Right now it was mainly just his leg and an occasional cough during winter, but that same cough is how it started for her.

"Listen, kid. . ." She relights her long forgotten cigarillo, smoke swirling through the room as the elderly mistress inhales deeply. Her fingers rub against the worn paper, lips pressing into a thin line. "If you can get back into Piltover, do it. Shit's changin' and I can't promise it's for the best."

She means well, she's only saying this because she cares. You try to remind yourself of this but you find yourself setting the half empty bowl down with a roll of your eyes. There's nothing left up there, nothing to go back to. You both destroyed your chances; him with you and you with… Well everything. You stole from him, destroyed academy equipment, and called those enforcers variety of colorful names. They probably laughed about you to their coworkers over drinks that night. Probably didn't care if you wound up dead after tossing you out like trash. You go up there and you lose your pride. Which is just about all you have left. You'd rather scrape your way through the underbelly of this city than lose that.

"Who's the big bad that's got everyone all scared?" With a lofted brow you pick up your chipped cup of tea that is mostly lukewarm. It has copious amounts of honey in it, just the way you like it. "I was born and raised here, I've dealt with Undercity assholes and Piltover assholes. You know how many guys I've fucked up from my days bar tending."

She stares into your eyes and you simply stare back as you sip your tea. Your stubbornness is something many hate, it's a trait you've been told to work on all your life. But your mom was stubborn just like you, and Babette always found it endearing. Until now, it seems, at least you think so. You aren't one of her girls, she can't frighten you with stern motherly love. So after a few beats, once your tea is almost gone, she finally speaks.

The new big shot (as your landlord dubbed him) is named Silco. An ex revolutionist who ran 'The Children of Zaun'. He helped organize the big bridge riot all those years ago and for some time he went quiet, licked his wounds, or well, according to Babette, his wound. "It's frightening, unnatural. Nothing is normal in this city but that reeks of the kind of shady dealings that'll get you in Stillwater."

He's responsible for all their deaths. Apparently some big fight happened at his old hideout, some abandoned factory. But that was blown to smithereens so he's taken his seat at his new throne. The Last Drop.

Most of the coziness has apparently already been torn away. Neon lights and some big addition to the back are being constructed. And the purple liquid Mr. Landlord mentioned? Babette calls it shimmer, well first she calls it bad news and then she specifies that it's actually called shimmer. Some new drug that tops all the others, that's dangerous beyond dangerous and yet-

"So he's a chemist?"

"I didn't say that, he's just the one distributing it. I don't think Silco could make shimmer himself. That wasn't his specialty."

You frown, calloused hands gripping your empty tea cup. "But he has to know who made it if he's distributing it. Which means he knows an extremely skilled chemist. At least if this stuff is as bad as you're saying."

She scoffs and slides off her chair. Her cigarillo has since burnt out and despite the fact that it's barely midday, she heads straight for her bar cart. She uncorks some bottle with a worn label on it, pouring herself a glass with her hunched back facing you. "It is bad, kid. The worst. I know you wanna make everything better but a guy like Silco will just destroy whatever it is. He's not a good guy anymore, not since the bridge."

"I'm not saying he's a good guy, Babette. I bet the chemist is an ass too. But my idea, it could make them millions and if you're telling me he once wanted to make this city a better place then-"

"Shimmer won't make this city better," she interjects. Her glass is already empty, so she fills it again. "He just wants power. Please , for once, listen to me."

The stroll you take around the docks does little to quell your thoughts. You have two options and both aren't looking so great. Option one, you listen to Babette and maybe get a job bar tending again to make ends meet. You try to scrape together the materials you need for your purifier and hopefully stumble across a biochemist worthy of helping with your project. If you don't manage either of those then you drink every bar in the Undercity into closure.

Option two, while far riskier, holds a much higher reward. You break your promise to Babette and find a way to talk to this Silco man. You manage to work alongside his biochemist and make your childhood home the thriving community you always envisioned. Whilst potentially only drinking one bar into closure.

If for some reason you can't convince the big bad one eyed monster, then either he kills you or you go back to option one. Which, in some ways, will most likely be worse than death. Giving up on your dream, scraping to get by, letting go of the last speck of joy in your life.

As you reach the end of a pier, the oil slick water comes into view. Swirls of pinks, greens, and yellows all float along the surface, looking like some kind of gorgeous painting that would be held in a pretentious gallery in Piltover. But it's not art, it's how your people live. It's what killed your father and continues to slowly kill so many others. A school of four eyed fish swim by, bodies swaying through the thickened waters.Hope flickers in your chest, a familiar flame that's felt doused in this tumultuous time. You can still make a difference.

