#like he did NOT know and I could see it all click into place on his face

[kisses4themissus]

Just A Fool | M.R X Reader

a/n: happy mothers day y'all...why not celebrate mother's day with some cuteness...and angst.. pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Single Mom!Reader wc: 5.2k (idk I blinked and it was at 5k)

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Chatter and clicking of plates and cups filled the restaurant.

“So?” Robby began, glancing over to Lacey then to you beside her. “How did you not know she’s mine?” You asked, confused how he had assumed she was your niece. “I wasn’t thinking, does anyone else know?” he asked, glancing over to see Lacey already staring at him.

“I thought everyone knew i was a mom, lovebug stop staring at him.” You said, patting lacey’s hand on the table.

“He looks like the guy from josh’s game!” Lacey realized after staring intently at robby. “If having a kid turns you away then– what did you say?” you turned to lacey who sat next to you smiling at robby.

“He looks like the army guy!” She laughed, before turning to robby, sitting up on her knees. “My mommy likes his face hair.” She told Robby, who chuckled and titled his head. “Army guy?” Robby questioned.

“She thinks you look like a call of duty character.” You explained, chuckling to yourself. 

With a shocked expression, Robby stared at Lacey for a bit before turning to you. “She plays call of duty?” he asked, shocked as the little girl began to nod proudly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Her older cousins play but they let her get on the mic to talk shit.” You explained, looking over to see Lacey searching for her restaurant crayon. 

Robby nodded at the explanation. “I’ve dated a single mom before, she had a son…his name is jake.” Robby spoke softly as he watched you recognize the name.

“The boy who lost his girlfriend at pittfest?” You questioned, earning a slow nod from robby.

“He told me that he had gone to a therapist and said that it didn’t help but when he went to the hospital, he ran into someone..” Robby hinted, making you nod.

“I know the grief he’s going through, told him I wished Adamson was here so I could give him a proper apology.” you told robby, running your hand over the back of lovebug’s head 

There was a beat of silence before Robby asked.

“Was the person you lost her dad?” Robby motioned for lovebug who was too busy following the little maze on her place setting to listen to the adults.

You shook your head. “I wish he was her dad, he would’ve been a great one.” You sighed, looking down at the little girl. Robby saw the look of sadness and backed off the topic. 

Feeling eyes on her, Lacey looked up and saw both you and robby staring at her. “What?” She asked, looking a bit upset. “Got a problem?” She asked, raising her crayon to point at robby and you.

Robby chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I haven’t said anything.” 

Lacey sighed and nodded before flipping her place mat to face Robby, handing him a yellow crayon. She tapped the paper and pointed to her little tic tac toe board where she had placed a big X in the middle.

Glancing over you took in a deep breath and looked at robby with a smile. “Good luck, she’s good at those..” You sighed, picking up your drink.

Robby had begun to play with Lacey, at first letting her win but slowly grew to be competitive as she managed to trap him each time before running her red crayon over a line of hidden X’s. He leaned across the table and looked at Lacey in a mix of shock and awe.

“How do you keep doing that?” He laughed as Lacey shrugged before turning to you.

“How much longer, I'm hungry!” She dragged out her letters, flopping over on your shoulder.

You laughed and rubbed her head. “I’m not sure lovebug, we’re not the only people in here eating.” You explained, motioning towards the other booths and tables.

She sighed and placed her hands under her chin as she sat back down. She looked out the window before sighing once more, a bit more dramatic.

Both you and robby exchanged a look.

“Why does your family all call her that?” Robby asked, earning a laugh from you.

“Before I found out I was pregnant, I claimed I had a really terrible stomach bug, that’s why I was always tired, vomiting, and grumpy. So when I took a test and it was positive my brothers teased me by saying I had a lovebug in my stomach.” You explained.

Robby chuckled and nodded. “She’s more of a bedbug though!” You teased, tickling her sides. 

“Stop it mommy!” She laughed, wiggling from you.

You let her go and smiled as she sighed and moved back to her part of the booth, leaning over the table, Lacey looked at robby.

“Dr. robby. what’s your favorite color?” She asked, tapping the table with her pink painted nails. Robby chuckled and pretended to think.

“Blue.” He answered, earning a nod from lovebug.

“I like blue, my favorite is green.” She smiled at the doctor. 

“How was rat practice?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink, watching as Lacey perked up.

“Great, me and the older kids said on opening night we should do WWE rats, and– and I'd be the flying rat off the couch!” She explained, her eyes bright as she said her plan. You and Robby laughed.

“And the boys agreed?” You asked, laughing into your cup.

“Yep, Jason said to do it!” She nodded, waiting for you to finish your drink before asking for a sip.

Robby’s heart warmed as he watched you and Lacey across from him.

Lacey happily drank the lemonade, streaks of the drink on the sides of her mouth, she sighed and wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“Here honey.” Robby handed the little girl his napkin, smiling warmly as she nodded and wiped her face and arm. “Thanks dr. robby!” She grinned.

“You just call me robby.” His heart grew as you laughed.

“But you’re a doctor!” Lovebug tried to reason. “Like when mommy isn’t nice, I call her dr. mommy.” She explained before taking gulps of more lemonade.

“What’s your favorite food lacey?” Robby asked, making the little girl stop her gulps, she let out a deep gasp before answering.

“I like cheesy noodles!” She explained, making Robby tilt his head in confusion. 

“Fettuccine alfredo.” You clarified, lacey nodding in agreement. She turned to your purse and searched through it. Leaving you and robby to your own conversation.

 - - - - - - - -

Leaving the restaurant, you attempted to carry lacey who looked around the street, her sugar rush going crazy.

Robby noticed the look on your face as Lacey chattered and attempted to climb around you and quickly stepped in.

“C’mon monkey.” He took lacey and held her up. You smiled at the two. Lacey settled down a bit as Robby placed her on the ground before giving her a piggyback ride.

“Sure, your old man back won’t give out?” You teased, earning a laugh from robby; the fluttering in your stomach resumed. “I can’t guarantee it.” he joked, following as you walked to your car down the street.

As you passed an ice cream parlor, you took a deep breath and waited.

“Ooh, can we stop!” Lacey squealed, making you chuckle. Robby glanced at you with a grin. 

“It is nice to have dessert after dinner.” Robby teased, making you sighed before nodding at the pair, who cheered and walked inside. As the tired employee greets you three, staring at the ice cream flavors you turned to ask what everyone was getting only to see a sight that’d melt your heart.

Robby had moved Lacey to be in his arms, nodding as she pointed out different flavors she had liked the sound of. You felt red as robby’s free hand fell to your lower back and guided you to the counter.

“We’ll take a waffle cone with, what did you say you wanted honey?” Robby asked, looking at Lacey who sat comfortable in his arms.

“Cotton candy!” She squealed, making robby chuckle and nod at the employee before turning to you.

“What do you want?” he asked, not noticing how flustered you were. “Um- can i get a brownie sundae please.” You ordered, your face feeling overwhelmingly warm.

The employee nodded and typed something on the register screen. “And one fudge sundae.” Robby finished, removing his hand from your back to get his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“Hold this honey.” Robby told Lacey who nodded and held his leather wallet as he got out a twenty. At the same time you had pulled up your digital wallet on your phone.

You and robby looked at each other, robby looked almost offended as you attempted to pay. “Put that away, I'm treating you girls.” He playfully scolded you, making you nervously chuckle, nodding as you turned your phone off, letting him hand over the bill.

“Could you get the change for me, Lacey's shoe is falling off.” He asked, not waiting for a response, walking over to a booth and sat lacey down before helping the little girl with her Mary Jane shoes.

“Cute family.” The employee smiled at you, handing the change over.

You stuttered to get the words out. “Thanks..” You smiled and quickly walked over to the two.

After you and robby had shared your sundaes with each other, you three continued the way to your car.

As you unlocked the back door and loaded Lacey in, she sighed and whined. 

“What’s wrong babybug?” You asked, running a hand on her leg, trying to sooth her. “I don’t want dr. robby to leave!” She sighed, looking at Robby with puppy eyes. “Please come home with me and mommy!” She pleaded. 

You sighed at her. “Eat your ice cream before it melts some more!” You pointed to the waffle cone, she followed your finger and quickly jumped up to start eating it.

Both you and robby chuckled, softly shutting the door. You turned to robby and looked around the parking lot to see a few cars.

“Which is yours?” You asked, finally looking at him who smiled at you. “I walked.” He shrugged, watching as your eyes widened. “What?!” You scoffed at him. “And I thought carrying lovebug would’ve taken your back out..” You lightly laughed.

He nodded and motioned for you to get in the car. 

“You can’t be serious, I'm not gonna drive off and leave you to walk back to your apartment michael..” You said, noticing the flushed look on robby’s face. “What did you call me?” He asked, a sly grin growing.

You recalled your words and froze at the slip up. “Robby…I meant robby!” You attempted to cover. He nodded and grinned. “Nice cover slick.” 

“Are you getting in the passenger or what?” You asked, turning to the driver’s seat.

Robby laughed and nodded, opening the driver's door for you before running to the passenger side.

 - - - - - - - -

Somehow lacey had managed to convince you and robby to go back to your own apartment, robby agreed on staying till lovebug had passed out.

Unlocking the door, you sighed and smiled as Lacey ran into the living room and threw herself at the couch. Robby stayed at the doorway and admired the apartment, hanging plants in every corner of the rooms, a small kitchen and living room, two doors on each side of the apartment; easily you could tell which was Lacey's the colored construction paper and stickers stuck on the white door.

You kicked off your shoes and walked to your kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a cold water bottle, you turned to robby and offered one. “No thanks, nice place.” He nodded and looked around.

“Thank you.” You smiled, walking around the kitchen and poured the water into a bottle with cartoon characters before going to the couch and handing Lacey the plastic cup, “drink it for me please!” You smiled as the little girl began to chug it down.

She hopped onto the sofa, and patted the spot next to her for robby to sit, you sat on the opposite side of lacey and picked up the remote.

“Movie or bluey?” You asked lovebug who paused before looking at robby then back at you. “Movie since dr. Robby hasn't seen bluey!” She sighed, motioning for you to pick a movie out. 

Robby chuckled as she slouched down, and watched as you scrolled through movies, waiting for someone to pick.

“OH ALADDIN!” Lacey popped up from the couch and pointed at the screen. You hovered over the disney movie and turned to see Robby watching with a smile as Lacey bounced around, waiting.

He glanced at you and nodded.

It had barely gotten half way through when Lacey's sugar high hit, causing her to crash on the carpet in front of the hung tv. “She looks like a bug that’s been squished.” Robby chuckled, leaning over as you got up and prepared yourself to pick her up.

“Oh that’s because she’s tired from her long day, normally she’s fighting off demons.” You joked, you picked up the half full water bottle and placed it on the table to the side of the sofa.

Robby got up from the couch and carefully scooped up lovebug and looked at you. 

Too busy staring at robby’s broad shoulders you hadn’t noticed him gently shushing Lacey as she whined in her sleep, gently patting her back. Snapping back, you led robby to her room and watched as robby sat her down gently, you walked over and settled her in.

Robby smiled at Lacey's room; fairy lights were strung up across the room’s ceiling, painted stars on the walls, he looked back and blushed; It had felt oddly right to be domestic with you.

With a forehead kiss, you backed away from Lacey's room, turning on her fairy lights before leaving the room with robby.

Robby quietly shut her room door, noticing as you walked to your kitchen to clean up. 

He sighed and walked over to you. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He smiled as you turned to him, two wine glasses in hand. “So soon?” You grinned, placing the glasses down on the island before turning to an upper cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine.

Robby chuckled and sighed, looking down. “Alright, you got me.” He shook his head and walked further into the kitchen as you popped open the bottle. 

Robby took it gently from your hands and began pouring some into the glasses.

You scoffed at the amount. “Give me that, stop trying to be cheap with it!” You both laughed, taking the bottle from his hands.

He watched as you poured more wine into the glasses.

“Trying to wine and dine me?” He asked, a sly grin on his face as you froze in place.

“...possibly..” You looked at him quickly before taking a long sip of the wine. “I mean, I'm not opposed.” he told you before taking a drink. Feeling flushed, you watched as he drank more. “If you think you can stay quiet then absolutely..” You shrugged, placing down your glass.

There was a beat before both you and robby leaned into each other and let your lips touch, it was exciting, your stomach curled in as he reached to cup your face, bring you deeper into the kiss.

You pulled away first, smiling as he followed your lips. Placing your hands on his chest you motioned to your bedroom. Robby smiled and picked you up, cupping your bottom as he carried you to the bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind you both.

 - - - - - - - -

Waking up to the smell of food was unusual for robby. He looked up from where he laid, all the memories of the night before rushed back, the late night chat with you.

He grinned and got up, putting on his clothes from the day before. Opening the door he saw you in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you made coffee and prepared something. Walking over he stopped at the kitchen island, smiled as you turned and grinned at him.

“Morning robby..” You said a bit shyly. He chuckled and walked over you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Good morning, sleep well?” He asked, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against him. “Be quiet!” You giggled.

Robby had begun to help you make sandwiches, he raised an eyebrow as he placed another into a zip lock bag. “What are these for?” He asked, slightly confused.

You chuckled as you finished another sandwich. “Every other weekend, I get lacey all dressed up and cutesy and we go have a picnic.” You explained.

“That’s sweet.” Robby smiled.

As you both talked about your date, Lacey's door swung open to show a tired and crazy haired lacey. Her pajamas all messed up, one pant leg was hoisted up by her knee while the other was on the ground, her shirt was now backwards.

She walked out and rubbed her eyes as she yawned, she dragged over a stepping stool and hopped onto a stool nearby to sit down.

Robby quietly chuckled at the sight while you smiled and walked over to your crazy little girl. “You ready for our picnic?” You asked, earning a nod from her.

“Is dr. Robby coming with?” She asked, quietly. You looked over your shoulder and shrugged. You leaned in and shrugged at you. “I think you should ask him.” Your words made her light up.

“Do you want to go with us dr. robby?” Lacey asked, sitting up looking at robby with her puppy dog eyes once more.

He sighed and nodded. “I’d love to!” He grinned. With an answer lacey nodded and motioned for you to help her down.

Lacey ran off to your bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. Leaving you and robby alone again.

Robby looked down at his clothes before nodding to himself, with a deep breath he walked over to you and leaned in. “I need to go back to my place, I need an outfit for the picnic with you lovely ladies.” He grinned as you got flustered and nodded, robby leaned in and kissed your cheek before leaving your apartment, out walked lacey, toothbrush in her mouth, her comb stuck in her hair as she looked around and shrugged at you. 

“Where’s dr. robby?” She mumbled, making you giggle before walking over and guided her back to the bathroom. “He went home to change, just like we need to change you into your dress.”

 - - - - - - - -

Robby had sent you a text about a park he knew that had good shade and a playground to take lacey to. You had agreed to meet there, packing up the picnic basket, a big enough blanket and getting lacey into the car; thankfully you had gotten there peacefully and quickly.

You carried the basket while Lacey insisted she carried the blanket, she walked through the grass, smiling as little kids ran past and towards the big playground. You had spotted robby across the park and walked with lacey over to him.

“Hi Michael!” Lacey yelled, making Robby turn and smile widely at you both.

You laughed and looked at lacey. “How do you know his name?” You asked, the little girl shrugged.

“After ice cream you called him michael.” She explained, running over as Robby knelt down to her height.

“Look at how pretty your dress is!” Robby smiled and spun her around, making her skirt fan out.

She laughed and sighed as he stopped and turned to you, his cheeks tinting pink.

You stood before him in a matching dress with lacey, a basket in hand and a warm smile on your face made his heart palpitate. “You look wonderful too!” He told you, taking the basket from your arm as lacey attempted to lay the blanket out.

“Thanks robby!” You smiled, helping lacey before sitting down on the blanket. Turning back to him, you chuckled as robby stood still, watching over you both.

“Come sit.” You patted the spot next you, robby nodded and with a groan sat down, placing the basket to the side. 

Lovebug began to buzz on her knees as kids ran past laughing, she turned to you.

Without having to ask you nodded at her and watched as she zoomed to the playground. “She could hardly wait.” Robby laughed, his arm going around your waist. You watched with a smile as Lacey joined a group of kids easily and began to play.

“I didn’t get to tell you but you look very nice as well.” You complimented, turning your head to robby who was looking over his shoulder. “I don’t look as good as you in that dress though.” He winked, making you both chuckle.

TIme had passed, you and robby had ended up cuddled together under the tree, watching as Lacey played with other kids, talking about anything and everything. 

You sighed and turned to look at robby, he had opened up about his struggle with adamson’s death then jake and his fallout. Your mouth frowned as you opened your mouth.

“Her dad’s name is nicholas callahan..” you started, earning a look from robby as you opened up. “He was my ballet partner, he and my ex boyfriend were best friends, everyone at the studio was surprised to find out that me and him had begun dating rather than me dating nick.” You looked down at your palms, not meeting robby’s gaze.

“When everything had happened, Nick comforted me...I was a fool, he took advantage  of my grief and convinced me to sleep with him; he said it’d take the weight off..” You sighed, feeling Robby's grip tightening on your waist in anger at Lacey's father.

“When I realized I was pregnant and went to tell him…he had left for Scotland, saying he didn’t want to be stuck in one place; I told my mom I wanted to quit ballet and the reason why.” You finally looked up to see Robby's eyes of remorse.

“That dick..” Robby muttered under his breath.

“He’s only seen lovebug a few times, she knows who he is, what he does for work; and how rarely she sees him.” You began to tear up. “My ex’s family knows about the whole thing, they adore lacey.” You chuckle, looking up to see robby looking distracted behind you. 

“She really likes you y’know.” You added, noticing the far off look in robby’s eyes but brushed it off.

He absentmindedly agreed, a pain struck your heart at his actions. 

You looked over to see lacey on the monkey bars, playing chicken with another little girl. As you turned back to robby, you saw him with his phone out, typing quickly.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, robby sighed and got up from the blanket. “I need to deal with something but you and Lacey have a good picnic.” He gave a peck on your lips before giving a quick smile before running to the other side of the park, leaving you alone on the gingham blanket.

Calling lacey over you had pulled out the sandwiches and ate as lacey talked your ear off about her new friends, part of your mind listened while the other half wondered why robby left urgently.

 - - - - - - - -

Going back to the hospital after spending the weekend with robby was lonely, no help with lacey’s questions of medical things she’d hear you both talking about.

As you scanned your badge into the ICU a mix of night shift and day shift all stood together around the nurses station, watching you with wide grins. You ignored them and placed your things down before going to log into a computer.

The night doctor stared at you before sighing and walking over to your desk. “So, how was your weekend?” She asked, smiling down at you.

You chuckled as you scrolled through files from the night before. “It was good, took lovebug to the park, got into a fight at my parents studio oh and made cookies!” You listed before turning to see the pile of workers.

“You forgot your date with dr. robby!” She giggled, making your face drop. 

“What? How did you know about that?” You asked, standing up, your face feeling warm. She quickly pulled out her phone and showed you a photo.

It was of you and robby at the coffee shop, both smiling at each other almost looking like a couple, it was clearly taken across the street.

“We met up for coffee…so what?” You asked bashfully, glancing back down at your new lockscreen. She laughed and leaned against the desks. “So what? You got your biggest hater to go on a date with you!” She laughed and began to clap at you.

You quickly stopped her. “Can we stop talking about my love life in front of all the patients, please?” You asked, gesturing to the open room doors.

She sighed and waved you off. “Most are intubated or probably want to hear something other than a depressing diagnosis.” She insisted; making you sigh.

“Fine, it was a date, he may have also stayed the weekend at my place..” You smirked shyly. 

A bunch of squeals and gasps came from the ICU workers. “Are you dating?” One of the respiratory nurses asked, grinning widely. You sighed and tilted your head to think. “Umm– I’m not too sure, he hasn’t officially said..” Your words made everyone stop and stare at you.

“And he stayed over?” The night doctor asked once more, making you nod.

Quickly the excitement disbursed. “I knew he was a player..” One of them sighed, shaking their head.

“What do you mean?” you asked, watching as the ICU workers began to pick off some post it notes off the fridge, groaning at each one.

“Do I have to tell her?” The nurse sighed, earning a nod from the others. She sighed and walked over to you and rubbed your arm as she sat you down.

“There’s rumors of dr. robby dating dr. Collins and for a while the rumor was dead but… lately all the other departments have been talking about them,” She sighed, your stomach tightened before releasing. 

“Apparently, one of the girls in CT saw them snuggled up together just this past weekend at the park by that one deli shop..” She finished, watching for your reaction.

The park…the park he had suggested for you, Lacey and him go for your picnic, the park where he kissed you at–.

You sighed and shook your head. 

“Their exes so what, maybe he needs closure..” You tried to excuse, your stomach began to sink as you thought about it some more. “I need to go get some fresh air..” You quickly got up from your chair and exited the ICU.

As you passed through the pitt, you were stopped by Langdon and McKay who both smiled widely at you. “Wanna place a bet?” Langdon asked, making you look at him confused.

“What kind?” You sighed, looking around for robby, but failed.

“Rumor has it, Robby's got a girlfriend, and I'd place a bet quickly if I were you..” Langdon smiled, you froze and shook your head. “No thanks, left my wallet upstairs anyways.., hey where’s robby?” You asked, turning to mckay who shrugged and glanced around the ED.

“No ones seen him since he got in.” Dana replied, sighing as she placed her hands on her hips.

You nodded and excused yourself to go to the ambulance bay, as you stepped outside by the bush you sighed and closed your eyes.

As the feeling of bile rising slowly washed away laughter caught your attention.

Opening your eyes you froze as you saw robby with Collins by her car; both laughing together. The bile quickly rose up as you saw the look of love in robby’s eyes.

Finally leaning over, preparing as the bile rose to your throat. Looking up for a final time to see robby rubbing over Collins stomach before cupping her face with a longing look.

The EMTs nearby jumped into action as you vomited into the bush. 

One held your hair back. “Are you alright?” She asked, you nodded and took a shakily breath before wiping your mouth. “Peachy..” You sighed, watching robby and collins off in their own world.

You stood up before walking back into the ED, rushing to the nearest bathroom. Thankfully being a single stall, you locked the door and bent over the sink.

Once again you had been taken as a fool; thinking a man would love you with no bad intention; was him being sweet to lacey just to get you to sleep with him faster.

Sighing, you glanced in the bathroom’s mirror and fixed the stray hairs as tears began to form. Silently crying as you perfected yourself.

Rolling back your shoulders you sighed and wiped away the tears. You stared at yourself before walking back out. As you exited the bathroom, Langdon laughed and shook you by your shoulders. “I won the bet, I knew him and Collins were together again!” He laughed.

You looked over to where the group of ED workers all cheered for the pair.

Among the workers, robby found your eyes, watching as they went from lovingly to sharp. He went to excuse himself but you had been faster as you slipped to the staff elevators with a blank expression.

 - - - - - - - -

The ICU had noticed the subtle shift of your personality; it was only seen on your worst days.

Everyone had quietly spoken about it. You had been snippy with any ED call, denying any bed space and allowing any OR patients the bed first. 

While on a cafeteria run, you walked through the ED, ignoring the gaze stuck on your back.

As you passed a curtained room, someone calling your name made you stop. You turned and opened the curtain and begged for your day to be over or to keel over and be bedridden.

“Nick..” You sighed, fixing the end of your jacket, feeling insecure around him; Nick the man your whole family hated, the man your heart still had affection for, Lacey's father.

He sighed at the sight of you.

“You still look pretty as always.” he smiled, admiring as you looked around the room. “What are you here for?” You asked, avoiding his gaze.

“Got trampled by some folks during a fire drill.” He explained, smirking at you. “Are you my doctor?” He smiled charmingly at you.

As you opened your mouth to speak the curtain was pulled back to show robby, collins and santos.

You saw robby and shut your mouth before turning to nick. “I got bumped upstairs, better patients and doctors.” You told him, using santos as a shield from robby walking closer to you. 

“These will be your doctors, dr. Collins, dr. santos and…dr. robinavitch.” You motioned to the three, seeing robby’s hurt expression from the corner of your eye.

“You still have my number right, let me see you and lovebug this weekend?” He asked, you turned and noticed robby’s furrowed brows at the patient.

