#i could get lost inside a paper bag

[chastiefoul]

jjk men coming home and finding you crying

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort

gojo satoru

you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”

you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”

you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”

“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.

“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”

“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”

geto suguru

“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.

yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.

he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”

you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.

“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”

nanami kento

nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.

“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.

“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.

“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”

“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“

“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”

“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”

toji fushiguro

he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.

he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?

“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”

“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[chestersturniolo]

“Fine!”

Chris Sturniolo x collegestudent!reader

based on this request (warning; mentions of eating/sleeping habits)

*°:⋆ₓₒ

The coffee table is a disaster—papers scattered everywhere, books piled high in random heaps. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over your notes. Your back aching from hours in the same position as you try to cram more information into your exhausted brain. The exam is looming, and despite how tired you feel, there’s no time to stop.

You barely register the sound of Chris’s footsteps as he walks into the room. His voice is gentle as he crouches down beside you.

“Hey, babe-“ he says, placing a kiss on your cheek. “-Is there anything I can do to help?”

Without looking up from your textbook, you shake your head. “No, I’m fine” you mumble, eyes glued to the page. You flip to the next section with more force than necessary, frustrated by how little you feel is sticking.

Chris watches you for a moment, concerned. He tries again. “You sure? You’ve been at this for hours,,maybe you should take a break. I can get you something to eat, or we could—”

“Chris!” you snap, cutting him off

“I said I’m fine” The words come out harsher than you meant, but you can’t help it. You’re overwhelmed, and his hovering is only adding to your stress. You let out a sharp sigh “Yknow what, maybe I’ll be able to focus better someplace else, without you hounding me”

You don’t even look at him as you start packing up your stuff, shoving papers and notebooks into your bag with irritated movement.

Chris stares at you, hurt flickering across his face. “That’s not fair y/n-“ he says , taken aback. “-I’m not hounding you. I’m just trying to help”

You keep your head down, not meeting his eyes as you zip up your bag. You can hear the frustration building in his voice

“-I’ve been watching you study yourself into the ground for days. I don’t even remember the last time you ate or slept properly-“ he says, letting out a sigh. “-all I’ve been trying to do is help, but if you don’t want me to, fine”

You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Fine!” you spit, brushing past him toward the door.

He steps aside as you leave, his voice softer this time, tinged with disappointment. “Fine”

~~

Days passed without a word from Chris. You were too consumed by your studying to dwell on the argument, burying yourself in books and notes until your mind feels numb. The exam day finally came, and when you walked out of the hall, there was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It went well, better than you expected.

But now, the following day, nothing is left to distract you. as your curled up on your couch, the argument with Chris floods back into your mind. It’s like a fog lifting, and you realize how badly you handled things. The stress, the pressure—it made you lash out, and now you regret it. You hated how quiet the space was around you, usually filled with Chris’ voice saying something either flirty, outrageous or hilarious.

Just as you’re lost in thought, there’s a knock at the door. You groan, dragging yourself off of the couch making your way to the door.

As you open it, your heart skips a beat. Chris is standing there, a mix of emotions on his face, holding a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Chris…” you whisper, placing a hand on your chest, overwhelmed by the gesture but also the regret bubbling up inside you.

He smiles softly, almost testing the waters.

“Hey, ma… I uh- heard your exam went really well” he says, holding out the flowers toward you.

You hesitate for a second before reaching out to take them, your fingers grazing the petals as you admire them. A small smile plays on your lips as you look at the flowers, then back up at him. “Nick told you, didn’t he?” you say with a small smile and playful roll of your eyes. Chris chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, he did”

His smile fades a little as he glances down, then back up at you, his expression turning serious. “I’m really proud of you, y’know-” he says quietly. “-and… I’m sorry. About everything. I just wanted to be there for you, and I guess I should’ve given you more space”

You shake your head quickly, guilt tugging at your heart. “No Chris, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was so stressed, and I took it out on you…I’m sorry”

He steps closer, his eyes softening as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I get it. It’s been a rough time for you-“ He sighs, shaking his head slightly. “-I just hated seeing you so stressed. I just wanted to make it better”

You smile up at him, the tension between you melting away. “You always do” you whisper

He comes forward and pulls you into his chest. His familiar scent seeps into you, and for the first time in days, you feel at peace. After a moment, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile

“Come inside?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n; thankyou for the request anon!! lyly

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 2]

word count: 1756 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: bullying

[part 1]

The following days were miserable. Between dodging Matsukawa lurking outside your dorm and having to see him in most of your seminars and lectures it was hard to pretend that you didn’t care, much to the delight of the fellow students who apparently had nothing better to do or collectively lost their WiFi and were starved for entertainment. They threw glances between the two of you as if following a tennis match, although you were stubbornly pretending to follow the lesson while Issei just listlessly stared at his closed book.

He had tried to talk to you after lectures, during lunch, or when he ran into you at the convenience store but to no avail. You remained strong, frequently reminding yourself that everything from your first kiss to the first time sleeping together was solely done to win a bet. A bet! To him, you were nothing more than some easily manipulated, naive girl from a country he probably didn’t even know how to spell. The three crumpled notes from that day were still at the bottom of your trash can, unread, and now buried under more paper scraps, gum wrappers, and empty juice boxes. Your roommate hadn’t noticed or questioned why you didn’t leave in the evenings anymore to go on dates. Chances were that she had read about the whole thing online.

You were tired of it all. The initial burst of energy you felt, fueled by nothing but spite, had finally ebbed away and at this point, Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer and you ran on fumes. Having tried to deep dive into homework and assignments had left you fatigued and vulnerable, so it came to no surprise that a month after the break up you couldn’t take it anymore. You had figured that the other students would eventually move on to the next shiny thing but not so. A small group of boys and girls stood in front of the library with coffee cups steaming in their hands. You braced yourself inwardly. You just wanted to quickly return a book and then you’d be on your way again. When you approached them they interrupted their conversation to very obviously look you up and down as if judging your post-break-up fashion choices.

“I just knew there had to be a reason for him dating her.”, one of them said, deliberately loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my god, I know right? I can’t believe she fell for it. I mean, what would someone like him ever see in someone like her.”, another piped up.

“Honestly kudos to him, I dunno if I could have gotten it up with her in bed.” They laughed.

You stopped on your way up the stairs. Matsukawa stood in front of you just coming out of the building, a tattered, well-annotated book in hand and his bag half-hearted slung over his shoulder.

The group of friends gasped quietly and hushed each other, waiting.

“Y/n…”, Issei said softly, then snapped at the others, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!”

They laughed again but hurried inside.

“Y/-“

He couldn’t even finish the word. You had already turned around and walked away. And he would have let you get the space you needed if he didn’t see you cry. Readjusting his bag he slowly made his way down the steps and followed you, a couple of meters behind.

Whenever you missed your family he had tried to bring a bit of home to you with a traditional dish he knew you loved - that he usually messed up - or by watching a Disney movie in your native language while snuggling up on his bed under a blanket. But what had helped you most of all when you were upset was always a simple hug. And he never let go first. He made sure that you knew he would hold you as long as you needed. When you first told him you loved him he was wracked with guilt. He had since come to realize how messed up the whole thing was and tried to get out of it. He lied when his friends asked him if he had completed the bet but his roommate had only patted him on the back and accused him of being modest. And he, Issei, had forced a smile and accepted the money feeling like the most disgusting person in the world. The money still sat untouched in his sock drawer. He didn’t want to use it. He felt ashamed of himself but whenever he spent time with you he was weirdly glad that he agreed to the bet. Otherwise, who knows if he would have walked up to you as he had. Privately, to make himself feel better, he thought, of course he would have.

He would have noticed eventually how amazing you were.

He would have eventually seen how much you two had in common, that in all actuality you were his dream girl.

He would have. Eventually. Wouldn’t he?

Probably not, he had to admit. Ever since puberty hit him like a truck he walked around with a newfound level of confidence. This must have been what it was like for Oikawa back then - girls doing a double take and smiling when they saw him, little admiring love notes tucked quickly into his workbook when he wasn’t looking. All the attention slowly rose to his head and he became arrogant, leading to agreeing to a bet he would have punched his friends for in high school.

Hands in his pockets and breath forming little clouds in front of him, Issei’s heart broke all over again when he caught a small sound from you like a sniffle or a sob. As if on reflex his hand slid into the front of his bag to check for tissues, then remembered you probably wouldn’t accept them.

You finally came to a halt at a bench near your dorm. You spun around and stared at him icily through red puffy eyes.

“Stop following me. You know this is creepy, right?”

“I prefer to see it as romantic.”

You scoffed. “It’s only romantic if feelings are reciprocated.”

He swallowed hard. “… I deserved that.” Then he reached into his bag and retrieved a water bottle, walked a little closer, and held it out.

“Here, drink something. I can see you squinting like you do when you’re about to get a massive headache, come on.”

You had a retort ready to launch but your head was starting to pound from the crying so with a scowl you took it and gulped down a few sips.

“None of this makes what you did okay.”, you said, unwavering.

He nodded. “I know. - Can I hold you anyway? Just til you stop crying.”

His question made new tears well in your eyes and he closed the gap between you. Before he hugged you, he hesitated in case you would kick and scream if he did. When you only continued to cry he wrapped his arms around you. At first, it was like hugging a mannequin. Then he felt you shiver and sob harder and he squeezed you tighter.

This, the warmth of him, smell of him, soothing murmurs in your ear, made it all too easy to forget for a moment why he wasn’t yours anymore.

You subconsciously grabbed onto his jacket and he started slowly swaying from side to side. He missed you so damn much. His eyes began to sting.

And on reflex like he always had, he pressed his lips against your temple, then against your cheek, then your lips. You stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss. With his heart swelling in his chest, he cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears, but you were already pushing him away.

“No! You can’t just… this is not okay. You hurt me! You … you broke my heart! I feel embarrassed! And pathetic. And betrayed! Don't you understand?!”

His vision blurred and he lowered his head to stare at your shoes again to hide that he started crying as well. He just nodded at first, then took a shallow breath to calm down a little.

“I know.”, he said, his voice thick and raspy. He cleared his throat, “What I did was horrible. And immature. And there is no way I can take it back. But I do love you.”

“Tch.”

“So much. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Would you give me another chance?”, you asked suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

“If you were in my shoes. If I did to you what you did to me. Could you just get over that? Imagine if someone way out of your league started flirting with you because they thought it was funny. Because they wanted to see if they could make you fall in love. For fun.”

“That’s not… I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Please, tell me, I’ll do anything!”

“There is nothing you can do! I told you it’s over!”

“I refuse to believe that! Let me show you how much I love you! I know that some part of you still loves me, too. And I know you’ll forgive me eventually because you’re a much better person than I am.”

“I think you severely underestimate just how petty I can be and how much I love holding grudges.”, you retorted and the smallest smile twitched on his lips.

There was a pause in which his expression turned gentler again and he used the sleeve of his jacket to mop up the tears gathering on his chin. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Actually show me that you’re sorry? - And find better friends.”

“Done.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he said firmly, “You’ll see.”

“Hm hm.”, you said doubtfully and held out the bottle to him, “Thanks for the water. I should get going.”

“Book club tonight, right?”, he asked. It was still set as a permanent reminder in his phone’s calendar so that he’d come to pick you up afterward to walk you to your dorm.

“Actually… I have a date.”

You waited for a moment before you dared to look at him again. His face had fallen and he seemed at a loss for words. When you brushed past him you half expected him to grab your hand again, to try to talk you out of it. But nothing. He stood exactly where you left him and so you went inside.

tags because I genuinely appreciate all your comments and reblogs: @samoankpoper21 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[part 3]

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Run for the Hills

Prologue

Jack Hughes X F!Reader

a.n: This is definitely not one of the anticipated chapters you guys want but I'm trying to get myself back into writing, so I made a new fic to try out and see where it goes for now.

Warnings: cursing, bad jokes, frat boy humor

Word Count - 3k

The only sound in the room was her soft breathing and the occasional scratch of paper from her novel. She was so engrossed in the page, a daydream she lost herself inside that the outside world paled in comparison to.

Y/n licked her finger and flipped the page and settled deeper into the couch where she had burrowed herself into for the last three hours. The silence in the room was shattered as the front door crashed open, sending a gust of wind whipping through Y/n's hair as she looked up from her book in surprise.

"Get up and help me!" her roommate shouted, staggering through the doorway with her arms full of overstuffed grocery bags.

Y/n hurriedly marked her page and set the novel aside, springing up from the couch just as one of the flimsy bags gave way, sending a cascade of canned goods and produce tumbling to the floor with a cacophony of clatters and thuds.

"Oh no, let me help!" Y/n rushed over, kneeling down to scoop up the fallen items as her roommate kicked the door shut behind her.

"I didn't realize you'd be back so soon," Y/n said breathlessly, glancing up at her roommate's harried expression. "What's the hurry?"

Her roommate let out an exasperated sigh, shifting the remaining bags in her arms. "I ran into an old friend downtown and got roped into helping her move some furniture. I was supposed to be back an hour ago but it took forever." She shook her head, shooting Y/n an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for the mess - can you grab those last few cans while I get the rest of this put away?"

Y/n nodded quickly, grabbing the stray items and following her roommate to the kitchen. With her roommate's unexpected return and the sudden chaos, the quiet solitude of her novel-induced daydream already felt like a distant memory. “So, what did you do today? Any plans? Any new boys?” Alyssa suggested slyly.

Y/n thought for a second as she filled the empty shelves with cans. “No boys and no plans, not that its anything new.” She replied honestly, almost embarrassed to admit it. A beat of silence followed. “Actually, I’ve realized I prefer fictional men as company,” she added with a laugh.

"Ugh, boring. Why'd I even bother asking?" Alyssa groaned, dramatically throwing her head back. She paused mid-eye roll, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Wait. This is perfect actually. The Bruins are playing tonight."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, failing to see the connection. "And that matters because...?"

"Because," Alyssa drawled, hopping onto the counter with the grace of someone who'd clearly done this a thousand times before, "every basic bro in the city will be glued to their TV screens. Which means..." She drummed her perfectly manicured nails against the granite, building suspense.

"Which means?"

"The good bars will be practically empty! Come on, Y/n. When's the last time you wore that little black dress that's been collecting dust in your closet? The one with the slit that makes your legs look incredible?" Alyssa's eyes sparkled with possibility. "I know for a fact that new cocktail bar downtown, Luna, will be dead tonight. We could actually get seats at the bar, maybe talk to the cute bartender I've been eyeing—"

"Alyssa—" Y/n started to protest, but her roommate was already in motion, sliding off the counter and grabbing Y/n's shoulders.

"No excuses! Your book boyfriend will still be there tomorrow. Tonight, we're trading fictional men for real ones. And I'm not taking no for an answer." She gave Y/n a gentle shake. "Besides, I have tea to spill about that furniture-moving friend I mentioned. Trust me, you're going to want to hear this story over a proper martini."

