#god. one of the shattered is based on a dream i had about a boy who knew he was in my dream and was desperately searching for a way out

[boygirlctommy]

oh my god the demonvampires. the shattered. i forgot about all the LORE of the october hills universe

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (Part 17)

A/N: So here it is ... hum... yeah there you go

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT? ADULT? 18+ F!reader

The way back home was long. It took 24h for the extraction to be ready. You had been feeling exhausted. Price and Simon had been checked up by the doctor on base. Soap had been keeping an eye on you and had also forced you to be checked by the doc, who had clearly told you you needed rest, food and water. Simon had kept you close to him at all times and you hadn't complained a single second. 

You were glad to be able to fly home with everyone. Absolutely everyone. You had fallen asleep on Simon's shoulder in the plane back. The boys were thrilled, the plane wasn't their usual military plane for once, the comfort was amazing to them after almost two months on the field. 

Hopkins had greeted everyone upon arrival. He had eyed you worriedly, and you quickly realized you'd have a lot of paperwork and meetings to attend to in the next few days. He nodded your way, telling you to rest. 

Finally heading home felt like a dream. Like a haze. For a second, you were scared it wasn't real. That you'd wake up and he'd be gone. You glanced at him, in the driver's seat, brows furrowed behind the mask as Soap gaz and Konig were chatting in the back. 

Once home, you had dropped your gear on the floor in the living room. The boys were jumping around, happy to be home. You sighed, closing your eyes. Arms wrapped around your stomach, a strong body behind you. 

"Come on. Let's go draw you a bath." He said. 

"Simon.. you're one who almost got killed. You��� got tortured-" 

"Hey hey.." he hushed, turning you around. 

"I've gone through worse. Much worse. This is nothing. I'm worried about you. If you want to help me, please be a good girl and let me take care of you. That's all I want to do right now." He argued. 

You smiled a bit, tired eyes never leaving him. 

"Fine… but you're taking that bath with me…" you murmured. 

He chuckled, before nodding. 

"Sergeant. Go rest. We're going to as well. We'll order something to eat a bit later on." He ordered the boys.

Soap nodded, Konig and Gaz too as they all went their separate ways. 

You walked up, hand in hand with Simon, Riley's little paws tapping on the floor. He tried to make you walk into your room but you immediately pulled him to his. The bed was still a mess. He noticed. Riley jumped on the bed taking his usual place. 

"I see you've both made yourselves at home." He teased. 

You froze. For a second you wondered if he was angry. 

"I'm.. sorry.. I-" 

He frowned. He pulled on his mask, taking it off. God you had missed his face..that man was so handsome. He gazed at you with worry in his eyes. 

"Baby, are you alright?" He asked. 

You didn't know what to answer. Four days. Four days was all it took to completely shatter your world. You had gone through the full spectrum of emotions in four days. 

You opened your mouth unsure of what to say. You bit your lip. No. You shook your head no, feeling the wave of exhaustion, relief and so much more fall on you. You cried. And he held you. The sweet nothings falling to your ears like poems from ancient times. He wiped your tears, dropping kisses to your cheeks and nose, he sat down on the bed, pulling you to his lap, letting you cry out your pain. 

You held him, time freezing on the spot. This, was all you wanted. You had begged and hoped all possible strength out of this world that he was alive. You didn't know which god you had to kneel to, or which divine energy answered your prayers but you were eternally grateful. His hands caressed your hair, making sure to not pull on the tangled mess they had quickly became in a short span of time. 

He rose after long minutes, holding you as he walked to the bathroom. He sat you down on the counter, wiping away the remaining tears. He kissed you deeply before heading to the bathtub, letting the water run after checking the temperature. You watched him. His muscles, his movements, his hands. You wanted to die with the imprint of his form behind your eyelids. You wanted to tell him. To confess all the love and adoration you had for him. 

He walked to you, pulling on your shirt to start undressing you. Every touch on your skin made you want to pull him close and never let go. The little shivers, goosebumps. He lifted you up without a single effort to remove your pants and panties. You gasped when he put you back down, the cold stone surprising you. He chuckled, kissing you again. 

He was about to walk away when you wrapped your legs around his waist. His gaze darkened instantly. You reached for the hem of his tactical shirt. He let you remove it, eyes looking into your soul. 

"Let me take care of you too…" you whispered. 

He nodded slowly. You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. You could see his skin ravished in goosebumps as your fingers, in featherlight touches, brushed over his navel. You removed the pants, he helped you, pulling them down and stepping out of them. He was starting to get hard and you smiled softly. 

"You have too much power over me little bunny…" he whispered. 

You grabbed his face softly, kissing the corner of his lips. 

"Let's get into the tub before it overflows…" you sighed. 

He picked you up as you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He stepped into the large tub slowly dropping to sit down. The warm water on your skin felt amazing. He reached for the faucet, turning off the water. Picking up one of the various products from the shelf, you took some Buble bath, but he stopped you. 

"Not yet." 

You frowned. He grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining with yours to make you let go of the bottle. He brought both of your hands to his lips, lips brushing each of your knuckles in little kisses. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss every inch of you if that's what he wanted. Lips caressed yours, kisses filled with promises and silent confessions. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your hands get lost in his hair. 

His hands rubbed your back, up to the nape of your neck, down to your lower back. It felt hot. At this point you didn't know if it was the water or his skin that made you feel so warm. 

"Simon…" you whimpered. 

"You haunted my thoughts…" 

You closed your eyes, basking in his voice. 

"Every second. Your eyes… your lips… your voice. My mind was high on you…" 

You bucked your hips, rubbing him and yourself together in a slow dance. He pulled you closer, wet hand getting lost at the back of your head, meddling with your hair. 

"I didn't fucking care what they did. You were all I could think off. You kept me fighting. Alive. Just so I could come back to you." 

You wanted to cry. Your heart felt like it would burst from the emotions. 

He was hard. You could feel it against your clit. 

"You ready love?" He asked against your lips. 

"Yes…please Simon…" 

You craved it. It was like a mortal sin but a need. Like breathing. 

He lifted your hips as you positioned him at your entrance. You made sure to drop yourself very slowly into him, you had no problem, this man could get you wet so easily. You let every inch of him stretch you, burning the sensation of him filling you up slowly into your brain. He let his head fall back, his grips on your hips tightening. 

"Oh fuck baby…" he moaned. 

You closed your eyes, the heat wave the sound caused making you clench around him. 

When he finally bottomed deep inside you, you stopped. You were already pulsating around him and, even if you wouldn't last long, you wanted him to feel everything you couldn't say to him. 

You slowly grinded against him, earning a groan from him. He pulled himself up, letting his forehead touch yours.

Huffed breaths mixing, moans and groans filling the room. You rode him, kisses, tongues and lips, bites. 

The world? What world? What universe? Him. It was him. The galaxy, the nebula's, the morning sun and the crashing rain. It was him. 

The pace increased, he helped you, pulling you up to make you bounce on him. 

"Simon..si-" you moaned. 

"Y/N.." 

The water splashed, the ground would be full of it, but who cared? Who cared about the time ticking? The water spilling? 

He angled you perfectly, watching your face to know where to hit. He could read you like a book he'd never stop rereading. The familiar build of pressure deep in you making you grind with him in harmony. He chased his own high, watching you unfold before him. And it was peeking. The breaking point. 

"Si..mon… fuck… please.." 

"That's it bunny… I'm right here… keep chasing it…" 

You looked into his eyes, he reached for your clit, soft circular motions ready to tip you off the edge. 

"You gonna cum baby? You're gonna cum my bunny?" He growled. 

"Y..yes.. please… cum with me…" you begged. 

He smirked. And it was there right there… almost there… 

"Bunny… eyes on me." He ordered. 

And you did. You never wanted to look away. 

"Good girl…my good girl… go on… cum with me.." 

One more thrust. Another one and the tension broke. He grabbed your throat making sure you looked at him as he spilled himself deep in you. 

"I love you bunny…so. fucking. much. " 

You weren't sure you heard it correctly. You weren't sure. You're mind was dizzy from the heat and your orgasm completely crushing you. You tried to catch your breath, face in his neck. His large hands caressed your back again. He slowly pulled you up, slipping out of you. He kept you on him. He let you rest on him as he reached for the bath salts and threw some in the water. He pulled you away from him make you spin around so you could lay on him, back again his chest. 

He slowly let your head back, wetting your hair slowly. He applied a bit of shampoo before starting to massage your scalp slowly. 

"Simon…" you tried. 

"Yes darling ?" 

"You said it…" you whispered. 

"... I did." 

"I love you Simon." 

"I love you Y/N." 

Simon's way of coping seemed to be taking care of you. And the way you coped was by being constantly near him. 

After the bath, once you were both clean, he had taken you out to his room, dried you up before dressing you in his clothes. He let you dry your hair while he got into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. You had slipped into bed with him while Riley had laid down near the bed. You had let yourself fall asleep in his arms, his own breathing evening. 

It was already late noon when you both woke up. The house was quiet. You had gotten up begrudgingly, hand in hand going downstairs. The boys were in the living room, sprawled on the couches, TV on. 

"You guys napped too?" Gaz asked. 

"Yeah…" you answered. 

"We all did… guess we all needed to rest." Soap added with a smile. 

"You guys hungry? We should order some food." You proposed. 

The boys agreed and jumped on the occasion to make the order. You had, very unwillingly, let go of Simon's hand to head to kitchen to feed Riley. The big boy seemed to be happier. He wasn't fully eating as much as he should, but you cheered and praised at every bite and it seemed to work. Simon had also praised him with a good boy and it made you smile. 

You had dined around an hour later, before finally heading to the couch, watching a movie. You had looked around. The boys laying around. Simon hugging you. Riley's head on your lap. You let yourself finally rest.  They were here. 

During the rest of the week, your team passed by and remained during the day. You were so happy to have everyone with you that the loud noise didn't bother you at all. Melissa and Amy also spent time with you and you just felt so glad to be so surrounded. 

You had noticed how Bishop and soap seemed to get closer and closer. Bishop's boy, Tyler, really liked Soap and you could see how it made her smile and melt. Konig and Grim had their own little conversations in German, and you didn't remember the last time you had seen each of them so comfortable with someone. 

Price on the other hand… well it was complicated. You had seen little touches, little smiles. But one was too scared and the other wouldn't let himself give in. 

You had sighed in contempt in Simon's arms. 

The nights were spent in his room. He wanted you near him and you didn't want to sleep without him. To be honest, you had been having nightmares. Horrible ones where he wasn't here. Where he did not come back. You would slightly jolt awake, not screaming or anything. But it was enough. Enough for him to wake up, enough to notice. Each time he'd make sure to cuddle you and reassure you. 

Kate had been trying her best to keep away the unavoidable meetings and paperwork, but it caught up with all of you. Once Monday hit, everyone had to at least attend to some urgent matters. Missions reports, meetings. Very annoying things. You had headed to base in his Jeep, Riley in the back, following the boy's cars. Once on base the looks were very much noticeable, but none of you cared. You parted ways as he dropped on kiss on top of your head through the mask. 

Riley remained with you as you headed to said meetings, video calls with higher ups. There was a mix of feelings in the ranks, you had gone through reckless behavior, but you had brought back the full squad. You had ordered a blow up on a facility but you also had brought extremely important Intel. Eventually, you had managed to reach a compromise on everything. They'd be more careful with your squads, you'd make sure to remain their safe little bird and keep getting important Intel. 

You had been furious of their mistake on the extraction point, and they had fully understood that.  

It took several days to get back a bit of freedom, even for the boys but eventually, here you were. The two squads mixed, walking around the mall. Amy in Simon's arms while Melissa talked with Bishop, Soap and Coyote. 

You had lunched together before now roaming around, alternating between little shops in little groups. Eventually, Amy had decided to walk hand in hand, in between price and Coyote. For a second you asked yourself if the little girl knew and if she was enjoying her little game. 

Tyler had grown on Soap, they were getting inseparable. They'd run around, getting to stores, playing, and it made you smile. 

Bishop and Melissa had walked into a clothing store, dragging you with them. They picked up some little summer dresses, dragging you to the dressing room to try them on. 

You were on your fourth dress, and a high level of 'this is starting to be annoying' when you heard Simon's voice behind the curtain. 

"Yes?" 

"Can I step in?" He asked. 

"Sure." You smiled. 

He walked in, taking a double take on the little dress you were wearing. 

"You look beautiful. You should get the dress." He said matter of factly. 

You chuckled. 

"What's wrong?" You questioned. 

"Need you to do something for me." 

You frowned. He lifted his t-shirt up, and you gasped. 

"Simon! Here?!" You whispered-yelled. 

He laughed. It made you smile. 

"Not what I had in mind but don't test me too much." He warned teasingly. 

He reached for his pocket, getting out a little tube. You frowned in confusion. 

"My lipstick?" 

"Go on. Put it on." 

"Simon… i don't understand…" 

"Go on bunny. To please me." 

He didn't need to say anything else. You rolled your eyes for the theatric move, but picked up the lipstick before turning to the mirror and applying it. You smeared the lipstick, pressing your lips together. You finally turned to him. 

"Alright. What now?" You asked. 

He had crossed his arms on his chest, muscles flexing. 

"Drop a kiss." He ordered. 

"Sorry… what?" You huffed a laugh. 

"Anywhere. Drop a kiss. Leave a pretty mark." He ordered again. 

You frowned, shaking your head a bit. 

"What's gotten into you?" 

"Bunny." He warned. 

You rolled your eyes again. He grabbed your ching making you look at him.

"Roll you eyes at me again. Go on bunny. Try it. I'll ruin you against that mirror and I'll make sure the whole fucking store hears you." 

You gasped, your cheeks now burning. 

"Now come here. And paint me." 

You closed your eyes, smirking. You tried to gain back composure. 

"Alright. Fine." 

You stepped closer to him, looking at his body. Just the thought of it made you squeeze your thighs together. 

"A kiss baby. One. Behave." 

You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. 

"Bunny. Behave. I already got one punishment for you. You don't want to add another one." 

You faked a pout before turning to your task. A kiss. Where? Did it matter? You wanted to kiss every part of him. You finally settled for a spot. You dropped your head to his ribs, on the left side almost hidden by his arm. You dropped a kiss, making sure to leave a pretty print. You looked at your handy work, lifting your hand to slightly smudge the lower corner of the left side of the print, leaving a little smudge that made it almost like art. 

"Why did you do that?" He asked. 

"If you want the perfect thing you'll have to come back again… and again." You teased. 

He chuckled. He took back his t-shirt putting it back on him. 

"Simon… what are you doing?" You were truly confused now. 

He lifted his mask, kissing you deeply, making you melt in his arms. 

"Thank you, I got what I need." 

He smirked before pulling down his mask, grabbing the lipstick and stepping out. You remained there confused for a second before shaking your head and turning back to the mirror. You brushed the little flowery dress with your hands. It was pretty. Maybe you'd buy it. 

You changed back into your clothes, heading back out to the girls. 

"Heyyy. What happened in there?" Bishop teased. 

"I wouldn't be able to explain because I didn't get it either." You answered. 

"Damn. He's that good?" Melissa joked as well. 

"Oh you have, NO idea." You smirked, making the girls woo. 

You headed with them to the counter to pay for your things. You had decided to get only the little dress. 

"Will that be all?" The cashier asked with a smile. 

"Yes thank you!" You said returning her smile. 

"Well, it's been paid for already." 

You blinked the girls wooing again. 

"The lieutenant…" the cashier tried, now a bit confused. 

"Of course.. hum… thank you." You said with another smile. 

You walked out with them when bishop decided to tease more. 

"He loves to spoil you rotten doesn't he?" She joked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

You shook your head but couldn't stop yourself from smiling. If only they knew what you knew. The way he had eyed you in that dress. That man spoiled you anytime yes, but this dress.. he wanted to rip it up and fuck you in it. You wouldn't complain for a second though. 

You had joined the rest of the team. Amy was still happily settled in between Price and Liza. But someone was missing. 

"Where's Simon ?" 

"Oh he said he got something to do. He'd join us later." Price informed you. 

You frowned but nodded. 

"There's another shop that you NEED to see." Melissa almost yelled. 

"Guys… I'm tired…" you whined. 

"Come on. You need to." Melissa confirmed. 

You were curious. You had rarely seen her so adamant about something. So you accepted. It caught soap and Gaz's attention who decided they wanted to follow you too but we're quickly shut down by Melissa and Margo. Now you truly were curious. They slipped their arms through yours and walked away with you. 

The store was mysterious. There were no open windows to look inside. Nothing that could tip you on what the store was. You had stepped in to be in shock. Not only was it a lingerie store, but it was much more than that. Little costumes, some toys and accessories like handcuffs and collars. 

"How the hell was this permitted on base?" You asked in a laugh. 

"I think we should all secretly thank Kate." Melissa added. "You got to follow me. When I saw this, I immediately thought of you." 

You frowned but she grabbed your hand, dragging you and a very curious Margo behind her. When you finally stopped in front of some mannequins you finally understood. 

"Oh my god. YES." Margo squealed. 

You looked at the little pink dress. The velvety fabric mixed with fake fur and lace. It was a strapless dress, two pom poms acting as buttons on the corset. A flowy skirt with white lace at the bottom. Two separate sleeves, and white fishnets thigh highs. But the most noticeable feature. The bunny headband with pose-able white fluffy bunny ears. 

"Oh my god…" you said under your breath. 

"I will BUY it for you if you don't." Melissa warned. 

You smirked at her. 

"Oh don't worry. I'm going to buy it."

 

It had been a full hour and half and Simon hadn't come back yet. You wondered where he had run off to. 

"Y/N, Y/N!" Soap called. 

You turned to him. 

"Can I take Riley to training?" He asked full of hope. 

You weren't exactly against it… but you were a bit scared to leave Riley with anyone else for now. 

"We'll have to think about it." 

You spun around at the sound. 

"Hey, where have you been?" You asked. 

"I ran a little errand." He answered. 

You were confused. He winked at you. 

"Let's head home." Price called. 

Everyone agreed, and home you were headed.

 

Once home everyone went their way. The girls had gone back to the house in front of yours, Melissa with them. Price had gone to base. Riley walked upstairs with you to put your new purchases in your room. Riley jumped on your bed as you closed the door behind you. It made you so happy to see him so comfortable. He loved to cuddle Reaper and it made you melt.

You started putting away your new clothes when you spotted the pretty pink outfit. You bit your lip. You wanted to try it. You jumped up grabbing the bag and running to your bathroom. You very meticulously put in the outfit. You made sure the fishnet thigh fit, even though they squished a bit your thighs. You put the bunny ears, putting one of the ears down cutely. You spun around looking at yourself in the mirror. 

It was cute. Pretty. You wondered how Simon would react. You picked up the last little thing in the bag. Turns out the store did another very interesting thing. Leather collars, that you could personalize. Now these weren't pet ones… not that kind of pet at least. You chose a pink one, the little medallion engraved 'Bunny' and the back… you bit your lip. You were really curious about his reaction. 

You walked back into the bedroom, looking for your phone. You noticed Riley on the bed. His tail wagged when he saw you and you smiled. You sat on the new on your knees, petting the pup who turned around for belly rubs. He decided to give some love back by licking up your hands to your face. You giggled, trying not to be attacked by the amount of love he was sending your way. 

When the door opened, you jolted back, Riley taking back his usual protective stance. 

"Y/N, have you-" 

Simon stared at you. He looked shocked behind his mask. You bit your lip. Was it too much? Did you go overboard? Riley jumped from the bed, joining Simon. He wagged his tail, ready to get his attention.

"You've been a good boy. You've been keeping an eye on my bunny. " He said. Eyes never leaving yours as his hands ruffled the fur around Riley's neck. 

"How about that training buddy huh?" Riley growled, suddenly fully alert, he was perfectly aware of what it meant and he looked excited. 

"si-" 

"Sit right there baby. Just stay there and look pretty for me. I'm gonna take care of you in a little moment."

He headed to the door, swinging it open. Riley had followed up like a good pup. 

"MCTAVISH." He roared in the hallway, making you jump. 

You heard the rush of Soap's footsteps up the stairs. Simon grabbed the handle of the door, slightly closing it to hide the view of you, sitting on the bed, cute little pink bunny suit, no underwear. 

"Yes lieutenant?" Soap's almost shaky voice asked, probably slightly scared of the tone he was called. 

"You wanted to take Riley for a little training. today's your chance."

"Really?! fuck ye-" he roared happily. 

"Take Gaz and koning." 

"What?" 

"I have to repeat myself? you have two minutes to get out of the house." 

You could see him take his phone out, you quickly realized he was setting a timer. 

"TWO minutes. Starting. Now." 

Soap scurried off calling Riley's attention who followed him. Simon walked back into the room, closing the door behind him. 

You were wet already. The feeling of his hands on you was a craving that burned bright deep in you. You squirmed, earning a chuckle from him. 

"Look at you.. so needy." 

"Simon..." you whined. 

"Keep sitting pretty. Two minutes my love." 

He put the phone up on the chest of drawers making sure you could see the timer. You watched the seconds tick down with anticipation. 

"Be a good girl. Be patient. This is the first step from teaching you obedience." 

You bit your lip. The velvety fabric of the dress making you shiver, your skin almost crawling at every touch. 

"You'll be a good girl. And you're going to wait. If you do so. You'll get a reward. If you misbehave. You'll get punished. Am I clear?" He explained in a dark tone, leaning back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded. 

"Use your words." 

"yes..." 

"yes who?" 

"yes lieutenant..." you whined. 

"Good girl." 

You grabbed the sheets underneath you. His eyes roamed your body, suddenly the temperature seemed to have risen way too much. You watched him take his mask off, putting it down next to his phone. Two minutes. You never felt two minutes pass by so slowly. 

"You look so pretty, baby. Where did you get that?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. 

"At.. the mall. There's a shop…" you tried to explain. 

"I'll have to pay them a visit. See what else they got for my princess." 

Princess? That was new… you blushed heavily. He laughed at that. 

"You like being called princess? I can see you blush from here. The way your skin gets rosy… all the way down to your beautiful breasts." 

The more he talked, the wetter you got. You could feel the warmth mixed with wetness in between your legs. 

"Look at you. Being a patient darling for me." He praised. 

He reached for his shirt, slipping it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. And you noticed it. The piece of plastic to his skin… where… you left a lipstick mark. 

"Simon?" You questioned. 

He followed your gaze. Smirking. 

"You… you tattooed it?!" You asked, ready to jump towards him. 

"Bunny. Stay on the bed." He warned. 

You froze. Now this was torture. He dropped a bomb on you and now… now you had to sit still? 

"Yeah I did. I wanted something on me. From you. Not a jewel. Not a piece of clothing… something no one could take from me.." 

"Simon.." you whined. 

Your fingers grabbed the sheets harder. Your heart felt like it'd fly out of your chest. 

"Go on..whine." 

There was something. With him. His behavior. Was it the near death experience? The way he saw you breakdown from the sheer fear of losing him. The way you clung to him since he arrived. What was it? The way he looked at you. The way he licked his lips looking at you. His gaze dark. 

"You've put yourself in danger. Do you understand?" He started, voice a few octaves lower than usual. 

