#puzzle pieces that will all click together eventually

[muzzlemouths]

I was doing some re reading and I was curious does dmd Suns “terms of endearment” reflect how he at that moment views/feels about yn?

Like mouse when y/n is sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong and are potential prey to moon, peach when y/n is being sweet/soft for more wholesome fun moments, and doll when sun is seeing y/n as acting/reliving the malls glory days with pretend shopping.

YEAH YOU'VE GOT IT

The first name Sun gives y/n is "Little Mouse", a term that isn't normally used with customers, but y/n isn't a customer — despite Sun's initial instance otherwise — they're an intruder.

The second time it's used is directly before Sun leaves y/n in the candy shop. This is foreshadowing what happens next, and implying that Sun already suspected that y/n would turn around and go snooping again.

With that last sentence in mind, I'll let you take a guess as to what the last instance of him using that name means.

Peach is his go-to, as is anything floral, and Doll is his programmed script resurfacing - that is, it's the name he used with customers most often while the mall was still alive, and using it with y/n is a form of coping with the loss as much as it is a guilty pleasure.

Now, that meaning changes when Moon says it. The first (and only) time it's used is with a condescending tone and malicious intent. Moon doesn't want to relive the glory days. Here, he's mocking the script he was programmed with and making his message crystal clear; you are not safe with me.

[ruvviks]

alana and andrew are the ones who hire cassidy for the job described in this fic <3 far from where the whole story starts but that's where everything starts falling into place

[starsofang]

simon riley x autistic!reader requested by anon! <3 tw: none!

When a certain John Price had recruited you under his own jurisdiction, you were cautious yet excited to be joining a new task force. It was an opportunity you simply couldn’t pass up, and you’d be insane to say no. Price had promised you would fill in the gap that seemed to be missing from their team, and for the most part, he was absolutely correct.

Gaz and Johnny were the most welcoming in the beginning. Price was more the serious type with an occasional bad joke here and then, but all in all, everybody approved of you and had your back so long as you had theirs.

None of them seemed to mind when you’d have days where you’d be talkative on one, and quiet the next. They’d listen to your passionate ramblings on specific topics, or they’d allow you to sit in comfortable silence if they knew you needed it.

There was one person in particular who didn’t seem quite fond of you, and that would be Ghost – or Simon, as Johnny called him on occasion. It wasn’t that he didn’t seem to like you, no. He just seemed distant, purposefully keeping you at an arm’s length and only acknowledging you when necessary.

Johnny had told you not to worry about it, that he’d come around eventually. Simon was impartial to new people and it took him a while to open up.

You did notice, though, that Simon was someone who stared. One too many times, you’d catch those brooding eyes boring into you, as if trying to puzzle you together and figure out where the pieces fit. It would always cause a bit of anxiety to well in you when you’d find his eyes across the room, already locked in on you, and you would find yourself avoiding his stare as soon as you felt it.

It wasn’t until a particular mission had gone bad that you completely shut down. In the presence of your new task force, you had successfully masked yourself as much as possible. But now, when Johnny had nearly been killed, all due to an error in your own judgment, that mask was slipping off and you needed time to let it crumble on your own.

You thought that was all you needed – time. But time proved fruitless as you spent the next few days on lockdown, avoiding all conversation and interaction. Your eyes would stray to the ground, or you’d find yourself staring blankly at the walls of the mess hall with your nails picking at the skin around them from beneath the table.

You didn’t think anybody noticed. After all, everybody was on edge and decompressing from the failed mission, and they didn’t have the focus to see your mind eating you up.

Simon did, though.

He’d seen all the signs, from the way you picked at your nails, to the way you’d consistently tuck your hair behind your ear, even if it was already tucked, and to the way you’d tap your foot along the ground in a repetitive motion, leg bouncing wildly underneath the table during breakfast or debriefs.

At first, none of it made sense to him. He thought it was simple signs of anxiety, and for that, he truly thought that if one bad massion made you close up this much, you wouldn’t last long enough to see a second one. But when he returned to his quarters and searched up all of your stims that he’d taken mental notes of over the course of the week, things clicked.

He didn’t know much about autism. To his embarrassment, you were the first person with autism that he’d actively been around on a daily basis. Everything he’d seen made complete sense, and that last puzzle piece he was trying so hard to fit seemed to fall right into place.

Simon took it upon himself to educate himself. He, too, had his own struggles that not many people had an understanding of, and now that he knew what made sense, he didn’t want you to continue hiding yourself away for the sake of the rest of the team.

It started off small.

When Simon would notice you picking at your fingernails, he’d place a large hand over yours to stop you without sparing a glance in your direction. If he wasn’t there to stop you, he’d silently wrap your fingers up in cute bandages he purchased himself, because he noticed you liked them more than the typical brown ones.

If he noticed you zone out and lose a piece of yourself, where your eyes would find the walls and focus in on them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, he’d gently grab your shoulder with means to snap you out of it and remind you that he was there with you.

At first, you were surprised when Simon began showing you these subtle signs of companionship. He hadn’t shown any interest in you up until this point, but as time went on, you found yourself actively seeking out that safe space that Simon was slowly building for you.

You crawled your way out of that hole you found yourself in and began returning to normalcy; except now, you didn’t feel you had to mask all the time.

When you returned to your rambling moments, your hand would subconsciously find its way to Simon’s, grasping and fiddling with his fingers while you spoke. He’d never pull his hand away, and instead, he’d sit there quietly with his full attention on you, eyes soft and affectionate from beneath his mask.

Often times, when he’d head to the mess hall to grab a snack or a drink for himself, he began to bring you something back as well – cookies, chips, you name it. If he knew you liked it, he’d snag a couple of whatever it was and place it in front of you without a word (and would absolutely ignore Johnny’s childish whines of how he never did that for him).

This back and forth between the two of you didn’t go unnoticed, and when Gaz nudged Johnny when the three of them sat in the debrief room together, claiming that Simon had a crush, he didn’t blatantly deny it.

Simon wasn’t sure what it was he felt for you. He wanted to see you happy, that he knew for sure, but when Gaz and Johnny continued to feed into their teasing remarks, he was beginning to think that, okay, yeah, maybe he had a bit of a crush.

It took him months to even proclaim this confession to you. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, or god forbid you didn’t feel the same way, didn’t want you to close up on him like you had with others before. Being your safe space was something he took pride in, and for a man who had no knowledge months ago on how to approach you in a way that showed he understood, he didn’t want to ruin that.