…

Y/n stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror while Alyssa worked her magic with a curling iron, fighting the urge to retreat to her book. The truth was, it wasn't just that she preferred fictional men – real ones had become disappointingly predictable. Every dating app conversation felt scripted, every bar interaction a tepid reproduction of the last. She'd grown tired of pretending to be impressed by startup jobs and fantasy football leagues, of dumbing herself down to stroke fragile egos.

"Earth to Y/n!" Alyssa's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you ignoring me? Anyway, I’m done! Look at my handy work and tell me you don’t look hot."

Y/n had to admit, the black dress did look good, hugging curves usually kept hidden behind work attire. But even as they walked into Luna, even as heads turned to track their entrance, she felt that familiar emptiness creeping in. What was the point? No one ever made her pulse race, made her wonder what they'd say next, made her want to chase the high of their attention.

Three hours and several expertly crafted cocktails later, Y/n was actually enjoying herself – though that had everything to do with Alyssa's company and nothing to do with the parade of predictable men who'd approached their corner of the bar. She'd perfected the art of polite dismissal, sending them away with practiced smiles that never quite reached her eyes.

The bass pulsed through Luna's speakers as Y/n nursed her martini, watching Alyssa hold court at their corner of the bar. Three guys in button-downs – clearly fresh from some financial district happy hour – had been hovering nearby for the past ten minutes, shooting what they probably thought were subtle glances their way.

"Here we go," Y/n muttered under her breath, catching the familiar look of determination cross the tallest one's face as he finally worked up the courage to approach.

"Ladies," he announced, spreading his arms wide like he was presenting a TED talk. "My colleagues and I couldn't help but notice you've been drinking alone." He gestured to his friends, who flanked him with identical smirks. "We thought we'd fix that tragedy."

Alyssa straightened, flashing her practiced giggle. "Oh my god, that's so sweet of you!"

"I'm Brad," the ringleader said, then pointed to his friends who y/n couldn’t help but notice both had no socks on with their loafers. That was just the first of many icks she received that night. "This is Chase and..." he faltered for a moment, "...Tyler."

Y/n bit back a laugh. The third guy – apparently Tyler – looked slightly offended that Brad had to think about his name.

"Let me guess," Y/n said suppressing a giggle, unable to help herself. "You all work in finance?"

"Investment banking, actually," Chase jumped in, puffing up his chest. "We just closed a huge deal. Brad here's basically a genius with emerging markets."

"Bro, stop," Brad said with fake modesty, though he was clearly pleased. "But yeah, it was pretty impressive. The partners were blown away by my analysis of the—"

"The Asian markets?" Y/n finished dryly. "Let me guess, you're really into crypto too?"

The sarcasm flew right over their heads. "Holy shit, how did you know?" Tyler exclaimed. "I've got this sick NFT collection—"

"Oh my god, that's fascinating!" Alyssa cut in, shooting Y/n a warning look. "Tell us more about it!"

Brad moved closer to Y/n, mistaking her eye roll for interest. "You know, you look like a girl who appreciates ambition. I just got promoted to junior VP, and my bonus this year..." He trailed off suggestively.

"Fascinating," Y/n deadpanned. "Do you also have a podcast?"

"Actually..." All three of them lit up simultaneously.

"It's about mindset and grinding—" Chase started. "—and disrupting traditional paradigms—" Brad added. "—with a focus on sigma male energy," Tyler finished proudly.

Alyssa was doing her best to appear enthralled, but even she couldn't completely hide her wince at that last part.

"We should totally collab," Brad continued, edging even closer to Y/n. "I bet you'd love to hear about my morning routine. I wake up at 4 AM to meditate and do cold plunges—"

"Wow," Y/n interrupted, finishing her drink in one gulp. "That's incredibly..." she searched for a word that wouldn't entirely crush their spirits, "...consistent of you."

"Right?" Brad beamed, completely missing her tone. "Hey, you should check out my Instagram. I post daily inspiration quotes over pictures of wolves. The engagement is insane."

Y/n felt her soul trying to leave her body. She caught Alyssa's eye, silently pleading for an escape route, but her roommate was already deep in conversation with Chase and Tyler about their "entrepreneurship mindset course."

"Look," Brad said, lowering his voice to what he clearly thought was a seductive tone. "I don't usually do this, but I sense a real connection here. You're not like other girls."

"Oh god," Y/n muttered under her breath.

"You're obviously on that grindset wavelength. I could tell by your aura. So what do you say we—"

Y/n opened her mouth to answer when her phone lit up with her sister's ringtone. "Saved by the bell," she laughed, grabbing her phone. "I should take this – back in five!"

She headed for a quieter corner near the back of the bar, weaving between groups of people. The phone was still buzzing in her hand when someone slammed into her from behind, nearly sending her face-first into the wall. Strong hands caught her waist, steadying her, but instead of immediately letting go, they lingered – warm and sure against the thin fabric of her dress.

"Shit, I'm so sorry—" a voice said above her, close to her ear, low and touched with amusement. "Though I've gotta say, this isn't the worst collision I've had tonight."

Y/n turned, ready to deliver the kind of cutting remark she'd perfected over years of unwanted bar encounters – but the words died in her throat. The man still holding her wasn't anything like the finance bros she'd just escaped. He was tall, dressed in dark jeans and a perfectly fitted black henley that did nothing to hide the athletic build underneath. He was looking at her not with the desperate eagerness of Brad and his crew, but with an almost lazy confidence that made her pulse quicken.

"You can let go now," she said, finding her voice. "Unless you make a habit of holding onto strange women in bars?"

His hands slid from her waist, slowly, deliberately. "Only the ones who look like they're plotting escape routes." The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Though I can't blame you, if you were running from those walking LinkedIn profiles I saw you with earlier."

"You were watching me?" Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised by the little thrill that shot through her at the thought.

"Hard not to. You looked about ready to commit murder when the one in the blue started talking about his morning routine." He leaned against the wall, creating a bubble of space that felt separate from the rest of the bar. "I'm Jack. And you're definitely too interesting to be stuck listening to cryptocurrency bros all night."

"Interesting?" she challenged, surprising herself by stepping slightly closer. "You don't know anything about me."

His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “I know you're intrigued right now, even though you're trying not to show it."

Heat crept up her neck at his directness. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "That's a lot of assumptions from someone who's spent the last five minutes running away from his own problems."

"Running away?" He laughed, and the sound did something to her insides. "More like making a strategic retreat. Though I'll admit, diving behind the bar wasn't my smoothest move."

"Do I want to know why you were diving behind bars?"

"Depends." He shifted closer, just enough that she had to tilt her head back slightly to maintain eye contact. "How do you feel about blind dates, sports journalists, and elaborate escape plans?"

"That sounds like the start of either a very good story or a very bad lie."

"Buy me a drink and find out?" The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. "Unless you'd rather go back to hearing about sigma male energy and cold plunges?"

Y/n felt herself teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Jack wasn't like the others – there was something magnetic about him, something that made her want to push back, to see what would happen. He carried himself with the easy confidence of someone used to getting what he wanted, but there was something else there too – a spark of genuine interest when he looked at her that made her skin tingle.

"Counter offer," she said, meeting his intensity with her own. "You tell me the story first, and I'll decide if it's worth buying you that drink."

His smile turned wolfish. "I like the way you negotiate." He stepped even closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "But I should warn you – once you hear this story, you might not want to let me leave."

"That's a pretty big assumption," she replied, though her heart was racing. "I'm not that easy to impress."

"Good," he said simply, his eyes dark with promise. "I like a challenge."

…

"So about that blind date," Jack started, leaning against the wall beside her. His sleeve brushed against her bare arm, sending electricity through her skin. "My teammate thought it would be hilarious to set me up with his cousin – didn't mention she's also a sports journalist who's been trying to get an exclusive with me for months."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "And running away was your sophisticated solution?"

"Hey, I made it three whole minutes before I spotted her voice recorder in her purse," he laughed, running a hand through his already disheveled dark hair. "Though I'll admit, diving behind the bar and army-crawling my way to this corner wasn't my proudest moment. The bartender's face was priceless though."

"You did not," Y/n gasped, eyes widening with delight.

"I absolutely did. These jeans?" He gestured to his knees, where sure enough, there were slight wet marks. "Casualties of war. But hey, it led me to crash into you, so I'd say it was worth the dry cleaning bill."

The way he looked at her when he said it made her stomach flip. There was something magnetic about him – the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he seemed genuinely interested in her reactions, the subtle way he'd shifted closer as they talked.

"So what's your story?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. "What's a girl who clearly doesn't want to be here doing in a bar on game night?"

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?"

"Because you've been watching everyone like you're taking mental notes for a novel. Like you're observing rather than participating." His observation was so accurate it caught her off guard. "Until now, at least."

Before Y/n could respond, a familiar squeal cut through their bubble.

"There you are!" Alyssa's voice rang out as she materialized beside them, her eyes widening as they landed on Jack. "Oh my god, Y/n, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Y/n felt her walls slam back up, recognizing the predatory gleam in her roommate's eyes. She'd seen it before – countless times. Alyssa had a way of commanding attention, of making herself the center of any interaction. And men always noticed her first, or noticed her eventually. It was an unspoken pattern in their friendship that Y/n had learned to accept.

"Jack," he offered, politely extending his hand to Alyssa, though his eyes flickered back to Y/n.

"I'm Alyssa, Y/n's roommate and best friend," she gushed, placing her hand in his and holding on a beat too long. "You look so familiar. Wait – oh my god, are you Jack Hughes? The hockey player?"

Y/n's stomach dropped. Of course he was someone famous. Of course this moment, like all the others that had promised to be different, would end the same way.

"Guilty," he admitted with a slight grimace, still trying to maintain eye contact with Y/n even as Alyssa positioned herself between them.

"This is crazy! I was just telling Y/n we needed to come out tonight because of the hockey game. I'm like, your biggest fan. Y/n doesn't follow hockey at all, isn't that funny?" Alyssa laughed, touching his arm.

Y/n watched as Jack tried to navigate the conversation diplomatically, occasionally attempting to include her, but Alyssa was a force of nature when she wanted something. She felt herself backing away slightly, the familiar role of wallflower settling back over her shoulders like a well-worn coat.

"I should probably check on that missed call," she said quietly, though she doubted either of them heard her.

As she turned to leave, she caught Jack's voice, sharp with what sounded like frustration. "Actually, Y/n—"

But Alyssa cut him off. "Oh my god, we should totally get your number. For like, future game tickets and stuff?"

Y/n didn't stay to hear his response. She'd seen this movie before, knew how it ended. She made her way back to the bar, signaling for another drink, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. For a moment – just a moment – she'd felt something real. Something that made her want to lean in instead of pull away.

But real wasn't for girls like her. Real was for girls like Alyssa, who knew how to claim what they wanted without hesitation. She raised the fresh glass to her lips, determined to wash away the lingering warmth of possibility.

She didn't notice Jack's eyes following her retreat, or the way he barely registered Alyssa's number in his phone, or how his jaw clenched when he realized Y/n wasn't coming back.

[javiscigarette]

Peaches n' Cream

Joel Miller x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)

Summary: You like peaches and Joel like watching you eat them.

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, established relationship, (semi) public / outdoor sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), ass play, spitting, choking sliiightt daddy kink, one mention of Joel being pick up reader (but tbh he's strong af he can pick anyone up), absolutely no plot here Joel is just depraved and in love <3

w/c: 6k of pwp : )

a/n: I'm back!! And LISTEN! I knowwww I said Javi was next but the grip this man has on me is unreal and the peaches at the farmers market got me thinking about things!! Pls let me know if you liked this and my asks are always open to chat!!

my masterlist

The little stand was set up on the side of the road, just one old farmer and his tall piles of crates filled to the brim with peaches.

Images of you in the grocery store a couple weeks ago flash in Joel’s head, standing in front of the display brimming with peaches with your arms crossed over your chest and your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. 

“They’re not the good ones” 

“They look fresh” Joel states as he takes turns squeezing each peach to test the firmness. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”

“It’s still May” you replied

Joel just looked at you, eyebrows pinched together and completely lost on the point you were trying to make. 

“They won't be as sweet. They're the best at the end of June” you answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Sorry, not caught up on my peach facts I guess” 

You just roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Joel amused at how intensely you felt about the little fruits. 

But now it’s the last week of June. And as soon as he sees the stand there’s a rush of excitement thinking about the big smile you’d have for him when he walked through the door with a bag of fresh peaches. 

He pulls onto the shoulder of the road and parks his truck behind the line of the four other cars stopping for the same reason. The Texas sun is beating down on him, sweat prickling on the back of his neck in mere seconds as he waits patiently for the people in front of him to have their pick.

And when it’s his turn, he takes his time because of course it has to be perfect for you. He wasn’t looking for another peach lecture. 

“How d’ya pick out the ripest ones?” he asks the farmer. 

He listens carefully as the other man tells him how to spot the best ones, taking mental notes on everything from the ideal  firmness to the hue of the skin, even down to the smell. And he took the advice on getting a few that were ready to eat today and a few less ripe ones that you could eat a few days from now. After a few more minutes, he’s walking back to the truck carrying a paper bag filled to the top with peaches. 

When he gets home, he grabs a beer from the fridge then rinses the biggest peach from the bag under the kitchen tap. He has a direct line of sight through the window above the sink to where you’re laying out on the pool chair, the sight of you in your little skimpy bikini sent a little tingle down his spine. 

“Hey, baby” Joel calls out, shielding his eyes from the hot Texas sun. You turn and face him with a grin as he walks over to you. 

“Got something for you” Joel announces with a smile, holding out the peach to you. 

Your face lights up exactly how he imagined it would. But it’s a thousand times better in person. The way you smile so big that the corners of your eyes crinkle and the way your eyes  twinkle with amazement makes his heart swell in his chest. 

You scramble to sit up and take the fruit out of his hand. He strokes your hair then leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the lounge chair next to yours. 

“Where’d you get these?” you ask, lifting up your sunglasses to get a proper look. “They look perfect” 

Joel laughs, trying not to puff out his chest in confidence. 

“That peach stand up the road is finally open” he answers. “Got a whole bag for you inside” 

Joel chuckles again at your  small squeal of excitement as you  shoot up from your seat and bounce over towards him. You stand between his spread knees and lean down to kiss him. 

His heart feels warm and gooey in his chest as he kisses you, his hands immediately finding the back of your thighs, your skin so warm from sitting out in the sun all day. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, his head spinning a bit when he tastes your strawberry chapstick mixed with a hint of chlorine from the pool. His grip on your thighs tightens slightly and he sighs with delight when you part your lips and let him in, his heart melting when he feels you smile against his lips. 

He stays in the moment for a few more seconds before tapping your thigh and pulling back. 

“Try it. Wanna see if you like ‘em” he says before reaching for his beer sitting on the small side table. 

Joel’s heart skips a beat when you bite your lip and smile as you sit back down on your chair, facing him and crossing your legs underneath you. 