Maybe by the time Babette finds out you broke your promise, your purifier could be done and she'd see that what you did was worth it. If not then, well, the Undercity is used to losing people. At this point the only person left who would even notice is the old Yordle herself. Your parents are dead and you sort of isolated yourself growing up. You'd clung to Viktor and stuck your nose up at others. Occasionally you'd let Skye come around but it always made your stomach twist with how she gazed at him. You know it's the same way you look looked at him. Like he hung the moon and painted the stars. Like you'd die if you didn't feel the brush of his lips against your own.

The taste of salt jars you and your shaking fingers brush against wet droplets gliding down your cheeks. Perhaps coming to the docks wasn't the best idea, it always made you feel sad, as reminders of your dad often did. Your heart is already so fragile right now. With a slight scrunch of your nose you aggressively wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath. The salty ocean air offers a slight change of pace from the Undercity's smokey streets and the stifling halls of the academy. You welcome it, even as the slight burn from the pollution clings to your throat.

You can't let others hold you back anymore, not Viktor or Babette. You know she means well but you need this like you need air. This idea is all you have and you cling to it like some fiend desperate for their next fix. It's not worth living if you can't have this, perhaps you could have been placated with a simple life in the shadows, if you had him with you.

But you don't.

Your feet carry you back to your shoddy fourth floor walk up apartment as you think of how you need to make this work. The idea of turning the Undercity into a better place with your invention and ideas not only thrills you because of the positive change that would come of it but because it would feel like the perfect revenge. A middle finger to your ex, a way to shove in his face everything he gave up.

Moving quickly, you shove everything you need back into your bag before rushing off once more with a slam of your door. You almost forget to lock it in your haste for your destination. Just like you almost miss the last step of the stairs or how you continuously bump into others as you race through the streets. This is the most invigorated you've felt in weeks, even before the breakup. Viktor had been coming home later and spending less time in the lab, and it had made you feel invisible, like your work meant nothing. But right now as your boots smack against uneven cobblestone your heart races with that same feeling you get right before you solve an equation. Like that last puzzle piece has finally been found.

So Babette will never know of you standing in front of the Last Drop as construction workers wrap rope around a metal beam and use a pulley system to lift it up into the air. She'll never know of you gripping your bag that's full of paper and journals and your metal model. Babette will think you're at home, wallowing as you told her you would be. Crying over a broken heart instead of marching past two frightening looking men that stand on either side of the double doors. Shoving Jericho's into your mouth instead of side stepping piles of building materials and loose nails.

Maybe she thinks you'll go looking for a cat to suffocate with all your sadness, not sliding up to the bar where some lanky kid is pouring over blueprints. "Hi," you say as you totally don't break your promise to Babette.

The guy, who couldn't be older than maybe seventeen, jerks his head full of greasy hair up to you. His eyes shoot up to his brows, lips smacking before stuttering out "oh we aren't open yet! Uh, if you're here for the lunch delivery you just leave the food at that booth over there." He shoves his pencil in the direction of the booth, waggling it for emphasis.

You just shake your head, fingers tapping against the sawdust covered bar. "I'm here to see Silco."

His face reminds you of a fish fresh from being caught. Right after your dad would pull the hook from their mouth, they'd just sort of gape at you. This must be his first job, you can't recall being this nervous at the bar but then again, that felt like eons ago. The sounds of construction from outside fill the awkward silence that follows, sawmills, hammering, curse words and shouts. The usual.

"Is he here?…"

"No one is allowed to go see him. He's busy."

"I get that, but I've got something he might wanna see."

For all his awkwardness he finally regains some semblance of normalcy, at least the kind of normalcy you'd see on any other kid. He drops the pencil onto the counter that is littered in papers and blue prints and shakes his head, letting out a deep huff.

"He'll be mad if I interrupt him. I'm sorry. Maybe uh, mention it to the guys by the door and they can tell him you came by. They actually talk to him . . . Sometimes. I've never talked to him. Or seen him, I just bring the contractors whatever they ask fo- Oh shit they asked me for these blueprints!" He scrambles to grab fistfuls of the paper, pencil clattering to the floor and suddenly he's off.

Leaving you alone. In the building that Silco is supposedly in. Hmm, your feet drag you towards a cramped looking staircase to the left of the bar. The mezzanine above is small, just shoddy wooden railing, maybe five steps and then a door. To the left you can hear construction just past the wall, this must be where they plan to expand. You wonder what's included in this grand idea of his, maybe a special murder room? The way Babette spoke of him he sounds like he'd want a place to beat up innocent people.