“My apartment’s still the same.” You told Nick before walking to the elevators, leaving Robby to brew in his anger.

robby taglist!! @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @evans-dejong @lovebuggyies @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @equallyshaw @qardasngan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finke-blog @baileythepenguin

[justwinginglife]

The LADS Men React To You Saying You Can't Have S*X Because Of Mismatching Underwear

NSFW WARNING

Sylus

Sylus knows in an instant that you’re messing with him but he plays along, a sly smirk sitting pretty on his lips. “Oh NO- your underwear set doesn’t match? Whatever shall we do?” After clicking a few buttons on his phone, he stands to grab his car keys (one out of many).

“Wait! What are you doing, where are you going?” You ask, brows furrowing. The sudden change in the atmosphere has you feeling like, at any moment, you might get whiplash. One minute, he’s kissing up your neck, squeezing at your thighs, grinding his raging erection into your crotch, and the next, he’s throwing on his jacket, zipping his pants back up, and getting ready to leave. 

“You mean where are we going, kitten.” He speaks like it’s only obvious. 

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why are we leaving? I thought you just wanted to have sex not two seconds ago.”

“Of course, dearest, but we can’t have sex if you’re feeling embarrassed, now can we? So I thought I’d just buy the nearest lingerie store and we could go pick out whatever you like.” 

You choke on your spit. “You did WHAT?”

“I said I bought the store. So let’s go.” His eyes are daring you to continue with your little charade.

“Well I…I kinda wanted to stay home tonight.” You say weakly. You know you’re making a pathetic case for yourself, but he’s really not allowing you the wiggle room to be more convincing.

“Then allow me to have all of their stock delivered to the house. Unless… you think that the mismatching underwear is no longer an issue?” 

Oh, this son of a bitch. “You… you really don’t have to do all of this just for me.” You say with an awkward laugh. He knows you’re all out of moves and you’re just pivoting at this point. He knows and he has the audacity to be amused. 

“Oh, but I did, kitten. I wouldn’t want to overlook this very important issue. What’s important to you is important to me.”

“It’s, uh, not actually that important…” You confess meekly. 

“Say that again, sweetie?” He cranes his head to hear you better but you know damn well he can hear you just fine.

You glare at him. “I said it’s fine.”

He chuckles, sweet satisfaction clear on his face. “So then. Does this mean we can pick up where we left off?”

Caleb

You’ve been teasing Caleb all day. 

Dancing into his field of view with that low neckline of yours, wearing a dress that’s so short, it’s a wonder it’s covering anything at all. Touching him here and there, your fingers grazing his skin with a feather-light touch, trailing up his biceps, or down his back, before flitting away like you’d never been there in the first place.

So, of course, after hours of edging him towards an excruciating erection, his self control still intact (though holding on by mere splintered pieces), you decide to reward his good behavior. You straddle him on the couch, and slowly begin to slide your hips back and forth, dragging your clothed cunt across the admittedly-impressive bulge in his pants.

He swears he’s seeing heaven, when you finally allow his aching cock some much needed friction. He’s not proud to say that a little dry humping is all it takes to get him coming into his pants, but he’s sure you’ll continue to show him such endless bliss as the night goes on that he won’t even remember how many times he’s come, let alone that the first time was in his underwear. His head dips forward, steadying itself on your shoulder as he allows the wave of euphoria to wash over him. 

But the second the wave has come and gone, his arousal is already flaring back up in his gut, ready for round two, round ten, round however much you want. All he can think about is how perfect it’ll be when he finally sinks himself inside you, your wet heat enveloping him until all he can feel is you. He doesn’t even think that maybe you’re more devious than he gave you credit for.

After he’s come, you retreat almost immediately, pulling yourself off of him.

He whines pathetically and he fumbles as he attempts to grab hold of you.

“Baby, we can’t tonight.” You say, innocent as ever.

He tries to keep the disappointment from his voice, tries to restrain his very evident need for you, but desperation is quickly rising within him. “Why not?” 

You try to keep the smirk from your lips. “It’s just…I’m not…”

“You’re not what, love? Not feeling well? Not in the mood?” He hopes you don’t notice how badly he just wants you to spit it out. 

“I’m not wearing matching undergarments tonight. So we can’t.” And there it is. The goal you’ve had all night. The little trick you couldn’t wait to play on him. You’re thrilled to see how he’ll react.

His eyes darken in an instant. “Oh, you little minx. You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” His tone has dropped to a low growl. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” You say, feigned ignorance dripping from your lips. 

He gives a short laugh. “Sure you don’t. Well, if your mismatching underwear is the only issue-” He begins to kiss down your neck harshly, not bothering to take care where he leaves his marks, “-I’ve got just the solution.” His fingers find your dress’s zipper with expert precision and before you can even process that he’s taken ahold of it, the dress is already laying in a pile on the ground. Along with your bra and panties. 

“There. All better. Now your underwear matches- they’re both on the damn floor.” 

Rafayel

You’re starting to think that you lie just a little too well.

You had only meant to tease Rafayel when you had told him that the reason you couldn’t have sex tonight was because you were embarrassed that your bra didn’t match your underwear, but you didn’t expect him to take you completely seriously. What was even more unexpected was that he would go on to give you an entire art lecture in the process.

“Take Picasso, for instance. Brilliant artist. One of a kind. You know him, of course you do, everybody knows him. His work is asymmetrical, and yet you don’t see anybody telling him that his work isn’t beautiful because it doesn’t match.”

“Raf-”

“And take my work. My work isn’t always symmetrical either, but would you tell me that I’m anything less than a true genius? No, because I am. See?”

“That’s besides the point-“

“The point, cutie, is that you’re gorgeous no matter what you’re wearing. It’s okay that you didn’t plan a matching outfit today. Some of nature’s most stunning scenes are spontaneous. You wouldn’t complain to the sunset that its pink doesn’t match its orange, would you?”

“No, but I-”

“Exactly. So it doesn’t matter to me if you’re wearing mismatching underwear; you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still want you. Do you understand now, cutie?”

“Raf, baby, there’s nothing to understand, I was just jo-“

“Okay, if you don’t understand, let me put it in simpler terms for you. I’m hard for you regardless. That make sense now?”

When he puts it that bluntly, you really want to jump his bones. At this point, you figure you might as well. It’s useless to try and explain to him that you were only joking- not after he’s given you such a lengthy (though thoughtful) monologue. Though he’s a bit dense today, he’s still the same sweet Rafayel you fell in love with. So you think you’ll reward him for his kindness.

“You know what, baby? You made me feel so much better, thank you. I think, to show you just how much better I feel-” You strip yourself naked for him and his jaw drops, his eyes hungrily raking over your bare form, “-I’ll even let you come inside me tonight. What do you think?” You purr seductively.

You really didn’t have to try so hard to seduce him.

He’s already dropped his pants and begun stumbling towards you, rapidly hardening cock in hand.

Xavier

You’re in the middle of a very heated makeout session with Xavier when you decide to pick on him a little. You can tell where this is going, but you want to drag it out a little longer.

“Xav-” You whine breathlessly. “I think we should,” You return another one of his hungry kisses, “Probably stop for the night.” 

He pulls back to examine you. He can’t tell if you’re messing with him or if you’re genuinely not in the mood. Of course, if you want to stop, he’ll stop. He can just fuck his hand later; he’s not so selfish that he’d make you do something you don’t want to do. But just in case he did something wrong, he decides to ask. “Any particular reason you want to stop?”

“It’s just…” You bite your lip, hoping it makes you appear timid, when really you’re trying not to grin. “My bra and my underwear don’t match. I’m a little embarrassed to show you.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Oh, is that all? Feel free to change them then. I won’t look.” Before you can even respond that it’s a joke, he’s turned his back to you to give you your privacy.

You shake your head, smiling softly at his back. You didn’t expect him to be so sweet. You may as well strip naked while he’s allowing you the time; you had planned to have sex with him anyway. 

What the both of you don’t realize is that your bedroom’s full length mirror is angled just right so that he can still see you even when you’re behind him. He looks up only to get a perfect view of you undressing. When he realizes he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to, he starts to look away. But then he catches a glimpse of your mismatching underwear. Cherries decorate the soft material of your panties, while your bra is littered with little bows all the way around. Heat surges through his groin and he realizes that for some reason, this combination of mismatching underwear is doing something to him. 

You finish pulling your shirt off all the way and reach back to unhook your bra. “You know, I appreciate you being so understanding, my love, but I have to admit- I was completely kidding about not wanting to have sex just because my underwear didn’t match.” 

In an instant -you honestly don’t remember him even having the time to turn all the way around- he’s at your side, gripping your wrist tight and locking you in place. “That’s a relief. Now you don’t have to take off any more.”

You raise a curious brow at him. “What do you mean? Didn’t you want to have sex? I kinda have to take my underwear off for that.”

“No. You don’t.” His tone is low and thick with lust. “The undergarments stay on.” Before you know it, you’re pinned down to the bed.

You don’t know if it’s his teleportation ability or just his pure, unadulterated need, but he seems to be moving rather hastily today. You’ve barely even had time to blink before he’s slipping his cock under your bra, fucking your cleavage while it holds his cock in place. 

Something about you, the girl who always settles for function over fashion, wearing the cutsiest, girliest underwear he’s ever seen makes him harder than he’s ever been before and he’s not stopping until he’s staining this particular set in his cum. 

Zayne

“So we don’t strip naked then. That doesn’t mean I can’t still make you feel good.”

When you originally decided to play this joke on Zayne, telling him that you were feeling just a little too shy today to reveal to him your mismatching underwear, you thought he would see right through your little act. This is the man who has known you almost your entire life, after all.

But after you’d come so many times IN YOUR GODDAMN UNDERWEAR ALONE, all because he had insisted on tending to your needs even with your clothes on, after your clenching walls began to feel rather bruised, your clit increasingly more and more overstimulated with each passing second, as he fingered you through the (soaked) fabric of your clothes yet again, you were starting to regret this decision to mess with him. 

You tried to confess so many times, to tell him you’d been lying, to beg him for his cock instead, but it was almost like he knew what you were trying to say, because he’d kiss you so deeply until you were so dizzy from lack of breath that you forgot what you wanted to say, and then he’d dry hump you until you forgot how to even breathe in the first place. 

When you finally stutter out a pathetic, “P-please Z-Zayne…can’t t-take it anymore. Wanna f-fuck you,” Your hips thrusting desperately against the unsatisfying, thin air, he grins.

In that moment, you realize he’s known you’ve been lying all along. 

He leans over to you and you think he might kiss you. That, or scold you. But either result turns you on, so you hold your breath, waiting for him to respond.

He merely peers down your shirt before tugging your pants down slightly to confirm something. “So your underwear does, in fact, match. What an interesting development. Now then…how should I punish you for such dishonest behavior?”

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @tbaluver @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi

[screaminglygay]

Welcome back

pairing: past!natasha romanoff x reader, wanda maximoff x reader

summary: you're back at the avengers compound - finally building a life of peace with wanda. but the past doesn't rest easily. natasha's bitterness rises the moment she sees you, and the tension finally boils over in a brutal confrontation. as old wounds reopen, wanda begins to spiral in her own doubts, just as you’re both finding happiness together.

warnings: angst!, emotional conflict, swearing, harsh words, jealousy, overthinking, unresolved tension, natasha being bitter, light smut, teasing, Pietro walking in on you, minor miscommunication, hurt feelings

word count: 11.8k

an: this was such a fun request to write, honestly had the best time diving into all the angst and messy emotions in this part:D thank you so much for all the love and support for this mini-series!<3

part one I part two I part three

You sat on your couch, your phone in your hand, staring at Fury’s contact like it might explode. It had been a while since you’d spoken to him like this… actually wanting something instead of turning him down.

But damn it, Wanda had gotten into your head. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button. Fury picked up on the second ring.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You leaned back, exhaling, "I want to come back. But only as a trainer. Just the agents. No more, no less. And I want a normal schedule."

Silence.

Then, in that signature deadpan tone, Fury said, "Wouldn’t you like a Porsche with that too?"

You rolled your eyes, "I’m serious."

"So am I." Another pause. "See you at the usual time on Monday. And say thanks to Maximoff for me."

Your brows furrowed, "why?"

"For making up your mind." That made you sit up straight. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice before he hung up. You stared at your phone, everything clicking into place.

That sneaky little-

A knock at your door made you snap your head up. Right on time. When you swung the door open, Wanda stood there, looking as soft and lovely as ever, but you wasted no time.

"I know what you did," you said, crossing your arms. "Nice work."

She blinked, "what?"

"Sneaky little thing," you squinted at her.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, tilting her head. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

You stepped closer, leaning against the doorframe. "You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you? Slowly getting in my head, dropping hints, making sure I’d call Fury on my own."

Wanda batted her lashes, "that’s absurd. I would never manipulate you like that."

You scoffed, "uh-huh. Right."

She grinned, stepping inside and letting her fingers trace up your arms. "I prefer the term… persuasive."

You shivered slightly at her touch, but you kept your composure. "Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?"

"Mm-hmm." She leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. "And are you mad about it?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "No, because it worked. I called Fury."

Wanda’s eyes lit up, and a proud smile spread across her face, "I knew you would."

You let out a soft laugh against her lips, "of course."

…

The morning felt heavier than it should have. You were sitting at the small dining table, mindlessly swirling your spoon in your cereal, staring at nothing in particular. Wanda, sitting across from you, noticed immediately.

"Alright," she said, setting down her coffee. "What’s up?"

You blinked out of your daze, "what?"

"You’re thinking way too loud." She tilted her head, amused. "First-day jitters?"

You exhaled, rubbing the back of your neck. "Now that I really think about it… isn’t it weird to just… go back?"

Wanda arched a brow. "Are you asking because of work? Or because of Natasha?"

Your lips parted, then closed again. "No… work of course not-" You hesitated. "Or… maybe both. I don’t know." You sighed, setting your spoon down. "It’s just… she’s there. It’s her place. And I’m just gonna waltz in like nothing happened?"

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours. "I get it," she said softly. "But she’s not the only one there, and besides… Natasha mostly does Avengers missions now. She trains sometimes, sure, but Steve and Maria handle most of it. She’s barely in the training areas anymore."

That made you pause, "oh, okay."

Some of the weight in your chest lightened, but not all of it. Because now that your brain had gone down that road, something else came to mind.

Maria Hill. She was still there too.

You hadn’t really thought about her in a while, but the realization hit you now. Unlike with Natasha, there wasn’t anger, just… weird emotions. Undefined, but definitely there.

Wanda watched your face carefully, reading you like a book. "You just thought of someone else, didn’t you?"

You sighed, "Maria."

Wanda nodded, like she expected that. "You don’t have to interact with her if you don’t want to." And once again, she didn´t asked much, she just understood.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. "I know. It’s just… strange. Like stepping back into a past life I wasn’t sure I’d ever return to."

Wanda squeezed your hand. "It’s not a past life. It’s just another part of your story. And you’re walking in on your terms now."

You looked at her, taking in the warmth in her gaze. The unwavering belief in you.

It helped.

You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders. "Yeah. My terms."

Wanda grinned, "exactly." Then she smirked, nudging your foot under the table. "And if you ever get too in your head about it… just remember that you’re probably going to out-train half of them."

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head, "oh, yeah."

...

As you walked alongside Wanda toward the training center, your steps felt steady, but there was still that lingering unease. You glanced over at Wanda, who kept her pace casual, her eyes scanning the surroundings as if she were used to this space in a way that made you both feel comfortable and out of place all at once.

"So," Wanda broke the silence, her voice light but teasing, "what´s the first move?"

You hummed, "I´ll probably just test the waters, make sure where everyone stands, you know?"

Wanda smiled softly, nudging your shoulder with hers. "You’ll do fine. You’ve trained worse, right?"

You smirked, remembering the sheer chaos of trying to teach people who were barely able to say please and thank you. "Definitely. But this feels different. It’s been a while."

She smiled at you, but it softened into something more understanding. "Just remember why you’re here."

You nodded as you reached the entrance to the training area. The doors slid open, and you stopped just inside, feeling the buzz of energy from the group of agents waiting for you. They were ready, dressed in full tactical gear, standing in neat lines, some eyes bright with anticipation, others with a little more uncertainty.

"Alright," Wanda said, giving you a quick hug. "I’ll leave you to it. Do your thing. You’ve got this."

"Thanks, Wan," you said, returning her hug before stepping into the training space fully. She gave you a quick wave before walking away to attend to her own duties, leaving you standing in front of twenty very eager agents.

But now you realized… that you actually don´t know why are you here. But fake it till you make it, right? Once again, starting with a good tactic.

"Alright, listen up!" you called, your voice carrying easily across the room. "For those of you who don’t know me, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I’m your main trainer from now on. I’ll be pushing you all to your limits, and I expect the same in return. There will be no slacking off, no cutting corners. I’ve seen it all, and I’ll make sure you all earn every skill you walk out of here with."

You paused for a moment, watching their faces. There was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. You could see it, feel it… the anticipation was almost palpable.

"Now, today isn’t about perfection. It’s about seeing where you all stand." You motioned to the space around you. "We’re going to start with some basic drills to test your skill level and determine what you can do and what needs improvement. This isn’t a competition, it’s a learning experience. I need you all to give it your best, and I’ll be here to guide you."

Without further explanation, you had them start with a basic hand-to-hand combat drill, followed by agility and endurance exercises. As you moved from agent to agent, it quickly became clear that while there were a few standouts, most of them were still rough around the edges. Some couldn’t hold their stance correctly, others lacked the proper timing, and a couple couldn’t land a clean hit to save their lives.

You found yourself mentally noting where each one needed work, but the surprise was in how eager they all were. They were soaking in every bit of feedback, pushing themselves as hard as they could. It was refreshing.

As the last round of drills ended, you were about to offer some closing advice when you heard the familiar footsteps approaching. "Looks like you haven’t lost your touch," a voice drawled from behind you.

You turned around, your eyes narrowing in recognition. "Fury," you said, crossing your arms. "I should have known."

"You’re doing great," Fury said, his tone casual, though there was a hint of pride underneath. "I knew you’d pull this off."

You raised an eyebrow, your hands resting on your hips. "You’ve been watching me again, haven’t you?"

Fury didn’t miss a beat. "Needed to make sure you’d do your job right." He paused, glancing at the group of agents still catching their breath. "And it seems like you’ve done exactly that."

You snorted, shaking your head, "some things never change."

Fury chuckled, his lips pulling into a tight smile. "Hm. Just making sure the job gets done. You’ll always be the best at what you do."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Well, it’s nice to know you still have faith in me."

"Faith?" Fury raised an eyebrow. "I don’t need faith. I just need results." He gave you a meaningful glance. "And you always deliver. Just no more relationship issues, okay?"

You nodded, "yes sir," feeling that familiar mix of nerves and determination build in your chest. It wasn’t just about training these agents - it was about proving to yourself.

After you cleaned up, making sure the mats were properly set, the equipment put away, and everything was in order for the next session. It felt strangely familiar, like a routine you hadn’t even realized you missed. By the time you left the training center, the halls were quieter, the rush of the day settling into something calmer.

You took a quick shower in the locker rooms, letting the warm water ease the tension in your muscles. It wasn’t until you were making your way toward the main hall that you ran into Natasha. She looked just as surprised to see you as you were to run into her. She stopped mid-step, her green eyes scanning you, like she was trying to make sure you were really standing there.

"So," she finally said, crossing her arms, her voice casual, but you could hear the underlying curiosity. "You’re the new trainer, huh?"

You hesitated just slightly before nodding, "yeah…"

Natasha tilted her head, glancing over you like she was taking in the fact that you were really back. "What did you put them through today?"

"Basic drills, endurance, hand-to-hand. Just getting a feel for what they can do."

She nodded, "and?"

"They’ve got potential," you admitted. "But they’re nowhere near ready for fieldwork."

"Sounds about right," Natasha smirked at that.

There was a moment of silence between you, comfortable, but with something beneath it. Something unspoken. You shifted slightly, feeling the weight of it settle in.

"Listen, Nat," you said, glancing at her, "if this is weird for you… I can, you know-"

Natasha cut you off before you could finish. "Don’t worry about me." Her voice was steady, maybe too steady. "You said it yourself, it’s been some time, so…" she shrugged, like it was no big deal. But the way she averted her gaze for just a second, the way her fingers twitched slightly against her arm… it was a lie.

You pressed your lips together, not sure what to say to that. There was a weird awkwardness between you now, lingering in the air. It was strange - once, things between you and Natasha had been easy, natural. Now, it felt like walking on unsteady ground, both of you pretending you weren’t paying attention to the cracks beneath your feet.

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. "I uh- I should go. You know, back to the good old paperwork," you joked, forcing a small grin.

Natasha gave you a tight-lipped smile in return. "Have fun with that."

You nodded, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before turning and walking away. Even as you left, you could feel Natasha’s gaze lingering on you, the weight of something left unsaid pressing against your back.

Wanda found you not long after your awkward run-in with Natasha, leaning against the wall outside the training center, looking at your phone like you were trying to distract yourself. She didn’t say anything at first, just reached out, took your wrist, and started pulling you along with her. "Come on," she said, a knowing little smile on her lips. "You’re having lunch with me today."

You let out a soft chuckle but didn’t resist, letting Wanda lead you through the hallways of the compound. "Where are we going?" you asked.

"The Avengers’ living room," Wanda said simply, glancing at you with a smirk. "I’m making lunch, and you’re helping."

"Oh, am I?" You raised a brow.

"Yes," she said it like it was a fact of the universe.

By the time you reached the living space, the scent of spices and something warm was already filling the air. It was cozy in here, unlike the rest of the sleek, professional compound.

Wanda pulled you toward the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves before looking at you expectantly. "So," she started as she grabbed some ingredients from the counter, "how was your first day?"

You exhaled, leaning against the counter. "It was… good. Really good, actually." You couldn’t hide the way your face lit up. "The agents are eager to learn, which is nice. And even though I was just testing everything, I already have so many ideas on how to make the training better."

Wanda watched you with a small, fond smile as you rambled, hands animated as you explained how you set up drills and how the rookies needed to work on their stance. She could see it, you were shining, excitement radiating off you in a way that made her chest warm.

"I haven’t seen you this happy about something in a while," she murmured, reaching for the cutting board.

You paused for a second, processing her words. Then you gave a small nod. "Yeah… I think I really like it here, I mean it´s a first day, but I have really good feeling."

Wanda’s smile grew as she turned to you, placing a knife in your hand. "Good. Now help me chop these, since you’re so full of energy."

You laughed, shaking your head but complying. The two of you worked side by side, moving around the kitchen with ease. Wanda gave you instructions, but half the time, she was just teasing you, nudging you with her hip when you reached for the same thing, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear when it got in your face.

At one point, you handed her a spoon to stir the pot, and she hummed in satisfaction. "You know," she said, stirring slowly, "I think I should be given more credit."

You raised a brow, "for what?"

"For being very persuasive," she smirked. "I get what I want, after all."

You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. "Are you talking about getting me to come back here?"

She hummed, tilting her head, "maybe."

You let out a laugh, "well, you sneaky little thing, you have all the credit."

Wanda just grinned, leaning a little closer, her voice dropping into something softer, "hmm, I´ll take all the credit later, don´t worry."

You swallowed, heart skipping a little at the way she was looking at you. Lord help you. "Just focus on cooking, Maximoff," you muttered, nudging her away with your hip.

"I can multitask," she kissed your cheek quickly.

You smirked, setting the knife down and turning to Wanda with an amused look. "Oh, can you, hm?" you murmured, leaning in just a little, close enough that your breath ghosted against her skin.

Wanda blinked, her teasing smirk faltering for just a second before she composed herself. "Mhm," she hummed, tilting her chin slightly, feigning confidence. "I always do."

You let your fingers brush against her wrist as you leaned in a fraction closer, "is that so?"

Wanda swallowed, her eyes flickering to your lips before she smirked. And just when you thought you had the upper hand, she moved, her hands settling on your waist as she turned the tables. "You think you can win this game?" she murmured, voice low.

Your breath hitched, your plan backfiring spectacularly. "I-"

"You're cute when you try," Wanda whispered before pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the side of your neck.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the warmth of her lips linger. "Wanda-"

"Hm?" She hummed innocently, her lips brushing against your skin again, sending a shiver down your spine.

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, "I don't need to read your mind to know what you want, Wan."

Wanda smirked against your neck. "Then what am I thinking right now? What do I need?" she murmured, pressing another teasing kiss just below your jaw.

