#i should have remembered toast is NOT my friend it always makes me feel worse it just doesnt smell weird so i keep trusting it :((

[sucre-blue]

rice has never ever betrayed me ✨💜 i love you rice

[ericsprincess]

awake I love this

Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.

~~~

“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast. 

Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone. 

The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality. 

He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you. 

So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon. 

He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed. 

He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little. 

Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.  

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten. 

~~~

You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door. 

So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room. 

Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone. 

“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door. 

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room. 

“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize. 

The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red. 

“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go. 

~~~

Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny. 

You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already. 

But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it. 

You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal. 

“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start. 

“Yeah?” he prompts you.

“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking. 

“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next. 

“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.

You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing. 

“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt  and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him. 

“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back. 

“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving. 

It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.

“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was. 

You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even… 

“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest. 

Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed. 

[wretchedmosses]

Cycle

I woke up at 9 today, but I left my bed at 11. It always seems to happen that way. I just lay there until my hours are gone. Hoping noone sees me, that I'll be left well enough alone for a little bit if I don't move much, that things will be quiet and I can sleep. Eventually, I do get up, though.

My head is heavy. I feel weak, there's something gummy between the ears. That means I haven't eaten enough. My hair feels greasy as I touch it, I haven't showered in a little while. Maybe a few days. Those are both better than they used to be, I think. There isn't much in the house, so I start to make some toast. My father is awake now, he comes to show me the news he found today.

Malaria and dengue fever are running rampant in our home state, and the podcasters he likes have mixed feelings about the Barbie movie. cool.

The toaster pops at me loudly, insistently. I don't remember putting the bread in. Guess I got absorbed in his talking. These things he talks about have a way of biting. I think as I work in the kitchen, think about the danger we're in. The money I've made and spent and it feels like on nothing in particular, but I don't know if I'd be here if I hadn't spent it and I don't know how much longer I could go on making it. The new workplace is crushing me with nerves. I've never worked an office before, these new people are terrifying and they expect me to speak to them. It's only been a week and I don't know if I feel better or worse than I did at the last job, or during the time between. Everything seemed dim and hopeless then, but it's not that it doesn't now. I guess what I really wanted was something to take the time off my hands. So they'd stop shouting me down for my hobbies, so I'd be a real adult. Do I feel adult?

Oh, the toast is jellied and plated. I could make some tea or coffee, but my teeth are getting worse. I should be saving for my first dental appointment, but I have a whole list of stuff to save for, and I still haven't decided how I'll budget, have I? I guess I'll put that on the list today.

It's a big list now. I don't know if that's good.

The tasks seem to fill a gap there for a while, but I'll feel bad when not all of it is done, won't I? It's all so important, too. To someone else or to me, and few in betweens. It doesn't feel very adult for a to-do list to be so thoughtful and crushing. They're not very outlandish tasks for my age or anything.

I'm sitting to eat now, and I haven't even written any of my tasks down. I'm starting to lose them already. What did I just say I'd add?

I've eaten, and I'm not in so much pain or exhaustion when I stand. My head still feels wrong, but it's been a while since it felt right. Maybe the shower will do it. Or the water, or the tasks. I don't know how I can be so strong to think about other tasks when it's so hard to take care of myself already.

Is that strength? Is that adulthood? I don't feel strong. I don't feel grown.

I wish there had been more time, but I don't rue how I spent it. I was happy in those days. I didn't know the sun well then, but with it missing, I miss it so badly now. It's sunny, but my sky is dark.

In a week I won't remember today. I'll pity my past self for thinking it was so bad then. Or maybe I'll weep for the state I was in. I can't see the bottom, I can't even feel if I've hit it. Maybe that's why I feel sick, and my head is reeling. I hope I've gone as low as I can. There might still be hope of reaching the surface again.

I'm going to have my shower. I'll drink my water, play a game. I have a meetup with my friends tomorrow, and with my DND group today. That thought makes me smile a little. Maybe I'll go for a walk, too. It's not good to be inside so long, my freckles are fading. I'm sure my dad won't like that, but I don't want to think about that. There's a happy picture at the end of the line. I think I can make that a scene from my life. Maybe it's just a matter of the effort I put in. I haven't got much left in my bones, but for joy, I'll lift with my whole back.

[stargazer-sims]

Worth the Wait

Nikolai: I had a great time tonight. Thanks for inviting me. I had no idea a corporate function could be that much fun, and I definitely liked the casual dress code.

Ginger: One thing I can say for Mr. Fujikawa is that he knows how to throw a brilliant party. When he said I could bring someone, I thought of you straight away.

Nikolai: Because you thought I’m the sort of person who might enjoy free food and a good sales pitch for sports equipment?

Ginger: I saw the way you were looking at those skis.

Nikolai: I do kind of want a pair. And the food and drinks were fantastic.

Ginger: The real reason I invited you was because there were a lot of athletes and coaches there. If you’re going to be living in Mt. Komorebi for a while, I reckoned it’d be good for you to get to know some people in the sports community.

Nikolai: Thanks. I appreciate that, and I did meet a lot of people. But, I’m glad I left the party with you.

Ginger: I wasn’t about to let you leave with some other person, was I? That woman from the Yukimatsu Recreation Association was trying awfully hard.

Nikolai: I didn’t want to leave with her. I wanted to leave with you.

Ginger: Was there some reason in particular?

Nikolai: Maybe I wanted you to walk me home.

Ginger: I’ve done that.

Nikolai: So, uh… I guess I’ll see you at the rink tomorrow?

Ginger: Are you in a rush to see me off?

Nikolai: No. No, not at all. It's the total opposite, actually, but I...

Ginger: Yes? You what?

Nikolai: Well, there's something I feel like doing, but I don't know if I should. I don't know if it'd be okay.

Ginger: Why don't you do it, and then we'll see?

Nikolai: But, you don't even know what it is.

Ginger: Perhaps I do.

Nikolai: If you're sure...

Ginger: Nothing risked, nothing gained, Nik.

*kisses*

Nikolai: I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that! No... I did mean to, but you're my friend, and...

Ginger: Nikolai.

Nikolai: What? Are you upset? I'm really sorry.

Ginger: Nik, stop. It's okay. I'm not upset. I liked it.

Nikolai: You did?

Ginger: I've been waiting ages for you to do that.

Nikolai: You have?

Ginger: I ought to tell you the truth.

Nikolai: The truth about what?

Ginger: About you. About how I feel.

Nikolai: You feel some kind of way about me? I mean, of course you do, but like... that way?

Ginger: I do. I have for quite a long time, as a matter of fact. I had a crush on you from the time we first met, but at some point along the way I truly fell in love with you. But, it was something I couldn’t… I could never say it.

Nikolai: Why not?

Ginger: Because there was Anya, and then Mikhail, and then I married Liam and we moved away. It all felt so insurmountable, and I didn't want to make things even worse. But perhaps I've made it worse anyway.

Nikolai: No, you haven't. I think you solved everything.

Ginger: What do you mean?

Nikolai: Do you know how happy I was when I realized I'd be working out of the same rink as you? At first, I didn't even want to come here. I was terrified to leave home, but I did it for Eden, and then when I found out this was the exact town you were living in, I just... felt better about the whole thing somehow.

Ginger: How so?

Nikolai: Remember that night when you saw me skating Eden's long program?

Ginger: When you twisted your knee.

Nikolai: And you brought me home and made me peanut butter toast and let me fall asleep on you. Yeah, that night. I thought about saying something to you then.

Ginger: Why didn't you?

Nikolai: Because I was scared.

Ginger: Why?

Nikolai: Because I didn't want to tell you how I felt and then find out you didn't feel the same. I think that would've hurt way too much, and it might’ve messed up our friendship. But, now you said it, and...

Ginger: And you aren't scared now?

Nikolai: No.

Ginger: What would you have said to me that night?

Nikolai: I would've said that I think I've felt that way about you for a long time too, and I'd have apologized for not seeing it sooner. I've always loved you as a friend, but I didn't understand it was more than that until I got here and saw you in person again and realized how much better my life is with you in it. I don't know why I never figured it out until now.

Ginger: You were occupied with other people.

Nikolai: I guess that's the polite way of putting it.

Ginger: It's all right.

Nikolai: No, it isn't. Maybe if I hadn't been so clueless, things wouldn't be so complicated right now.

Ginger: You mean Mikhail?

Nikolai: Yeah. I never would've agreed for Mishka to come here if we'd had this conversation before.

Ginger: What will you do?

Nikolai: I don't know. I'll be honest with you, though. I still have feelings for him.

Ginger: Do you?

Nikolai: Yeah, but we've been apart for almost six years, and I don't think it’s reasonable to assume we could go back to the way we were.

Ginger: I think that’s fair. None of us ever stays the same, so of course our relationships often don’t.

Nikolai: Besides that, I doubt Mishka would want to move here to Japan, and I can't go home until the spring at least, and long-distance relationships are hard. I’m not convinced there’s enough between us for me to be willing to commit to that.

Ginger: You'll have to tell him.

Nikolai: I know. I don't want to hurt him, but I know I have to tell him the truth.

Ginger: If you need time, I understand.

Nikolai: You'll wait?

Ginger: I've waited this long already, haven't I?

Nikolai: I'll try not to make you wait too much longer, I promise. I just need to think of the right way to tell him, and I think I might need to explain it to Anya too.

Ginger: Why don't you leave Anya to me?

Nikolai: You'd do that?

Ginger: To protect you, I absolutely would. She's hurt you enough already, and I don't think its necessary to put yourself in harm's way any more. You actually don't owe her an explanation, in any case. Unless there's something you haven't told me?

Nikolai: No. You know everything already. It's strictly a physical arrangement.

Ginger: No more of that, all right? I don't fancy the idea of sharing you.

Nikolai: After this, I'm all yours.

Ginger: And she’s got to arrange a hotel room for herself when she arrives. I won’t have her sleeping here, even if she’s not in your bed.

Nikolai: *smiling* So, you’re going to be a jealous lover?

Ginger: When it comes to Anya? Unquestionably.

Nikolai: I love you.

Ginger: I love you. Try not to worry, all right? Everything'll sort itself out.

Nikolai: Are you sure?

Ginger: As certain as I can be.

Nikolai: Okay I trust you. But…

Ginger: What is it?

Nikolai: I just thought of something. It goes without saying, we need to be straightforward when we tell Mishka and Anya, but how are we supposed to explain this to Eden and Sebastian?

Ginger: Let’s solve one problem at a time, shall we? We ought to make sure our path is clear first. Then we can work out how best to share our news with the boys.

[cigvrettedvet]

maeve & logan.

           on tinder, logan felt like she could talk for days. she was good at curating a witty, charming message because she could think about it for twenty minutes. often she’d be stuck at work, waiting for something to happen, and get lonely. wish she had someone to talk to. “i don’t. i don’t act this blunt and i don’t know why the fuck i am…” she trailed off, shaking her head and laughing. too many beers. maybe the random nurse girl was right, but logan didn’t necessarily know how else to present herself. she wasn’t good at talking to people unless she was drunk. and then when she got a bit too drunk, she was worse off than before! “damn, dude. that really sucks… if my girl was sleeping with my best friend? well… i’d wonder what a gay dude is doing fucking a woman. and then tell him that i want full custody of our kid.” yup, just lay it out all on the table. but what does it matter? it’s not like maeve was going to be anything significant… probably. wouldn’t that be just her luck? “nah, don’t worry about owing me anything. you deserve it after i verbally assaulted you. i owe you, actually. like… two more. before we both pass out and are never allowed in this bar ever again.” she looked sheepish, and maybe she was flirting but who could tell anymore. “logan. and… no. we’re not cheersing to that! because i think that we’ve found the solution, maeve. i think that we are in this bar. the two of us. no one else. you know what? we should get married. so then neither of us will be alone and we can promise to not cheat on each other with each other’s best friends.” silly, stupid logan. she can’t even tell how much she’d regret that decision if it went into motion.

                “it’s definitely cute though so i don’t necessarily mind it,” maeve assured. used to being the more forward one, she liked the slight change. maybe it helps that she’s already just a little smitten with the other woman who was helping to distract her from her already shitty night. “you have a kid? with a gay best friend?” maeve needed to hear that story. she had a feeling it’d be an interesting one. “fine, but only two more. i’m supposed to make sure you don’t get alcohol poisoning, remember?” at this point though, they both might with how much they were drinking. maeve’s slightly surprised when logan turns down her toast but before she could ask, logan continued on with her idea and it was certainly . . . something. maeve had expected a full blown romance story before she got married. but at this point? maeve figured she’d take the opportunity presented to her. “i always wanted to be married. i imagined the proposition would be a little different but hey, what the hell?” maeve shrugs. it’s partially the drinks talking and the other half is her attraction towards logan that’ll make her agree to something ultimately foolish just to not be alone. “i think i’d make a good wife. i don’t really require much, except for your undivided attention. that’s not too much to ask for, isn’t it?” it probably was. she hadn’t been called demanding and clingy for no reason. “we should get married tonight. i’m ready to be mrs... what’s your last name?”

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS [part 5]

— people with jupiter in the 8th may experience an “abundance” of traumatic experiences throughout life, often relating to death; these are the people who truly feel like everyone they love ends up dying. at their worst, they can become desensitized to death— jupiter is ruled by sagittarius, a sign known for being in denial when in difficult situations in favor of optimism. these natives can pretend like nothing actually happened, or minimize the situation in their head so that they don’t have to face it.

— okay this might be a weird one... like, you know in asoiaf when arya was walking through the streets and was always like “i’m as quiet as a shadow”? that’s literally the energy of someone with planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house. these people are so stealthy. they’re able to move so quietly and without anyone noticing, both literally and figuratively. on one hand, they’re very quiet about their plans and ambitions to the point where other people only find out when they’re achieving success over it; on the other hand, they just. don’t like making noise while walking idk bitch you’ll only see me coming when i’m right beside you, i even get paranoid that i’m breathing too loud and that other people will hear 

— people with moon aspecting mars can be incredibly impulsive when they feel hurt or triggered. yall need to be careful with doing things in the heat of the moment that you know you’ll regret later... but in the moment, you feel so hurt that it clouds your rational side. please be more self-aware about this because you may make decisions that will directly affect you for the worse in the future 

— people with leo mars ft. constantly asking you for pictures... about anything. they just wanna SEE LMFAO THEY DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS THEY’RE SEEING. you just got ready to go out? “send pics of your makeup and your full outfit”. you’re waiting in a long boring line to get the covid vaccine? “send pics of the line”. your mom baked cake? “send pics of the cake”. plus they send so many random pictures while texting, it’s their special love language

— having moon conjunct moon/venus in synastry feels insane. you tell them something you’ve been through, and they’re immediately like “that happened with me as well.” it doesn’t even have to be something grand, sometimes just very specific things you thought were particular about you. the amount of understanding that comes with this aspect in synastry can feel very new and intense especially if you’re used to seeing yourself as the “odd one out”, used to feeling isolated in your experiences 

— people with pluto in the 1st house often feel the need to erase “traces” of their existence, for example deleting messages that they sent people, deleting all of their social media posts. they can feel anxious and paranoid about other people having access to their past self, even if the past self in question is from, like. a week ago 

— people with chiron in the water houses (4th/8th/12th) might’ve suffered bullying to the point where they repress their memories. a lot of their memories of their school years may feel foggy if they were bullied in those years

— also. people with chiron in the 8th house may feel as though they’ve been punished for wanting to experience intimacy. it’s like, the people who were supposed to be the closest to them – for example, their sibling or something – were the ones who hurt them the most. 

— people with mercury-neptune aspects and strong pisces/neptune energy in their birth chart might struggle with only remembering things when they’re right in front of them. you should keep things in your peripheral vision to remind you of reality, especially when it comes to feelings— so that you won’t start getting lost inside your own head. like... keep the letters your friends wrote you by your bedside table so you can read them every time your brain starts convincing you that you’re not loved. keep the gifts you’ve been sent on display in your bedroom wall, or sentimental material things that remind you of past happy experiences.

— earth placements and their thing for asmr... omfg. it’s like they’re always looking for things to up their sensory experience/sensitivity. like, earth signs are the ones most connected to worldly experiences so they feel so soothed with the whole asmr experience: just hearing someone gently whispering or tapping on/scratching things calms them down and helps them fall asleep. they love the tingles it’s heaven for them

— moon-saturn aspects might hold and caress themselves while they sleep because their parents never did. yes i woke up and chose violence <3 your secret is NOT safe with me 💋

— while we’re on the topic of sleeping, a majority of the pisces moons i know need to sleep while hugging something, at least a pillow. they can’t just not hug something while they sleep, it’s very instinctive for them. anyways if any pisces moon needs a pillow to hold, i volunteer as tribute 💋

— virgo placements feel sososo soothed by hearing their cats purr. thinking about how my virgo placement friends are always the ones who send me videos of them petting their cats... and then i get soothed by how soothed they feel. it’s a win win situation, if you have virgo placements it’s hereby your duty to send me a video of you petting your cat while they purr. right now. GO

— people with gemini in the 3rd house might have shaky movements of the hands when other people look at them doing things. very specific i know but the third house rules hands and gemini is a sign that has somewhat of an anxious, twitchy quality to it. on the other hand, people with capricorn in the 3rd house (scorpio risings, using whole signs) have the steadiest hands i’ve ever seen lol their movements ooze confidence, these bitches know how to make you feel as thought they know exactly what they’re doing

— people with venus in the 1st house ft. altering their pics with photoshop and hating posting selfies without filters because they never feel like their appearance is good enough. stop it. you don’t need to always look your best and especially not if your ‘best’ isn’t even what you actually look like. also... don’t even think about making self-deprecative jokes about your appearance. next time i find one of yall saying “ahaha im not bad for a 5 without talent” i’m squishing your head between 2 pieces of toast and calling you an idiot sandwich. you’re BEAUTIFUL 

— having venus in the 3rd house in composite with someone? do you mean calling each other the absolute ugliest nicknames in the most endearing way? 