Only one more obstacle. There's another beefy guy in front of this door. He's not all nervous and unsure like the kid below, instead he's standing with his chest puffed out and his hands clasped in front of him. He's got a gun strapped to his waist and arms the size of your head. You aren't a fighter, you're a scientist, an engineer to be specific. You can throw a decent punch when it comes to handsy drunkards but a professional? Yeah, that's not happening.

"Get out," his voice is gruff, very stereotypical of a big scary guard. Maybe you'll get to keep your promise to Babette after all. I mean you can't break it if you never even managed to see him. But still, you step forward and let out a deep, shaky sigh.

You take another hesitant step forward. "Look I'm not a threat, you can literally stand directly behind me the whole time if you'd like. I just really need to see this guy."

"No."

Your shoulders slump, eyes beginning to burn. You just need a win. If you don't get a win soon then surely you'll combust into a million tiny shard of despair. Maybe that's what causes you to blurt out your words, voice a little louder than intended as you swing your arms about for emphasis.

"I don't know who you are, I barely know who this guy is but I do know that people say he used to want to change this place for the better and I-" you swing your bag around, hastily opening the flap and rip out a handful of crumpled notes. In your haste to grab the papers you hadn't noticed the guard withdraw his gun but you see it once you look up. Your hands shake, voice wavering. "I have this brilliant idea, something that can help. So if you just let me in."

He doesn't move, gun still pointed at you. He cocks a bow, so you wave your hands. Gods if you could see yourself a week ago you would have laughed. You're about to cry in front of this stranger while brandishing your research papers and blueprints at him. You probably look insane. Maybe those blue bellies were right.

"Just let me in! This is revolutionary, it's something he'll want to back if all the rumors are true!"

The guard shoves his gun back into his holster, but your excitement is short lived as he walks over to you. Rough hands grab your waist and you begin to wiggle in his grasp. Strange men need to stop manhandling you and you need to invest in some knives so this doesn't happen again.

Your hands smack against his back as he tosses you over his shoulder, papers clutched tightly in your fist. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" You bark at him, "How fucking dare you, How fucking dare all you fucking me-"

"Egor, set the loud woman down." From the way you're being held you can't see who said that, but their voice is smooth and masculine. It runs down your spine like honey slowly running down the handle of a teaspoon. The brute of a man slowly sets you down, his emotionless eyes staring down at you before he steps aside to let you through. "Thank you."

As you finally lay eyes on the talk of the city, you get what Babette meant earlier when she'd referred to Silco's wound. Before you is a tall, lithe man who holds himself with a certain confident air. His sharp face has two very different and very striking eyes; one sea green, kind of the like the foam that bubbles over the water sometimes, and the other bright orange, like a flame.

The orange one is surrounded in inky blackness and you find yourself wishing to ask how he managed that. It's got to be something with medicine or drugs or a procedure because well, people don't just develop literal black eyes. But even then his impressive eyes aren't the only striking feature. High cheekbones, a strong nose and sharp jaw- he looks almost aristocratic. Like he's to good for street rats like you.

"I'm not usually loud," you utter after a few beats of silence. Silence spent with him looking you over as you gawked at this strange and yet powerful man. You wouldn't have needed to hear all the gossip to know it either, not with how he holds himself. Power and control rolls off him in waves and sort of sucks you in. "I'm just desperate."

"Desperation tends to lead towards mistakes."

His eyes rake over you once more before lingering on your hands which are still white knuckling disorganized research papers and notes. You slightly loosen your hold and in the overwhelming silence you can hear the slight crinkle from them.

"Can't make mistakes if you've got nothing to lose."

His lips, narrow with a defined cupids bow, slightly quirk to the right at your words. "Even more dangerous if you have nothing left."

Despite his words Silco steps to the side, uttering "come in." You find yourself quickly obeying and your heart begins to race once more. As you step over the threshold something feels final, your boots press against the floorboards and some kind of line has been crossed. You don't know what or how but something drastic is about to happen.

And then the door clicks shut.

Taglist : @soniiyi @galactic-magick @adsky4 @alexandra-001 @drpepper280 @mac-and-cheese21 @watasinekoru @anthy-j-ander @fudosl (if your name is struck through than it would not let me tag you! You may need to check your settings)

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

Me after chapter 201 (What took you)

So, about Ando. (And his contradictions) huh.

We start of with the most important thing, Sakamoto telling Ikari that she's a creep. (Thank you Taro, she really is. ) Before Shin picks up Andos weapon to threaten him.