You sink your teeth into the reddish skin of the perfectly ripe peach. The sweet nectar immediately floods your mouth, so juicy that it quickly starts running past your lips to drip down your chin and over your fingers. You moan softly in delight, your eyelids fluttering shut at the taste. 

“It’s perfect” you say around a mouthful of peach. 

You take your time, savoring each bite. But to Joel it feels like you're on a mission to kill him on the spot. 

He has a death grip on his beer bottle as he watches you, groaning quietly when a few drops fall onto your bare legs. You, none the wiser, giggle innocently at the mess you’re making before taking another bite. More juice spills over your knuckles and trickles down your fingers to your wrist and forearm, the small rivulets twinkling on your skin in the sunlight. 

 Joel is about to pass out. 

He takes a few gulps of his beer, downing almost half the bottle in one go before setting it down on the small table between the two chairs. 

“C’mere, peaches” Joel says, patting his thigh. 

You happily oblige and get up to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

“You wanna bite?” you ask with a sweet smile. 

“Don’t need a bite, baby” Joel responds, reaching to grab your forearm. “Got my own right here.” 

He brings his lips to your wrist, pressing gentle kisses to your sticky skin and licking up the sweet juice. You giggle when the hairs of his mustache and scruffy beard tickle your skin, the sensation sending a a hot wave of arousal washing over you, head to toe. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he kisses up your wrist to the back of your hand, placing a wet kiss to each of your knuckles before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at you again. 

A lopsided, dopey grin spreads across his face at the sight in front of him. You’re looking back at him through hooded eyes, the apples of your cheeks dusted pink as a dazed smile tugs at the corner of your red, wet lips. 

“Finish” Joel commands simply with a crooked smile. 

And you do. You go back to finishing the fruit while Joel’s gaze falls to your legs. He runs a thumb over the sticky drops of juice on your thigh, using his thumb to rub it into your warm skin with slow circles until the liquid dries up. He then switches to sliding his calloused palms up and down your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edges of your swim bottoms with every pass. 

Sitting in the sun all day already made your brain hazy and Joel’s dilated eyes boring into you aren’t exactly helping. Neither is his bulge twitching against your clothed core with every slurping and sucking sound you make as you let the juice run freely over your knuckles and down your chin, no longer caring about the mess. 

When you finish, Joel promptly plucks the pit out of your hand and sets it on the side table. He then turns back towards you and brings his thumb up to wipe up the drop of juice at the corner of your mouth. 

“Was it good, sweetheart?” he asks, sliding his thumb between your lips.

 Your eyelashes flutter as you immediately roll your tongue over his thumb, sucking the juice off before nodding slowly. You let him press down your tongue, his eyes wide and glued to your lips before you pull off his finger with a wet pop. 

“Delicious” you say with a sated smile. You lean forward, until your lips are inches away from his. “You wanna taste, daddy?” 

You giggle when he groans quietly underneath you.

“S’that even a question? ‘Course I do, peaches.” 

The next second, his hand is curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you down for a deep kiss. He doesn’t just get a taste. He devours you like a five-course meal, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth to chase the intoxicating taste of the fresh peach, chlorine, sun, sweat and you. This time, he bites at your lower lip and gently tugs, pulling a small whine from you. You tangle your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and he  groans softly when you move your hips against his, dragging your aching core over the bulge in his jeans. 

“Gotta have you, baby” Joel mumbles against your lips, too desperate to pull away for even one second. “Need you right fuckin’ now.” 

“Out here?” you ask breathlessly, not bothering to pull away either. 

Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, with his lips still on yours, he reaches between your bodies and tugs down on a cup of your bikini top until your breast falls out, letting you know that yes, he needs you right now, out here. 

“Daddy…” you say tentatively, finally pulling away from the kiss. He doesn't even bother looking up, completely ignoring  you as he tugs down the other cup. 

“Joel!” you gasp, the sound quickly followed by a giggle as you try to squirm out of his grasp, but the strong he has wrapped around your waist keeps you firmly in place. 

He wasn’t exaggerating. Not in the slightest.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby” Joel mumbles, his lips vibrating lightly against your skin. You move in his lap again, but this time you’re not trying to get away. He’s rock hard now, and you grind down harshly, already growing desperate  from his primal need for you. 

He moves to swirl his tongue over your nipple then brings up his hand to pinch the other one, groaning softly as you grind down on him with your fingers tightening in your grasp in the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and holding his head against you. 

“Joel” you start, your voice already trembling. You’re just putty in this man’s hands. “W-what about the neighbors?” 

Joel was not a stupid man. Sure, he doesn’t - used to not - know much about the damn peaches, but he had at least been blessed with enough forethought to build a fence tall enough to make sure that the nosy neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you out here. 

He doesn’t look up, just mumbles against your skin “no one can see in, angel. Promise.” 

“I know but what about the sound?” you ask, still grinding your hips softly against his. 

Joel chuckles, warm air fanning over your chest before looking up at you. His fingers leave your breast and trail down the side of your rib cage, his feather light touch making you shiver before he unceremoniously slips his hand beneath the elastic of your swimsuit, cupping your pussy in his hand. The heel of his palm presses against your clit as his fingers press against your already dripping seam. 

“Doesn’t seem to be botherin’ you too much” he says softly, his lips curving in a grin.

You whine and tug on his hair, almost forgetting why you even stopped him in the first place. His eyes fall back down to where he’s cupping you, mesmerized by the way your hips move as you grind against his hand, your juices already leaking onto his palm. 

“Needy little thing, aint ya” 

You stop moving and glare at him.

“Says the man that nearly creamed his pants watching me eat a piece of fruit”

Joel just shrugs shamelessly with a carefree smile. 

“Do you wanna stop?” Joel asks, circling your aching hole with the pads of his two fingers before sliding them in slowly. He’s quick enough to swallow his own pathetic whimper when he feels you clench wildly around his fingers. “‘Cause I’ll stop right now and we ca-” 

“No.” you reply firmly, reflexively tugging on his hair. 

“That’s my girl” Joel smirks and curls his fingers to press right up against the spot that has you instantly moaning, the one that he never struggles to find.  “So good for me, huh?” 

You nod weakly, biting your lip to try and  stop some of the noise you’re making. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of you the best he can with the limited range of motion, obsessed with the soft sound tumbling past your lips. He dives back down to latch onto your nipple again, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak.

You grind down hard against his hand and your skin grows hotter under the summer sun, every inch of hot and buzzing. You move your hands from his hair, one curling around the back of his neck, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. His neck is damp with sweat under your palm and his black t-shirt feels like it’s about to catch on fire. 

“Off” you whine pathetically and pull at his shirt, now desperate to feel every inch of his skin. 

He ignores you at first, too busy switching to your other nipple and teasing it between his teeth, too absorbed in the feeling of your slick running down his fingers and into his palm like warm honey. But yanking on his hair brings his attention back to you. 

“So impatient” Joel mumbles, sliding his fingers out of you and his hand out of your swimsuit before snapping the elastic against your hip. You watch with wide eyes as he sticks two wet fingers in his mouth letting out a soft groan while his eyelids futter slightly at the taste. 

He then pulls the fingers out of his and looks up at you. But you're looking somewhere else. You’re eyes are still glued to his fingers, now shiny with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. He follows your gaze and wiggles his fingers slightly. 

“Does my baby want a taste?” Joel asks with a smirk. 

You nod your fervently nod your head and whine a pathetic “please” 

“Can’t so no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart” 

He brings his wet fingers up your lips and you don’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping your lips around his two digits and sucking hard. The two of you sigh in unison, Joel pushing down on your tongue as you roll your tongue around, cleaning up the mess as best you can. 

His jaw is slack and  hanging open as he watches you in amazement. He slides his fingers back a little further, grunting when you start gagging slightly. 

“Such a pretty sound” Joel whispers. He shoves his fingers further back, eyebrows pinched together in concentration. You gag again, harder this time, drool now leaking past your lips and his fingers. His cock pulses in his jeans so hard that it nearly hurts. 

“Baby” he starts, pressing down particularly hard on your tongue, moaning quietly as your mouth floods with more saliva. He then hooks his fingers over your bottom teeth and tugs down, forcing your mouth open. He stares at your wet lips with eyes hooded before talking again. “Daddy needs you, sweetheart”

You moan softly and slide off his fingers. 

“How d’ya want me?” you ask innocently

“Take these off,” Joel says, thumbing at the waistband of your swimsuit. “Then lie down for me babydoll” 

You whimper softly, and move off his lap to stand up, fully untying your bikini top and shimmying out of your bottoms. Your eyes are glued to Joel the whole time though, watching hungirly as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the vast expanse of his back. He unbuckles his belts and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his thighs just enough to get his cock out. 

You do as you’re told, propping yourself up against the back of the chair with your legs stretched out in front of you. Joel wastes no time getting settled on his stomach between your legs, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your glistening cunt to the summer sun.

“God, baby” Joel sighs at the sight, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He brings a hand up and uses two fingers to spread your lips to see your hole clenching around thin air.  “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

You whimper softly and gently roll your hips up, chasing after his touch. Joel looks up at you and smirks as he prods at your entrance with his finger tips. JJoel shushes you and presses a kiss to the space just below your navel, then kisses a trail over to your hip and down the top of your thigh. He kisses the tacky  spot on your thigh, kitten-licking at the sugary spot of dried juice. Then he slides a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and over your shoulder before wrapping his arm over the top, effectively locking your thigh in place. 

Your hands find their natural resting spot in his hair, fingers tangling in the brown curls that are burning hot from the sun. He’s making progress towards where you need him most, placing hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh, pausing frequently to nibble and suck at the delicate skin. You can already see the smug look on his face he’ll have when he finds the little marks and bruises in the morning. 

With no warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your slick folds, hungrily lapping at your aching cunt.  Joel absolutely devours you, his face buried between your legs, so eager to taste you, to drink you down and make you scream. 

You reflexively try to buck your hips, but the arm he has wrapped around your thigh keeps you down, his fingertips digging into your skin as he holds you right where he wants you. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the chair when he feels your thighs tremble against his face and then again when you pull on his hair, sending tingles from his scalp down to his toes. 

His tongue teases your leaking hole, your walls clenching desperately as he dips his tongue in and out before moving to your clit. He sucks the swollen nub between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, waiting until you let out a whine or moan before moving back to your hole to repeat the process. It’s like he’s starving and you’re the first thing he’s tasted in days. 

Lewd, wet noises of Joel slurping you down like you’re his last drink ever create a mirror image of the sounds you made while eating the peach only five minutes ago. The sounds mix with your moans and high-pitched whines,  Any and all reservations you had about the neighbors hearing you completely gone.  

 Just from the way he’s eating you out, greedily taking everything you give him, tells you how much he needed you. It’s so passionate and raw that it makes your head spin. You can hear your blood roaring in your ears as your skin feels raw and electrified like an exposed wire as a heat start pool in your lower abdomen. And you’re guessing by how your slick is dripping down your thighs already that he can tell how much you need him. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of release, your chest heaving with every gulp of air. Joel notices how your moans are getting louder and more frequent, so he slides the hand that’s not wrapped around your thigh down to your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. 

He smiles against you when you reward him with a long loud moan with your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady rhythm, slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you, a direct contrast to the ravenous pace of his tongue. The sounds he’s pulling out of you go straight to his cock, but he barely registers the building pressure, too focused on taking care of you to think about himself for even one second. 

You cry out when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curling them so they perfectly nudge against your g-spot every single time he pushes in. Your back arches away from the chair and you start rolling your hips against his face, holding his head in place as you do so. 

“Give it to me, angel” Joel murmurs into you, the vibrations and his warm breath adding to the pleasure that’s quickly building up. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my fingers. Wanna taste it, baby” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re so hot, almost every square inch of your skin damp with sweat and you can’t tell if it’s more from the heat or what this man is doing to you, probably just an intoxicating mixture of both. You look down at him to find that he’s already staring up at you, watching you intently with hooded eyes as you start to fall apart. 

Your gaze drifts to his back, and you can’t help but gawk at the muscles flexing smoothly under his tan skin that’s gleaming with sweat. The sight alone causes the pressure to build even more and Joel groans when your legs start trembling on either side of his head. He doubles down on his effort, his tongue flicking wildly at your clit as he presses his fingertips harshly against your spot that has you seeing stars. He lays the palm of his free hand on the space just below your navel and presses down, adding sudden, intense external pressure that makes you cry out loud. 

“Oh fuck daddy I - shit  I’m gon-”

You can’t even finish the sentence before you’re flying off the edge, hips lifting off the chair as you shove his face even further against your core. Sounds of pleasure flow freely from your lips as you grind against his face, the stubble of his beard rubbing your sweaty inner thighs raw. Joel watches you the whole time as your slick gushes out of your hole and onto his chin and around his fingers. 

He works you through it, grunting and moaning while keeping his mouth glued to you, following you as you writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up until you’re whimpering and squirming away from the overstimulation. 

“Goddam, baby” Joel rasps, his voice thick with his smooth southern drawl. He presses a gentle kiss to your hypersensitive clit and whispers “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Could give that farmer and his peaches a run for their money” 

You giggle breathlessly. Your limbs are relaxed and heavy as you melt against the chair while Joel moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. He  takes advantage of how soft and pliant you are, easily manhandling you to flip over and put your ass up in the air with the side of your  face pressed against the chair cushion. 

He palms at your ass and grips handfuls of both cheeks before spreading you open so you’re on full display for him. He groans quietly seeing your hole clench around thin air, a thin string of your slick dripping from your lips. 

“So beautiful, baby” Joel mumbles, dragging a single finger through the mess between your legs. You whine at the praise and wiggle your hips, your way of asking him to get on with it already. 

“S’okay, baby” Joel soothes, rubbing a palm over the curve of your ass. “Gonna give you what you want” 

Joel gathers the spit in his mouth before leaning over a bit and letting it drip down to where he has you spread open. He groans softly, watching the warm liquid land on your asshole and slide down to pool at your leaking entrance. You obviously don’t need any extra lubrication but Joel’s obsession with claiming you as his and getting you all messy like this is no secret. 

You both moan when he nestles his cock between your cheeks, sighing heavily as he rocks his hips and gently glides his cock through the wetness. 

“This what you want, sweetheart?” Joel teases, notching his tip at your entrance. “Or should I fuck this tight little hole? Haven’t played back here in awhile”

Your high-pitched whines turn  into desperate moans when he spits again and spreads it over the tight ring of muscle with the pad of his thumb. You make another pathetic noise and push your hips back again. 

“You’d take anything I gave you wouldn’t you, angel?” Joel coos, pressing his thumb past the tight ring of muscle. “Could take your sweet pussy or tight little ass whenever I want and you’d just be so grateful, huh baby?” 

“Yes daddy just– please I just need you inside me” 

Joel hums approvingly. 