Your fingers tightened around the counter as you tried to gather your thoughts. "You're thinking… that if you keep this up, I'm going to burn our lunch."

Wanda pulled back just enough to look at you, her grin mischievous. "Oh, that would be tragic."

"Yeah, tragic," you deadpanned, though your pulse was still racing.

She chuckled before finally stepping back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. But the knowing look in her eyes told you she was more than pleased with herself. "Alright, alright," she said, grabbing the spoon again. "Let’s focus. Lunch first. I wouldn’t want to distract you too much."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, grabbing a towel and snapping it lightly at her hip. "Too late for that."

Wanda just giggled, completely unbothered, as she continued stirring the pot. "Maybe you should work on your focus, then," she teased.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. Flirty Wanda was dangerous, but you had to admit, you didn’t mind one bit. It´s the actual opposite.

As you finished plating the food, Wanda grinned, running a finger along the edge of the counter before turning to you with a smirk. "You listened so well," she murmured, her voice dropping into something softer, something very dangerous. She took a step closer, her hands pressing against the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you in. "Now look what we made. I´m so proud of us, malysh."

Your breath hitched as you looked up at her. She was too close. Her lips, her eyes, the teasing glint in them, god it was all too much. "Wanda-"

But before you could say anything else, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. You melted instantly, your hands gripping the counter behind you as her lips moved against yours, soft and warm, making your heart hammer against your ribs.

Her fingers brushed against your waist, and you could feel her smirk against your lips as she deepened the kiss, her body pressing against yours just enough to make your head spin-

"Ah, well, I was going to ask what’s for lunch, but I see you’re already having (Y/N)."

You practically jumped out of your skin, tearing away from Wanda with wide eyes.

"Pietro!" Wanda groaned, her forehead dropping against your shoulder as she shook with laughter.

You, on the other hand, felt your entire body heat up. "I- we were just-" You cleared your throat, your brain scrambling for something - anything - to say. "We have, um… a gou-lash?"

Pietro arched an eyebrow, looking vaguely unimpressed. "A gou-lash?" he repeated, clearly biting back laughter at the way you pronounced it.

Wanda, to her credit, just nodded, her lips twitching as she leaned against the counter with a smug smirk. "Yes. A delicious goulash."

You shot her a glare, but it was weak at best.

Pietro hummed, pretending to consider it. "Ah, great," he said before grabbing some plates and heading to the table. "Steve and Bucky are coming in a minute. Clint and Bruce, too. The rest are busy with work."

You exhaled, trying to regain your composure as you picked up a dish. Wanda, however, was still grinning like she won something.

"Don’t," you whispered as you passed by her.

"Don’t what?" she asked, voice all faux innocence.

You narrowed your eyes. "Just… don’t."

She only laughed, stealing a quick peck on your cheek before sauntering off to help Pietro with the table.

Lord have mercy.

Lunch was lively, the sound of utensils clinking against plates mingling with casual conversation. Your goulash was a success, despite Pietro’s teasing.

As you took another bite, Steve turned to you with an easy smile. "You know, I was thinking, I’d love to work with you on training the agents. I handle a lot of the physical assessments, but having someone like you around? It would make a real difference."

Your eyes widened slightly in excitement, setting your fork down. "That would be amazing! I already have so many ideas… drills, scenarios, real-world application stuff. Honestly, I’d love to collaborate with you on it."

Steve nodded approvingly. "That’s exactly what we need, someone who knows how the field works, not just textbook tactics."

Bucky, who had been quietly eating next to him, suddenly chimed in. "You should also focus on instinct training. A lot of rookies freeze up in real combat. They overthink instead of reacting."

You turned to him, eyes lighting up, "oh wow, yeah, that’s amazing, James-"

The entire table burst into laughter, and you blinked, confused for a moment before Bucky sighed, shaking his head, "Bucky is fine."

A smirk pulled at your lips. "Well, Bucky," you corrected with emphasis, "I think it would be nice to have a Sergeant show the recruits some moves. I mean, who better to train them than someone with actual battlefield experience?"

Steve chuckled, "I second that."

Bucky huffed, but you caught the amused glint in his eye. "Fine, but don’t expect me to give motivational speeches like Rogers."

"Damn, I was looking forward to those." You grinned, taking another bite of your food.

Across the table, Wanda was watching you, her expression soft and proud. She could see how seamlessly you were fitting in, how the team was warming up to you, and it made her happy, really happy.

She reached under the table, giving your knee a small squeeze. When you glanced at her, she simply smiled, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

You weren’t just back, you were glowing.

You hummed softly to yourself as you gathered the empty plates, stacking them with ease before moving toward the sink. The others had already started to clear out, leaving you to tidy up without much thought. And even though Tony has like dishwasher 3000, that even sings you a song, you like to just wash it in your hands, since it´s few plates.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve and Wanda lingered at the table, their voices hushed. Steve glanced at you briefly before turning back to Wanda. "Good call," he said simply.

Wanda tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Steve gave her a knowing look, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Bringing her back. I like seeing agent work like this."

Wanda looked down for a moment, fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. Then, softly, she admitted, "It’s nice, you know? To see her be happy… truly happy."

Steve nodded, but his expression held something, that Wanda couldn’t quite place until he spoke again. "I don’t think you really believe that," he said.

She frowned slightly, "what do you mean?"

"She’s not happy because she’s back at work," Steve said, keeping his voice low but firm. "She’s happy because of you, Wanda. It’s not that hard to see."

Wanda blinked, lips parting slightly, as if to refute it, but the words never came.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re the main reason she’s happy. I might not know her as well as you do, but even I can tell. And it´s funny that someone with the ability to read someone´s mind, can´t see that."

Wanda let out a small breath, her gaze drifting to you as you washed the dishes, completely unaware of their conversation. There was a softness in her eyes, the kind that only came when looking at something precious.

Steve gave Wanda one last knowing smile before pushing his chair back. "Well, I’ll leave you to it," he said, standing up. "Have a good rest of your day, Wanda."

Wanda nodded, still lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to reality. "You too, Steve."

"See you later. Can’t wait for the training!" Steve turned to you as he made his way toward the door.

You looked up from the sink, smiling, "me too, Steve!"

As Steve disappeared down the hall, Wanda finally made her way over to you, her expression practically glowing with warmth. You raised an eyebrow at the soft, dreamy look on her face.

"Are you this satisfied with lunch?" you teased, drying your hands on a towel.

Wanda let out a small laugh, tilting her head, "yeah, very," she said, voice dripping with sweetness, the kind that made your stomach flutter.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "so you’re looking at me like that because of lunch?"

Wanda just smirked, reaching out to take your hand in hers, "mhm."

Something told you that wasn’t the full truth, but you weren’t complaining if it meant that she will look at you like that. Wanda’s fingers traced lazy circles on the back of your hand as the two of you lingered in the kitchen, neither in a rush to move. Simple moment, just standing close, the warmth of each other filling the small space, but it felt perfect.

You watched her, the way her lips curled into that soft, knowing smile, the way her eyes held nothing but affection. The words were out before you even had the chance to overthink them, "I love you."

Wanda blinked, her breath hitching slightly as her eyes widened in surprise. But the shock melted almost instantly into something even warmer, even softer. She squeezed your hand, "I love you too."

The smile that took over your face was unstoppable, and before you could say anything else, Wanda leaned in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed or teasing, just right, like she wanted you to feel the weight of her words.

But of course, the moment couldn’t last forever.

The door creaked open, and a familiar voice broke through the quiet. "Oh- sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here."

You and Wanda pulled apart just in time to see Natasha standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

For a second, silence settled over the room, and the air felt a little heavier than before. Not tense, not necessarily uncomfortable, just… awkward.

Wanda shook her head, "It´s all okay."

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly, "It´s all good."

Natasha nodded once, stepping in just far enough to lean against the counter. "alright." A pause, "you two made lunch?"

"Yeah," Wanda answered smoothly, her usual ease returning in an instant. "There’s still some left if you’re hungry."

Natasha glanced at the covered dishes before shaking her head. "Nah, I’ll grab something later." Her eyes flicked toward you for just a second before she pushed off the counter. "I should- yeah. I’ll see you both around."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind nothing but a faint trace of something unspoken. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Wanda gave your hand another squeeze, grounding you.

"She’s even more awkward now," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

Wanda chuckled softly beside you, reaching out to trace her fingers lightly over your wrist, "that does make sense."

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow, "how so?"

"She’s figuring things out, just like you are," Wanda said simply, tilting her head slightly.

You exhaled, letting her words sink in. It was true, Natasha wasn’t the type to just say what was on her mind, not when it came to things like this. And honestly? Maybe neither were you.

Wanda nudged you playfully, "just don’t overthink it." You scoffed, shaking your head. "You both overthink things," she added with a teasing smirk, and you couldn’t even argue with that.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, nudging her back lightly. "I’ll try."

Wanda grinned, "good."

…

The next few weeks passed in a blur of training sessions, late-night talks with Wanda, and getting closer to the rest of the team. It was everything you hadn’t realized you needed - purpose, excitement, and the feeling of belonging.

Training the recruits was honestly fun. Working with Steve was even better than you’d expected, his experience blending well with your own teaching style. Bucky got involved too, his dry humor keeping the sessions light even when he was drilling technique into the agents. The rookies liked you a lot, and Fury? Though he’d never say it outright to others, but he was clearly proud of work.

And then there was Wanda.

She made everything even better. Whether it was sneaking kisses between sessions, teasing you mercilessly when you got competitive during sparring, or just the quiet nights spent in her room at the compound, curled up together after long days. You still mostly stayed at your apartment, but Wanda had a way of making both places feel like home.

Everything felt right.

Except for one thing.

Natasha.

As time went on, she seemed to be pulling away. It wasn’t anything obvious, she was still polite, still professional, still Natasha, but there was distance where there hadn’t been before. Conversations were shorter. Eye contact was rare. She never lingered after team meals or meetings when you were around.

You tried not to think too much about it. Like Wanda had said… you weren’t going to overthink it. So you tried as much as you could. That was until one time… you had asked Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Natasha to join in, giving the recruits a taste of what it was like to fight against someone better, someone with experience, someone who could expose their weaknesses in seconds.

You had started with Bucky and Natasha, analyzing their tactics, breaking down their footwork and strategies for the agents to learn from. It was controlled, efficient, a perfect example of two highly skilled fighters who knew each other well.

Then it was Steve and Wanda. Watching her use her powers seamlessly in hand-to-hand combat was mesmerizing, and Steve handled it with practiced ease, adapting to her movements, showing the recruits how to counter abilities even when they were at a disadvantage.

And then… Wanda and Natasha.

At first, it was just another sparring match. Quick, sharp movements, testing each other’s defenses, both of them perfectly in control.

Until it wasn’t.

The intensity shifted.

Natasha’s strikes became sharper, her dodges tighter, her attacks more relentless. She wasn’t holding back anymore. Wanda adjusted, countering as best as she could, but Natasha was pressing her, forcing her to react rather than control the fight.

The recruits were quiet, watching with wide eyes.

You felt it before you fully registered it… something was off. Before you could intervene, Steve did. "All right, I think that’s enough," he said, stepping between them before it could escalate further. He kept his tone light, but there was an edge of authority in it. "Good demonstration. That’ll give the recruits something to think about."

You were already moving toward Wanda. "You okay?” you asked softly, searching her face for any signs of real harm.

She blinked, still processing, before nodding, "yeah, I’m fine. Just… didn´t expect that." She laughed it off.

Meanwhile, Natasha grabbed her things and left without another word. Steve hesitated only for a second before going after her. You turned back to Wanda, but Bucky was already there, offering her a water bottle. He gave you a nod, like he had things under control, so you let out a quiet breath and stepped back. You couldn’t focus on anything else. You needed to know what the hell that had been about.

So with soft kiss to Wanda’s forehead before stepping away. "I’ll be right back,” you murmured, squeezing her hand before turning on your heel and walking out of the training center.

No, rushing out.

Your heart was pounding, frustration buzzing beneath your skin as you searched for Natasha. It didn’t take long. You found her in one of the hallways, mid-argument with Steve. His arms were crossed, jaw set tight as Natasha spoke in sharp, clipped words, "I don’t care" she snapped. "It’s not my problem."

Steve exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep his patience. "You don’t have to make it one, but you could at least-"

The moment you stepped into view, Steve’s eyes flickered to yours. He sighed, shaking his head, before turning to Natasha, "figure it out," he muttered, then walked away, leaving the two of you alone.

Silence. Then, you broke it. "What the hell is your problem?!"

Natasha barely looked at you, "I don’t have one."

"Bullshit!"

She exhaled, long and slow, like she was forcing herself to stay calm, "just drop it."

"No. No, I won’t drop it, Natasha, because I am so sick of this" your voice wavered with anger, with something deeper, something raw.

"For weeks, you’ve been shutting me out, getting more and more distant, and I let it go. I listened when Wanda told me not to overthink it. But this? That wasn’t just a sparring match back there, and you know it."

Natasha scoffed, finally looking at you, but her expression was unreadable. Cold. "Why do you even care?"

You felt your stomach drop.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you refused to back down, "are you serious?"

She didn’t answer.

Your chest tightened. "I don’t know what your problem is, Natasha, but I’m done with this. If you have something to say, say it. Be an adult for god’s sake and just-"

"You moved on fast, didn’t you?"

Your words died in your throat. Natasha’s voice was sharp, cutting straight through you, but her expression stayed blank. A bitter laugh escaped your lips, "you’re kidding me."

She didn’t flinch.

"That’s what this is about?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "You think- what? That I wasn’t allowed to move on? That I was supposed to just sit around and wait for you, for you to finally stop playing around and realize that I care about you and not your status, not your past or where you came from- but you!"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her silence speaking volumes.

"I waited for you, Natasha,” you seethed. "I waited until I realized that you cared more about people who flirted with you over your own girlfriend!"

Her green eyes flickered, but the mask stayed up, "looks like you’re fine now."

You let out a humorless chuckle, voice shaking, "you know what? Screw you. I am happy, Natasha. Truly happy. So why don’t you stick your head out of your ass and actually see that?"

Natasha’s eyes darkened, "for how long?"

You narrowed your eyes, "what?"

"How long until she picks someone else?" Natasha’s voice was calm, but her words dripped with venom, "because she will."

Your breath hitched.

"Don’t-" you warned, your fists clenching at your sides.

"She will," Natasha continued, stepping closer. "She’ll realize there’s someone better out there, someone less complicated, someone who doesn’t-"

"Don’t bring your insecurities into someone else," you snapped, cutting her off.

Natasha’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, "it’s the truth."

You shook your head, blinking back the sting in your eyes, "you don’t mean that."

Her gaze didn’t waver. "She’ll get sick of you."

You sucked in a breath.

"You’re so needy," Natasha continued, her voice colder than you’d ever heard it. "You need so much, and one day, she’s going to need a break from you."

The words slammed into your chest like a hammer, knocking the air out of you.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you stared at her, your throat burning. "Well, at least I care," you shot back. "At least I’m not some cold, empty killer who doesn’t give a shit about anyone."

Silence.

It was deafening.

You could hear both of your breaths, shaky and uneven. And then, for the first time in a long time, Natasha’s mask cracked. Her eyes glistened, and before she could stop it, a single tear slipped down her cheek. You parted your lips, but no words came out.

She turned away.

And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you standing there, breathless, heart pounding and crying. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your shirt, taking a deep breath before stepping into the gym. Your body ached from the tension still coursing through you, but you tried to shake it off as you walked inside. Wanda was there, quietly cleaning up the mats from training. She hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in her own thoughts, until she did.

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing slightly as she took you in. You knew she could hear it… your thoughts, loud and messy, tangled with guilt and frustration. "(Y/N)?" she asked softly, setting down the cloth she was holding.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "It’s nothing, I-"

"Don’t do that," Wanda interrupted, stepping closer, "I can feel it. What happened?"

Your chest tightened. You ran a hand down your face before you finally let out a heavy breath. "I found Natasha," you admitted. "We-" You hesitated, pressing your lips together before forcing the words out. "We fought. Badly."

Wanda’s eyes softened with concern, "what did she say?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head, "doesn’t matter."

Wanda crossed her arms, "I think it does." The last thing you truly needed was to have a fight with Wanda too.

You looked away, exhaling sharply. "I… I said she was a killer, Wanda." Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "The one thing she’s most vulnerable about, the one thing she probably hates herself for, and I-" Your breath caught in your throat. "I used it on her."

Wanda reached for your hand, squeezing it, "(Y/N)…"

"I weaponized it," you continued, your voice cracking. "That’s not who I am, Wanda. That’s not the kind of person I ever wanted to be."

"And I assume she also said something wrong?" You nodded, so Wanda squeezed your hand again, grounding you. "You both said wrong things."

"But I know better," you insisted, your voice raw. "I knew that would hurt her the most, and I still-" You exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through your hair. "God, this was a stupid idea. It was so stupid to come back here."

Wanda hesitated before speaking. "Well… it was my idea."

You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head, "yeah, but I agreed."

She sighed, watching you carefully, "do you regret it?"

"What?" you blinked at her, caught off guard.

"Being here," Wanda clarified. "Training again. Being with all of us."

You bit your lip, looking down. "No," you admitted after a moment, "not for a second."

Wanda nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. "Then that’s what matters."

You stayed close to Wanda for the rest of the evening, seeking comfort in her presence, unaware that something had shifted within her. She stayed by your side, held your hand when you needed grounding, whispered soft reassurances, but inside, she was battling her own thoughts.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did. Natasha had been close for the two of you, and this fight, as messy as it was, had clearly hurt you. Wanda wanted to be the person you leaned on, the one who supported you through it. And she was.

But it gnawed at her.

The way you were so torn about Natasha. The way you spoke about hurting her, as if it wounded you just as much. The way your eyes had glistened with regret. Wanda tried to shake it off, tried to tell herself it was just because you were a good person. You cared deeply, and that was why she loved you.

But still. It hurt.

She could feel it creeping in, no matter how much she hated it. That little whisper of doubt. Would you ever be that upset about hurting her? Would you ever fight for her the way you fought for Natasha? Are you truly over Natasha?

She hated that her mind went there.

That night, she didn’t bring it up to you. She kissed you softly, held you a little tighter, but her mind was restless.

So, the next morning, she went to find Pietro. She found him in the common room, lazily flipping through TV channels. As soon as she walked in, he gave her a knowing look. "You’ve got that face," he remarked, smirking. "The ‘I’m overthinking everything’ face."

Wanda sighed, flopping onto the couch beside him, "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Cool," Pietro said, then turned back to the TV. "So… how’s the whole ‘my girlfriend cares so much about her ex-who-she-fought-with-and-it’s-really-bothering-me-but-I-don’t-want-to-admit-it’ thing going?"

Wanda groaned, shoving him, "shut up."

Pietro laughed but then glanced at her again. His smirk faded slightly, "wait. You’re actually upset."

She sighed, rubbing her temples, "I don’t want to be, I know she cares about Natasha. I know she’s just upset because she doesn’t like fighting with people she cares about."

"But?" Pietro prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda exhaled sharply. "But it hurts, Pietro. I love her. And I know she loves me, but-" Her voice faltered. "I can’t help but wonder if she´s… still in love with her."

Pietro frowned. He turned off the TV, setting the remote aside as he fully faced her. "Wanda…" He hesitated. "That’s… kind of a sucky feeling."

She let out a dry chuckle, "tell me about it."

He shifted, thinking for a moment. Then, he shrugged, "that’s why I stay single."

She rolled her eyes, "so helpful."

Pietro gave her a half-smile, but when he saw the real distress in her eyes, his expression softened. "I’m serious, though. I don’t know how to help with this. You and (Y/N) love each other. That’s obvious. But I think… I think you’re scared."

Wanda blinked, "of what?"

Pietro tilted his head, "of getting hurt."

Wanda pressed her lips together. Pietro continued, "You always act like you’re fine, like you don’t get jealous or upset, but you do. And that’s okay. But, Wands," he sighed, "if you don’t talk to (Y/N) about it, you’re just gonna keep overthinking until you explode. And I really don’t want to deal with that. Let someone else read you too, you know?"

She let out another sigh, sinking deeper into the couch, "I don’t want to make it a big deal."

"But it is a big deal to you," Pietro pointed out. "So talk to her before it turns into something worse."

Wanda didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She hated feeling like this. But Pietro was right. And sooner or later, she’d have to say something. But Wanda isn´t the biggest talker, when it comes to her own feelings, so it´s gonna be later than sooner.

At first, you didn´t notice it. Wanda was still smiling at you, still curled into your side when you spend the night at the compound, still slipped her fingers through yours absentmindedly when you passed each other in the hall. But there was something… different.

She kissed you good morning, but it was shorter than usual. She held your hand, but her grip wasn´t as firm. When you teased her, she laughed, but it didn´t quite reach her eyes. It was subtle, but you know Wanda. And something was wrong.

It took a few days before you couldn´t ignore it anymore. She was folding her arms over her chest more, keeping just a bit of space between you. Her mind was louder than usual, unspoken thoughts swirled around her head like static. You tried not to overthink it, but eventually, you had to ask.

You waited until you’re alone, sitting together in your apartment. "Wanda," you said softly, reaching for her hand. "Are you okay?"

Her fingers twitched slightly before she pulled away, "yeah," she answered, too quickly. "I’m fine."

You gave her a look, "Wanda."

She sighed, rubbing her temples, and for the first time in days, she really looked at you. There was hesitation in her eyes, something raw and uncertain, and it made your stomach twist.

"I-" She stopped herself, brows furrowing before she took a shaky breath. "I don’t know how to say this without sounding… jealous. Or insecure. And I don’t want to be that person, but-"

You sat up straighter, heart already pounding, "Wanda, whatever it is, just tell me."

She looked down at her hands. "You and Natasha," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not just that she’s your ex. It’s the way you fought for her that day, the way you reacted when she left. I saw how much it hurt you."

You opened your mouth to respond, but she shakes her head, pushing forward. "And I get it, I do. I just-" She swallowed hard, eyes flickering with something vulnerable, something fragile. "I’m scared, (Y/N). What if she still has a part of your heart? What if one day, you fight against me the same way?"

You felt like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. "Wanda," you breathe.

She looked away, "I know it’s unfair. I trust you, I do. But I can’t help thinking about it, and I hate that." She clenched her fists. "I hate that she still affects you."

You reached for her again, gently taking her hands in yours. "Wanda," you said firmly, waiting until she meets your gaze. "I love you. And I choose you. Every single day."

She exhaleed shakily, her fingers tightening around yours, "I just don’t want to lose you," she whispered.

You squeezed her hands gently, your heart ached at the look in her eyes. Wanda, your Wanda, who had always been so sure, so steady, now looked at you like she’s terrified of losing you.

"I´m not going anywhere, okay?" your voice was quiet but firm. "I don’t have a place for Natasha as a lover in my heart." You shook your head, swallowing hard. "If anything, she was my friend first. That’s why I fought for her, why I- why I tried."

Wanda looked at you, searching your face for something… maybe reassurance, maybe the truth she already knew, but needed to hear again. Her voice was softer now, hesitant. "Not even a bit of her?"

You sighed, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. "I can’t change that we were exes," you admited. "It’s… not usual… this situation. I just… I want to make you happy, I don´t want to make you upset." You held her gaze, making sure she understands, "it wansn´t mean to be, it is sad, but we´re here, I´m here with you and i wouldn´t trade it for anything."

Wanda watched you for a long moment, her shoulders slowly relaxing. She nodded, more to herself than to you. "Natasha is my friend too, you know." She let out a sharp breath. "I don’t… Fuck, I hate this."

You blinked in surprise at the sudden curse, eyes widening slightly. It’s rare for Wanda to swear so bluntly, especially when she was being so straightforward.

She gestured vaguely, frustration clear on her face. "It’s a stupid fucking situation."

Despite yourself, you chuckled, shaking your head, "tell me about it."

For a second, there wassilence. Then, finally, Wanda exhaled a laughed too, albeit a small one. And for the first time in days, things didn´t feel so heavy between you. And you promised to eachother that you would try to get out of this situation with zero losses, meaning that neither of you would lose yourselves or Natasha. At the end, she is a friend.

You hadn’t seen much of Natasha since your fight.

Actually, no one had.