It's clear that the stress of the whole situation is just getting to much to bottle up finally. He sneaked on the cruise to find him, in hope to reconcile with him. He's been on his own for FOUR YEARS, looking for information about Ando. Mind you, since he was only 9. He's barely even a teenager with 13 right here. He probably slept on the streets, and who knows what he had to deal with. He's skinny and probably doesn't get to eat regularly. Same for his eyebags, he probably can't find a safe spot often enough. (Not to forget the insane sensory overload he must feel compared to the underground lab. And I don't just mean his ESP with that.)

He's angry. His hopes for connection got crushed with his own father trying to kill him (multiple times). He's scared because at this moment he's probably convinced he will forever be alone. He's tired and probably hungry. He's overwhelmed so he points the gun at Ando.

Now Taro is trying to stop him, but mostly because he still wants to avoid the bomb going off. (Or so it seems at least) The fact that Ando has to die is less of a question for Taro, he's still his target. It's just a question of when and by who I think. He, already, doesn't want Shin to kill someone in anger. And although we can't see his thoughts here, he probably also doesn't want Shin to be the one to kill Ando specifically.

Now. Important is also that Shin only actually shot because Ikari scared him.

He says himself, he didn't mean to. He really just wanted to force an apology out of Ando. And as a child, that grew up on his own around violence, the threat of violence was probably the most obvious answer to do so. And yet, he didn't actually want to shot. He's a child, he's scared. And because he's scared, he physically jolted when Ikari started shouting and pressed the trigger. It's all inhis eyes. He didn't expect the bullet to come out. He didn't want to do this.

Now. Well. Ando. We have a short insight in Andos mind. While Ikari is trying to attack Shin, before he jumps between them to save Shin.

He's thinking about spending 13 years to escape the JAA, all because he saved Shin as Al Kamaar as a baby, only for Shin to show up with a hitman and mess it all up. And it very much sounds like he still resents Shin for it. He even thinks that he shoul've let him die as a baby. (In the official manga plus translation. In another translation he evn thinks about killing Shin as a baby.) And well, he then saves Shin, only getting injured even more.

And this is all just contradicting itself. Andos words and thoughts and actions. He talks about saving Shin as a baby, but who put him in Al Kamaar in the first place? He saves him, but who tried to kill him a few minutes ago? Who let Shin be thrown overboard a few chapters ago? (And it's very likely that Ando did that in order for Shin to have a chance of survival, somehow.)

One moment he resents Shin, in the next his parental instincts seem to show through after all. (And has Ando figured out that Shin can read minds? He seems to be Intentionally thinking those words here. This could support the theory that Shins powers are actually born, andAsakuras potion just triggered them accidentally.)

All in all, I'm pretty sure that Ando might be mentally unstable. (I mean, who isn't in Sakamoto Days. And at one point Ando mentions being soft in the head, which is probably just a throw away line. But who knows.) His mind can't settle between an urge to protect and resent Shin. It was probably a moment of clarity, that made Ando drop Shin of at Asakuras lab. And even though they already didn't seam to have seen each other for a long time at that point, he seemed to know that Asakura would take care of Shin/protect him. Even when Asakura would complain about it. (He also talks about "What would Asakura think about this?" when Shin is pointing the gun at him. Which makes Shin angry. This seems to be directed at Shin, but it might as well be directed at himself. Because what would his old friend think about him trying to kill the child he left in hi ssafety all those years ago? Surely nothing good.)

Shin is rightfully upset about all of this, curling up in himself. Because Ando couldn't even say those words about Shin having grown so much out loud. Now. Taro reminds us though that there's still a bomb on the ship, that will explode the moment Ando dies. (Is it like linked to his heartbeat? What.) Telling Shin to keep him alive long enough for him to find and dissarm the bomb.

When Shin says he's going with him to help, because the engine bay is to big, Taro actually tells Shin to stay back and use the remaining time he got left with his dad. Which... well. In the end Taro seems to understand that Ando is still important to Shin in some way. It's an absolutely messy situation in so many ways. Also because, again, the only reason they meet was because it was Taros job to kill Ando. But he wants Shin to be able to at least say goodbye to Ando. (Something Taro couldn't when Rion died.) But Ando also knows that Taro probably won't be able to find the bomb, which would mean Shins death as well if the ship explodes. So, seemingly set on wanting Shin to live in the end he decides to tell Shin the bombs location. And to go with him, while he will hang on until he gets back.

Which he probably won't. I think he just doesn't want Shin to see the moment he dies. Not to forget that Taro would protect Shin if the bomb goes off after all. In the end, his parental instincts are trying to protect Shin. Both physically, and mentally. Even if it's way to late for that.

Well. I'm definitely crying. This is all a huge mess. Taro, please get your newly adopted son to therapy instead of teaching him how to be an assasin.