You nodded shyly. 

"You were in a danger zone. You strayed away from the team when you were told not to." He continued. 

You remained silent. 

"I can't bear to see you hurt or in danger…" 

"I couldn't bear losing you Simon.." you argued. 

"I know baby. I'm right here now. I'm gonna take care of you." 

The ringing echoed through your mind and body. The timer. He grabbed the phone, angrily turning it off before putting down on your desk, stepping closer to the bed. God. The way he walked. How did this man could be so fucking hot by simply walking? 

He reached you, grabbing your chin softly, making you look at me. 

"Fuck you look adorable…" he cursed. 

He dived down, ceasing your lips. The slow, deep kiss made you moan against him. You straightened up, trying to get him closer to you. He stepped back, grinning. 

"You were patient. Like a good girl. Lay back baby." 

You happily obliged, laying on your back head on your pillows. He looked at you, almost like a predator. You wanted to say it felt like a wolf hunting a Bunny, just for the beautiful picture of it, but this wasn't a wolf. It was something darker. More powerful. He was a demon, some shadow like king and you were at his mercy. At his mercy, yet completely safe.

He raised his hand letting his finger caress your cheek before letting it travel down your neck. Slowly, achingly slowly, he passed over your chest, traveling down your stomach, straight towards��� he didn't touch you. He simply hovered it before moving to the end of the bed. He kneeled down, positioning himself in between your legs. His big hands squeezed your thighs making you giggle, earning a grin from him. 

"You know… I'm not gonna take off your pretty outfit. I'm going to fuck you in it."

You felt your breath stop in your lungs. His hands traveled up and down your thighs, slowly raising the skirt of the dress. Of course you didn't put your panties on. 

"Fuck… look at that…" 

You blushed. He had seen you naked so many times. He still found the words to make you blush like a schoolgirl. 

"Such a pretty little pussy…" 

You felt his hand rise up towards your heat, his thumb hovering over your lips, not applying pressure. You tried to wiggle your hips but his other hand held you in place. 

"No. You'll get it, when I'll allow it. Understood?" 

"Yes… yes lieutenant…" 

"Good girl. See. You can be such a good bunny for me." 

His thumb rubbed up and down your slit, finger coating in your juices. You bit your lip, a little moan escaping your lips. You tried not to wiggle again. His eyes never left yours as finally rubbed your clit very softly. He watched with fascination your every moan, gasp, lip bite. 

"I need to taste you…" 

Your eyes flashed open wide. You wanted to say something but it was a bit late, he was already lowering himself to you. He pressed mouth open kisses on your thighs. The anticipation was killing you. He looked up at you before biting on your thigh. Harshly. You yelped, hand flying to his hair to grasp it. He sucked on the skin, breaking the little blood vessels underneath it, making sure a dark red bruise was visible. He looked at his handy work before kissing the little mark, making his way back to your aching little cunt. 

The little breath on your lips, made you sigh. He kissed it, making you blush again. His tongue licked through your folds in a long straight line. He groaned against you, the vibration only adding to your pleasure. 

"Fuck.. you taste divine." He groaned again. 

His tongue made sure to explore every sweet spot, it felt good. It felt, really good. You were glad that the house was empty because you kept moaning loudly. Your hand in his hair, tugging slightly every time he licked or sucked at that little bud of nerves. He was making you sensitive. You could feel goosebumps as the sight of an orgasm was getting closer. 

He played with it. He made sure to lick and press with his tongue until he felt your body getting more and more tense, moans getting louder and then he'd stop. Just to do it all over again. Tongue savoring you, he built up your orgasm again, this time he kept going, through the rise of your voice and the tremble of your legs. 

"Si..Simon… gon'cum.." 

He stopped. You whined loudly. He sat back up in between your legs. You looked up at him pleading. He lowered himself to your face. 

"Taste yourself on my tongue.." he whispered. 

He kissed you, tongue salty. You moaned, trying to wrap your legs around his waist but he stopped you. 

"This is the punishment, remember?" He said with a smirk. 

Getting back into position, he let his fingers run up and down your slit again, thumb teasing your clit again. You moaned the pleasure slightly more intense from the edging. His index teased your entrance before slowly pushing in. You gasped, wiggling your hips. Now he played with your clit while slowly pumping his finger in and out. 

"Let's add another finger… you've taken more than that… my cock fills you much better than this." 

A second finger at your entrance before you stretched out to welcome both. Now he played, curling his fingers inside to build you up again. But denying you. He'd stop, remove his finger, hands back on your thighs to caress them but nowhere near where you needed them. You were starting to feel overwhelmed, the tears prickling at your eyes. 

He started his torture again, thumb on your clit two fingers pumping in and out at a slow steady pase. He curled them again making your head fall back. You felt yourself tip over the edge… almost.. almost there. Until he removed his fingers again. 

"No!" You whimpered. 

He chuckled darkly. 

"Now bunny. Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" 

He stood up, looking at you as he slowly unbuckled his belt. The fucking sound always made you clench around nothing. He undressed himself, his already hard cock in his hand. He pumped himself a few times, the sight of you, legs wide open just for him making him groan. He kneeled down in between your legs, tip brushing against your clit, coating himself in your slick. 

He noticed the collar, fingers grabbing the medallion. 

"Bunny. Now that's cute. What's written in the back?" He questioned spinning the metal in his hand. 

He froze. You didn't think he'd react like that. Not for just this. 

"Say it. Out loud." He ordered. 

He was asking you to say out loud what you had asked engraved on it? You looked away but he quickly stopped you, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

"Say it. You've been a good girl. If you want your reward. Say it." 

You wanted your reward. You needed it. 

"Property of Lieutenant Ghost Riley…" 

He pushed his tip through your folds, a familiar burn making you arch your back. He pushed himself until he bottomed out. He wasted no time to pound you at a steady pace. His hand remained around your neck, watching you as his name spilled from your lips. You were sensitive. Too sensitive. He had denied your orgasm too much. He let go of your neck, grabbing your thighs as he looked down. 

"Fuck… what a sight. Your.. shit… your pretty cunt… taking me… fuck… so well…" 

You whimpered at his words. The tears had long won their fight, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to remain at least focused on him, mind dizzy. 

"Si.. Simon.. please…" 

"Fuck.. look at you. Tears running down… fuck… your face.. I love ruining you." 

His pace quickened, hips smacking into yours. You were loud. Shit you were loud. He shifted again letting go of your legs to let you wrap them around his waist. He grabbed your wrists, putting your hands over your head. He intertwined his fingers with your, eyes planted into your as he fucked you passionately. 

"Are.. you, going to listen to me?" 

You nodded frantically, unable to speak. 

"Words..use your words." He ordered. 

"Y-Yes! I'll.. listen… please… please…" you tried. 

"That's it baby, keep your legs open for me

give me full access to you, keep your body open… you're taking me so well, fuck I'm addicted to this... you're a fucking drug." He praised you. 

You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted to cum so badly, it burned.

"Please.. lieutenant! Please!" 

He chuckled again. But you could feel in his own thrusts he was close.

"You're going to be… a good girl?" He growled. 

"Ye-s… yes! I.. be your good girl…" you whined. 

"I'm gonna fill you up baby, and you're going to take it.." 

"Please!" You whimpered again through a cry. 

He looked at you, slowly angling himself to hit the perfect spot. You were breaking apart, finally reaching your orgasm.. a thrust and you were gone. Little spots blurring your vision. You were sure you screamed his name as he pounded you through his own orgasm. It took a long minute to catch your breath. You were still crying. He had caught you in his arms, praises falling from his lips. He kissed your soaked cheeks, repeating how much of a good girl you were, how you did so good for him.  

"You alright bunny?" He asked softly. 

You nodded, biting your lip. 

"You were amazing darling. You've done so well, I'm proud of you." 

He kissed you, little kisses, sweet. 

"I think that bunny suit has awakened something in me…" he teased. 

You couldn't help but giggle. The bunny suit had been an amazing idea. You'd make sure to wear it more often. 

-------

Damn...

tags 1:

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust @novausstuff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboi @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @critter-mylo @honeymariee @badame0224 @kitty-satan1 @all-good-things-have-an-ending @tianotfound @thriving-n-jiving @hailstrum18 @kiruoris @thats-s0-ravenn @orcasarebigbabies @makastaco @abajointrossyearl @kaylynninice24

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Not Yours, Never Was

Pairing: Tom Bennett x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Jealousy. Violence. Eventual smut. Word count: ~4k

Summary: She's been friends with Tom since childhood. When he returns to Manchester, following his escape from France, they become something more. The problem with Tom is that he's never quite willing to define what "more" actually is. Based on this request.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Tom rolls off of her, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, as he gasps for breath. One arm snakes around her shoulders as she cuddles against his chest, while the other reaches for his cigarettes on the bedside table.

She basks in the closeness, a satisfying ache between her thighs, knowing the moment is almost at its end. She listens to the click of the lighter, inhaling softly through her nose as a waft of smoke fills her nostrils with its familiar scent.

Then come the words she's been dreading.

"You should probably push off home, love, Lois will be back soon." 

She nods, rising from the bed and beginning to dress. It's been this way ever since he came home.

Her and Tom had grown up living opposite each other on the same street. He'd teased her mercilessly, as boys will do to girls, but they'd always been friends. She'd felt sick with worry when he'd joined the navy, and her heart had broken when his father, Douglas, had told her he'd been reported as MIA in Dunkirk.

The day he'd returned to Castlefield had felt like a dream. He'd ducked in through the open back door while she was in the kitchen making tea and she'd dropped the teapot in shock when she caught sight of him. It had shattered upon the tiled floor, but it didn't seem to matter, not when he stood there with that lopsided smirk of his plastered across his gorgeous face.

Wordlessly they'd closed the gap, kissing each other hungrily, silent outpourings of I missed you expressed with every tender touch and caress.

From that point onwards they had seized every opportunity to be together. On the nights that her dad was on late shifts at the factory, she'd leave the lamp on for Tom in her bedroom window, a signal that it was safe for him to come up; her mum had always been a sound sleeper. In turn, she'd go to his house whenever Douglas and Lois weren't home.

She understood the need for privacy. Tom shared a room with his sister and she still lived with her parents, none of whom would appreciate them fornicating under the same roof. However, as the months had slipped by, it occurred to her that she and Tom had never actually been on a proper date, let alone been seen in public together.

"You know, Tommy," She says, as she finishes buttoning her blouse. "There's a dance at the Wharf on Saturday, to celebrate the rest of the troops coming home."

"Yeah, I saw," He replies, rubbing his brow and taking another drag of his cigarette. "My old man brought a leaflet home from his rounds the other day."

"Thought it might be nice if we went together?" She offers with a bright smile.

Tom's eyebrows raise as his eyes widen, and he exhales smoke through his nose. "Oh, I dunno about that, love. Probably not a good idea."

She feels her heart lurch and quickly looks away, not wanting him to see how badly his words have affected her. "Right. Well, I'll see you around."

She rises from the bed, walking towards the door, and he calls after her.

"Oi! No goodbye kiss then?"

Her hand pauses on the doorknob and she responds without turning to look back at him. "Probably not a good idea."

Once safely back in her own room, she swipes angrily at the tears she’s been fighting to hold back since she left Tom’s room.

They’d never established what their relationship was, the transition from friends to more than that had happened too suddenly for such a discussion to ever occur, but it hurt to know she was nothing more than an easy fuck to him. She’d known him all her life, so it wasn’t unreasonable for her to assume she meant something to him. But with a simple refusal of her offer to go to the dance together he’d proven she didn’t, perhaps she never had.

She wonders if it’s a case of him being ashamed to be seen with her, or that he simply doesn’t care for her enough to entertain her company outside of the bedroom. She isn’t sure which upsets her more, thinking about either causes a dull throb in her chest and a lump in her throat.

Pushing the thoughts away, she readies herself for her evening shift at The Oxnoble. The pub is surprisingly busy for a Wednesday evening when she arrives, but it’s been that way most evenings since the war ended, the mood is jubilant. She wishes she shared the sentiment. 

She deposits her coat and bag in the back room before moving between tables to collect the empties. After an hour or so of pulling pints and chatting to punters, she finds her spirits lifting. Work serves as a welcome distraction to thinking about Tom Bennett.

“Was wondering when you’d finally crack a smile.”

She looks up as she closes the till to see Joe Broughton leaning over the bar, his soft brown eyes focused on her.

“Sorry, my mind’s been elsewhere this evening.” She says apologetically. “What can I get you?”

He holds up his half finished lager. “I’m alright, actually. Just wanted to say hello. You going to the Wharf on Saturday?”

The smile fades from her face. “No, giving that a miss.”

Joe frowns. “Why? Ted won’t let you have the night off?”

She shakes her head. “No one to go with.”

“Go with me!” He says a little too enthusiastically, his face flushing with embarrassment when he realises how eager he sounds. “I mean…if you want to, that is. Seems a shame for a pretty girl like you to miss out.”

She’s not surprised by Joe’s offer. She has always suspected he’s sweet on her, but until now has been too wrapped up in Tom to pay any mind to him. Tom’s no longer in the picture though. Joe’s kind hearted, tall, dark and handsome, and clearly has no qualms about them being seen together. He is everything Tom’s not. She'd be foolish to turn him down, so she doesn’t.

“I’d love to.” She tells him.

Joe beams with happiness, draining his glass and sliding the empty across to her. “See you on Saturday then.” He grins. “Pick you up at seven?”

She nods, collecting his glass and returning his wave as he pushes through the crowd and out through the pub door.

When she gets home that night her mum is already asleep, and her dad’s at the factory working the late shift. Automatically, her hand moves to the lamp to switch it on and she has to stop herself. She deflates when she realises what she’s about to do, sinking heavily onto the edge of the bed. There’d be no more secret signals for Tom to climb in through the window, not anymore.

The next few days pass quietly, though she has to make a conscious effort not to think of Tom. She does her best not to look through the window to watch for when Lois and Douglas leave. That would usually be when she’d slip across the road and knock at the front door, giggling as he opens it and leans against the doorframe with a smirk. His blue eyes would rake over her, before beckoning her inside. Not anymore. She doesn’t see Tom at all, and her lamp stays firmly off for the rest of the week too.

She stands in front of the full length mirror in the hallway on Saturday evening, taking in her appearance. She’s applied a layer of rouge to her lips, carefully curled her lashes and set her hair into a style that doesn’t disrupt the work of the rollers that she’s been wearing for most of the day. Her blush pink dress accentuates her curves, nipping in at the waist, with an a-line skirt that stops at her mid thigh. The red of her heels matches the colour of her lips.

As she smooths her hands over her outfit, she can’t help but wonder what Tom would make of it. She has to remind herself that it’s another man that will appreciate the effort she’s made for this evening, and not him. She hates the way her heart sinks at the thought.

Joe’s eyes widen when he takes in the sight of her as she opens the door to him. “You look…wow…you look fantastic.”

She grins, grabbing her coat and stepping out onto the street beside him. “You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.” She says appreciatively, noticing his slicked back hair and starched shirt collar. 

The dance hall at the Wharf is packed by the time they arrive. Red, white and blue bunting hangs from the ceiling and a live band is in the middle of a Glenn Miller cover, with most people already paired off and dancing. Joe gets them both a drink, before leading her out to the centre of the floor.

As Joe spins and twirls her she can’t help but think about how wrong it all feels. The sensation of her hand in his, his palm at the dip of her waist, it’s so different to the way Tom touches her. Her skin doesn’t tingle in the wake of Joe’s fingertips brushing against it, her heart doesn’t flutter when she looks into his eyes. When he pulls her close his scent is unfamiliar, not the heady mixture of tobacco and spearmint that she’s come to know, to love.

Her breath hitches when she looks over and sees Tom through the crowd. The intensity of his stare is palpable even in the dimly lit hall, and fixed upon her and Joe. She doesn’t miss the way his jaw ticks as he looks at them. He’s made no effort, wearing the same jumper and slacks he always has on, yet still managing to look effortlessly handsome. It irritates her. She wonders who he’s here with and has to force herself to look away, not wanting to know, grimacing at the jealousy that blooms hot and acrid within her.

Focusing her attention back on the man she’s here with, she gazes up at him as the band switches to an instrumental cover of a Vera Lynn song. The atmosphere shifts considerably as the couples around them begin to slow dance.

Panic races through her, her mouth running dry and her heart thundering wildly as Joe starts to lean in. For a moment she is tempted to give in, a bid to forget about Tom once and for all, but at the last moment she decides she can’t. She doesn’t want to. She turns her head and Joe’s lips graze her cheek instead. As her eyes flicker upwards she notices that Tom has gone.

“Joe…do you think you could take me home? I’m not feeling well.” She says, not missing the disappointment that washes over his features.

The walk home is awkwardly silent and she’d feel bad for giving Joe false hope were it not for the fact that she can’t stop thinking about Tom, who he’s with and what he’s doing.

Her curiosity is sated when they reach her front door and she sees Tom burst out of his, moving across the road towards them with purpose.

It happens too quickly for her to comprehend fully, as Tom’s fist makes brutal impact with Joe’s face, knocking him backwards. “You kissed her! You fucking kissed her!” He shouts at him, and she feels fury well up inside of her.

Stepping between them, she shoves Tom away. ��Stop it!”

“Why?!” He spits back angrily. “You shagging him too?!”

Her eyes well up as Tom’s words bite into her. She spares a glance at Joe, before speaking to him. “Would you mind leaving us, please? I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother.” He says stiffly, glaring at the pair of them before stalking off back down the street.

When she looks back at Tom, he appears sheepish, almost regretful, but she can’t find it in herself to forgive him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was out of order…”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” She shouts back, her tears finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks. “You had no right to do that. I’m not yours, I never was!”

His face softens, hurt flashing in his blue eyes, as he tries to speak. “Listen-”

“No, you listen!” She seethes tearfully. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be in love with someone that’s ashamed of you?! I can’t keep wasting my life, hoping one day I’ll be more than just a means for you to get your leg over. I don’t want to see you anymore, Tom. Leave me alone.”

She leaves him standing in the street as she goes inside, slamming the door behind her. She’s grateful that her parents aren’t home yet, otherwise she’d have copped an earful for the scene she’s just made in the middle of the road. Crying herself to sleep that night she curses her luck that she has to live opposite the man that’s broken her heart.

Her shift the next evening at The Oxnoble is quiet, most people have clearly opted for a night in after the dance the previous day. She’s grateful for it, feeling the furthest thing from being in the mood to smile at customers while she serves them drinks. She’s the only person behind the bar. The landlord, Ted, has taken advantage of the opportunity for a night off and left her with the keys, asking her to lock up come closing time. Save for a couple of older gentlemen nursing pints of bitter in the corner, the pub is empty.

She’s switching out the optic on a gin bottle when she hears the door swing open. Looking over her shoulder, she sighs, her mood instantly darkening when she sees Tom stroll in.

Propping himself on the bar, he eyes her nervously as she finishes what she’s doing and walks over to him.

“What d’you want?” She asks moodily.

“Need to speak to ya.” Comes his quiet response, long fingers flexing against the wooden surface.

“I’m working.”

“Can’t take a break?”

“Ted’s left me in charge. If you’re not here to drink then you need to leave.”

“Alright then.” He says with a shrug. “Pint of Guinness, please.”

She narrows her eyes in annoyance. “Tom, you don’t like Guinness, and it takes bloody ages to pour!”

“I know. Figured you’d spare me a few words while I wait.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a pint glass from the shelf above her head and placing it beneath the pump.

“Went to see Joe today, wanted to apologise and that, ya know, for smacking him…”

She looks up from the dark liquid that’s currently filling the glass. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s got a right shiner.” He says with a grin. It disappears as quickly as it appears when he sees the angry look on her face. “Anyway, he told me nothing happened between you two. I know you said you never wanted to speak to me again, but I was hoping you’d hear me out, just this once?”

She purses her lips, topping off his pint as it settles and passing it to him. “Told you, I’m working.”

“I can wait.” He says, sliding coins across the bar to her and taking the glass.

She has to bite back a laugh as she watches him take a sip and wrinkle his nose. “Tastes like blood.” He mutters to himself, wandering off and taking a seat at a table directly opposite the bar.

Tom has never been a man of patience and she fully expects him to get bored after an hour and leave. She’s surprised when he continues to sit there, periodically lighting up cigarettes and wincing at every sip of the stout he’s nursing.

Three hours later she rings the bell for last orders and the few customers that had occupied the pub slowly shuffle their way out, leaving her and Tom alone. He’s only half way through his drink, having spent the entire evening pulling a face at every tiny mouthful.

She takes pity on him, bolting the doors and then leaning against the billiards table. “Go on then, I’m listening.”

He rises from his seat, walking slowly towards her, almost like he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly she’ll change her mind.

“Did you mean what you said? You’re in love with me?”

She feels heat rush to her cheeks and looks away. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? You don’t feel the same way.”

“Are you fucking joking?” He says, a tinge of irritation in his tone. “Would I have just sat for four hours choking down a pint of that shit, waiting for you to give me the time of day, if I wasn’t crazy about you? Give your head a wobble!”

She attempts to swallow around the lump that’s forming in her throat, her voice strained as she speaks. “We only meet up in secret and when I asked about the dance you said no. It feels like-”

“I’m ashamed of you?” He stands in front of her, brushing her hair away from her face. “Never. You mean everything to me. Thinking about coming home to you was all that got me through when I was laying in that hospital bed in Paris. Couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing that you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then why?” Her voice cracks, her eyes are glassy as she stares up at him.

Tom draws in a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve never been worthy of you, love. I might have come back from France a hero, but what about when all that dies down and I go back to just being Tom Bennett, the lad that’s always in trouble with the coppers? What will people say about you, if they know I’m your fella? You don’t deserve that.”

“Shouldn’t that be for me to decide?”

“I know that now.” He says, leaning his forehead against hers “Last night, I knocked to ask you to go to the dance with me and when no one answered I figured you’d already be there. Wasn’t expecting to see you there with Joe and it pissed me off. I know that’s selfish, but you’re mine.”

He presses his lips to hers and she melts into it, her resolve crumbling with embarrassing rapidity as her mouth moves with his. Her fingers work their way into the softness of his dirty blonde hair as his tongue slips into her mouth, working against her own as his large hands cup her face.

“Mine.” He whispers as he pulls away, making her gasp as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck. “Does Joe make you feel this good?” He asks, working open the buttons of her blouse, slipping a hand inside to squeeze at her through her brassiere.

“No.” She whines. “Just you, Tommy, just you.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks, lifting her by the backs of legs to sit on the billiards table.

He captures her lips in another searing kiss, pushing her skirt up to her hips.

“N-not here, we can’t.” She whimpers, pulling back.

“Door’s locked, isn’t it?” He coos at her, pulling the gusset of her underwear to the side. “Christ, you’re soaking. Is all this for me?”

She bites her lip, feeling dizzy with arousal. “Yeah, just you.”

“You gonna let me have a taste?” His eyes lock with hers, the blue barely visible with how dilated his pupils are.

Before she has a chance to respond, he’s dropped to his knees in front of her, licking a wide stripe against her folds with the flat of his tongue.