That wasn’t at all what happened, though. When he had the gall to tell you, you were practically bursting at the seams. Hands moving wildly, feet causing you to bounce with excitement as you eagerly confessed your own feelings for him. He was scared your lips were crack open from how widely you were smiling and babbling on about your affection.

And when he had the chance to kiss you? He did it with so much tenderness, keeping it as gentle as possible, hands only cupping your cheeks when you told him it was okay.

You had never met someone who was so passionate about you, that they’d learn everything about you. He knew your quirks, your hyperfixations, your interests, your stims. He knew more about you than he did himself at this point.

To have somebody cherish you in such a way that they’d go that far for you, even when they themselves aren’t partial to getting attached to people, it was all Simon ever hoped to make you feel, and it was all you ever wanted to feel understood and accepted.

Simon would happily assure you of that any day.

—

thank u for this idea anon!! i really hope it lived up to your standards, i tried to make it as accurate as possible while trying not to make the stims too specific and detailed since i know many people have different ones and that autism is not linear! <3 please enjoy fluffy simon because he’s my favorite

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.2k words summary: shoko-centric, as in it’s written from her pov, based on yesterday’s leaks bc i finally have some hope, simple bittersweet angst to fluff !! he’s coming back trust <3

shoko’s eyes are focused as she works, but they can’t help but drift towards you, taking in your expression—half hopeful and half terrified as you watch her hands critically.

your teeth are digging into your bottom lip— worrying the flesh with bites and nips that are sure to eventually draw blood.

she wants to click her tongue and rub your shoulder in the hopes that you’ll stop looking so stressed. but she understands—after all, her hands are occupied with the most important thing in your world.

satoru’s body has begun regenerating on its own—as shoko had expected when he was brought back to her. her body had clicked into autopilot when that blue haired kid handed him off to her, her brain choosing to ignoring the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her when she saw him pulled away from that death field.

so she could only imagine your feelings in this moment—scared, angry, and yet so hopeful.

because that’s what gojo satoru was to everyone—an embodiment of hope. he had been as such for so many years. she has no doubt that even in death he would be the same.

but despite all that, she wants the blue eyed idiot to wake up already—wants to see his lopsided grin and your relieved face when the two of you look at each other. so all she does is continue to work, because that’s what she’s good at—what she’s always been good at.

working in the shadows.

you don’t say anything to her—you’ve known her long enough not to. shoko thinks back to the thousands of times she’s healed you up after missions, thinks of your sheepish grin when she scolded you for being careless out there. you’ve always been careless about yourself.

she thinks you’ve only ever been truly concerned when satoru was the one who was in trouble.

the two of you were idiots—because while the two of you may not give a shit about your own safety, shoko constantly worried about you both.

so she inhales through her nose, keeping her eyes trained on satoru’s body. “he’ll be fine,” she says, voice steadily echoing around the room. she can feel your eyes on her, feel the studying gaze of them, and oddly enough she relaxes under it.

something so familiar about this all.

she hears you sigh, a nod to her statement, and shoko takes it as a sign of agreement.

it has always been this way with the three of you—too many words unnecessary. at one point in time, it used to be that way among the four of you too.

shoko doesn’t know how much time passes. all she can focus on is the energy flowing from her hands to satoru’s battered body and your rapidly steadying breaths. the silence is not unwelcoming—an odd comfort in the midst of the chaos raging not so far away.

something tilts on its axis when his eyes finally open.

shoko feels like her breath has gone cold, settling low in her chest as she watches him sit up. there’s a brief moment of confusion in his face—eyes hazy as he looks at her. she gives him a pointed stare, not trying to betray her emotions, but the expression is enough for satoru to understand that he wasn’t supposed to be here. the haziness in his eyes clear, and shoko thinks she might be hallucinating because he looks almost apologetic.

and then, his gaze travels past her, to the back corner, and when they land on you shoko can see the puzzle pieces click together. his pupils dilate, lips parting in a sharp inhale as everything finally comes back to him.

you choke back a sob—a sound so pained and shoko almost feels as though it’s cut through her flesh. satoru’s eyes are wild, arms reaching for you before his brain can even catch up. he pulls you against him with reckless abandon, your body folding into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

which, shoko understands, it is.

your arms are tight around satoru’s midsection, head buried into his chest—as though if you let him go he’ll slip away all over again. shoko doesn’t blame you—she doesn’t take her eyes off of him for the exact same reason.

satoru’s fingers remain tangled in your hair—a tremor to them that only the most observant eyes can pick up.

your shoulders shake with the effort of holding back a plethora of emotions that shoko both understands and doesn’t. satoru’s hands smooth down your hair, chest heaving as he shuts his eyes and presses his nose to your temple.

it’s an embrace that shoko is almost proud to see—a reunion that she’s grateful to be privy to.

satoru pulls back a little, hands cupping your face as his eyes dart over your features—wild and bright with life.

“‘m sorry—” he’s saying, voice oddly steady for the way his fingertips are trembling against your skin. “i didn’t—i thought—fuck, ‘m so sorry, sweets—”

“you came back.” you’re whispering, voice unsteady and thick with unfiltered longing. you pull him back into a hug. “thank god. you came back.”

satoru’s arms tighten around you imperceptibly. a featherlight kiss dusts your forehead—barely a touch but there all the same.

shoko smothers an amused huff. it’s about time.

your voice is shaking even with your cheek pressed against his chest. “i thought that you—”

satoru nods against your temple. “i did,” he answers, licking at his dry lips. “i mean—”

a sharp inhale. you pull back to study his face. satoru’s voice becomes imperceptibly softer. “i saw…”

shoko doesn’t need to ask what he saw—she knows it automatically. you seem to know it too.

“it’s fine.” he’s shaking his head, lips quirking upward—his thumb brushes over the slope of your cheek with the utmost care. “it doesn’t matter.”

you give him a rueful smile, eyes uncharacteristically dewy, and shoko thanks her lucky stars that the expression seems to bother satoru just as much as it bothers her. she watches him cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours with an oddly somber sigh. your fingers come up to press against his knuckles, and satoru smiles, eyes fluttering at the touch.

shoko sees the color slowly start seeping back into his skin, an all familiar flush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at you, and her shoulders drop—a weight lifting.

she takes a step back.

satoru makes eyes contact with her over your head. there’s something there, deep within cerulean blue, that has shoko’s body finally relaxing. he studies her, eyes wide and open, and for the first time in a long time, she sees the message in them clearly.

his lips curl upward at her, an expression so nostalgic it makes shoko think she can hear the sound of teenage laughter—a gentle voice whispering about the good and bad of their lives. she shuts her eyes—helpless.

satoru watches her expression, somehow understanding, and he smiles to himself. his chin tips down at her, an acknowledgment of sorts, that has her feeling oddly emotional.

shoko shoves her hands in her pockets, and for the first time in a while, she allows herself to smile.