She wasn’t just avoiding you, she was avoiding everyone. Steve, Tony, Wanda even Clint. She still showed up for missions, still did what she had to, but beyond that? She was a ghost.

So when Steve pulled her aside and said he had an emergency - two agents fighting, needing backup, she hadn’t expected this. So of course she helped him.

The moment Natasha rushed into the gym, you knew. Her eyes scanned the room wildly before landing on you, her breath still heavy from running over so fast. And when she realized what was actually happening, just you standing there, her face twisted in something unreadable.

You turned, looking at Steve, who simply stood by the door, arms crossed.

Natasha's posture stiffened instantly, her body already pivoting toward the exit. "Steve," she warned, reaching for the handle.

"Talk," he said simply. And then… click.

The sound of the lock sliding into place made you jolt slightly. You glanced between Steve and Natasha, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. It had been weeks since you last spoke. Since that horrible fight where you said things you couldn’t take back. Natasha pulled a hairpin from her pocket, quickly kneeling to pick the lock. But before she could even try, you exhaled, shaking your head.

"You can’t open it," you said, crossing your arms. "Even if you pick the lock. It’s one of Tony’s new systems. The door won’t budge unless Steve lets us out."

Natasha shot you a sharp look before turning back to Steve, who simply raised a brow.

"Guess you’re stuck," he said, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you both standing in heavy silence.

Natasha sat on the ground, leaning back against the wall, her fingers absently toying with the pin she had tried to use on the lock. Her gaze was cast downward, jaw tight, and you could see the way her mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to navigate this without letting too much slip.

You watched her for a long moment, arms crossed, shifting your weight between your feet, "this isn’t ideal, I know," you finally said, voice careful, measured. "I doubt either of us wanted to have this conversation. But we’re here."

Natasha stayed quiet.

You took a slow breath, pushing past the lump in your throat. "I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t mean it."

Her fingers stilled against the pin, but she didn’t lift her head.

You hesitated, forcing yourself to keep going. "That day, when I said what I did- I knew it was going to hurt. That’s why I said it." Your voice cracked slightly, but you didn’t stop. "I wanted to hurt you, the same way you were hurting me."

Silence.

Your chest ached at her lack of response, but you pushed forward anyway.

"I pushed you away," you admitted, voice quieter now. "And now I hate that we’re not even friends anymore." You swallowed hard, emotions threatening to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to keep looking at her. Really looking at her. "You were a huge part of my life, Nat. That doesn’t just disappear."

Finally, finally, her head lifted slightly. Her green eyes met yours, but they weren’t sharp or guarded like before. They just looked… tired.

"I still want you to be a part of my life," you whispered.

Natasha exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally speaking. "I’m sorry too," she murmured, voice raw. "For everything. And… I don’t think you’re a lot to handle." She hesitated, then shook her head. "I know Wanda won’t ever get tired of you."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You felt something in your chest unclench just slightly, like a weight had been lifted, like finally, you weren’t fighting against someone who refused to meet you halfway.

"I was a dick," Natasha added, glancing at you.

You huffed a soft laugh, crossing your arms, "yup."

Natasha scoffed, shaking her head, but there was the smallest hint of amusement there.

"But me too," you admitted.

Her lips twitched, barely a ghost of a smirk. "Always had to do the same thing, hm?"

You let out a breath, giving her a small shrug, "it’s what we do."

For a moment, silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t unbearable, it just hung there, fragile but not suffocating. Then Natasha exhaled again, pressing her palms against her knees, looking at nothing in particular. "I had one good thing," she said suddenly, voice quiet. "One thing in my life that felt real. And when we broke up, I lost it. I lost the only good part of me."

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t interrupt.

Natasha’s gaze was distant, like she was lost somewhere in the past. "I’ve never been certain of anything in my life, not really. Everything’s always been a mission, a directive, something to follow. But when I was with you…" She hesitated, fingers twitching slightly. "I thought I was certain. Even if I was terrified of it. And when I had the good thing, I wanted more and more, until the main reason why I was happy… I lost the main sorce of my happiness."

You swallowed hard, biting the inside of your cheek.

She let out a small, humorless chuckle. "I don’t even know what I’m saying right now."

"It’s okay." You reached out your hand, offering to help Natasha stand up.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha didn’t pull away and took your hand.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself before speaking, "I don’t regret it, you know."

Natasha blinked, caught off guard, "what?"

"Loving you," you clarifed, your voice steady but soft, "I don’t regret any of it."

She stared at you, like she’s not sure she heard you right. Like it physically hurts her to hear it. But you don’t stop.

"I’m with Wanda now, and I love her. I really, truly do," you continued, watching the way Natasha’s expression shifts, how she keeps her face neutral, but you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten slightly. "But that doesn’t mean what we had wasn’t real, or that I wish it didn’t happen. Because I don’t."

Natasha swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, like she needs to gather herself before she can respond.

"And I know how much you mean to Wanda," you went on. "She doesn’t say it out loud all the time, but I see it. She trusts you, looks up to you even. And Pietro… he’s starting to fit in, and I know a lot of that is because of you."

Natasha exhaled sharply, shaking her head, "I didn’t-"

"You did," you cut in, giving her a small, knowing smile. "Without you, neither of them would be getting comfortable here as easily as they are. And I just…" You paused, gathering the right words. "I see that you’ve changed. And I’m proud of you, Nat."

She looked at you then, really looked at you, like she’s trying to figure out if you mean it. Like she wanted to believe it but didn´t know if she’s allowed to.

"I’d be happy if we could be friends," you said gently. "Because I’d like that. I really would."

There’s a long pause before Natasha finally nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I would like that too."

Something in your chest eased, and when you step forward, arms open slightly, she hesitates only for a second before pulling you into a hug.

You held her tight, and she held you just as firmly, but there’s something else there, something breaking beneath the surface. Because this is closure. This is her realizing that no matter what, she can’t go back in time. And even though she said she want this, even though she does, it still hurts. Seeing you with someone else.

You pulled back just slightly, searching Natasha’s face, "so… we’re good?"

She met your gaze, nods. "Yeah. We’re good.”

Before you could said anything else, there’s a soft beep, and the lock on the door clicks open.

Natasha exhaled sharply, glancing toward it. Then she looked back at you, "if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go kill the famous Captain America."

You couldn´t help but chuckle, stepping aside so she can leave, "go easy on him," you said, though you both know she won’t.

Natasha gave you one last look before shaking her head with a smirk and walking out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. It’s like a weight has lifted off your chest. Things are not perfect, but at least you talked things through.

You found Wanda in the common area, lounging on the couch with a book in her lap. The moment she saw you, she smiled, setting it aside. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," you replied, dropping down beside her. You exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time in what felt like days. "I talked to Natasha."

Wanda tilted her head, studying your expression, "and?"

You smiled, a genuine one this time. "We're good. I mean, as good as we can be. We're friends."

Wanda let out a relieved sigh, nodding. "I'm glad. It´s been a lot… she need a break"

"So do you," you pointed out, reaching for her hand. "But yeah, I’m happy. I think this is good for all of us."

Wanda squeezed your fingers gently, "yeah. I think so too."

Before you could say anything else, the door opened, and Natasha walked in. She looked around for a second before her eyes landed on you.

"So," you said with a smirk, "did you kick America's ass?"

Natasha smirked back, "of course I did."

Wanda chuckled softly, shaking her head. But then Natasha’s expression shifted, and she looked at Wanda more seriously. "Can we talk?"

You blinked, exchanging a glance with Wanda. Oh.

Wanda shot you a look before turning back to Natasha, "um… yeah, sure."

You hesitated for a second, then stood up. "I’ll just… be over there," you said, motioning vaguely before slipping out of the room.

As you left, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of nervousness. Whatever Natasha wanted to say to Wanda… you just hoped it wouldn’t undo all the progress you had made.

Wanda crossed her arms as she watched you leave, then turned back to Natasha. "Alright," she said carefully. "What do you want to talk about?"

Natasha exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "I just…" She hesitated, like she was trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say. "I wanted to make sure there’s no… weirdness. Between us."

Wanda arched an eyebrow. "No weirdness?"

Natasha shrugged, forcing a small smirk. "Yeah. You and me, we’re good, right?"

Wanda narrowed her eyes, seeing right through her. "You tell me."

Natasha held her gaze for a moment, then sighed. "Look, I just want you and (Y/N) to be happy, alright? That’s all I care about."

Wanda tilted her head, fingers tapping against her arm, "and that’s it?"

"That’s it," Natasha lied, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. She could hear the way her voice wavered, could feel the ache in her chest. But she ignored it.

Wanda studied her, searching for something in her expression. "You don’t have to do that."

Natasha frowned, "do what?"

"Pretend," Wanda answered. "I know it hurts you."

Natasha’s frown deepened. "Don’t go inside my head," she muttered, her tone sharp.

Wanda stayed calm, but her expression remained firm. "I’m not," she said evenly. "But I know that if I did, I’d see that I’m right."

Natasha’s jaw tightened. Something in her shoulders went rigid, a flicker of something almost like panic in her eyes. "Don’t," she snapped, voice lower this time.

Wanda took a slow breath. "Then don’t lie."

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You think you know everything, don’t you?"

"No," Wanda admitted. "But I know enough."

Natasha clenched her fists at her sides, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "It doesn’t matter," she muttered, looking away.

"It does to me," Wanda said softly.

"Why?" Natasha asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it. There was a quiet desperation in it, a frustration she wasn’t sure she could keep contained much longer. "Why do you care? You got what you wanted. You have her."

Wanda hesitated, then stepped forward. "Because you’re my friend too, you know," she said. "And I don’t hate you, even if sometimes I wish I did. It would make this a lot easier."

Natasha forced a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You and me both."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

Wanda studied her, searching her face for something Natasha wasn’t sure she wanted to show. "You’re allowed to be upset, Nat," Wanda murmured.

Natasha scoffed. "What good would that do?"

"It’s better than pretending you’re fine when you’re not," Wanda said. Natasha sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore," she admitted, voice quieter now.

Wanda nodded, understanding. "Then figure it out. But don’t shut everyone out in the process."

Natasha still wouldn’t look up, her eyes fixed on the floor as if the answer to all of this could somehow be found in the cracks beneath her feet. Wanda could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself so tightly, and she didn´t have to read her mind at all.

"You don’t have to say anything," Wanda said after a moment, her voice softer now, "but don’t pretend like this doesn’t hurt."

Natasha let out a breath, one that sounded just a little too shaky. "Of course it hurts," she muttered.

Wanda waited, giving her space to keep going, to say something real. And for once, Natasha didn’t fight it.

"I-" Natasha exhaled sharply, raking a hand through her hair. "I know she’s happy with you," she said finally. "And I want that. I want her to be happy." She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "But I still-" She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stop.

Wanda nodded. "You still love her."

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, her hands tightening into fists, "yeah, I do."

Wanda could feel the weight of the confession, how much it was costing Natasha to say it out loud, especially to her. And for once, she didn’t feel jealousy creeping in. Just… sadness.

"But that doesn’t change anything," Natasha said quickly, as if trying to convince herself more than Wanda. "She’s not mine anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time."

"That doesn’t mean you can just switch it off," Wanda said gently.

Natasha sighed, finally looking up. "I know that, I tried that," she let out a chuckle. "But I also know I don’t want to lose her again. And I sure as hell don’t want to mess things up with you."

Wanda blinked, caught off guard, "with me?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, her voice almost resigned. "I know I’ve been a pain in the ass, but… you’re important to her. And I- I don’t want to be the thing that puts a wedge between you two."

Wanda studied her for a long moment. There was no deception in Natasha’s face this time. No act, no pretense. Just raw, aching honesty.

"You won’t," Wanda promised. "Not if we don’t let it." Natasha huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not," Wanda admitted. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t try." Natasha didn’t answer right away. She just stared at nothing, shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted, drained in a way Wanda hadn’t seen before.

"I just… I miss what it felt like," Natasha said suddenly, voice so quiet Wanda almost missed it. "Being in love with her. Being loved by her." She exhaled. "It was the one good thing I had. And when I lost it, I lost the best part of me."

Wanda’s chest ached at the way she said it, like she truly believed it. "That’s not true," she said. "You’re more than who you were with her, Nat."

Natasha didn’t look convinced.

"You don’t have to lose her," Wanda continued. "Not completely. And you don’t have to lose yourself either."

Natasha let the words sink in, her throat working as she swallowed. "I want to believe that," she admitted.

"Then start trying."

Natasha huffed a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. "Look how the tables turn," she muttered, shaking her head. "You helping me out."

Wanda smiled, tilting her head slightly. "That’s what friends do.”

Natasha blinked at her, something twisting deep in her chest. Friends. It should feel like a relief, like something solid to hold on to, but all she could think was… why is she so nice?

She should hate her. She should resent her, should want nothing to do with her. After everything, after the hurt, the mess Natasha had made of things. But she didn’t.

Wanda looked at her for a long moment, as if she could hear every thought in Natasha’s head. And maybe she didn’t need her powers to do that, maybe she just knew.

"You held enough hate to yourself," Wanda said, voice steady. "I don´t see the point to adding up on that."

Natasha swallowed, her throat suddenly too tight.

"Love is-" she hesitated, searching for the right words. "Love is what holds a person together. What keeps them alive."

Natasha looked away, jaw clenching. She wanted to argue, to push back, to scoff at the idea of love being some great, saving force. But… wasn’t that why she was hurting? Because she had lost it?

Wanda sighed. "I know what it’s like to hold onto something so tightly because you’re afraid of what happens if you let go." She exhaled, softer now. "But you don’t have to hold on alone, Natasha."

Natasha closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t know what she had expected from this conversation… maybe anger, maybe resentment. But not this. Not understanding.

When she opened them again, Wanda was still looking at her, still offering something Natasha wasn’t sure she deserved. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to.

So she just nodded. "Okay."

Wanda smiled, small but real. "Okay."

…

Weeks passed, and Natasha was really trying.

She helped you with recruits, running combat drills and teaching them how to spot weaknesses in an opponent. She sparred with Steve, listened to his endless lectures about teamwork, and even agreed to help Clint babysit on his rare nights off. She joined in on dinners with the rest of the Avengers, laughing at Tony’s terrible impressions and throwing in her own dry remarks that made everyone crack up.

She and Wanda found an easy rhythm on missions, covering each other, moving as a unit. There was no hesitation between them, no lingering tension. Just trust. And when you and Natasha sat together, talking shit about Fury’s ever-growing list of secrets, it almost felt like before.

Every friday night (if there was no missions or Tony´s parties) the common room was filled with laughter, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light over the group. It was movie night, something Tony had declared mandatory for "team bonding" (though everyone suspected he just liked forcing his bad taste in movies on the rest of them).

You were curled up against Wanda, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. She was warm, solid against you, and every now and then, she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

Across the room, Steve was in the middle of a heated debate with Tony, arms crossed as he scowled. "Salted popcorn is objectively better," Steve argued, gesturing toward the bowl in his lap. "It’s simple, classic-"

"Boring," Tony interrupted, tossing a handful of caramel popcorn into his mouth. "You’re boring, Rogers."

"Caramel is just sugar pretending to be food," Steve shot back.

Bucky, lounging lazily with his feet up on the coffee table, raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you a billionaire? Why don’t we just make both and be done with this?"

Tony scoffed dramatically, waving a hand. "That’s not the point, Rust Bucket."

Natasha, sitting comfortably in the armchair beside them, smirked and looked over at Bucky. "Leave them. They’ll tire themselves out in a minute."

Bucky hummed in agreement, watching as Steve and Tony continued bickering like an old married couple. Natasha’s gaze flickered over to you and Wanda. Her expression softened as she took in the way. Wanda curled closer to you, the way you leaned into her touch without hesitation.

She flashed you both a small, easy smile. "You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?"

Wanda rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Says the woman who ‘accidentally’ left The Notebook playing on loop last week."

Natasha scoffed, "That was Clint, and I stand by my alibi."

You chuckled, shaking your head. It was nice… this easy, teasing dynamic. Natasha seemed okay. She felt okay.

Everything was good.

Everything was normal.

Natasha sat back in her chair, a faint smirk playing on her lips as she watched the group around her. The warmth of their laughter, the way they bickered and teased, it should have felt like home. It should have been enough. It was before.

She turned her gaze back to you and Wanda, curled up together on the couch, lost in your own little world. She had smiled when she called you disgustingly cute, had even managed to make it sound teasing and light. But the words had burned as they left her lips, a quiet kind of agony twisting in her chest.

Because the truth was, it still hurt. It still felt like she was being ripped apart, piece by piece, every time she looked at you and knew you weren’t hers anymore.

And yet, no one noticed.

No one noticed the way her hands shook when she was alone, gripping the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white. No one noticed the way exhaustion clung to her bones, no matter how much she slept, if she even slept at all. No one noticed that her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes, that they never had, not since she lost you.

No one noticed how, when she said she was happy for you, she had been lying… not to you, but to herself.

No one noticed that beneath it all, she still felt lost.

And this time, she was faking it so well that even she almost believed it.

Almost.

taglist: @starrycherie, @esposadejoyhuerta, @redroomgraduate, @seventeen-x

[itneverendshere]

what’s lyayw!reader and rafe doing for her first mother’s day?

also, what did bartender!reader and rafe do for mother’s day

can't reply to lyayw portion bc i'd be giving out spoilers. based on this prompt + rafe trying to surprise you with a new bag, but he lowkey forgot you get notified about charges to the card.

MOTHER'S DAY BLURB

It’s hardly 7 AM when you hear the muffled rustle of fabric, the bedroom door opening, and then the softest thump as it clicks shut.

You stir but stay still—half-asleep, one arm cradling the little heater curled against your chest. Your six-month-old daughter, Autumn, born on a cold Thanksgiving day—is still asleep, her tiny hand gripping the neckline of your oversized tee as if she owns the entire place.

Which, arguably, she does.

You don’t wake up properly until a little past eight, when she starts babbling against your skin, lashes fluttering as she kicks her socked feet into your stomach. There’s drool on your shirt. Her hair’s doing that feathery halo thing, all staticky and fine.

You press a kiss to the crown of her head.

You don’t remember the date until you’re halfway through the skincare aisle at Target, three hours later, clutching a cold green tea and trying to ignore the fact that your baby is chewing on the corner of the shopping list in her car seat.

Your phone buzzes.

“Thanks for your purchase at CHANEL.”

You frown.

Another notification.

$7,128.94.

You blink at the total. What the fuck? You’re genuinely thinking your card’s been stolen, seconds away from calling the fraud line when another notification rolls in:

Rafe Cameron Memo: “don’t look at this. ily”

You stop dead in the middle of the feminine hygiene aisle. Autumn shrieks delightedly like she knows something you don’t.

You FaceTime him immediately.

He answers after one ring, forehead already creased, face angled down, knowing he’s been caught.

“Hi, baby.” he grimaces. “You weren't supposed to see that yet.”

“Seven thousand dollars?”

“It’s not just one bag,” he adds defensively. “There’s one for you. And one for—”

“You did not.”

“I did.” He sounds smug. “It’s her first Chanel. She’ll thank me later.”

“She can’t sit up by herself.”

“She will soon. Our girl’s a prodigy.”

You close your eyes, fighting a laugh. “I’m at Target. She’s eating a receipt.”

He grins. “So you’re saying she could use a purse.”

You hang up on him.

By the time you get home, the apartment smells like waffles (burnt), the kitchen is suspiciously clean (you don’t trust it), and there’s a giant black box sitting on the bed with an even smaller box beside it, both wrapped in a thick white ribbon like it’s Christmas morning.

Rafe is nowhere to be found until he peeks in the doorway, holding a single daisy from the bodega in the other. Your favorite.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he sings. “I know it’s not the same as, sleep, or sanity, or alone time, but... I thought you deserved something you didn’t have to share. Well—except the second bag. That’s hers. Technically.”

Your throat gets tight. You don’t cry—you’re too tired to cry—but you press your face into your daughter’s cheek and breathe her in. She squeals and grabs your nose like it’s a button.

He grins, eyes so in love with you it hurts.

“Look at you,” he says. “Six months in and already the best mom in the world.”

You’re still scolding him for the baby-sized luxury bag when Rafe steps closer, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek with a look that’s suddenly dangerous for your hormones.

“There’s one more thing,” he says.

You narrow your eyes. “If you tell me you bought her a baby Rolex, I’m going to throw the waffle maker at your head.”

“I booked us a hotel on the mainland. Just for the weekend. You and me.” He pauses, gauging your reaction. “Autumn’s staying with JJ and Kie. They said they’d bring her to the beach, and JJ already bought one of those ridiculous baby sunglasses and called dibs on bedtime duty.”

“You… booked a hotel?”

“For you,” he says. “For us. I thought you missed having time where we weren’t just swapping off who gets to shower first.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out and then you’re crying. So much for being too tired! It turns into a full-on, ugly-face, can't-catch-your-breath crying. You press your palm to your mouth hoping it’ll stop the sob that escapes anyway, and Rafe’s already wrapping his arms around you, placing Autumn on the bed, before you can make another wailing sound, that weird noise of relief and guilt and love all at once.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice flooded with worry. “Is that a bad surprise? I thought—baby, I thought you’d want—”

“I do,” you cry into his shirt. “I miss you so much. I haven’t shaved my legs in threes weeks. And—and we never sleep at the same time and she’s perfect, I love her so much, but I miss you and now I’m going to miss her and I—why would you do this to me on Mother’s Day?”

He chuckles, rubbing your back, trying to soothe you through the whole hormonal meltdown.

You sniffle into his chest. “You should’ve just gotten me a massage. Or, wine. Not a full-blown identity crisis in a Ritz-Carlton suite.”

He laughs again. “It’s not the Ritz. I couldn’t get us in last-minute.”

You smack his chest through your tears.

Autumn squeals on the bed beside you, arms flapping like a baby bird, oblivious to the absolute emotional hurricane her mom is having over the idea of sleeping without her for two nights and also finally getting railed in a bed that doesn’t have spit-up on the comforter.

Rafe kisses your temple. “It’s just a weekend. She’ll be fine. And we need this. You need this.”

You exhale shakily, nodding and then laughing through your tears. You wipe your face on his sleeve, and reach for your daughter—because yeah, you’re going to miss her. You’re going to ache for her the whole damn weekend.

But you miss Rafe more right now. The yearning keeps building when you’re both too tired to kiss properly at night; when he brings you coffee the way you like it without asking; or folds your laundry even though he sucks at it; or stares at your stretch-marked hips with the same old devotion.

You sniff, wipe your eyes again, and glance at the little Chanel box your daughter is now enthusiastically chewing on like a teething toy.

Rafe notices.

“Don’t worry,” he gloats. “I made sure her bag has the gold hardware. She deserves the best.

You groan. “She spits up on her own hands, Rafe.”

Your eyes linger on the boxes. The old you would’ve torn him a new one for spending that much on bags—especially one for a baby who thinks her feet are edible—but things have been good lately. You’ve both been trying so hard, loving harder. Giving each other grace. It doesn’t piss you off like it used to. It feels… kind. Thoughtful, even, in a weird, over-the-top Rafe Cameron kind of way.

He leans down and kisses your shoulder. "Can’t be caught in lambskin and silver like a peasant.”

You snort—an undignified, exhausted sound that gets muffled as Autumn yanks your hair. Still, the warmth is there, as always. That's what happens when someone loves you this fully, this dumbly.

You glance up at him. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to throw things.”

“You always say that. We’ll leave Friday. You can cry in the car if you want. Or wait until after check-in.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to Autumn’s cheek as she starts to drift again, thumb curled against her lip, her tiny breaths hiccuping with sleepy satisfaction.

“And when we come back,” you murmur, “I want to sleep with her on my chest for twelve hours straight. No one’s allowed to touch her but me.”

“Deal,” Rafe says. “As long as I get you on my chest for at least four hours before that.”

You give him a tired, squinty-eyed glare. “You’re disgusting.”

“Married me anyway.”

[mullermilkshake]

It’s pointless if you don’t know the reason

Part 8 <- Part 9 -> Part 10

The Chairman wades in and Jinwoo is in the dog house again.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - No major tags, pregnant reader

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

“It’s fantastic to see you both. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by, I simply couldn’t wait to congratulate you.”

Jinwoo watched the Chairman closely, his whole stance was wrong, the gentle look he gave you was wrong. The way he confidently sat on the living room sofa with his fingers laced together was smug and utterly wrong. Jinwoo just couldn’t place it.