— leo deals with themes of the ego, and it seems that leo placements often struggle with attracting narcissistic people into their life... leo suns/mercuries can be raised by loud, overbearing, narcissistic parents who see their kid as an extension of themselves and who teach the kid to always be very supportive and caring towards them or else they’ll deny them of words of affirmation-- either by insulting them to shatter their self-esteem or simply never complimenting the kid back. leo moons/mars/venus tend to attract narcissistic partners who only care about serving their own emotional needs and ignore the ones of their partner, and who feed off of their supportive and giving nature. which is why leo placements really need to watch out for being gullible, naïve and dismissing the red flags because my god, you be falling for some shady people. 

— people with personal planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house might feel like they can’t let go of their past life— they may dream of memories, people or places from another life. it’s like they can’t detach from it, and even if they can’t directly remember their past life, it’s like they feel it in their bones. also, they might’ve felt... estranged from their family ever since childhood; there may have been feelings of being unable to emotionally connect to their (often, distant) parents, and they might’ve even wondered if they were adopted because of how different they felt to the rest of the family. 

— okay so, a thing that people with saturn in the 3rd house need to look out for is mentally checking out of conversations while they’re still happening. these people can detect when they’re being manipulated really fast and their way of dealing with it can be to immediately shut down, to grow cold and silent and not even bother answering when you’re expected to respond. and, like, that’s great when someone starts screaming at you or being insulting/trying to coerce you into shit, but take notice if you find yourself shutting your loved ones out as soon as they say anything that triggers you. don’t simply detach from them, communicate what’s wrong

— aries placements, ESPECIALLY aries suns and moons, value generosity so much and they get so turned off by stingy ppl who don’t share with others, especially when others need it. like.. if you’re hanging out in a group with them and someone asks for a bite of your food because they have no money and you say no... espect them to never respect you. ever. 

— people with libra placements use soooo many adjectives to describe things. something can’t just be beautiful, it has to be DIVINE and CELESTIAL and INTOXICATING. they can be so expressive god it’s so fcking funny 

— capricorn placements HATE asking others for advice because they think no one knows better than them (and they’re not wrong, lol). when they truly care for someone, they might ask the person for advice simply as a sign that they respect, trust and value their judgement. even if they don’t plan on taking it LMFAO 

— people with mars in a water sign can have this terrible habit of expecting other people to guess what they want. and then they get passive agressive when you don’t instinctively feel what it is they want... and when you ask them “do you want this?”, they go like “FINALLY. i thought you’d never get there”. stop it. i know that you want people to understand you in a way that transcends words, but you can’t expect people to read your mind and then get disappointed when they don’t, thinking “oh if they loved me that much then they would’ve known that i really want chipotle for dinner :(” GIRL WHAT. COMMUNICATE YOUR NEEDS  

[lilac-and-lemon-whumps]

Chow

@themerrywhumpofmay day four: “Shoulders back, eyes on me.” 

Movie marathon | Choking | Forced feeding

Takes place about three days after Diego receives his new pet. 

Part 1 | Part 3

Cw: vampire whumper/dubious caretaker, pet whump, refusal to eat, forced feeding, captivity, dehumanization, it as a pronoun, background lady whumper, Stockholm syndrome like thoughts for past whumper, fear of death.

“¿Qué haces, chandoso?”

Sometimes when Micah closed his eyes and listened hard enough, he could hear Miss Silva’s voice, repeating like the broken Luis Spinetta record Micah had once scratched and earned a rather memorable whipping for. More often than not, he didn’t even need to try, but only turn his head a certain way and feel Miss Silva’s palm on his jaw or the sting of a backhand.

“Stop that. I’ve trained you better than this.”

It could be night or afternoon. There was no way to tell in his windowless enclosure. Micah had long since given up on trying to keep track of the hypothetical days he’d been with his new owner. The only reference points he had were waking to the always dark room or when his new owner, Diego, he’d called himself, arrived to unleash him. Sometimes there would be food waiting on a tray at the foot of his bed.

“I should have listened to my friends. They told me to get a real cachorro, pero no, no, I didn’t listen. You know who else doesn’t listen? Tell me, Chow. Who never listens to me?”

Once there was a banana and some toasted bread on the tray. The next day there were two burned fried eggs and something that may have been mashed potatoes. It was always a different combination, never a pattern to it. But Micah was a good pet. He may have a new owner, but he remembered Miss Silva’s trainings. 

She would be so proud of him, wouldn’t she?

“Buen chico, now you’re remembering your manners.”

Micah was so, so hungry. But he could be good. He had to be. 

His wrists were sore. His owner kept him tied to the bed from time to time, only breaking the leash to let Micah walk around his enclosure for a bit or use the small bathroom adjoined to the space. It was an incredible reward to use a real bathroom and drink from a faucet rather than a bowl—and don’t get him started on the lack of a cage, the privileges were almost overwhelming—and Micah was definitely not about to make Mr. Diego think he was ungrateful, heavens forbid complaining about something as honorable as a leash. 

This leash is a privilege, chandoso. Remember that. I would not waste my time with a pet who did not deserve to wear my collar.

He remembered his trainings like a lifeline and welcomed Miss Silva’s memory lest he screw up and give Mr. Diego a reason to take away Micah’s treats. The hunger grew until Micah could only fall into a stilted sleep to distract from the aches. It was unpleasant, but Micah had suffered worse. And besides, the rewards always made up for the pain.

Tap-tap. 

Cli-ick.

Micah sucked in a breath as the door to his enclosure turned. Best behavior, best behavior. 

“Good evening, little one.” Mr. Diego stood in the door, another tray in his hand. When he set it on the bed, Micah quickly averted his eyes. Two oranges and a bowl of what looked like sweet grains. 

“Best behavior, Chow.” 

“Today we’re gonna try something different.”

Micah tried not to react. He liked the easy tone of his new owner, the melodic Spanish slipping off his tongue reminiscent of Miss Silva. What he did not like were those words. What had he done wrong already? He hadn’t ate anything like a good pet, so why—

Mr. Diego was still speaking. “You haven’t been eating the food I’ve laid out, and while I will be the first to admit I don’t know everything about, you know—“ Mr. Diego waved his hands in same vague fashion, laughing at some joke Micah did not understand—“it’s common sense that humans have to eat something every day. Even children know that.” Micah couldn’t make sense of the words so he didn’t try. His brain fuzzed out somewhere after you haven’t been eating, and Micah had to quell a proud smile that his new owner noticed his manners. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble after all.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you listening? Eyes up here.”

And just like that, the broken record. Scratching, scratching—

“You’re not a wild animal, Chow. Don’t act like it. Head down, shoulders back, eyes up here. Are you listening?”

Micah was listening. He was. He was not a wild animal, he was trained, he was tamed, he was a good pet, (he was so hungry), no, he was going to be good and earn his treat—

Snap. Micah’s eyes shot up to Mr. Diego who now stood next to the bed, head tilted down at his pet. Mr. Diego slowly retracted his hand where he’d clicked his fingers. “Hey, now. Let’s get these ties off you. I’ve got some better ones coming in but they’re on back order at the moment. Supply chains, you know?” His lips twitched in a smile. “Forgive the pun.”

Micah did not know. He waited patiently while Mr. Diego broke the leash on each wrist. Better ones or not, his new owner seemed to have an endless supply of this kind. Maybe Mr. Diego was as rich as Miss Silva. It was hard to tell in Micah’s enclosure, but he vaguely remembered passing a sprawling driveway the night he’d been transported.

When the leash was gone, Micah tensed. Mr. Diego had never waited around like he did now. Either the tray would be at the foot of the bed, or it would not be. 

Watching his owner from the corner of his eyes, Micah realized. This must be the final test to show his new owner Micah’s manners. If that was the case, Micah was set. Miss Silva may be—Micah blinked away the thought—but he would make her proud. He would. 

“I’m almost certain I know there won’t be an answer to this,” Mr. Diego spoke as if more to himself, “but I may as well try anyway. Will you tell me why you haven’t been eating, little one?”

Little one. Micah quite liked the term. It was different than Chow. 

Mr. Diego waited. The silence stretched. 

See. Micah was such a good dog. Maybe Mr. Diego would call him that name again. 

“Of course. Alright, erm.” Mr. Diego hummed before snatching up one of the oranges and started to peel it. It only took but the first swipe of his claw-like-nail to demolish a quarter of the orange, peel nearly intact. 

Micah stopped a laugh just in time. Silly master. People can’t eat dog food. 

“Well, that was a bust.” Micah’s owner grumbled to himself and picked up the other orange, still whole. The humor that had bubbled in Micah’s throat quickly died when Mr. Diego reached out his hand as if to give Micah the ball shaped fruit. 

“I need you to eat for me, sweetheart. I don’t know why you haven’t yet. Faria doesn’t think you could be allergic to everything I’ve tried so far, so I need you to either tell me what’s wrong or I’ll have to feed you myself. And I think we both can guess how much I’d rather not do that.”

Sweetheart, Faria, allergic. It was a jumble of mishmash lost in the record of eat for me, eat for me, eat for me. 

“I haven’t given you permission yet, chandoso. What pet eats before its Mistress? If you can’t remember a simple rule, maybe the cage will remind you.”

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? I don’t know how to help you if you don’t speak up, but there’s no—“ “Stop that. Dogs do not speak. Head down, shoulders back. Eyes on me.”

“—reason to start crying, sweetheart.” Micah’s owner rubbed his own face, irises the color of autumn leaves deepening in thought. Miss Silva’s were—had been (no, don’t think about it)—a darker shade of currant, almost black when Micah screwed up. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said again, “but I think food will help. You and me both, that is, because even I’m not a dick enough to feed from you when you’re this…”

If Mr. Diego finished his sentence, Micah didn’t hear it. What did Mr. Diego mean, feeding from him? Micah must have heard wrong. Because Micah was a pet. Micah wasn’t food. Didn’t Mr. Diego have the right animals for that? 

Good dogs were pets. Bad, bad animals were food. 

Unless….

“I promise I do not want to hurt you,” Mr. Diego was saying as he gave up on the orange and brought the untouched bowl over to Micah. “But this is for your own good, little one. Open your mouth for me. Shoulders back, sit up now.” Shoulders back, eyes up here. You’re not a wild animal. Bad, bad animals get their blood drank and thrown away. Won’t you be a good Chow?

The second his new owner forced Micah’s jaw open, Micah could only cry out. Of course he had no claws or fangs like Miss Silva or Mr. Diego to protect himself. But his new owner was far too strong for him to even consider struggling anyway, and the horror of the situation was only finally hitting Micah in full force. He was supposed to be a pet. That’s what he was trained for. 

Not food.

Micah broke the number one rule. 

“Sir, I-I can be good. Please.”

He spoke. He did, but…wasn’t he justified? Miss Silva hadn’t given him permission to eat (but Miss Silva’s…no, don’t think, you can’t think about that) and now Mr. Diego was going to make him disobey. 

Mr. Diego’s eyes grew wide. “Would you look at that. So you can speak."

A tremor laced Micah’s heart. He didn’t dare commit another infraction. How long had it even been since he’d lost spoken? 

Micah waited for the slap or the claws to come. If Micah feared right, would Mr. Diego use his fangs? Of all the things Miss Silva used to reprimand Micah, she had made it clear what Micah’s purpose was. 

But now? Micah was so very lost. 

“Scare easily, huh,” Mr. Diego muttered. “If you can be good, why are we doing this the hard way? Oh come now, there’s no need for that.” 

Setting the bowl down on the bed’s side table, he cradled the back of Micah’s head with one hand, all strong muscle and sinew keeping Micah in place. Micah remembered how Miss Silva would grab him similarly. Instead of Mr. Diego keeping Micah immobile, though, Miss Silva had a preference for yanking Micah by the hair until clumps fell out in patches. It had grown out in the recent past, but maybe Micah’s new owner wouldn’t want to keep it that way.

“Alright, shhh. Wipe that look off your face, little one. I’m doing this for your own good, you know.”

With his other hand, Mr. Diego reached down and pinched Micah’s nose to halt the airflow. For the first few seconds, Micah used all his willpower not to struggle. It was instinct to try to pull back, but what is instinct to a trained dog? 

But Micah was not like his superiors. He was more than aware of his own weakness before this figure, and that was disregarding the fact he’d had nothing to fill his stomach but water in the past however many days it had been. Unable to grasp what purpose his new owner intended for Micah, on top of his already weakened state, Micah lost the battle quickly. Chest burning, lungs aching, Micah could only drop his mouth in desperation and gasp for air. 

But there was hardly a reprieve because only a second later, Mr. Diego was forcing the first spoonful of sweet grains down Micah’s throat. The thought of it not staying down was enough for Micah to clench at the bedsheets, stomach curling in fear. It never even crossed his mind to try to push away with his hands now freed. 

Micah was eating.

Micah was a bad, bad dog.

“Swallow, sweetheart. Stop crying, you’ll choke. You need to eat.” 

And everyone knows what happens to bad animals. 

I want to be good. 

I need to be good.

Please. 

"You’re lucky, you know,” Miss Silva liked to say, the words a brand in Micah’s mind as the next spoonful burned a hole down his throat. 

“You’re lucky that I only call you Chow.”

*

Taglist: @mylifeisonthebookshelf @deluxewhump @thecyrulik @melancholy-in-the-morning

[charliedawn]

How would they react if you were to marry someone else? (Warning : I love writing sad stories)

" I'm so happy for you. I hope that you'll have the best life together. You deserve it."

He smiles and pretends that it doesn't hurt him as much as it really does. After having spent so many times doing it, faking perfect happiness has become easy for him. He loves you, he always loved you..but now, he has to see you at the arm of another man/woman and it takes all of his willpower not to cry. He knows he can't do anything, but he still wishes that you would see..see how much he cares and would do anything to be that person by your side. But, he will not be as selfish as to tell you how he truly feels. He wants you to be happy. He thought Peggy would be the only person that he would ever want to see smile everyday, but that was before he met you. He wants you to be happy, this is why he doesn't want to be selfish and deprave you of that wonderful smile by actually saying how he truly feels. However, when the music starts and you don't find your husband/wife anywhere, he decides to step up. He stands in front of you with a gentle smile and a welcoming hand.

" May I ?"

You smile back and nod in agreement before taking his hand. You start waltzing and many people leave the way, as if they know..they know that this man is the one you should have married. Unfortunately, it seems that you hadn't gotten the memo in time, as you were the only one who understood too late..But what hurts the most ? It is that he seems genuinely happy for you. That smile tortures you. He wipes your tears away, tears that you hadn't felt rolling down your cheeks. He smiles again and you close your eyes, everything to stop looking at that smile..Suddenly, you feel someone tapping your shoulder. You open your eyes wide to see your husband/wife that addresses you a soft smile before glaring at Steve that glares right back. He crosses his arms, but finally says with a stern warning.

" If you hurt her/him..I will hurt you."

He simply states before turning around and walking away. You look at him walking away and can't help but chuckle as you remember something that Tony had said long ago.

" That is America's a**"

Your husband/wife looks at you with widened eyes, as if you had gone crazy and it only makes you laugh harder. Maybe you had ?

" This is quite the ceremony..In my 107 years on this planet, I don't remember ever being invited to a wedding."

"Too bad that my first had to be yours", he wants to add, but he had promised himself to behave today. He sits down and hangs his head low, not finding the strength to look at you again. He is afraid of what he'll find there..worse of all, he doesn't want to see pity..Nothing is worse than pity. Because, he knows he doesn't deserve it. However, your hand appears in his peripheral vision and he is forced to look up at you.

" Bucky Barnes, may I have this dance ?"

You ask and his eyes widen in surprise, looking around for your husband/wife to intervene. But, you're alone for now and he takes your hand. You yank him out of his seat and he finds himself smiling as you laugh when you both nearly fall under his weight.

" Come on, Barnes. Help me here. Get up !"

He laughs before finally getting up and you smile before dancing with him. At some point, you tenderly get some locks out of his face behind his ear and he grazes his lips over the top of your hand, a simple kiss that has more meaning than everything you had experienced so far. However, your husband/wife arrives and shatters the moment by taking your hand for a dance. Bucky has just the time to whisper something in the shell of your ear that makes you feel cold to the bone.