She emits a strangled cry, her hands flying to the back of his head as he groans against her, the vibration of it causing her to clench around nothing.

“Sweetest little pussy I’ve ever had.” He whispers between kitten licks to her bud.

She bucks her hips against his face as he feasts upon her like a man starved, the cadence of her moans growing unsteady as a familiar tightness coils within her lower belly.

“You close, darlin’?” He smirks up at her.

She’s only able to respond with a nod of her head, too far gone to trust herself to speak.

“That’s too bad.” He says, pulling away. “Wanna be buried inside of ya when that happens.”

She feels like she could cry at the loss, and her fingers fumble in their hurry to get Tom’s belt and trousers open, as he works to open the wrapper of a sheath that he’s fished out of his pocket.

Tom’s jaw goes slack, his eyes screwing shut as he pushes inside of her and she swears he’s never looked more beautiful than he does right now. He stills against her once he’s bottomed out, composing himself.

“So fuckin’ tight. Whose are you?” He rasps against the shell of her ear.

“Yours.” She breathes, without hesitation.

“That’s fuckin’ right.” He snarls, grasping her hips and setting a punishing pace.

She leans back, bracing herself against the table with the palms of her hands. The green felt is coarse against her skin, and she knows she’ll have friction burn from it, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

The hold he has on her is iron clad, pulling her flush against him with every jerk of his pelvis, his face buried in the crook of her neck as his belt buckle knocks against the wood with every thrust. This forceful, commanding side of him is one she’s never seen before, but she loves every second.

The slap of Tom’s skin against hers echoes through the empty pub, his grunts of exertion mingling with her breathy moans. His hand leaves her hip to palm at her breast and she can tell he’s nearing his end when as he pace begins to falter, his jaw clenching.

“Play with yourself.” He grits out. “Need you to finish with me.”

Doing as she’s told, she places her hand between her legs, circling her pearl. The added sensation serves to intensify Tom’s movements inside of her and after a few hurried strokes she finds herself tensing around him as her climax builds.

“Oh, fuck, Tommy, I’m gonna-”

Her sentence is cut off as her peak crashes over her in white hot waves of intensity, barely registering it as Tom lets go with a groan, spilling inside of the condom.

They stay like that for a few moments, leaning heavily against each other. When he eventually pulls out, and they begin to redress, there’s a part of her that worries that this is the part where he’ll make an excuse and leave, and it’ll go back to how it’s always been.

He surprises her when he begins to move around the pub, collecting up the empty glasses.

“What else needs doing before I walk you home?” He asks.

She can’t help the warm smile that spreads across her face at the gesture. “Just the ash trays.” Comes her response.

His fingers interlock with hers as they walk home in comfortable silence, the darkness lit by the cherry red ember of the end of Tom’s cigarette.

“Leave the lamp on for you tomorrow?” She says softly, once they reach her front door.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Tomorrow I’m knocking the door and taking you on a proper date.”

She grins. “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah. Bag of chips and a bottle of pop, only the best for my girl.” He says with a wink, beginning to head off across the street.

“Oi!” She calls after him. “No kiss goodbye then?”

He chuckles, hurrying back to her and spinning her around in his arms as he kisses her, before setting her back down.

“I love you.” She whispers.

“And I love you, always have.” He tells her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

[grimy-cat]

Hello! Here is my request! Can you do a Sunny x ghost reader[btw I have seen your Wattpad lol]

oh jesus i cringe everytime i re read it anyway here u go

Sunny w/ a ghost!reader HCs

TW: Death, ‘Suicide’, Trauma, angst lmao

(Since you mentioned my wattpad, I’ll make it based off the dead reader one..god help me i love angst)

Similar to HellMari, you as a ghost would scare the absolute hell out of him.

(Minus the exaggerations Sunny’s mind would play on him)

He loved you and he killed you.

His sister doesn’t look at him the same anymore. She knows the truth yet she’s quiet about it.

She wants to protect the friend group from having their hearts more broken than they already are, she wants to protect her brother.

Basil is aware too. He treats Sunny like fragile glass like one wrong word, one wrong move, will cause him to shatter into unfixable pieces

He doesn’t want to go outside and face the friend group after what he did, he wants to stay in his fantasy world, where everything is okay.

Where you’re alive, when everyone’s mental state is before you “killed” yourself.

Mari doesn’t let him though, she doesn’t want him to destroy himself from the inside out.

Every night if he’s not in that dreamworld, he’s being plagued by nightmares of you.

Hallucinations follow him around like pests, whenever he looks into the bathroom mirror..

He sees you behind him with a deformed neck and a horrifying look.

So he’s not sure if you’re one of those hallucinations or you’re actually there, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

The fear and guilt that’s he struck with when he looks down at you from the top of the stairs is unbearable. His mind instantly brings him back to when it happened.

The fear almost renders him immobile, almost. He ran back to his room and hid under the covers, trying to get back to his dream world and the hallucination will be gone in the morning.

But it doesn’t go away, because it’s not an hallucination. It’s you.

Not in flesh and blood but with translucent skin, a ghost.

It takes him a while before he can actually approach you at night.

Even then, he can’t look at you in the eye.

The last time he did was when you were swaying in the wind with your feet hovering over the ground.

Eventually you tell him that you’re only here because of unfinished business.

His mind races and he thinks about what you could mean about “unfinished business”.

It’s been four years since Sunny killed you and all of a sudden you show up? Just now?

“Sunny, I’ve seen you suffer for so long because of what you did. Even though you murdered me, I just wanted to let you know that I forgive you.”

“Find the strength to forgive yourself like I’ve forgiven you, and move on with your life. It’ll be difficult, but I believe in you Sunny. You’ll always be my friend.

And with that, you disappeared.

That was your unfinished business.

To comfort Sunny, a selfish boy that had murdered you.

You were always kind and perfect compared to him, a selfish murderer who can’t even look his friends in the eye. Your friends.

But you believe in him. After four years, he finally starts to forgive himself.

He found the strength to forgive himself.

He found the strength to save Basil.

Sunny found the strength to come clean about your death.

Your murder.

[carmenized-onions]

HEY LOVELY!!!! Now this, THIS, was worth every day i waited. IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING. Everything i dreamed it to be and more.

Tony and Mikey scenes? HEARTBREAKING. Every moment they have together, no matter sad or happy, is slowly chipping away at my soul.

Carmen getting a therapist? Genius. Don't know why the writers haven't given him one, boy does he need it.

Syd and Richie making sure Tony is taken care of by sorting Carmen out before he see's her again? Everything. I need them as friends, right now. NOW.

(still pissed at Carmen, though.)

The way you write characters reactions to grief is, like, stunning. STUNNING.

ALSO, as someone with a brother who struggles with drugs, seeing Mikey being portrayed as a nice person with loving friendships is really amazing to see. (the fact i have another brother called Mikey too, freaky? probably not. BUT IM A DRAMATIC PERSON OKAY?)

Anyway, i am genuinely in love with this series. You should be so incredibly proud of your self. Would i be able to get onto the tag list?

He congratulates you.

the absolutely shattered render quality of this image really fucking makes it. packing update: I've just got the desk and closet left! and also my billion plants.... i really don't want to think about the plants...

SO GLAD it was worth the wait, I hope chapter 14 also is. I'm not the most happy with the ending scenes right now... Happier than I was yesterday... but maybe I just need to stop looking at it, honestly. I'm transforming into S3 Carmen changing that menu every 5 fucking minutes AH.

CHIPPING away you say? not funny. I'd had these scenes in my head for a minute, but I was so worried about being off-base with Mikey's character because all I had to go off of was Fishes, so thank you God for Napkins I would've been so fucked.

SPEAKING OF S3, I know,,, it makes sense that he doesn't have one I mean he hesitated so much to just go to al-anon but even fucking al-anon in S3 he's reverted to just not fuckin' talking which SUCKS !! DON'T SUBTRACT !! PLEASE STOP SUBTRACTING IM BEGGIN YOU!!

I love Syd and Richie and the way they combine forces when it comes to their Shared Work Wife. I think what's so fun about it is that without this being for Chip, Syd wouldn't be so direct, and Richie would be so much fucking meaner, but because it's for her, they actually make an effort to sort Carmen the fuck out. And also beat his ass. two things can be true.

And THANK YOU I write a fuck ton of grief poetry and I think I just went to like. a lot of funerals as a kid. an unexpected consequence of having a kid a lot later than everyone else. It's in my bones. but like in a fun way.

Also, when I read this for the first time, I remember being SO confused because I was like. "There was another option?" And forgot that people fucking suck and see people struggling or in recovery as something that is other. Fucking ew. I never had any intention of portraying Mikey other than the really fucking good brother he is, who also just so happens to be struggling. Don't applaud a fish for swimming! People are people and they should be written as fuckin' people!!!! But I am glad my portrayal was appreciated none the less. YOU'RE NOT DRAMATIC!!

Of COURSE you can be added!! Though I will say, sometimes it doesn't always work when I tag people. So I am. sorry. I think it's something in tumblr settings? Gotta set your shit public or taggable or something? regardless. i'll fuckin put your name in there for sure!! thank you for your thoughts m'love!!

back to packing.... desk or closet desk or closet.... flipped a coin i got desk mannnn... wish me luck!! do i have anything from chapter 14 i can give you?

is this spoilery? c'est la vie, take it. kisses kisses see you in ideally less than an hour when i finish desk packing.

[maguro13-2]

Shattered Hero ~ Origins of the Ink Demons: Episode Maka Pt.4 ~

*images flashing*

Usagi : (wakes up and is covered in sweat) Oh man! Not another dream. This is pretty weird after all my friends were being used as science experiments that have been a laboratory...Hey, where am I? What is this place and what I am doing here naked?

Hotaru : You are awake, Sailor Moon.

Usagi : Hotaru Tomoe. What's going on? Don't tell me you've been awake and naked as well I see.

Hotaru : You've been asleep for a long time. I had to wake you up after your friends and mine were attacked and abuse by the corruption of my father for his selfish ways.

Usagi : Professor Tomoe, your dad. What happened to him?

Hotaru : Haven't you figured it out yet, I had to wake you up after that tremendous incident in which took place about over a year.

Usagi : Like I was in some kind of coma? I don't know what's gonna happen to my world after all things bad happened in the 90s. Say, we stool look in 90s, right? Hotaru, tell me.

Hotaru : This is not the 20th century anymore. This is the 21st Century.

Usagi : 21st Century? Wait a sec, where's mom? Where are my friends and where's our--

Hotaru : Your friends are safe and so does mine, they were saved from the clutches of my father all thanks to the boys due to the marriage between Naoko and Togashi. Kaolinite was out of the question. They have been reclaimed by the detectives. Here's how it happened, after the rest of Sailor Scouts were caputred and stripped bare skin in those cultivated tanks, my father and other scientists tried to conquer Japan and the galaxy for doing selfish things in order to cover the world in darkness for Dark Nebula. But thankfully due to Naoko and Togashi's marriage, my father was finally stopped by us and that spirit detective we helped, and was exposed to the public for calling him a "heartless" traitor for what he did to our group and the people of Japan would never forgive him. When the Spirit Detective and Grim Reaper Botan scolds him for what he did to the Sailor Scouts, Hiei, the young man with the Jagan eye, executed him and we had to hide ourselves from the public and went into the shadows in order to restore our lives.

Usagi : So we've been here for over a year? So what on earth did we exactly end up here? Where's the rest of the Sailor Senshi?

Hotaru : Come, there in that room. They're waiting for you to meet them.

(scene later cuts)

Usagi : So, we're good being completely naked without our clothes on. So what did you agree with being at here sleeping for over a year by that?

Hotaru : You'll cleverly find out that it's a secret.

Usagi : So any news on what's going on? So what are we in here for? So I guess it's a secret okay.

(Hatch door opens automatically)

Usagi : Hey, isn't that...? (sees the sailor scouts completely naked while wearing hi-tech shades to look at a computerized orb full of light) I see. Hey, guys long time no see.

Minako : Oi, Usagi. You finally made it, just in the nick of time to be awake.

Usagi : Yeah, but it's been way over a year to be awake. So where is home, exactly?

Minako : What are you talking about, Usagi? This is our home, our secret home. This is the new home base that takes place on the moon.

Usagi : Say WHAAAAAAT?

[DUN! DUN! DUUUUUUUUUN!]

Usagi : Hotaru! Why did you take us to the Earth's moon!? We're currently in space! How can we survive on the moon!? There's no oxygen outside! More importantly, we can't even breathe outside in space! And did you say this is the new base?

Makoto : Sure! This is the New Sailor Senshi hedquarters! An organization led by the councils of Celestial 9.

Usagi : Celestial 9. What an interesting name for a group of people that organize the line of 9 gods from earth. What a shocking coincidence, but I think not. I think I might be going back to civilization to earth and...(turns and sees Luna in front of her) What in the actual what? Who's this lady?

[Theme of Koco - Tomoya Ohtani]

Luna : I am Luna, one of the rulers of Earth's moon and observe the entire planet earth from here on the moon.

Usagi : Rulers of Earth's moon. Where's that from, Astrologists? So being naked up here is where...

Minako : Yep. This entire place built on the moon was created by Drawcia Family Corporation since a huge amount of energy has hit the entire moon in half, so the rulers of the moon decides to restore it after a green guy and that Space Colony.

Usagi : You mean those two that destroyed the old Sailor Senshi headquaters? But the colony blasted on the moon! Why would some genius manage to use a cannon from the space colony on the moon instead of the earth?

Luna : Our headquaters on the moon was destroyed by one man that did it in that incident 5 years ago.

Rei : That was the old Sailor Senshi Hedquaters that was operated on the moon over a year until the colony's energy blast cannon destroyed when he attempted to fire it at earth. It was not until the Black Arms invasion a year ago, there were many reports that the girl named Maka Albarn was falsely accused on attacking the American public and the city of Tokyo since she wiped out 80% of Japan's population.

Hotaru : Correct. And after the second explosion occured in tokyo caused by recruited detective, Kimial Diehl. [To Usagi] I believe you might wanna put these on.

Usagi : Oh, like this. (puts on the hi-tech shades to show information from the computerized orb) Woah...this is...awesome! The orb that resembles the light, it's hi-tech supercomputer. This is all the information from various incidents and multiple reports from around the world. Near the end of the 20th century, a girl named Lain Iwakura, protag of that smash hit psyhchological sci-fi horror show Serial Experiments Lain, has beginning to link into information that knows about the world, and I was never a fan of cyberpunk or science-fiction. That's what we needed in the 20th century, but now it's in the 21st century since she was saved by a random Gundam pilot whom she saved his life, Duo Maxwell, the pilot of the dominant Gundam robot Deathscythe.

Setsuna Meioh : True. Enemy intrusion from all over the globe that there are multiple threats from the forces of True evil itself.

Haruka : The Defense Line is okay for sure, but the offensive line over the sectors are really kicking it up a notch.

Michiru : Sounds kinda cool since Professor Tomoe was executed to the public. After all, you did saved your life and saved our lives as well.

Haruka : I know it's kinda messed up of why did Professor Tomoe wanted to use us for corruption in an exchange for conquering the Galaxy in darkness.

Hotaru : Because he was one of the leeches that showed his true colors, I will never forgive him for what he has done to you all.

Michiru : Maybe you're right about this. Guess he really made the steep price to pay.

Haruka : So will you ever forgive me about turning to the dark side and tried to conquer the planet in darkness?

Usagi : I've known Yusuke Urameshi a long time since we worked together to save my friends from the corruption of Hotaru's dad. But that's okay, we forgive you. I kinda miss mom a lot ever since she noticed about Professor Tomoe's execution. I heard about what happened to the YYH crew. Togashi and Naoko's marriage had long existed since we first appeared in the 90s. My catchphrase was "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you" That's what I always said about being a superhero but despite being a magical girl, my superhero catchphrases always gets it when it comes to Superheroes.

Minako : That's what we are today. So after Professor Tomoe's execution, we Sailor Scouts got depressed and we had no choice but to hide from the public except for you. Humanity has never been so arrogant, so does our archenemies as well. I've always once been Sailor V for a period of time before I joined you guys! I was the coolest superhero in all of Japan. But some villains are men who assaults women and hurt them, including superheroes like us. That's why we superheroes must stay away from bad things, men wanted to rape Magical Girls or some have sexual desires to harm them in the way of corruption. Humans can be heartless too, you know.

Usagi : I understand. That's why we gotta stick together as a group as what it takes for us to be heroes to keep ourselves out of the shadows.

*BEEPING*

[Reunion - Kenichi Tokoi]

Hotaru : Incoming enemy intrusion from earth! The giant heartless know as Darkside is on a rampage at the city of Tokyo! We must be prepared for battle! Come on, Usagi! You're leader of our team! You gotta do something!

Usagi : Hmmm...You got it! (thumbs up) You got yourself a deal! Alright Sailor Scouts let's head to Tokyo! Because the Sailor Scouts have returned! Let's become superheroes again!

(cues Sailor Moon Transformation)

Sailor Moon : I am back from the shadows, motherf***ers! Sailor Moon has finally arrived! Let's go kill us some heartless!

"Song Goku, We sailor Scouts are back in business!"

~ Act 3 : The Sailor Senshi Returns! ~

[smoosnoom]

hello moonie :] i listened to the songs u gave me and !

i really really luved 'how soon is now?' by the smiths and i definitely need to listen to them more !!! im so obsessed w how he sings certain lyrics it sounds So nice (literally listneing to the song rn as i type lol)

u were right abt me enjoying 'crybaby' by destroy boys a lot as i already know that song and its one of the 2 or 3 songs i know from them lol . its really really good

i Immediately added 'saturnine' to my main playlist once it was over !! the chorus is So nice to listen to i really luved it !

i had forgotten u said u were going for the vibe of floating in the ocean and when listening to 'andromeda' i literally thought 'this song feels like floating down a river or something' . the way she sings 'let me in if i break / and be quiet if i shatter' was So. gah . its good.

as for my recommendations:

summertime - my chemical romance

heaven, iowa - fall out boy

unpunishable - ethel cain (the chorus of this song is Everything)

so far so fake - pierce the veil (1:30-on, but especially 2:25-~3:00 is Beautiful. i . luv guitars .)

and bonus song because its all that stuck in my head currently : bury me in black (demo) - my chemical romance . very different from the other ones lol .

ok that is all i think :> i hope your week is good and not stressful and that any writing block u may have is broken <33 also do not worry about answering this quickly i am So ok w patiently waiting until ur able to answer please do not feel bad if it takes a while ok byebye ily

yes omg ok i am such a fan of the smiths . which is probably my biggest red flag LOL but i cant help it !!!! theyre so good !!!!! and i think half of it is just how morrisey sings some certain words . he is such an asshole but Damn it if he doesnt make his songs unique .

i think u already knowing and liking the song is so crazy but also . i am kind of proud of myself for guessing right on ur taste :D

im honored !!!! and yes i have a whole playlist about just . songs that feel like floating around on some mystical beach, its based on this freaky dream i had but . if u ever want it ...

ohhh i should say . i am in fact an mcr and fob fan LOL . i have already listened to both those songs, summertime is sososoooo good but so is the entire album, and ive been loving the new fob album :D i think my personal favorite is maybe . well ok i have three LOL "love from the other side", "heartbreak feels so good", and "i am my own muse" ofc . i feel like i picked the most popular ones 😭 theyll probably change ! also . completely unrelated omg but ive been . kind of . crushing on a specific white man ok and specifically ethan hawke and then imagine my surprise when i see him on the album ??:W?? what the hell was that . what the he lll . anyway .

ok i listened to unpunishable and i love love loveeeeed the section after 3:30-ish . like it was soo like . metallic sounding with her vocals and the ringing guitar and it was just so everything . it made me want to write something crazy so badly, it was amazing !!! ive only heard a few songs by her but this one is definitely top three for me i think . wow

i did have . a pierce the veil phase for like fiveseconds in middle school LOL but i enjoyed this one !!! i got flashbacks to 2018 but i really did enjoy it :D i think ill always like their sound, its always so . indulgent . i did really like the bit at 2:25-3:00, i didnt even realize u commented on it LOL i was like Wow . wow . it was so so good

oh i loveee bury me in black . that entire era will b so close to my heart forever i think and its just so . good . oh my god . the brash guitar and drums are soooo . i need them permanently playing forever and ever

ok sorry for giving u a whole essay 😭 i just had a lot to say i think LOL

but here are mine !!!!

if u liked how he sings certain lyrics then u would loveeee "a rush and push and the land is ours" by the smiths . the way he sings rush and push . oh boy

are u a fan of p!atd ? i think u would like them even tho i am brendon urie's biggest hater . but ryan ross ... loml . anyway . "new perspective" is so underrated and one of my favorites, very reminiscent of the 2000s pop punk scene !

also a more like . "weird" sounding song but its so so good . "girls & boys" by blur ! its one of their more popular songs but it holds up so so well

and . in honor of me purchasing a radiohead poster . i think u would love radiohead . i recommend . "just" . a popular song but i think u would absolutely enjoy it and My Bad if u have already heard it before . if u have i would not be surprised !!! i think it trended on tiktok for a second ? idk

anyway . thank u so much for being so so patient, it means everything to me :) i adore the songs u recommend me and i was kind of itching to answer this to get some more recs LOL . ok byebye ilyt !!!!!!

[psalm1151]

Dreamers Lament

Based on the story of Joseph. At present, a prisoner, future second in command to the King of Egypt.

(Genesis 37-50)

Boy dreamer. They spat the words out like poison when I was a child. Yet I stood by them, my dreams, speaking of them like God Himself had whispered the future in my ear, like a guaranteed vision of what's to come. I had stood my ground, believing they were truth itself. Nothing but hatred came out of it, my own brothers resented me with such vigor that I could cut the tension between us with a knife.

The prison smells like sweat and blood and dust and bile. I'm not sure how much of the scent was my own doing, and how much of it had been built up from generations past of criminals. Boy dreamer. look where that got me. To the bottoms of the deepest pits, stuck so far down there's no way of clawing myself back out. Maybe I was made for the bottom, made to be least. The youngest son, the slave, now the prisoner. Every time I fought and kicked and worked my way up, I found a way to crash back down.

I could have forgotten all about them, my dreams. could've woken up the next morning and pretended the visions that shook my very core and consumed my whole being at just the thought didn't exist. maybe I would've learned to live with it, the swelling hope in my chest, the desire that filled my very bones to leap in the air and make them come true right in that moment, the feeling of my lungs never holding enough breath for me, too full of anticipation to hold a megar thing like air. The feeling that my soul was too big for my body. Maybe it wouldn't have been so all consuming after a few days, months, years. Maybe it was better to be safe. Empty and regretful but safe. To have become a shepherd like my brothers, to never have amounted to much, but to be comfortable. Maybe I could have lived with the heartbreak of never fulfilling all that I could've been. Maybe it would've haunted me for the rest of my life, like a shadow hovering over my shoulder, whispering neverending condemnation in my ear of all I had given up. Maybe still it would've been easier to think I would have amounted to more than to know for a fact I can't.