[applejuicebegood]

The Softest of Jason Todd HCs

Fem!Reader A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW

Masterlist

Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.

Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.

Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.

Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.

This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.

Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.

After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.

He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.

Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.

Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.

Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)

Example:

A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.

[sweetnothingtm]

RUTHLESS// simon riley x reader

pairing simon riley x f!reader

word count 4.6k

content warning rough sex, knife play, degradation, oral sex, the mask stays on!

authors note i hope you enjoy you dirty little freaks. thank you for everything ♡

It’s an honest mistake - really. Had you known any better you would’ve kept it right where he left it.

But you can’t help yourself, lingering just a moment longer to stare at the blade that shines in the light. Its tip was stuck in the wall, the black hilt of the knife worn from use. Soap is calling your name, but you stay put, lip caught between your teeth.

It’s the lieutenants, his initials engraved into it - and you pocket it without a second thought.

You hide it from him like a dirty secret.

At first, you reason that it’s a good knife - a waste of potential to be left in the wall. It’s been polished and sharpened, the tip of the blade pricking into your finger. You had to keep it, you thought. Despite the fact that he would eventually come back for it, eyebrows drawn in confusion at the empty hole where it used to stick. You don’t necessarily use it, but you keep it on you at all times. It rests in your breast pocket, your heart beating against it even now.

A reminder of him. All the little unspoken truths and harbored emotions that you kept from him.

Then you think he could've asked for it back. You don’t admit that you have it, but if he wants it then he’ll try to find it. You have a bad habit to absentmindedly stare at him during briefings, and you notice the empty spot on his vest. It’s a similar shape to the knife.

You’ve been free falling for the lieutenant since the day you met him. Always a little too desperate and eager, you did your best to please. Arriving early for meetings, being the first one up, getting your report and handing it to him finished not a day later. He’d catch your gaze, cocking an eyebrow almost as if in challenge. You’d blush, breaking his stare and shoving down all those months of pining.

He taught you how to aim, how to disassemble your weapons and put them back together, hell- he’d just about taught you how to breathe. A ghost that’s hellbent on haunting the living, he kept you waiting patiently and obediently. You just needed a sign - something to tell you that he sees you.

The lieutenant doesn’t ask for it back. Yet. You’re starting to fall asleep looking at it, eyes half lidded and thumb rubbing over the hilt softly. It flips between your hands under the table at meetings, head in the clouds with your superior storming your thoughts.

The initials are ingrained in your memory like it was branded. SR. You start to carve it in bathrooms, trees, your bed frame. It’s shameful to admit, but having a piece of him is nice to carry. It’s because he’s your boss, the guy whose job it is to keep you alive. You’re just being sentimental for a friend.

Sometimes you wonder if he knows it’s gone. There’s a part of you that hopes you’ll never have to give it back.

Eventually you’re beginning to treat it like it’s your own. You carry it with you like a lost piece to a puzzle. It’s got a spot on the inside of your vest, hidden from his eyes. You let it dance on your skin in boredom, and use it to cut stray threads off you. But you can’t cut the lieutenant loose.

Your eyes are blinking away boredom and disinterest, head hung low as the drowning deep voice of Ghost continues on. It’s late, and you’re tapping your boot impatiently as Johnny and Kyle are making small talk about the stupidest shit.

The knife clicks open and closed, fingers unconsciously brushing against the blade. You really just need a shower and eight hours of sleep, but time is ticking away.

Think Lt will let us sleep in tomorrow?

Not a chance, Soap

Bastard doesn’t even sleep. It’s not fair

You feel like kicking yourself to stay awake. Yawns are bubbling up from your chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. It’s been a half hour since he started talking about procedures, protocols, what to do if blah blah blah. You fiddle with the knife in your hands, glancing down at the initials. Simon Riley. You wish you were in bed, the soft glow of your lamp illuminating your favorite kept secret.

He can tell too, and it’s infuriating him. You’re messing with your hands, lip caught between your teeth as your leg bounces in the chair. You rest your arms on the table, leaning forward and absentmindedly playing with something. Then he sees it, the black hilt that’s worn from the grip of his hand. It’s got the same engraving too, the one he got custom done his first day on the force.

You took it.

Simon didn’t think you’d have it - just a sneaking suspicion. He’s lost it before, usually to find it the next day in his jeans. Yet he saw you leaving, cheeks scarlet as you avoided his gaze. Your hands were shoved deep in your pockets, mumbling soft apologies as he brushed past you and back into the room. It wasn’t there, though.

He missed it. Simon carried it with him everywhere, like it was a part of him. It’s the only knife he owns, always wiping it clean at the end of the night. It twists between his fingers at night, the hilt worn from the palm of his hand. He would lazily flick it open, thumb rubbing along the edge of the knife. He thought he’d find it by now - but there you are, treating it with the same care that he has.

The lieutenant pauses, words trailing off as he stares at the familiar blade. You glance up, catching his gaze with eyes that are dark and heavy. You blink once, twice, straightening and looking down to your hands where the open knife lays. You freeze, the air around you running cold. Heart faltering and chest tightening, you wait with baited breath. Never has the truth been laid so bare before you. His eyes are kept on your face, pinning you in your seat. Does he know?

The lieutenant breaks your gaze, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms. You’re absolutely mortified, shoving the knife in your back pocket and biting your tongue. Johnny looks to Ghost, pausing his conversation with Kyle at the unexpected silence. You’re distracting yourself by looking at anywhere but him, breaths uneven and shoulders tight with anxiety.

Ghost takes a moment to regain his control, mind clouded with the image of you playing with his knife. He runs a hand down the haunting white mask that separates you from him. Still wearing the uniform and gear, his hand rests on the empty spot of his vest as his eyes drag straight back to you.

He has to know.