“Yeah I know you would, baby” Joel sighs, watching your tight hole swallow the tip of his thumb with stars in his eyes. “Always so desperate for me to fill you up and stuff you full of my cock, isn’t that right?” 

You whine in frustration as Joel slides his cock through your folds again, rubbing the warm, swollen head of his cock against your clit. 

“Please, daddy. Please please I want it so bad fuck me pl-” 

You cut yourself off with a wanton moan when Joel fully sheathes himself inside your aching cunt in one swift, sudden movement. 

“Sound so pretty when you beg like that” Joel chokes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as he wills himself to stay still while you adjust to his size. 

It’s hard though, especially with your dripping walls spasming around his cock and your asshole squeezing his thumb. 

“Jesus honey” Joel groans as he pulls your hips back onto him just to get a little bit deeper. His cock pulses inside of you when you whine his name and clench wildly around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezin’ me like that” 

“Move” you groan. “God daddy please move” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. 

Immediately he pulls out just until his tip catches on your entrance before slamming back inside. You cry out at the sudden, intense force, your hands scrambling and searching for purchase on the fabric of the chair. You try to crawl up on your forearms, but his strong hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down, your cheek smushed against the chair. 

Joel growls from behind you as he quickly works up to a devastating pace. His eyes flit back and forth from your face, screwed up in pleasure, to where he’s pounding into you, both of your holes raw and stretched out around his cock and his thumb. 

“Fuck you take it so well, baby” Joel grunts, his hand landing harshly on your ass. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I give you” 

He leans over, his palm sliding from between your shoulders to the back of your neck. The position pushes him even further inside of you, his tip pressing against your cervix with every stroke. 

“Nghh fuck daddy, you’re so deep!” you cry, gasping wetly while his fingers splay over the front of your throat. 

“Fuck yeah I am” Joel growls, his thumb now pressing firmly against the side of your neck, his fingertips squeezing the other side. “This cock was made to fuck you, sweet girl” 

He gradually increases the pressure on your throat, his cock pulsating when you clench down on him as he slowly constricts the blood flow to your brain. There’s not a single worry in your head. The hand around your throat is a reminder of his dominance over you but also serves as a symbol of the trust between the two of you. It’s almost a silent way of saying “let go, I’ve got you” 

And you do let go.

You moan uncontrollably as he continues to pound into you, your head quickly growing light and fuzzy.  His fucking you with no reservations, making every inch of you skin tingle with pleasure. But you can’t resist the temptation to push your hips back, meeting his thrusts halfway. And judging from the sound of Joel’s moan, you know that was the right choice. 

“Oh god, that’s it, sweetheart. Lemme see you fuck yourself on my cock” 

You follow his orders, the muscles in your thighs and hips already burning from the sheer amount of effort you're exerting. Your mouth hangs open, drool leaking out onto the white fabric of the cushion as you whimper and whine while for him. He watches, completely focused on the way your body moves for him, panting heavily with his thumb still stuck in your ass. 

“Better be quiet, angel,” Joel warns through clenched teeth. “Unless you want them to hear.” 

He hisses when you clamp down around him and thrust your hips back, forcing his length deep inside of you. Joel chuckles breathlessly and leans down until his face is inches away from yours, his grip lightening up on your throat. “Oh you like that idea, don’t you?” 

You try to open your mouth and say something, but he starts squeezing your throat again, laughing darkly when your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Dirty fucking girl” Joel whispers roughly, snapping his hips harder against yours if even possible at this point. He wiggles his thumb in your ass for good measure. “Wants the whole neighborhood to hear how well her daddy fucks her, huh baby?” 

The sound of it all is obscene, your moans,  the rhythmic slap of his pelvis against your ass, and the squelching of your dripping cunt as he fucks you senseless. For a brief second, your mind wanders to all the women in the neighborhood, so indiscreet with the way that they ogle at Joel at all the neighborhood cook-outs and bonfires and you think to yourself: yeah, they can fucking listen. 

Joel places a wet kiss to the nape of your neck before straightening up again. His hand abruptly leaves your throat, leaving you gasping and whining at the loss. 

“God you’re such a fuckin’ slut for it” Joel rasps, his hand gripping your hip again. 

Your head feels thick and stuffy, thoughts floating around like syrup in your brain. The only thing you can think about is Joel’s cock driving in and out of you, dragging so deliciously against your g-spot while he keeps his thumb firmly in your tight asshole.

He uses two fingers from his free hand to prod at where he’s splitting you open, gathering some of your slick and dragging it up to your clit. He groans at the heavenly sounds that start falling from your lips as he rubs quick circles over the sensitive nub. 

You’re an absolute mess at this point, completely at his mercy as he pounds into you. Your hips jerk involuntarily against him as he continues to rub your clit ferociously, making you writhe underneath him. His touch only adds to your pleasure, pure bliss engulfing all of your senses. 

“Please daddy” you whine, your words slurring together. “Please I wanna cum” 

“I know, baby. Can feel you clenchin’ around me'' Joel coos. “S’okay sweetheart, I want it. Soak my fuckin’ cock with it” 

Your whole body tenses as you reach your release, your walls grip him so impossibly tight as he fucks you through it, his fingers on your clit not slowing for even a second

“That’s it, baby.” Joel praises as you shake underneath him, the sounds you're making, has his cock throbbing inside of you, his eyes rolling back at how tightly you squeeze his cock and his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ tight when you cum on me. So fuckin’ tight” 

He’s not far behind you, the way your body reacts to him driving him absolutely wild. His fingers move from your clit to grip your hip and he slams into you with a newfound strength, chasing after his own release. 

“Fuck, honey you’re gonna make me cum” he grunts, his eyes glued to your holes fluttering around him. 

“Yes, daddy please cum” you manage to whine desperately, eager to have him fuck you full of his cum until it’s dripping out of you. 

Your begging sends him over the edge and his pace falters then stops completely. The sounds of his loud moans as he spills inside of you sends a pleasant wave of warmth down your spine. It feels so divine, the way he throbs inside of you as he shoots rope after rope cum deep inside of you. 

He stays there for a few moments, buried deep inside you while he catches his breath. Once his breathing evens out, he gingerly removes his thumb from your ass, his cock twitching pathetically at the way your tight hole grips onto him as he pulls it out. He then slides his cock out and collapses on top of you, careful not to completely crush you. 

He’s burning hot, his sweaty skin sticking to your eyes as the sunshine beats down relentlessly on the two of you. But you don’t give single fuck. He rests his cheek between your shoulder blades, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart.” Joel whispers, his breath fanning over the back of shoulder. 

You hum happily in response, too blissed out to say much else. You lay there for a few more minutes until the sun makes things unbearably hot. Joel then moves to stand up and shimmies out of the jeans that he never fully took off. 

You turn your head to look at him, using your hand to shield your eye from the sun. 

“You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in that fence” you chuckle, eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body. 

Joel laughs out loud and tosses his jeans on the chair. 

“Baby” he starts, reaching down to roll you over onto your back. “You know the only reason I agreed to building that fence and this goddamn pool in the first place is because I want to see you naked inside of it” 

You have no time to react before he’s scooping you up in his arms. 

“Joel Miller! Put me down!” you shout between giggles as he carries you over to the edge of the pool. 

“It’d be my honor” he says before dropping you into the water. 

The cool water is a shock to your fucked out system, but it’s such a relief from the heat. And if anyone else did that, you’d be fucking livid. Anyone else. But it’s Joel. And the way that he jumps in after you and then wraps his arms around you as he giggles in your ear makes you absolutely melt, just like it always does. 

Thank god for peach season. 

Thank you for reading I love you guys sm :')))

[impactedfates]

"Fighting over the bill" - Aventurine x GN!Reader

★ Summary: Aventurine w/ a gift giving S/O who refuses to let him pay for anything :3

☆ Characters Included: Aventurine (Romantic) + IPC (Supporting)

★ Genre/Trope: Established Relationship + Crack (?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Aventurine may be OOC // Not proof read // Bullet Point format // Short // I think I lost track part way through so uh, sorry

Aventurine stares blankly at you as he watches the credits he was about to give to the cashier slowly fall to the ground. You stare back unblinking as you slowly hand over your own credits to the cashier who awkwardly takes it.

"...You know, the person who asked the other out usually pays"

"And?"

"...And I asked you out so I should've-"

"Well...I wanted to pay. You can pay next time"

You quickly reply, not giving much room to negotiate, not like he could've done anything. The cashier had already taken your money, he could only sigh and chuckle as he goes to pick up the forgotten credits on the ground.

"Well, I hope that means our first date was satisfactory"

He smiles, noticing your eager nod. He'll make sure he pays next time, he has a ton of credits to spend anyways

"WAIT, DON'T LET THEM PAY"

He calls out as he tries to reach you quickly. it was your guys second date, despite your statement that he could pay this time, when you left to get ready he noticed you walking to the front to pay. The person at the counter could only laugh, taking your card.

"Too late, sorry sir"

You smiled triumphantly at him, a sneaky smile on your lips. He shook his head in response, oh how he wished he could playfully lecture you on paying for him again when he should've paid this time.

But you looked rather pretty with that proud smile. He can let it slide this time

"Happy anniversary Kakavasha!!"

You call happily, wandering over to him, a gift behind your back. He smiled warmly in return, patting your head playfully.

"I thought we agreed to meet later, miss me that much?"

"Yes"

A small blush crept on his cheeks at your quick reply. Even after dating for a year he still couldn't get used to the fact you actually loved him.

"Oho? Is Mr Aventurine getting flustered"

Called out an all too familiar voice from behind, he turns to Topaz slightly rolling his eyes.

"Nope, just happy to see my lover"

He turns to you again, noticing your eager smile as he placed his attention back on you. You quickly reveal the bag of gifts you got him, handing it to him.

He takes it with a smile and looks inside, nearly choking on air. He had expected perhaps just matching clothes, perhaps it was just one gift with a bunch of paper to help protect it. Topaz leaned forward to see what had gotten her co-worker so tongue twisted before letting out a small laugh.

"Man that bag is filled with gifts, you like to spoil him huh [Name]?"

"I just think he deserves the gifts, most of them were from our last date. I saw him eyeing some of these things but not buying anything. Wanted to get him it"

Aventurine coughed into his hand and pulled you in for a hug. He had never felt such care from someone in so long. He really did choose the right person. He had fallen for the best person.

"Nuh uh, [Name]"

"What!? Why?"

You looked at your boyfriend with a pout, crossing your arms as he holds up your wallet that he managed to take without your knowledge.

"You've paid for me too much now honey. You didn't even need to. Let me treat you, okay? I'm a Stoneheart, remember?"

You grumble under your breath, before agreeing. Aventurine puts your wallet away in his own pocket before walking around with you in the mall. Placing any item you even show the slightest interest in, into the cart.

"I feel bad that you had to pay..."

"Pfft, sweetheart, how many times have you pay for me at this point?"

You stayed silent, looking away with a blush.

"Take my card!"

"Love, not again"

Aventurine and you start bickering (lovingly) as you tried to pay once again. Didn't help that the whole of the IPC was there, laughing at the display.

"Wow, they still haven't stopped fighting for the bill?"

"Seems that's the case, but I wonder. Dinner is nearing an end, once both of them finally agree on who pays. Do you think there'll be time for little Aventurine to pop the question?"

Jade laughs, leaning her head on her hand as she watches. Now all of the IPC could offer to pay instead, but why bother when this small argument is much more entertaining?

Topaz leans back in her seat with a knowing smile. For she was the only one to know that both you and Aventurine had gotten each other a ring. She knew another small (loving) fight would break out once you two show the ring. Questioning each other about the prices even though the both of you got something expensive for the other.

Heyyy...hey....

Finally back from my break yippee?...Haha...

I think I lost track from what it was meant to be about but hopefully this is still a decent read

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: Part three is going to be when it gets juicy, this is just them becoming reacquainted. You’ll get the good angst in the next parts. Summary: Your dreams of stardom and fame have been blown away. Your old life is lost to the sands of this new world and you find yourself utterly confused. There’s a man who looks an awful lot like Cooper yelling at you, but it’s not the man you remember loving. Not anymore.

For two days he’s been following the sound of sirens. With no new bounties, he hasn’t got much else to do with his time. Plus, he’s hoping that maybe if he figures out what’s been causing all this noise he can shut it the fuck up. Didn’t matter how far he walked, the blaring wail was echoing across the whole damn wasteland. 

A cough started up in his chest, itching into his throat and rattling his whole body as it ripped its way out of him. He tried to walk through the discomfort but it wouldn’t let him. He leaned over, hands braced on his knees, and coughed so hard he could feel ass jerky coming back up from his “dinner” last night. He clamped a hand over his mouth and forced the bile down. Frantic hands dug through the bag on his side, shaking as he ripped the box open and grabbed his inhaler. 

It took a minute before the drugs had the desired effect, and even then he was still fighting back nausea. He’s got to find a new dealer, that bitch in Filly was watering down her supply and he knew it. Not just that, she was overcharging too, on account of his being a ghoul. 

Even in the apocalypse money still managed to rule the world. Even if it was in the form of Nuka caps. He walked a little further before leaning against a boulder for a break. He wiped spittle off his lips and surveyed his surroundings. 

There was a faded old billboard sunken into the sand, only half of it sticking out. The paper was curled and browned from age and the sun, but he could make it out well enough. Quench Your Thirst, it wasn’t one of hers, though. It was the girl they’d replaced her with. He contemplated shooting it, just so he wouldn’t have to stare at the girl anymore, but it was a waste of bullets. 

Instead, he pushed off the rock and forced himself to keep going. The noise was unbearable now, rattling around his brain and making his ears bleed the closer he got. He must be right on it, only a little while longer and he’d finally turn the damn thing off. 

He lifted a leathered hand to block the sun out of his eyes. He kept squinting, disbelieving in the sight before him. Vault 111 was sitting pretty among the skeletons and dunes of sand. It’s big white numbers upside down as the door was slid open, alarms ringing out and red flashing lights dancing around within the vault. 

He couldn’t believe it. Vault dwellers were practically extinct in the Wastelands, nevermind actually getting into their vaults. But here this one sat, open and ready for the taking. Normally, he wouldn’t risk it, even just to turn off those fucking alarms. But he had just used his last vial and if he didn’t get his hands on some good shit soon, well, best not to imagine it. 

Hand on his holster he started forward, eyes darting back and forth to make sure this wasn’t some sort of trap set by raiders. He didn’t imagine they were smart enough to do that, but apparently Muldaver’s been on the move, this could be her people’s doing. He’d rather not have to listen to someone whining on about a better life and a kind society. 

He’d believe it when he saw it. All people were capable of was greed and lust, it’s been the same before the bombs and it will be the same after. 

He stepped inside, eyes pained as they adjusted to the stark contrast of the glaring sun outside and the soft fluorescent lights within the vault. He spotted a big red button and slammed his palm down on it. The sirens, thank fuck, shut off, but the lights kept going. 