Maybe my dreams meant nothing. Maybe I wasn't cut out for them, maybe I missed out on my chance to live them out. Maybe I hadn't become the person who gets to live out those dreams. Maybe my character didn't turn out to be the one you had in mind. There are people so much better than me out there, doing so much more, working so much harder. I'm nothing more than a naive child, with far more hope than I could have achieved anything with. I am nothing if not mediocre, a shepherd boy, a boy dreamer. Nothing more.

Maybe you hear me somewhere out there, o God of my ancestors. maybe my lament has reached your ears, my tears seen by your eyes. Even a single word, whisper, breath of my torture and torment heard by you could cause a move, a change, a shift.

So I will force myself to get up, force myself to keep going, force myself to cling onto whatever shattered pieces are left of me and my dreams. I will climb up this valley with my bare hands and claw my way through until I take my last breath and can truly fight no longer. Maybe I will spend my whole life climbing and falling, but you were with me as I climbed before, and maybe you will be here with me as I climb again. Maybe my dreams have not yet ceased.

[side-shawty]

Family Line

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: sequel

Prompt/Summary: Part two of the fic based on Saint Bernard by Lincoln. This one was inspired by Family Line by Conan Gray.

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x Steve Rogers, Stony x daughter!reader

Requested? Not even a little bit

PART ONE

The drive from the compound was silent. You’d left your Stark phone in your bedroom in exchange for the one you’d made yourself. But this one didn't have the playlist and songs you’d spent hours putting together and no the silence was deafening.

Racing down the empty upstate roads towards Manhattan was easy until a single raindrop on your windshield turned into an all-out storm. 

You had no idea where you would end up but you knew at that moment that anywhere would be better than where you were now. 

——

When you drove away, Red walked through the halls for several minutes before he found anyone. Once he found Tony, he almost walked in until he heard the yelling. It scared him enough to make him turn around and walk to your room instead. He nosed his way in and let the door shut softly behind him. 

He placed the package you had given him onto his bed right at the foot of your own and laid on top of it. It stayed there for almost two weeks. 

That was when your dads had gotten back from Germany, tearing through the compound with fervor once they realized neither of them had seen you since the day before your departure. 

——

Two Days Ago: Germany

“End of the line Rogers! Stand down, hand Barnes over, and let's go home!” Tony shouted to his husband, glaring at him.

“You know I can’t do that! He’s family!” Steve yelled back and Tony visibly flinched at his words. Tears stung at his eyes and a single one slipped before he let his faceplate shut.

“So was I,” Tony said and the two teams began to run at each other.

Tony and Steve went head to head, attacking with broken hearts and shattered dreams.

“Why are you doing this?!” Tony asked.

“It’s the only way,” Steve responded, taking a swing with his shield that Tony narrowly dodged.

Tony moved back and let a blast hit Cap’s shield, “It’s not and you know it. You always swing first! There are other ways.”

“Not this time,” Steve spoke and dodged as Tony threw a punch, catching his wrist and looking him in the eye as he held it between them.

Tony let his helmet retract into his suit to look into the blue eyes that he still loved so deeply. The two of them were frozen, just staring at one another nearly forgetting about all of the fighting happening around them. 

Tony spoke first, “If you’re going to leave me, at least let me say goodbye to my daughter.”

Another tear slipped down Tony’s cheek and it took everything in Steve not to drop his shield and wipe it away. When Tony’s words finally registered, Steve’s face became riddled with confusion.

“What?” Steve asked, brows furrowing together. “Y/N isn’t with me. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving,” he told the other man.

“Bullshit. I haven’t seen her since you packed up and ran away with your boy toy,” Tony argued, trying to hide how the hurt tore him in two.

This time, Steve did drop his shield along with Tony’s wrist. He moved both of his hands onto the cool metal of his shoulders and Tony averted his gaze.

“Tony. Look at me,” Steve pleaded.

Tony reluctantly looked back at the older man, there was both sincerity and fear in his eyes.

“Oh god, she’s really not with you,” Tony said softly and his heart plummeted as his blood ran cold. He suddenly remembered the last time he saw you, looking solemn as the two of you had pizza for dinner in silence. He knew something was wrong but he couldn’t risk fighting with both you and Steve at the time.

Tony put his helmet back on and spoke quickly, “Friday, what’s Y/N’s current location?” 

A map of the globe popped up in front of him and Friday scanned it quickly then beeped twice, “No location found for Y/N Stark-Rogers.”

Tony’s breathing began to quicken as his panic began to take over. Steve knew the signs and found the emergency release near his left ear. It scanned his fingerprint and the helmet retracted again.

“Friday can’t find her,” he said, almost breathless.

Tony tried to push Steve away as his knees gave way under him. The super soldier wouldn’t let him, taking a knee with his husband as he pushed Tony’s forehead against his own, placing one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder. 

Steve began to count softly and it wasn’t until the fifth round of tens that Tony was grounded enough to breathe again. He pushed Steve’s hands off of him and stood. 

“Thank you,” Tony said quietly and Steve only nodded before joining him on his feet.

It was then that they both realized that the fighting around them had stopped. Though there was a distinct line between the two groups, it was clear that they were all concerned for the two men.

Tony stepped forward first. 

“We’re going back. Rhodey, Romanoff, Vision, Kid get the jet,” Tony was right in front of them now. None of them moved as he stood in front of T’Challa.

Tony tried his best not to break down as he spoke. “King T’Challa, I know you’re here because you want to bring Barnes into custody but I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. My daughter has gone missing.” 

The tension in the air became fearful as he spoke. T’Challa let his helmet retract into his suit and placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders.

“I understand. But this will not be the end,” He let his hands drop and turned to look at Cap’s team, where Steve was now beside Bucky. “I won’t stop until he’s in Wakanda’s custody.” He looked back to Tony once more before continuing, “For now, I will help you find your daughter.”

Tony looked at him with grateful eyes, “Thank you.”

Steve took a hesitant step forward, “Tony—“

“Stop. I’m going back to the compound to find Y/N. You have your hands full with your fugitive,” Tony’s voice was cold as he spoke. He didn’t spare Steve a glance as the auto-piloted quintet touched down in front of them and Tony’s team entered before flying off.

Before the jet was even out of their sight, Steve fell to his knees and cried, having no idea Tony was doing the same just a few thousand feet over his head.

——

When Tony and his team arrived at the compound without Wakanda’s King, Steve and his were already there. Tony had made sure they didn’t have access and was glad to see it worked.

The man made no more to acknowledge them, just past by with his team in silence as he rushed into the compound's living area. 

“Y/N!” Tony yelled but was only greeted with silence. He glanced at the others, “Split up, see if you can find anything. I’ll check her room,” they all nodded and headed in different directions. 

Tony sprinted to your room, ignoring Steve’s presence as he followed him in. They were met with a very sad-looking Red on your bed, barely perking up at the sight of the two men. Tony knelt and opened his arms.

“Hey buddy,” the dog hopped off the bed without much grandeur and sat directly in front of Tony, head on his shoulder as his tail wagged weakly and he cried softly. Tony looked around the room and saw that his automatic feeding bowl was full and some of your things were gone. 

“Oh Red, buddy. Where’s Y/N? Is she home?” Tony questioned. 

Red barked and stood up, walking to his bed and picking up the package you have him so long ago. He brought it to Tony and the man took it, giving the dog a pat on the head and standing up.

He flipped it over and saw in your handwriting, ‘To Dad and Pops’ and it filled him with relief. This at least you left on your own accord and weren’t taken. 

Tony opened the package with shaking hands, still hyperaware of the super soldier at his side. It was your hero mask, there was a blinking red light indicating an awaiting message. 

Tony pressed it and they watched with desolate hearts as you told them you were leaving.

___

It had been three weeks since you left. You didn’t bring anything with you that could be tracked and had even swapped cars miles from where you ended up.

So when a knock came at your door of your apartment on the outskirts of Ontario, you armed yourself with the kitchen knife you were using to chop onions.

My father never talked a lot. 

He just took a walk around the block. 

You approached your door with all the silence of an assassin trained by Natasha Romanoff herself. When you were almost at the door a voice rang through it.

“Y/N? I know you’re in there,” they spoke and knocked once more before speaking again, “Open up, please.”

The tinge of pain in the words was breaking you as your grip loosened on the knife, almost dropping it. Your weight shifted a bit and one of the floorboards creaked under you.

You flinched at the sound.

“Y/N,” a different voice this time, “Honey, please.”

You could hear the tears like they had been at this for years and not weeks.

My mother never cried a lot.

She took the punches but she never fought.

Finally, you let yourself reach the door, swapping the knife to your left hand as you pressed your right against it, holding your weight. When you caught sight of the two men bruised and drained on the other side, it took everything in you not to open it and leap into their arms. 

But you held back. They couldn’t just show up after probably not even noticing your absence. So, you donned an accent and spoke in French.

I say, ‘They’re just the ones who gave me life.’

But I truly am my parent’s child.

“Pas de Y/N ici, tu t'es trompé d'appartement,” you spoke and you heard a deep sigh on the other side. (No Y/N here, you have the wrong apartment.)

“Êtes-vous sûr? Il y a un chien ici avec son nom sur l'étiquette,” Tony spoke in perfect French. It only made you want to cry again. 

(Are you sure? There's a dog here with her name on the tag.)

You clamped a hand over your mouth to hold back a sob that threatened to spill over. You cleared your throat before you spoke again, “Je suis sûr. J'espère que vous trouverez qui vous cherchez,” you turned your back on the door and moved to sit on the couch, placing the knife on the coffee table.

(I'm sure. Hope you find who you're looking for.)

“What now?” You heard Steve ask, quietly as you stared intently at the door. You heard Red give an enthusiastic bark and a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Now we be parents,” Tony replied and you heard a series of mechanical clicks.

Then silence.

Scattered ‘cross my family line.

I’m so good at telling lies.

And finally, a quiet ‘boom’ as your door handle was blown off in one clean circle.

You stared at the door as it began to creak open. Before either of your fathers could push it, Red came barreling through and straight onto you. You held him tightly and buried your face into his fur as he wiggled energetically in your arms.

“Hi Red,” you whispered into his warmth as you heard a pair of footsteps walk inside and attempt to shut the door.

You didn’t want to look at them but you couldn’t ignore them as they spoke.

“I could have just pushed it open, Tony,” your Pops spoke as they made their way further in.

“I took care of it, Rogers,” he replied, a chill to his words as they both sat on the opposite ends of the couch across from you.

That came from my mother’s side.

Told a million to survive.

They sat in silence as Red began to calm down and you were forced to look at them when he decided to lay on your lap.

You look to your Dad first, there was a healing bruise on his eye and his entire form was tense. Your Pop was about the same, sans bruise but looking uncharacteristically disheveled. 

You decided to speak first.

“How did you find me?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Your Dad clearly wanted to roll his eyes, “I’ve got 10 satellites in orbit, I could find a needle in a haystack.”

“Tony,” you Pops said as if warning him that he was becoming too harsh.

Tony sighed, “Why’d you leave?”

You actually did roll your eyes, “Maybe because my parents are getting a divorce and our house was turning into a civil war,” you could feel yourself getting worked up as you spoke, your powers beginning to bubble up to the surface. 

You took a deep breath and regrouped.

“Why didn’t you take Red?” Your Pops asked.

I can’t forget, I can’t forgive you.

‘Cause now I’m scared that everyone I love will leave me.

You looked down at the lovable pile of fur on your lap and gently stroked his head, “He’s too easy to track. I needed to be on my own for a while.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to us?” Tony’s voice was edging on desperation, he had moved up on the couch, now almost on the edge of his seat as he rested his elbows on his knees. 

“How could I?!” You spoke loudly as tears stung your eyes and your body began to shake as you tried desperately to hold yourself back. 

“When I tried to ask you,” you pointed at your Dad and the sudden made Red jump off of the couch in favor of sitting at your feet, “you’d just play it off like I was some little kid. And you,” you dropped your hand and looked sadly at your Pop, “you were ready to leave us the second you found out Bucky was alive.”

This time you couldn’t help it as the tears fell. You gave yourself a second of sadness before pushing yourself up and standing, wiping at your eyes. They stood with you.

“You’re still young Y/N/N. I didn’t want you involved in any of this,” Tony said, as his own tears shone in his eyes. 

You gave a dry laugh, “Please, I’ve been involved since the day I was born. I was a kid I wasn’t clueless!”

Both of your fathers flinched at that.

“All that I did I tried to undo it by pushing you both aside to help Bucky, and that wasn’t fair,” Steve began.

“Please, we did what we had to do to protect you,” He continued looking just as desperate as you felt. 

“Protect me from the two of you!? Do you know how insane that sounds!? All of my pain and all your excuses we’ve been hearing since the day he showed up aren’t going anywhere! You thought he was dead for decades!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care, they needed to hear it all. You could feel yourself begin to heat up from within as you fought your power down.

They were both inching closer to you now, less than an arm's length away on either side of you when they rounded the coffee table.

“We did it because we had to. Because we love you!” Tony tried but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Someone who loves me wouldn’t do this!” You cried, falling to your knees as your power came out in a shimmering wave, pushing your parents flat on their backs, making every lightbulb in the vicinity pop and shatter.

You were nothing but tired now, as you wept. Red, who had crawled beneath the couch had inched out at the sound go your cries. You hugged him against your chest as your parents sat up with a groan. 

They both came toward you and wrapped their arms around you. You only cried harder as they whispered apologies and let their own tears fall silently.

Everything was far from perfect, but it would be better.

I can run but I can’t hide.

From my family line.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Right Where You Left Me

Summary: Y/N never expected to see him again. He tore her heart out and left her in the dusty heat of a Las Vegas diner. She never wanted to see him again, but sometimes the heart wants what heart wants.

Word Count: 3.7k

Author's Note: This is the first prompt that I wrote for 400 followers and it is based on Right Where You Left Me. Some background info: Spencer and Reader (Female pronouns) were lovers when they were 23, Spencer left to join the FBI and Y/N never recovered.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Content Warning: Angst till the very end, one use of f--k, reader cuts her hand on glass so blood is mentioned.

Right Where You Left Me

2009, Enterprise Diner, Las Vegas, Nevada

The bell above the door always sounds the same, no matter who walks into the little diner. Whether it’s exhausted truckers looking for a cheap cup of coffee or lonely souls looking to be a little less lonely for even an hour, the bell’s chime is always the same.

From the first time she met Spencer Reid, Y/N knew that boy was destined for greatness. His greatness is exceptionally painful when it juxtaposes her intense ordinariness. Part of her always dreams of the bell ringing and telling her that he’s back. He’s back and would no longer just haunting her dreams. But he isn’t back. He isn’t back and she’s right where he left her.

Y/N wipes the counter with a worn napkin, noticing how her skin is cracked from her fingertips to the butt of her palms. The bell rings and Y/N picks up her head. An elderly couple walks in holding hands. It’s amazing to her, to be that old and that in love. She wonders what it would be like to have the kind of love that you’ll never run out of things to say. If her past has taught her anything, Y/N tells herself she’s not the kind of girl that gets a lifelong romance. She’s not the kind of girl that gets someone who gets her.

She’s the kind of girl that’s frozen in the place right where he left her.

September 2012, Enterprise Diner, Las Vegas, Nevada

“One of these is not like the other,” Sabrina says in a singsong kind of voice. She walks out from behind the counter, finished with her shift. She wishes Y/N good night before she leaves the diner, telling her to lock up and handle the clean up. The busboy makes his way to the table of men with two kinds of coffee, decaf and regular, in her hands. Y/N follows, rolling her eyes, behind with three coffee mugs.

Apparently, there is a missing child case and the FBI has gotten involved. The two men, dressed intimidatingly in black suits and gray ties, looked very different from the younger man who sat across from them. It only took her a second to recognize that face. It’s the face of all her dreams that at one point was just out of reach. But now it’s just the face of rejection and hurt.

Before she even realizes it, the coffee mug that Y/N holds in her hand drops and shatters on the floor. The men, even vigilant, turn towards the noise. Y/N wanting to disappear into the night, drops to the floor to clean up the glass. She hears a shuffle from the booth and in comes a pair of well-worn converse into her field of vision.

“Here,” he says, his voice just soft and steady as ever, “let me, Y/N,”

Y/N drops the glass like it burns her. But in reality, she’s trying to get as far away as possible from Spencer, because she knows if she touches him again, she’ll never be able to survive letting go.

Spencer.

Spencer Reid crouches down before her just inches from her face all these years later. It seems unbelievable to see him in the flesh, but it’s him, even if he looks a little older and a little sadder.

“Thank you. I’m going to get you a new cup. I remember how much you love coffee,” Y/N whispers, wishing again that she could turn into the wind and disappear.

Y/N tries to ignore the way Spencer’s co-workers eye him when he returns to the seat. Clutching the pieces of glass, Y/N cuts her thumb. The dark red blood rushes out and she can feel her pulse rise. She wraps a white cloth over the cut. By the time she gets to Spencer’s table, the blood has pooled to the surface. She places the cups on the table, turning to leave, but a strong, yet gentle hand grasps her elbow.

“You’re bleeding?” Spencer says, his voice ends on a high note like he’s asking her more than telling her.

“Yeah, it’s fine Spencer. I’ll take care of it later, it’s just-”

“Let me help you,” he says, the two men, his co-workers, share a thoughtful glance. Y/N has the sneaking suspicion that they can read her mind or very much close to it.

She narrows her eyes at Spencer as her thumb pulsates and the blood soaked napkin grows even more red.

“Last time I checked you’re not a real doctor,” Y/N says, the venom in her voice all too apparent. The man sitting across from Spencer with the kinder eyes puts his hands up in defeat.

“What the hell is going on here? Do you know her or something, Spencer?” he says, his confusion about who Y/N is growing into frustration by the second. The man sitting next to the man with the kind eyes doesn’t say much. Y/N expects that he’s soaking in the entire interaction or is too tired to care about his co-worker’s personal drama.

“Huh, you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell you FBI friends about me, Spencer? Huh, can I say that I’m not surprised by that at all,” Y/N responds, fumbling with managing to pour the coffee and covering her cut with the napkin.

“Please, Y/N you’re being ridiculous, let me help you,” Spencer asks or rather, begs Y/N. Y/N tries to not let him know how much it affects her when he rubs his thumb on the crook of her elbow.

“Fine, make it quick Spencer, I’m closing up tonight and I want to get home soon,” Y/N says, walking away from the table before Spencer can even get the chance to get up from the booth.

Y/N is too far past the booth to hear Spencer whisper to his co-workers that he’ll find his own way back to the hotel. She runs her thumb under the running water, watching as the blood clears up, revealing her clean finger. Y/N can feel Spencer’s looming presence behind her. She can smell his cologne and thinks if he cans any closer she’d be able to feel his body heat.

“You’re not supposed to be back here, Spencer,” Y/N says, she knows she’s being short and clippy with Spencer, but she supposes that should be expected, considering how he left her all those years ago.

“That never stopped me, or you for that matter before,” Spencer says, taking a step forward. His hand comes up to gently hold Y/N’s. She can feel his fingertips on her skin for the first time in years. Y/N has to close her eyes to focus on anything but how close Spencer’s body is to her’s. It’s restraint in it’s finest.

“Things have changed, Spencer. People have changed,” Y/N says, she doesn’t make a move that tells Spencer she doesn’t like him touching her. Spencer, whose hands have a slight tremor as they hold Y/N’s, practices an equal amount of restraint as Y/N does. He has to stop the thoughts of what it would be like to feel his hand against her hand again or how she’d sound if he could muster up the courage to kiss her again. He can’t even think of the first place he’d want to kiss her if he had the chance again.

“I’ve changed, Y/N, I’ve changed,” Spencer says, knowing fully that he’s pleading with the girl whose heart he broke 7 years ago.

“I have a hard time believing that one, Spencer. You were always the exception to the rule, whether you liked it or not,” she tells him. Her voice has lost all venom. It’s bare to the world without any weapons to wield.

“Let me fix you up and I’ll be out of your life again,” He says, still holding on to her wrist, still holding on to hope.

Y/N nods and tells him where he can find the first aid kit. She watches as he reaches up to the top shelf and carefully places the kit on the counter. Y/N holds out her hand as Spencer takes an alcohol wipe to her wound. He grimaces more than she does, afraid that somehow, all these years later, he’s still causing her pain. What he doesn’t know is that his touch stings more than the strongest rubbing alcohol in existence.

“So,” Spencer starts, hating that there’s silence between the two of them, when a decade ago that would have been impossible, “how’ve you been?”

“I’m good, Spence, I’ve been good. All I ever wanted was a quiet life, and I guess that’s what I got,” Y/N says, Spencer knows her answer is cordial. It's an answer that you give when you really don’t want to give an answer.

“That’s good, Y/N. I’m happy for you,” Spencer says, he doesn’t realize that he’s been rubbing his thumb against Y/N palm until she reaches into the first aid kit and tosses a band-aid at him. Spencer blushes slightly, but thinks that he’s not offending her too much since he’s still at the diner.

“What about you, Spence? Did you ever find uh….someone that could…” Y/N says, her voice trailing off, too afraid to finish the sentence herself, but aware that Spencer is probably the only person on Earth that could fill in the blanks. He was always good like that, he could always fill in her blanks and make sense of her senseless.

“Find someone, like a wife?” Spencer asks, the blush returning to his cheeks, “no, Y/N I’m not married. Are..are you? Do you have, um, a husband?” Spencer asks, hating the way that he stumbles over the word “husband” like it’s a dirty word. Though he supposes that it is a dirty word when Y/N’s husband is not synonymous with Spencer Reid.

“God no, Spence. I couldn’t not after, you know,” Y/N says, again letting Spencer fill in the blanks and hoping beyond belief that he’d pick up the pieces too. Spencer looks over at where his co-workers sat when they were working, he can't say he’s disappointed to see that they are gone.

“I never really apologized for what I said to you, Y/N. I know that I’ll never make it up to you, but..”

“It’s okay, Spencer. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, I’m just a waitress. And you, god. You are you. How could I ever think that I’d get a happily ever after with someone like you,” Y/N says, brushing past Spencer to collect the coffee mugs from the table.

“Please Y/N don’t believe that for a second,” Spencer says, his voice full of pain and regret.

Y/N thinks about the times that she would dream of seeing him again. She can’t remember if she’d rather him to be sorry or if she'd rather him rush back to her and sweep her off her feet again with a love confession that rivals the greatest stories ever told. But then again, waitresses don’t get knights in shining armor. Especially when those knights wear sweater vests, despite being in law enforcement. Spencer always loved facts, and he told it to her in a few more words than necessary, people like Spencer Reid don’t end up with people like Y/N Y/LN.

“You still think too highly of me, even after I hurt you, I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you,” Spencer says, hanging his head low. His hair, that’s grown much longer, falls into place over his eyes, as if it’s shielding Spencer from Y/N.

“Did you come here tonight thinking I’d be here? Did a part of you still want to see me?” Y/N asks, she wants to reach out and touch Spencer’s hand, she wants to reach out and feel that his hand is still the same hand that would caress her face and make all her worries vanish. But it’s hard when that hand is attached to the man who destroyed you.