“Thank you, Chairman.” Did you know that something was off too? You held your stomach as though on instinct, looking down at the floor like you had something to feel shameful for.

“Twins…” The chairman smiled without Jin-chul accompanying him this time, he was close by no doubt. “It’s such wonderful news, I was hopeful we’d have an anomaly such as this when the programme got on its way years down the line. But seeing it on the second try truly is a marvel.”

“It’s quite a shock, Chairman. Our apologies that we couldn’t tell you ourselves.” You edged closer to Jinwoo, subtly enough though the Chairman caught it instantly.

“That’s quite alright. But this does beg the question now that you’ll let the association hold a celebration for you. Twin babies ought to be celebrated.”

You made it adamantly clear when your pregnancy came to fruition that you did not want the fuss that came with it. However, the choice might not be in your hands.

“Chairman-“

“With all due respect, Chairman.” Jinwoo stepped in before you could, saying your name with authority. “She made it clear that she didn’t want a celebration, I trust you can understand the pressure she’s under to remain calm and well rested as per the association’s Doctor’s recommendations.”

Despite the squabbling and bickering from the hospital to the front door, Jinwoo’s priorities had shifted somewhat. It wasn’t just you now that this compulsion had over grown like ivy, it was towards the babies too. By the hour-no, the minute, his mind was overtaking itself at levels he wasn’t sure how to comprehend.

“I understand that. But as this is your duty, it’s made you National heroes.” 

So the Chairman would go down a pushy route? It went against everything Jinwoo knew him by. It put his back up, sharp and pointing right at the Chairman’s face. This was what his new state of mind did to people that weren’t you.

In other words, he’d kill the Chairman right now if he threatened your life and he’d feel no remorse for it either.

A dangerous sentiment. But Jinwoo did not care.

“Chairman, I’m very tired. I would like to respectfully decline.”

“Of course you are, you’re growing two very special children inside you. That takes plenty of energy. I simply won’t have you worrying over anything, so I’ll handle this myself and inform you of all the details at a later date.”

Huh? What did he just say? 

The Chairman rose to his feet and traipsed on over to the front door, where conveniently, Jin-chul was waiting right outside.

“I’ll see you two very soon, though be sure to pay Hunter Cha a visit soon, she could use the company.” And then he left, leaving Jin-chul in the hallway.

He slipped off his sunglasses and tucked them inside his breast pocket. “A word of advice? Play the long game and entertain him. Korea is the first of the many countries to participate in this programme, and the first produce twins as a part of it. By the way those two are producing mana the way they are, it’s more than just an anomaly, it’s a mystery… and the Chairman is hopeful that this union will give the association an edge.”

“These babies aren't weapons.” Jinwoo had to hold you back, hoping to keep the crazed look in your sudden maternal eyes.

Jin-chul didn’t seem the least bit phased. “Not weapons. Just a statement. If those children are born at B-Rank or above without having an awakening, high officials all over the world will want to see. Just bear that in mind. Heed my advice, or don’t, it’s your choice, but one choice will make life easier and the other won’t.”

Jinwoo glared at him as he turned and walked away with his hands smoothly in his pockets. Just what was the Chairman up to? Did Jong-in and Hae-in have this tak with the Chairman too? He had to find out, he needed to understand the larger picture, but his gut told him to do it the old fashioned way and not entertain the idea of posting a shadow onto the Chairman under any circumstances. He just wasn’t sure why.

“Why do they want to put babies on display- just to say ‘hey, we have more than you’, like, really? Jinwoo, I don’t like this. And the Chairman wants to parade us in front of everyone just because I’m pregnant now."

“I feel the same way.” He sat you down on the sofa, kneeling in front of you with his hand reassuringly on your knee. “I want you to rest though, can you do that? I need to see Jong-in, ask him a few questions…”

Would you snap at him again if he asked? Only one way to find out. 

“Can I leave Igris here with you? I’d feel better if I did.”

“Jinwoo, I don’t…” you hesitated, the agonising drawn out pause by the way you looked at him took forever. “Okay… just- can I meet him first?”

“Y-yeah, uh, you can meet him.” Jinwoo swallowed hard and paused, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, yet did it anyway. “Igris, come out and introduce yourself.”

He did, delicately showing himself like undisturbed smoke, billowing into his form to kneel. His head lowered deeper than anything he’d ever done before.

That’s odd. He never thought to address it, though Igris had never kneeled to anyone other than Jinwoo.

“Hello, Igris.” There was only normality in your voice, not fear or awkwardness. Just normality, watching the humanoid shadow kneel. 

Like a knight kneeling before his queen.

Jinwoo watched you closely, knowing he’d fallen for the right person, the perfect woman to start a family with, and his shadows welcomed it.

“He can’t speak, but I can tell he enjoys your presence.”

“Oh, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Igris.”

Igris dropped his head lower in acknowledgement, holding firm with a form of respect Jinwoo had never received. 

You hesitated, placing a hand on Jinwoo's. “Actually… can I come with you? It would be nice to see how Hae-in is doing. She’s pretty much on her own over there.”

“Are you sure?” 

There was a high possibility that Jong-in was over there right now and Jinwoo didn’t think he could sit through an hour of that man hovering about.

“Mhm, if I’m terrified about all this, I can only imagine how she must be feeling.”

While your sentiment was admirable, Jinwoo’s inability to make you more at ease snapped away at him. He was trying to be as accommodating as he could within reason, and you were still terrified, as you put it. Would seeing Jong-in make matters worse? Jinwoo never stopped and thought long and hard whether Jong-in was a stepping stone closer to you.

Long story short, would Jong-in’s presence make you feel things towards him that you never admitted to Jinwoo’s face?

Jinwoo wanted to limit your interactions with him going forward, to preserve his relationship with you. It wasn’t that Jinwoo felt threatened, but Jong-in’s presence didn’t help settle things. He couldn’t exactly forbid you though, could he? Your reaction to Igris was a plain and unmistakable reminder of how strong willed you were.

Against his better judgement, Jinwoo agreed. “Alright. We’ll head over now.”

“Thanks, Jinwoo.” 

Hae-In opened the door cautiously when you knocked, she peered through the gap and opened it once she realised who it was.

“Oh… hello, Jinwoo.” She addressed you first, but bashfully watched Jinwoo exclusively. “What are you both doing here?”

“We wanted to see how you were doing, and need to ask you a few things, if you’re up for it?” You said, stepping through the doorway into the apartment.

“Me? You might be better asking Jong-in. I’m not sure how useful I’ll be, my brains all over the place lately.”

“It’s alright, it’s just a few quick things that we aren’t sure of.”

“Oh, is it baby stuff? Because I’m still finding out myself, the morning sickness is really bad. You went for your scan today, didn’t you? Jong-in told me about it.”

How the hell did Jong-in find out?

“Well,” you looked away and sat yourself down in the sofa. “It went alright, just a little shock but-“

“We’re having twins.”

You gasped though tried to keep it in, you never stifled your emotions well and this time was no different. Jinwoo knew how Hae-in felt about him and he didn’t care what the outcome was.

“Right… well I think a congratulations are in order, Jong-in will be pleased with the news.”

“Hae-in- I’m so sorry- Jinwoo-“ You glared at him. But the damage had already been done.

Jinwoo just had to rip off the bandaid to ensure she moved past the feelings she held for Jinwoo, and crushed them under his foot. Jinwoo would never return those feelings and was better she got it out of her system.

“So…” Hae-in smiled as best she could. “Twins, huh? Maybe that’s why I sensed that odd aura when you came through the door.” She chuckled to hide her pain.

Jinwoo could tell that it upset you, the fact an acquaintance and fellow hunter could sense the babies and you couldn’t.

You swallowed back it well enough.“The Chairman’s taking a liking to us after finding out and we wanted to know what he’s been like with you and the baby. Has Hunter Woo come by at all?”

“He’s been around, but not too involved. The Chairman was happy at first, but since he found out you were pregnant, we haven’t really seen him.”

So he’s flitting between pregnancies? Or looking for one in particular? The babies mana might be something to keep an eye on, no doubt he would have picked up on it if Hae-in has. 

Jinwoo contemplated confronting the Chairman directly, but as more and more hunters would inevitably fall pregnant, he assumed for now that the Chairman would follow suit and move on. For now at least.

“Was he pushy in having the announcement dinner? He wants to make a big deal out of this and to be honest, I just want to get the next nine months out of the way and going public is the last thing I want.”

It was wrong that Jinwoo wanted to go public, more so that he could rub it in the faces of everyone who either talked down at his previous E-Rank, those who wanted you, or wanted Jinwoo away from you. It wasn’t clear yet who did, if there was anyone, but still, Jinwoo wanted it that way.

“I wouldn’t say he was pushy, but before I fell pregnant, he did sit down and talk to us about being a little more…” she searched for the word. “Intimate? But I think it was a publicity thing or something like that.”

“Right…” you said, standing up and straightening yourself out. “Thank you, Hae-in. Sorry you found out about the babies like that.”

Jinwoo knew your eyes were burning into him. “If you need us, you know where we are… I need to have a lie down, it’s been a long day.”

You left before Hae-in could even utter a word, stomping off towards the front door, you zipped around Igris who was waiting by the door without another word. Jinwoo called out to you once the door closed behind him. He knew you went straight to the bedroom but called out anyway.

“Don’t start! I’m not happy with you, at all!” 

Igris turned and looked away from Jinwoo, heading off towards the living area in some form of protest.

He knew what he’d done wrong, he just never thought he’d get this type of response. He could put it down to pregnancy hormones, though you’d only deal more damage to him.

And it would kill him if you gave him the silent treatment.

I guess I'll go grovel.

Part 8 <- Part 9 -> Part 10

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[strungnews]

Ever wonder where exactly Mark gets his puppy eyes from?

Its no secret he uses those bad puppers constantly just to get his way. Be it by you, William, or his own mother.

Time and time again he gets away almost scott free of consequences, you really should be grateful that he doesn’t abuse his charismatic power. Or else you’d be stuck in a ditch screaming for your life while he most likely munches on something you specifically told him that was for you only.

This question quickly gets answered through a small series of events unfolding like a badly placed domino, a chain reaction flicking that lightbulb inside your head.

You’ve been at the mercy of Mark and William for a while. Only because the three of you did a quick rock paper scissors battle and winning. But you guys went by majority rules, and was peer pressured into doing it instead.

“You’re their favorite!” William says, and grunts when Mark nudges him with a childish pout.

“Fine.” You conceded. They only give you a thumbs up in show of support, their hushed whispers spill through the cracks of the door.

“And bring me some soda!” William added. Another thing to snatch away from the very daunting task of going downstairs past the big boss battle (Mark’s parents) and quickly coming back in one piece.

“Good luck!” Mark further encourages with a toothy smile, or lack thereof. He always had a habit of losing teeth as a kid, and said kid is swiftly clicking the door shut a moment later.

Debbie’s a patient person, kind and loving. Like nothing could move her.

But she’s been having an ‘off day’, and it was hard to approach her when it happens in the rare instances of the life’s natural balance of their home.

“Nolan, how many times have I told you about this?” She waves a hand, pointing to the mess he had tracked in. You can only see the large plains of his back, but by the looks of it, he seems dejected.

“Debbie, I swear I didn’t do it. It must’ve been the kids when they were going out-“ and her sigh cuts him off. Like a damn knife slicing through cake.

“Nolan, please.” She puts her hands up, exasperated as she looks away from him and at the thought of this grown man pinning the blame to the young unassuming kids who were silent upstairs.

“Please, just clean up this mess.” And Nolan complies with a defeated nod. He turns around and you catch a glimpse of his face. Your cover most likely blown at the very top of the dim staircase, when an immediate response is gasped from your mouth.

Nolan Grayson. Head man of the house, bigger than most men you’ve ever known—reduced to this state only a woman like Debbie ever could. His ways of persuasion leaving no effect unlike her son’s. Worth a shot, he shrugs.

“Hello?” Debbie calls out, and Nolan’s expression quickly snaps and hardens. You book it back up into the room and jump into the covers.

“What happened?”

“Shh!” The sound of footsteps slowly makes its way to Mark’s room. It cracks open with a creak, eyes most likely roaming over their ‘sleeping bodies’, before shutting it closed. The sounds of feet padding slowly descends away.

“I know your secret!” You loudly declared, giggling with your hands to your mouth.

You haven’t been able to look at Mark and Nolan the same. Every time Mark got scolded by him growing up, all you could imagine was his face and his dragging feet. A snort would come right out of you.

“What’s so funny?” Mark says to you with his brows furrowed and lip jutted. Just like Nolans. But he had everything his father lacked in being convincing with his pleading eyes, which is what made Mark so deadly.

“Nothing.” You smile.

[sabrinajenre96]

Title: Double Trouble

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Wife!Detective!Reader

Genre: Humor, Fluff, Light Angst

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1,800

---

Tamara didn’t mean to buy a stolen car. In her defense, it looked like a good deal, and the guy was very convincing.

Which was why Lucy was now hunched over her desk, typing furiously into the DMV and criminal databases. “Okay, we’re close,” she mumbled, narrowing her eyes at the screen. “Original registration says... Jack Butler.”

Angela leaned over Lucy’s shoulder. “Jack Butler? That sounds fake.”

Nyla, sipping her coffee nearby, snorted. “Everything about that car was fake. What does he look like?”

Lucy clicked to open the owner’s DMV photo.

And froze.

So did Angela.

“What the...” Angela blinked and leaned in. “Is that—?”

“Tim?” Nyla finished.

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “That’s not Tim.”

Angela tilted her head. “No. That’s Tim... if he spent a lot more time drinking beer and getting tattoos.”

Nyla let out a low whistle. “That’s Tim with a daddy bod and a lot of ink. Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

At that moment, you passed by with a coffee in hand. “What’s going on?”

Angela waved you over. “Y/N, you need to see this.”

You leaned in, eyes landing on Lucy’s screen. You nearly dropped your coffee. “Oh my God. It’s like someone cosplayed your husband after watching Sons of Anarchy.”

The group burst out laughing.

“That’s not him,” Lucy said again, but even she sounded unsure.

---

Ten minutes later, Tim walked into the bullpen. He immediately noticed the group of women all looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay... why are you all looking at me like that?”

Angela turned away, giggling. Nyla smirked.

Lucy bit her lip and gave an innocent shrug.

You sipped your coffee, eyes twinkling. “No reason. You just... ever think about getting a full sleeve tattoo, babe?”

“What?”

Angela nearly choked on her gum.

---

When Jack Butler was finally brought into the precinct and tossed into an interrogation room, the group gathered behind the two-way mirror—Tim included.

Jack leaned back in the chair like he owned the place, arms covered in tattoos, a smug grin on his stubbled face.

Tim scowled. “He looks nothing like me.”

“Oh please,” Nyla said. “You two could be twins... if your twin got into a motorcycle gang and stopped doing pushups.”

Angela laughed. “He’s you, Tim. Just... the alternate timeline version.”

You grinned. “So we’ve got Tim... and Dim.”

Everyone cracked up—except Tim.

“Really?”

You kissed his cheek. “Sorry babe. But that was a really good setup.”

---

Hours later, another surprise.

Jack’s girlfriend was brought in.

None of them were prepared for her.

Red and black hair, tight black jeans, heels that could kill a man, blood-red lipstick, a silver nose ring... and a face that could stop traffic.

Lucy’s mouth dropped. “Oh my God.”

Angela blinked. “Is it just me or... does she look like—?”

“Y/N,” Nyla confirmed. “If Y/N went full bad girl.”

Tim, now just as intrigued, smirked. “We need to show her this.”

---

“Hey babe,” you said, walking into the observation room. “What’s with the mystery call?”

Tim pointed at the mirror.

You turned—and saw her.

Your mouth opened. “Is that...?”

“She’s Jack Butler’s girlfriend,” Lucy said.

You stared. “She looks like me. If I got possessed by Harley Quinn and lived at a dive bar.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, smug. “Still think it’s funny?”

You blinked. Then tilted your head. “Okay, you know what? She’s sexy. Dim’s got taste.”

Tim's smirk vanished.

You turned toward him, smirking back. “But you’ve got taste too. I mean—look who you married.”

Angela snorted. “If I wasn’t married and completely in love with Wesley... and Y/N and I swung that way... I’d have stolen your wife.”

“Hey!” Tim glared.

You laughed and slid your hand into his. “Relax, husband. You’re the only Tim for me.”

Tim pulled you close, muttering, “Damn right. That’s my wife.”

Nyla grinned. “Aww. I love a happy ending... even if it started with identity theft and a stolen car.”

[grenadehearts]

between cold soba and back alley kisses.

synopsis: somewhere between the ding of a cash register, premade soba, a lingering headache, and the smell of bleach—you meet japan’s most wanted. on your shift.

authors note: first touya x reader fic, pls he's so loser bf!! fluff so much fluff sorta soft touya?? word count 1.6k, masterlist link here.

You were a cashier at a run-down grocery store, doing anything you could to make ends meet. The place smelled like bleach and expired meat half the time, and the lights above your register flickered like they were possessed. Nothing really surprised you anymore—You were used to the peculiar customers who wandered in the daily—drifters, the half-sober, the too-loud, the too-quiet. But what did catch you off guard was him.

Japan’s most wanted standing in aisle three, in the saddest excuse of a disguise you’d ever seen—black hoodie pulled too low, black jeans, scuffed sneakers, and sunglasses like that would actually do something. He moved like he had all the time in the world, drifting through the aisles, staring at the premade noodle section like it held the answers to his sins. Ramen, udon, soba. He grabbed a few packs of cold soba—enough for more than just one person—and then made his way to your register.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just plopped the stuff down with a bit more force than necessary. The silence felt loaded. Strained. Your gut twisted a little. You weren’t a pro at this kind of thing, but something screamed at you—that’s him. Dabi. Or well… Touya Todoroki. Endeavor’s kid. The same guy who took over every screen in the country a few weeks back, spilling his father’s sins like gasoline and lighting it on fire.

Truthfully, you didn’t care much for Endeavor. Never did.

You started scanning the items, eyes flicking up just in time to see him reach into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled wad of cash mixed with loose change. As he fumbled, the sunglasses slipped from his face and clattered to the floor.

Before you could stop yourself, you were moving—around the register, heart in your throat, hand shooting out to retrieve the flimsy black shades. You straightened slowly, back brushing against the edge of the checkout counter, one hand gripping it for support, the other extending the sunglasses to him.

And that’s when he looked up.

White strands of hair fell loose from under his hood, the black dye fading at the ends. His eyes met yours—glacial blue, clear and sharp enough to slice glass. The same eyes you’d watched staring into the nation’s soul, unflinching, as he exposed the man everyone thought was a hero.

You froze. You knew without a doubt. This was Touya Todoroki.

He took the glasses from your hand, fingertips brushing yours. Then his gaze flicked down to your name tag. His voice, low and rough like smoke and gravel rasped, “Thanks, y/n.”

Your breath hitched.

You turned back quickly, grabbing the soba and bagging it in a blur. “Here,” you muttered. “Just take it. It’s on me.”

He raised a brow. “What makes you think I deserve that?”

You hesitated, looking around. “I don’t know. Just… I think you do.”

He clicked his tongue, rocking back on his heels. Then, quieter, “I know you know who I am.”

Your posture stiffened. “No,” you said too fast, too defensively. “You’re just a customer.”

“Sure,” he said through gritted teeth, amused and bitter. “Sure you’re not scared of me.”

You swallowed. “I’m not scared.”

“And how do you know I know who you are?”

He laughed—harsh, cracked, like a smoker too far gone. “Just knew. Saw it in your body language the second I walked up.”

You glanced away. “Look… I don’t care who you are. I was just trying to help.”

He didn’t respond. Just nodded, muttered, “Alright,”

And just like that, he was gone. But not before slipping something into your pocket.

Later, you reached in. Money. He paid.

He started showing up more often after that. You’d see him on the news before your shift, then in the aisles an hour later. And now, even after your shifts, you found him behind the building, near the old crates and dumpsters, thirty feet from where anyone could see.

Tonight, he was lighting a cigarette with a flick of his blue flames. The smoke curled and drifted toward you as you walked up, making you cough.

His head tilted. “Been waitin’ on ya,” he muttered. Then he held the cigarette out. “Want a drag?”

You gave him a look. “You know I don’t smoke.”

He grinned, all teeth. “Thought maybe I could corrupt you.”

You arched a brow. “Haven’t you already?”

His expression shifted. Then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in—kissed you.

It was the first time he ever kissed you.

Messy. Harsh. Smoke and spit and something desperate.

You almost fell back, knees weak, but he caught you. Dragged you down to the ground with him, lips never parting. It was the first time he kissed you. And maybe it was wrong, maybe it was dangerous, but you didn’t care. Not when it was him. Not when you saw past the villain—saw the boy who never got held, only hurt. A boy broken by the hands of a man everyone called a hero.

That was enough to make anyone snap.

And now, here you were, on your knees, his mouth pressed to yours like he was trying to take something from you—maybe comfort, maybe forgiveness, maybe just the illusion of something soft in a world that wasn’t.

And with every encounter—every soba purchase, every lingering glance, every half-joke hiding real pain—you knew your first instinct had been right.

You were falling for Touya.

You still called him Dabi. You didn’t think he was ready for anything else. Most of what he said was sarcastic anyway—a shield made of sharp words and mockery. It was easier to joke about tragedy than confront it.

Finally, he pulled back. Breath ragged. Eyes lowered.

“Now I have,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

And that’s how you started dating Japan’s most wanted. Except, to you, he wasn’t “wanted.” Not evil. Just a man. Just him—the man you loved. Not the headlines. Not the scars. Just someone hurt, and hurting, and trying.

As the days dragged on, so did the back-alley grocery store dates—shadows and neon signs, muddy combat boots and scuffed sneakers brushing under dim light. Those nights bled into mornings spent sprawled across your bed in your too-cozy apartment.

He's there now. Face buried in the warm space where your chest melts into your stomach. His boots—caked in mud and ash and whatever else followed him home—lay abandoned by the door, one toppled over, the other still upright like it couldn’t decide whether it was staying or leaving.

Your flower-shaped lamp glows golden in the corner, petals casting soft shapes across the walls. Sunlight peeks in through slatted blinds, slicing stripes across his exposed skin, from his loose white shirt slipping off his shoulder. His jacket's somewhere—maybe draped over your kitchen chair, maybe forgotten in the hallway.

The TV hums with some idle sitcom, volume low. Just white noise to quiet the thoughts inside his head.

He’s bathed in that rose-pink glow, strands of white hair falling messy across your skin, tickling you when he shifts. He smells like smoke and faint lavender, like the detergent you use and the night air you kissed into his hoodie when he left last. He looks beautiful like this. Soft. Free.

But you know he’s not. You know he won’t be—not until he ends the war with his father, the one he’s fought for years in silence and screams. But you pretend. And maybe, in some small aching way, so does he.

He shifts again, lazily, one hand sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin—that warmth grounds him, makes his heart remember how to beat whole.

Then he looks up. Blue irises like shattered glass and sea glass and sky all tangled in one glance. He blinks slowly, like he’s surfacing from a dream. But there’s a weight behind his gaze. You feel it before he speaks. Something's been gnawing at him—clawing inside his chest, waiting for the quiet to be spilled into.

He only ever bares it like this: nose tucked into your stomach. Cheek resting against your softness. Voice hushed, truths spilling in murmurs, never louder than your breath.

He’s told you everything this way. How he got here. What he plans to do. How the man who made him never truly fathered him. How the name everyone fears was never his choice. You know his real name. Though he’s never given you permission to use it. Not yet.

It’s sacred. A wound. A reminder.

But now, he stirs, something unfamiliar tightening in his shoulders—he’s nervous. This man—this villain who burns cities, who bathes in blood and rage—he’s nervous. And somehow, it’s the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen.

“Y/n…” His voice is quiet, rasping into your skin, a vibration more than a sound.

You hum, hand threading through his icy locks, gentle.

“Want you to call me Touya.”

You still. Eyes blinking open, lips parted but frozen. “I… I thought— I mean, isn’t that—doesn’t it hurt to hear that name?”

He moves before you finish. Rising over you now, shifting until one leg slots between your thighs, the other bracing beside you. You’re caged in, breath caught.