“Johnny, Gaz - take your gossip outside. We’ll reconvene tomorrow,” he states, leaving no room for questions. The lieutenant breaths a long sigh, head cocking to the side as you blush a deep red. You whip your head to him, standing up straight at the sound of your name. He doesn’t dismiss you. The boys nod begrudgingly, standing up and stretching while grunting goodbyes as they shuffle out of the room. The door swings shut, clicking back into place and leaving you stranded.

It’s just the two of you, a thick and nauseating tension arises as moments slip by in an uncomfortable quiet. Your hands are balled into fists out of anxious habit, nails digging into the palms for your hands. He’s shrugging off the vest, peeling off his gloves and tossing everything on a nearby chair. His bare hands brace against the side of the desk, eyes staring straight through you.

“That’s my favorite knife that you stole,” he says, voice patronizing as you stupidly blink at him with innocence in your eyes. Your mouth opens and shuts quickly, head spinning with all the ways you can lie yourself through this.

“I don’t have it, maybe you lost it?” You say, shifting uncomfortably as he cocks an eyebrow at you. He looks at you as though you’re on fire, burning up with every lie that you feed him. You fumble, shaking your head at him and letting poor bluffs take the lead, “I just bought this one. I got it from a store in-“

“You’re a bad fucking liar.”

You freeze, words stuck in your throat as his voice rings in your ears. You’ve been caught like a deer in the headlights, eyes widening and panic setting in. His fingers drum against the side of the desk, and he almost looks like he’s found his new pet not behaving.

Glancing to the door, you swallow a thick ball of fear. It’s a few feet away, right there and waiting for you to run. Excuses and dishonesty coat your senses, trying to cover up lost tracks as you look longingly to the exit. The knife sits heavy in your pocket, a ruthless and terrible reminder of the fact that it doesn’t belong to you. You should’ve given it to him when you had the chance.

He waits for you to answer, and he’s gritting his teeth every second you stare at him all pretty and dumb - like you don’t know a goddamn thing. Honestly, a part of him feels a little prideful that you kept it in the first place. You intoxicate and torture him, forcing him to keep distance from the forest fire he wants to call home. The lieutenants been waiting for you to spark since the day he met you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, voice struggling to stay even as his eyes narrow at your words. You try your best to remain calm as the lieutenant continues to stare, skin flushed with fear as he shakes his head at you. “You’re a rotten brat, you know that?” He spits, watching with hate as you look away with your chin held high. You won’t admit defeat, not until it’s ripped from you with prying hands.

“It’s got my fucking name on the blade, sweetheart-“ he grounds out, leaning forward as his eyes burn into your own. “And unless you’ve got it branded on you too, I’d suggest being a good girl and giving it back.”

The room is laced with a thick silence while you shiver where you stand. You nod meekly to him from across the table, letting loose an uneven breath. You hold his gaze, stomach churning with months of suppressed fear and unrequited adoration. You speak to him softly, as if your voice is made of truth.

“You left it, and I found it. It’s mine now,”

He laughs at you, the sound hateful and violent in your ears. He pushes himself off the desk where he leans, the mask building a wall of irritation around him. His footsteps land heavy as he’s crossing the room, sauntering towards you with a determined look in his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he states, shaking his head condescendingly at you.

Three steps, and he’s right in front of you. His figure towers over you, face tilted down to look at you. He smells like tobacco and pine, and you notice the spread of ink that peeks out from his sleeve. A finger grazes under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his dark eyes. “Give it back.”

It’s a losing game, and you’re trying desperately to win. You shake your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. No.

The lieutenant drags over a chair, exhaling heavily as he takes a seat. His legs are spread, a hand resting on his thigh as you shake under his touch. He looks away for a moment, as if he’s mulling over something. Tsking softly to himself, he reaches a hand out and hooks it into your vest before tugging you down, “patience is wearing thin, sweetheart. I want it back, now.”

Your breath fans hot against his mask, eyes widening in shock as his grip tightens on you. His eyes are swimming with a haunting rage. The careful distance you’ve kept from his is crumbling, heart skipping a beat to catch up with the lieutenant. He pulls you closer, and you’re tripping under yourself as the mask stares back at you in challenge.

“I’m sorry, sir-” you whisper under your breath, the tip of your shoes hitting his boots as your shoulders sag. “I’m keeping it,” you say honestly, letting the shame wash over you. There’s nowhere to hide, all the time spent trying to get him to see you when you should’ve been running.

“Wrong answer.”

His hand drags you down and over him, knees pressing into your stomach as the breath is stolen from you. His hand finds its place along the back of your head, keeping you down as his fingers run along your back. Head spinning with all the ways in which you’ve been waiting for this, you squirm on his lap and brace your hands under you and on his thigh.

The lieutenants face drops down to you, mask brushing against your cheek. Your mind is blank now, the feel of his hot breath against your skin causing you to freeze. His dog tags dangle over your back, brushing against your shirt. “You should really mind your manners,” he admits, plucking the knife from your back pocket. “You know better than this.”

Your ass hangs up and over his knee, his hand resting along your upper thigh to keep you in place. The blade clicks open, and he lets loose a chuckle as he appreciates it. He flips it between his fingers out of sight, pulling back your hair as it takes place against your throat. Your eyes squeeze shut at the touch, the cool metal pressed against your skin and causing you to shiver.

There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in silence. You count your breaths, biting your cheek and waiting patiently for the lieutenant to make his next move. Apologies are at the tip of your tongue, but fall short as his blade runs along your skin.

A sickening smack lands against your ass, body jumping from the unexpected touch. Desire runs up and along your spine, head cloudy with longing for a ghost in your haunted home. You can feel his hand rub softly into your skin, breath coming loose as he pulls away. “Lieutenant - please, I’m so sorry-”

Another smack, this time harder as it leaves a sting. “Simon - don’t you remember, love? That’s the name I’m gonna carve into your fucking skin,” he spits, digging the tip of his knife into your throat as you nod to him. Heat is pooling between your thighs that rub together in anticipation, lip caught between your teeth as you peel open your eyes and glance over your shoulder to him.

You regret ever having bothered.

He stares at you with a hateful lust, a smirk playing on his lips that are just out of your sight. Simon dips his fingers between your thighs and rubs soft circles, savoring the way you melt under his touch. You wiggle your hips, shifting on his knees and spreading your legs open just an inch. He notices, sending another smack to your ass. “Filthy,” he laughs, two fingers dragging along the wet desire that continues to grow within you. “You’re not even sorry - are you?”