" I lost.."

He simply says, staring right at you with tears in his eyes and a small sorrowful smile. He feels terrible and knows that if he had acted sooner, you would have been his. But, he waited too long. He doesn't want to let you go without you knowing what he feels about you. He lost..He will never be the man who you will run to in your darkest moments, he would always remain Bucky, the best friend. You look at him, he looks back at you and you know..You know what those words mean. You smile sadly. Maybe..It could have been. But, it is too late now, and Bucky knows it. He smiles back too with tears rolling down his cheeks that he quickly wipes away. Nobody understands in the room, not even your husband/wife, but you do. You do. And, that's enough for him.

Many thought Tony was crying because he was moved, little did they know..Tony Stark was crying because he hadn't realized until you showed up in your wedding dress how much of an idiot he had been for not acting sooner. He could convince himself and others that he was a genius..but at that moment, he felt like the dumbest of them all. He wants to be that person that is holding your hand and kisses you gently while you exchange rings. He thought he had time, even when you said that you were getting engaged..He thought it wouldn't last. He had even tried to pay the man/woman to leave you alone. But, it is over now. He knows that there is no turning back. You're gone..and you would never be his. This is why the great Tony Stark was crying. However, he forces himself to smile now and laughs as he stands up to make a toast.

" I guess it's my turn. To Y/N L/N, the woman/man that is always willing to go the extra mile. The heart of the team. The person that always sees the bright side in people. You are one of a kind and nothing less than special. My only regret, is to have not noticed it sooner.."

He smiles at you and chuckles before raising his glass.

" I wish you nothing than what you deserve. Happiness. Happiness for now and forever."

You smile and raise your glass as well. The music soon plays and your husband/wife takes you hand to have the first dance. However, somebody else grabs it first and you turn around to see Tony that winks cheekily to your partner.

" Too slow. Don't worry, I may borrow you lovely bride/groom for five minutes, but you'll have them for the rest of your life."

You smile as your partner reluctantly lets you go. You follow Tony that succeeds in surprising you with his moves. He notices and chuckles.

" Didn't know I had moves like that, huh? Guess I can still surprise you.."

You shake your head and laugh while arking an eyebrow at him.

" Surprised that you know how to dance ? Nah. I've seen worse. In fact, I'm surprised you didn't crash my wedding with an helicopter screaming "I object !" before kidnapping me. Ah.."

The scene is so detailed that Tony wonders if you had imagined it, wished it even ?

" Would you have followed me ?"

He asks seriously, in a almost hopeful voice and you smile, almost dreamily, but your answer is as serious as his question.

" To Hell and back.."

Another proof that Tony Stark is an idiot: he had thought of it. He had thought of crashing your wedding and carrying you bridal style out of this downright ridiculous wedding..but he had hesitated. He is about to tell you that the alternative is still possible when he sees your husband/wife making their way to you. He closes his mouth. He has no right to take you away from them. He smiles one last time before kissing your forehead.

" Go back to your prince/princess, sweetheart..They deserve you the most."

" I'm fine..I'm fine."

He says to whoever asks him, so much that he starts actually believing it. However, it is another story when he sees you walk the aisle and can't help but have a lump in his throat as he contains his tears. Here you are, as beautiful and surreal as the first day he met you. Your kindness radiating from you so much that it almost hurts him to see how perfect you are. He wants to chase those thoughts from his head, he wants to stop loving you..But he can't. Just one look at you, and he knows that he is not fine. He is far from fine. His other half wants to get out an rip the man/woman that dared take you away from him, but he won't let him. He is not a monster, and he won't allow you to see him as anything else than nice inoffensive little Dr Banner, especially today. It is killing him to see you with such a smile that seems so genuine. To think that it is supposed to be your happiest day, and it is his worst. It only gets worse when you ask him to be your first dance..He is not a good dancer, he knows it. But, for once, he'll go beyond his safe zone and let you bring him to stand up and dance with you. Thankfully, you mostly take the lead and go slowly. He doesn't know what to say, so he just stays silent, admiring you. You look up at him and he can't help but smile back. Soon, the song is over and he opens his mouth to finally admit what he has always felt for you. But, other words come out.

" Congrats, Y/N..I'm happy for you."

Lies. Lies. He is not happy, he is miserable. But, he won't admit it, not when you smile at him and embrace him tightly like that..He finds that he has trouble to breathe. He knows that Hulk wouldn't let him, but he truly feels as if he is dying. He forces himself to smile as you take a step back and walk towards another guest. He follows you with his eyes before walking away. He should have known, who would ever want a monster like him ?

" You have a mighty warrior by your side. The best of them all. Be sure to make them happy and Y/N? I wish you many great adventures and..and.."

For once, the great Thor is lost for words. He is happy for you, but something in his chest burns. He should be happy as it is a joyous moment, but he can only fix his cup with uncertainty. You are one of his best friends..He should be happy for you, the words of encouragement and congratulations should flow from his mouth. Thor is not one to pass on good wine, but still, he is as sober as he ever remembers himself being. He can't drink, his lips are parched, and still..He feels as if he is drowning. He glances at you and sees the same uncertainty in your eyes.

" I love you.."

The words get out before he can ever register them and the whole assembly falls silent at his confession. Both you and your partner open your eyes wide in shock at his confession. You are about to say something when Thor starts laughing and shakes his head.

" I love you as a brother/sister and I wish you all the best that this world has to offer !"

The whole assembly seems to buy his last minute addition, including your partner that seems to relax beside you. But, you are no fool. You've spend enough time with the North god to know when he is lying. However, you don't know what you would have said, you were so eager to respond..but in truth ? You don't have a clue on what the good answer would have been. You stand up and face Thor that seems taken aback when you take him by the hand to the dancefloor. When you're sure that nobody would overhear your conversation, you whisper.

" What the heck were you thinking ?! Confessing like that today?! Out of any days?!"

He wants to deny, but he only lowers his head in shame.

" Forgive me, my friend..I shouldn't have said anything. It was selfish on my behalf. Forget I ever said anything. I wasn't thinking straight, too much wine.."

He quickly adds at the end, hoping that you would buy this excuse. For a moment, your eyes seem to scan his face for any clue that he was lying..But then, for a second, he sees a glimpse of disappointment that quickly disappears, replaced by a smile.

" I see.. No worries. Everyone makes mistakes."

You finally say before walking away. His heart tightens as he watches you leave, going back to him/her. That person that he shall never be..He forces himself to stay stoic in front of the many guests that wanted to talk to him, but he can't help to steal quick glances at your beauty, from afar. Thor is not one to cry, he is a hero, heroes don't cry. But, he can't help but shed a few tears as he knows that this is what he will ever be allowed to do now, steal glimpses at your infinite beauty that blinds him every single time. Funny, he always thought that Asgard was the most resplendent thing in the galaxy..guess he was wrong.

He wouldn't come. He can't. He is a mess since the day you told him. He would stay locked up in his room and only follow the ceremony on a TV screen.

" It could have been me..It should have been me !"

He screams before punching the screen and finally leaning down on his bed. He cover his eyes with his hands to hide his tears from the world. He dreamt of the day you would be dressed in the most beautiful silks, but for him.

" Oh my sweet..To think that those tears of joy are not for me to admire..Tell me, if I had had the courage to ask you ? Would you have said yes, little Midgardian ?"

He asks the broken TV screen wistfully and laughs humorlessly before looking at his shaking hands. Suddenly, he closes them into fists and screams at the top of his lungs, he screams his regret and the pain he feels at knowing that you would be happy without him. When he stops, he feels his sore throat and hiccups a laugh that turns into a maniacal laugh. Who is he hoping to fool ? You wouldn't have said yes..Who could ever say yes to such a monster ? He closes his eyes and makes a clone appear at the dinner. He thought you wouldn't notice him among the crowd, but you do and he freezes. Finally, you smile warmly at him and make your way to him through the crowd. He hadn't planned on talking to you, he just wanted to see you one last time. However, he still forces himself to smile courteously and takes your hand to kiss the back of it, like a prince in those fairytales that you used to read him when he was in his cell..

" You haven't changed, prince Loki..To think 5 years passed already. I thought you were dead, I mourned you.."

You say in an almost accusative tone, but he only answers with a small shrug and a smile.

" Timelines, my dear..A very complicated thing."

You nod absent-mindedly at his answer before wrapping your arms around him. He takes a shaky breath before slowly raising his hand to gently pet the top of your head.

" I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you.."

" I'm sorry too."

You reply with a sad smile that makes his heart sink. But, before he could ask what you were sorry about, you partner comes and asks for a dance. You smile apologetically at Loki before taking the hand of your husband/wife. Loki stays still, the question still lingering in his mind..Sorry ? Sorry for what ? He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. It doesn't matter. It is too late now..He is too late. His clone vanishes and Loki comes back to his room, sad and now, destined to be alone forever..

" You look so gorgeous/handsome. I can't believe you're getting married. He/She better treat you right, alright ?"

Scott would be happy for you and hide his sadness behind a smile. He would look at you with tears in his eyes, thinking of how you look truly amazing in that dress/smoking/whatever suits your boat. He would act like you best friend until the end, even walking you to the aisle if you ask him. He's so proud of you, but at the same time can't help but feel a pang in his chest, knowing that he is not the one waiting at the end of said aisle. He would also stay by your side afterwards during the dinner.

" Was it like that with Cassie's mother ?"

You ask him and he takes a shaky breath before answering you with a small sad smile.

" Oh no..It wasn't so fancy. You got yourself quite a deal with that one. He/She seems to be an extremely good catch."

You laugh a little before turning your head away to discreetly wipe your tears.

" I guess I should consider myself quite lucky then, huh ?"

You both laugh, but it sounds so fake and unnatural that you immediately stop. You then look around for your husband/wife as the music starts, but do not spot him among the crowd. However, Scott stands in front of you with his hand outstretched towards you.

" I may not be the best dancer, but would you do me the favor ?"

You look at his hand for several seconds before taking it with a genuine smile.

" Of course."

He smiles back and you start dancing around. However, when you finally stop, you realize that you've been staring too long at him and him at you. For a moment, you think he is about to kiss you, and you would have let him..But then, your husband/wife arrives with a smile and wraps their arm around your waist possessively. Scott understands the message and smiles one last time at you before taking a step back and letting go of your hand. You open your mouth to talk, but quickly close it..What could you possibly say ? But, he doesn't seem angry, he just sniffles and makes it sound like it is the emotion of finally you getting married.

" Oh wow..I guess I overstepped, huh ? Sorry..They're all yours."

Scott then walks away, his heart shattering even more with each step he takes and you sigh while your partner leads you away.

" I guess that congratulations are in order."

He says while flying down next to you and taking your hand. You smile up at him and he seems to not find his words. He had repeated them. But, just looking at your face, and other words fall out of his mouth.

" I'm sorry. I can't seem to be able to find any will in me to congratulate you."

You snort. Of course..

" You have an awful lot to learn about humans, Vision..But, I don't blame you. I wouldn't be able to find the will to congratulate myself either."

He frowns, confused, and tilts his head to the side, trying to decipher your words.

" But..It is your wedding day. The happiest day of your life."

He replies while slowly dancing with you in the air until your husband/wife asks him to get you down.

" Is it ?"

You reply before laughing humorlessly while staring right back at him with your eyes glassy, as if you're about to cry. However, you only smile one last time before following your husband/wife that leads you to another guest. Vision watches you leave and feels his brain working, still trying to make sense of your words. Suddenly, he seems to understand and closes his eyes, feeling something painful in his chest, even though he knows nothing is physically wrong with his body.

" I see.."

He finally says. He doesn't know for who he says it, maybe you, maybe himself ? For a being whose name is Vision, it took him a while to see the truth.

" You're the father of the bride/groom ?"

One of the guests ask him as he saw Dr Strange walk you to the aisle. He doesn't want to be rude, it's your day. He fakes a smile before nodding half-heartedly.

" Something like that.."

The guest is obviously not a close friend, or they would have known that your father had died/wasn't there. He glances at you and finds you staring at him. You quickly look away when you understand that you've been spotted. He wishes his feelings could be only translated as fatherly/brotherly/friend-related love..But, unfortunately, his heart had decided to play with his emotions. He had hoped for so long that his heart would listen to his brain that was finding every possible reason for him not to crash the party and take you away..He had had many occasions to lose his mind, falling head over heels for you isn't the one he thought would finally break him. It is eating him alive. He is so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn't see you, making your way to him. You gently tap him on the shoulder and he turns around to see you with a Cheshire-like grin.

" Shouldn't I have my first dance with my father ?"

He rolls his eyes dramatically at the last word before he retorts.

" You heard that, huh ? But you still don't hear me when I tell you to wake up for your training each morning.."

You laugh before taking his hand and leading him to the dancefloor. He can't help but smile when you start laughing at the sudden change of music..

"Beyonce. How convenient.."

You mimic his voice and he sighs loudly in fake exasperation.

" I should have known..This is why you wanted me to be your first dance. You had planned it all, you little devil."

You laugh mischievously before it slowly quiets down and you look at your shoes as you admit.

" That..but I also wanted you to be my first dance..You're the only family I have left, Strange. You, and the Avengers."

His heart beats a little too fast for his liking at your words and he admonishes his heart for being so sensitive..He takes your chin between his thumb and index to tip your face up, in order for you to look at him. When he sees that you are crying, he feels his heart stop and his mask crumbles. He allows himself to cry as well and you open your eyes wide in shock. Doctor Strange. The man that had gone through countless hardships such as a car accident that made him lose the practicality of his hands, wars, a face to face with a god, who had literally died, is now crying at your wedding. The irony..You hide your face in his cloak that seems to understand and hides the both of you for a moment. You feel safe in Strange's arms and want to stay hidden in his cloak forever, but you then hear the noises coming from outside, the voice of you partner among them. You force yourself to smile and wipe your tears. You then look up at Strange, but he doesn't need you to ask, he lets you go and you leave the safety of his arms to return to the ones of your beloved partner. Stephen can just stare at you until you both disappear among the crowd. He is still crying and his cloak tries to wipe them as well, but he shakes his head.

" Don't..It is the only thing I have left from her/him.."

Hawkeye doesn't know why he came..He knew it would break his heart to see you in someone else's arms..But, he still came. Thankfully, he has Natasha by his side. She stays next to him and he laughs bitterly as he tells her.

" My arrow didn't work it seems. The right speed, but not the right target.."

She smiles sadly at her best friend before putting her head on his shoulder compassionately.

" Don't sell yourself short. One of them hit right."

He looks up at you and laughs humorlessly at Natasha's way to comfort him.

" I don't know what is worse ? Her/Him marrying someone else or her/him not marrying at all ?"

Natasha laughs, but it is as fake as his.

" Who knows ? Maybe it wasn't meant to be ?"

Clint nods, even though he can't help but disagree with Natasha. From the first moment his eyes fell on you, he knew you were the one. Unfortunately, he had to compete with super soldiers, geniuses and gods..Who was he to ask you for a chance ? A guy with arrows..The answer is so obvious, the reality so brutal that it hurts. But what hurts the most ? It's that at the end, you had chosen another human, a human with no superpowers, no inhuman strength, not even arrows..Only human. To add to his shame, your smile that seems so genuine as you make your way to him.

" Barton, may I have this dance ?"

You ask and he looks at Natasha for help, but she only busies herself with her drink as she stands up to leave.

" Have fun you two.."

" You traitor.."

He mouthes at her while you have your face turned and Natasha barely surpresses a laugh. He then puts a smile back on when you face him. You smile back as he takes a the lead and starts waltzing around with you. You seem so happy, he feels as if tears are about to spill from his eyes. He bats them away just in time. He couldn't let you see him like this, not now, not ever..

" You know, Clint..There was a time where I thought it would be you.."

He opens his eyes wide in shock at your admission as he looks down at you, unsure if he had heard you correctly. But, you nod in confirmation.

" You heard me..I really thought you would be the one wearing a tuxedo and sweep me off my feet. But, it seems Robin Hood only exists in novels and I am no damsel in distress.."

He doesn't know what to say, so he only lightly squeezes your hand to urge you to continue. He knows it won't change anything, but he wants to know nonetheless. However, you only smile sadly before looking up at him with eyes prickled with tears and stand on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

" Girls/Guys can dream, right ?"

You then walk away and leave him dumbstruck as he processes what you had just admitted. Not only would you have been satisfied with any human beings, you would have been satisfied with him. The knowledge hurts more than anything and he can only sit down on a nearby couch, tears rolling down his cheeks now. One single thought running on loop through his brain : he could have been enough. He could have been enough..