There was a gap between his platform and the next. The control panel clearly needed a Pip-Boy to be operated but he didn’t see any nearby. He sighed and took a running leap, just barely making it to the other side.  

He took another suspicious look around, still not quite sure he was completely safe. His chest tightened with the irritating feeling of an oncoming coughing fit. “Fuck it,” he muttered, starting through the open doorway without a glance back. 

Whatever had happened in here had been messy and recent. He kneeled down next to a puddle of blood and dipped an ungloved finger in, still warm. He popped open his holster and tugged out the gun, better to be safe than dead. 

He had been following the direction the lights had been pointing this whole time, hoping maybe he’d stumble across an infirmary. These vault fucks had to have left at least one bag of radaway behind. So far, though, he didn’t have high hopes. Everything was ransacked. The bodies that were left behind had been stripped naked and beaten to unidentifiable pulps.

So far, the vaults had at least been air conditioned. If nothing else he was getting a break from the sweltering heat that trailed him on the surface. He’d already tested out one of the sinks down here, their water was still functioning. Maybe he could get some of the blood caked under his nails cleaned out. 

While the air conditioning had been nice, the breeze that was coming from the door across the way would have had goosebumps rising on him if he was still capable of that. His head tilted in contemplation as he stared at it. Above every door was meant to be an indicator of what went on in there. 

There wasn’t for this one, though. And despite knowing better, he had to admit, he was pretty curious. He strode forward, tucking the gun back in his holster and slamming the button on the right side of the door. The second it slid open, whatever had been sealing the noise inside broke. 

He flinched away from the sounds of sirens and covered his ears, cussing up a storm as he slammed the button once more. It clicked uselessly but didn’t send the door down again. “Fuck,” he hissed, stepping inside and grunting as the cold bore down on him ten times worse than before. 

Cryogenics, well, the temperature made sense now. 

He stared at each of the pods, the windows frosted over with cold and making it impossible to see the people within. He took his time examining them, trying his best to see if anyone he knew was in one of them. Despite it all, he held a little hope that he might see Janey, maybe even Barb. 

Without any luck he headed towards the terminal, he could probably get the sirens to shut the fuck up this way. Or maybe just get this door closed again. 

In neon green a warning sign flashed over and over across the screen. 

LIFE SUPPORT: CRITICAL FAILURE.  

He glanced back over his shoulder and scoffed. Rich fucks hadn’t thought to have a back up, or did they really think their buddy Vault-Tec would keep them safe? He shook his head and clicked away the warning. He peered through the list of commands but couldn’t find anything except a list of who was in the pods. 

He figured he might as well see if he spotted a familiar name. If they were alive he might be able to get some information off of them. It wasn’t until the bottom of the list that he saw anything helpful. Your name stood out bright and bold and beside it the message:

LIFE SUPPORT FAILING

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION: 

The colon blinked a few times and he drummed his finger impatiently on the sides of the terminal. Finally the risk analysis loaded and he let out a rough exhale. 

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION: IMMINENT 

REMOVE SUBJECT IMMEDIATELY 

His eyes widened and without thinking he clicked the little button. A moment later he heard something creak open, the seal of the pod broken as air rushed out. He turned around and faced your pod, of course it was the one right beside him. 

He ran forward, catching you just as you slumped out of the seat. Your skin was like ice, your lips blue and face purple from choking. It was all swollen, like you’d been struggling to get air in for a while before he came. He frowned down at your limp form, shaking you slightly as he waited for you to take in a breath. 

“Hey,” he brought a rough hand down on your cheek, the leather striking loudly against your skin.

Your lips parted and you took in a deep breath, gasping as your hands flew up to your throat. You turned over, falling out of his arms and landing roughly on the metal grates of the floor. He took a step back, watching as you hacked yourself back to life, your lungs nearly coming out with how hard you were coughing. 

His head tilted as he observed you. You looked damn near the same as the last time he saw you. The only real difference being the slutty little black slip you had on. He scoffed and shook his head. So that’s where you’d disappeared to, sold yourself out to Vault-Tec for some apocalyptic protection. 

Lot of good that did you. 

You clawed at your throat, air feeling like razor blades as you greedily inhaled. You’re not sure where you are, you can barely feel your extremities, you’ve got an uncomfortable draft on your backside. You wince as you sit up, wiping your blurry eyes in the hopes they’ll clear up, metal digs into your skin as you do. 

It’s like when you get too cold during winter and your eyes frost over a little bit. Except, this doesn’t feel like a little bit. You can’t even see your own hand right now. All you can make out is faint outlines of everything, blurry little clouds of color. 

“Hello?” Someone was here, you could tell that much. You just didn’t know who. Metal creaked in front of you and you scrambled back. They weren’t saying anything. Why weren’t they saying anything? 

You wracked your brain for the last thing you could remember and felt tears building along your lashes. Oh god. “Tom?” You called out hesitantly. Maybe they’d changed their minds. Maybe the men who’d grabbed you had dumped you off somewhere. 

You didn’t want to think about what they’d done while you were asleep. You were slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings and very aware of the skimpy slip you had on right now. Not even close to what you’d been wearing when they grabbed you. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a meager attempt at comfort. 

“That who you fucked, sweetheart?”

Your brows turned down. “Cooper?” He sounded a little rough, his accent more pronounced, but you’d know his voice anywhere. It was as familiar to you as your own. “Cooper, where am I?” The tears were spilling freely now the longer he stared at you in silence. At least crying was starting to thaw out your eyes. 

You could more clearly make out his form now, looming overtop of you like some sort of dark omen. You always felt safe with Coop. When someone pushed you too much or got a little too aggressive, you could go to him. 

Right now, though, you felt like prey in front of a wolf. There was no kindness in his words and only a cruel accusation in his tone. Dear god, where were you? And why would he think you would ever fool around with any of these sick fucks behind his back? 

“Cooper, please, what happened?”

He barked out a laugh and you flinched back, “What happened? Well, lets see what the fuck happened.” You heard more than saw him pace across the metal floors, the spurs on his boots clanking loudly. Had he been at a party and come looking for you?

“You told me you’d be back for lunch and I didn’t see you for another two hundred years.”

Your stomach dropped to the floor, “What?” You whispered. 

He knelt down in front of you. “Your eyes still foggy?” You nodded your head mutely. “Well,” he chuckled but it wasn’t the one you knew. This was something mean and sharp. “When those clear up, I’m not gonna look like you remember me, darling. Should probably get out of here before you realize what you’re talking to.”

He made to get up but you shot forward, blindly groping at the dark form of his torso until you latched onto his duster. “Cooper, please, I’m confused. I-” you looked around blindly, hoping to find something to explain how the last thing you remembered was eating pancakes with him. There’s no way in hell it’s been two hundred years. 

“I went to Tom’s to get the script. He made me come in for drinks. There- there were all these men there, they grabbed me and I don’t remember anything after that. Cooper, please, I wasn’t wearing this when they snatched me. What the hell happened to me?”

There was a moment of silence before he let out a sigh. “You didn’t leave to find some safety in Vault-Tec?”

You frowned and let him go, shoving him away from you with as much force as your frozen muscles could muster up. “Fuck you, you think I’d do that to you? How little do you think of me?”

You reached out for the pod beside you, using it to get to your feet. You felt about as graceful as a newborn foal right now, all gangly limbs and stilted movements. You leaned over, catching your breath as you tried to walk forward. 

“If I were you, I’d get back in that pod and let the world rot away. You’re not gonna do well on your own out here, honey.”

You heard his spurs moving past you and then made out his form as he walked through the doors of the room. “Cooper?” You called out, but you knew it was pointless. He was gone. The man you knew was gone and you had no clue what the fuck had happened. 

He managed to finally find the infirmary, lucky enough that a few bags of Rad-Away had been left behind. They’d only had IV bags, so he’d spent a while trying to find a spot where his skin wasn’t so tough a needle could actually get through. 

She had to be lying. 

He felt himself trying to look at the door, like she’d step through, and forced his head down. He flicked at the IV bag, hoping that maybe it would speed it the fuck up. He needed to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the more he wanted to talk to her. 

He’d changed a lot since they’d last seen each other. Whatever he had once felt for her was gone. The man he had once been was dead. There was no point in hurting the girl by giving her false hope. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to relax some. 

He’d finish this bag, pack the others, and then he’d leave this vault behind. She could figure out what she wanted to do on her own. He didn’t have time for strays or old flames. 

You stumbled around for a while before you finally got your bearings. You managed to make your way into what looked like an office and sat behind a curved desk. A terminal on top sat blinking bright green letters at you. You went through each of the logs, your dread only getting worse the longer you read. 

Tom wasn’t in this vault, that’s for sure. The other names you only recognized from the credits of some movies you’d watched a while back. The men who had taken you from Tom’s house. 

According to the scientist using this terminal, they’d wanted to ensure they had some fun before they went underground. 

You weren’t the only one Tom had sold out. Your entire cryogenic chamber had been filled with other women, each of them dead because of a life support failure. You were meant to be their entertainment while they waited for the world to be ready for the taking. 

You took a break, forcing your eyes away from the screen and staring down at your hands. 

Well, Cooper hadn’t been lying at least. Two hundred years you’d been frozen, you hadn’t even known it. It was bizarre, what felt like only a few hours ago was over two millennia. You’d only just kissed Cooper goodbye and now he was acting like some asshole who wouldn’t even stay to help you to your feet. 

Feeling yourself getting angry and panicked you went back to reading. There was nothing you could do. You’d been screwed over by someone you trusted, you were stuck here. No point in pouting about it. 

The scientist wrote more about the men’s intentions and you forced the bile down as you read. Then he got to what Vault-Tec’s real intentions were. Something about experimenting with cryogenics, seeing how long a body could last, what all it could preserve. You didn’t understand most of it, the language far above your education. 

The men were just guinea pigs, same as you. It brought you a modicum of satisfaction. Barely, though. 

The lead of the whole project gets more cryptic and paranoid the further he writes. Something about Vault-Tec never sending the all clear signal to get the fuck out of here. Security was getting antsy the longer they stayed and supplies were running low. 

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together when you looked at the blood splattered walls and the white coated corpse across the room.  

Underneath the last entry was a fail safe. In case the experiment was going wrong and there were no other options but to abandon it. 

TERMINATE?

The green pointer blinked as you stared at the question. Your mind traveled to the way they’d swarmed you. How ruthlessly they’d taken you like you were nothing more than cattle. The other women they did it to. You could only imagine what had happened while you’d been knocked out. 

That familiar feeling of anger, disgust, and shame welled up in you. You had always been typecast. The sexy bombshell with nothing else going for her. It bled into other aspects of your life, people treating you like you were nothing more than a walking doll, for their enjoyment and nothing else. 

You’d be damned if you let these men survive what the other women couldn’t. 

You hit the button and listened as the sirens quieted down the hall, the hiss of oxygen as the pods killed their inhabitants. You didn’t allow yourself to linger on what you’d just done for very long, you went clicking through the rest of the terminal. 

Most of it was password locked, you only gleamed enough information to figure out what had been going on while you slept. Bombs dropped, the world went to shit, just like you always thought it would. You’d never considered that you might survive it. 

Maybe those men had done you a slight favor, just barely. 

He sighed as he ripped the needle out of his arm, pulling his sleeve down he moved away from the wall he’d been leaning on. He’d definitely been getting cheated out of his caps. Next time he saw that bitch Ma June, he’d show her what he thought about her watered down bullshit. 

A shadow passed by the doorway and his hand drifted down to his holster. He slipped out of the room and took a peek around the corner. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere, even with that ridiculous vault suit on. 

“Hey!”

She jumped and whirled around on him. For a moment he forgot that this was a completely new reality for her. She didn’t know what a ghoul was, she’d never seen one before. Her last memory of him had been his prime. When he’d had a fucking nose. 

Her eyes widened and his grew cold while he waited for the inevitable disgust. He was used to it by now, but he was pretty sick and tired of hearing about it. Especially when the few people who managed to get their hands on his old movies would recognize him. 

The disgust never came, just obvious shock and disbelief. She took a few hesitant steps closer, her eyes darting across his face while she did. He nearly missed her hand coming up, like she wanted to touch him. He caught it at the last second, bringing his hand up to swat hers down. 

She winced and backed up a step, the wonder on her face gone and replaced with hurt. “Cooper-”

He darted forward and snatched her chin in between his gloved fingers. “Now, darling, I’m gonna need you to get this through your fucking head,” he hissed, eyes boring into her terrified ones. “That’s not my name anymore, I’m nothing but a ghoul. I’m not the man you know and I’m never going to be. Let it go and if you know what’s good for you, move the fuck on.”

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and grinned, she had always been pretty when she cried. “Understand?” When she didn’t respond fast enough for his liking he shook her roughly, “Speak!”

“Yes,” she shouted, clawing at his arm and wincing when her nails scraped across the leather of his skin. “I understand.” He took a moment, looking into her eyes, before he nodded and released her. 

She stumbled back, choking on a sob and glaring up at him. “So, what? Am I just supposed to call you an asshole?” He scoffed, barely laughing. Everything that happened to her today and she could still get a fucking attitude. It was nearly impressive, if not stupid. She didn’t watch who she spoke to and she was going to get killed before the day was up. 

“You’re not gonna call me anything. We’re not working together, you’re on your own.”

She glared at him and rubbed her jaw where he’d grabbed her. Her cheeks were already changing colors, bruises blooming where he’d snatched her. His eyes darted away from her hands and back to her. “Why’d you stop me then?”

He looked her up and down and grinned at the way she shivered, seemed he hadn’t lost all his charm just yet. “That tight little suit of yours is gonna get you killed. People up there don’t take too kindly to people from down here.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, glaring at him. “So, what? I’d be safer walking around in what they had me in?”

He shook his head and started walking back towards the door of the vault. “No.”

He heard her huff and race after him. “You’re fucking infuriating, you know that? What the hell am I supposed to do, Co-” He shot her a warning glare but she’d clamped her mouth shut before she could finish the sentence. She still had that stupid hurt look on her face, like he’d kicked her puppy. It kind of made him want to just shoot her. 

“I don’t have any supplies, all I have is this stupid suit. Please, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

He sighed and stopped. She stumbled forward, nearly ramming into his back in the process. “Go to Filly, I’m sure you’ll find something there.”

“I’m supposed to just know where that is?”

He didn’t bother responding to her, there was no point in it. She would be dead soon, anyway. This world wasn’t made for pretty girls like her, especially not on her own. If she was smart she’d just starve herself down here, at least she’d have running water. 

You watched him walk off and felt like your chest was going to cave in. You couldn’t handle this, he was just Cooper an hour ago. Making you breakfast and kissing you goodbye. And despite the odd deformities, you could still see him. Sure, he was missing a nose, but he was still there. Your Cooper. 

Except he wasn’t. 

You couldn’t quite believe he would be so cruel earlier. He was always mean when he was hurt. You figured maybe he was still sitting with the fact that you hadn’t actually left him behind for Vault-Tec. But his eyes gave him away. 