“I didn’t think you’d still work here, Y/N. You always hated living in the desert. Remember how we talked of getting a place somewhere cold where you can see the snow, but still be warm-”

“And safe inside? Yeah, Spencer, I remember that. But that was our dream, how can I still want that when it’s tainted by you,” Y/N spits, walking towards the last booth in the row. She plops down, sinking into the plastic covered cushion. Spencer, nervously, sits down next to her. He doesn’t say anything, knowing how Y/N’s bated breath and tapping foot tell him she’s going to unleash 7 years of pent of hatred and frustration. And somehow, 7 years of desire and want and love.

“I lied Spencer,” Y/N says, looking down at the table. “I lied. I hate it here, you’re right. God, why are you always right?” She smiles wickedly and Spencer has to tell himself to not give way to his emotions. He needs to let Y/N finally release her justified anger onto him.

“You moved on, Spencer. You moved on and I’m right where you left me,” Y/N’s strained voice is perhaps noise that Spencer knows will haunt his nightmares, “It’s like I’m a ghost of that girl I was when I was 23, waiting for someone who’s moved on. Waiting for you, but god, no one wants to love someone so fucking pathetic,”

Spencer wants to react, he wants to reach out a kiss away Y/N tears that fall down her cheeks. He wants to make her pain go away, but how can he when he’s her pain. Spencer knew he never wanted to end up like his father, yet sitting in that corner booth watching Y/N cry, Spencer realizes he’s his father’s son. Spencer realizes that he ran away from the best thing that ever happened to him, when thought he got a better opportunity.

“I never moved on Y/N,” Spencer says, reaching down inside himself for the courage to tenderly hold Y/N’s hands in his own. Even all these years later, her hand still feels the same inside his.

“I’ve thought about you every single day of my life. It’s a curse, Y/N, not being able to forget how much I hurt you. As much as I try, I’ll never be able to erase the look on your face when I told you--”

“When you told me I wasn’t good enough,” Y/N finished for him. It looks like she can fill in his blanks as well as he can fill in her’s.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I didn’t mean it and I know that you’ll never look at me the same way, but I’ve never stopped loving you, Y/N. I’ll never stop loving you,” Spencer says, he’s sobbing at this point. The tears trail down his face and his skin in blotchy red.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly, like she’s trying to control the mix of passion and fury that threatens to take control of her, “I need to get this out without interruptions, so just please listen to me,”

Spencer nods and tries his best to not react when Y/N reaches down to his lap and takes her hands into his. He tries to hold in the emotions that split seems in his not-so tough exterior.

“I created a fantasy for you Spencer. I gave you the life that I could never give you. In my head you had kids because I needed you to be deliriously happy. I gave you a wife and I hated her because I love you too much to hate you. I needed you to have the life that I couldn’t give you, because it beats thinking you’re a mess. It beats thinking you ended up like me,” Y/N professes.

Spencer brings his hands up to her cheeks wiping away the tears that fall rapidly. Even the time he was kidnapped, the countless of times he was beaten or held hostage, his heart never ached quite like this. His heart never yearned to soothe someone’s pain as it did when Spencer watched Y/N come to terms with the years and years of heartbreak Spencer left her in.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Spencer says, his fingers lacing through Y/N’s pinned up hair, “I hated myself for years for doing what I did to you. I knew that there was no one else, there’s no one else for me, Y/N,”

Y/N’s cheek presses up against Spencer’s chest, his warm body is home and is spicy, yet sweet cologne the closest thing to paradise. She tries to get control over her breathing, trying to steady it and not slobber too much over Spencer’s soft shirt. His hands anchor her to him. They latch on to her elbows, begging her silently to not shove him off and kick him to the curb, even though it’s what he deserves.

“Oh god Spencer. You really still are my Spencer, aren’t you?” Y/N asks, her voice slightly muffled by Spencer’s chest. She can hear his heart beat, even now, it’s still in sync with her heart beat. After all these years, between all these miles, throughout all this pain, Y/N’s heart still beats for Spencer’s.

“I don’t wanna lose you again, Y/N,” Spencer says, the tears back on his face, some have dried slightly and new ones make their way down and pool onto the back of Y/N’s head. Spencer brushes his fingers against Y/N, making sure that he’s actually holding her in his arms in this little diner he thought he’d left in the past.

“Please don’t hurt me again, Spencer. I love you too much to lose you again, but I can’t get hurt like that. I can’t bear to do that again,” Y/N says, raising her head to look at Spencer in the eyes.

She can see the glistening tears that fall down his face and the way his gaze softens when his eyes latch on to her. They could spend hours drinking each other in, making up for the lost years. She searches his face, finding new age lines and wrinkles, and maybe even a gray hair or two. But underneath all that, he’s still Spencer.

“I though our love was dead, Spencer. I thought I had my chance real young and the rest of my life was going to be spent haunting this booth, waiting for a man that in my delusions was married to a wife that wasn’t me and with kids that aren’t mine. But good God, Spencer, you really are too much sometimes?” Y/N says, her voice breathy and exasperated as she leans in close to Spencer.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Spencer says, terrified for her answer, even though he knew it already, based on how deeply Y/N looks into his eyes.

Y/N is quiet, and even though it’s just a moment it feels like forever. They are so quiet that all they can hear is their heartbeats. The little diner where their fateful love story took flight is never quiet, yet in that moment you can hear a hair pin drop. Spencer counts the seconds that pass, reading Y/N’s eyes, reading her emotion, and praying to a God he’s not sure is real that she’s not going to leave him this time.

“Yes, Spencer. I love you too much to let you walk out here again,” Y/N says, leaning into Spencer’s face.

She bridges the gap that they’ve both been ignoring since they realized they were in each other’s company again. Spencer is still when she leans in, he doesn’t realize until her soft lips kiss him how much he’s missed her. Before his mind is able to run off the far away places called doubt and denial, Y/N wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck, hooking him in closer. Having each other so close has never made them feel so utterly helpless and giddy. Spencer feels like he needs to tether himself to Y/N’s because he still feels like she’s going to float away. The world was dizzying and Spencer was the only solid, strong thing, holding her to Earth. Y/N always knew he was her anchor, it was just a matter of time before Spencer realized it too. Spencer’s quiet whimpers and shaky tremors spurred her on, kissing up and down the openness of his face until she felt the need for air.

“You’ve been practicing? You’re better at this than when you were 23,” Y/N says, not wanting to let go of Spencer’s neck.

“No, God no, Y/N. I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Spencer says, slightly ashamed to be reminded of his deepest mistake.

“Spencer, baby, you know I forgive you, right? And considering you kiss like that now, I know how you can make it up to me,” Y/N says, planting a couple light, feathery kisses up Spencer’s neck and to the corners of his mouth. Her lips are like a paintbrush on his, turning the grimace he holds into a winning smile. He remembers that it’s near impossible for him to not be flustered near Y/N. He’s glad, even now, that still rings true.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer says, he leans his forehead against Y/N’s and lifts her hands to his mouth, kissing each of her fingers as he says “you are enough, and I’ll hope you’ll let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you,”

Y/N kisses Spencer on the nose as he scrunches it, causing her to laugh. She slips out of the booth and holds a hand out for Spencer to grasp. He takes it without hesitation and pulls her in closer. She supposes that after being apart for so long, it would take some time to get back into their rhythm. Y/N knows that it will never be the same; they aren’t 23 years old anymore. They’re scared and wounded, but together, Y/N thinks that they’ll never run out of things to talk about even if they are old and gray and wrinkled.

THANK-YOU FOR READING :) <3 <3

I really appreciate every like, comment, and reblog. It helps me know what people like about my writing things I should work on.

TAGLIST

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

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@spencerreid9

@saspencereid

@laurakirsten0502

[1kook]

commercial break ; SIX

this is part of my netflix & chill series this is foreshadowing for the next fic 👀

summary; Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. warnings; smut in the forms of riding, penetration, soft sex rating; mature (18+) misceallenous; jungkook thinks a lot.... and they're not always pg things... word count; 1.8k

notes; i have been neglecting my og jk dream team couple so here we are! anyway please look [ here ] and remember this face ....

He’s never minded taking the reins before, but there’s something distinctly carnal that flashes in Jungkook’s chest when you ask to ride him that morning. The sun filtering in through the window beside him captures the entirety of your beauty on top of him, endless expanses of soft skin and dips and curves. “Pretty,” he sighs, hands on your hips. You’re so tired but so gorgeous, supple breasts bouncing in his face, eyelashes kissing your cheeks with each sleepy blink. Rarely do you push him down like this, hands on his chest as you whimper and grind yourself to completion, but Jungkook certainly wasn’t complaining.

In all the time he’s known you, Jungkook’s become quite familiar with your sexual prowess. You liked to play the opposite game with him, seduce him and push him until he snapped and took you over a table or cuffed you to a bed, all blessed experiences that he treasures very much. He loved how you sounded bent over the kitchen counter, or shoved against the sheets. If Jungkook had to pinpoint the exact moment his horniness skyrocketed, it was definitely the second his name left your lips in a breathy little whimper. He adored you and your body, liked taking care of you.

But every now and then… he liked to be pampered.

Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. Blindfolding you and having you cum on a riding crop was definitely the highest on the list and that was done; after that incident he’s woken many a night with a rock hard cock in his sleep shorts like some dorky teenager fantasizing about his girlfriend. And on the nights you didn’t sleep over, he was forced to fend for himself, the tape recorder in his brain recalling every single thing that had happened that night.

But now it was time to move onto the next, and that next bullet point on his imaginary list was letting you fuck yourself on his cock with no help at all.

Most times you rode him you tended to give up halfway through. You started off strong, overexcited glint in your eyes as you rabidly fucked yourself on him. But your natural pillow princess tendencies (no shade) always won over, always had you softly begging him to help. He’s always been more than happy to, especially if it meant coming sooner, but sometimes Jungkook just wanted to be used. Wanted to be pushed down and taken advantage of, especially if that was at your hands. It was a concept that probably went against everything your sexual relationship was built upon; him being the submissive one was about as rare as you not play-fighting back. And still, Jungkook wanted more than anything in the world to see that side of you, that femdom, as Doyeon had so meanly teased him about once.

So here he is, partially living that fantasy as you slide up and down on his cock. You’ve got one hand on his lower abdomen, the other on the top of a thigh, working yourself against him lazily. It’s not at the intensity of Jungkook’s dreams, but it sure is a sight. “B-Bend your knee for me, honey,” you pant, and Jungkook does, pulling his leg up until you’re sloppily using it as leverage to bounce on him. “G-Good boy,” you rasp.

It’s that word, that wretched word that makes something in Jungkook go soft, throw the past year of training out the window. He likes to think he’s in charge— he is —but every now and then you use that word against Jungkook and it’s like everything is reversed and always has been. Like it’s always been you leading sex, you telling him how good he is, and not the other way around.

He groans, tightens his hands on your hips as you continue bouncing away. Every glide of your warm folds around his cock makes his heart lurch, makes him want to bury himself inside of you and never leave. Jungkook would never admit it to your or anyone, but there was this rather clingy side of him that reared its ugly head when you were involved. He never wants anyone else to see you like this, never wants anyone else to feel you like this, which is where his spiraling begins.

You see, below that being-pushed-down-by-my-girlfriend point was another, slightly overlooked point, that entrenched upon dangerous, almost taboo territory. And that was stuffing you full of his cum— off birth control —and watching you swell and swell until there was no way you couldn’t be pregnant. And Jungkook, for some odd reason, wanted that really badly.

A soft groan above him, a lazy smile on your face as you reach down to idly toy with your clit, pussy flush against the base of his cock now. He knows better than to tell you to move because it’ll break this tender moment, this unique experience of you using him like some glorified dildo like he so desperately wanted sometimes. So he shuts his lips, goes back to that other fantasy that is only fueled by the soft swell of your tits when you move.

God, they would get so big, he thinks. Would be so round, just like the rest of you, and bursting with milk. It’s for the baby, for the baby, he tells himself, but there’s image in his head, this so terribly wrong image, of him suckling your breasts, holding your waist as the milk drips down his chin and over your skin, senses overwhelmed as he does something he’s definitely not supposed to. But you’d be so sweet, his mind says, would be so sweet and... full of life.

Above him, you giggle deliriously, sweat dripping down the slope of your neck. For a second he wonders if you’ve somehow tapped into his thoughts, seen all his perverted fantasies, but then you’re looking at him with that adoring gaze that makes his heart burst. “Pretty boy,” you tease, rolling your hips forward until that cute little button above your slit is grinding against him.

Yes, he certainly was your pretty boy, your good boy— he was whatever boy you wanted him to be. Why? Because he was so in love with you that the mere thought of you not being his and him not being yours made him gag. He just wanted you, so soft and warm around him, for the rest of his life. Maybe a belly? Maybe a child? Jungkook wanted it all, and his dick throbs at the mere idea of you possibly giving him that and more.

He was completely lost in his thoughts, never to be seen again.

A muffled whimper, so airy that it takes Jungkook a moment to realize it came from him. He’s too riled up to feel embarrassed, simply rolls his head from side to side as you clench those puffy walls around him. “C-Cum inside?” he pants, “can I— can I cum inside?” You lean forward; the tip of his engorged cock brushes against a sensitive spot inside of you, pulling a sinful moan from your lips. “P- Please?”

You smile, so pretty and sweet, it makes his dick twitch. “Of course,” you murmur, small hand on the side of his face, hips rolling rhythmically. “Wh- what’s that thing you said the other day?” you shiver, sleek skin catching the rays of the sun perfectly. A glittering highlight decorates your body, and that only tightens the coil in his stomach until it’s springing up with insane force. “Baby?”

“Yes?” he grunts, every muscle fiber in his body needed to hold even the smallest semblance of self control.

A giggle from you as he dazedly looks up. “Not you,” you chuckle, leaning down to sweetly peck him on the lips. It’s so soft and gentle, just like everything else about you. It takes everything in his body to keep him stable. “Remember?” you purr, hot breathe flush against his skin. “You wanted to put a baby in me.”

His hips jerk, a moan spilling from his lips that he doesn’t catch fast enough. “N-No,” he mewls, turning his face away from you like maybe it’ll prolong his orgasm, maybe it’ll lessen the aching heat around his cock. He can’t possibly hear those words from your lips, not when he knows you’re on birth control and that that notion is physically impossible right now. It’ll plant a terrible seed in his head, ruin Jungkook for weeks.

But you’re nothing if not persistent, forcing yourself down against him as he begins violently blushing, trying to mask his excitement. “Baby?” you repeat, as if he’s a puppy hearing the words ‘outside;’ fuck it, Jungkook thinks, he was whatever you wanted him to be. “Wanna fuck a baby into me, Jungkookie?” you exhale, hot breath against his ear. His hips spasm a second time, send you rolling down his cock with those perky nipples flush against his chest. “Mmmh, come on, honey… need you to work for it.”

And work Jungkook does.

His hands wrap around your frame, pull you flush against his body. Feet against the bed, thighs tense, he begins rapidly thrusting up into the warm entrance of your pussy, where yours and his cum seep out together. It’s slippery and wet, but not wet enough — he wants to feel his cum around himself, feel it bulge inside your stomach until you physically can’t hold anymore. “G-Good boy,” you whine, lips raining down featherlight smooches along his jawline. “Doing so good for me, honey—“

You’re cut off by the earth-shattering orgasm that consumes Jungkook, an almost feral groan that tears itself from his throat. “Mine, mine,” he sobs, doesn’t recognize his own voice in his ears. “Gonna be mine.”

A stuttered reply as your juices join his, leak down his softening cock until the sticky sweet fluid makes him feel dirty. It’s not even 8 AM yet and he’s already covered in cum. But it’s worth it when you lean back with that pretty smile, push his damp hair away from his sweaty face with the practiced touch of an angel. “Did you like that?” you ask softly, not making to move off of him. In fact, Jungkook swears you squeeze around his quickly limpening cock.

Any other woman he thinks he might have been embarrassed, die from humiliation of presenting her with a soft dick. But with you, it’s comfortable. It’s sweet and soft, your silky folds milking the last of his cum straight out of his cock. Jungkook whimpers, head bobbing at your question. You cup his face in your hands, fingers like butterflies against his skin. He swears he could transcend right now.

Another languid kiss, tongue lazily toying with his until his mouth feels heavy from the saliva you push down his throat. The light filtering in through the window paints your skin in soft colors, makes him feel so warm and loved; he could die like this and not feel an inch of remorse.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[griffintail]

A Successful Test

Summary: What if Nikki had successfully lead Tommy to the test sight but the reader comes to help the young boy?

Pairings: Platonic! Tommy x F! reader, Mentioned Wilbur x F! Reader

Warnings! : Angst, Depressive thoughts, Death

A/N :Psst, there’s now a Part Two

        Tommy heard static from the walkie on his belt, taking it off to give it a good smack (which usually worked), but only static continued to pour from the device.

        “Damn, my walkie’s busted, what about yours Niki?” Tommy looked to the older woman as he put the device back on his belt.

        “Oh, I left mine back at my base.” Niki lied, hers safely tucked deep in her inventory bag. “Come on, not much further.”

        The young boy rolled his eyes at her persistence but followed none the less to this so-called giant forest of spruce trees. He just wanted to get his damn hotel finish, why couldn’t he just cut down the wood around them?

        Niki was being forceful though, whenever he tried, she’d just pull him along as he rambled on to fill the void of silence. Tommy hated how she was acting. This wasn’t like how she used to be back when…L’Manberg was still standing. God, why couldn’t have (Y/N) met up with him like she promised? Maybe it would be a lot different instead.

        He frowned at the thought of his older sister figure. If only his stupid walkie was working, he’d ask her where she wound up. Maybe she got caught up in her research again; she wanted to see if she could successfully resurrect Wilbur before Dream had the chance in hopes, everything would right. She didn’t trust Dream as far as she could throw him and Tommy didn’t blame her in the slightest.

        Tommy smiled fondly at the thoughts of (Y/N). She had been the only one to visit him and Ghostbur. Of course, he suspected she just really wanted to see the ghost of her boyfriend, but she always assured him that she wanted to spend time with him as well. There were times when she’d bring him gifts to help his progress that he’d hide so Dream would never find them. Dream…did find them though and Tommy went into hiding with Technoblade. The hug she had given him when she found out he was alive and well.

        The scolding was a much less fond memory in his mind but he was still glad to see her. And the scolding he got after getting his discs back alive! That was much scarier than going against Dream.

        Tubbo nor Tommy had told the older woman they were going to their possible final battle. It was their battle and they knew she also walked with only one life left to her name. They weren’t going to let her lose it protecting them…again. But, when she had walked through that portal after Punz, Tommy couldn’t explain how much relief filled him as (Y/N) gripped a netherite ax and wore her best gear as she glared daggers at Dream. Of course, after they got the scolding, but the relief in the moment was greatly needed.

        However, he hadn’t seen her as much after Dream’s declaration that he could bring Wilbur back. She had been researching ways to bring him back before, but after Dream’s announcement, her time spent pouring over books was increased by tenfold. (Y/N) did like Ghostbur but both she and Tommy missed their Wilbur. So, she had cut back the time she had spent with the younger boys but they both understood. Tommy just missed being able to talk shit with her and going to her for comfort when he remembered…the bad things.

        Between all his thoughts, thinking about (Y/N), he didn’t notice he had stopped talking and now Niki was slowing down. Tommy frowned deeply, there wasn’t a tree in sight.

        “Nikki…what’s going on?” Tommy asked her, his hand resting on the Axe of Peace, a little suspicious of her intentions.

        “I’m not sure.” She muttered before taking out an ender pearl. “Wait right here. I’m going to look ahead.”

        Tommy huffed as she threw the pearl and was further away from him. He waited a moment before shaking his head.

        “Fuck this shit.” He murmured, turning back towards the spruce forest behind him.

        As he did, he squinted his eyes seeing a figure sprinting towards him.

        “…(Y/N)?!” He looked at her surprised.

        Before he knew it, he jumped back as his sister figure appeared in front of him after the shattering of a pearl. She looked disheveled and most certainly was out of breath.

        “We got to fucking go.” She said frantically, putting a pearl in his hand.

        “What? What’s going on? Nikki just…”

        “THERE’S NO TIME!” She shouted, startling Tommy. “THROW THE GOD DAMN PEARL! I’ll be behind you!”

        Tommy wasn’t going to ask her twice. He threw the pearl towards the forest and landed right at the tree line. Shaking his head, he went to look around him, jumping once more when he heard something loud go by, the leaves on the trees being disturbed by the object. Looking up, Tommy’s eyes went wide.

        “That’s one of Tubbo’s…” He muttered, the nuke going to land.

        He followed the path of where the object was about to land and his eyes went wider.

        “(Y/N)!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

        The young woman was still standing in the middle of the field, hands on her knees as she smiled softly to herself. She had no more pearls and she had no time, but she didn’t mind.

        She saved Tommy and that’s all she wanted…

        “SHIT! (Y/N)!” Tommy shouted as he started to sprint for her, but it was too late.

        Tommy was thrown back at the intensity of the explosion, his ears ringing loudly, eyes shut tight at the light, and smoke filling the air. He coughed as his arms shook trying to push himself up.

        It was a lie; she’d still be there. He had to be dreaming! He’d wake up and she’d tell him he was alright! Just another bad dream!

        Giving another cough, he blinked his eyes open and saw the hole in front of him. This time, he choked on a sob as he shakily stood up. There…there was no way she would have survived…

        Closing his eyes tightly, he wished it all to be a nightmare. It was all a nightmare.

        But the ringing in his ears told him otherwise.

        The smoke in his lungs told him otherwise.

        The emotional and physical pain coursing through his body told him otherwise.

        With his eyes still closed, he took the walkie off. Even if it was broken, he knew it would show him the one message he always hated seeing. The message of a lost life. Opening his eyes, tears filled them while his hands shook.

        (Y/N) blew up.

        Even though he couldn’t hear it, Tommy screamed as he threw the walkie away from him in the snow. He screamed with anger, pain…sadness.

        His legs gave out on him and he fell to the ground, giving another scream before he pulled his legs close to him. She shouldn’t have done that.

        None of this should have happened!

        How did this happen!?

        Tears fell rapidly down his cheeks as he coughed and sobbed.

        All the bad thoughts from exile came rushing back and he gripped his hair.

        This was his fault.

        It should have been him.

        She wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for you.

        “Tommy!”

        Tommy startled as he felt someone holding his shoulders, the ringing in his ears had died down slightly. Looking up as he sobbed, he saw Tubbo. His best friend…the maker of the nuke…

        “YOU KILLED HER!” Tommy screamed, jumping back from the other boy. “YOUR NUKE KILLED HER!”

        Tubbo had tears in his eyes well, having gotten the message as well. He hoped it wasn’t true. He looked at the crater…a successful test…but at what cost?

        “I—I warned everyone! I—No one should have—Why were you—?” Tubbo was running his hands through his hair frantically.

        Jack stood at the edge of the crater, away from the pair as he kept his anger in as best, he could. She fucked up and got an innocent killed with Tommy still breathing.

        “What happened?” Tubbo whispered to Tommy.

        Tommy almost didn’t hear him with the remaining ringing left in his ears but he caught it. The blonde shook his head frantically as he held his head.

        “She…She saved me…Then that fucking nuke came and killed her!” Tommy yelled.