Bonus : Your reaction

You wait a little bit before walking towards a room where you could finally be alone. You stay with a smile plastered on your face on the way there, keeping the facade for the sake of convenience until you are in said room. Your smile slowly turns downwards and you lean against the door, letting a big sigh out of your mouth as you look at the ring on your finger. Here. It was done. But then, why does it feel so painful ? You slide down and bury your face in your arms to sob as quietly as possible. He had danced with you, he had nearly confessed to you..but didn't. And the worse part is ? If he had asked you to follow him, even then, you would have followed him without any hesitation. You had once thought that he would be the one by your side forever..Guess you were wrong ? You sniffle before opening the locket hanging from your neck where a small picture of him is hidden. You smile tenderly at the picture before taking the locket off and pondering what to do with it now ? You have to forget. He is only a dream, a beautiful dream..but a dream nonetheless. Heroes like him belong to the world, not you. You take a shaky sigh before wiping your tears away and smiling again. You had married someone that loved you and that you loved, you should be happy..But then, why does your heart seem so eager to prove you wrong, beating wildly in your chest out of protest ? You close your eyes and let one single tear roll down your cheek one last time before letting the locket fall from your hand on the floor as you stand up. You then put on your fake smile again and open the door to step out.

I had to listen to so many sad songs to do this. Hope it was worth it.

[imagine-darksiders]

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper. 

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...? 

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window. 

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud. 

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom. 

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then... 

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen. 

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation. 

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state. 

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches. 

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister?  Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...” 

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you. 

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?” 

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.” 

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...” 

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him. 

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so.. 

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.” 

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.” 

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his. 

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close. 

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs. 

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack. 

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last. 

This one is no different. 

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

[x3kristax3]

After Duskwood

⚠️warning: drinking and slight smut

CHAPTER 17

We walk down and the line has already started… we hear the band inside and I start dancing already. Jake pulls me close as he sees guys staring at me. 

“Oh someone is jealous” says Alex.

“Yes,” he says.

I pull him close and kiss him deep “they can look all they want but you're the one I’m leaving with alright” I say with a smile.

We finally get inside and head to the bar. Jake is holding my hips as he looks around as everyone is staring.

Alex comes up next to us “if they are gonna stare you should give them something to look at” he says as I turn my back to the bar and wrap my arms around Jake's neck and he just stands there “that’s a dare by the way” he says.

I kiss Jake deep and passionate not pulling away until our drinks come up that Alex ordered for us “that next drink is on you” I say to alex

“I knew you would do it, you've always been that way,” he says with a smile.

We head to the to a table that's big enough for all of us as Maggie and I dance in front of the table together

“Oh by the way” Alex says to Jake “if you get the two of them drunk enough they will make out.”

“NOT HAPPENING ALEX!” I yell in his direction. I reach my hand out for Jake and he grabs it pulling me towards him. “You were supposed to come to me,” I say to him with a pout.

“Later we will dance” he says as I sit on his lap and he squeezes my thigh. 

“Seriously you two are way too cute together” says Sandra.

“I know I told them that earlier” says Maggie as she plops down on the other side of the table. “You should see the picture I have of them from before dinner,” as she pulls out her phone and shows Sandra.

I’m blushing as Jake whispers in my ear “are they always like this?”

“Yeah, welcome to my crazy friends,” I say leaning into him.

We have a fun night dancing and drinking and just relaxing for Jake and I for the first time in a long time.

I wake up to a pounding headache and I don’t see Jake in bed but there is a note with a cup of water and some meds for that hangover this morning - love Jake I smile and take the meds. I throw on some shorts as I’m just wearing a t-shirt and head out to the kitchen. I see Jake and my mom in the kitchen making breakfast.

“How are you up already?” I say looking at Jake. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

“I did sleep just a couple hours” he says as he grabs me coffee as I sit at the bar. “I wanted to let you sleep because of how much you drank last night.”

“MC you didn’t get drunk did you?” mom says.

“Not that I remember” I say, grabbing my phone and looking through my photos and seeing some fun pictures. One brings a smile to my face as it's Jake and I at the table and he is kissing me. I make that background on my phone.

“What's that smile for?” he asks.

“Oh just a picture from last I somehow got of us” I say.

“Oh yeah there is probably a good amount” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, which surprises me. But what's for breakfast? I need something for this hangover,” I say while drinking the coffee.

"Eggs, bacon, and toast. I had a feeling you guys were gonna go to that new bar last night so I made sure we had this for breakfast” mom says.

Everyone else starts waking up coming out of the living room ‘did you all sleep here last night?” I ask.

“You don't remember?” says Maggie.

‘Uh no… I guess I drank more than I thought” I say trying to remember everything.

“We came back and put a movie on,” says Jake.

“Yeah you guys got into alcohol here ontop of whatever you drank at the bar” says Dad coming out with an empty bottle of irish mist .

“I'll get you another bottle dad” I say blushing.

“I think that was worse than drinking with Dan,” says Jake.

“Oh man I haven’t drank that much in a while” I say as I put my head down on the table and Jake comes up and rubs my back.

“Hey it was totally fun and innocent though,'' says Maggie.

“Nothing crazy?” I say.

“Nope for once when you drink that much” says Alex. “Maybe Jake calmed you down,” he says.

“Jake was it pretty mellow?” I ask.

“Yeah I took a ton of videos and pictures last night you can look through” he says hanging me his phone. I unlock and look through it looking through all the photos and videos he took. One of the videos looks like it's about to get crazy but then it cuts off.

“Ugh what happened?” I ask, looking at Jake.

“Jake diffused you” says Alex.

“What?” I am surprised as no one has ever been able to.

“I told you he seems to have calmed you down,'' says Alex. As he grabs some of the bacon off my plate and I smack his hand “ouch is that what I get for covering your drinks last night?”

“Yes, my bacon you know how I am when I’m hung over” I say as Jake grabs a piece off the plate that has a bunch. “See he even knows better and he’s never seen me like this” I say with a glare at Alex.

“I know how I am” says Jake with a smile as he grabs a fork full of eggs and puts it towards my mouth “but you need to eat coffee alone won’t cure it” he says as I open my mouth and he puts it in.

Everyone is looking at us “sorry not sorry that he cares about me," I say with a smirk.

Ashley comes walking in from waking up “seriouisly did you all leave? You guys came home at like 1:30 am” she says as she grabs my coffee cup and I take it back.

“Nope not today you're not getting my coffee” I say.

“Mommmm” she says crossing her arms.

“Nope your sister is hung over I’m not getting in the middle of it” she says as she walks away leaving us alone “paul come on” she says to our dad and he follows her.

I sit there and eat my breakfast and drink my coffee as does everyone “okay seriously how much did I drink last night?” I ask.

“Well 5 drinks at the bar and then you had jack and the irish mist while we watched a movie” says Jake.

“Seriously I don’t remember the movie at all!” I say. “Let alone getting back into my bed.”

“You passed out on the floor and Jake carried you’ says Maggie.

I look at Jake “oh great you just started them again” says Alex as I throw a napkin at him still looking at Jake “get a room you two.”

As Alex says that Jake picks me up and carries me out of the kitchen “Jake put me down” I say as I laugh, not fighting him at all.

“Nope, we're getting a room” he says as he takes me to my room and locks the door.

“You know they can hear us,” I say.

“Not if I do this,'' he says as he kisses me deep and pulls off my shorts I’m wearing and runs his fingers along my thigh.

I pull away from the kiss “lets get cleaned up and get a hotel room. I need you and not to be quite” I say as I kiss him deep again.

As I say that there is a knock on my door “I was joking” yells Alex.

Jake hisses into my ear “nope two days of you teasing me and that dress last night I can’t make it out of this room now” he says as he puts his hand over my mouth and continues using his fingers as he feels me moan into his hand and he doesn’t stop.

Jake hears the lock being picked and moves his hand from my mouth as he whispers into my ear “tell them to go home.”

“Guys go away” I say as I look into Jake's eyes wanting him to do that again as I feel his fingers slide in me I lean up and kiss him deep to keep myself quiet and he moans into my mouth knowing exactly what I want as well. All of sudden the door opens and its Alex and Maggie “fuck” I say covering up.

‘Wow you guys don’t ease into it,” says Alex as he turns around.

“Guys please just go” I say as Jake doesn't stop with his fingers under the blanket.

“I was joking about getting a room,” he says.

“Alex go!” I yell as Maggie walks out of the room realizing Jake is still continuing under the blanket. He closes the door “Jake go lock it and move the chair in front of it please” I say with a whimper.

“That means my hand has to stop” he says with that devilish smile of his.

“Please so no one else can walk in” I say, begging him.

He gets out of bed and does it he climbs back into bed and pulls me close to him as he kisses my neck and puts his fingers back to what they were doing and he puts his other hand over my mouth as I moan into his hand and I run my thigh along his bulge as I try and reach down and undo his pants he moves his hand from between my legs and stops “no” he says.

"You tell me no again I’m red lighting us until we get a hotel room” I say as I continue to undo his pants and he moves my hand away.

“Then book that hotel room” he says moving my hand away and stops his fingers.

I whimper at him and he knows exactly what he is doing to me. I pull out my phone and I find the closest room to us and book it for check in today. “Ut's booked… Please don’t stop” I say, pushing myself against him.

“You red lighted me” he says with a smile as I see the look in his eyes.

“Ugh I just want you” I say as I run my hands through his hair as I see that look in his eyes. I kiss him deep like I did last night at the bar and he grabs my hips pulling me close.His fingers go back to what they were doing as we continue to kiss and I moan into his mouth as he smiles he pulls away again. “Damn it jake” I say as he gets out of bed.

"Nope you have to wait just like me till the hotel room," he says as he goes and grabs a sun dress out of my closet and tosses it to me in bed. 

I go and shower but lock the door so he can’t join me. I come out and he’s sitting on my bed as all I'm wearing is a bra and undies and I sit on his lap. His hands squeeze my hips pulling me into him “your imagining what you want huh?” I say as I grind on his lap.

“Yes….. once alone in that hotel room there is not stopping me” he says as my phone goes off and it's the agent from the FBI

‘Hello… Yes, we’re still safe….. Oh good you caught them again!” U say as Jake kisses my neck and I bite my lip. “You need us back in duskwood to testify?” I say looking at Jake ``okay I’ll talk to him. We are halfway around the world so it might take a couple days” I say trying to stop him. I finally hang up the phone.

“Ugh do they really need us back?” he says.

"They need us to testify…. Especially you” I say running my hands through his hair.

‘Will I face them in person?”

“No it will be a recording and our identity will be kept a secret” I say

“Mmm well we can get a flight another day today we have plans’ he says growling into my ear.

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait incase they escape again’ i say

‘Nope not putting this off any longer” he says as he undoes his pants right with me on top of him and slides in. I kiss him deep to moan into his mouth and pulls away before I'mdone as my head goes to his shoulder “good baby girl” he say as he says that my body shivers as he doesnt stop.

Once we finish I lean into his arms as I pull off but still on his lap. “Jesus Jake, you know that drives me crazy” I say.

“I know but I couldn’t wait for the hotel” he says with a smile as he tosses me on the bed and gets his jeans on. I put on the dress he grabbed me.

“You better bring some of theses clothes to Duskwood” he says with a smile.

“Oh things you want me to wear but can’t control yourself around my family?” I say with a smile at him.

“Yeah that dress is one of them” he says as he kisses me. I’m standing in front of the mirror and I hold his arms around my waist.

“You know we are a cute couple” I say as I see us in the mirror and I see how he’s looking at me gives me chills.

“I know I realized it last night, that's why I couldn't help myself with pictures and videos of us” he says.

“Thank you for that last night. You fit right in with them” I say.

“No, I clung to you all night. They just made me feel like one of them. They never judged me or acted like I’m a bad guy or thought you could do better” he says.

“Unlike when we’re with everyone from Duskwood” I say.

“Yeah I see how Dan looks at you. I know he's jealous of what we have” he says.

“Let people be jealous Jake…. You're exactly what I want” I say as I grab an overnight bag and throw in clothes for tomorrow to come home.

He follows me into the closet as he pulls me back against him as he growls into my ear “i can’t get enough of you”

“We should probably go tell my family we are spending tonight alone. Then will be heading back to duskwood" as I see Jake staring at me "what?"

He grabs my hand and pulls me against him in front of the mirror.  "How did I get so lucky with you MC?" he asks, staring into my eyes.

I blush and lean into him "because you decided to let me in" I say as I pull away and heads to the balcony where my parents are with their coffee still and Jake follows.

"What is it hunny?" Says my dad.

"Actually there's two things" I say as I lean against the railing. "Jake and I are gonna get a hotel and spend tonight alone. Also we're gonna have to head back to duskwood" I say.

"Will you two be coming back?" Asks my mom.

"Of course this is always my home but there is something we need to do" I say.

"Does it have to do with Jake's past?" She asks.

"Yes and also mine with the FBI" I say, looking down at the ground.  I'm expecting the questions to arise now.

"MC what are you talking about?" Asks my dad.

I look at Jake "I think you can tell them" he says, wrapping his hand in mine.

I look at my parents and sigh. "For four years Jake was wanted by the FBI. The reason I got fired was because they wanted me to track him and I refused.  No, I didnt know him then. However there were things in his file that didn't seem right to me."

"We've been harboring a fugitive!?" Yells my dad.

"No dad! Before we even bought the plane tickets Jake and I worked with them to clear his name so he's a free man. However he has to testify against someone which is why we have to go back" I say.

"You fell in love with him while he was a wanted man though" says my dad.

I look down at my feet "yes but honestly I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I had to redo it" I say holding Jake's arm.

"Honey calm down please, for the first time ever in her dating history she hasn't said she wants to marry him already and I see the love in their eyes when they look at eachother. Yesterday when Jake was helping me bake the cupcakes he was asking me questions about her which no other guy has ever done. You need to give him a chance like the rest of us" my mom says.

"But that's my little girl" he says looking at me and Jake. 

"I'll always be your little girl daddy. Just like the song we dance to at my wedding will never change because it's our song" I say going and giving him a hug and butterfly kisses. I pull away "but you have to trust me. I know that's hard after everything these past four years and the guys I've bought home since I started dating. This with Jake, the way he looks at me is the same way I see you look at mom every day since I can remember. The love you guys share has been all I've been searching for and I honestly believe I found it. I do want to marry Jake one day daddy but if this love can withstand these trials me and him are facing I know that marriage isn't something to rush into" I say.

"Oh hunny I had no idea you felt that way" he says.

"Because we hadn't had a chance to talk like this since I came back home. All I want is your approval of Jake before we leave again" I say. 

"You have it because you and your mom are right. Since you came home when he's around you MC your glowing from the inside out and I think that's what scares me because I know your in love not lust with him."

Jake looks at him "sir, I know this seems like a weird time but when MC and I are ready no matter where we are in this world do i have permission to ask for her hand in marriage?" 

"As long as you wake up every day and promise to keep her safe and love her through everything" my dad says.

"I do promise that sir" says Jake.

"Then yes you have my blessing" I let go of Jake again and wrap my arms around my dad. 

"That doesn't mean he can propose anytime soon you two aren't ready" he says.

"I know I'm just so happy to finally have your blessing with a guy"Jake is fidgeting in his pocket "I'm gonna finish getting my stuff ready" I say as I bolt inside all giddy.

Jake stays out there "thank you sir" he says "getting your blessing to be with her was the most important thing to me."

"You have a ring don't you" asks my mom.

"Yes" he pulls it out of his pocket. "It was my moms" he says, showing it to them.

"Wow it's gorgeous" says my mom. "I had always planned for another ring but I can tell how much that one means to you."

"Yeah it was a ring my mom bought herself because my father was never in the picture" says Jake.

"That explains why you were so nervous around me" says my dad.

"That and the moment she saw you I realized how much you mean to her" says Jake putting the ring back in his pocket.

I come running back still all giddy "you ready Jake?" I ask.

"Yeah MC let me get my bag" Jake says.

My dad grabs his arm as he goes to walk inside "just dont hurt my little girl" he says.

"I won't. I almost got arrested for going after her ex when he followed her out to Duskwood but he didn't press charges. I'd go to great lengths to keep her safe" Jake says.

I'm standing just inside the doorway waiting for Jake as I get butterflies in my stomach looking at him.

He grabs my hand as I jump because I was in a daze "Are we walking or taking the car?" He asks.

"Car they have parking lot" I say handing him my keys as I squeeze his hand and bite my lip looking at him. 

[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Midnight Quidditch Games | Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader (written with a female reader in mind, though the gender is not stated)

Wordcount: 3800 words

Warnings: none, just fluff and friends-to-lovers

Summary: Fred and George come up with the idea of hosting illegal Quidditch Games for all four houses every Friday night. Harry convinces Reader to play with him and they end up on the same broom.

a/n: No Voldemort Au, set in Harry's fifth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (Based on a headcanon by @/ murphcooper on tumblr)

Friday was my favourite day of the week, and there were two reasons for that: One, it was the start of the weekend, and two, we played Quidditch.

Up until fifth year, the most I had to do with the popular wizarding sport was cheering at the official school games for the Gryffindor team and attending the Quidditch World Cup in 1994. Then Fred and George came up with a very illegal, yet very exciting and fun idea, which was to host unofficial Quidditch games in the middle of the night that any student could attend. Whether it were First Years who could barely fly, or simple people that never made it onto their house's team, anyone was welcome.

The twins had planned it the first two months of their sixth year together with Quidditch fans from the other houses and had created lists for every common room, which wouldn't be readable by the teachers or Filch.