They were cold, devoid of anything you used to know. The man you had known was no longer there. And if he was, he was buried far deeper than you were interested in digging. You watched him walk away and felt your chest squeezing painfully. 

This was not the fucking time to start panicking. If the carnage around you was anything to go by, then the surface had to be so much fucking worse. Cooper seemed to think vaults were safer, but right now you were staring into the gouged eyes of a corpse who’d been killed by a friend. Clearly, nowhere was safe. 

You couldn’t afford to pity yourself or cry. You’d have to keep moving, process it all later. You pushed off the wall and leapt over the corpses blocking your path. Cooper must’ve stepped in a pile of blood because you could clearly make out his footprints. He seemed like he was going to leave, you bet if you followed him you would find the way out. 

You followed the prints up a set of stairs, but they had faded out completely by the time you got up to the vault door. You winced, blocking your eyes from the bright glare of the sun. Barely a second out of the vault and you felt like your skin might already be peeling. 

Whatever had happened while you were out, this was not the world you remembered. The sun seemed bigger, brighter, more violent. If the skeletons littered throughout the sand were anything to go by, everything was more violent now. 

You tripped over a particularly deformed skull of a beast and scrambled up to your feet. You glanced around, spotting a figure in the distance and ran after it. You hoped it was Cooper you were following, but he was already so far ahead of you that he was barely a dot on the horizon. 

You followed the footsteps he left in the sand and prayed he didn’t notice you trailing him. You couldn’t very well stay down there with all of those corpses. There had been no supplies to protect yourself with except a bloodied scalpel. You wouldn’t make it down there on your own and you certainly wouldn’t make it up here. 

You planned to just follow Cooper until you found something resembling civilization. He didn’t want you around him and you got the message, you’re not exactly eager to share his company. He’s a stranger, the only part of him you recognize is his name, and you’re not even allowed to use that. 

You kept your distance as long as you could. Keeping him as far away as possible so if he turned around he wouldn’t be able to realize he was being followed. But you’re already struggling. He’s not showing any signs of slowing anytime soon and you can barely see anymore. 

Your lips are peeling, throat raw and aching for water. Your eyes are completely coated in sand and being damaged by the sun. You wished you had been better prepared for this but it’s been at least four hours and you’re about to keel over. 

You wheeze, dragging yourself over to a fallen billboard and slumping against it. You’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings, or you just don’t care anymore. You find yourself drifting off and you don’t stop it. You’d prefer if the heat stroke took you while you were asleep, at least then you wouldn’t be aware of it. 

Your eyes drift closed and your head slumps forward, the sun bearing down on your neck and burning away at the skin there. 

You cough and splutter, frantically brushing sand off your face and spitting it out of your mouth. Cooper’s standing over you, frowning and glaring, which seems to be his go to expression now. You glance down at his outstretched foot and realize he kicked the sand in your face. “What the fuck?”

“You know,” he tilts his head and rests a hand on his holster, grinning at the way you shrink away from his gun. “I thought you would have lasted at least another hour.”

You wipe your face off and struggle back onto your feet, nearly teetering over as you did. “You knew I was following you?” You groused, glaring up at him. You’re not sure your anger translates well, though. You can barely hear your own voice, your throat too dry to produce any proper words.  

“‘Course I did, sweetheart. I’d be a pretty shit bounty hunter if I didn’t recognize when someone was trailing me.”

You finally manage to get to your feet and glare at him. “Congratulations, you want a prize?”

His smile drops and he darts forward before you can move away. His hand clamps around your arm and he drags you behind him. You’re stumbling, barely able to keep in stride with him. Mercifully, you notice the sky is starting to turn pink in the distance. Soon, the sun will be down and you’ll get a moment's reprieve. 

“Where are you taking me?” You demand, tripping over a rock and wincing as he jerks you back to your feet. He turns around to glare at you like he isn’t the one dragging you around. 

“Filly,” he grunts. He finally comes to a stop, you ram into his back wincing as your nose slams into him painfully. He doesn’t even flinch and you wonder if he felt it. If he can feel anything with how crisped his skin is. 

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing your luck. If he is helping you, and that’s a pretty hesitant if, you’re sure he’ll be quick to change his mind. Still, you can’t help but push him. You’ve always had that problem, except before he took it in stride and teased you right back. 

Now, your eyes dart down to his gun, you’re not sure he wouldn’t just put a new hole in you. 

“Changed my mind.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I’m aware. I’m asking why,” you cut yourself off sharply, mouth clamping shut because you almost called him Coop again. Your jaw is still aching from the last “warning” he gave you. You’re not looking for another. 

He whirled around on you and you didn’t even realize his gun was in his hand until it was digging into your throat. “Why don’t you stop asking me so many fucking questions, hm.” He sneered and you winced at the sight of his yellowed teeth. Finally you nodded and backed away from him, he kept his eyes on yours for a moment before he holstered his gun again. “Let’s go,” he started walking and you couldn’t do anything but follow him. 

At least this time you weren’t trying to track a dot in the distance. 

The sky was getting dark quick and the temperature was dropping even faster. You hunched into yourself and ran your hands up and down your arms to try and keep warm. It seemed everything was done in the extremes now, even the damn weather. 

Cooper whistled and you hurried to catch up with him. He stood in front of a decaying old house, nearly all of the roof gone. The walls looked like they might cave in soon and it had clearly been unoccupied for a very long time. He opened up the door and walked inside, letting it slam back into your face. 

You caught it and huffed. You followed after him and saw that he was already setting up his spot for the night. He leaned against the half-rotted couch, his hat over his eyes and his arms tucked under his coat. You glanced around for a clean spot to curl up and laid down on the ground. You winced at all the dirt on the floor but figured it was better than sleeping out in the sand. 

Despite your oh-so comfortable sleeping arrangement, you found it hard to pass out. Maybe it’s because you’d just taken a two hundred year nap or the man across from you. Your eyes refused to stay shut and you couldn’t stop staring at him. 

You told yourself you would process your emotions later but apparently your mind had decided now would be the best time. You could feel the tears trickling down your cheeks again and you tried to wipe them away.

Too much had happened for them to be so easily dismissed. You were struggling with the thoughts of what those men did to you. You’re certain your imagination is worse than anything that happened, but not knowing was killing you. You felt violated, just being knocked out like that and being left vulnerable to them. 

And Cooper. 

Cooper was practically dead as far as you both were concerned. You felt like you were grieving for someone who was lying right across from you. You were staring right at him and he was just out of your reach. 

You sniffled and wiped your nose. A loud sigh came from the man in front of you and he spoke without bothering to tilt his hat back up. “I’m gonna take you to Filly and you’re gonna help me with some business there and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“What?” Your voice was an embarrassing croak and you winced. 

“They don’t take too kindly to my folk down there-”

“You mean zombies,” you interrupted, propping your head up on your hand. 

He finally lifted his hat up and glared, though it was half-hearted at best. “It’s ‘ghouls,’ sweetheart. Never knew you to be racist.” You rolled your eyes and he dropped his hat back down again. “You’ll get me what I need and I’ll have delivered you to, well, not safety, but as close as you can get out here.” He leaned forward, arm outstretched and grinning at you. “Deal?”

Well, it wasn't like you had any other options. You leaned forward, grasping his gloved hand in yours and shaking, “Deal.”

SERIES TAGLIST: @pixelatedprofilepic @o0mellowdramatic0o @bisasterbisexual @julianmarie @v3n1x @weakling-grace

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 11

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventually lololol)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, stupid people, dramaaaaa

A/N: I aint ready for peace yet 😇🫶🏻

Masterpost

NYU 4th Year

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon as you exited your lecture hall, your bag slung over your shoulder and your mind already racing with thoughts of your looming paper. The quad was buzzing with students heading off to their weekend plans, and you were lost in your thoughts when you spotted Natasha leaning casually against a lamppost, her red hair catching the golden light.

“There she is,” Nat called, waving you over with a grin. “What took you so long? I’ve been standing here for ages.”

“Class ran late,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked up to her. “Professor decided to drop a surprise reading quiz on us.”

Natasha scoffed, falling into step beside you. “Reading quizzes on a Friday should be illegal. Anyway, there’s a party tonight at Walker’s place. You coming?”

You hesitated, already feeling the weight of your weekend workload. “I don’t know, Nat. I’ve got that big paper due next week, and I’m kind of behind. I was planning to get a head start tonight.”

Natasha groaned, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. “Come on, please? Wanda already bailed on me, and I really want to see this guy who’s going to be there. I can’t get stuck with the boys by myself—they’ll ruin my whole vibe.”

You sighed, torn between responsibility and the infectious energy of your best friend. “Fine,” you said reluctantly. “But I’m starting my introduction before we leave. No arguments.”

“Scout’s honor,” Natasha said, raising three fingers in a mock salute.

You gave her a pointed look. “You weren’t even a Girl Scout.”

She grinned, undeterred. “True, but I can feel it. In another life, I was definitely a spy.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you parted ways. “Yeah, sure, Nat.”

By the time you got back to your dorm, Natasha was already busy texting, her phone lighting up with each rapid-fire message. You could tell by the sly smile on her face that she was talking to her crush. The thing about Natasha was that she always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. She was a spitfire, sharp-tongued and unapologetically confident, but underneath all that fire, she was a hopeless romantic. Most guys your age weren’t ready for someone like her, but that never stopped her from trying.

You sat at your desk and opened your laptop, determined to at least get your introduction done before the night derailed into party chaos. The words flowed easily, and by the time you finished your intro and even managed to start your first paragraph, you felt a small sense of accomplishment.

Alright you texted Natasha, I’m done for now. Let’s get ready.

Within seconds, your phone buzzed with her reply: Finally!!! Be there in 5.

True to her word, Natasha burst into your room moments later, her arms loaded with a makeup bag and a pair of heels. You both commandeered Wanda’s bed, laying out a mess of possible outfits, debating the merits of each one as you tried to find the perfect look.

You finally settled on a sleek black mini-dress that hugged your figure in all the right places, paired with short heels and of course your signature neckless: your locket. Natasha went for a bold red jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and sky-high heels.

Standing side by side in front of the mirror, Natasha let out a low whistle. “Damn, we’re hot.”

You giggled, adjusting the strap of your dress. “We clean up nice.”

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the delicate gold locket resting against your collarbone, and she smiled. “That locket… you’ve been wearing it forever. I’ve never seen you without it.”

You glanced down, your fingers lightly brushing over the familiar weight of the locket. “Yeah, it’s kind of a family thing, my mom gave it to be before she passed"

Natasha, smiled sadly her curiosity piqued. “You never did tell me what’s inside.”

You held the locket, fidgeting it between your fingers. “On one side, there’s a quote about love that my great-great-great-grandmother supposedly wrote. My grandma told me everyone who’s had this locket would place a photo of the man they loved on the other side—so they’d always be close to their heart."

Natasha’s eyes softened. “Your whole family sounds like a bunch of hopeless romantics.”

You laughed. “Apparently. Guess it runs in the blood.”

Natasha smirked, leaning in. “So… who’s in yours?”

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the locket before closing it. “No one,” you said, offering a small smile. “I don’t really have anyone to put in there right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Mhm, sure. No one at all?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone is as quick to fall head over heels as you, Nat.”

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand over her heart dramatically, “I just know what I want.”

“And what you deserve,” you added with a grin.

Natasha nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

With that, you both grabbed your bags and made your way out of the dorm, ready to take on the night. Natasha’s phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t hide the excitement on her face as she typed back.

You glanced at her, smiling softly. “Texting your mystery man?”

“Maybe,” she said with a wink. “Tonight’s going to be fun—you’ll see.”

The crisp night air buzzed with the energy of the weekend as you and Natasha made your way down the crowded street, laughter and music spilling out from houses along the way. The distant thump of bass grew louder with every step, and soon you were standing in front of John Walker’s house, its windows glowing and the porch already packed with students.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you approached the door, her heels clicking against the pavement. “You know,” she said, her voice light but teasing, “I always thought you might have Bucky’s picture in that locket.”

You stumbled slightly, your eyes snapping to hers. “What?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, don’t act so surprised. You two have been inseparable since kindergarten. Best friends, sure, but there’s always been… something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she didn’t give you the chance. “I mean, hey, no judgment. I’m just saying I’m a little surprised he’s not in there.”

You were about to respond, to come up with some half-hearted deflection, but before you could, Natasha grinned and yanked you toward the door. “No time for heart-to-hearts now. Let’s find the boys.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise hit you like a wave. The living room was packed, bodies swaying to the beat of the music as red solo cups were passed around. You caught a glimpse of a makeshift beer pong table in the corner, surrounded by a cheering crowd. The scent of cheap alcohol and sweat mingled in the air, and someone had already spilled something sticky on the floor.

Natasha scanned the room with a practiced eye, her grip still firm on your arm. “There they are,” she said, nodding toward the far side of the room where Steve and Bucky were leaning against a wall, talking. Steve had his usual easy smile, but Bucky’s eyes flicked across the room, as if he was keeping tabs on everything and everyone.

Natasha released your arm and nudged you forward with a sly grin. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” Before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, already hunting down her mystery man.

You took a deep breath and weaved your way through the throng of people, your heart picking up speed as you got closer to them. Bucky’s head turned slightly, and when his eyes landed on you, a slow smile spread across his face. He nudged Steve, who looked up and gave you a warm wave.

Here’s a revised version with smoother transitions and more natural dialogue flow:

“Well, well,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise as you and Natasha finally reached him and Steve. He leaned casually against the wall, a lopsided grin on his face. “Look who decided to show up.”

Steve chuckled, raising his cup in a mock toast. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight. Thought you had some big paper to write?”

“I did,” you replied, crossing your arms with a smirk. “But Natasha here wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said it was a life-or-death situation.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Natasha, relentless? Shocking.”

“She’s practically a force of nature,” you said, glancing around. “So, drinks?”

Steve drained the last of his beer and set his cup down with a satisfied sigh. “You two go ahead. I’m gonna head over to the keg and see if I can beat my personal record tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Best of luck, Stevie.”

Steve winked as he stepped away. “Now that you’re here, I don’t need it.”

As he disappeared into the crowd, you and Bucky stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, the bass of the music thumping around you. Then, Bucky gave you one of his signature half-smiles, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. “Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand and pulling you toward the drink table.

His touch was brief but enough to send a spark up your arm. You followed without protest, a small smile tugging at your lips. When you reached the table, he handed you a drink, his fingers brushing against yours—a fleeting, seemingly innocent moment that left your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you lifted the cup to your lips.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. But before you could think of a response, Natasha appeared from behind you, clapping her hands together, cutting through the moment.

“Alright, people,” she announced, her tone playful. “What’s the plan? Beer pong? Dancing? Or do we just stand here and look devastatingly cool?”

Bucky smirked, his eyes still on you. “I think we’ve already nailed the last one.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “How about we find Steve before he gets himself into trouble?”