You shake your head, nails digging into his thigh as his fingertips dig into your clit. “I am - I didn’t mean to steal it - I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Simon,”

His name is unexpected as it falls from you, but you say it like it belongs to you. The bulge in his pants is growing, dick twitching at the way you squirm on his lap. All those months spent dreaming of you on your knees is starting to catch up with him, and he just can’t run away. He grits his teeth, the sound of his name on your lips sending him straight to hell. Good thing he’s friends with the devil.

Simon’s hands leave you suddenly, the knife clicking closed and set onto the table. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back until your neck is craned and your eyes begin to water at the pain. “If you really are sorry - then get on your knees and ask for forgiveness.”

He abruptly pushes you off his lap, and you tumble to the ground with your head smacking against the floor. You pull air into your lungs desperately, body recoiling from the shock of being thrown off of him. Hands pushing from under you to brace yourself, you look to him with innocent wide eyes and full lips that wobble in fear. He leans back in the chair, arms braced on the sides as he looks at your expectantly.

Shamefully, you crawl between his legs and sit on your knees. The knife sits alone on the table, watching you mockingly as you blink up to Simon. There’s a wide grin spread across his face, though you’re not able to see it. The mask keeps you from him, a careful distance that he isn’t willing to give up yet.

“I’m really sorry,” you mumble softly, blushing crimson as his hands fall to his belt. “I’m sorry.” He unbuckles the belt, dragging down the zipper as his eyes remain on your pretty little face with eyes glossy from tears. He’s nodding to you, pushing down the waist of his pants until you’re staring at the swollen tip of his dick that’s wet from pre cum.

“I know you are - but I want to see you beg.”

His hand comes to lazily stroke himself, hissing as he squeezes the tip of himself. Your hands gently rest against his knees, chest coiling tight with a familiar ache. You sit there patient, waiting for his approval as Simon jerks himself off. The heat between your legs is burning, heart struggling to keep a steady pace.

Then he gives a small nod, hands drifting to the side as your mouth waters. You lean forward, little lips parting wide. Simon sighs softly as your lips wrap around him, cheeks hollowing and eyes fluttering closed.

Your head bobs in his lap, hand coming to stroke what you can’t take. His hand tangles itself in your hair, guiding your movements slowly. Your tongue dances along his tip, his hips bucking at the touch and fingers tightening their grip. Simon lets his head fall back, waves of pleasure rocking through him at the way you hum against his dick. “Shit, you’re such a nasty slut,” he laughs out.

Lips dragging along his shaft, you take him inch by devastating inch without hesitation. Your nails are digging into his knees, clawing at him to take control as he begins to unravel. His shoulders drop, groans pulled from him when drool dribbles out from your lip and onto him.

Simon watches as you force him to the base of your throat, soft gargling sounds emitting from you. You can’t take all of him, but your hand massages the rest of his shaft, the touch soft and delicate. His head is cloudy with desire, forcing your head further down until you start to choke, tears blurring your vision. He’s abandoning all self control, letting it slip from his fingertips like a thread of gold. Doesn’t matter when you’re on your knees for him, sucking his dick like its the only thing you’ve dreamed of.

“There’s my good girl,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth. You’re humming, bobbing your head yes as you continue to let him fuck your mouth. He feels sick with pleasure, hand pushing you further along his dick until he’s seeing stars.

You’re eagerly on your knees, chest tightening with every moan that fires from Simons lips and aims straight to you. It’s got you feeling confident, sitting up on your knees and licking your tongue along the bottom of him. “Fuck - that’s it, sweetheart,” he grounds out, and you’re pressing your thighs together to stop yourself from dripping. You look up at him, dick caught in your throat and eyes sparkling with obedience.

Your teeth drag along his shaft, causing him to slam your head down. You choke, struggling to pull back and catch your breath. “Bloody hell,” he muses, the pad of his thumb rubbing into your cheek softly. You pull away, lips smacking as you try to control your uneven breaths. Simon watches as you rub the drool and spit from your lips, eyes turning a shade darker when you give him an innocent smile.

“Come here.”

When you stand, his fingers push themselves between your thighs. His hand comes to undo your pants, your lip caught between your teeth as you wait patiently for him. He’s pushed down the hem of your pants, hands coming to grip your waist. You stand there silently, holding your breath when he glances up to you. “Well? Show me how sorry you are,”

It takes you a moment to peel away your clothes, strewn on another chair where his things lie. Your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment as your arms snake around his neck, hesitantly coming to sit in his lap. He leans over to grab the knife, flicking it open again and pressing it against your chest. “Simon,” you breath softly, fingertips brushing along the base of his neck.

“Can you forgive me?”

He shakes his head at you, muttering filthy curses as his fingers dig into your waist. You’ve been waiting for this, soaked through and blind with guilt, you let the tip of him brush against your folds. Simon drags the knife to your throat, watching you with his breath held as you sink slowly onto his dick.

It’s a feeling you’ve only ever dreamed of. He pushes into you completely, heart beginning to falter and freeze at the pure pleasure that spreads between you. Your stomach is tightening, hips grinding into him softly. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, the hold on his knife tightening until his knuckles are white. “I’m considering it.”

It wouldn’t be so bad - to spend the rest of your life chasing after this high.

Hesitation has been tossed aside, breaths becoming in sync as he watches with baited breath as you grind into his lap and mewl out moans.

You pull yourself up with shaking thighs, falling back into him and letting a moan slip past your lips. You bounce on his dick, hips rolling and grinding with his knife pressed against your throat. Disgraceful slick wet sounds are ringing in your ears like a sickening melody. His hands are pressing and pulling you down, his hips bucking up with your movements.

Simon garbs a handful of your ass, keeping you in balance as you ride him ruthlessly. The knot of pleasure is tying itself tight, and you’re whining in his ear from the ecstasy “That’s it - look at you, such a good girl riding my dick.”

“Mm-mm,” you moan, head falling into the crook of his neck as he drags the knife to your chest, letting the tip press against your skin. “Please - please, I’m so sorry, Simon,” you gasp out, tightening your arms around his neck as he slams his hips into you.

His touch is rough and ruthless, impatient with pleasure as he smacks your ass that’s now red with his handprint. His. The thought sends him spiraling, groaning loudly. Simon lets you roll into him, bouncing in his lap with his breath fanning hot against your neck. “Careful,” he laughs against you, fingers traveling to your clit to rub harsh circles. “I just might think you like this.”