“It's illegal! What if something happens? What if someone gets hurt, how do you want to explain that to Dumbledore, or worse, to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione argued as soon as Fred and George had prompted their idea to us one Sunday evening.

“I'm disappointed. Do you really think we would work that sloppy?”, Fred asked.

“The house elves are in,” George explained. “Which means free food and free healthcare, all in one!”

“Awesome,” Ron said, and he should be proven right.

The only rules to attend were the duty to remain silent and to come in your pyjamas, just for the sake of it. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would be playing against Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, Lee Jordan would be commenting as always and because Madam Hooch wasn't available, Hermione would be our judge. This was decided unanimously.

The first two games had occurred at the end of November, and they had been a complete mess. We had to raise the number of players on each team so everyone who wanted to play fit in, which led to three Keepers, six Chasers, four Beaters and two Seekers for each house. Furthermore, there had been a dozen of first years who couldn't fly yet and who had to be taught by voluntaries.

Those first two Friday nights I had spent with Lee, Hermione, Luna and Dobby on the commentary stand, cheering and eating chocolate biscuits. Once in a while, I had thrown a biscuit in the air for Harry to catch.

Because of the bone-chilling cold and pitch-black darkness brought by the Scottish winter, Fred and George had invented glass bulbs which carried bright orange, warm fire and hovered over the Quidditch pitch.

With the first Friday of December approaching, the excitement grew bigger and it was basically the only topic during every meal. Now that the rules and positions had set and the First Years could fly, we were awaiting the first serious game – as serious as playing Quidditch in pyjamas with Hermione as a judge could be.

“You have to play, too,” Harry said to me during lunch on Friday. My friends had tried all week to persuade me to play instead of only keeping Hermione company, while I had constantly declined.

“Yes, come on,” Ron agreed. “We know you can fly, you played with us this summer.”

“No, no way.” I shook my head and pulled the pumpkin juice jug closer.

“Why not?”, Harry asked, covering my glass with his hand. I raised my eyebrows, but he only grinned, which made my stomach tingle. But I glossed over the unwanted feeling and shoved his hand away.

“Because all positions are filled. And besides that, I would be a terrible Chaser,” I answered. “Or a terrible anything, really.”

“You could play as a Seeker,” Hermione suggested and poured herself a drink. “You're good at noticing details.”

“But Harry and that boy from third year are playing as Gryffindor Seeker,” I reminded her, cutting my toast in half.

“You could fly with Harry,” She said plainly. I stared at her with wide eyes. I should had known the moment I had told Hermione about my not-so-tiny crush on Harry that it had been a bad idea. Now she did what I should had expected: Trying to set me up with him.

“No, I – no.”

“But I wouldn’t mind,” Harry said. “And if you don't like it, I can drop you off at the stands again. Come on Y/N, say yes.” He nudged my shoulder, looking at me with sweetest puppy eyes. I couldn't say no to him, he knew that. I sighed.

“Fine.”

A content smile lit up on his face. “Brilliant.”

Around half past nine, we made our way out of the castle and down to the Quidditch pitch. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, as well as a dozen other Gryffindor students had their brooms shouldered, following me and Hermione through the dimly lit corridors.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” I whispered, tapping the Marauders Map, which soon revealed Hogwarts’ grounds, ink lines flowing over the parchment. Filch was strolling around in his office, and so was Snape. McGonagall’s ink dot hovered in the East tower of the Fourth Floor. “Everything’s clear, but keep quiet,” I informed the others.

Hermione linked her arms with me.

“How are you?”, She asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Shut up. What was that at lunch?”

“Oh, come on, I just said what you were thinking. Everybody knows you have a thing for each other,” She said, and I quickly turned to make sure Harry was still talking to Dean and Ginny. Hermione chuckled. “I made a bet with Ginny that you will kiss after catching the Snitch together,” She added.

I swirled back around. “You what?”

“But Ginny thinks you'll snog in a broom closet afterwards.”

Before I could reply anything, Harry had caught up with us.

“What are you two whispering about?”, He asked, leaning closer so I could smell his deodorant.

“Nothing,” I said and was glad that the darkness hid my tinted cheeks. Hermione let herself fall back, leaving Harry and me alone at the front of the group.

“You're a terrible liar,” He said.

“Says you. Remember last year when we had detention with Snape –”

Harry wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, pulling me unintentionally closer, and placed his hand over my mouth to stop me from talking any further.

“You promised you'd take that to the grave.”

I grinned and pulled his hand away, though his arm stayed around me.

We made it out of the castle without any inconveniences, thanks to Peeves, who – on orders from the twins – created some chaos in the trophy room and distracted McGonagall.

We were the first to reach the pitch, and Harry unlocked the door under the stands with the key on the necklace around his neck, which led to the changing rooms and the spare brooms. Fred and George had stored the fire bulbs under a loose floorboard and were now freeing them so they could fly over the pitch. Hermione directed her wand towards the sky, sending out a Muffliato Charm, then winked at me and climbed up to the commentary stand with Lee.

In the meantime, the other houses arrived; the Hufflepuffs were followed by a tiny body of house elves carrying fast food on tablets over their heads. They spread over the stands, consorting with the students watching the game and providing them with hot meals and drinks.

“Welcome back everyone!”, Lee's voice echoed over the pitch and the crowd cheered. “And also welcome to everyone new here who wants to play or just likes to break the rules.”

“Hello from me too. We have some new players I want to introduce,” Hermione continued. “Marina Florence playing Keeper for Slytherpuff, Arthur Mitchell deputizing for Gryffinclaw’s Chaser Demelza Robbins, who is currently stationed in the hospital wing, and Y/N playing Seeker for Gryffinclaw together with Harry Potter.”

“That's ridiculous! Since when are we playing in pairs?!”, Draco yelled out of the crowd of Slytherin players.

“Since I'm making the rules, you daft idiot!”, Hermione called back, and laughing echoed over the field. Ron's language was clearly leaving a mark on her. “Now get on your brooms, everyone!”

“Make sure you don't slip off your broom in those silk pyjamas, Malfoy, ” Fred snickered loudly, and Draco held up his middle finger.

Slowly, the huge crowd of players on the pitch flew up into the air, positioning themselves on the right spots. I turned to Harry, who climbed on his broom. That was the part I had avoided to think about all afternoon: How would we fly on that thing together?

My heart drummed so loudly against my ribcage it was a miracle he couldn't hear it. We were friends, I reminded myself. And I would not ruin this friendship for the sake of some stupid feelings.

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry said, stretching out his hand. I grabbed it, and he helped me to climb onto his Firebolt, so that I was sitting in front of him. His fingers gripped around the broom stick, not very far from where I had placed my hands.

“You alright?”, He asked and I nodded.

“Brilliant,” I said, and he chuckled. He then wrapped his left arm around my waist before he kicked us off the ground and the Firebolt shot through the cold night air. My back got pressed against his chest, his knees squeezing my thighs, and out of shock, I held onto his arm around me.

I hadn't flown since last summer, and even then it had only been on Ron's old broomstick a few feet above the earth. This here was the complete opposite: Harry's Firebolt was a hundred times faster, and it barely took us three seconds to be the ones flying the highest over the stadium.

“I got you, everything's fine,” Harry said somewhere close to my ear as he had noticed my hand clenched around his arm, and a warm shiver ran down my spin. I looked down on the Quidditch pitch.

“It never looks that high when I’m down there,” I said.

“Are you afraid of heights?”, He asked, but I shook my head.

“No.” Not with you. I could feel his heart beating against my back and absently stroked over his hand on my waist, until Hermione's voice ripped me out of my thoughts.

“Okay, I want a fair game and no injuries, is that clear? And show some respect to the youngest players! Now ready, steady, GO!” With a wave of her wand, the trunk with the Quidditch balls snapped open and the Quaffle flew high into the air, followed by two Bludgers. For a short moment, I saw the Golden Snitch, then it rushed off into the darkness.

“So, what do we do now? Any secret strategies?”, I asked.

“No,” Harry answered, placing his chin on my shoulder. “We just wait and watch.”

A tingling warmth spread through my body at the subtle touch. Gently, Harry steered the broom around the pitch, while the others beneath us played.

“Katie wins the Quaffle – passes to Montgomery – Rick close to score, come on – YES, Gryffinclaw scores 10 points!”, Lee bellowed and loud applause erupted. “And Slytherpuff in possession – Blaise with the Quaffle – Josephine Gordon from Hufflepuff takes over, excellent Chaser that girl, and rather attractive – OW, I'm just stating facts!”

Hermione had smacked Lee on the back of his head.

“Anyways, Blaise in possession once again – now First Year Conan Ivory – Smith overtakes – and he scores. Ron, look at the Quaffle, not at Hermione – OW! – But Gryffinclaw still leads – Ginny overtakes – fights off some Slytherins – hey, careful Harry, Bludger coming your way –”

Harry quickly leaned over me and the Firebolt dropped a few meters, dodging the Bludger rushing over our heads. George (or Fred?) darted after the ball, calling a quick “Watch it, lovebirds!” at us, and hit the Bludger towards a Slytherin Chaser.

The other twin was close behind, shouting “Less snogging, more seeking!”

“Shut it!”, I yelled. For Merlin's sake, did everyone knew about my crush? Was it really that obvious for everyone except Harry? Not that I wanted him to find out – he would be embarrassed, he didn't think of us as anything other than friends.

Harry's arm slipped from my waist and he cleared his throat, but a broomstick did not provide much space, wherefore his chest was still pressed against my back and I could feel his rather fast heartbeat.

“Do you, uhm... want me to drop you off?”, He asked.

“Oh. Uh, no,” I said, trying to turn so I could face him, “I like it, but if you want to –”

“No! No, I just thought...” Harry’s eyes danced over my face like they had never before and we were quite close.

“ – Applebee has the Quaffle - and that's a score! Sixty to sixty!”, Lee called, and Hermione blew her silver whistle. I ripped my eyes off of Harry and looked down to the commentary stand. “Now, we’re gonna have a short break, because Dobby thinks you're gonna starve otherwise. All the first and second years are asked to go back to their dorms, because it's almost midnight – don't complain to me –”

Harry carefully steered his Firebolt back to the ground where he landed near Ron and Ginny. I climbed off and was glad to be spared an awkward conversation, because Ginny grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side of the pitch. The sudden loss of Harry's warm chest made me shiver.

“Now, have you ever thought about making out in a broom closet?”, She asked, a mischievous grin on her reddened face. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Hermione told me about the bet, so don't even try! No one's gonna make out in a broom closet,” I said.

“Except you and Harry,” Ginny replied. I opened my mouth to talk back, but was interrupted.

“What’s going on with you and Harry?” Cho had caught up to us, snatching a plate with fish and chips from a tablet an house elf carried through the crowd. “I have watched you, it's adorable, honestly.”

“First off, there's nothing to be adorable,” I said and stole a fry from her plate, “and second, you are supposed to watch the Snitch, not us.”

“So is Harry, but he only has eyes for you.” Cho smiled and tapped my nose with her finger. Ginny giggled and ate a piece of fried fish. In the same moment, Hermione breathlessly jogged up to us.

“What – were – you – waiting – for?”, She panted. I furrowed my brows.

“Huh?” Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“You were this close to kiss him, why didn't you do anything?”

“Is my love life this much more interesting the Quidditch game?!”

All three girls answered “Yes” in union.

“But he doesn't feel the same way for me!”, I argued. “We are friends –”

Ginny grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. “Do friends look at each other that way? I don’t think so.”

Harry stood a few feet away with Ron, Seamus and Dean, though he seemed not to listen to their conversations and instead stared over at us. At me. When he realised he had been caught, he waved shyly and almost spilled his pumpkin juice. I waved back at him before turning to the girls again, all of whom were looking temporising at me.

“Oh, I – I don't know. Even if you're right, I can't just kiss him out of nowhere on his broom.”

“No, you gotta snog him in a broom closet so I get my Galleon,” Ginny said smugly, and Hermione nudged her with her elbow and looked at her watch, before blowing her whistle again.

“Everyone back on their positions, break's over!” Then Hermione shot me a serious look. “Get the boy, we're all done of you pining over one another. Ron can get the other boys to crash somewhere else, if you need the dorm.”

“Hermione!”, I gasped, but she was already rushing back to the commentary stand.

“Good luck,” Cho said, and Ginny winked. I glared at them before making my way over to where the Gryffindor boys stood. I saw how Ron said something to Harry, patted his shoulder and flew off.

Harry turned to me, smiling. His hair was even messier than usual due to the wind, and he had put on a black hoodie over his pyjamas. He looked cute and hot at the same time, and I couldn't quite believe that he was supposed to like me back.

“Do you want to – or?”, He asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled and he got on his Firebolt, making space in front of him for me.

“Good. I mean –” He cleared his throat as I climbed on his broom. The next second, we were high up in the air, his chest against my back again.

“Okay, guys, game's on again! Go!”, Hermione shouted and waved her wand at the Quaffle, which flew upwards and was caught by Ginny instantly.

“And we're back – Katie passes the Quaffle to Valentina – She flawlessly dodges a Bludger – Back to Peters, almost made it onto the Ravenclaw team – and he scores! SEVENTY TO SIXTY.”

I took a deep breath and leaned back against Harry, watching the game unfold. He propped his chin back onto my right shoulder, like an unspoken routine.

“I think I'm gonna play again next Friday,” I said out of the blue.

“Really?”, He asked, sounding surprised. I smiled. The crowd underneath us cheered.

“Yes. If you save me a place on your broomstick.” I turned to look at him, and he smiled brightly at me. We were as close as earlier, maybe even closer. I held my breath, until I noticed something small and golden buzzing through the air behind Harry, illuminated by one of the fire bulbs.

“There!” I pointed at the Golden Snitch, and Harry's head spun around to assure himself.

“Do you trust me?”, He asked.

“Of course,” I replied. Instantly, his hand was back around my waist and he yanked the Firebolt around.

“ – Seamus throws the Quaffle to Dean – Dean passes Nott – and he scores! NINTHY TO EIGHTY FOR GRYFFINCLAW! And Potter seems to have spotted the Snitch, Draco, Cedric and Cho close behind – Come on, show them what that Firebolt can do!”, Lee's voice roared from somewhere deep down, but my eyes were glued onto the Snitch: It whirred through the ice cold December air and up to the left ring of the Slytherpuff team.

Malfoy had almost caught up to us; even though the Firebolt was the fastest broomstick on the market, it was obviously slower when carrying two people instead of one.

The Snitch twirled around the pole, then dropped down and headed for the floor. Harry followed, and now we where almost vertically flying downwards. Because of the sudden shift of direction, I swore loudly and clenched my hands tighter around the broom.

“I won't let you fall, I promise,” Harry called over air rushing past us.

“I know, but a warning would have been nice!”, I yelled back, and he chuckled.

The weight of two people on one broomstick also meant that we got dragged downwards way faster, which meant we were outdistancing Malfoy. The Golden Snitch took a sharp right turn and now buzzed two meters above the ground to the other side of the pitch.

“You have to catch it!”, Harry yelled.

“WHAT? No, I can't –”

“Yes, you can! I have to steer!” And hold you. But he did not say that. I swore under my breath and carefully loosened one hand from the broomstick, stretching it forward. The Snitch was inches away from my fingertips and I pushed myself up, Harry's grip around my mid tightening. The silver wings touched my fingers, I stretched my arm further and in the same moment my hands clasped around the tiny, golden ball, we fell forward.

“ – And that doesn't look – Oh, Potter and Y/L/N are on the ground. I can't really see, if someone caught the Snitch –”

As one tangled mess, we landed on the frozen lawn, rolling over one another and stopping with Harry half on top of me. My whole body ached and I would definitely get bruises from the fall, but that was something I could worry about later. I caught the Snitch!

“Shit, sorry, fuck. Y/N, are you alright?” Harry's face hovered over me, a bloody scratch on his cheek. I grinned happily and held up the golden ball.

“Yeah, more than alright.”

“Y/N caught the Snitch! TWOHUNDRED AND FORTY TO EIGHTY! Gryffinclaw wins!”, Lee bellowed and the crowd cheered and applauded loudly. Harry held out one hand to help me up, and I took it.

“I'm sorry, I know I promised, but I couldn't hold you any longer and –”

“Shut up.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. My hands found their way into his raven hair, and he hugged my waist, pulling me so tightly his fingers almost touched his own rips with the opposite hand. I kissed him, and he was kissing me back; it felt like someone had lit a firework in my heart, and for one marvellous moment, we were the only two people in the whole wide world.

Then the other players landed on the field, and we broke apart, catching our breaths. We were both grinning, and I felt drunk from the cold night and catching the Snitch and kissing Harry.

The raven haired boy bent down to kiss me once more, this time softer, and he intertwined our fingers before leading us over to our friends, where Ginny flicked a Galleon into Hermione's open hand.

“Took you long enough,” Ron said, who had both his and Harry's broomstick shouldered.

“Well, they got around in the end,” Cho added, leaning against Cedric, his chin propped on her head. “Sleepover at the Ravenclaw dorm?”, She added, and we all nodded in agreement.