He’s staring. Blue eyes boring into your soul like they’ll find their place and stay there.

“No,” he says simply, but the word is heavy.

He leans in, pressing into the crook of your neck—his favorite place to hide when the world gets too loud.

“Not when it comes to you,” he murmurs, softer now. “Wanna hear you say it. If you say it, then it’s not tied to them. It’s just… me.” He pauses. Breath hitches. “If the girl I love says it… then I won’t hate it anymore.”

Touya is all bite and burn in the daylight—sarcastic kisses and half-truths wrapped in smoke. But here—when he's wrapped in you, pressed skin to skin—he lets it all fall away.

Here, he bares his teeth—rotten and real and trembling.

And you love him like this too.

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[theshiniestgemstone]

gideon’s preaching and hears screaming from the back. it’s his daughter, mid-meltdown. he sighs and says, “that’s my kid.” the congregation laughs.

It was one of those rare, golden Wednesday mornings when everything felt like it was clicking into place.

The lighting was perfect. The room was packed, and the energy in the room buzzed with anticipation. Gideon stood tall in front of Prayer Room 314A, a little flushed from nerves, but calm. Steady. His voice strong and warm as he spoke.

He was preaching, and it was going so well. He'd finally found his footing and confidence.

You were in one of the middle rows with your daughter in your lap, gently rocking her from side to side. She was squirmy. Only two years old and already inheriting every ounce of her daddy’s fire. Her curls were wild and damp with sweat from fidgeting against your chest, her little hands full of a mangled bulletin and a sticker sheet that had long lost its stick.

From the very back of the sanctuary, Jesse and Eli sat side by side, watching with two completely different kinds of pride. Jesse in his usual bouncing-legged, “that’s my boy!” way, while Eli simply watched with the smallest smile and both hands folded neatly in his lap. He hadn’t said much before the service, just placed a hand on Gideon’s shoulder in that heavy, grounding way he always did when he was proud.

And Gideon?

He was killing it.

“Faith isn’t about the parts of the road we can see,” he said, voice building in quiet conviction, “it’s about trusting the path even when it’s hidden. Even when the light don’t reach all the way down.”

You smiled softly, heart tugging as you watched him. He was glowing. There was no other word for it. Confident. At home. Alive in the moment.

And that’s when it happened.

“Daddy!”

The scream echoed like thunder across the room. Gideon flinched slightly, blinking mid-sentence.

The congregation stirred. Some chuckling, some shifting and twisting around to see the source.

You were already halfway to standing, cradling your wriggling, red-faced daughter who had finally had enough of staying still and decided to make her feelings very known. Tears welled in her eyes, tiny legs kicking as she reached toward the front like he was the only lifeline in the world.

“Daaaaaddy!”

Gideon sighed, a soft chuckle behind the sound as he tucked his hands into his pockets. He looked out over the room, then toward the back where Jesse had visibly lost composure and was openly laughing, elbowing Eli like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“That’s my kid,” Gideon said, smiling crookedly. "Sorry, everyone."

The room erupted with laughter.

He held up one hand and gave a sheepish little shrug. “Sorry, folks. She’s got… excellent timing.”

The laughter softened into warm chuckles and a few affectionate “aawww”s. Someone near the front even said, “She just wants to hear more!”

You were trying to soothe her, bouncing gently, whispering reassurances into her curls, but she was full meltdown now, only one person in the world would fix this.

Gideon caught your eye, gave a little nod, and waved. "I think my wife's takin' her out."

“Sorry, everyone,” you muttered, more to yourself than the crowd, as you tried to keep her wriggling body upright without knocking her tiny skull into the edge of the pew. You started to turn, already calculating the quickest route to the side door without making eye contact with anyone. Laughter rippled through the sanctuary again. A few knowing nods, a couple of whispered “God bless her”s.

But before you could get more than a step down the aisle, Gideon was already coming toward you. He walked straight down the center of the sanctuary like it was nothing, like it wasn’t mid-sermon, like he didn’t have half the town staring at him.

Your daughter’s cries hiccuped the second she spotted him.

“Daddy!” she sobbed again, reaching out.

“I got her,” he said, voice soft and sure as he took her from your arms with practiced ease. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay now?”

She sniffled and clung to his shirt, instantly soothed by the familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his embrace. You exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for ten years, stepping back and brushing your hair behind your ears. “She’s all yours, preacher man.”

He gave you a crooked grin. “Ain’t she always?”

Gideon adjusted her on his hip with one arm and reached into the inside pocket of his blazer like a magician preparing to pull off a trick.

You blinked. “Gideon, please tell me you didn’t-”

“Course I did,” he said, already holding up a cherry sucker in shiny red cellophane like it was the Holy Grail. “You think this is my first rodeo?”

The congregation chuckled again, watching him pop the candy open and hand it over with a wink. She grabbed it immediately, all drama forgotten, and sucked on it with the kind of focus you wished she gave anything else in life. He set her down, steadying her as she clung to his leg.

Gideon turned back toward the pulpit and gave your arm a gentle squeeze on the way by. “Thank you, baby.”

You mouthed, good luck, as he returned to the stage, now with one small, soothed barnacle trailing behind him, sucker firmly in mouth.

With a casual confidence only someone born on a church stage could manage, he pulled a spare chair from the wings and sat it just behind him, a little off to the side. He helped her climb up into it, adjusted the hem of her dress so she didn’t trip, and whispered something in her ear that made her nod solemnly.

Then he turned, stepped up to the center, and smiled like nothing had happened.

“She said she promises not to yell again. Well, long as I don’t talk too much,” he joked, making the crowd laugh again.

Jesse nearly fell out of the back pew.

Your daughter swung her legs and quietly enjoyed her candy like a tiny VIP guest while her dad finished his sermon, and somehow, miraculously, she didn’t make another peep. Just sat there, legs swinging, head tilted as she watched him with round, reverent eyes.

Like maybe he was magic, after all.

The final “Amen” echoed, and the crowd stood clapping and murmuring their way toward the doors. Gideon didn’t even have to gesture. She slid off the chair, sticky hands outstretched and he swept her right back into his arms.

“You did so good, baby girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She beamed, mouth red from the sucker. “You did so good, Daddy!”

You were already walking toward them with her diaper bag, your expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “She’s gonna want to do this every week now.”

Gideon gave you that lazy, crooked grin. “She can. She’s better than half the youth group.”

“Preacher’s kid,” Jesse said, walking past and clapping Gideon on the back. “Sucker in one hand, the Word in the other. Daddy's gonna eat this up.”

And sure enough, Eli was already on his way over with a rare softness in his eyes and his arms open for his great-granddaughter. She reached for him happily, and Gideon passed her over before turning to you and letting out a long, exhausted breath.

“Okay,” he said, eyes still on you. “Now I need a sucker.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “You get a kiss instead.”

He grinned like a fool the whole rest of the morning.

[dogsohavoc]

Rope Play with Pure Vanilla <3

Content warnings - Male sub, restraints, oral sex (male receiving), slight dubcon

“Mm- I didn’t think… this would be something you’d like, Y/N”

Perhaps asking you why you kept rope underneath your bed was a mistake. Truthfully, he’d been worried you were up to some… other unsavory activities.

But he would have never imagined something like this.

Feeling so vulnerable, it wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with. His body— every movement was tight, restricted. Every mere shiver worsened the feeling, as the thin, red, rope further constricts against his skin. An art dedicated to restraining someone? Pure Vanilla Cookie had never heard of such a practice.

And yet, why did something like this… make him feel so hot?

The ropes forced his legs wide, holding one open so every part of him was left open to your gaze. And that's what you did, simply just…

Watch him.

Take in how his face flushes further with every bite into his skin, breath quickening as a particularly cruel length tightens under his thigh.

His body was forced to yield, legs forced wide with one tied up just below the knee. He could see the artistic intent; the expression, but being treated like this? Like his only purpose was to be seen– to be admired.

The unkind pressure only exacerbated his yearning. He aches for you, to be touched by you. Can’t you see how much he needs you? His cock, left long neglected and weeping all over itself at the mere thought of you taking him in your hand, stroking him gently like you always do.

Even as he whined for you, as he breathily begged, you were completely apathetic to his suffering.

His body was so conditioned to your pleasurable touch, he was hard from the moment you first bound his wrists. But, even as his hips twitched forward with every tightening of the rope, you hadn’t so much as acknowledged him… only uttering small directions to move his body how you needed.

Normally, he might have been put out by being ignored so blatantly. But in a situation so terribly titillating with his sweaty body on display, it intensified his arousal immeasurably.

Precum leaked out of him so heavily it had begun to seep into the rope, and that's when you reacted.

“You’re making such a mess, Nilla. This rope was expensive, you know?”

“I-”

He inhales sharply as you press your foot into his thigh, the one that rested on the mat, and so *so* close to touching his poor cock. Muscles locked up– everything within him begged for more contact, to buck up and pray that his most sensitive place even *grazed* against you.

“Mm-! I’m sorry...”

His voice sounds miserably… sticky.

“You’ll make it up to me though, won't you, Pure Vanilla?”

“Yes! Please, I just need yo-”

You cut him off with a click of your tongue.

“Patience. You’ll get what you want, but first, I have a little something I want.”

You reveal something from behind you– a little polaroid camera. The glint of it is more threatening than that of a blade… surely, you couldn’t want that?

“I just want a couple photos! Nothing much, and they won't be seen by anyyyyone else,”

He can't help but shake, muttering out a shaky ‘okay’

“Good boy!”

There’s no time for him to sputter at the pet name before you’re once again guiding his body.

Tilting his hips up and urging his back to curve tastefully, till he was in the perfect position to show off every part of him.

How the fat of his raised thigh compresses under the crossed patterns of rope, how his nipples contrast so beautifully against the vibrant red… how his lips part, the peek of his tongue inviting- no, begging you to claim them. You captured it all with a click of the camera.

He feels airy inside as you examine the photo so critically, as though it were a piece in a museum.

“That turned out perfect… you wanna see?”

His throat clicks as he swallows. Panting so much had made his mouth dry.

“Y-yes.”

It…

It’s hard to believe this was him.

Seeing himself positioned so lewdly, yet in a poised manner that would not be out of place within a renaissance painting, felt foreign.

But…

His teary eyes flicker down as a tiny spark wriggles up his spine. His dick twitches against his thigh, flinching from the slight bite from the movement. It felt sensitive enough that he feared he wasn't far from an orgasm.

You weren't as merciful as Pure Vanilla, though.

A spiderweb of knots had been tied over him, curving over his chest and framing his sternum in a diamond. The method you’d used meant that every mere twitch would constrict his body further. He’d been squirming so much in his restraints you could barely fit a finger underneath now.

“You’re beautiful like this ‘Nilla,” you breathed, earning a pathetic sounding whine from him.

You're tracing the knot that framed his chest, pulling it tightly to watch how the entire rig dug into his body from such a small adjustment.

“But I think you're even prettier down here…”

His whole body locks up when your finger taps the very end of his tip– thigh muscles involuntarily spasming. His breathing grows heavier and heavier with each slight circle over his tip. It was so wet, so slippery, that your index slid over him smoothly.

You're getting worked up yourself, circling him gently and squeezing, feeling how well he filled your palm.

“Oh!” He puffs out from deep within his chest, startling you into yanking your hand back.

All of a sudden, he's squirting all over your retracted hand, mouth gaped and eyes blown. He was completely silent, like the breath had been stolen from him… he didn't twitch or writhe against the bonds either.

Witches, did you ruin it for him?

His dick is twitching like crazy, even as the last bit of cum dribbles lazily from him. It clung thickly to the backs of your fingers, stringing together when you rubbed them against each other in disbelief.

“You– ‘Nilla? You alright?”

He sniffles once, body still locked up as though it expected more, before letting out the most pitchy whine you’ve ever heard from the man. The poor cookie has gone from breathless to hyperventilating within moments.

“Please… It- ‘sso much–”

The ropes are tensing, pulling, as he wriggles against the bonds. He came, so how is he… still so hard? It’s flushed a deep umber, now glistening wetly from the remnants of his semen.

“I know dear, but first, are you okay?”

It seems like it takes all of his brain power to hum out a crackly ‘Mmhm’.

You chew your lip… his cum was starting to drip down your wrist.

Well, he gave you all that so why not put it to use? It's so so wet as you wipe his own cum off onto him. It forces out a choke, his eyelids crinkling from the overstimulation.

Taking it slow for him, you lean down and kiss around his thigh, licking up the salty mess that had dripped over it. His taste– salty with just the slightest Vanilla highlight– stuck to the back of your throat thickly.

He gives another broken whine, tilting his hips forward so his dick bumps your cheek.

“Please– Witches! Your mouth, I need it-”

It was hard to not acquiesce when he begged so prettily for you. The heat between your thighs told you to make him beg harder and harder… but your heart couldn't take breaking him down any further.

You were fighting not to melt yourself as you pressed your lips to his sticky tip. He was completely coated in precum, the tang washing over your tongue.

Dual tone eyes cracked open the moment your lips parted around him, a sob heaving from his chest. Slowly, you slid him deeper into your mouth, feeling superheated on your tongue.

He's silent. Breathless. Completely overwhelmed, tensing as his tip bumps into the soft palate of your throat.

Pure Vanilla is all you can taste, all you can smell. He looks positively wrecked. All shreds of sensibility had been torn away with his ruined orgasm. You start to pull back after the tiniest little gag that sets him shaking. He resists your departure with just the barest, twitchiest little bucks, but he still falls wetly from your mouth.

Kissing along the length of him, you stare up at his weak expression. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he visibly pulled and twisted against the restraints despite how tightly they bound him. You quietly asked him if he wanted to be untied- but there was no response besides a weak twitch of his hips.

It was easy to fall into a quiet rhythm, gently sweeping your tongue over the most flushed part of him, then grinding him against the back of your throat to feel each bead of pre coat it with every lave. All your attention is on him. Nothing else matters to you besides watching every single spasm.

The attention seemed to almost bring him to tears, and you honestly didn’t know how much longer the rope would hold on with how much he was yanking on it. You worried it was cutting into him, but he gave you the greenlight with every quiet question. So you continued pleasuring him leisurely, kissing all over him torturously to stave off the satisfaction of being buried in your throat.

You’ve pushed him right to the edge, watching him clench his teeth with the sheer overstimulation, but you’re not ready to let him cum yet.

‘It's just too fun messing with him~’

You smile while giving him one last peck- to which gives the most defeated moan you’ve heard as the largest wad of precum yet flows past your lips.

Before you can consider pulling away, you hear the most terrible tearing sound, then suddenly your face is pressed to his pubic hair, forced to choke on his cock.

Scrabbling at him proves ineffective as he starts to pulse within your throat- Witches, he’s cumming. It’s hard to fight back nausea and tears as you try to keep yourself settled. Your shoulders creak- he’s holding you down so hard!

The rope holding up his thigh had obviously torn… you couldn't look up to see with your current faceful of blonde hair.

Your tongue is pinned to your teeth with how much he fills your mouth, barely able to swallow around him as loads of cum start to flow down your esophagus regardless of how you felt about it. He’s continuing to tense, shoving your head down tighter and tighter with every heavy pulse you felt. Spit had long started to dribble down your chin, thick rivulets of his cum splashing out when your throat seized in its best attempt at coughing.

Witches. Your stomach felt so full already. How did he have this much left to give? He already covered your wrist earlier, and now…

You felt a painful twinge in your belly. This must be karma for all the teasing.

He gives one more heavy grind to your face, freezing up at the crux of the grind, overwhelmed as he realises what he’s done to you. The encompassing weakness was starting to take over his body. So, all he could muster was a flustered ‘Oh dear-’ as he freed you from his prison.

It was almost jarring how fast you tore off him, gasping for air, then coughing as you subsequently inhaled something you shouldn’t.

“Oh my-! I’m so sorry. I don't know what came over me.” He frets, crossing his leg over his dick for what modesty he could manage while watching you clear your airways. You were a complete and utter mess. Cum, spit and snot completely covering your cheeks and chin, the start of a pounding headache, and an absolutely soaked pair of underwear.

Panting and grinning like you were hysterical, you regard his worried expression.

“Let's do that again. Next week.”

You coughed again, watching Pure Vanilla go through the several stages of grief right before your eyes.

…You’d need time to recover first, but Witches you were gonna have fun with him.

[angellily920]

Sideline Hearts (Ch.2)

Pairing: John Walker x reader (College AU)

Word Count: About 1.1K

Warnings: None

A/n: I love dialogue, so bear with me.

Ch 1/ Chapter 2 /Ch.3

The sun was bright. A little too bright. You fiddled with the lens of your camera and took a few practice shots. You walked the field, determining where the best shots might be taken. It wasn't long before some of the football players filed onto the field for warmups, and you narrowed your eyes to scan the players. They looked focused as they did some drills. You sat on the bench and clicked through the settings on your camera.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" You shut your eyes and took a breath as the voice crooned behind you. You set your camera down and turned to where John was standing with a giant smile. "I thought you said you wouldn't be caught dead at a football game?"

"I'm not dead for one...also..." You tap his chest. "I didn't plan on this."

He chuckles, his eyes falling to where your finger meets his chest. "Karma at its finest. Though I can fully say it's in my favor."

You glance to where the other players are running, and you quirk a brow. "Shouldn't you be warming up oh great football captain?"

"I thought it would be polite for me to check on the lovely lady at the sidelines." John looks you up and down briefly before settling on your face. "You might be a fan girl, so I brought a pre-autographed picture." He holds up the laminated picture.

The laugh escapes before you can stop it. "I can't believe-...do you just carry those around?"

He shrugged, his shoulder pads moving up as he did so. "Maybe I just did it for you."

"Doubt it, honestly. Were you born with a giant ego or did you pick it up along the way?"

He squints his eyes as he looks around the field for a second, pretending to ponder your question. "Hm, is it an ego? Or just pure confidence?"

"Ego, for sure." You pick up your camera and sling the strap over your neck. "But I'll make sure to get your good side."

"My good side? Princess, all of me is a treasure to behold." He flexes dramtically and you roll your eyes. His tongue wets his lips and he runs his fingers through his hair smoothly. He watches you for second before flashing a smile. "You know...I have a challege for you."

"And what is that?"

He steps closer and you could feel the heat emanating off of him. He smells like fresh grash and a hint of something else you can't place, but you knew he'd be smelling like a gym bag by the end of the game. He hummed deeply before speaking. "I bet I can make you fall in love with football."

"Oh really? I'd love to see that." You take a step back, and you tell yourself it's because you need to take a picture of him and not because his scent and closeness sent your mind into a spiral. You lift your camera and snap a quick shot of him. He raises an eyebrow and you just smile. "For the fans."

"Ah, I see. Well, princess, I'd love to chat more, but I have a game to win. But I'll talk to you after and talk about that little challenge."

"We'll see about that. Good luck."