And you do. In fact, you’re overwhelmed by the sensational desire that’s boiling within you. Your moans are becoming desperate, nails scarping along his shoulder blades as he continues to fuck you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, practically hanging off of him as he rubs the wet pleasure between your thighs.

It’s just the two of you. His hand is greedily snapping your hips back to him, and you meet the touch eagerly. There’s a fire that’s building within you - and neither of you can smother it out. Your chest is tightening, lips mumbling out pathetic moans as Simon laughs, the sound dark and tantalizing. “You do - don’t you?” He asks, and you’re nodding into his neck with pleas rippling off of you. “I know you do, I bet your pretty little pussy is gonna cum on my dick-” he states, suddenly grabbing your throat and forcing you to look at him.

You hold his stare, mewling out and begging for him as he rubs quickly. You’re losing your sanity, hips eagerly grinding into his lap until a simmering heat takes a hold of you, crying out in pleasure. “Right about now.” He finishes, watching as you smile innocently at him.

He still fucks you though, riding out your orgasm as he chases after his own.

It only takes him another moment until he’s following you, sloppy and lazy thrusts into your hips. Simon is grounding out your name, gritting his teeth and savoring the way your slick cunt tightens around him. His head falls back against the chair, breath hot and uneven as he snaps and slams his hips into you one last time.

Then you’re sitting pretty and patient in his lap, letting him grow soft in you with your lip caught in between your teeth. Your eyes are glossed over with happiness, stomach flipping as he closes the blade and leaves a hand resting against your waist. Seconds slip by in silence, buy neither of you seem to mind. His breath is slowly untangling itself from yours, gaze dark and haunting.

When you peel yourself away from him, shaking hands pulling up your pants and blushing scarlet, he tugs you closer to him. You button your pants, still wet from the way Simon pulled all those dirty little secrets from you like they were his to begin with. He lets his hands slide to your ass, giving it a final squeeze.

“Such a good girl,” he says softly, a smile playing at his lips as you blush deeper. He stands, cupping your face in his hands and looking at you with the same adoration that you’ve given him for months. “I think you’ve learned your lesson - yeah, sweetheart?”

You nod up to him eagerly, the strings of your heart snapping and breaking as he pulls himself from you. “Uh-huh,” you breathe, and you mean it. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, letting his finger commit the feel of your skin to memory.

“Be good for me - get some rest, love.”

He left the knife in your back pocket, and it sits there now - waiting for him to come back.

[ahhnini]

midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader

synopsis - based off this ask!

moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *

word count - 1.4k

warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!

a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3

you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.

“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.

as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.

this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.

you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.

rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.

after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.

topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.

midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.

you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”

both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“do you get free stuff?”

“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.

rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.

this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.

the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.

“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.

“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.

you smile and say your name.

“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.

“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.

“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.

you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.

you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.

the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.

“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.

you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”

“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.

topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.

topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”

“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.

“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.

“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.

“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.

“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”

you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.

rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “that’s the spirit.”

there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?

he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.

he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,

“yes.”

divider by sseuda on tumblr

[tichiox1]

Bill kaulitz☆ headcannons (with nsfw)

Word count:560

Sorry yall i was thirsty and bored

_____________________________

Sfw

☆-When you two met you two instantly clicked like puzzle pieces before you knew it the both of you started to become friends .

☆-Bill started the first conversation (he's chatty ) you were tense and nervous at first i mean why wouldn't you he's Bill Kaulitz!!

☆-The favorite thing you two do together is either shopping or just talking to each other about anything (gossiping).

☆-Bill sometimes ask for your help with writing songs and translating it to english (he wants it to sound good in both!!).

☆-But before you realised it you started to have feelings for Bill , He's always so sweet and nice about everything but he's also a menace .

☆-Bill was the one who confessed , The two of you was just watching Tv and hanging out and he just dropped the bomb and blurted it out .

☆-"I like you" He suddenly said and you were like "Huh" (but of course you accepted but it was very unexpected).

☆-Tom's really happy for Bill ! He sometimes makes jokes that he's not gonna be a virgin anymore infront of everyone which makes Bill flustered.

☆-Bill's public about his relationship with you which makes some fan girls sad and some of them bad mouths you but you don't care (At least you got your mans).

☆-Bill writes songs about you!!

☆-He likes to go on dinner dates with you and watch movies at home after.

☆-He likes cuddling , he doesn't mind if he's the big spoon or little spoon he just wants to hold you.

☆-He makes you wear matching bracelets or rings with him (It's really cute ngl).

☆-Even when you aren't looking you sometimes feel him looking at you and smiling.

☆-Holding hands ✅✅

☆-You sometimes hug him or kiss him before he performs (he gets really nervous).

☆-If you don't like the Paparazzi he'll take off his jacket and cover you with it .

_____________________________

Nsfw

☆-He likes to make out with you after performing .

☆-He's really sweet in bed but also very kinky(Chains , collars , blindfolds , handcuffs , ect) .

☆-He likes to take his time , not that rough but if he's extra sexually frustrated buckle up and get ready.

☆-When he makes out with you there's always tongue if it's heated then expect it.

☆-Whenever you two make out he leaves alot of hickeys like a shit ton of it all over your neck , collarbone , shoulder ect(Mans just kinky like that).

☆-He's a switch don't fight me ,i get that feeling he is , (he radiates that feeling jk).

☆-He likes to grunt , groan if he's really feeling it he'll softly moan .

☆-He likes to eat you out like a full course meal .

☆-When i say he's sweet he really is , when you feel uncomfortable he'll stop immediately and ask you "what's wrong?" "Are you ok?" softly almost a whisper.

☆-Foreplay.

☆-Whenever you two make out he rubs his knee on your crotch .

☆-He wants to make out with you anywhere anytime if you're up for it , against the wall , On the bed while he's on top of you , Just as long as you give him permission it's all good .

☆-He's good with his hands.

☆-If you do want to lead it's fine with him , he doesn't mind .

☆-alot of teasing like alot lot , but he'll feel bad eventually and touches you where you want him too.

_____________________________

Nah bro why did i write this i haven't even held someones hands romantically before what am i doing😦

I was once an innocent gorl just a year ago idk what happened 😭😭

But hope you guys enjoyed and ill write more don't worry (i was also bored when i wrote this so )

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (professor Logan Howlett/Fem student mutant reader)

Click here for chapter index.