While Fred, George and Lee collected the fire bulbs and Quidditch balls, and the house elves cleaned up the dirt with a snap of their fingers, we made our way back to the Hogwarts castle:

Ron alongside Hermione, followed by Seamus and Dean arm-in-arm, Cho with Cedric, one arm around her waist, Ginny carrying a tired Luna on her back, and lastly, Harry and me, holding hands.

“You know, I'm glad I agreed to play with you,” I said. Harry smiled.

“Yeah, me too.” He pressed a kiss on my cheek. In spite of the shivering cold, I had never felt more warm and comfortable than in this moment.

[navalcriminalimagines]

Birthday girl

I can't believe I did that, but here we are. This fits the "Multiple partners/gangbang" square from the Summer Bingo. With our favorite boys; Mike, Rafael, Sonny & Mike.

Words count: 3,9k

Warnings: Gangbang, p in v, creampie, spanking (slightly)

Sorry if there's any typos...

@thatesqcrush

You had a lot of hopes for your 30th birthday. Not just for the celebration itself but also in general. You thought that by now, you would be in a serious relationship, maybe with a kid or two, or at least planning on having one. You had many things you wanted to do before you were 30, but now that you think about it, you didn’t do much of those things. You’re actually far from it.

It just hurts to see people around you having their life together. Your best friend is married to a lovely man, she has a two year old boy and is pregnant with a second and she owns her business. Your sister - older than you - is traveling all around the world with her husband and their dog. And everytime you meet with your mother, it’s like she has to put pressure where it hurts. Every single time.

The only thing you can’t complain about is your job, and the people you work with. Being a detective at SVU is hard, it’s challenging, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. And you have the most amazing squad with you. Also, the most handsome men you ever met. Seriously. Mike, Sonny, Rafael, Nick. How could you not like your job when you see those faces 24/7?

You had expectations for your celebration party. You invited the squad to a beach house that you rented. They became your family, they are the ones you want to celebrate with. But little by little, it was falling apart. First, Amanda had to cancel since her sister is in town, and everyone knows Kim is a handful. Then, it was Liv turn. The day before, Noah got sick, so she decided to stay at home with him. That’s fair, Noah’s health first. And last but not least, your best friend and her husband canceled too. “No one to take care of the kid,” apparently. Is that what it is to have kids? Not having fun anymore? Cause if that’s it, maybe you don’t want one.

So, in the end, it’s just you and the boys. Not that you mind that thought at all.

You left early in the morning with Sonny. He offered to help you prepare the house, and go grocery shopping. “How’s the birthday girl?” he asked, gently as always.

“Kinda upset that everyone canceled. But I won’t let this ruin my day!”

“You’ll have fun anyway. We planned a few things with the guys,” he teased.

You spent the entire day annoying Sonny so he would talk. But he didn’t say a damn thing. Whatever they have prepared, you have no clue. It does stress you out a little but one thing is sure; you can trust them with your life.

Everything was ready when Mike, Nick and Rafael arrived. When Sonny opened the door to them, their arms were full. You saw booze, food, and gifts. Way too many gifts for one person. “What the hell is all of that?” you exclaimed when they dropped everything on the floor, in the living area.

“Everything we need to celebrate your 30th birthday. You will remember this weekend,” Mike said with a huge grin on his face. He walked up to you and hugged you softly. “Happy birthday Y/N,” he kissed your forehead.

Nick and Rafael did the same as Mike. Then, they quickly put their stuff in the bedrooms, before joining you and Sonny on the terrace, facing the ocean. The weather wasn’t the best, but you couldn’t care less.

“One rule for this weekend; not shop talk,” Nick warned and everyone agreed with it.

The evening started pretty smoothly. You were having drinks, eating the apéritif you and Sonny prepared earlier and chatting about nothing and everything. At some point, Rafael came back with a bottle of champagne and poured everyone a glass. “To our amazing Y/N,” he said, holding his glass in the air. “You probably have no idea what you mean to all of us and that’s actually what makes you even more lovable. We care about you more than you know. Happy birthday, querida,” he smiled and toast with you.

You looked at Rafael with puppy eyes. He and the three others know you’re not used to being praised like this, even though you deserve any less.

“This is nice! Mike, your turn,”

The sergeant obliged. He stood up and cleared his throat, “Everyone knows that me joining SVU was my dad’s idea, but honestly, I can’t thank him enough for making me. Cause now you’re in my life and girl, you won’t get rid of me. I can’t imagine my life without you, Y/N,” he paused, “and without those idiots either, but that’s not their birthdays,”

“You said it anyway,” Nick teased Mike.

“Shut up, Nick! Let him finish,” you elbowed Nick.

“Well, I was done actually. Happy birthday, honey,” he bent over to kiss your cheek and then toasted with you.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him. “Nick, now you can talk,” you were excited about this. The past weeks before your birthday hadn’t been easy, you overthink a lot about your life. You actually cried yourself to sleep the night before, but none of them know. Their words make you feel much better. You’re lucky to have them.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said before standing up, “We didn’t start on the right foot, you and me, probably because you never chewed your words with me and I hated it. But you were right on most of the things you ever told me. You’re - without a shadow of a doubt - the best friend I ever had. I can’t wait for us to fight like cats and dogs at the nursery home. Feliz cumpleaños, cariño,” he smiled at you and extended his glass so you could toast together, “Also, you’re hot as hell,”

It was an understatement to be honest, but Nick added this comment because he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he refused to see you cry on your birthday, because of something he said. Fortunately, it worked and you laughed instead of crying. “He’s right,” Rafael added with a wink. Of course, none of them missed how your cheeks turned bright red, even if you tried to play it cool.

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Sonny spoke and stood up. But he stayed silent for a moment, “What they said,” he simply said before sitting again.

Mike, Nick and Rafael immediately started to playfully boo him, “You suck man!” Nick exclaimed.

“You usually can’t shut up and now, that’s all you have to say?” Rafael teased him.

“Y/N should have the right to punish you,” Mike added.

“Oh yes, please! Can I punish you?” you eagerly asked.

“Oh honey,” Rafael grabbed your attention, “you don’t ask someone if you can punish them. You just do it,”

“I know, Rafi. But he’s a good catholic boy, remember? We can’t have him running out of the house, praying for our souls,”

“Y/N. You know Sonny is worse then all of us reunited,” Rafael said this so casually, he didn’t realize how it sounded.

“Dominick Carisi, you’re such a liar!” Mike shouted, “you told me you and Raf didn’t hook up!”

“Yeah well, about that? I lied,”

Sonny and Rafael exchanged sweet looks, while you were silently drinking your glass of champagne.. “Are you two dating or something?” Nick asked.

Rafael was about to say something, but Mike stood up in one quick motion and shouted even louder, “Oh my god!” The four of you looked at him, “I think what you should be asking, Nick, is if the three of them are a thing!”

One thing you hate about Mike is how he can read you like an open book. It was hard to hide from him, the night you had with Sonny and Rafael a few months ago. Now, there was no point to lie.

“I can’t believe you three hook up and didn’t say a damn thing,” Nick said.

“To be honest, I’m more offended about not being invited,” Mike added.

That’s how the night took a very different turn.

*****

“I think all the attention should be on the birthday girl,” Rafael said as he was unbuttoning his shirt. You and Sonny were kissing on one side of the couch while Mike and Nick were making out on the other side.

“Raf is right. To be fair, we have an entire weekend in this house,” Mike added.

In a matter of seconds, you were standing in the middle of the master bedroom, with the four men around you. “Mike and Nick need to know the safe word.” Rafael commented, and Sonny took his tongue out of your month to let you speak.

“Armadillo,” you said.

You can’t even begin to describe how you feel about all of this. Those four men just for you? All of their attention on you? That thought only could make cum on the spot. You had to remember the ground rules you had with Sonny and Rafael a few months ago, and the first one is not to overthink. You all know you can trust one another. You’re more safe with those four guys than with one single random guy.

Once the safe word was known to everyone, Sonny remained kissing you. You immediately granted access to his tongue, it was sloppy but passionate. Meanwhile, you felt a pair of hands taking off your top and another one taking care of your pants. “Matching underwear,” Mike commented, as he was the one staring, “You hoped for this, didn’t you?” You smiled against Sonny. You didn’t hope for a gangbang, but yes, you did hope to get lucky. But this was better than anything you hoped for.

“Of course, she did,” you heard Nick’s voice coming from behind you. He gently unhook your bra, freeing your tits and he didn’t waste a second before playing with them. Your nipples were already hard, craving for attention. “She knew she could have any of us,”

“Oh Nick, that’s worse than that. She knew she could have the four of us,” Rafael added, as one of his hands slided in your panties, feeling how hot and wet you were. “Guys, she is dripping,” he let the others know, and he gently started to tease your clit with his thumb.

As Sonny kept kissing you, Nick kept playing with your tits, and Rafael kept teasing your drenched entrance, Mike got undressed. You saw him from the corner of your eyes, and your attention quickly fell on his rock hard erection. He smiled when he noticed where you were looking and started to stroke himself. You locked eyes with him while tentatively trying to touch one of the guy's cock. Your hand landed on Sonny’s crotch and he groaned at the sensation, even through the fabric of his jeans. But Rafael used his free hand to grab your wrist. “Such a needy cock slut,” he said, right next to your ear.

“Maybe Sonny should replace his tongue with his cock,” Nick offered and he felt you nodding. So Sonny stopped kissing you, he briefly took a look at your swollen lips, and your naked body being taken care of by Rafael and Nick.

“Well, Mike, get closer,” Sonny said as he undressed himself, “She loves having two cocks in her mouth. Am I right, Y/N?”

Everything that was happening was too much, you struggled to find your words, so you nodded. But it wasn’t enough for them. “You want to hear you say it,” Mike said after he finally got closer to you.

“I--I want your cocks--” you moaned as Rafael finally entered your core with one finger, “in my month,” you moaned even more when Nick pinched both of your nipples, just enough to make it hurt, “All of them,” you finally added.

To make sure Rafael and Nick could still work on your body, Mike and Sonny stood up on the edge of the bed. Your face was right at their crotch. You took one cock in each hand, gently stroking them, “I think Mike should be first. I already know how your mouth feels,” you agreed and focused on Mike’s cock, but with your other hand still stroking Sonny’s. You softly licked the head, tasting the precum coming out, before taking him in your mouth. Mike let out a huge groan at the feeling, “Man, when was the last time you had a blowjob?” Nick joked.

“Way too long,” he managed to say.

You have to admit, it’s hard to give a good blowjob to a man, while two others are worshipping your body. But Rafael decided to withdraw his hand from your panties and quickly after, you felt a cold breeze as Nick’s hands and body drift away from you. “Don’t forget about Sonny, babygirl,” you heard from the other side of the room.

Your jaw is going to be sore as fuck in the morning as you opened your mouth as much as you could, to take both Sonny’s and Mike’s cocks in. Obviously, they can’t both fit in but it is mostly about playing with the heads and your tongue.

You jolted when you felt a very warm body against your back. You recognized Rafael’s smell. He was fully naked. He held your hips strongly, sliding his hard cock in your panties and stroking it against your ass. You felt his hot breath in your neck before he planted a few wet kisses there.

Your face was a mess. It was a mix of saliva and precum from both men. Your pussy was a mess too. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs. You kept sucking Sonny and Mike for a short moment before they made you stop. Mike got down from the bed and kissed you deeply, enjoying the mixture that was there.

Someone finally took your panties off, you don’t know who and you couldn’t care less. You were desperate to be fucked.

*****

The first to get inside you was Nick. You were lying on the bed, a complete mess already, and Nick got on top of you. He gently kissed you, teased your entrance for a short moment before sinking inside your pussy in a slow motion. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out. He started to thrust you, slow and deep at first.

The sounds you were making were such a turn on to the four men. As Nick was fucking you good, you had no idea where Mike, Sonny and Rafael were, until you felt someone climbing on the bed. When you opened your eyes, you saw Rafael’s face above you and his cock was a few inches from your mouth. “Open that pretty mouth for me,” he said and you obliged. As Nick was fucking your pussy, Rafael was facefucking you. And this was a lot to handle. It didn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm coming up. Your cries were muffled by Rafael’s thick cock as you came, and it brought him an overwhelming sensation that made him groan hard. “Such a good girl, creaming my cock like this,” Nick said. He wasn’t far from coming either. He buried his face in your neck, and he felt your nails crashing on his skull. It took a few more thrusts before he loaded his hot cum inside you, crying out your name.

He stayed on top of you for a moment before pulling out, at the same time Rafael stopped facefucking you and you cried at the emptiness.

“Someone doesn’t like to feel empty?” It was Sonny who talked. He was sitting next to you and he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, taking Nick’s cum back where it belonged. Your body arched at the feeling and you moaned deeply. “So worked up already. But we’re not done with you,”

“You better not,” you laughed.

“Oh, she’s teasing!” Mike exclaimed. “Babygirl, when we're done with you, you won’t be able to sit for weeks. Everyone at the precinct will wonder what happened during the weekend,” he kissed you while Sonny added a third finger inside your core. You felt a second orgams building inside your belly.

“You better not come on Sonny’s fingers,” Rafael warned you, “You’re only allowed to come on our cocks,” you found him in the room and locked eyes with him.

You knew from his expression what he was waiting for, “Yes, sir,” you agreed.

“That’s our good girl,”

Then it was Sonny’s. The man has a soft spot for a good doggy style, so he ordered you to get on all fours and you obeyed. He stroked his cock between your ass cheeks for a moment before sliding inside you so easily. “God, you take us so well, baby,” he said as he started to thrust. He was faster than Nick, and you know from experience that Sonny has incredible stamina. He can rock inside you hard and fast for a long moment.

“You feel so good inside me,” you moaned, “Fuck, Sonny! Yes!”

“That’s right, take that cock, doll,” he said, slamming harder.

As you grabbed the sheets into your fists, you felt someone crawling under you. It was Nick. He laid down and brought your mouth to his in an eager kiss. Sonny kept fucking you, his hands were strongly holding your hips, so you understood it was someone else that spank you. Mike or Rafael, you didn’t know - although, you had an idea; Rafael does love to spank you - and you cried inside Nick’s mouth. Then you felt someone grabbing your arms to lock them in your back. Nick held you close against him, stroking your hair as your second orgasm hit you hard.

Feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, and hearing you cursing non sense, sent Sonny over the edge. He almost collapsed on you as he came deep inside you.

You felt the emptiness when Sonny took his cock out of you but it was quickly filled by someone’s fingers. You were just a pile of lambs on Nick, but you jolted when one of them curled two fingers inside your pussy. “You love that, don’t you? Nick’s and Sonny’s cum mixing inside you,” You don’t know if that’s Rafael that is fingering you but he’s the one talking. You were still catching your breath when the fingers were replaced by a cock teasing your entrance.

“Do you want to keep going, babygirl? We can st--”

“I didn’t say the word, did I, Mike?” you shot.

“Right. Then it’s my turn to fill that pussy,” he didn’t give you the time to answer, he shoved his cock inside your cunt.

“Oh fuck! Mike, yes!”” you cried.

Nick stayed under you as Mike fucked you hard. Mike’s short nails scratched your back as he went in and out of you. He withdrew completely before sinking back and bottoming down. He did that a few times, enjoying your noises every time he hit your sweet spot. “Damn, that pussy is so perfect,” he growled.

“It was made for us,” Sonny said.

On your left, you saw Rafael standing there, stroking his cock as he watched Mike fucking you. You extended your hand to replace his and he let you. “You can’t get enough,” he teased you.

“Never,” you grinned.

Mike grabbed your hair in his fist, bringing your back to his chest. That new angle almost sent you over the edge again. “Holy shit, this feels amazing,” you breathed out. You didn’t notice the look Rafael and Sonny exchanged. You sloppily kept stroking Rafael, while Sonny’s hand found its way to your clit. Mike had to hold you close to him as a third orgasm arrived.

Nick was still laying on the bed, an arm under his head. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s like my very own porn movie,”

“Get ready to take a new part in it,” Sonny winked at him.

“Working on it,” he said, stroking his semi hard cock.

Sonny chuckled before burying his face in your chest. He sucked on your nipples, and kept playing with your clit. “Jesus, fuck! I--I’m--coming,” you managed to say as your third orgasm hit. You held onto Sonny’s shoulder for dear life, Mike was slamming so hard and fast inside you, chasing his own orgasm. He bit your shoulder as he emptied himself deep inside you, adding his semence to Sonny’s and Nick’s.

You collapsed in Sonny’s arms and he gently laid you on the bed, next to Nick. Mike was catching his breath on the edge of the bed. “Water,” you managed to say.

Not that it mattered, but Nick seems to be the best for the aftercare. He gently stroked your hair, and planted sweet kisses all over your face. Sonny came back with water for everyone. All of this is more than amazing, this can’t be compared to anything you ever experienced before but you gladly enjoyed the water break.

As you were sitting on the bed, Rafael grabbed your face to kiss you. It was soft, almost loving. Your hands traveled his hairy chest as you granted access to his tongue. You fell on your back, taking him with you. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Never better. Fuck me, Raf,”

On the other side of the bed, Nick chuckled. “Three cocks, three orgasms and she is still asking for it. You’re such a pretty slut, Y/N, aren't you?”