        Tubbo shook as he hugged himself, staring at the crater. He’d…he’d caused this…

        “Why were you out here?!” Tubbo took his turn to shout, tears pouring down his face. “I told everyone not to come to snow biomes!”

        “My walkie was busted! Nikki didn’t have hers!” Tommy held his head as the pain was overwhelming.

        First Wilbur! Now…now (Y/N). None of this could be fucking real!

        “Nikki? What does she have to do with this?!” Tubbo cried in frustration and sadness.

        “I—I don’t know! Ok?! I can’t think Tubbo!” Tommy screamed. “I—I can’t do this right now. I have to go.”

        And Tommy ran. He just ran and ran.

        (Y/N) had been with him through so much. The founding of L’Manberg, the revolution, the skirmishes after, the election, Pogtopia, Wilbur’s betrayal on the both of them, his exile, the final stand for L’Manberg!

        They fought together, they laughed together, they smiled together.

        And all he could think about was how he would brush her off, how he didn’t need a woman to help him, how he used to make fun of her and Wilbur’s relationship, how he never told her how much he loved her being like a sister to him, how he never told her how much he appreciated her help…

        Tommy fell into the snow, gripping onto his jacket as he sobbed.

        He sat here breathing when the world had lost one of the best…

[lunabonita]

My Webtoon Recommendations

These are webtoons that are all 10/10 for me. Of course it doesn’t have to be a 10/10 for you, so just a reminder, do not attack me for liking a webtoon that you do not. These are my opinions and we are not going to have the exact same taste. Please be respectful.

Your Throne

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 75

Status: Ongoing

-

“Tensions are brewing under the seemingly calm surface of the Vasilios Empire, a kingdom ruled by the Imperial Family and the Temple. Lady Medea Solon has lost her place next to Crown Prince Eros, but resolves to win back whats rightfully hers. Will she reclaim her throne?”

You know whats amazing about this webtoon? The summary leads you to think that what shes winning back is the prince. Wrong. Shes trying to win back the throne. I love how this webtoon doesn’t try to make it a girl focusing her goals on a man, but on power. Medea is such a strong and well written character that you can’t help but love her.

The second protagonist Pschye, who of which is the person who took Medeas place as Crown Princess, is the complete opposite of Medea. At the beginning you hate her, but as the webtoon goes on and Medea and her get a better understanding of eachother due to them switching bodies as a wish from God, you begin to root for them as they team up to take over the throne from the Crown Prince.

The art is so beautiful and I constantly found myself at awe from the amount of detail put into it.

-

The Makeup Remover

Genre: Romace

Chapters: 78

Status: Ongoing

-

“After years of being told to focus on studying, Yeseul feels lost when she starts college and is suddenly expected to pay attention to makeup. When a chance encounter with brilliant makeup artist Yuseong leads to her taking part in a televised makeup competition, Yeseul begins to question the role that makeup and appearance play in society.”

This was created by one of my favorite webtoon creators Lee Yone. Their art is just so amazing and their stories always include such good topics.

For instance, The Makeup Remover’s theme is loving yourself for who you are. It shows how people treat you based on your looks and as someone whos struggled with that kind of thing for a while, this webtoon really touched me. The main character Yeseul is such a relatable character, even when trying to reject beauty standards, she still came subject to the pressures of living up to the people around her. She struggles with trying to love her own appearance and I really like that this webtoon didn’t try to be like, ‘fuck the beauty standard im better than that screw pretty people!!!’ it actually showed realistically how people struggle with self-image. I also love the main love interest because oh my god, we need more men like him please. He doesn’t care about Yeseul’s appearance and genuinely loves her for her personality.

Also, art is amazing. The author is so talented and you should support them by reading and liking the chapters.

-

Surviving Romance

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 14

Status: Ongoing

-

“When Chaerin Eun becomes the protagonist of the romance novel she is reading, she expects a fairytale ending with the novel’s love interest, Jeha. But when a bizarre twist makes her realize the story is not playing out as it does in the book, she’ll need the help of an unlikely character from her class to defy the new storyline and find her happy ending - if only she can figure out who this ‘Unknown Extra’ is first!”

Hands down one of my favorite webtoons by a long shot. You ever see a webtoon and think, ‘oh yeah, thats going to be a good webtoon’? Thats how this webtoon was for me. It was so good that I spent hours searching for other chapters that hadn’t been uploaded to webtoon yet on other manhua websites. I discovered it because it was also by the author of ‘The Makeup Remover’.

If there is one thing you need to know about me, its that I am a huge horror fan. So when I saw that my favorite author on webtoon had a horror themed webtoon out? You bet your behind that I binged it. Let me tell you, best choice ever.

Think of it as if ‘Ino’s Law’ and ‘Quarantine’ were combined with amazing art and a badass MC.

The Remarried Empress

I love how it is set up to the point where she cannot ‘quit’ until she completes the novel. Creating scenarios where she must survive while meeting the standards in the book. It is such an amazingly written webtoon and I cannot wait for more chapters to be released.

-

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 82

Status: Ongoing

-

“Navier Ellie Trovi was an empress perfect in every way - intelligent, courageous, and socially adept. She was kind to her subjects and devoted to her husband. Navier was perfectly content to live the rest of her days as the wise empress of the Eastern Empire. That is, until her husband brought hone a mistress and demanded a divorce. ‘I accept this divorce… And i request an approval of my remarriage.’ In a shoking twist Navier remaarries another emperor and retains her title and childhood dream as empress. But just how did everything unfold? “

Am I in love with Navier? Yes.

I absolutely adore how this story was set up. The first chapter begins with the big divorce scene, followed by Navier saying that she was going to be remarrying someone else since he wants to divorce her. This sets up a picture that gets completely shattered as you read the chapters. How everything falls into place with the reason behind the divorce and the remarriage is just so well written. The art is so good and and everything is just so insanely well done.

I absolutely love Naviers character, from her regalness and devoted loyalty to her role as empress, all the way to her petty moments and times of sadness. She is truly a character that you want the best for, and I cannot image anyone not liking her. Also the story is just so capable of making you feel emotions. I’ve laughed, cried, and got angry during the course of reading this webtoon. I love how betrayed I felt when the emperor brought home his mistress. It felt like I was in Navier’s shoes!

This is such a well done webtoon and I'm so excited for Navier to get all of the good things she deserves in her new Kingdom and with her new husband.

-

Witch Creek Road

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 74

Status: Ongoing

-

“A survival horror about love, acceptance, death, and revenge. And sexy flesh-eating demons. Yeah, it has those, too.”

This series seriously mind fucked me. The way that this story is set up, you don’t see the full picture until the later chapters. Season two literally blew my mind. It is also very gorey so keep that in mind if you don’t like that kind of stuff, but for me that makes it all the better. It is just so wild and crass that you can feel your heart pumping in anticipation.

They even have their own website that goes further into the lore because it’s just so wild. Also the art style is just so amazing, because it complements the story and horror theme so much. You hate most of the characters because they suck, and it is so satisfying when they are killed. Also it has it’s sad moments but I think it is a nice break from the horror so it isn’t so overwhelmingly scary.

I binged this series and I recommend reading only a few chapters a day so you don’t overload your brain.

Other then that, an amazing webtoon. Seriously, go read it, support the author, so much work goes into the story and art that it’s insane.

-

Dating With A Tail

Genre: Romance

Chapters: 36

Status: Ongoing

-

“On the dawn of her 29th birthday, unlucky-in-love Yunha discovers a shocking family secret: she’s started growing a fox tail, the mark of an ancestral curse. She must find her fated love before her 30th birthday or she is destined to become a fox forever! Even with her new-found enchanting power to attract men using her scent, will one year be enough to break the curse before it’s too late?”

Oh my gosh this is just such a good webtoon. It has amazing art, story telling, and characters. The true love interest was there the whole time, the villain isn’t who you’d expect it to be, and the spirit who cursed her is just! Im not going to spoil it but go read this webtoon!! It is so good and deserves more love.

Also Yunha is just so relatable?? Like she put off finding the woodcutter (her fated love) for 29 years and waited last minute to find him. Homegirl is me trying to do a project for school. Also to get rid of the scent that makes men attracted to her, she just starts eating a ton of garlic and that is just so funny to me.

Also I would go to church for the priest anytime if you know what i mean ;)

-

Omniscient Reader

Genre: Action

Chapters: 53

Status: Ongoing

-

“Dokja was an average office worker whose sole interest was reading his favorite web novel ‘Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse.’ But when the novel suddenly becomes reality, he is the only person who knows how the world will end. Armed with this realization, Dokja uses his understanding to change the course of the story, and the world, as he knows it.”

I cannot get over how high quality this story is. The world building is phenomenal, the art is fantastic, and the characters are very fleshed out. This deserved all the hype it has gotten so far and more.

I love the ‘mc thrown into a different reality’ trope so much. Just like with surviving romance, Dokja’s world became the story he was reading. Also a very cool aspect of the story is the level up and the fact that its like a game. Earth has turned into this show for god like creatures to watch and it follows Dokja trying to survive. I also really like that TWSA has a protagonist, but Omniscient Reader’s protagonist is not the protagonist that was in TWSA. There is just so much lore and I’ll say it again, the world building is just phenomenal.

The Ddokkaebi’s and Dokja’s interactions are also just some of my favorite moments from the story so far. And oh my goodness I would die for Lee Gilyoung. Thats it, thats the tweet. That little boy could probably kill me with his giant praying mantis and I would let him if it would make him happy.

-

Not So Shoujo Love Story

Genre: Comedy

Chapters: 45

Status: Ongoing

-

“Romance super-fan Rei Chan is ready for her first boyfriend and she knows just who it’ll be: the most handsome boy in school, Hansum Ochinchin. But her plans for the perfect story are derailed when the most popular girl in class declares herself a rival… for Rei’s heart?! This is the year her not so shoujo love story begins!”

This is just such a cute webtoon. The style is very appealing and while the humor can be childish and weird sometimes, it still has made me laugh a lot. I know the humors not for everyone but just keep in mind that it does get better as the story progresses and gets more serious.

Also its a gl! I’m really unable to find good gls these days that don’t fetishize wlw relationships. Rei being painted as a mean trouble maker whos just misunderstood and Hana being the ‘perfect girl’ who only wants Rei’s attention is such a cute dynamic. They balance each other out and better each other. Also stan Rei for constantly sticking up for Hana even if she doesn’t necessarily like her in the beginning, she has very good morals and sticks to them.

Also the defying stereotypes in this webtoon? Just god-tier. Really makes you think twice when you judge someone just on first impressions alone.

-

Odd Girl Out

Genre: Drama

Chapters: 264

Status: Ongoing

-

“After a successful winter break makeover, Nari is finally ready for her high school debut. But somehow, she ends up friends with the three prettiest girls in school! Follow Nari as she tries to navigate her brand new high school life surrounded by beauties.”

This story has made me cry multiple times. A lot, even. It is just such a beautiful tale of friendship and finding support in people who are unlike those around theme. It also tells a great story about how anybody can be the ‘odd girl out’. Be it the fat girl, the beautiful girl, the rich girl, or the laid back girl.

It goes so deep into its characters that you even feel bad for the minor antagonists. It really makes you feel for the characters and the reasons behind their actions. Also I know its long, believe me I binged all 260 chapters in the span of three days, but oh my god it is worth it. Also I know the art is kind of off-putting, in fact that’s kind of why I put off reading the story, but I’ve honestly grown to love it and the writing is so good that the art could be literal stick figures and it wouldn’t matter.

The story is amazing and also I just love Nari. She’s just the best.

-

Gremoryland

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 67

Status: Completed

-

“Six old school friends are invited to be the first visitors of GremoryLand, a new horror theme park that promises an experience as unique as it is spooky. But once this experience starts there is no turning back, and they find themselves tested beyond what they imagines, facing their most desperate fears in order to survive.”

This is definitely one of those stories were you kind of need to turn of your brain and choose to ignore ‘plot holes’ while reading the early chapters because this story definitely gets crazy if you don’t know the ending. Believe me if you stick with it it will all make sense and the satisfaction you get from finding the ending is just so worth it.

The story is so good, and who Gremory is you would literally never suspect. When it was revealed who Gremory was and how he was able to create Gremoryland is so fucking mind boggling that you would never guess. I had to do a double take. It wasn’t like one of those random characters with a vendetta type of twists, but like one you can pick out from clues throughout the story.

Its so good and twisted and just so worth at least giving it a chance.

-

These were some of my favorite webtoons on the app! Of course it’s not all of them because unfortunately there is a 10 image limit. I also made this because I’ve run out of new webtoons to read and would love if you guys commented some of your own recs. I can also do a part two with other ones I liked if y’all want more recommendations. You guys can even request specific categories like Drama or Sci-Fi and I can tell you my favorite ones from that genre.

Also a reminder - if you disagree with any of my praise of these webtoons be respectful about it. At the end of the day it’s my opinion and you don’t need to be rude when disagreeing with that opinion.

[strawberrylemonz]

Kitchen Utensils

Part 4

Part 5 [CURRENT]

Part 6

As usual, let me dedicate this update to both @applepie1000 and @petrichormeraki 

Hope you all enjoy!

------------

Tommy and Grian were making their way through the streets of the main server, following the arrow of the compass to their destination. 

“Calm down, Shooting Star. You’re practically glowing like a star.”

Tommy just laughed, giving a half assed apology that he didn’t mean. So what if his stars were brighter than the fucking sun? Who was he to give a fuck? Clara seemed to agree with him, he could feel it. Or maybe she was about to add more people on his growing list of family. She was so unpredictable, that goddess. Mischievous, too. Tommy didn’t care, though, he took after her in that area. She loved that about him, along with several other things. According to her, he was her favorite demi child. It’s gotten to the point that he’s stopped reminding her that he’s her only one. 

“Sorry, dude, I’m just so fucking hyped up! Kristin’s joining us! Hell yeah!”

Grian laughed as he peered around, looking for something. Perking up, he nodded over to a booth. 

“I’m going to go get us train tickets to that small town Kristin mentioned. Wait here for me.”

Rolling his eyes, Tommy playfully pushed his brother towards the ticket booth. Smiling, Tommy wandered over to a nearby bench and sat down, waiting for Grian to return. As he settled down, small, soft hands covered his eyes. Familiar giggling filled his ears.

“Oh, Toooooommyyyyyy”

A gasp escaped his lips as he sat up, putting his hands on top of the ones on his eyes. Pulling them off, he quickly turned around, excited. 

“LANI?! Holy shit! Wait, shit, sorry, pg-13. Wait, fuck-”

Lani laughed as she pulled away from him. Hopping over the bench, she sat down beside the older boy. 

“It’s been over 2 years, Tommy, you can cuss around me.”

“You’re still short as hell”

“You know what? That wasn’t very nice of you, bad word privileges are revoked.”

Tommy laughed as Lani softly punched his shoulder, a big smile painted on her face. 

“Where have you been, Tommy? Drista told me that you went missing in the Dream SMP.”

“Ah, that crap. Well, I’ve been-”

“Avoiding us, I bet.”

Tommy didn’t even get to react in time. Lani gasped, hiding a small smile, as Tommy was smacked upside his head. Rubbing his head, he turned to face the culprit. Let out an annoyed laughed, he playfully glared.

“I would have said that it’s nice to see you, but you’re being a little shit. What the fuck, Drista.”

Drista let out a laugh, gaining the attention of a few pedestrians. Pushing Tommy over towards Lani’s side of the bench, the masked girl sat down on the other side of him.

“It’s good to see you, we thought you were dead.”

“It’s good to see you guys, too. Kind of weird not seeing you possessing your brothers’ bodies.”

Tommy laughed as Drista cheered. Lani giggled as she joined along with the cheering. 

“Thank god, I hate using Clay’s body just so I can visit you. It’s nice being in my own body, thank you very much.”

“I agree with Drista. Toby’s body just doesn’t cut it for me. I’m Lani, I’m too cool to use his body just to hang out with you.”

A hum of agreement could be heard from the boy as he nodded his head, peering over to see that Grian was nearly at the front of the line. 

“How is Tubbo?”

Lani smiled up at Tommy as Drista coughed to try and hide her words.

“ClingyInnit”

“How dare you, I’m far from clingy! Tubbo is the clingy one! Tell her, Lani!”

Lani laughed before defusing the situation before it could grow. 

“Tubbo is doing much better than he was doing while in the Dream SMP. He’s healing, but he misses you very much.”

“Is he not in the Dream SMP anymore?”

Both Lani and Drista shook their heads. Tommy sucked in a breath as he fell back against the backside of the bench. He paid no mind to the concerned faces that the girls were making. Instead, his mind wandered to his best friend. Tubbo, his Tubbo, was safe. He was away from Dream’s prying eyes, away from Techno’s killer techniques, away from the stressful responsibilities put on his shoulders. 

“Where is he?”

Lani smiled as Drista crossed her leg, taking over on the talking. 

“He’s safe. He’s actually living in the world that Lani and I ended up in. Why don’t we take you to visit? The admin there is very welcoming towards guests.”

“Hey Toms, ready to go? Oh, who are these ladies?”

Grian stood in front of the three younger beings, confused. Quirking an eyebrow, he waited for his brother to explain. Rolling his eyes, he began to introduce the ladies gremlins to his brother, and vice versa. After the girls promised to meet him in the Hub later that day, they bid farewell to the brothers before heading to their portal. 

“Ready to get Kristin?”

“Fuck yeah! Mumza pog!”

------

Crumbled fliers blew in the wind, flying across the lands of the Dream SMP server. 

“Huh?”

A tired hand grabbed a flier mid air. As he unraveled the partially crumbled paper, he read it with boredom. His boredom, however, turned to frantic hope as he read Tommy’s name. Knowing that he couldn’t wait months for his chance, he quickly pocketed the flier before going back into his hidden base. He had been hiding for a couple years, and he was done with hiding. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t believe that he might have a chance to be able to go outside without feeling fear. Looking around his base, he took note of the important things that he should take with him. He was in the middle of making a list when, all of a sudden, a shattering sound caught his attention. Hurrying to his feet, his panic melted away as the sound go giggles filled the base. Rubbing his face, he made his way to the source of the sound.

“Well, I hope you’re ready to receive guests, Uncle Tommy. We’ll be knocking at your door in a week.”

With that, Fundy left the room, laughing as he entered the other.

[frankiekatt]

1-800-Miss-Ur-Guts

Characters: Dabi / Touya Todoroki

Notes: Loosely based off the song ‘1-800-miss-ur-guts’ by the Tramp Stamps! This is the first fic I’ve ever shared and I’m so excited to share it with you guys! Dabi is one of the loves of my life so I hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and emotional manipulation. Umm I think that’s it but if I missed anything please let me know!

Words: 10k

Synopsis: She was not you, and here he was, in her apartment, in her bed, kissing her, pleasing her, fucking her. He felt like he was betraying you the first few times he did it. He had to keep reminding himself that you were gone, you weren’t his girlfriend anymore. He could have sex with whoever he wanted. After the first couple girls, the guilt and disgust melted away and morphed into delirium. If he was in bed with some girl he met at a bar, he could forget your face. If he kissed her lips in a sloppy, rushed manner, he could forget the way he felt to be touched by you. If he listened to her maddening moans as he fucked into her, he could forget the way your voice sounded, just for a moment. And that was enough for him to survive each day without you.

The air was stale and warm when Dabi first opened his eyes. It was dark, the room unfamiliar and the bed was uncomfortably hot and cramped due to the naked body that was sprawled out beside him.

Never like how mornings were with you.

With a deep groan, Dabi sat up and glanced at the bedside clock. 1:36pm.

He had slept way too fucking late.

Rising slowly from the bed so as not to wake the sleeping blonde beside him, Dabi began to slip his jeans and tattered t-shirt back onto his body despite the pain in his head flashing hard and hot. Once dressed, he quickly walked to the bathroom and softly closed the door behind him. Cobalt eyes stared back at him in the mirror, tired and spent. His black hair was messy, sticking out in all directions, and the skin underneath his eyes were stained purple and black from stress and from the alcohol he consumed the night before. There was a large, dark bruise on the side of his neck from where – Misa? Mila? – had sucked on the night before. Dabi Todoroki looked like a fucking disaster.

Looking away from his disheveled appearance, Dabi turned on the cold tap water and splashed his face in an attempt to soothe his gnarly headache. It works in just the slightest, as the cool water felt revivifying on his inked skin. Grabbing a small hand towel from underneath the hotel’s sink, Dabi wiped his face gingerly until all the water droplets were gone.

He needed to leave soon. To get ready. To see you.

“Hey, you alright in there?” a high-pitched voice asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

Shit. Dabi really did not feel like conversing with last night’s drunken hook-up. He could barely remember what she said to catch his attention in the small, dingy bar he frequented almost each night, or how they ended up in the equally small and dingy hotel where they had sloppy, unsatisfying sex. Dabi couldn’t even remember her name, and he didn’t exactly care.

Clearing his throat, Dabi grunted out a loud, “Yeah. M’fine.” Smoothing his hair back and glancing at himself in the mirror one last time, he reached for the door knob and pulled open the door.

He was greeted by the blonde women who wore a lopsided smile. She had thrown on her black cotton panties that seemed to be a size too small and the light pink tank top he vaguely remembered her wearing last night, minus a bra. Her short, blonde hair was stuck to the sides of her neck with sweat, reminding him just how utterly different she was from you. Your hair was longer, always brushed and either elegantly falling down your back or neatly put up.

“Mornin’, handsome,” she purred.

“Morning.”

“I was thinkin’ maybe you and I could go down the street, grab a coffee together, maybe beat this hangover,” she crooned, reaching out to run her fingers down Dabi’s chest.

Stepping to the side to avoid her touch, Dabi grabbed his black hoodie jacket off the floor and slipped it on.

“Nah, can’t. I have a thing today.”

The blonde’s face fell slightly before she covered it up with a sneer. “Thing? What kind of thing?”

With his back still turned to her as he slipped on his black sneakers, Dabi rolled his eyes. He had neither the time nor patience for this. “Uh,” he started, “a concert thing.”

The blonde girl hummed in excitement. “That’s cool! Maybe I could go with you and we could-”

“No,” Dabi snapped, “it’s not that kind of concert. Listen, I really need to get home, so, uh, see you around,” and with that, Dabi walked out of the room, leaving the nameless blonde women alone.

 *                                                                      *                                                                               *

 It was just after 2 o’clock by the time Dabi arrived at his apartment. He hurriedly walked up the steps to the second floor, dug his keys out of his pocket, and walked into his small living room. Everything was the same as he had left it the night before; empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, a couple articles of clothing strewn across the room, and all of the thick curtains closed over the large glass windows that looked out over the city. It was dark. And lonely.

Just like it had been since you left this apartment. Left him.

You and Dabi had officially met in your last year of high school. It was by accident really, but Dabi has always thanked the God that he didn’t believe in for putting you both in the same place at the same time.

  There was a spot behind the stage in the school’s auditorium where Dabi liked to go during lunch period to smoke. ‘The Spot’ was a small corner in the postscenium behind stage, which was usually hidden behind old props and costume racks. It was cozy and secluded, and was Dabi’s favorite place to be at school. His secret spot.

That was until you found it.