Summary: The aftermath of your drunken night with Logan does not go the way you expect it to. Tensions rise, harsh words are spoken, and feelings get inevitably hurt.

A/N: thank you all so much for the kind words and the support! every comment means the world to me, seriously. my surgery went well, it wasn't very invasive but the nitrous gas knocked me out for most of the day yesterday! thank you to everyone who wished me well. this chapter is a lot more angsty than i was intending to write it but i've been feeling pretty icky in my personal life and i think that's just translated into my writing😅 whoops. i hope y'all enjoy tho!

Warnings: smut!! 18+ minors DNI!!!, swearing, ass slapping, unprotected vaginal sex, p in v, dirty talking, car sex, angry sex, slightly rough sex, orgasm denial if you squint, insults, Logan being kinda mean to reader and vice versa

Word Count: 5,118

Chapter 4

A sharp pain reverberates around your skull. Slowly blinking your eyes open, you eventually adjust to your surroundings. You glare suspiciously at the room around you, apprehensive to move. But your head is pounding, and nausea swirls around your stomach. You groan as you sit up, scanning the area for an indication of where you are. The window to your right is draped in sheer flannel curtains, allowing the morning sunlight to shine in, much to the dismay of your hangover. The log cabin interior is sparsely decorated, save for a pair of antlers mounted above a pine dresser, clothes draped haphazardly along its prongs. The space smells of tobacco and pine. Oh god, you think to yourself, your stomach dropping as you piece the puzzle of your night together in your mind. Logan. This is Logan’s house. And you’re in your underwear. Surely you didn’t...did you? Wouldn’t you remember something like that? Would Logan even want to fuck you? Especially with how drunk you assume you were. You’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle, a knock against the door bringing you back down to earth. Logan calls your name gently from behind it.

“I’ve, uh, got some toast, if you’re hungry,” Logan says, a layer of uncertainty in his voice.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you reply, clinging the scratchy blanket to your chest. You gather up all the courage you can muster, preparing yourself to face him, assuming you made a complete and utter fool of yourself the night before. You find your pants on the floor and shimmy them up your legs, searching for a mirror you can fix your appearance in. You find the bathroom behind a door on your left and flick the light on, groaning at the harsh pain the bright light brings upon your headache. Once your squinting ceases and your eyes adjust, you almost gasp at how wrecked you look. Your hair is completely disheveled, smudged black eye makeup making your eyes look sunken in. The smudged makeup also doesn’t help the colorless, pale appearance of your skin. You turn the sink’s faucet on, splashing some cold water onto your face. You’re delusional to think that it will do much to help. You try your best to smooth your hair down with your fingers, taking a deep breath in preparation for whatever you may face in Logan’s living room.

You meekly open the door of his bedroom, scanning the area in front of you quickly before stepping out. His bedroom is situated on the second level of his house, the door of his room leading out to a mezzanine. From here, you can see Logan sat on a leather couch in the middle of his living space, puffing on a cigar. Despite his home having this mezzanine, it isn’t full of grandiosity. It’s lit fairly dimly, the ceiling flat above your head but vaulted above Logan’s. Everything looks hand crafted, with slight imperfections in each cut of wood that sustains the structure of the cabin. 

You walk slowly down the stairs, each step making your head throb. Heading towards the couch, you decide to sit as far from him as you can manage, feeling the most awkward you’ve ever felt around him since you’ve met. He reaches his cigar’d hand towards the coffee table, stuffing it out onto the ashtray that’s already littered with old, dead cigars. He slides a plate of cold toast in your direction before he gets up. You mutter a meek thanks as he walks to the kitchen that’s nestled under the mezzanine. You manage a bite of the toast, hoping it will alleviate your nausea slightly. It doesn’t, but it does feel good to have something in your stomach. Logan returns to the living room and sets a mug in front of you, grunting as he sits back down on the couch. He seemingly has no care with being in your proximity, as he moves closer to you than from where he was before.

“Thank you,” you grumble in appreciation, reaching for the mug of black coffee. Wincing as you sip, you wish you could make that Colombian dark roast without Logan noticing. He doesn’t say anything in response to your thanks, simply nodding as he sips from his own mug of coffee. There’s a loaded moment of silence, neither one of you brave enough to say anything yet. Maybe you did something in your drunken stupor to offend him. Or maybe something happened and he feels too awkward and ashamed to do anything about it. It’s killing you to not know, and causing you to worry even further that something bad might’ve happened. You decide to swallow your anxiety.

“Um, did we..?” you break the silence, trailing off, feeling too awkward to finish the sentence.

“What? Fuck?” he finishes, rather casually, a slight furrow to his brow. His candor made you almost choke on your coffee. 

“Believe me, princess, you were in no state,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, you exhale in relief, glad you didn’t do anything too stupid, “Wouldn’t be much fun that way, anyways,” he mutters into his mug.

A wave of heat rushes to your cheeks. The nickname, the sexual innuendo. Surely that was flirting, wasn’t it? A part of your brain knows this is so highly inappropriate. Your professor got you so drunk the night before that you had to crash in his bed, and now openly flirts with you the morning after. But the other half of your brain wants to know just how fun fucking him would be.

“How much do you remember?” he asks, turning his head towards you. Shifting your weight under his stare, you focus your thoughts, trying to remember as much as you can.

“I remember our first couple games of pool,” you start, looking up at the ceiling as you try and recall further, “I remember splitting the shot of tequila…I remember the lemon drops I made you drink…And I remember....” You trail off, remembering something far worse than a potential sexual encounter with Logan. The man. His body flying across the room from the force of your kick. Logan saw you, everyone in that bar saw you. You need to get out of here.

“You know, I think I should head home actually,” you deflect, trying your best to seem as collected as possible. You stand from the couch, not entirely sure where you’re supposed to go from here.

“Your ride’s still at the bar, you were in no condition, believe me,” Logan assures, standing up with you. He walks towards his dining table and retrieves what you recognize as your purse. He hands it to you along with your shoes, you offer a tight smile as a thanks. “I’ll give you a lift to the bar.”

…

The ride back to the bar has been silent, the only sound being the engine of Logan’s truck growling down the road. Your mind is slowly becoming less and less shrouded to the events of the night before. You recall more of the tension between the two of you, his hands supporting you when you fell, the times he called you princess, the way he bit the lime in half when he split that shot of tequila.