“I’m your slut. To the four of you,” you smiled at him.

Rafael teased your entrance with his cock as he was kissing and nipping your neck. Your pussy was a wet and sticky mess. The other men fucked you open, Rafael slided inside you so easily. To be honest, he wasn’t far from coming already after everything he witnessed and you wrapped him so perfectly, it was overwhelming.

You moaned loudly in his ear, your nails digging in his skull. As he thrusted into you, he couldn’t help but to slap your thigh, since he can’t reach your ass for a proper spank. But you could reach his, so you returned the favor. It took him by surprise, so did the growl he let out. “Someone likes to be spank,” Sonny commented, before duplicating your action on Rafael’s ass.

Another spank, but this time from Mike. And one from Nick. You loved having all the attention from the guys, but you have to admit that this brings something else to you. Hopefully this will be repeated before you go back to New York, but this time, this will be an orgy, instead of a gangbang.

You bit Rafael’s bottom lip, as he thrusted fast and hard inside you. “Give it to me, Raf. I need you to cum inside me, just like them,” he crashed his lips on yours, as a hand traveled between the two of you to play with your clit. You were oversensitive, and exhausted, you weren’t sure you could have a fourth orgasm before it hit you. You wrapped your arms around Rafael’s neck, “That’s right, babygirl, let it go. Cum on my cock,” he said in your ear, huskily.

That was exactly what you needed to cum one more time. Rafael’s thrusts became sloppy as he chased his relief. Finally, he added his liquid to the mixture and collapsed on you.

*****

“I have to admit, I’m so glad everyone else canceled,” you confessed, laying like a sea star on the bed. Obviously, the four men agreed with you.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” they all said at the same time.

Best fucking birthday ever.

[themxlkyyway]

0. The strange girl and the letter

Navigation ⋅ Main Masterlist

Warning: Fights, yelling, family problems, poor treatment, abandonment.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Copying, adapting, and plagiarism, whether in person or digitally, is totally prohibited. Please do not translate and use it as your own work.

May 3, 1983

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes lived a normal life at 6 Magnolia Crescent, where outside the house they made believe they were a perfect family but inside the four walls they were demons.

Mr. Barnes was a doctor at the nearest hospital. A tall freckled man with dark hair resembling the color black. Mrs. Barnes was a housewife. A woman of short stature, red hair resembling fire, skin as white as paper and lips the same color as her hair, which made anyone who turned to look at her notice her lips. The Barnes had me, Amelea Barnes, they always made it clear to me what a terrible decision they made, which was to have me. They always compared me to the other children, telling me that I should be just as normal as they were. They said that because of my eyes, making me feel insecure about myself when I was 5 years old.

That is how at the age of 5 I was left in the hands of my paternal grandmother Isabela Barnes and nothing got better, or rather, worse. For years I suffered mistreatment from her, every day I heard the same phrase "you are good for nothing". During the years with her, my voice was muffled, I felt alone, no one understood me. I had no social life, I had no friends, everyone kept me away from the outside world as if they wanted to hide me from something, I didn't understand and I don't think I would ever understand it.

March 14, 1988

Today was my 10th birthday, I was still living with my grandmother Isabela and nothing has improved, the mistreatment continued and my spirits were disappearing more and more. I could see the window from my bed and the sky was not pretty at all, it was full of clouds, but it didn't look like a threat of rain. In a matter of seconds the day got worse just by hearing his voice.

— Come on, get up, you have to make breakfast! — Isabella shouted as she knocked furiously on the door.

That made me snort angrily.

— I said, get up!

— I'm coming, I'm coming! — I mumbled as I pulled the covers off my body, brushed my teeth in the bathroom before heading downstairs to the kitchen, watching as Grandma Isabela calmly read the newspaper. I rolled my eyes walking to the fridge to take out the eggs and bacon so I could fry them in a pan. My grandmother was a chubby woman with a large amount of dark hair covering her head and short neck. I placed the plates full of cooked eggs and bacon on the table and left again to toast the bread.

— Don't forget the peanut butter. — Grandma Isabela said without looking up from that boring newspaper.

I snorted again as I had done minutes ago in my room.

— What did you say? — she said raising her voice.

— Nothing...

I took the toasted breads to the table and looked for that peanut butter for grandma Isabela, I didn't feel like fighting with her today and even more knowing that she didn't remember my birthday, I don't think she has ever congratulated me nor anyone has ever celebrated it.

We ate in silence, I never looked up from my plate trying to eat as fast as possible so I could go back to my room to read one of my many books.

— Clean the dishes, I want everything as it was. — Grandma Isabela said as she got up from her chair with her newspaper in hand leaving her dirty dishes and the peanut butter container open. She walked through the narrow kitchen door leaving me at the table with half my plate still full. I threw the food in the trash can and began to clean up with no emotion on my face. I put the container back in the cupboard from which I had taken it and quickly walked back to my room.

My birthday was an ordinary day, nothing exciting, like every year after I started living with my grandmother Isabela, if my birthday fell on a weekday, I could miss that day of school, but I would rather be at school than in this hell under grandma's roof. She had the luxury of being present every moment to make everything worse, when I find friends, she has the task of taking them away from me, as if I were a flea dog, making me live alone, without any joy.

I would stand by my bedroom window with a book in hand after taking a shower. These were the best times where there was peace and quiet, no screaming, just me and my book. The day I once said it looked like it would not rain, it made a change of plans and it showed when from the sky there was a large light and then it made the roar of thunder causing me to startle and leave my book next to me.

I took my gaze to the courtyard, where the poor flowers that my grandmother Isabela "took care of" were, which I really took care of. In the distance I could see a small figure that I couldn't decipher, could it be a bird? No, it looks too big to be a bird. A dog? It could be, but I couldn't see the similarity. A cat? Possibly, but when I got ready to take a closer look at it, the rain began to fall harder, making that little figure run away.

Night fell and it was time for dinner, after breakfast I hadn't eaten, as grandma Isabela wouldn't allow me to, because I was a bad girl. I was in the kitchen already making dinner when grandma Isabela came through that narrow door, the floor was rumbling letting me know she was angry.

— Can you tell me what this is? — Grandma Isabela said in a loud tone as she threw a letter on the dining room table. I left some potatoes boiling and walked over to the table and frowned at the letter.

— The bill is expensive again, don't you have any consideration! — I could feel Grandma Isabela's saliva on my face when she started yelling at me in an aggressive manner.

— You don't allow me to use the light and you only allow me to bathe once a day, maybe you are the one who is overspending. — I tried to sound as calm as possible so I wouldn't get any more scolding, but that only made her even angrier.

— You know what? You've already overflowed the glass, I've had to put up with you for 4 years-

— 5 years. — I whispered.

— For 5 years and you've only been able to complain, I've given you everything, a roof to sleep under, food, water, studies, you're just a spoiled brat, a good-for-nothing. That's why your parents don't love you and left you!

I knew that none of that was real, I have never complained, yes I have a roof to sleep under, but food is limited to me and water too. I haven't heard from my parents since the day they left me with my chubby witch of a grandmother. Despite my parents' treatment, I would rather be with them than, with grandma, I never knew what I did wrong as to make them leave me completely. A sentence brought me out of my thoughts.

— You're leaving the house tonight, I can't stand you anymore, I don't care where you have to live, but I don't want you on my roof, get all your things out and before 10 o'clock, I want you out! — she screamed as she took the bill from the table again and headed to the door.

— You can't leave me like this grandma Isabela, I have nowhere to go. — I said in panic, again they wanted to take me out of the house, I couldn't stand another abandonment.

— I don't care, get out, I don't want to see your stupid face again, get lost from my sight! — With that he walked out of the kitchen leaving me with nerves and lots of boiling potatoes. I heard a door slam shut letting me know she had left the house. I ran out to my room leaving those potatoes on the fire, I didn't care about them anymore, I wasn't even hungry after that little argument. I looked around the house for suitcases so I could put my few clothes and books in them. Having two suitcases in hand, from the door I looked into the empty room.

I opened the front door and walked out of the house still listening to the water boiling the potatoes, nothing mattered to me anymore, I had dried tears on my cheeks and in my eyes there was no feeling. I just dragged my suitcases with me in search of some shelter while I recovered from everything that had happened.

March 14, 1989

It was my birthday again, exactly one year ago my grandmother Isabela had literally thrown me out of the house. Her voice and her words still echoed in my head. I found myself living in an alley, close to where I had lived, under some pieces of wood covering me from the hot sun, the rain and the night.

I had gone out a few minutes ago to the street in front of the alley in search of some food that I could find. Out of nowhere, or so I thought, an owl arrived with a letter in its beak, but what was an owl doing in the middle of the city? It left the letter in my hand before flying off back the way it had come.

Miss A. Barnes Alley 6 Magnolia Crescent Little Whinging Surrey

How did they know where I lived? That was very strange. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald green ink. It had no stamp.

I turned it over so I could open it and noticed a purple wax seal with a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake, surrounding a large letter H. I opened the letter carefully so as not to damage it and took out the letter so I could read it:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF MAGIC Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Head Wizard, Supreme Head, International International Confederation of Wizards).

Dear Ms. Barnes

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Magic. Please notice the list of required equipment and books.

Classes begin on September 1. We are waiting for your owl before July 31st.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

My owl? What owl? I don't have an owl. Besides, there's no such thing as Magic School, and where is Hogwarts? I had never heard of a school by that name. My head was full of questions. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a small figure pass by me, I quickly looked up and saw a very beautiful tabby cat, it had an elegant demeanor. I approached him and when I was about to touch his head he ran off into the alley.

— Wait, don't go, my friend!

I went after him, forgetting the food I had picked up and still holding the letter in my hands. Instead of meeting that cat, I met a lady, who was wearing square glasses, her hair was in a bun.

— How did you get in here? — I said as I tried to look for that cat with my eyes.

— That cat would be me, my dear. — said that woman without any expression on her face.

— But you can't be a cat if you are human. — I answered confused.

— That doesn't matter, you got the letter, I see. — She said as she looked at my hands which were holding the letter.

— I think you are wrong, there is no Hogwarts School, and there is no such thing as magic. — I looked over the letter again.

— There is, my dear, and you are one of the many chosen to study there.

— Chosen?

— You are a witch, Miss Barnes.

— Me? A witch? You must be mistaken. — I said with a frown as I shook my head. - I can't be a witch, I'm just an ordinary girl.

— You're much more than that, and you'll notice it soon enough.

My head had even more questions than when I was reading the letter. My mind did not know how to understand the information that the lady in front of me was telling me.

— My name is Professor McGonagall and I will be your guide during this time until you enter school.

Tags: @imma-too-many-fandoms

[ncssian]

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

[bubblybubbubs]

Stuck With Me (3)

Summary - Draco’s POV on losing his soulmate

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count - 3.5k

AN- I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 1  2 

taglist - @lonely-kermit @lifeasdreamgirl @mera-shifts @abbyloubaton @clumsilyclueless @confusedscreaminggremlin @seanh-boredom @weasleysmalfoyxstyles @thefandomplace @mayempress @shadyrose66622 @jay-jay-love @ktvia @lovebynorth @sweet-creature98 @remmyswritings​ @chaoticgirl04

Sometimes Draco thought about how different his life would be had he not left you, had you not gotten hurt and lost your fucking memory.

It was truly ridiculous, the universe was actively conspiring against him, he was sure of it.

His current living situation just proved that further to him. “Wake the fuck up.” Blaise said slowly pouring water on his face even though Blaise himself was evidently groggy. “I will kill you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Draco was unsure as to why Blaise had chosen to live in a crappy apartment when his family Manor was free. He missed his silk sheets and expensive pillows. Yet sadly the ministry had decided they wanted to take that leaving Draco on Blaise’s smelly consignment store couch. Had he gotten completely cut off by his family? Perhaps, it would make the disgustingly plain beans and toasts they ate daily make a lot more sense. He’d hate to think that Blaise fed them this by choice.

“Guess who wrote.” Blaise said, wiggling a letter in Draco’s face.

“Loud ginger?”

“Loud ginger.” He confirmed dropping it in on Draco’s face. “You should answer her before we get a howler, then we’ll really see how loud the ginger can get.” Draco looked at the letter, Ginny’s name was scrawled on the envelope and the aggressiveness of the signature made him heavily considering not opening it but the possibility of getting a howler from her convinced him otherwise.

Draco,

You are the worst and I hate you. I’m not sure if you care anymore given that you have refused to make contact with her but y/n is doing fine. I mean sure she’s been asking about her soulmate and lying to her is slowly killing me, but I’m glad you and Blaise are having fun in your bachelor pad and that you have successfully cleared your amnesiac soulmate out of your head.  

Looking forward to hearing your pathetic excuses,

Ginny Weasley.

It was way too fucking early for this.

-

Things were strange.

You had gotten most of your memories back but everything was very different than what you remembered, everyone was different after the war.

The Weasleys, oh the poor Weasleys, they were like your family but the life has been sucked out of them without Fred. They had all tried to hide it from you, they believed you were already going through enough and you didn’t need their problems too. Ginny especially, she hadn’t left your side since you woke up. You kind of felt bad for Harry because whenever he wanted to spend some one on one time with Ginny she always insisted you tagged along.

For example whatever the fuck this current situation was.

“I’m really sorry Harry.” You whispered to him. “I told her I’d be fine alone.”

At first it had sort of made sense how careful everyone had been around you, but at this point it was exhausting. You would walk into a room and it would just go silent. You lost your memory, not your basic communication skills.

“It’s fine, I understand Ginny can be quite persistent.”

“What about me.” Ginny said hooking her arms with the both of you.

“Just that I don’t think I should be going on your dates anymore, it’s kind-“

“Ginny.” Harry said interrupting you pointing towards a boy down the street. He was blonde and lanky, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

You had seen Ginny mad, in fact it was one of the first things to come back to you. Her calm fury was something that hadn’t remained constant since she was young and right now you saw it on her face as she stared daggers into the boy.

She scoffed. “I’ll be back.”

“This might take a while.” Harry said quietly, shaking his head. “Come on we can meet Ginny there.” You stole a glance across the street as Harry dragged you away. Ginny was yelling at the boy but he didn’t seem to care because he wasn’t looking at her he was looking at you. You felt your face heat up and you looked away from him following Harry. “Who was that, should I know him?”

Harry paused for a minute.

He had that face that people had whenever they were walking on eggshells around you.“He went to school with us but I don’t think you two were ever friends.” The way he didn’t look you in the eyes screamed to you that he was lying.Harry was always a horrible bloody liar.

-

It was really hard for Draco to process what Ginny was saying. Her anger had gone right to her face and Draco had been silently betting with himself as to how long it would take for her face to turn the same color as her hair. “Your face is really red.” Draco said, struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you drunk.” Ginny said stoically.

Was he? It was likely, he honestly couldn't remember the morning or yesterday. The days were sort of blending together.

“Malfoy.” Ginny said. Usually when people used his name they were yelling at him or were angry at him. But Ginny said it with pity which somehow felt worse.

“I don’t get why you're doing this to yourself.” She said. “You’re miserable.” He deserved to be miserable.

“It’s for the best.”

“How’s that.”

Draco had no interest in divulging his feelings to weaslette of all people, but it seemed his judgement was slightly impaired by the alcohol he may or may not had been drinking. “I’m going to fucking Azakban Ginevra,I just dont see the point in telling her I’m her soulmate and possibly facing rejection just for me to be thrown in Azkaban for the rest of my life.” Draco huffed. “Even if she somehow forgave me, I doubt the dementors will be allowing conjugal visits.”

“There are no more dementors at Azkaban, Kingsley got rid of them.”

Now normally Draco was against hitting girls but he was considering it heavily. “Thank you Weasley. I feel way better, I’m sure Azkaban is a paradise now. Remind me to send Kingsley a thank you letter.”

“Draco.” Ginny said.

Gross, hearing Ginny say his first name with pity felt even worse.

“You’re not going to Azkaban, Harry agreed to speak at your trial.”

“Oh great he’ll testify to the one time I helped him, I’m sure it’ll cancel everything else out.” He said. “I’m not a good person Weasley, that’s why I know I’m going to Azkaban, because I deserve it.”

“Is that why you’re staying away from y/n?” Ginny said even angrier than before. “Is this some sort of self punishment.”

Draco stayed quiet.

“Merlin, Draco go to fucking therapy.” Ginny huffed. “You’re not the only one that’ll suffer because of your self pity. She needs her fucking soulmate back, as much as I hate you for everything you’ve put her through I can’t argue with the fucking universe and neither can you.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have fucking gotten involved with her in the first place, it’s only put her in danger.” He took a deep shaky breath. “And her losing her memory was the universe’s way of telling me to stay away.”

He had known for a long time that she was too good for him  

It was dark and he was tired, turns out making potter stinks badges and teaching all of Slytherin clever chants was demanding. Draco wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings as he walked back to his dorm until of course he heard quiet sobs. He was a firm believer that crying in public was pathetic, especially in a hallway where anyone could stumble across you. And he might’ve told them that had it not been you. He had been thinking about you, not that he would ever tell anyone that ever. But how could he not, you were his soulmate and that had to mean something.