 It was a Thursday when you had stumbled upon Dabi hiding behind some of the props that were going to be used in this year’s production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ When you caught him, he had the hood of his jacket pulled over the top of his head and a joint between his lips.

The sight of him had startled you a bit, because you thought you were alone. The auditorium was usually vacant during lunch period, which you thought would be the perfect time to practice the several short ballads you would be performing on your violin with the rest of the school’s orchestra on the opening night of the play.

“Oh my god,” you shrieked and stumbled backwards. Dabi’s head snapped up to survey your face, cobalt eyes wide, pupils expanded. “You scared the shit out of me,” you breathed softly, pressing two dainty hands over your racing heart.

Dabi blinked up at you with a blank expression before lowering the joint to his side and clearing his throat. “Sorry. No one usually comes back here this time of day.”

You recognized this boy. You both had English 6th period, but have never spoken to each other. He always sat at the very back and never raised his hand. Never participated in group projects. Never did anything, really.

“Yeah, um, I just came to practice a few pieces for the play. I needed to get a music rack,” you nodded toward the black iron stand perched to Dabi’s left, right behind a small, emerald green swan fainting sofa used for the production of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ two years ago.

“Ah. You in the orchestra?”

“Um, yeah, actually! First violin.”

Dabi didn’t know what “first violin” meant, but he kind of liked the way your face lit up when you said it. He hurriedly pushed himself off the floor and grabbed the music stand which was surprisingly light. “Here,” he offered.

 You went to grab it, careful to avoid touching his hand, and let out a soft ‘thank you’ before walking out from backstage to the orchestra pit. Dabi watched your retreating form and silently hoped you wouldn’t tell anyone what he was doing in there. He was already in enough trouble for skipping class so often, and didn’t need any more drawn-out lectures from his parents or more days added to his weekend detentions. Settling back down on the floor, he set the joint back in between his lips and dug his phone and earbuds out of his pocket. He had about 12 minutes left before he would be forced to go back to class. The moment he decided on a song to listen to, however, he was interrupted by the sound of a violin.  

He wasn’t sure if he liked the sound at first. It was shrill and loud and unexpected. Then, the sound began to melt into a beautiful melody and the shrillness soon became a rich and elegant sound that danced in Dabi’s ears.

Now intrigued, Dabi screwed the end of his joint into the floor and tossed it into a nearby trash bin before he pushed himself off the floor and walked out from behind the stage, where he was was met by the sight of you, softly moving your bow up and down the strings of your violin. You were standing despite the fact that there was a chair planted behind you, and your head was moving slightly from side to side in tune to the soft melody. Dabi thought the sight of you was beautiful and alluring. He had seen you in class before and walked past you in the hallways, but he had never actually known you, never actually saw you quite this way.

Sweet. Elegant. Pretty. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember your name though.

The song you were playing was coming to an end, as was lunch period and Dabi wished he had just a little more time to listen to you play. To watch you play. But then the bell rang, and it was time for you both to head to class.

You lowered your violin from your neck to begin putting the instrument and sheet music away, when the boy with the ripped jeans and messy black hair caught your eye from up on the stage. He met your eyes, but said nothing, and neither did you. You weren’t sure what you should say or if you should even say anything. You had never spoken to this boy before, and now he had just listened to you play music and was currently staring at you.

“I liked that,” Dabi blurted, shattering the silence.

“Um thanks. It’s for the play tomorrow night.” You shifted from one foot to the other under Dabi’s fierce gaze and hoped that the darkness of the theater was hiding the faint blush that was scattered across your cheeks. Dabi Todoroki had just complimented you. And it felt nice.

You stared at each other for a bit longer before you finally broke your gaze and picked up your violin case. “I should probably head to class. Ms. Hatsu hates tardiness,” you said shyly.

Dabi cracked a small smile, which you found quite lovely. “Sure. I’ll see you in 6th period then.”

 And he did see you in 6th period. Dabi had never paid much attention to his classmates before, but today was different. Today he wanted to see you sitting in the third seat in the second row. Four desks away from him. ‘Four desks too many,’ he thought. But as if the gods were listening to Dabi’s thoughts, Dabi’s literature teacher announced that today the class would be doing partner work. And without a second thought to consider his actions, Dabi rose from his seat and made his way over to you.

 You were never fond of partner work. You preferred to keep to yourself, work alone, and avoid conversing with most people. You were shy in nature, so every announcement of partner work in any class was slightly stressful to you. Finding a partner was usually more work than it was worth. Today, however, there was no need to go search for a partner to work with. Someone had already chosen you, and was pulling up a chair to your desk.

“So,” Dabi drawled smoothly as he plopped down in his seat. “Where do you wanna start.”

“S-start?” This boy who you had only met 20 minutes ago, only exchanged a few words with, wanted to be your partner?

“Yeah. You wanna start with The Iliad or The Odyssey?” He pulled out a few slightly crumpled pages of notes from his school bag before meeting your eyes and raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

“Oh, um...let’s start with The Iliad.”

The rest of the hour was spent conversing with Dabi on how each ‘hero’ of the Trojan War was really just a villain, and through this conversation, you realized several things about Dabi. Firstly, he was funny. He cracked a few jokes here and there, which made you genuinely laugh with ease. It was a nice feeling for the both of you, how easily he could make you laugh. Secondly, he was smart. He was articulate and insightful, though you sensed he was just a lazy person when it came to school work. And lastly, you were pretty sure you were now crushing hard on Dabi Todoroki. His aloof personality you and the rest of the school had always been privy to seemed to be totally foreign as he dazzled with humor and charm in front of you.

And Dabi had finally learned your name. Y/N. He thought it was pretty.

The bell rang signaling the end of class, and Dabi slid away from your desk. “One more class of the day,” he sighed as he grabbed his bag off the floor. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. You really hoped you would.

  Dabi stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. It was 3:47pm. He had just over an hour until your recital began.

He swiped a hand over the foggy mirror and peered at himself once more. The skin beneath his eyes were still dark, but he looked a little more alive now that he had showered. He was nervous. There was a sharp pain in his lower stomach and Dabi didn’t know if it was from the anxiety, he felt knowing he would see your face tonight, or if it was from his hangover. Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was just because he was scared. Scared to see you. Scared to talk to you. Scared that as soon as you spotted him in the crowd, you would dedicate the night to avoiding him and he wouldn't get to speak to you at all.

He really hoped he would get to talk to you. He hadn’t heard your voice in so long. It had been just over half a year since you two had gotten in that tense argument that had ultimately ended your relationship. In reality, your relationship had been over weeks before the fight, but neither of you were brave enough to admit it. Dabi, because he loved you and couldn't imagine living a life without you. You, because life with Dabi had become so natural that the thought of leaving terrified you. What if you regretted it? What if your life becomes directionless without him? You had spent nearly a year and a half of your life with him. He was your first love. First kiss. First everything since the opening night of your senior year high school play.

 A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite play. Shakespeare, in your opinion, was quite wordy, but you greatly admired the several love stories and humor weaved throughout the play, and tonight you would be a part of the orchestra playing for this production. You were beyond ecstatic to perform.

The first half of the play went smoothly, and you were filled with adrenaline. Something about playing your violin for a crowd of people filled you with your body with a euphoric feeling. Your chest was full, blood was rushing through your veins and your heart was pounding with pure excitement. This feeling was only magnified once you spotted a certain raven-haired boy sitting in the audience in the front row. The 30-minute intermission had just begun and Dabi Todoroki was making his way over to you as you gingerly tucked your instrument back into its case.

“Hey. You sound pretty awesome out there,” he praised.

“T-thanks,” you blushed. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight”

Dabi scratched the back of his head and looked away from you. “Yeah, well, I heard there was bestiality in this thing and I wanted to check it out.” That forced a small giggle out of you. Dabi liked that sound a lot. “Anyway, I, uh, wanted to ask you if you were thirsty. There’s a concession stand out in the hallway. Figured you and I could get a drink, maybe sit outside until the next part of the play starts?”

Your heartbeat began to quicken. Was he flirting with you? Surely not. Surely, he was just being friendly to you. Right?

“Yeah, sure! I’d love that actually.”

Dabi grinned at you. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

The air was frigid and you had, unfortunately, worn a short sleeved black dress to opening night in an attempt to blend in with the darkness of the auditorium. When the chattering of your teeth became audible and your shivering was too severe to ignore, Dabi quickly slipped his jacket onto your shoulders. It smelled like nicotine and pine wood. Just like him.

“Thank you,” you lilted, and Dabi just hummed in response. “So, why did you really come tonight?” Dabi eyed you from his spot beside you as you both sat on the large brick steps in front of the school building. “You didn’t seem too interested in Homer the other day in class, so why would you want to see a Shakespearian play?”

Dabi clicked his tongue and averted his gaze. Why did he come tonight? “I dunno,” he started. “I guess I just wanted to see you again. Outside of school. And... I like the way you play your violin. It's… relaxing.”

Your face was burning at 100 degrees. You were sure of it. “Y-you wanted to see me? Why”

“Look, I just think you’re pretty, alright. And I like talking to you and shit.”

He thought you were what? He liked doing what? “I like talking to you too,” you breathed softly. You hadn’t meant to say it. You were embarrassed enough as it was, and the slip of your tongue only made the already high temperature of your cheeks rise.

Dabi turned to look at you then. He thought you looked ethereal in that moment. Wide eyes staring back at him, expectantly. Legs dressed in tight black pantyhose crossed and angled toward him. A bright pink blush dusting your cheeks. God, he wanted to fucking kiss you.

So, he did.

He jerked forward and caught your lips by surprise, which forced you to emit a small noise from your throat. His lips were cold and smooth and unfamiliar and he tasted like smoke and mint flavored gum. His lips moved fervently, as if they were on a mission to prove something, until you moved your finger into his inky hair and pressed his face closer to yours. His lips slowed at that moment, and his movements became gentler. He wanted to tell you he liked you. He wanted to ask you out on a date. He wanted to take you to the movies or to dinner or to just drive you around in his car and talk to you. He wanted to touch you everywhere. Your face. Your chest. Your legs, your ass, your cunt. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body with his fingertips.

It was you who broke the kiss. The combination of Dabi’s lips against yours and the freezing air was making it difficult for you to breathe. You rested your forehead against Dabi’s and chuckled.

“Something funny?” he grunted and pulled away from you.

“No, no, not at all. I just never imagined that Dabi Todoroki would be kissing while we freeze our asses off.”

Dabi scoffed at that. “Yeah, well, it happened.” He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours. “And we should do it again. Tomorrow sound good?”

“Y-yeah! Tomorrow is perfect.”

Dabi’s cobalt blue eyes looked like they were glowing. You wanted to look at them longer. You wanted to watch as his eyes got closer and closer until they closed and exchanged themselves for his lips against yours. But your thirty minutes were almost up. The orchestra pit was waiting for you.

“I should get back inside. The second act is starting in a couple minutes.” You stood up then, wrapping Dabi’s jacket tightly around yourself

Dabi got to his feet alongside you and held out his hand, which you took. He led you back inside, back into the warmth, and into the auditorium where the crowd was ushering back to their seats. Dabi whispered a little ‘good luck,’ in your ear before taking his seat in the front row.

Although the orchestra pit was extremely warm due to the building’s heater, stage lights, and the amount of people that were crammed into the little space side by side, you couldn’t bring yourself to shed Dabi’s jacket until late that night when you were getting ready for bed. And even then, you used the soft red fabric as a pillow so you could keep his smell close to your heart.

 Dabi was wearing a black suit. He hadn’t dressed up in months, so the stiff material felt completely alien on his skin. His jet-black vest was slightly wrinkled due to being stuffed in the back of his closet for months on end and his ‘dress shoes’ were really just his cleanest pair of black boots. Dabi had no doubt that he would look ratty and out of place among the well-dressed attendees at your orchestra’s recital this evening, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He was used to looking like a second-rate citizen next to you anyway. You had always cared about your appearance to the next level; every article of clothing you owned was always ironed, every shoe polished, every piece of jewelry was sparkling - a complete contrast to Dabi. That was one of the things Dabi loved most about you - you had your shit together and it was always physically obvious. You were organized, driven, ambitious, clean. Everything that Dabi was not.

It was 4:23pm. Dabi had 37 minutes until the recital started, and he still needed a tie to wear. Dabi had only ever owned one tie in his entire life, and it was a tie made of deep red silk. You had told Dabi a couple days after he asked you to go with him to your senior prom that red was your favorite color on him, so he had decided to buy a red tie for your special night out.

The tie was placed in the very back of his sock drawer and was the only piece of cloth that was folded neatly. Dabi was hesitant to pull it out of the drawer. He had only ever worn it that one night. That one night where the only thing in his eyes, his nose, his head, was you. That one night where he dressed in a black fitting suit, dawning the red, silky tie you had picked out for him the week before. That one night where he felt like someone had punched him in the fucking stomach because breathing became an immense effort after you shyly walked out of your front door, dressed in a long, red satin dress, your mom following close behind with a big, flashy camera. That one night when you told him you loved him after your first dance in the decked-out school gymnasium. That one night where he convinced you to leave the school after half an hour so he could fuck you in his car. That one night where he convinced you to swallow those little blue pills he was always shoving down his throat. That one night where he whispered a barely audible ‘I love you’ into your hair as you dozed off in the passenger seat of his car, high out of your mind. Looking back, Dabi could see that, for you, prom night was the beginning of the end. Drugs and rough sex were things you just weren’t quite ready for. Prom night for him, however, was just the beginning of your relationship. He couldn't understand that the things he would do often, oxy, car sex, ditching school events, weren’t for you. In his own mind, Dabi was convinced he was showing you how to have fun. The 20 minutes he spent fucking you into the back seat of his black Camaro were heaven. You were warm and wet and your arms clinged to him as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat and he loved it. And for the next few months following that night, you thought you did too.

It was a 20-minute walk from Dabi’s downtown small apartment to The Bleu Theater. It would’ve been a measly 5-minute drive, if Dabi still had his Camaro. Dabi thinks maybe you would still be by his side if he had his Camaro.

  Dabi was royally fucked. He had promised you right when he dropped you off at Micaretta College for your first orchestra rehearsal that he would only be out for a few hours with his brother, Natsuo. He promised he wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t smoke, wouldn’t do any type of narcotic today while he was driving himself around. He was lying, of course, but he thought he would be able to handle himself. He thought he was ‘perfectly fine, Natsuo, let it the hell go,’ after downing a shot of tequila or five. He thought his high was nothing serious, despite the fact that he swallowed 3 oxys when he and Natsuo parted ways outside of the bar.

But he was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

The silence on the other end of the phone as he made his one phone call to you, mumbling that he was in a holding cell for crashing his Camaro into a government postal box because he was drunk and high and he needed to pick you up, made him nervous. He knew you would be upset - maybe sad, worried, angry - but your silence was conveying another emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on.

“Okay,” you said blankly. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You showed up to the Tokyo police station ten minutes after your phone call just like you said you would - dressed in the same black and grey mini dress you were wearing this morning when he dropped you off. He had watched you dress yourself in the bedroom you two shared in your small but cozy apartment this morning from the queen-sized bed. Watching you with tired, lazy eyes, Dabi thought you looked so fucking cute. Your hair was still pulled up in a half-hearted pony-tail from when you washed your face minutes before, and your small, dainty hands were fiddling with the metal zipper on the back of your dress. He had cheekily told you ‘you're wasting your time zipping that up, princess. I’m just gonna rip it open when you get home tonight.’

Your cheeks had been coated with a light blush at that, and you let out a small giggle, glancing at him from the mirror with a shy smile on your face.

You had looked so happy this morning. Your smile was dazzling, eyes bright and lively.

You looked like the complete opposite now. A mere twelve hours later Dabi had managed to wipe that smile from your face, replacing it with a straight, thin line. The sparkle had been washed from your doe eyes, where only a blank, empty look now held its place.

He had really fucked up.

Signatures, paperwork, and a large down payment for the fine Dabi now had to pay took almost half an hour to complete before Dabi was allowed to walk free and was given a form that he was told to keep for his court date in 14 days. And then it was time to go home.

The 20-minute walk it took to get from the police department to your home was quiet and tense. You hadn’t spoken a word and Dabi hadn’t either. He was afraid of what you would say if he tried to speak to you. Would you yell at him? Would you cry? Tell him he was a failure, a fuck-up, that he wasn’t just ruining his own life, but yours too?

He already knew all of these things. His father reminded him every chance he got. He had barely managed to graduate high school, he never enrolled in college like you had, he was unemployed, paying his half of the rent with a monthly allowance he received along with the rest of his siblings from his grandmother. Each day was spent drinking, downing pills, inhaling blow, infiltrating his skin with needles, waiting for you to get home from school so he could kiss you, touch you, love you, and pretend he had a normal life - a normal, healthy relationship.

Just like you were.

“Guess we’re gonna have to use Uber from now on,” Dabi grunted, trying to slice through the tension that was strongly swimming in the air around the two of you.

“Guess so,” you said faintly.

Dabi’s eyes flash at your flat tone. “Look,” he said, teeth clenched. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I screwed up. You don’t need to make it worse.”

In an instant, your face morphed from blank and expressionless to white hot anger. “Me? You think I’m making things worse? I’m not the one who got shit faced in the middle of the day! I’m not the one who wrecked the fucking car into government property because you couldn’t see five feet in front of you!”

“I know that for Christ’s sake! Jesus fuck, I just spent two hours in jail for it! I. Fucked. Up! Get the fuck over it!”

You held his gaze for a few more moments before looking away. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you knew he needed to hear. But you were exhausted. You were so damn tired of fighting, of yelling, of constantly wondering if your life would always consist of picking up the pieces after Dabi shatters everything in his wake. You were tired of him.

“Okay,” you sighed dejectedly. “Let’s just go home. I have orchestra again tomorrow. We both need some sleep.”

Dabi didn’t say anything in response. What could he say? He could see the drained look in your eyes clear as day. He had pulled you out of your evening class to come bail him out of jail after totaling his car. He had promised you he wouldn’t drink while he was out. That he wouldn’t pop any pills while he was out. But he did.

  The line to get into the theater wasn’t too long once he arrived at the front entrance of the large stone building. There were only about fifteen people waiting to hand in their tickets to get inside, and the process seemed like it was going fairly quickly. Dabi pulled the crumpled, grey admission ticket from his coat pocket and handed it to the usher. Watching the man dressed in a baby blue suit scan the barcode on his ticket felt like watching paint dry. He needed to get inside and sit down. His head was pounding from his hangover and his heart was racing from anxiety. He hadn't seen you in six months. Not in person, anyway. He spent plenty of time stalking your social media accounts, looking to see if you had started dating again, if school was going okay for you, if you were happy without him in your life. He didn’t find much over the past few months, much to Dabi’s dismay. The only relevant thing he was able to find out about you was that your college orchestra group was conducting a recital tonight at The Bleu Theater, and that you would have a violin solo. Dabi bought his $250 dollar ticket three months in advance the second he read the flyer you had posted on your Instagram account.

The inside of the theater was as Dabi had expected it to be. Lined with red carpet and donning two grand marble staircases The halls of the theater were littered with high society aristocrats dressed in suits and evening gowns. Although he had dressed in an evening suit, Dabi knew he looked like lower class beside these people. In that moment though, Dabi couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed. The only thing lingering on his mind was you. What you might be wearing. What he might do if he snagged a chance to speak to you. What he would say if you decided to hear him out.

He didn’t have time to think about it though. The recital was starting, and Dabi needed to find his seat, which he knew was in the second row from the stage. All the seats in the very front had already been bought out by the time Dabi had purchased his ticket, so seat J in row B was the second-best option.

Hurrying down the aisle, Dabi found his seat in between two women dressed in both green and silver evening gowns. They were older women with hot pink lipstick coating their wrinkled lips who raised their brows at Dabi as he sat in between them. The MC began his little speech, thanking everyone for attending tonight and asking them to please silence their cellphones. He announced the first player of the night, a cellist who was dressed in a long, black, lacy dress. He hadn’t remembered to grab a program from the man handing them out beside the entrance of the auditorium, but the women in green to his right had one and was currently reading through it. He glanced to her side, hoping to catch a glimpse of your name so he could prepare himself to see you for the first time since your break-up.

And there it was. Act number two. Y/N L/N, violin solo.

You were next and Dabi felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He was sure everyone in the room could hear the thump thump thump of the organ in his chest despite the rich boom the cello filled the room with. The cellist was reaching the climax of the Cadenza piece. You would be walking out of stage soon. In just seconds, Dabi would have the chance to lock eyes with you. He hoped he would be able to convey the love he felt for you, his anguish at the fact that you left him all alone in a world he felt had never accepted him, his guilt at making your life a living hell because he was too selfish to let you go the second things began to deteriorate. Deep down, Dabi had known your relationship was doomed.

Deep down, Dabi had known your relationship was doomed. That anxious, petrifying feeling of knowing the only heaven he was convinced he would ever know would one day leave him shortly after you had started your first year of college. You had gotten into your dream college, while Dabi hadn’t bothered to apply anywhere. You were working three days a week at a music store, teaching children how to play the violin. Dabi was living off an allowance, popping pills all day. You had aspirations. You were working toward a future you desperately wanted - you wanted to become a violinist for The Halle, you wanted to move to the city - you wanted to be with Dabi. But Dabi didn’t have dreams like you did. His father had instilled in him since he could form coherent sentences that he was a failure. He was a disgrace. He wasn’t even his real son. He was a product of his mother’s extramarital indiscretion - a stain on the Todoroki name. A mistake.

Dabi believed all his life that all he would ever be was a let-down. The only good thing in his life was you. Dabi Todoroki had managed to fall in love with a quiet girl who was ambitious and smart and beautiful - and just like everything else he did in his life - he screwed it up.

 “I need you to come home”

He shouldn’t be asking you that. Tonight was an important night for you - scouts for the Chordis Orchestra were in the audience tonight. Your school was putting on a production of Phantom of the Opera - your favorite musical - and you were lucky enough to be the first sophomore to play in the orchestra pit on opening night.

“What? Dabi - what’s going on?”

He felt like he was going crazy. Why were you asking so many questions? Why couldn’t you just come home? He needed you!

“Look,” he gulped as his knuckles turned white from gripping the phone. “I-my dad was here earlier and-”

“Your dad?” Dabi’s father, Enji, had never visited your home before. Dabi would never invite him and Enji would never lay out an offer. Dabi had told you a little about the issues he had with his father during late night talks where you and Dabi would lay naked in the back seat of his car, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“We got into a fight and I don’t even know what happened, I just opened my eyes and our window was busted and my knuckles were bleeding and dad was gone. I was so fucking pissed and I don’t even remember uncapping the fucking needle...but I think I took too much.”

Your blood ran cold. You hated when Dabi would use heroin. You had tried it once when the two of you first moved into your apartment together, and you never wanted that substance in your body again. You knew how Dabi could get when he took too much of one thing. He would get angry, paranoid, anxious and clingy. You were terrified one of these days you would come home and find him dead on the bathroom floor with a needle sticking out of his arm or pills lodged in his throat.

“Dabi what do you mean you took too much? D-do I need to call an ambulance!?”