Bucky raised his cup in agreement. “Solid plan.”

With that, the three of you moved back into the crowd, weaving through the crush of people and the haze of music. Even as the party buzzed around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Bucky’s lingering gaze—or the way your locket, pressed against your chest, seemed to grow heavier with every step.

"There he is!" Natasha beamed, stopping "Buck you go watch him, me and my girl are gonna dance for a bit!" Before either of you could respond, Natasha was already pulling you away, you turned around glancing over your shoulder briefly to see Bucky's blue eyes smiling at you as he gave you a single wave.

The music thumped loudly in your ears, the bass vibrating through the floor as you swayed with Natasha in the middle of the crowded living room. The alcohol buzzed warmly in your veins, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about everything—about the paper, about the tension that always seemed to linger whenever Bucky was around.

You and Nat were giggling, holding onto each other as you moved to the beat. It was freeing, exhilarating even, until your gaze drifted across the room and landed on him.

Bucky was leaning casually against the wall, his signature smirk firmly in place as he talked to a blonde. She was laughing at something he said, her hand lightly resting on his arm. They were close—too close. Her hair glinted under the dim party lights, and the way she leaned in, hanging on his every word, made your stomach drop.

Your world stopped for a second. The music faded into the background, replaced by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You blinked, trying to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter, but the familiar ache settled in your chest anyway.

You tore your eyes away, grabbing your red solo cup and downing the rest of its contents in one go. The burn of the cheap liquor didn’t help, but it gave you something to focus on. You crushed the cup in your hand and let it drop to the floor, the plastic crumpling beneath your heel as you forced yourself to keep dancing.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Natasha laughed beside you, her movements loose and carefree. She slurred slightly, her words barely audible over the music. “Hey! You… you took your necklace off!”

You frowned, reaching up to touch your neck instinctively. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then where is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she swayed in place.

Your hand moved frantically over your collarbone, panic setting in as your fingers found only bare skin. Your locket was gone. “Shit,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you started scanning the floor beneath your feet. “Nat, it’s gone!”

Her hands immediately went to your shoulders, steadying you. “Don’t panic,” she said, her voice slurring but her tone trying to stay calm. “It… it can’t be far.”

But it was too late. The panic clawed its way up your throat, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. The music was too loud, the crowd too thick. You dropped to your knees, your hands scrambling over the sticky floor as you searched desperately for the locket.

“Excuse me! Sorry!” you mumbled, trying to push past people, but it was no use. The sea of feet around you made it impossible to see anything.

You backed up, bumping into someone behind you. A pair of hands immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. “Hey, you okay?” the guy asked, but you shoved him off without even looking, your vision blurring with tears.

Natasha was back at your side in an instant, her hands on your shoulders again, her mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear her. The world felt like it was spinning too fast, and all you could think about was the locket—your family heirloom. The one your mother had given you before she passed away. The one that had been passed down for generations. And now it was gone, lost in the chaos of some stupid party.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stumbled backward, your breathing coming in short, panicked gasps. You didn’t even realize someone was pulling you out of the house until the cool night air hit your skin.

“Hey, hey,” that same guy's voice said, low and urgent. You blinked through the haze of your tears, and your heart twisted painfully when you saw who it was.

Bucky.

He had his hands on your arms, guiding you away from the crowd, his eyes filled with concern. “Come on, you’re okay,” he murmured, leading you to a quieter spot on the porch. “Breathe, alright? Just breathe.”

You tried to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, your vision still blurry from the tears.

“Look at me,” Bucky said softly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His words, his presence, grounded you just enough to pull in a shaky breath. “It’s gone, Buck,” you finally managed, your voice breaking. “The locket… my mom’s locket. It’s gone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he glanced back toward the house. “Okay,” he said, his voice calm but determined. “We’re gonna find it.”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “There’s too many people. It’s probably already stepped on or—or lost for good.”

“Hey,” Bucky said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your arms. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was unwavering determination. His eyes softened, and he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m going back in.”

“No, Buck—”

“I’ll find it,” he interrupted, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Just stay here.”

Before you could protest, he turned and disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone on the porch, the night air chilling your skin. You sank onto the steps, your hands trembling as you clutched at your knees, praying silently that he was right.

The minutes felt like hours as you sat on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every time the door opened, you looked up, hoping to see Bucky stepping out with your locket in hand. But each time, it was just another person stumbling out into the night, oblivious to your panic.

Finally, the door opened again, and Bucky emerged. His expression was serious, his steps purposeful, but his hands were empty.

Your heart sank, the last bit of hope slipping away. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his eyes meeting yours with a steady calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice firm but laced with regret. “I checked everywhere I could. Asked everyone. It’s just… not there.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tightening as you tried to process his words. The locket—your mother’s locket—was gone. A family heirloom, passed down through generations, lost in the chaos of a party. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“It’s gone,” you finally whispered, the words feeling heavy and final.

Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding you. “I know how much it meant to you,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t find it tonight. But we’ll figure something out. I’m not giving up.”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears that blurred your vision. “It was the only thing I had left of her,” you said, your voice breaking. “And now it’s just… gone.”

Bucky’s fingers gently squeezed your knee. “I get it,” he said quietly. “It’s not just a thing. It’s her.”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “It feels like I let her down,” you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Bucky shifted, sitting beside you on the step. His shoulder brushed yours, and he looked out at the street, his voice calm and certain. “Hey, your okay, its gonna be okay”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb his words. “How can you say that? Its gone,” .

“I know,” he said, his tone understanding. “But your mom wouldn’t want you to carry that weight. That locket—it was important, sure, but it doesn’t change the connection you had with her. You’ve got all those memories, all those stories. She’s still with you.”

His words settled over you, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned into his shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. “Thanks, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice still thick with emotion. “For always being there.”

His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Always,” he said simply.

For a while, you just sat there, the distant hum of the party fading into the background. The ache of losing the locket still lingered, but Bucky’s steady presence eased it, bit by bit. He didn’t try to fix everything, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. He just stayed—solid, dependable, exactly what you needed.

You broke the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “What about that girl…?”

Bucky didn’t let you finish. “Forget about her,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have my best girl right here” his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you, something heavy and meaningful.

Eventually, you sat up, brushing the last of the tears from your cheeks. You gave him a small, wry smile. “Guess I owe you one,” you said quietly.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “Except maybe a rematch at beer pong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Deal,” you said, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

Now

Sam takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to your shared apartment, bracing himself. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s walking into, but he knows Bucky isn’t handling things well. He knocks firmly and waits, listening for any movement inside.

After a long pause, the door creaks open. Bucky stands there, looking like absolute hell. His hair’s a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, rumpled and wrinkled.

“Sam?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, man,” Sam says, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to check on you. Can I come in?”

Bucky steps aside, muttering, “Yeah… sure. Guess you uh probably know everything already.”

Sam walks in, his eyes immediately catching the shattered lamp on the floor, pieces scattered across the living room. “I know her side, but there's two sides to every coin” The air feels heavy, tense. He turns to Bucky, his voice steady. “She’s at Steve and my place. She’s safe if you're wondering.”

Bucky winces, looking away as his shoulders slump. “Good… that’s good.” He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Guess you’re here to tell me what a screw-up I am, huh?”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Bucky, I’m not here to kick you when you’re down. I’m here because we’re friends. And friends don’t abandon each other, even when one of them is making dumbass choices.”

Bucky scoffs, dropping onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Yeah, well… I deserve it.”

Sam takes the chair across from him, studying Bucky’s hunched figure. “You look like hell, man. Want to tell me what happened, your version?”

Bucky hesitates, his voice low and broken. “I don’t know. She was just standing there, looking at me like… like she was just disgusted at being in my presence ...and it hurt, i said sorry for the bar comment, but then we started to hash things out, I got so damn scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do—I pushed her away. Told her to leave.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, his tone sharp. “So you let her walk out? Alone? At night?”

Bucky’s face twists with guilt, and he nods. “Yeah, I know, i went after her but she was gone, that's no excuse i know, i put her in danger Sam, i can't believe it….And now she probably hates me.” He chuckles bitterly. “Hell, maybe she should, i do.”

“Don’t give me that self-pity crap,” Sam snaps. “She’s hurt, sure. But you know damn well she doesn’t hate you.”

Bucky exhales shakily. “Maybe she should. All I ever do is screw things up. I push her away because… because I’m too scared to admit how I feel. And now? I don’t even know if I can fix it.”

Sam leans forward, his voice firm. “You’ve got two choices, Buck. Sit here and wallow, or get off your ass and do something about it.”

Bucky finally meets his gaze, his voice barely a whisper. “What do I even say?”

Sam nods toward the shattered lamp. “Start by picking up the pieces. Then tell her the truth.”

Bucky swallows hard. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Sam’s voice softens. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take, you cant just throw away the friendship you two have, i dont even know my friends from kindergarten, i couldnt tell you the slightest thing about em now….but you’ll never know unless you try.”

Bucky hesitates, then leans back, his gaze distant. “I’ve tried, Sam. More times than I can count.”

Sam frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s voice grows quieter, tinged with frustration. “I’ve been trying to tell her for years—little things here and there. Dropping hints, pushing the boundaries, trying to get her to see me the way I see her. But every damn time, she pulls back, like she’s scared of what’s on the other side of those walls she’s built.”

Sam watches him, his expression thoughtful. “And you think she doesn’t feel the same?”

Bucky lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. But how the hell am I supposed to keep putting myself out there when she won’t meet me halfway? Why does it always have to be me to make the first move? Why can’t she give me a sign? Something, anything that lets me know I’m not imagining this?” Bucky’s voice cracks, and he rakes a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling out. “It’s like every time I try to get closer, she pulls back. And then I’m stuck wondering if I’m just some idiot chasing after something that was never there.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re scared, she’s scared—it’s a mess, man. But sitting here, letting the fear eat away at you, isn’t gonna solve anything. You want her to meet you halfway? Maybe she’s been waiting for you to show her it’s safe to.”

Bucky shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I’ve shown her, Sam. Hell, I’ve been there for her through everything. I’ve tried to coax her out of those walls, but every time I think I’m making progress, she shuts me down. And now? Now she’s out there, going on dates with other guys. What am I supposed to think?”

Sam tilts his head, his gaze steady. “You ever think maybe she’s just as scared as you are? That she’s waiting for you to stop hinting and just say it outright?”

Bucky’s fists clench, his frustration boiling over. “Why does it have to be me? Why can’t she take the damn risk for once? I’m not the only one in this.”

Sam exhales, leaning back. “You’re right, it’s a two-way street. But you’ve got to ask yourself—if she’s scared, just like you, who’s gonna be brave enough to break the cycle?”

Bucky stands, pacing the room. His voice drops, low and pained. “What if I put everything out there, and she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Sam’s gaze follows him, his tone firm but empathetic. “Or what if she’s been feeling the same this whole time, but she’s been too scared to lose you? What if she’s been waiting for you to say what she can’t?”

Bucky stops, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. “I can’t lose her, Sam. Not as a friend, not as… whatever this is. She’s everything. And if I’m wrong—if I tell her how I feel and she walks away—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sam stands, crossing the room to face Bucky. “Buck, you’re already losing her by doing nothing. This limbo you’re both stuck in? It’s tearing you apart. You’ve got to take the leap, man. Because if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes clouded with doubt. “And if I crash and burn?”

Sam gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’ll get back up. And you’ll know you tried. But if you don’t take that chance, you’ll always wonder what could’ve been.”

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hands still clenched at his sides. “I’ve never been good at this—at saying what I feel. And now, with everything so screwed up…”

“Then stop overthinking it,” Sam says. “Tell her the truth. Not hints, not half-measures. The whole thing.”

Bucky looks at him, his expression caught between fear and hope. “What if she’s already made up her mind? What if she’s moving on?”

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t know that. And you won’t unless you ask. But hiding behind ‘what ifs’ isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

Bucky stares at the shattered lamp, his mind racing. Finally, he lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll talk to her. But if this blows up in my face, you’re buying me drinks for the next decade.”

Sam smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now get yourself together, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Bucky nods, though the weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on him. As Sam heads for the door, he glances back. “Just remember, Buck—she’s not the only one with walls. You’ve got a few of your own.”

Wanda clapped her hands together, her tone light. “Okay, enough brooding. How about some brunch? I’m starving.”

Natasha perked up at that, crossing her arms. “I could go for some pancakes. What about the farmers market?”

You sighed, your head falling back against the couch. “I’m down for food, but we can’t go to the farmers market.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her tone edging toward irritation. “Why not?”

“Because we can’t go there without Bucky,” you said simply, your voice flat but firm.

Natasha groaned, throwing her hands up. “God, why does everything have to come back to Bucky? He’s not exactly the Farmers Market King. We can survive one trip without him.”

You sat up, your eyes flashing. “Stop it, Nat. Just stop. Look, we’ve all messed up before. Bucky’s not some random guy who screwed up—he’s Bucky, its him. He’s been there for me through everything. We can’t just hate on him because we got in a fight.”

Natasha scoffed, her voice sharp. “I can hate on him just fine. He’s an asshole, and I’m tired of watching him drag you through this endless cycle of misery.”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stood up, your voice snapping like a whip. “And I’m tired of you acting like it’s so black and white! He’s not perfect, but none of us are. You think I haven’t made mistakes? You think I haven’t hurt him too?”

Natasha stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re always defending him! No matter what he does, you jump in to shield him, like he’s some wounded puppy. When are you gonna wake up and realize he’s not worth it?”

“He’s not worth it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get it, Nat. He’s not just some guy who broke my heart. He’s my best friend! You don’t throw someone like that away because they messed up once, or twice, or even a hundred times. He’s Bucky, for god’s sake!”

The room went silent, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha stared at you, her jaw tightening before she shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed off into Steve’s room. Natasha grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. Before she left, she glanced at Wanda and Steve, her voice sharp. “All I do is try to help, but if she wants to keep sticking up for his dumb ass, that’s on her, leave me out of it next time.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Wanda and Steve exchanged glances, both looking a little shell-shocked. Finally, Wanda sighed, brushing her hair back. “I’ll go after Nat,” she said quietly. She turned to Steve, her brow raised. “You got her?”

Steve nodded, giving Wanda a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

Once Wanda left, Steve turned to. Steve hesitated for a moment before following. He knocked gently on the door. “Hey… you okay?”

There was no answer at first, just the sound of you pacing. Finally, your voice came through, quieter but still tense. “I’m fine, Steve. Just… need a minute.”

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his voice soft. “Take all the time you need. I’m here, I’ll always be right here…”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ausenal II

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You travel for an away game

It was a long drive up to Liverpool.

Like four plus hours kind of long.

Which meant you had plenty of time to do your homework.

Steph wandered around the house, picking up her bags and sorting through the last of the mail before turning to you.

"Have you packed your laptop?"

You nodded.

"And your calculator?"

You nodded.

"And your boots and your socks?"