He barely had time to think as his feet moved on their own bringing him in front of you.

“Why are you crying.”

Merlin, could he have been any less compassionate.

“Why do you care Malfoy.” You said.

He hated the way you looked pretty even if your eyes were all puffy and your face was all red.

“I don’t.”

He did. He even started to walk away for dramatic effect of course.

“I’m scared.” It felt weird to hear sincere words from you that weren't you yelling at him, and he hated the fact that he didn't hate it. “Harry has his first task tomorrow he could get hurt or worse.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Don’t tell him I told you this but he has to be some sort of invincible to defeat Voldemort at the age of 1. Don't you think?”He could hardly believe the words he was saying.

“I suppose you’re right.” You finished off.

Draco sat tensely, he wasn't exactly sure what to do. He couldn't hug you could he? No that would be seriously overstepping. You would probably punch him in the face, again. After all you had been the one who wanted to forget about the whole soulmate thing and of course you were a halfblood and a gryffindor on top of that. It would never work.

For once he hated being right.

-

You were actively weighing how likely it was for Ginny to kill you if you woke her up.

Very, is what you eventually came up with. Maybe you could play the amnesia card.

“What do you want y/n.” Ginny grogged from under her. “I’ve been listening to you shifting around for the last hour.”

You had been staying at the Weasley’s and you had absolutely refused to take Fred’s bed so that had resulted in a cramped hammock floating in Ginny’s room.

You turned around to face her with a sorry look on your face.

“Did I know that boy, the one you were yelling at.” You said. “I just feel like I knew him.”

Ginny was quiet the same way Harry was. “No.” She said turning away from you. “No you didn’t.”

“Ginny-”

“Y/n please don’t.” Ginny said, cutting you off. “It’s not for me to tell, if it was believe me you’d already know.”

“I want to go.”

“Go where.”

“To Hogwarts.”

It was embarrassing. Everyone had gone already; they had been able to at least attempt to cope with the trauma they had endured. And you who couldn't even remember the bloody war couldn't work up the nerves to go.

Ginny stared at you for a bit before muttering. “Hermione and Ron are going soon, they’ll likely let you join them.” You were about to make an argument about going on your own before Ginny turned back around nonverbally telling you that the conversation was over.

You still couldn’t sleep and not from lack of trying. Your mind was whirring, ever since you had seen Ginny yell at the boy your lack of memory seemed to be feeling different. And your fear was beginning to settle in, your doctor said that some memories may never come back and that thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t feel all that different, Ginny said you were the same whenever you asked. But she could be lying (since she seemed to be in the habit of doing so these days) and you would never know because you had amnesia.

-

Draco was regretting not taking his plea deal. He would much rather be sleeping in Azkaban than waking up on Blaise’s concerningly uncomfortable couch to an angry looking ginger towering over him. No one seemed to value his rest and it was getting ridiculous. He pressed his eyes closed and pull his blanket further over his face in hopes that maybe Ginevra would disappear. Sadly that was not the case and Ginny ripped the blanket off of him leaving Draco quite cold.

Ginny stared down at him as she stood impatiently at the foot of the couch.

“Blaise someone broke into your flat.”

“I noticed mate.” Blaise said who looked just as exhausted hunched over his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked remember, or were you drunk too?”

Ginny did not look amused and Draco almost felt bad for being so difficult but then he remembered he didn't care.

“Y/n’s going to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. She’s likely going to get her memories back.” Ginny said. “Thought you should know.”

Draco sat up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Ginny said taking a deep breath. “You need to be there.”

“How so?”

“She’s going to remember all the shitty things you’ve done to her and are yet to apologize for and you’re going to lose your soulmate for good.”

“I don't see how me being there will change that.”

Ginny didn't answer him rather she walked towards his chimney. “You know what, screw you. I truly do not care if you go, I just thought you should have the choice that's all.”

Ginny didn't look at Draco, rather giving Blaise a short nod before using the floo to go back to the Burrow.

Draco let himself fall back down to the couch as he listened to Blaises loudly chow down his cereal.

“So are you going to go?” Blaise said his mouth still full.

He felt bad for Blaise’s mum all that money on etiquette lessons for what?

“No.” Draco said, burying his head in his pillow.

“You’re a tosser.”

“I can live with that.”

He could and he has. If he had a sickle for everytime he was called some variation of ‘tosser’ he certainly would not be sleeping on Blaise’s couch.

“I’m calling Pansy.” Blaise didn’t scare him, not in the slightest. But Pansy was another story, Pansy scared everyone, especially the people that loved her which sadly included Draco. “I will kill you.”

“You’re just saying that cause you know she’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I have a lot of sense.” Draco groaned. “In fact I have too much sense.”

Blaise ignored Draco’s exaggerated groans as he called Pansy.The call was short or maybe it was long, all Draco knew was that Pansy was standing over him with that look on her face.

“I’m not going, and you’re not changing my mind Pansy.”

“Blaise leave.” Pansy ordered.

Blaise looked insulted. “This is my house.”

“You call this a house?”

Blaise huffed mumbling under his breath curses at Pansy.

“That was rude.”

“So you're going to lecture me on rudeness now, that's rich coming from you.”

“I dont care.”

“You look and smell like shit, I can tell you ‘don’t care’.” Pansy said.

Never in her life had Pansy been one to sugar coat things and apparently she had no intention of starting to do so. Draco was going to argue it was the couch but he realized he couldn't remember the last time he showered so he kept his mouth shut. Draco a year ago would’ve drowned himself in the black lake had he known he’d come to be like this.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m pulling the card.”

“Pansy no that’s not fair.” Draco said sitting up.

“Fair?”

Poor choice of words.

“Draco, do I have to remind you my soulmate is dead, I stopped feeling tugs and being able to talk to my soulmate when i was 13. Your soulmate is alive by some fucking miracle, and frankly you’re being a selfish prick.”

“Oh.” He always hated when Pansy talked about it. Not because he didn't care but according to Pansy because he cared too much and the last time he had shown any sign of pity towards Pansy it had not gone well for him.

“What lies do you have Ginevra feeding her, does she think she has no soulmate, does she think her soulmate is dead?”

“She doesn’t think she has a soulmate.” Draco said in a low voice, he wasn't proud of what he was doing but he also knew he had no choice. “She was in her coma during the tug. I figured by the time the next one rolls around I have something figured out.”

“And what about you.” She asked. “She may not remember you but you’ll remember her, you'll never forget that you have a soulmate out there that you refuse to see.”

“I won't let myself ruin her.”

“She’s a grown woman, I find it demeaning that you don't see her capable of making her own damn choices.”

“What?”

“You think she'll hate you, you think she’ll be ruined, you think she’s better off. What about what she thinks? You think she'd be okay with you slowly killing yourself?”

“You're a bitch Pansy.���

“So I’ve been told.” She looked towards the clock.

“Come on lets get you something to eat.”

She reached her hand out for Draco to grab.

“I can walk to the kitchen without holding your hand thank you very much.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed onto Draco’s arm.

“What are you-”

Draco’s sentence was cut off by Pansy apparating them both out of the loft.

-

Draco had gone to his fair share of therapy, did it ever work? no, Draco would rather die before talking about his feelings with a stranger but he had been taught his fair share of anger exercises . And Merlin did they come in handy, truly it was the only thing keeping him from throttling Pansy as she stood there with a smug face looking at the rubble that once was Hogwarts.

“Pansy.” Draco said slowly.

“Shut up, look she’s right there.”

“I’m not ready Pansy.” Draco said wiping his palms on his pants out of stress. “I wanted to bring her flowers.”

“flowers?”

“Forget me nots.” He said with a sardonic dry chuckle. “It was our unofficial flower, ironic isn’t it.”

“The fact that you have an unofficial flower makes me want to throw up.”

“I need flowers.” He said. Pansy groaned before searching the grass. She picked up a dandelion swirling her wand transfiguring it into a bouquet of forget me nots.

“Here, go.” He was about to give another excuse but Pansy apperated away. The one time he needed her she leaves.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to approach her without seeming like a stalker.

His thoughts were disrupted by Hermione and Ron walking up to him. He wanted to turn around so bad but he had no doubt that if he did so Hermione and Ron wouldn’t hesitate to curse him.

“Granger, Weasley.” He said sticking his hands as deep as his pockets would allow him.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged.

“Just go talk to her.” Ron said.

“Thats why Im here.”

Ron mumbled something under his breath but Draco didn’t feel like fighting Weasley.

Draco had never felt such anxiety because of another person. He had always been confident and walked around like he owned the world, but now he felt scared.He watched you as you traced your hands across the bricks of Hogwarts, his steps faltering as he came closer to you.

“Hi Y/n.” He called out.

You turned to look at him. Draco’s heart felt heavy at the way you looked at him, not any recognition in your eyes. You had once looked at him with such love, then such hate but now you looked at him with nothing. because right now that’s what he was to you, and it broke his heart.

“You.” You said stepping closer. “You were the one talking to Ginny.”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking, she yelled I stood there.”

“Ginny does that a lot.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” He said.

You spotted the flowers in his hands.

“I’m sorry, who did you lose?”

His hands tightened on the flowers.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You said. “I lost my friend Fred, and my memory. But I don't feel like I lost it since I can't remember ever having it. But I miss Fred.”

He studied every centimeter of your face noting the subtle changes he didn’t notice the last time he saw you as you rambled on about Fred anxiously.

“You.” He said voice wavering. “I lost you.”

You stayed quiet for a second.

“I’m sorry I-“

“don’t know who I am?” He said with a dry laugh. “I was sort of expecting that.”

You didn’t say anything studying his face for anything that sparked a memory in you.

He dug through his jacket pocket pulling out a photo.

His hands were sweating and he tried his best not to touch your hand. Partially because he didn’t want you to feel his sweaty hands and because he feared he would break down at the realization that you were finally here in front of him.

“I’m Draco and you’re my soulmate.” He said

-

AN THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART THE LAST PART WILL BE THE NEXT PART

[niksfics]

↬ WHAT COULD NEVER BE PT. 2

↬ PAIRINGS: Atsumu x f!reader (ft Bokuto)

↬ WARNINGS: sad shit, horrible writing (I feel like I botched this) kagehina mention, cheating, alcohol mention, reversed unrequited love. !! UNEDITED!!

↬ SUMMARY: honorable mention goes to @multi-fandom-fanfic for giving me this idea in the comment section of the first part it’s not exactly years later but it’s still some time later

↬ A/N: I totally did not cry while writing this pft

↬ WC: | 1.5K |

↬ TAG(S): @erinoikawa @fromdelos

“What does she have that I don’t” the amount of times that, that sentence had played over in my head was starting to exhaust me. Remembering the desperation in my voice caused my nose to scrunch up in a cringe until I shook the thoughts out of my head. Walking away from bokuto that night had been the second hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life so far.

Weeks and weeks later I’d still had the ache in my chest the tears still welled up in my eyes whenever I thought about him with her, but these tears never fell. I hadn’t fully cried over him in weeks and I patted myself on the back for that. I could feel myself starting to move on. To forget.

I still cheered for the MSBY Black Jackals, but I had started online college to get my fashion degree. I’d always had a dream to work for a big corporation like vogue. Things in my life were finally starting to look up, and Miya Atsumu had taken the place that bokuto had left open that night.

He was my support system. Coddling me when he could in the weeks following bokutos wedding. I was unaware of his feelings. Oblivious at first. Until I started to notice the lingering touches he left, and although I was worried about hurting him, it excited me.

— — —

Two years had passed since the night I realized I would never feel my best friends embrace they way I craved. Two years, and now I craved a different persons embrace. The person I’d been dating for a year now, and in the second year of the two years I’d spent healing I’d slowly started mending my friendship with Bokuto. Of course I’d spoken to atsumu about it, and he’d shared his concerns but I was serious about the blonde man who’d unexpectedly stolen my heart.

I had been so caught up in Miya Atsumu it was like highschool all over again. He made me feel alive, and I grounded him when he felt like he was drifting away. The separation from his twin took a harder toll on him than he ever would have realized. So being the loving girlfriend I was I’d organized a night out with the Jackals; Kotaro and koyuki, Kiyoomi, Hinata and kageyama me and Atsumu, and Osamu and his girlfriend. It would be the first time we would all be together since the wedding.

I was nervous and this night would be the start of something out of anyone’s control. It started off normal Osamu and Atsumu hugging and exchanging pleasantries before they would start bickering and trying to compete over something stupid during dinner.

Shy kageyama who had been so stiff at the wedding seemed to be in his element with his arm draped over hinata’s shoulders while he whispered in his ear. The ginger smiling lovingly at his fiancé and it got me thinking about marrying Atsumu. It sparked a tsunami of feeling throughout my body and I found myself smiling to myself before, Cadence —osamu’s stunning girlfriend from the states— bumped my shoulder with hers and smirked at me.

“I’m glad you came up with this idea. Samu was starting to get all pissy about not being able to see his brother.” I smiled sheepishly and blushed as I shook my hand, “it was nothing tsumu was getting the same way and I really wanted to meet you so it was a win win.” She smiled and I caught bokuto looking at me from across the table. The chair next to him empty.

I smiled and leaned across the table, “hey bo! Where’s the missus?” His smile faltered slightly and if I wasn’t so good at reading bokuto I would have missed it entirely but I didn’t, “oh she had to stay late in the office tonight so she couldn’t come.” I gave him a sympathetic smile and he shrugged before the waiter came to our table and I turned to Atsumu.

Later on in the night I had gotten pretty tipsy the champagne finally hitting me, and I smiled lazily at Atsumu, adoration in my eyes and he smirked, “s’the alcohol finally getting to ya pretty girl?” He asked and I nodded before putting my forhead on his upper arm and sighing.

He moves to stand up taking a glass and a knife with him, and my eyes widen in horror over what he’s about to do. He clinks the knife on the glass a bit to carelessly and it breaks, “ah!! tsumu ya moron what the hell are ya doin?” Osamu asks standing up abruptly to avoid the liquid as a waiter rushes over to clean up the mess.

Atsumu smiles and turns to the waiter and apologizes before looking over the table at our friends, “well I just wanted ta toast ta my amazing girlfriend who I would not have if it weren’t for that idiot right there,” I facepalm as he points at bokuto and bokuto winces slightly before looking at me pained and I mouth a sorry to him.

“So thank ya buddy cause if ya weren’t oblivious I would never have gotten such an amazing partner who loves me so much that she brought my annoying little brother out here to see me.” I hear Osamu groan and roll his eyes.

“you’re only three minutes older than me ya troll.” Atsumu smiles patronizingly at osamu, “shut yer trap samu yer elder is talkin'.” Everyone laughs at that and he finally sits down before I hit his shoulder and smile at him slightly, “you’re an idiot tsum-tsum” he shrugs, “but I’m yer idiot right y/n?” And then he plants a big sloppy kiss on my cheek and I squeal in disgust.

The amount of happiness and joy coursing through my body had been missed. I was finally over the one person I thought I would need to live, and with the person I was destined for. I finally had what bokuto had. I couldn’t be happier.

After that night things between me and bokuto were tense for awhile. I brushed it off as he thought maybe I was still hung up on him. Oh how I couldn’t have been more wrong. I had no idea the anger and jealousy that was bubbling up under bokutos skin, and the most frustrating part of all of the bullshit that was going on, was he didn’t understand why he felt like this. He was happily married. I mean as happily married as one person could be right?

It only got worse though when two weeks later Miya fucking Atsumu was calling him asking for his help to propose to his best friend. He was annoyed and irritated and his wife was coming home at two in the morning smelling different than when she had left. It was not a happy time for him, but he obliged telling him about how the beach would be the most perfect place, and to make sure that he does it at night.

He also added in that he should create a pathway lit by fairy lights because I would simply die over it, and how I didn’t like diamonds so make sure it wasn’t a cliche ass diamond.

And that’s how I found myself on the beach my heart had completely broke on, a week later in front of the man I love as he kneeled with a gorgeous jeweled ring in a black velvet box in his hands.

“Will you y/n y/l/n make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” The tears collecting in my eyes were the happiest tears I’d ever cried in my life as I knelt down and hugged him around his neck, “yes yes!! Yes! Of course I will tsumu”

We hadn’t seen bokuto in the distance watching us with tears in his eyes as he realized what he’d lost. As he wished he could go back in time and do it all over. Do things differently.

Maybe he would have let you keep his jacket on in that storage supply closet. Maybe he should have asked you to get boba instead of koyuki, maybe he should have realized sooner he was projecting onto koyuki because he was scared to love his best friend the way he knew you loved him.

So as he stared at the RSVP card in his hands with yours and Atsumu’s names on it in fancy handwriting. He wonders if this is how you felt when you had gotten his card with koyuki, he wonders if you had felt as lost and hopeless, and torn between wanting you to be happy and also wanting you to be with him instead. So as he swallowed the same lump you had swallowed two almost three years ago he realized that this was some kind of sick karma.

He felt partially responsible for the mess that this had become. You and him were never meant to be.