“No! No, don’t call the fucking police. I’ll get charged with substance abuse. Fuck! Just come home!”

“Okay, okay, Dabi. I’m coming home, alright? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You quickly packed up your instrument, sheet music, and informed the director you would not be able to perform tonight. It was a tense conversation, as Ms. Hatsuki had given you a big opportunity to play tonight. But Dabi wanted you home. And he was more important, right?

The bursting open of the wooden door startled Dabi. He had been staring blankly at the wall, scratching at the needle scars that were riddled along his left forearm. It felt like he had been waiting hours for you to get home to him, when only a mere 20 minutes had passed before you burst into the living room.

“Dabi,” you breathed, “are you okay? You look so pale.” You rushed over to the brown sofa where he was seated and took his hand in yours. His hand was coated in brown, dry blood and there was a small gash across his knuckles. It wasn’t too bad, but he would probably need a couple stitches.

“M’fine. I think...I’m just coming down really hard. My hand hurts, too.”

Coming down too hard? How many times have you been through this? There had been several occasions where Dabi had called you while you were in the middle of class, or in rehearsal, or out with friends or family, frantically begging you to come home. Each time he made one of those calls, he worried you sick. He never sounded like the Dabi you knew like the back of your hand. He was sacred and sounded like he was close to death every time. And every time you came running, he would lay his head in your lap, tell you he’s sorry, that he wants to do better for you, and then do it all over again the next week.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. At first, it was small, tolerable things. Things you could look past because you loved him so much. In the beginning, when Dabi went past his limit, he would grow overly irritable, snapping at you out of nowhere. Then, that gradually turned into full blown meltdowns with Dabi shedding a few tears as he paced around the apartment, not sure if he was angry or scared, not knowing what he could possibly be angry at or scared of.

Then, that morphed into complete paranoia. Dabi always thought he would die when he would go past his limit, but he would never do anything to help his fears. He was always afraid you would leave him all by himself in this tiny apartment that only felt like home when you were there. He was afraid his father would finally cut him out of the family because he’s a bad influence on his little brother - because he’s a good-for-nothing junkie with no direction in life.

He was afraid of problems that only he was able to cause. Problems he couldn’t stop causing.

Your mouth set into a thin line, a sight Dabi wished he wasn’t so familiar with. “Dabi,” you started evenly. “I thought you were fucking dying. You made me leave the most important performance of my life - for what?”

Dabi’s puppy eyes quickly morphed into piercing cobalt as he scowled. “For what? Princess, I need you here. I felt like I was fucking dying, I need a little support here!”

“WHAT ABOUT ME!?” you screamed. It startled the both of you. The scream seemed to rip itself from your throat without permission. The shocked look on your boyfriend’s face almost made you back down. But you wouldn’t – couldn’t back down this time.

“What about supporting me, huh, Dabi? Week after week, I drop everything, my whole life, to come running back to you. To make sure you’re okay. You make promise after promise to stop this shit, to get clean, to get your life together so I CAN GET MINE TOGETHER! Fuck, it’s like I’m your mother instead of your girlfriend.”

Dabi watched you silently from his spot on the couch. He had never seen you so angry before, especially at him. The smack running through his veins urged him to yell back at you. To scream that you were selfish. That you can’t talk to him like that.

But he doesn’t. Because he knows you’re right.

Deep down, he knows he’s ruining your life. He knows he’s continually taking opportunity after opportunity from you - because he doesn’t want to be alone. He knows his drug induced moods are wearing on you. He knows he’s tearing your heart apart by worrying you, yelling at you, destroying you. He knows he does not deserve you. But even so, he hopes to God you won’t leave. He’s too selfish to let you go on his own - he would rather watch you crumble because of him than watch you flourish without him.

“Tonight was so important, Dabi. You know that.” Your eyes were filling with tears. Your heart felt like it was shattering within your chest. You didn’t want to. Or did you? You weren’t so sure what you wanted anymore. But you did know what you needed. “I-I can’t Dabi. I cannot do this with you anymore.”

“W-what? The fuck are you saying?”

“I’m saying I can’t stay in this relationship with you, Dabi! It's tearing me completely apart. It's tearing me apart because you’re tearing yourself apart. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t do it. I hit my limit months ago. This - us - it needs to end now.”

Neither of you said anything after that. It was strange, in a way. You expected your boyfriend - your ex-boyfriend, would beg you not to leave. Like he always did when he was paranoid and high.

Dabi, on the other hand, had always imagined, in his hazy, drunken paranoia, that he would rage if you ever tried to leave him like this. What was he supposed to do without you? He had nothing in life but you. Every day was about you; waiting for you to get home from school, cooking for you, fucking you, talking to you, living life through you. But he wasn’t angry. All he felt in those next few minutes as the two of you sat side by side on the couch for the very last time, was sorrow.

His father was right, as he always was. He destroyed everything he touched. One tiny brush of his fingertips set anything in his wake ablaze.

When you stood from the couch to go pack a bag, Dabi couldn't bring himself to look at you. He couldn’t force out a single syllable. All he could do was sit. Sit and listen as the girl he loved gathered every piece of herself and walked out of his life.

The next few weeks following the break up were the worst. You were ignoring Dabi’s texts and calls, and he didn’t even know where you were. He assumed you were staying with a friend or had moved back in with your mother - but he wished you would answer one of his texts so he could know for sure.

Dabi didn’t leave his apartment until a month after the two of you broke up. He honestly didn’t see a reason to. After he graduated high school and moved in with you, he only left the house to go grocery shopping, or buy you little gifts, or go on dates with you. Now that you were gone, what reason did he have to venture outside of his safe space?

Alcohol. Sex.

Two enticing reasons.

The first time Dabi had sex with another person after your break up, he felt like throwing up. Her voice was higher than yours, her nose was bigger than yours, the way she looked when she came on his cock was nowhere near as beautiful as yours was.

She was not you.

She was not you, and here he was, in her apartment, in her bed, kissing her, pleasing her, fucking her. He felt like he was betraying you the first few times he did it. He had to keep reminding himself that you were gone, you weren’t his girlfriend anymore. He could have sex with whoever he wanted.

After the first couple girls, the guilt and disgust melted away and morphed into delirium. If he was in bed with some girl he met at a bar, he could forget your face. If he kissed her lips in a sloppy, rushed manner, he could forget the way he felt to be touched by you. If he listened to her maddening moans as he fucked into her, he could forget the way your voice sounded, just for a moment. And that was enough for him to survive each day without you.

 It was scary seeing you for the first time in so long. You looked the same as you always had; beautiful, elegant, and perfect.

You were wearing a white, spaghetti sleeved dress that reached to the middle of your leg and your hair was curled delicately and was falling freely past your shoulders. Dabi had spent half a year without seeing you or hearing from you at all, and still, the first sight of you made him feel like he couldn’t fucking breath. Every little detail was special to him.

He could see the nervousness written all over your face. You were used to playing in an orchestra pit, away from everyone’s line of sight. You felt most comfortable hidden in the darkness, playing music that was meant to add character to a play, not right in the spotlight, playing raw music for everyone to judge you with. But Dabi also knew that this is what you always truly wanted. You wanted people to see you and hear you, no matter how terrifying it was.

You started off slow, moving your bow gently and fluidly across the strings of your violin. It was soft and melodic, and only Dabi knew that this was your signature build up - it was how you always liked to play music. Just as you were doing now, you had always preferred to start everything off slow and delicate - gradually and powerfully zipping your bow across the metal strings to create an earth-shattering sound that was somehow richer than the cello. Dabi had noticed this the very first time he ever heard you play in that empty auditorium in high school, and still now you were able to knock him out with your beautiful talent.

You were avoiding looking out into the crowd to evade stage fright. You knew that if you looked out into the human sea, you would face the possibility of choking. This was an incredibly important night. Your mom had joked before you left her house this morning that tonight would mark the beginning of your musical career. You could not afford to mess anything up.

But then you looked up. You tore your gaze from the floor and glanced out into the abyss and fount cobalt blue eyes staring intently back at you. His gaze was enough to almost make your left hand fingers falter over the notes, but you regained your composure almost as fast as you had lost it. Looking away from him seemed impossible right then. Here he was, Dabi, your ex-boyfriend, your first love, sitting in the audience, listening to you play your heart out. Why was he here? How did he even know you would be playing tonight?

A million and one questions swam through your mind. You were playing on autopilot now. You couldn’t focus on anything but him. His inky black hair was combed neatly, just as it was on prom night. He was wearing a suit and he looked completely dressed for the occasion. Your song was coming to an end and you needed to snap out of it. The ending deserved your attention. You owed it to yourself to forget Dabi, just for this second, to focus on what you had in front of you.

The floor wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Dabi was, but it was where you had to force yourself to look for the remainder of the song. It came to a finish 20 seconds later, and the applause was almost too loud for your ears. A proud grin spread across your face as you grabbed the neck of your instrument and bowed before walking back into the wings.

You weren’t sure why Dabi would come tonight. He had stopped trying to contact you three months ago after you ignored each and every one of his attempts. It was painful to even think about him after your break up. There were many times you felt as if you had made a mistake in leaving. Every memory of Dabi holding you to his chest when you would cry to try and comfort you, every memory of Dabi whispering out that he loved you late at night, every memory of Dabi kissing you goodbye as you left for class each morning, was almost enough to break you. But the fact was that you didn’t just leave for yourself. Dabi was too dependent on you. If you had continued to enable his drug habit, allowing him to think that he could be as destructive as he wanted and nothing would happen to him, he would end up killing himself. So, you stood your ground, and distanced yourself as far away from him as you could.

But he was here now. Dressed nicely, watching you on the most important night of your life. Did he want to talk? Or was he here for something else? There was only one way to find out.

Dabi had gotten up from his seat as soon as you exited the stage. He wasn’t too eager to listen to some guy play the piano for 2 minutes straight. He had only come here to see you. The air was warm and inviting outside as Dabi sat on the building’s steps and pulled out his e-cigarette. He wanted to go back in and find you, just as he planned when he first got here. Seeing you on stage tonight, however, made him think twice. You looked beautiful and vibrant. Despite the look of nervousness you wore tonight, he knew you were confident in what you could do. You smiled tonight. It didn’t look fake or forced, like it had months ago. It looked completely genuine and Dabi didn’t want to take that away from you.

You were happy without him. You were thriving without him. He needed to stay away from you.

“You’re missing the rest of the recital, you know.”

Your voice brought Dabi out of his head. He hadn’t heard your voice in so long, it almost sounded alien to him.

You stood two steps above him, still wearing your white dress. Still just as beautiful as you were on stage.

Dabi was searching for the right words to say, but he was coming up perpetually blank. He wanted to say the right thing, but he never knew what the right thing to say was.

“I, uh, only came to see one act.” You smiled softly at that, and Dabi felt like someone had shot him. He missed you. He missed you so much and your smile only reminded him of what he inevitably pushed away 6 months ago.

“Well, mister Beethoven,” you joked, “how did I do?”

You were walking closer to him and Dabi wasn’t sure if he should move away or not. He was afraid that if you got too close, he might burn you. “God, it was awful. It sounded like a tortured cat.”

A laugh tore itself from your throat as you sat beside him on the steps. “Yeah, well. That was your fault. I didn’t expect to see you out there. Caught me off guard.”

“You were great.” Dabi wanted to smile back at you, but he couldn’t. “Felt like I was watching an actual angel perform.”

It was quiet for a moment after that. Neither of you knew what to say. Why were you out here with him? Why did he come to see you tonight?

“Why’d you come tonight, Dabi?”

“I dunno, really. I just - I knew you were playing tonight. I felt like I needed to see you. I wanted to talk to you, I guess.”

The e-cigarette in your ex-boyfriend’s hand caught your attention. “Since when do you smoke water vapor? What happened to weed?”

Dabi looked down at his hands before replying. “I quit that shit a couple months ago,” he mumbled. “I didn’t like the way it made me feel anymore.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You stopped smoking pot? That’s great Dabi!”

“Thanks. I stopped with the pills and smack too.”

He what? “Wait, are you saying you got clean?”

He shrugged, not returning your gaze. “I guess. I stopped using four months ago. Fuyumi and my mom have gotten me into counseling. My therapist is helping me come up with ways to cope without drugs. The booze has been more difficult to quit though. I still drink pretty often. I’m...I’m working on being different. Like I always promised you I would. Except this time, I’m serious.”

The world halted for a moment for you. Dabi...was getting clean. He had promised you countless times in your relationship that he would try to stop. That he would be a better man for you. That he would stop using, get a job, go back to school. Each of those promises were empty, unfulfilled wishes.

But not anymore.

You threw your arms around Dabi, almost knocking him off the step. He stilled, not sure what to do. Should he hug you back? Push you off of him? He didn’t know, so he allowed you to continue to take the lead.

“I’m so happy for you Dabi. That is so amazing. I can’t believe it, I’m so proud.” There was a familiar warmth growing in your chest. The entire two years of your relationship, all you had wanted was for Dabi to get clean. The drugs, the directionlessness, it weighed on him. And, in turn, it began to weigh on you as well. “Have you thought about enrolling anywhere?”

You had pulled away from Dabi by now, but you were still sitting quite close to him, which made Dabi feel uneasy. He had wanted to be close to you like this for months, but now that it was happening, he felt anxious. What if after tonight, the two of you would go back to being strangers?

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve worked on a few applications already, but I haven’t sent anything in just yet.”

Hearing that Dabi was finally getting his shit together filled your heart with joy and hope. Dabi was trying to get sober. Dabi had come to see you tonight. And you still loved him after all this time. After everything, Dabi still owned your heart.

“I need to tell you I’m sorry.” He turned to look at you. He had been looking at everything but you this entire conversation, but he needed to look you in the eye as he said this. “I need to tell you I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I fucked up so many things for you because I was a piece of shit. I’m sorry for making you leave.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Dabi looked so different now. He looked the same as he always did, yet completely unfamiliar all at once. You had spent so many months seeing Dabi kill himself every day. His eyes were sunken in, dark circles painted onto his sickly pale skin. His lips were always chapped and split open, scratching your own lips whenever he grabbed your face to kiss you. Now, underneath the bright June moonlight, Dabi looked alive. His lips were no longer dehydrated and split. His eyes were still tired, but more alert, and his skin looked healthy.

“I left for a reason, Dabi. Not just because it was too much for me, but because I thought you needed to figure everything out on your own.”

He nodded slowly while keeping your gaze. “Is it possible to try again?”

Yes, you wanted to say, absolutely. You wanted to tell him you could pick up right where the two of you left off, but you couldn’t. Not after everything he put you through. Taking a deep breath and taking his hand in yours, you said, “how about you and I go for coffee tomorrow? We can talk things out more then.”

Dabi grinned and squeezed your hand. I have a shot. Being this close to you, knowing he would see you again tomorrow, really made him want to kiss you. Six months ago, he could grab your face whenever he wanted and capture your lips with his. But he couldn’t now. He needed to take his time with you, let you decide if he was what you wanted. He had put you through hell for so long, so he needed to let you take the lead this time.

“I’d really like that.”

To his surprise. you leaned forward and pressed your lips gently to his cheek, and then stood. “I need to get back inside, but...I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Dabi nodded furiously. “Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow morning.”

You smiled softly once more, and then turned to head back into the building. Watching you leave the night the two of you broke up made him feel like everything around him was bleak and broken. This time, as he watched you slip through the doors of the theater, he felt light things were finally a little bit brighter.

[heli0s-writes]

crystalline*

A/N: Instead of attending to the rest of my WIPS, here’s 1.6k words of Bottom Bucky and Service Dom reader. Throatfucking. Erm. Cathartic crying. 

Warnings: Bucky working out trauma. Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

You teach him how to want things again.

His pieces from the past, the joys he used to have taken too soon— you tell him he can have it all back.

It started with food, predictably. No longer being tube-fed slurry, Bucky quickly embarked on discovering all the new flavors of the 21st century.

Chocolate alone was a month-long passion as he attempted to scrub out the standard issued combat rations haunting his tongue. Chalky cuts like cold pressed gravel— fuck that. The first time you broke off a square of unroasted, dark, sprinkled with Himalayan sea salt chocolate, Bucky’s head hit the back of the couch with a pathetic mewl and a million things rushed through his mind of all the ways he could keep feeling this good.

Sleep came next— something he thought he’d had enough of, but the difference between getting perma-frosted every decade and lying face down in whatever memory foam’s made out of is lifetimes apart.

Bubble baths. Streaming apps. Nice clothes.

Attention and affection. Kisses. Braids in his hair. Tickles for extra laughs. His ego’s in overdrive because he has half a thought about anything and you’re fulfilling it like his personal genie. You say he needs all the dopamine he can get and you’re gonna give it to him.

And you give it to him in spades.

Orgasms. Jesus fucking Christ, he’s spoiled rotten.

Morning sex, afternoon sex, sex before bed. Blindsided in hallways and under conference room tables. The compound pool’s been properly christened more than once, and if Tony ever found out just exactly how many of those precious luxury cars have seen the imprint of Bucky’s ass, he’d set them all on fire.

But, reconciliation comes for him eventually. Spend long enough feeling all good he figures it was about time he starts screwing it up. He turns greedy, he starts wanting for too much. His girl’s an insatiable little beast, but even beasts have limits.

-

Bucky went shy when he asked, stuttering about how it’s okay if you didn’t—if you weren’t—it’s kinda strange— but you’d put your hand over his and tilted his chin up.

“Bucky,” you said fondly, “Baby,” and then a sweet smile curled over your pretty pink lips like spun sugar, “I’d eat your ass like a five-course meal. I’ll let you fuck me on the moon. What is it, huh?”

He could’ve kissed your dirty mouth silly.

“I want you to use a toy—"

“We do all the time.”

“—on me.”

And that sweet candy pink smile turned red hot and wicked. No limit in sight.

-

You approach the bed like a fever dream and all the blood in Bucky’s body congregates south.

Nothing on but the 2-day-shipping-because-the-phone’s-a-genie-too leather harness sitting snugly on your hips and a grin. The heaviness between your thighs hangs like both an offering and a weapon.

He asked for it. He wanted it. Just—maybe, to start— can you be rough with him. Then, stuttering once more because he doesn’t know how to justify why. It doesn’t make any sense and it’s hard to say out loud that with all the things you let him have, that after nearly a century of being out of his own body, he… wants to give it away.

He’s messed up, baby. Sick down to his rotten core.

You only shushed him. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll rough you up real fucking good. No why’s necessary.

Fleshy weight brushes against your inner thigh, swinging idly from one side to the other. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, still dressed at the edge of the mattress, skin beginning to prickle, nerves taking a hard left into arousal. When your hand finds rough landing in his hair, he thinks he must be the luckiest bastard in the entire world.  

Bucky drops on his knees like dead weight, nearly tearing off his clothes, feeling the upsurge of heat in his cheeks and chest. His eyelids are fluttering, your face going fuzzy but he can still see that look of adoration you reserve for him.

He’s pondering if that old saying is true—if there can be too much of a good thing, if he’s become spoiled sick, or if he could overdose on pleasure when you start thumbing the edge of his mouth.

“Pay attention,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Open.”

He’s tingling when you put two fingers in, moving around his tongue, scissoring them against his inner cheek. They explore for a while, bolder each passing second. He can tell you’re getting excited too, your chest heaving gradually, watching him with curious intent.

“You like this?” You ask, lip between your teeth, and Bucky nods, leaning further in, spit following the path of your hand down to his neck. You palm the cock like it’s always belonged to your body and he’s mesmerized at how it rises from your grip, moving over his face to rest on his cheek.

“It’s big, baby.” You warn, full on now. You stroke the outline of his jaw with it, leaving a burning path in its wake. “You sure?”

He quietly likes that you ask—honey-toned and patient, needing to hear it, knowing that he needs to hear it from himself. All those things he’d been made to say with his body and not with his mind.

Now he gets it back, as you said. Gets a part of himself back, too.

“Yes—ah—yes.”

Bucky’s words are slurred into your hand, but he’s begging with his eyes. Yes. I want it. Please let me. Please make me. Please fix me.

You replace your fingers, sluicing up the cock with his spit. Then, you fuck his mouth slow, feeding it to him inch by inch before dragging it away. Bucky’s lips are quivering for more, jaw slack, panting hoarsely. He feels overcome at how you stand over him, mesmerized by him, too.

“Yeah, honey,” you croon, and Bucky’s heart swells with pride. “You’re doing so well, pretty boy.”

He’s licking blindly and sucking between ragged gasps when he attempts to say your name, knowing full well he’ll never get the whole word out before you wedge back into him. And god, it’s hot. It’s dirty and filthy and so fucking sweet.

You grasp the base of his skull, keeping his head still and laying into his mouth rhythmically. The cockhead hits Bucky’s throat, pushing into the soft palate, reaching further. His eyes are rolling, whimpers catching where the toy ends, caught in the breath of air in his mouth.

“Take it, baby,” you command, and Bucky gags. One hand scrambles for your thigh, other clawing his own, pressing red crescents into the flesh. It hurts. It hurts good like it never did before and Bucky chokes it down, eyes squeezed shut now, tears prickling from the ducts and collecting at the corners.

“Oh, you’re so good,” and his body just keeps lighting up. “You good boy. You perfect, perfect boy.” And he’s nodding desperately, needy, gut coiled tight like a spring.

“So fucking dirty,” you hiss, pulling hard on his hair, “Look at you— leaking all over yourself.”

He is. He’s a goddamn mess, sticky lines of precome down his shaft and collecting at his base.

“Drooling all over my cock like this. You’re hungry for it, aren’t you?”

“Uhhngg— hnnng—” He moans weakly at the things you do to him and for him.

“That’s right, you are. Keep going, show me how much you want it.” Jesus, the way you make him feel— like he could be exactly who he is and never have to apologize for a goddamn thing. Broken and ruined but you’d still give him the whole fucking world.

The noises Bucky’s making are muffled and obscene as he fists himself, shuddering and pumping erratically. One more final drive from your hips and he’s bursting at the seams, shattering to pieces, coming with a strangled cry.

You don’t let up, taking his throat unrelentingly, watching him sob and fall apart. He’s going limp in your clutch, letting his eyes well up like pools, your smiling face so beautiful in the crystalline light.

If he’s sick, then you must be the fever he can’t sweat out. The fire burning through his bones until he’s nothing but smoldering bits of debris afterwards. Grains and soot of him floating in the steady flow of your faithful current.

When he’s made a perfect mess of himself, come-covered and quivering, you finally let him breathe again, pulling out wetly.

“There you go,” you say, kneeling to kiss his panting mouth, “Did that feel good?” 

Your lips are a cool balm on his swollen ones and Bucky hums a response, body still thrumming. “Yeah,” he sighs, sensitive like a wound, raw and open and tender. “Real— good.”

You rub his back and run your fingers through his hair, letting him rest in your arms. You wipe away the tears on his cheeks and over his trembling eyelids.

Gentle words tumble from your lips. Promises of love and of good memories to replace the bad ones. More kisses. More affection. More reclamation.

All those little granules of fractured time, you collect in the soft surrender of his mouth. Wet and salty, they fall together there, and Bucky feels himself clicking into place. Perfect and whole and treasured like an iridescent pearl.