"Luck ain't got nothing to do with my winning streak." He winks, slips his autographed picture into your camera bag and runs off to join the others in warm-ups. You just shake your head and try to hold back a smile.

~~~~~ The crowd was screaming. Literally. You knew people loved football, but this was a bit excessive. John had just thrown a beautiful pass to Lemar, who then made a touchdown. You snapped some pictures quickly as the event unfolded. Your football knowledge was limited, but as you watched, you had to admit there seemed to be a dance to each play and John seemed to know each one by heart. He moved swiftly, and might you add, elegantly for someone of his stature.

You tried to capture the game to the best of your ability, but everyone seemed to move so quickly, and it was much different than your usual theater shots. You hoped the essence of the moment was there. The game seemed to end before you had even realized any time had passed by. Your school won, 37 to 25. You clicked a few pictures of the team as they cheered and headed back to the locker room. You figured you could slip away before John could talk to you, but he must have known what you were thinking because he tossed the football to you.

"Hold that for me while I go change." He ran off before you could protest, and your eyes may have strayed to the way his football pants clung to his backside.

When he returned, he lifted up his hands. You threw the ball, hoping the ball would hit him harshly. He caught the ball with ease and raised his eyebrows. "Someone's got a mean throw. I better be careful, they might make you quarterback."

"Alright John, cut the crap. What's this challenge?"

The ball shifted in his hands. "You don't know squat about football."

"And?"

"How are you supposed to capture the true feelings of the game if you don't even know what the heck is going on?"

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "And your proposal is?"

"I teach you about the game, you get to take some better shots, and you come to love football." He tosses the ball back to you. "And maybe in exchange you can help me out in Calculus."

"Oh, I see. Mr. Hotshot isn't great at everything?"

"Every man has his kryptonite. Come on. You'll enjoy it. And if you don't end up loving football, you can choose how to publicly humiliate me."

That caught your attention. "I definitely can't pass that up." You thought for a moment before sighing. "I'm gonna regret this, but deal."

John smiled and pumped his fist in the air. "One more thing." His blue eyes stared into yours for a moment, causing your knees to go slightly weak. "You have to promise not to fall in love with me."

"Did you just quote Nicholas Sparks?"

He laughed softly and ran his tongue over his teeth. "And if I did?"

"I'll admit, I'm mildly impressed. I didn't think you knew how to read."

A breath of air escaped his chest. "Very funny. But seriously…you're gonna love football. First lesson tomorrow morning. 7am, I'm pounding at your door."

"Alright hotshot." You grasped his hand in a firm handshake. What did you get yourself into?

Taglist: @puer-aurea Let me know if you want to be added!

You can also find my story on Archive of Our Own under Hailhydra920!

[er1nne]

hi! i’m the anon who requested a new part for “the interview with drew goes viral”. you actually posted it on my birthday, so i’m sending you a huge thanks, really.

i absolutely loved it and i also wouldn’t mind if you wanted to turn this into a series too hahah.

the two of them 🥺🥺🥺 i love that drew is going to the coffee shop after her, would love to see how their relationship grows! i’m in love with them and with the you you write. thanks again!!!

hope you’re doing well, have a nice weekend xxx

another run in with drew ♡

part one, part two, part three

author's note: love how this had become a series lol, also series masterlist coming soon. give me ideas on what you want to see, your wishes are my command

(do not copy or plagiarize, original work)

You haven’t seen Drew since the coffee shop. No texts. No calls. No accidental likes on Instagram stories. Just that strange little moment—quiet, simple, unexpected—followed by nothing but silence. A silence you didn’t have time to question, at least not out loud.

Work swept you under fast. One interview turned into five, turned into twelve. There were red eyes and red carpets, layovers that bled into morning glam, emails marked urgent that weren’t, and endless voice notes from your assistant reminding you to drink water or, God forbid, actually sit down and eat. You’ve been floating from event to event, mic in hand, pretending the whirlwind is normal.

And maybe it is. Maybe this is just what success feels like when it comes all at once.

But somewhere in the back of your mind—between camera flashes and client lists—you still think about that coffee. The way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the lid. The way he looked at you like you were someone worth pausing for. Not performing for. Just… seeing.

You never followed up. Neither did he. So maybe that’s where it ends.

Until now.

You’re back on the red carpet, badge clipped, mic wired, heels biting into the carpet just enough to remind you to stand tall. Another night. Another venue. Another lineup of stars and stylists and agents crowding every inch of the step-and-repeat. Ironically enough, for a Drew Starkey interview. Even when you can't make time to see him personally the universe has a funny way of putting you two together. Meant to be? who knows.

You try not to think too hard about it—don’t give it weight. You’re here to work. You’re here to do your job. Not to chase the what-ifs of a man who left your texts untyped and your mind way too occupied on nights when you should’ve been sleeping.

Still, your fingers tighten around the mic just slightly as you read down the list of arrivals. Tom Blyth is slotted ahead of Drew. You know Tom. He’s warm, low-maintenance, the kind of actor who gives thoughtful answers and makes your job easy. You ground yourself in that—small wins. Familiar rhythms.

Your team gives you the signal, and you step forward into the chaos of flashbulbs and pre-show nerves. The cameras sweep toward you and Tom as he arrives, his publicist giving you a nod. You settle into the interview, asking your usual questions—questions you could probably recite in your sleep by now. He smiles, laughs, says something about the director’s process. You nod, respond, push the conversation where it needs to go. It’s smooth. Effortless. Just how it’s supposed to be.

Your heels click into place on the press line, the carpet beneath you plush but just unstable enough to remind you you’re balancing on borrowed time—and four inches of designer expectation. The noise is a hum—paparazzi flashes, producers shouting cues, the murmur of industry air kisses and small talk no one really means.

Then you see him.

Tom Blyth moves through the crowd like it’s parting for him on instinct. All charm and movie-star ease, dressed in something sharp and tailored, the kind of suit that looks effortless but costs more than your entire monthly invoice report. The lapels lie just right, the fabric catching the camera flashes like it knows it’s being watched. He carries himself like someone who’s used to being looked at—and knows exactly what to do with that attention.

When he stops in front of you, the grin he offers is the kind you feel—not just see. It’s practiced, yes, but not fake. It lands with just enough weight to leave a mark.

You hold your mic steady and smile back, but the energy shifts the second he opens his mouth.

“Well, well,” he says as he stops in front of you, eyeing your mic, then your face, “didn’t expect to see the best-dressed person here holding the microphone. Shouldn’t you be on this side with the rest of us?”

You smile, professional but just shy of bashful. “Careful, Tom. Keep sweet-talking me like that and I might start charging for compliments.”

“Go ahead,” he says, laughing. “As long as you let me expense it under ‘networking.’”

He winks, and you try not to let your shoulders tense under the cameras. “Let’s talk about the film, yeah? You’ve worked with some heavy hitters this year. What drew you to this script?”

He leans in slightly, enough for you to catch a trace of his cologne—something warm, amber, expensive. “Besides the fact that it gave me a reason to show up and see you again?” He pauses, grin widening. “I liked how human it felt. Honest. Flawed. I’ve been chasing those kinds of roles lately. But this one hit different.”

You nod, genuinely engaged, your mic lifting instinctively. “Do you think audiences are ready to see you in something that vulnerable? Or do you still like being everyone’s golden boy?”

“Depends,” he says. “Would you still like me if I wasn’t?”

Before you can even come up with a reply—witty or otherwise��a voice cuts through the noise, low and unmistakably familiar.

“Now he’s trying to steal my favorite interviewer.”

You turn.

Drew stands just behind Tom, casual but calculated, hands in his pockets, eyes trained on you like he’s trying to read the punchline before you’ve even delivered it.

Tom steps back half an inch, amusement flashing across his face. “Well, didn’t know I was stepping on any toes.”

“Not toes. Just territory.” Drew’s tone is light, but the message is there, coded in the way his eyes flick to you, then back to Tom like a reflex.

Tom glances between the two of you, catching it. “Didn’t mean to step on anything,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “Or anyone.”

You force a smile—tight, professional—and tilt the mic toward Drew without looking directly at him. “We’re all friends here. Right?”

“Sure we are,” Drew murmurs, eyes still on you. He doesn’t blink when you finally meet his gaze. He just lifts one brow slightly, like he knows something you don’t want to admit out loud.

Tom excuses himself down the line, sensing the shift, and you don’t blame him. The moment he walks away, the noise around you fades into a blur. Your crew’s still watching. Cameras still pointed. But all you feel is him.

Then he leans in closer—like he’s adjusting something on his suit, like he’s letting you fix his mic—but his mouth is right by your ear.

“Long week?” he asks, voice low.

Your breath catches before you can stop it. You don’t turn to face him, just nod slightly, lips pressed together. “Busy.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Too busy for coffee, huh? Maybe dinner works better instead.”

You slightly hold your mouth agape with a surprised smile decorates your face. You swallow hard. He’s not wrong.

“Sure, it that will make it up to you.”

"How about tonight? If you’re not busy after the premiere.”

You pause. Then add— Then: “There's not a such thing as 'too busy'. It’s a date, then.”

The words fall out softer than you expect, almost natural, and the moment they land, both of you flinch—just a little.

“Promise.”

That gets him.

He doesn’t smile—but something in his expression shifts. Softens. You feel the shift in his body before you see it—his shoulders ease, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s forcing stillness. He doesn’t smile, not exactly, but something in his face unlocks. Like your words knocked the wind out of him for half a second.

And then—

You turn your head. Just slightly. Just enough for your mouth to hover where his had been.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, breath warm against his skin. “Are you the jealous type?”

He goes still. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink. Just still.

One beat. Two.

And suddenly it’s like everyone around you vanishes. The press. The handlers. Even the cameras seem quieter. Because anyone watching now sees it—the way his hand flexes at his side. The way your smile lifts just barely, slow and knowing. The air between you buzzes, hot and thick and impossible to ignore.

Then you smile for the camera—tight, sweet, unreadable. “We’re rolling, Starkey. You ready?”

He pulls back, expression unreadable. “Always.”

You lift the mic, voice smooth. “Drew Starkey, star of tonight’s premiere, joining us now…”

And just like that, you fall back into the rhythm. But your pulse is nowhere near calm. And neither is he.

And just like that, you’re back on script—two professionals, poised and polished.

But your pulse is nowhere near calm.

And his? His jaw ticks once. His eyes don’t leave you.

But this is anything but far from over.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part VII

Word count: +4100

Warnings: mention of violence, angst and fluff

Part VI | Part VIII

When I calmed down and all the tears had dried, I found myself following Viviane down the long, silent hallway without any doors, mostly immersed in the dark shadows. The air here was so chilly that I could see my own breath. I tugged my fur cloak closer, my fingertips already red and tingling. We passed a few windows, however, the view was blocked by one of the massive mountains behind the castle. I had no idea where we were, as we had to descend several floors and then we ascended an old and narrow spiral staircase, but this floor seemed to be on the same level as my chambers. Looking around, nothing indicated that we were heading to the quarters of the future High Lord nor that the beloved son of the owner of this castle lived here. This part of the castle was completely secluded, forgotten even.

"We are almost there," Viviane glanced at me over her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

I only nodded. My heart pounded in my ears and a lump rose in my throat. We walked slowly, yet I was heaving and cold sweat rolled down my back. If I could, I would rather run away and hide somewhere until the storm was over, but Viviane had given me an ultimatum. If I didn't tell Kallias about my step-brother, she would do it. It was hard to say which option was worse. One way or another, today my husband would find out about reality of my life, the secret I didn't dare to share even with my own father, afraid that his heart wouldn't make it through.

"Here we are," Viviane came to a stop in front of the tall, carved double doors made of nearly white wood with silvery veins running through it. At first, I thought it was just paint, a top-notch piece of art that had no equal, but looking closely, I realized the wood was only coated with a thin layer of lacquer and nothing else. I had never seen anything like that. Viviane noticed my raised eyebrows and lightly touched the cold surface.

"It's made from a rare tree, the kind that grows only in one very sacred place here in the Winter Court. Nobody except the High Lord and the chosen maiden who takes care of it, can enter there. They are also the only people who know its location."

I nodded again. Normally, I would love to hear more about it, but now wasn't the right time. Viviane sighed and pressed her lips together.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, and I really hope you won't hate me for this, but he needs to know. It's for your own safety.."

"I understand that.." I wanted to tell her more, to ensure she knew that I didn't hate her, but the lump in my throat grew larger, cutting off my voice.

"Kal will take care of things. I'm sure he won't be angry. Well," she rolled her eyes, "he most likely will be mad - of course he will - but not at you, because you did nothing wrong. He will understand, just.. give him the chance."

I clenched my chattering teeth, gazing at the door. I felt tears gathering in my eyes and tried to blink them away. I didn't want to cry in front of my husband. The things that I was about to tell him, were embarrassing and mortifying enough.

"Oh, dear," Viviane sighed and pulled me into an embrace. She gently rubbed my back. "Everything will be fine, I promise."

She held me a bit longer and then released me, taking a step back. Looking into my eyes, she nodded resolutely, more for herself than me. Without giving me time to prepare, she knocked on the door, opened it and pushed me inside. I gasped, shielding my eyes. The room was so bright that my eyes needed a moment to adjust. Meanwhile, the door softly clicked behind me. There was no way back now.

Still squinting, I looked around. This sitting room was slightly bigger than mine. The large desk with stacks of aligned documents occupied most of the space, while shelves of books decorated the walls. It was nice and clean, everything organized, yet it seemed cozy thanks to the crackling fire in the hearth, small pillows and other decorations and paintings placed around the room. It was such a blend of workspace and leisure area.

And there was no one except me.

I awkwardly stood there, unsure what to do. Viviane said that Kallias was always in his chambers at this hour, so where could he be? As I took a deep breath to clear my head, a pleasant scent tickled my nose. It was crisp like freshly fallen snow, masculine, with a subtle undertone of sweet vanilla and I realized that it was his scent lingering in the air. I hadn't given it much thought before because I had always been too nervous or focused on something different, but it was quite a pleasant scent. A balm to every wound. A smell I'd love to be enveloped by for the rest of my life.

'I should stop thinking like that. Seriously,' I scolded myself. All this could possibly lead to, was only disappointment and a broken heart.

To the right, I noticed another door and decided to go closer, the soft carpet muffling my steps. The door was ajar, so I peeked in. All I saw was a corner of the bed and the tall mirror, exactly same as the one in my room. Kallias' bedchamber was a mirror to mine, all the furniture, bedcovers and decorations a duplicate of those I already knew so well.

I backed away, not wanting to be too rude even though there wasn't anyone who could see me. The room was silent anyway, there was no way he was inside. As I helplessly twirled around, a slight swirl of the curtain caught my eye. The windows were closed, however, the glass door to the balcony was slightly open. I stepped outside, tugging my cloak closer as the freezing cold breeze took locks of my hair and played with them. I carefully walked over to the stone banister with posts, everything covered in snow and ice.

The balcony was situated on the southeast side of the castle and the view was slightly different from the one in my chambers. The whole city spread out before me in all its glory, the streets lined with buildings stretching along the mountainsides. From this angle, I could also see the waterfall and the route leading from the city beyond it. It was so beautiful that for a moment, I forgot my purpose and the cold, and just gaped at it in awe.

The snow creaked and I almost broke my neck as my head snapped in the direction of the sound. The breath hitched in my throat at the sight.

Kallias was there, sitting on the banister between two pillars, his long legs swaying above the gardens deep below. He wore only trousers, a piece of fur wrapped around his hips. He was gazing into the distance, completely unaware of my presence. I couldn't see his whole face, but from what was visible, he looked sad, like someone pondering whether to jump or not.

Dread twisted my insides as he adjusted his position, sitting even closer to the edge. The pulse drummed in my ears and my mind went blank. Without thinking, I ran to him and embraced him from behind. His body was freezing cold. At my touch, he slightly jerked and twisting at the waist, he looked down at me. Kallias inhaled sharply, his eyes widening.

"Y/N..?"

I squeezed him even firmer, my arms trembling with exertion. "Please, don't do it," I pressed my forehead to the hard muscles on his back.

"What exactly am I not supposed to do?" he chuckled lightly.

"Jump.. Don't jump.. Please.. If there's something I can do to help, I'll do anything. Just, please, don't jump." I didn't even know when exactly I started crying, hot tears falling from my eyes and rolling down his back.

"Hey, hey," he cooed softly. The Winter Prince effortlessly broke free from my hold, and swaying his long legs over the banister, he fully turned to me. He pulled me to his chest, holding me close. His heartbeat was strong beneath my cheek and his skin slightly warmed up. "I'm sorry I scared you, dear. You see.. this is my favorite place to relax and think things over. I would never.. jump."

He held me like that a bit longer and then gently pushed away, his cheeks a crimson red. He chuckled nervously and crossed arms over his naked chest, realizing he didn't have a shirt. He seemed to be flustered.

"So... is there something you need from me?"

Reminded of the reason of my invasion into his private quarters, unease took over again.

"Are you all right?" He stood up, peering down at me. "You paled all of a sudden.. Did something happen? Are you unwell?"

"I-It's about my step-brother.." Better to go straight to the point than prolong the torment, yet my body wasn't very cooperative.

"I'm listening," was all he said, frowning.

"I.." I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to say the most important part - the one I had practiced over and over again as Viviane led me here. "Could you send him away?"

His brows shot up to his hairline. "Why? I thought you two were close. Did he tell you something you didn't like? Did you have a fight?"

I swallowed hard, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. I couldn't look him in the eyes. I thought I was prepared for this conversation, yet my lips stayed sealed, refusing to utter those horrible things.

"You can talk to me about anything," my husband whispered, encouraging me to confide in him.

My heart hammered so hard that I almost didn't hear him. Recalling Viviane's assurance about his kindness, I breathed in and closed my eyes, forcing the words out.

"We aren't close at all. He's been harassing me ever since he and his mother moved in and since my last birthday, it's been getting worse."

I waited, but silence was the only answer. When I couldn't take it any longer, I dared to peek at my husband. He stood there like a statue carved from ice, staring down at me. His powers swirled beneath his almost translucent skin like snakes, his eyes gleamed dangerously, all traces of the usual kindness completely gone. His muscles strained to the point of bursting as he tried to keep himself in check, the knuckles of his clenched fists white. He was furious, so unbelievably enraged that the tears filled my eyes again. I subconsciously curled into myself, awaiting his outburst.

"How far..? How bad is it?" he pushed through clenched teeth. His cold eyes roamed over me, stopping on my wrists as if he could see the almost healed bruises and frostbite hidden under long sleeves.

My lower lip quivered and I took a step back. He was so scary right now. I hugged myself with trembling hands. Seeing it, Kallias let out a long, deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I scared you again." It still wasn't his usual calm tone, but at least he didn't sound so frightening anymore. He took a hesitant step forward, his hands reaching out to me. "Could I touch you?"

I nodded, trembling. His arms slowly wrapped around me. He gently tugged me to his chest, resting his cheek on top of my head as his other hand soothingly rubbed my back.

"I'm so sorry you had to suffer in silence all alone. I should have noticed it," he sighed heavily. "If only you had told me sooner.."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed.

"Don't apologize, dear. You did nothing wrong. It's that perverted pig-" he stopped himself, taking a few deep breaths to contain his rage before he continued. "Leave it to me. I'll take care of it. You don't need to worry anymore."

"Viviane was right," I murmured between loud sobs. His words.. they took a significant burden off my shoulders, the one I hadn't even realized I carried all this time. I even dared to wrap my arms around his waist while he slightly rocked us from side to side.

Kallias said nothing, but he held me tighter. We stood on the balcony while the cold wind danced around us until I stopped crying and trembling. Then he took me inside, holding me close, and we curled up on the sofa near the crackling fire, warming up our stiff limbs. I felt ashamed of my tears and even more ashamed for being so close to a young male and willingly touching him - that was something new for me. Yet strangely, if it was the Winter Prince, I didn't mind his closeness. I felt really safe with him, despite knowing so little about him so far.

It was about an hour before lunchtime and I was already drained. Thinking about everything that had happened to me since the morning, I unknowingly grabbed the front of his shirt that had magically appeared on him as we sat down. His big hand covered mine, untangling my fingers from the fabric, only for it to be replaced by his thumb.

"I heard you went to visit the new bear cub the other day. Knut is the name you gave him?" he whispered into my hair, clearly intending to make me think about something less traumatic.

"Uhm, yes. Shouldn't I..?"

He made a disagreeing sound that vibrated through his chest. "That's not what I meant," he said softly, running his hand down my spine. "Aurora was happy to get to know you. She mentioned that she and her son hope to see you again soon."

"You met her?"

"Hmm, I went to check on her this morning. They are both doing fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. The cub is so cute. It was nice to be able to play with him."

"You can go see them anytime you like. I, Viv or any guard will gladly take you to the den."

"Thank you."

He definitely knew how to scare the dark thoughts away. A comfortable silence spread between us. Curled against his chest, I listened to his calm heartbeat. My gaze wandered to the clock above the hearth. I'd been here for quite a while. Maybe I should excuse myself and leave. My husband was certainly busy, yet he was too considerate to ask me to return to my rooms. He was usually the first to excuse himself, but this time, I was the one lounging in his chambers. Pondering, I gnawed on my lip and wiggled around.

"Everything alright? Do you feel uncomfortable?"

"Yes.. I mean no, this is.. quite comfortable. I just thought that maybe I should leave.. You certainly have a lot of work and I'm wasting your time.."

"Nonsense," he chuckled. "Actually... I hoped to spend more time with you. Just the two of us.. to get to know each other better.. It's been on my mind ever since we talked the last time. I mean really talked. You know, the time you told me about your condition."

"S-sure." My cheeks were burning and I wasn't the only one flushed. Even though I didn't see his face, judging by the red spots on his neck, he felt the same way. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"If you don't mind.. could you tell me more about your life this time..? I mean your relationship with your stepmother and her son. If you don't want to talk about it, it's absolutely fine.. But someday I'd like to hear it.."

I held my breath, pondering and meanwhile, his heartbeat sped up a bit. Today, I already told my friends about it and they didn't take it well. How would Kallias react upon hearing it? Would he be even angrier than he had been moments ago when he learned the truth about Zima? It wasn't an easy decision, but this was a chance that might never present itself again. Better to get it out now, so I wouldn't have to touch on the topic hopefully anymore.

With small breaks, I gradually told him the same story I had shared with my friends, more concise at times because going into details was too much. He quietly listened from beginning to end and I was grateful that he didn't interrupt me and even more that I didn't have to look him in the eyes as I spoke. By the time I finished, he heaved, his hands with white knuckles lightly shaking as he held me firmly. He was trying to keep his rage in check.

"And your father knows about all this?" His voice was strangely hoarse, restrained.

I sat up, gazing down at him in terror. "He doesn't.. He can never find out about it! It would kill him. Please, promise me you won't tell him."

The Winter Prince watched me, considering it. After a while, he sat up and nodded. "I promise. But I can't guarantee that I'll be able to control myself around them." He infused so much hatred into that single word that I shuddered.

A shiver ran down my spine as his powers swirled in his irises, making them gleam dangerously. When he regained control of his rage, he began telling me about his travels to the other courts to lighten the mood. We were interrupted only once when maids brought us lunch. Kallias didn't mind, though, and continued while we ate and even long after that, showing me small souvenirs he had brought back. All his stories were fascinating. Imagining the places he described in detail, my eyelids grew heavy. Exhausted by everything that had happened in such a short span of time, I fell asleep listening to his deep, smooth voice and heartbeat.

I woke up in my bedroom, wrapped in warm blankets. While I was asleep, the shadows grew longer and the sky outside the windows was painted with hues of pink and orange. I blinked, confused. How did I get back? The last thing I remembered, was Kallias telling me about his visit to the Night Court and its famous Starfall celebration. Did he carry me in after I fell asleep?

Rubbing my eyes and yawning, I sat up, letting my legs dangle from the bed. My gaze fell on the empty stand in the corner near the tall mirror. While I was away, Millie had cleaned up the vase shards, scattered all around. My heart picked up, thrashing in my chest. I inhaled slowly and exhaled deeply. My husband promised to take care of everything. It should be okay from now on.

Millie, always the curious one, asked me at least a million questions when she brought me dinner. She had been worried when I didn't come back even for lunch. It was the very first time I had spent so long alone with my husband and even though the reason for looking him out wasn't ideal, it turned into a pleasantly spent time and I was grateful for it. In those several hours, I learned more about him than in the weeks after the marriage. He was truly a kind and nice person. If only he weren't in love with someone else.. I quickly waved away such thoughts.

After I finished dinner, Millie took the dishes to the kitchen, staying there to help with the cleaning. Not having anything better to do, I pulled the armchair closer to the windows and curling up in it, I watched the lights of the city on the other side of the gorge. Despite having taken a nap, I was still tired, slowly drifting away when an urgent knock sounded. Before I could answer, the door flew open and out of breath Millie stormed in.

"Something happened?" I was immediately awake.

"You won't believe this, Milady," she heaved. "I ran here as soon as I heard it." She rubbed her chest and sank onto the sofa near me, leaning over the armrest. "I was helping with cleaning, when the servant assigned to your step-brother returned with the untouched dinner. He said that the young master invited Lord Zima for a walk later in the afternoon and nobody has seen your step-brother ever since then."

I inhaled sharply, covering my mouth with my hand. All kinds of possible scenarios flashed through my mind. However, only one thing stood out to me and I dreaded voicing it, scared to hear the answer, but I needed to know.

"And Kallias?"

Millie waved her hand. "The young master returned shortly after going out. He looked a bit ruffled, though. He's currently in his chambers, most likely taking a bath. He told his servant that he is tired and doesn't want to be disturbed."

I sighed with relief, a stone falling from my chest. "Thank the Mother.. Do you think he..?"

Millie nodded, her expression grave. "I do. Our young master isn't a bad person nor is he violent, but hearing what Lord Zima did to you.." She didn't need to finish the sentence.

Nervous, I bit my nail. What happened between the two of them? Was Kallias really fine? Wasn't he hurt?

"Anyway, you don't need to worry anymore, Milady," Millie smiled and took my hand. "Everything will be fine from now on."

I was so worried that not even the bath helped to soothe me. An hour after Millie bid me goodnight, I was still wide awake, pacing in front of the hearth. Because Kallias didn't want to be disturbed, his condition was uncertain and I couldn't go to check on him as well. Oh! If only there were someone who knew what had happened.

I turned around in time to see Kallias stepping out of the mirror. He was surprised to find me elsewhere than in the bed, but the corners of his lips curled into a soft smile. Without minding my thin nightgown, I rushed to him.

"Kallias! I was so worried! Are you alright?"

"Ah.." he bashfully retreated, flushing. He rubbed the back of his head, his smile turned apologetic. "So you already heard it."