You didn't stop nodding.

"Okay. Let's get this show on the road."

Steph drove you both to the training grounds. She looked at you in the backseat and adjusted her rear view mirror. "Did you pick up your lunch?"

You held up the little brown paper bag she'd packed for you.

Steph nodded. "Good. Right, onto the bus with you. I'm just going to pop in and grab some water from reception."

You nodded.

Away games like this were always the same. Steph let you have a little lie in as she double then triple checked your bag and made you your lunch. Then, she would wake you up where you would beg to just have something small for breakfast like a protein bar but she would make you eat a full meal. Next Steph would drive you to the bus where she would make you get on while she slipped inside to get you some extra water in case you got car sick.

Now came the next part of your routine.

"There she is!" Katie crowed from her spot next to Caitlin. "We've been saving you a seat."

She nodded to the seat opposite her and you sat.

This was normal as well. Leah and Alessia were set up at the table across the aisle, playing cards as Kyra kneeled on her seat so she could annoy Lotte and the new American signing, Emily.

No one would sit on your other side but Steph would definitely take up the seat in facing Kyra to make sure she behaved.

"What have you got today?" Katie asked as you got out your schoolwork.

You made a face. "Biology and Chemistry."

"Did you bring the funny calculator?" Caitlin asked, making grabby hands for it.

"I need it," You said.

"I only want it for a bit," Caitlin said," I'm going to send Macca and Lanni a picture of me writing boobs."

"You're so childish," Steph said in greeting as she arrived on the bus," Leave her alone. She has deadlines." She passed you over two bottles of water and looked at you sternly. "Drink one of them now."

"She means," Katie cut in," Make sure you finish it in the first half of the journey so when we get to the services, you can have a toilet break there."

That was part of the normal routine too and you just nodded.

You got to work quickly even as the bus turned into carnage the moment you set off.

At some point, Caitlin had grabbed your calculator and was amusing herself using the graph function after sending the boob picture to Macca and Lanni.

Kyra was still annoying Lotte and Emily even after Steph made her sit down and turn around.

Leah and Lessi's card game got progressively more aggressive as the time lagged on and you found yourself abandoning your schoolwork to watch.

"Cheater!"

"You can't cheat at Uno, Leah! You're being a bad loser!"

"I haven't lost yet and there's no way you had that many plus fours! You're such a cheater!"

"Just because you have bad luck doesn't mean that I do! Now pick up your cards or resign!"

"Hey."

You snapped out of your watching to look across from you. Katie raised a singular brow and looked down at your laptop.

"Didn't Steph say you had deadlines? Come on, get it done so you can relax on your way back."

You huffed and got back to work.

"And start drinking your water too! It helps with brain power!"

You diligently typed away, absentmindedly snacking on whatever Katie pushed your way and having to fight back you calculator from Caitlin.

When it came to the twenty minute break at the services, you were more than happy to escape into the fresh air.

"Hand," Leah said as she caught up with you, holding her own hand out expectantly.

"Leah," You began to whine but a firm look from her had you slipping your palm into hers.

Kyra snickered behind you and you felt your face go bright red. "Don't wander off," Kyra teased as she moved past," Wouldn't want to get lost, would you?"

"Kyra!" Steph snapped as she approached," No teasing! It's mean!"

You and Leah didn't stick around to hear anymore of the lecture because you were dragged to the toilet and then to the little store to pick up a new book.

You were distracted though and kept peering around Leah to look at the snacks.

"No," She said," That's not good for you. Come on, you're choosing a new book."

You picked up the next book in the series you were reading but made sure to take the long way back around to the checkout, purposely walking Leah through the snacks.

"No," She said again, waving a teasing finger in your face.

"Please?" You begged," I finished my schoolwork. And I ate the lunch Steph packed for me!"

Leah looked at you through narrowed eyes, studying you before sighing. "One snack. And not too big either. I mean it, this stuff isn't good for you."

You grinned and went to grab your favourite chocolate bar, dragging Leah with you when it was clear that she wasn't going to let go of your hand.

"Go on," She said, guiding you up onto the team bus again," You promise that you finished your work?"

You nodded.

"Okay. Go and sit with Lessi. Kyra can sit in your old seat."

Alessia was already waiting for you. At some point while you were away, she'd gotten out a blanket.

"Come on," She said softly, beckoning you closer," You look like you need a nap. You had to wake up early."

"I'm not a baby," You complained even though you were already taking your shoes off so you could curl up properly on the seat.

"Teenagers can nap too." Alessia wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer.

"I'm not tired," You said," I've got a new book."

"The book can wait. We need you fighting fit for the match later. Kyra's already asleep."

You turned your head to spot Kyra face down on the table, eyes shut and drooling. You huffed and looked back at Alessia.

She was giving you one of those looks that you were more accustomed to seeing from Steph or Kim so you blew out all your air in a big sigh and rested your head on her shoulder.

"Good," Lessi said," I'll wake you up when we get there."

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[pholla-jm]

SUPERHERO

IMAGINE: SUPERHERO~ SATORU X READER FEAT: MEGUMI genre: fluff warnings: none. maybe spelling errors. not proofread. gn!reader ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Who is your favorite superhero?’ 

The question on the paper taunted Megumi as he stared at it. 

Megumi barely watches shows or reads superhero comics. He tried to think of anyone or anything in his life that he considers a superhero. 

With an annoyed sigh, he stuffs the paper into his bag. Pushing the question to the back of his mind, and deeming it a future problem. 

His teacher announces that it’s time to go home and that the parents were here to pick them up. 

Megumi knew exactly who would be outside, and he could already feel the annoyance creeping in. 

When he walked outside, he could already see the tall white haired man. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of parents. What he didn’t expect was to see a smaller companion standing next to him. Both of the adults were smiling at him; Gojo giving him a mischievous smile, and his companion giving him a warm and welcoming smile. 

He was almost reluctant to walk to his now guardians, but he was really happy to see you. One of the only ones he can stand nowadays. “(y/n)!” He says, legs moving faster so he can welcome you with open arms. 

“Megumi!” You respond, returning his welcome ten folds. 

“Awe, why don’t I get a welcome?” Gojo pouts with his arms crossed. 

He was looking down at the younger boy, but Megumi didn’t care. 

“You don’t get one, old man.” 

Gojo gasps at his words. “But (y/n) get’s one? And they’re the same age as me!” 

Megumi lets go of you, and turns to Gojo. 

“(y/n) isn’t annoying like you.” He says and grabs onto your hand. He drags you to the side of the car he usually sits at. Right behind the driver seat. Right behind Gojo, but he can see the person right in the passenger seat- you. 

“I’m not annoying.” Gojo mutters while walking to the car as well. “I’m not annoying, right (y/n)?” He asks you. You purse your lips and give him a side eye. 

After helping Megumi into his seat and making sure he’s comfortable, you close the door, shooting Gojo a look. 

‘What?’ He mouths. “You know.” You respond before going over to the passenger side of the car. Gojo sighs, muttering words of how unfair things were. He steps into the car, eyes immediately fluttering over to Megumi, then back at you. 

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but was that going to stop him? No. Absolutely not. 

The three of you arrive at the estate shortly. Megumi immediately unbuckles, and hops out of the car already dreading about doing his homework. He knew that he would be sitting in the chair for hours. 

“Go ahead and get started on your homework while I cook dinner.” You say while patting the tap of his head. 

Megumi nods his head while you start to chat with Gojo. His eyes straying longer on you rather than Gojo. 

The light bickering and laughter causes him to roll his eyes and walk past the both of you. 

When inside, he places his bag down and fishes out the paper that needs to be finished. 

‘Who is your favorite superhero?’ 

It seemed so simple. He could honestly lie and say Ironman or something like that. But he would have to write a couple sentences about why that is his favorite superhero.

“Gojo Satoru! I swear if you throw one more thing at me, you will get no sweets tonight.” 

Megumi’s ears perked up hearing your raised voice at Gojo. He hears a small thud, soon followed by a dramatic gasp. 

“Hey, turn off your infinity! It’s not fair.” 

Gojo only laughs which in turn annoys Megumi. 

But as he hears your laughter joining him, Megumi finally realizes something. 

His favorite superhero… is you. (L/n)(y/n). 

You were one of his favorite people. He didn’t know why, but he sure does now. 

Megumi starts furiously writing on the paper. He wanted to get all of his thoughts out before they were lost. 

“Hmm, let me see what you’re doing.” Megumi hears Gojo's voice and he jumps a little bit. He was so engrossed doing his homework, he didn’t even hear Gojo’s footsteps. 

He is quiet for a few seconds while reading his work. A smile graces his face. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Gojo says. 

“It’s not about you, so I don’t care how you feel.” 

“But my name is written down here.” 

“Cause I’m explaining how (y/n) is the only one that can handle you. Anyone that can handle you is a superhero in my books.” 

You walked in while Megumi explained this. And you laughed. 

“Oh, Megumi,” you say while walking over to the boys. “It’s very sweet of you to think of me as a superhero, but I’m not handling him.” 

Megumi tilts his head, a bit confused. 

“I’m with him because I love him for who he is. Even if he does have a big personality… it’s what I love about him.” Gojo grins as wide as he could at your words. “Awe, I love you too, sugarplum.” Gojo says while leaning down to capture your lips for a split second. 

You giggle, “even if his nicknames are next level horrendous.” 

Gojo pouts at your words, while Megumi’s stomach churns in disgust. 

It wasn’t disgusting like he'd just seen something gory. It was a disgust, like two parents showing affection to each other.

[shroomi1e]

❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 2

Pinky Promise Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C

It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.

The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.

A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.

Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.

The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.

The tacos I promised you. – Jake

A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.

You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.

You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.

Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.

Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.

“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.

“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.

“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.

“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”

Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.

Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.

“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.

“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.

“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.

Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.

Until tonight.

The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.

A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.

He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.

“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.

“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.

“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.

He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.

“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.

He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.

“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”

The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.

“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.

“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.

“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.

Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.

You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”

Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”

Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.

You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”

Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”

You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”

You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”

You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”

Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.

“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”

You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”

Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”

Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”

A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[hezzabeth]

There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.

In a field where the paper daisies grow,

Underneath the sun's harsh glow,

I wander through, light and free.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The smoke coils in the sky far above,

But your petals still dance around me.

Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.

Everything lost will grow again.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The stars begin to rise,

My hands scooping your seeds.

Soon you will take flight

Towards the soft moonlight.

There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.

Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.

“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.

"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.

"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.

"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.

"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.

The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.

"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.

Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.

"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.

"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.

"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.

Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.

One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.

"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.

"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.

Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.

"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.

"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.

It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.

"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.

"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.

"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.

"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.

"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.

"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.

"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.

"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.

"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.

Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.

"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.

"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.

"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.

"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.

"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.

Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.

Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.

"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.

"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.

"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.

"You were sleeping with him."

"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.

"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.

"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.

"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.

"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.

"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.

"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.

"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.

Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.

"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.

"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.

"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.

"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.

"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.

"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.

"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.

The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.

"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.

Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.

"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.

Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.

"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.

"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.

"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.

"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.

"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.

Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.

"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.

"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.

"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.

Revati stared at him and shook her head.

"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.

"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.

"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.

"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.

"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.

"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.

"No," Revati said firmly.

"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.

"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.

"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.

"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ best christmas ever ] q. hughes

day eight of malia’s christmas fic marathon

pairing : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) gives fiancé Quinn what could be considered the best Christmas present he’s ever gotten

warning(s) : pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage

author’s note : i think this could be considered a blurb w how short it is tbh but here’s this cute lil thing :)

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Her hands shake as Quinn unwraps the present that is going to change his entire life. Keeping this a secret for nearly two weeks has been killing her so the fact that her fiancé is seconds away from finding out is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

It's the last present that is being unwrapped this morning while it's just the two of them in their Vancouver apartment. (Y/N) made sure it was the last present unwrapped by taking it out of the closet after all the gifts under the tree from friends and family were opened.

Quinn tosses the ripped up wrapping paper into the trash bag on the ground between them before he opens the box.

Inside is a little Canucks jersey with Quinn's number and 'C'. Quinn is clearly very confused by the tiny jersey so she says, "Turn it around, Quinn."

Laughter is evident in her voice but she doesn't know if it's because of Quinn's confusion or because she's nervous.

She watches his eyes widen when he sees the back of the jersey. In place of Hughes on the back of the jersey is the word "daddy". Quinn looks over at (Y/N) with those wide eyes. "You better not be lying to me, (Y/N)," he says so seriously.

"Eight weeks," she tells him as she rests a hand on the very tiny bump that is under the large t-shirt she's wearing. "I found out three weeks ago and went to make sure everything was okay two weeks ago. When I was told that everything with this baby was perfect, I got the jersey made."

After they lost their last little one over the summer very early on, she didn't want to get Quinn's hopes up again so she went and got every single test done that she could before she told him. The last thing she wanted was to tell him then lose another baby. It nearly broke her in June, and almost broke them.

She couldn't do that again. Not this time.

"You kept this from me for three weeks?" Quinn asks. His voice is soft so he isn't mad. She stays quiet and nods. "Is everything okay?"

(Y/N) slowly nods, still hesitant. "Baby H is growing and developing at the rate they're supposed to be this time," she assures him. "I'm healthy. Baby is healthy. I just needed to be sure before I told you this time. I know how much you want to be a dad and I didn't want to get your hopes up then my body let you down for the second time."

Tears that she didn't know formed in her eyes spill onto her cheeks. She does her best to wipe them away quickly, but he notices them.

Quinn puts the jersey back in the box and moves close to her. He pulls her into a tight hug and she buries her face into his shoulder.

"Your body just wasn't ready last time," Quinn softly tells her as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I love you. I'm so excited to be here with you for the rest of your pregnancy. You're already an amazing mom."

She lets out a silent sob into Quinn's shoulder before she pulls back. "You're not mad I didn't tell you when I found out?" she questions.

"Absolutely not," he assures her with a smile on his lips. She can see that he's genuine when he says that. "I'm happy to know now. I can't wait to go to every appointment with you now. I can't wait to see our baby when you have an ultrasound done. I can't wait to tell all our friends and family and my teammates. I can't wait to meet Baby H. (Y/N), I'm so excited."

His happiness quickly erases any anxiety she felt before he opened that box. She can tell how excited he is about the next chapter in their lives. "Glad I didn't ruin your Christmas by telling you," she jokes.

"Are you kidding?" Quinn says. "This is probably the best Christmas ever. We're going to have a baby. This is the best present I think I have ever gotten on Christmas. Knowing we're going to start the family we have always wanted together is the best present."

A smile finally forms on (Y/N)'s lips. "We're going to have a baby," she softly echoes. Quinn nods and matches her smile.

She launches herself at him, finally sharing the happiness that Quinn is feeling. He falls onto his back onto the carpeted floor and catches her in his arms. He laughs and wraps his arms around her waist. He stares up at his fiancée. "We get to finally be parents," he tells her. "Our rainbow baby."

"Our rainbow baby."

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