"Well, Millie didn't know much, only that Zima disappeared after going somewhere with you and that you sent everyone away upon returning. Wh-what happened?"

He was avoiding my eyes. "Nothing is hidden in this castle," he murmured under his breath and sighed.

"Could we perhaps sit down?" he asked me and we moved to the bed and sat down on its edge. Kallias' movements were somewhat sluggish.

Gnawing on my lip, I waited for him to speak. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward, hanging his head. Sighing heavily, he began to speak.

"I.. Today I told you I would take care of the.. problem, didn't I?"

I nodded.

"Well.. I didn't anticipate it would take this turn. Honestly, I planned to expel your step-brother from the court, but when I saw him and that arrogant sneer of his today.."

Inhaling deeply, he straightened up, properly facing me.

"He's dead," he announced emotionlessly. "I killed him. Well, technically, he fell into the gorge while we were fighting, but it's the same. I couldn't even stand to look at that bastard and I genuinely don't feel sorry for what I've done. I would do it again and again if necessary. However, I thought you should hear it from me directly before someone else tells you, but it seems I'm late. I'm sorry."

I clearly saw the moment he steeled himself, awaiting some kind of outburst and while it was horrible news, I was relieved. I moved closer and carefully took his hand into both of mine.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

He shook his head. "Only a few bruises that already healed."

"I'm so relieved to hear that. I was worried, you know."

"I'm sorry."

Even though he said he wasn't sorry for what he had done, it was clear that he wasn't completely okay. Without thinking it over, I pulled him into an embrace, running my fingers through his soft snow-white hair. Eventually, his tense body relaxed and he returned the hug.

"Would you mind if I stayed here tonight?" he murmured into my shoulder. "I won't touch you, I promise. I just don't want to be alone..."

"I don't mind." I surprised even myself when I agreed so easily. I would ponder my behavior later.

For tonight, I just wanted to let go and forget everything bad. And so we crawled under the thick blanket and holding hands, fell asleep.

[tinyraptorhands]

Just A Spark pt. 1

(CW: eventually smut, soulmate au, MDNI)

-Fly away-

The concept was terrifying.

More terrifying than flying halfway across the world.

More terrifying than learning a new language.

More terrifying than living in a new culture entirely.

And suprisingly, more terrifying than finding out you left your bank card back in your home country, in your childhood room.

Well. Thank God for turning over a new leaf and payments by phone.

So what was more terrifying than all this combined?

Soulmates.

Everyone had one. And it was inevitable you would find yours one day. You would share your pain, your life, and your death with them. They would die if you died, and visa versa.

The only way of knowing when you found your soul mate? Well, your parents explained it to you thusly;

"Your father and I met on the train station to New York. My eyes met his, and suddenly a burst of warmth overcame me. It was like I was seeing colors for the first time ever, like noises became amplified and even my nose could smell better." She had said, blushing like a school girl while she recalled it. Your father kneeled next to you.

"Shes right. Its like nothing can stop you from going towards them. Because the stars will make sure you run into them, whether you want to or not." He said, holding up a pinky. Your mother connected hers with his, both their birthmarks matched perfectly, glowing pink. They were shaped like a daisy.

That was another marker. The birthmark one was born with, would be in the same place as their soul mates, with the same symbol or shape. When aligned, it would glow that pretty soft pink-and give each of them a feeling of pure euphoria.

You looked down at your little foot. You had just gotten your mark at ten years of age.

It...looked like a...star? No, like a burning star. A spark. Your mother said it was beautiful.

And you hated it.

Hated having to be tied to someone. To share their pain, their very heartbeats. All aligned to you by some invisible fate.

Well, you weren't going to stand for it.

That day, you made a vow. You wouldn't ever let some random god or the universe fuck with your future!

So, you did research. Most, if not all soulmates found themselves in their own countries. This meant if you traveled overseas, the likelihood of you running into said soul mate would be next to nil.

Perfect.

So, your little ten year old hands scrambled to the computer that very same day, and looked up the farthest place you could think of.

Japan.

And with that in mind, you had a goal. Tangible, and possible.

Which lead you to here, in Musutafu airport, waiting for your bag to come off the carousel.

Genuinely, you had gotten into the idea of teaching English. You had wanted to be a teacher since you were young, and this was an amazing way to do it. You were hired at one of the most prestigious private schools in Japan-and it also happened to be a hero school.

U.A. High School.

While you were no hero, you found the open position for their General Studies courses-so there was no issue on that end. When you graduated your University with honors, they helped you get the position squared away.

So. 23 and fresh faced (thank God for hydrating face masks), you beamed as you saw your suitcases.

"Let's go." You said quietly to yourself. "To a new life, and to a new chapter!" You quickly made your way out of the airport, and towards the rows of taxis awaiting outside.

A few hours earlier...

"Ugh. Can't stand boring patrols." Katsuki Bakugo-AKA Dynamight-griped, biting into the spicy curry bun. He was perched on a rooftop with Izuku Midoriya, or rather Deku- who was eating his less spicy curry bun.

"Think of it this way, Kacchan. Boring means everyone's safe!" The green haired man said.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. "Sure, whatever sensei." He smirked. Izuku rolled his eyes. They peered down below at the busy streets, and Katsuki looked at his childhood rival. "Oh, yeah. Heard you found your soul mate or whatever?"

Izuku blushed. "W-well, yeah. It..uh, turned out it was Uraraka the whole time."

"Round cheeks?" Karsuki huffed. "Fuckin' knew it. You two always were googly eyed, even in high school." He said, bored. Izuku blushed harder.

"W-what!? We were!? I-I mean-" Izuku went into full flustered mode, and Katsuki barked out a laugh.

"Good thing I told you to actually wake up and smell the roses, nerd." Katsuki said. "...even though you basically told me to pound sand right after asking you to be a part of my agency before that." He added the last part quietly.

"Kacchan, I can't be a proper rival if I'm working for you."

"...Semantics." The blonde grumbled. Izuku laughed.

"Oh, right! We have a new english teacher coming to U.A. She's going to be a part of the general courses, but Principal Nezu and All Might want me to show her around the campus. Help her get acclimated." Izuku said, smiling enthusiastically. Katsuki rolled his eyes, his mouth full of his bun.

"Thaths Ooh Aye's golden boy for ya." He said, food spittle landing on his pants. He grimaced, wiping the food off. Izuku chuckled.

"Kacchan, I doubt I'm their...'golden boy'." He crumpled up his trash, holding out a hand for Katsuki's own wrappers. Katsuki gave him his trash.

"Seriously? Of course you are. All Might's little successor? Now quirkless boy wonder?" Katsuki deadpanned. Izuku laughed.

"Because all of you bought me this suit. I couldn't have done it without you all-especially you, Kacchan." He smiled warmly. Katsuki huffed.

"Well...it got you off your ass and now you're...eh, useful-I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Kacchan, I'm higher than you in the hero ranks-"

"AAAaanyways!" He got up, adjusting his gauntlets as he put them on. "So you're gonna be wasting time showing some extra the ropes of U.A.?"

"Oh, it shouldn't be too time consuming! She's coming from America on a permanent working visa."

"Oh. So that's why they're makin' ya a little tour guide." He said, pulling down his mask. "Some idiot foreigner is gonna take up all your working time, huh? Probably can't even use chopsticks and think everything's like an anime." He groused, "Just what U.A. needs..."

Izuku threw the trash out on the rooftop waste bin. "C'mon. Don't be like that. I hear she's extremely smart. Very accredited. And fluent in Japanese, of course." He looked over at Katsuki. "You're just mad that I took more time doing extra stuff that doesn't involve this." He gestured to his suit. Katsuki yet again rolled his eyes.

"Please. Whether you do shit with the suit or not isn't my problem."

"You just said before-"

"It just means I'll rank higher than you, dumbass." He smirked, and perched his foot on the rooftop lodge. "Now let's get going. Wanna get home early today."

"Oh!" Izuku came to his side, getting ready to take off, "for that All Might documentary movie?! They're airing it tonight, I'm excited for it, too!"

"N-no! I just wanna get some...me time!" He huffed, "besides..." he looked away. "I got it already set to record."

Izuku smiled. "We'll have to compare notes on it, then!"

"Oi, who takes notes on a movie!?"

The two took off, and Katsuki looked up at the horizon-a plane making its landing dotted the distance.

Just another day in Japan.

-All Clear For Landing-

[prettysatomii]

Treats!

Synopsis : Killua loves to eat, specifically sweets. You work at a small bakery filled with treats. It's convenient for him to come to your bakery and skip the other ones. Not for any other reason…

Killua zoldyck ❦

The bakery would open at 7:30am, and each morning you would be there. Rolling dough, making coffees, taking orders…Not that you minded of course! It was a rewarding job filled with the sweetest customers. The regulars consisted of a variety of old people, little kids, and a close friend of yours, Killua.

Today, you were set up at the register. Clicking away at the numbers and fetching pastries the customers wanted.

“Strawberry shortcake, banana bread, and coffee jelly, correct?“

The lady in front of you nodded along to your words. You smiled at her before moving away from the counter. A hum of words followed after.

“I’ll get that for you right away..!”

After tending to her, you sighed softly before looking back up to the next customer. A smile spread on your face after scanning him.

“Killua, back so soon?”

You slyly laughed as you looked back down at the register.

“Yeah, I just wanted some chocolate” Killua grumbled, turning his gaze away from you and toward the pastries on display. After a moment, his eyes dropped to your apron, lingering on the heart stitched in the center. You brought him back to reality when you spoke, pulling his attention back to your face.

“Hellooo?? What would you like?” You elongated your words with impatience but your smile said the opposite. “I said chocolate, idiot!”

“We have multiple chocolate desserts and a variety of chocolate. How am I supposed to know what you want? You try something new everyday!” You giggled quietly, your hand covering your mouth. Killua got a bit flustered but pushed it aside the best he could. He liked hearing your laugh although he would never admit that to you.

Good thing there wasn't anyone to see your customer service with him. You couldn't be sure that you wouldn't get into trouble for making fun of the boy.

“Did you make anything today?” His words broke the momentarily silence. His tone was different from earlier..perhaps softer? The prior look of frustration was replaced by a calm one. Killua was curious if you had made anything he saw through the glass.

“Most of our pastries are made the same day, Killua,” you replied, brows furrowing. “You know that.” Of course everything in the bakery was freshly made. You could've sworn you told him this before.

“That's not what I asked, did you make any of it?”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze flicking from the pastries back to your face and settling there. You tilted your head in return, a small smile forming before you looked away. With a light pop of your glossed lips, you answered.

“Uhm... yes! Well, I made them last night, but they had to be set overnight, so technically they're finished today. These brownies over here...”

You walked over to the display case, sliding the glass to the side to pull out a large chocolate brownie. He stood on the other side staring at the dessert in your hands. Seriously, you were too good at this. If he had it his way, you’d be his personal baker. His eyes flicked to the white gloves you wore, tiny flowers embroidered at the wrists. Cute.

“I'll take it, how many did you make?”

“I made fifteen, they're all pretty big and very chocolatey. I hope you like it!” You reached below the counter and pulled out a small pink box, quickly folding it into shape.

“That box is pretty small for all of them don't you think?” He raised an eyebrow at you leaning against the counter to watch.

“All fifteen?” You didn't doubt he could eat them all but it was excessive at that. You set the pink box aside and reached for two larger ones, unfolding the cardboard with ease. After laying down a sheet of white paper, you began neatly placing the brownies inside.

Killua rested his chin in his hand, quietly watching. He’d probably inhale them the second he walked out the door. You looked pretty when you were so focused.

—

Gon and Killua went on an adventure for a week. So you didn't see him for a while. However while he was gone an amazing idea popped up into your head. Killua loves chocolate robots right?

The bakery closed early today, 1:30pm. You had asked Killua to hang out after your shift the day prior. The plan was to meet in your usual spot. A quiet, tucked away part of the park where you both liked to spend time together. A large pastry box propped up in your hands as you walked over there.

It was warm outside, the birds were quite active too. Chirping away in the trees. You eventually arrived, slipping through a few trees in the process. Of course, he was already there. His silver hair caught by the sun, a curious smile plastered on his face as soon as he saw the pastry box.

Killua was quick on his feet, suddenly behind you. Looking over your shoulder, “Heyy what's in the box?” He turned his head to look at you. A measly amount away from you. He noticed quickly looking away and back at the box. A faint pink covered his pale skin.

Your grip on the box became a bit firmer when he got closer. Killua noticed the slight change. “I made something for you, just a treat.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders acting like it was nothing. Although you did feel a bit nervous handing the box off to him.

Killua opened the box with ease, having done so many times before. A surprised laugh came from him, you amazed him more everyday. His eyes sparkled as he looked back at you with something warmer.

“You made me a ginormous chocolate robot?! How long did this even take??” He wasted no time trying to bite into it all at once, only to fail miserably. Still, his mouth was full as he mumbled, “It tastes exactly the same too, you really are the best! No doubt.”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching him devour it over the next eighteen minutes. Yes, you’d timed it on your phone. You watched half amused and half worried. “It's not too much chocolate for you?” His hands weren't even dirty, he didn't give it a chance to melt.

Killua shook his head vigorously, “No way, you should make these more often.” He sat down on the bench patting on the seat next to him for you to follow.

“Thank you,” He said softly. He was like a cat, subtly inching closer but acting like it wasn't on purpose. His hand hovered near yours, barely brushing it as he tapped his foot, trying to act casual.

“You're welcome,” You murmured, then curiosity got the best of you. “You pass like three bakeries to get to mine, why not go to one of those?” You looked at him, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“I don't like them,” He shrugged, trying to seem indifferent, but there was something different in the way he avoided your gaze. You bit your tongue but decided to try to push just a little more. What was there to lose?

“Why not?” His response came rather quickly. Almost like it was instinct, Killua didn't have to think about it. “Cause you're not in them.” His embarrassment followed quickly. His face flushed as he shifted like he wanted to disappear into the bench.

You didn't respond, instead you gently laced your fingers with his. That was just enough to keep him grounded.

Killua didn't speak either, but the way his hand tightening around yours told you everything you needed to know.

[moody-alcoholic]

The Missing Piece

Chapter 16 - Night Out

Summary: Ghoap x fem!Reader, throuple. 2.9k words.

CW: alcohol, death, vomit.

AN: this is the first new chapter I am adding to this fic. I wanted to expand a little more from Chloe and planting the seeds of doubt, so enjoy.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

The first place you go when you make it back to the UK is the police station. They want a statement and to fill you in on their investigation. They give you a copy of their report so you can send it to your insurance company. Your TV and stereo was stolen, thank God you weren't renting it out this time.

John kindly gives you the name of a locksmith who will change them for you at a discount. You thank him and Kyle at the airport for everything not just the locksmith. They seem like nice people they’re all close which is good for such a tight unit.

The second place you go is back to your flat. There is still blue and white police tape stuck to the door handle. When you make it inside the place is a mess, Johnny helps you clean while you wait for the locksmith. Simon spends his time pacing around the flat looking in corners of rooms and between your shelves.

“You should install some cameras.” He says eventually. You sigh looking over at him holding the front door open looking at the damage to the lock. It was pried open with something, the police had to drill a temporary lock on the door to secure the flat.

“I don’t need cameras.” You say, besides you would have to take them all down if you were going to continue to rent the place out when you’re deployed.

“I can set them up for you. It’s no bother.” Simon says, you look up at him.

“It’s just a break in. It’s not the best area.” You admit.

“Maybe you should think about moving.” Johnny says throwing a pillow on the sofa.

“I can’t afford to move.” You say. Before any of them can respond you hear Chloe’s voice.

“Simon?” She asks, he steps back and lets her in. She looks winded like she’s rushed over here. She’s still dressed in her nurses uniform.

As soon as she sees you she rushes over throwing her arms around you. You smile hugging her back.

“I heard what happened with Jack.” You hear the break in her voice, her arms squeeze around you tightly.

“I’m okay.” You say squeezing her back.

“I’m going to kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.” She says. You break from the hug and look at her.

“Don’t be silly Clo.” She huffs and looks around the flat.

“What happened?” She asks.

“Someone broke in while I was away.”

“Fuck do you know who it was?” She asks looking over at Johnny.

“Not yet, the police are investigating.” You say. “Cuppa?” You walk past her heading into the kitchen.

“You’re being pretty calm about the whole thing.” She says as you fill the kettle up.

“It’s London, I spend a lot of time away from my flat. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to break in.”

“What did they take?” She asks.

“TV, stereo. I haven’t looked around properly let.” You sigh, the insurance will cover it but you’re not looking forward to the probably months you’ll have to argue with them.

“You’re lucky you it was empty. Could you imagine the negative reviews on Airbnb.” She chuckles sitting down at the table.

“How was your shift?” You ask looking her up and down.

“Long.” She says, you chuckle and hear Simon say hello to who you assume is the locksmith. You bring the kettle over to the table and sit down with her. “We should go out tonight. Get wasted, I could use a break. You definitely need one.”

“I don’t know.” You say, the thought of going out and getting pissed while you’re still on pain meds doesn’t sound like the best time.

“C’mon. Please, we won’t be out long, bit I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again.” She says, she’s giving you that look. The puppy dog eyes, you sigh as the kettle clicks. Maybe having a few drinks will help you sleep, and you do want to spend time with her.

“Okay, only a few though.” You say, she sequels reaching over for the kettle. Johnny sticks his head into the kitchen.

“Tea?” You ask him holding a mug up.

“Fuckin’ brits.” He sighs rolling his eyes and going over to Simon.

______

Chloe picks you up from Johnny and Simon’s flat around 6. They weren't exactly to happy you were spending your first night out drinking with Chloe but they didn’t try and stop you.

“Be careful.” Simon says kissing your forehead as you pulled your jacket on.

“I will.”

“Call us if you need us to pick you up. Or if you need anything.” Johnny says taking his place and running his hands up your arms.

“I will don’t worry, it’s only a few drinks.” You promise him. He nods and leans down to kiss you. You promise them you’ll call them on the way home and leave to meet Chloe outside with a taxi.

You don’t go to a club, instead you find a little bar tucked away with a live band. You said you were going to take it easy but before you can stop her Chloe is ordering shots.

“So you fucking both of them?” She asks suddenly as she slams the empty shot glass down on the bar.

You almost choke on your shot turning to look at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that obvious?” You cough putting the glass down and picking up your cocktail to chase the burn the tequila leaves on your tongue.

“No. But I’m proud of you, they’re both fit as fuck. You’re one lucky girl.” She lets out a sigh sipping her drink. “You chose the easy life.”

“I chose the easy life?” You scoff.

“Yeah, whats easier working London generals A&E or being stuck on a base treating basic wounds?”

“I’ve been to warzones.” You reply.

“You’re safe come on, back to back 12 hour shifts or 8 hour days on an empty ward?”

“Empty wards can be boring.” You say sipping your drink. She chuckles and nudges you.

“Which one gives you more of a rush?” She asks raising an eyebrow.

You chuckle waving the bartender over. You’re going to need more then one shot biased on where this conversation is going.

“What are a shrink now?”

“Thinking about it.”

You laugh.

“No really, I mean it. Pediatric psychology. I want to get out the emergency room.”

You’re shocked but proud you hug her, she hugs you back. You close your eyes pressing a kiss into her neck.

“I’m so proud of you.” You say breaking from the hug.

“Yeah I did a few shifts with psych, I kind of fell in love with it.” She says blushing.

“Maybe you’ve had such a shit childhood you’re trying to make it better for others.” You laugh taking the shot.

“Maybe. I don’t know, I’ll never get a way from my family but maybe I can make it better for others.” She takes hers, theres a change in her voice.

“Clo-”

“Shut up. We’re supposed to be having fun.” She snaps pointing a finger in your face. You see her smile though and smile back. You send the next few minutes keeping the conversation light. You reminiscing about uni and work, you stay away from topics about her family or your work.

She’s more interested in picking your brain about Johnny and Simon.

“Think they’ll ever be up for a foursome?” She calls over the music. You laugh, it makes you lightheaded as your hand lands on her thigh.

“I’ll ask.” You say eventually, she winks at you. It makes a warmth bubble inside you, maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the somewhat near death experience you just had. You squeeze her thigh, maybe in another world if you never ran off to join the army there could have been something between you.

Chloe’s picks up on the vacant look in your eyes and rests her hand on yours squeezing it.

“Let’s get out of here.” She says throwing the rest of her drink back. You not slipping of the stool and wobble as you pull your jacket on. You’re not sure how long you’ve been at the bar for but the sky is dark and the night is cold when you make it outside. It’s a Tuesday night but the street is still busy as you walk down towards the main road.

“Offy?” She asks.

“I’ve got vodka at my flat.” You say recognising where you are.

“Sure you wanna stay there after the break in?” She asks.

“Yeah I might need you to stay over and protect me.” You chuckle, she laughs back looking her arm with yours and you cross the mains street.

“Whats that game? The one where you ask a question then you have to answer it and drink?”

One the way to your place you call Simon and Johnny to tell them you’ll be staying with Chloe at your place. When you get to your place Chloe goes straight to the freezer pulling out a bottle of vodka and bringing it over to the coffee table as you slump down on the sofa.

You want to turn some music on then you remember your stereo was nicked, you sigh instead as Chloe pours the shots.

“Getting drunk?” You chuckle as she sits down next to you.

“No, silly. Like I say ‘who’s better in bed Simon or Johnny?’ and then you tell me and drink.” She says, you laugh.

“Yeah I think you’re supposed to answer or drink.” You say going to pick your shot up.

“That’s boring.” She says picking hers up and you cheers them. You go to drink it but she doesn’t move, you raise an eyebrow.

“Who’s better in bed?” She asks again. You smile and take the shot.

“Fuck,” You squeeze your eyes closed as the thick liquid runs down your throat. “They’re both good in bed.” She chuckles seemingly satisfied with the answer. You reach over to refill the shot glasses. She hesitates before picking hers up. You see a darkness fall on her face.

“If you’re going to be sick I have a toilet.” You joke. She sighs dropping her hand and turning to look at you. You can see a shine in her eyes, you can see the tears forming. You rub her thigh turning so your body is straight.

“Whats wrong?” You ask, your mind clears for a second and you look at her with concern. She sighs looking up at you.

“I think I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see.” She says. You frown moving closer to her, your free hand goes to rub her back as the first tears spill over her eyes.

“When I heard what happened to you in Syria. I went straight back home, screamed at my dad to pull you out.” She scoffs. “Yeah, he wasn’t too happy about that.”

“I was okay. It-” You don’t know what to say, it was horrible but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I want to fucking kill him.” She snaps. “For what he did to you, to me at the party.” She sniffles and you reach over picking up a tissue for her. She takes it a blows her nose.

“I don’t think he’s worth 25 to life.” You say trying to keep the conversation light. She chuckles again. You wrap your arms around her pulling her against your chest. You kiss the top of your head.

“I had Johnny and Simon there. Their unit helped me.” You say after a few seconds of her sobbing in your arms. You start to rock her, your head suddenly clear you feel almost sober.

“What did you see?” You ask after her sobbing dies down. She sighs and reaches forward to pick up the shot glass, she downs it before turning back to you.

“I think my dad’s up to something.” She says “With Jack.”

“Like what?” you encourage her to keep going.

“I don’t know, something military related. I saw papers on his desk about weapons shipments.” You raise an eyebrow, you almost want to laugh.

“Your dads a general, it’s probably nothing.”

“I though that too but they weren't shipments for the US or the UK. It was for Al-Qatala.” You press your lips together, rubbing her back again.

“It could be anything. Al-Qatala have been causing problems all over the place. Your dad was probably using their shipping manifests to try and track them.” You explain.

“Maybe you’re right.” She sighs. “I just. I saw it then next thing I know you’re being questioned by Jack because they think you murdered someone.”

“Yeah. Well, I think Jack had his fun.” You whisper.

“What happened? They said you were in hospital. Did- did he hurt you.” She asks, her eyes filling with tears again.

“No, just dehydration.” You lie, you’re lucky, the only marks he left on you have faded or are hidden by your hair. “I told you. I had Johnny and Simon there. They came because you warned them, you did good.” You don’t know if it’s what she wants to hear but your head is starting to swim again and you want to try and end the night on a positive note.

“He got his ass handed to him.” Chloe says smiling.

“Yeah? From your dad?” You ask smiling back and reaching over for your shot.

“And his. He was like a fucking puppy with his tail tucked behind his legs being bartered by them both.”

“You should have taken a video.” You laugh downing the shot.

“Fuck, I didn’t think of that.” She chuckles. The mood seems to change after that and you spend the next hour going over ways you’d get Jack back if the law was not an issue. You’ve only ever seen Chloe cry a few times, she’s usually so bubbly.

When you’re half way through the bottle you decide to go to bed, you throw some PJ’s at Chloe and then you both climb into your bed together.

“Sleep tight, lightweight.” She says reaching over to turn the light off.

“You too, alcoholic.” You yawn hearing her chuckle before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

_____

You’re woken by the sound of your doorbell. Your head swimming and your mouth is dry. You look over in the bed and it’s empty. Chloe must have already left, you see the PJ’s she was sleeping in thrown on the floor.

The doorbell rings again and the person knocks too calling your name. You wobble over to it and look through the peephole. It’s Johnny and Simon. You frown unlocking the door and letting them in.

“Christ, thank God you’re okay.” Johnny says throwing his arms around you. You break from the hug confused, Simon’s looking around your flat.

“What’s going on. You’re worrying me.” Johnny looks over at Simon who’s coming out of your bedroom.

“Let’s sit down.” Johnny says guiding you over to the sofa. The bottle of vodka is still on the coffee table the ice has melted leaving a ring of water. Simon comes over to stand on the other side of the coffee table. You swallow the lump in your throat, your stomach is doing jumping jacks.

“Chloe didn’t make it home last night.” Johnny says. You nod.

“Yeah she stayed here. I messaged you right?” You say looking up at Simon who nods. Johnny's hand rubs your back.

“Yeah, but thats not the problem.” He says, he hesitates sighing. “She was found dead this morning.”

It almost doesn’t feel real, you want to laugh. “What?” Is all you manage to say, your hands start to tingle, your head starts to swim again and you feel sick.

“What?” You ask again, but you choke on the word, you look up at Johnny, you know he’s being serious.

“They think she was still under the influence when she left your place and fell into the river. Her body was found on the bank when the tide went down.” His other hand comes to rub your leg. “I’m so sorry, I know you were close.”

You don’t know what to say, all you feel is the overwhelming urge to vomit, you try to swallow it down but it doesn’t go away and before you know it your rushing through your flat to the toilet. You heave into the bowl, the smell of alcohol hits your nose as you empty your stomach.

Johnny kneels down behind you, pulling your hair out your face and holding it back. You keep going until there is nothing left but bile. Your heaving turns into sobs as your body shakes against the toilet bowl. You look up at Simon standing in the doorway with a glass of water and a sad look in his eyes.

You sob and throw yourself into Johnny’s arms. You can’t believe it, she’s dead. Your best friend is dead.

“Shh, I know, it’s okay.” He says as he strokes your hair.

It feels wrong, she had so much life. Now it’s gone all because of one stupid night. No, Chloe’s not that stupid, she wouldn’t fall into the river and even if she did she knows how to swim.

Maybe you just want someone to blame other then yourself but, you can’t help thinking back to your last conversation. What if she was right, what if she did see something she wasn’t supposed to see.

Who cares, now she’s dead. She’s dead and you’re never going to see her again.

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