“This wasn’t what I was tryin’ to do,” Logan mumbles, suddenly breaking the silence. You snap your head towards him, confused by what he’s attempting to say.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t tryna get you shitfaced. I just…wanted you to relax,” he admits, turning his head to you briefly before promptly turning his focus back to the road. That wasn’t his intention? Really? You suddenly recall talking to him about how you don’t like clear liquor, yet he still shoved those shots in your face. Sure, you were playing a game. But you were being playful in ordering him fruity drinks as punishment, he made you violently hungover and in a state of delirium.

“Is that your way of apologizing?” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. Logan looks taken aback by your sudden frustration.

“Sorry?” Logan responds, his voice begging offense as his head tilts like a confused puppy.

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary. Great. Apology accepted. I really appreciate you taking responsibility for getting me unbelievably shitfaced on liquor I told you I couldn’t drink,” you sass, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Alright, bub, sure,” Logan scoffs, laughing you off as if you’re no serious threat. Which pisses you off even more.

“I’m serious. Did you honestly think I was enjoying myself puking in your toilet for hours?” you question rhetorically, trying to get him to understand, “Maybe you like being dysfunctional, but not everyone else likes being blackout drunk on their Friday nights while getting into bar fights.” You sit back in your seat and turn as far out to the window as you physically can.

“Hey! I didn’t make you do shit,” Logan counters pointing his finger accusatorially at you, “The whole goddamned game was your stupid idea.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a really good observation, Logan. You didn’t make me do anything. The drunk girl with impaired judgement made a decision and should face the consequences of her actions,” you remark sarcastically, your arms gesturing with each emphasis you make, “Wow, ‘ya sure you’re a history professor? Because you’d be great teaching Date Rape 101.”

“Date Rape 101?” he scoffs, barely coherent, before continuing, “And whose goddamn self defense classes are you taking, eh? Wonder Woman’s?”

You freeze. Unable to form a retort. What can you say? There’s no explanation for what you did last night. It was inhuman.

“What? Got nothin’ to say, princess?” he spat, gritting his teeth. You scoff and roll your eyes in disbelief at his attitude. His car approaches the shallow gravel lot belonging to the bar. Saved by the bell, you think to yourself. He puts it in park.

“Go fuck yourself, Logan,” you bark, your tone low and deadly as you throw the car door open and stomp out. You motion to slam it, but you hesitate when a thought crosses your mind, “And buying your student drinks is extremely inappropriate and against, like, so many code of conducts,” you remark sassily before slamming his car door shut. You fish for your keys in your bag, fighting to not look behind you and watch as Logan pulls out of the parking lot, before aggressively driving away. You growl in frustration once you step into your car, holding yourself back from slamming your head against the steering wheel. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were mad at him or yourself for being so careless.

��

Saturday was spent nursing yourself back to health, doing nothing but laying in bed, doomscrolling on your phone in an attempt to numb your mind from the anger you felt towards your professor. The audacity to put you in that kind of position. You got so drunk you were almost unconscious, you were almost groped by a stranger, and you risked revealing your powers to him and all those strangers in the bar. How stupid were you to believe that you could have a fun evening with someone like him. An abrasive, impolite, selfish asshole that’s incapable of taking any responsibility for his actions. If you feel this way, then why do you wish you stayed in his bed a little bit longer? Why do you wish he made a move on you on his couch? Why do still want him? It makes you want to rip your hair out. How can he have this effect on you? And why him? What’s so fucking special about him that your affections are intertwined with his? No one has ever made you feel this connected in your life. It’s like there’s been an invisible string between the two of you since you’ve met, and it’s so strong that nothing can separate it. You hate him, you do, but you want him. God, you’d give anything to fuck him now. His actions from last night honestly fanning the flames of your desire even further. You don’t know why, you hate his guts right now. It almost seems that in order for you to release your anger and frustration with him, your body wants to fuck. Hard.

It’s gotten to the point where you can’t think about how mad you are at him without getting unbelievably turned on. You just want him to slam you down onto his bed and fuck you into tomorrow, leaving bites down your neck as you scratch red marks into his back. Despite your growing arousal, you’re too tired to want to relieve yourself, opting to succumb to sleep instead. You think about Logan calling you “princess” as you fall asleep.

“You got nothing to say, princess?” Logan spat from the driver’s seat, angling his head towards yours after putting the truck in park.

“Asshole,” you mumble through gritted teeth. You remain fixed on the expanse of gravel road in front of you, lit only by the headlights of Logan’s truck. Logan chuckles in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Logan, you’re a fucking asshole!”

“It takes one to fucking know one, baby, and you’ve been a real mess all day,” Logan retorts, waving his arms in the air in frustration. “It seems whenever you got a problem with yourself you turn it around on me. I’m not a person you can dump your shit onto!”

“I’m not dumping anything! You don’t fucking listen to me!” you scowl, finally turning your body towards him.

“Oh, believe me, bub, if you had to hear yourself half the time I do, you’d understand why I tune you out!”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“You heard me!” Logan growled, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

“Fuck you!” you snap, venom on your tongue and a furious expression on your face.

“Fuck you!” Logan snaps back, sliding towards you on the truck’s bench seat to get in your face.

“Fuck you!” you raise your voice louder than his, squaring up to him, not allowing him to corner you in the car and get the upper hand. Your faces are inches from each other now, your angry pants fanning the other’s face. You can see a shift in Logan’s eyes, twisting from raging embers of anger, to dark and lustful in a second. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to join your gaze again. His lips hesitate between keeping the distance, and floating towards yours, like he’s being pulled by a magnet. You don’t want him, you hate him right now, but god how you want him.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumble quickly before his lips crash hastily onto yours. He swallows you, generously flicking his tongue in and out of his mouth. You tangle your tongue with his, grasping the back of his neck with need. Logan hooks both his arms around you, pulling you as close to his chest as he can manage. With each aggressive nip and suck to your lips, the stronger your arousal swirls within you. You tuck your legs under you, sitting up on your knees, as you push him back onto the bench of the truck. You straddle him, pressing your full weight onto his pelvis and reveling in the feel of his hard cock pressed firmly against your core. His hips buck into yours, hands traveling down the expanse of your body before sliding under the hem of your tank top. You aggressively grind your hips down onto his, causing Logan to growl lowly into your mouth. Your fingers travel to Logan’s scalp, gripping his hair with intensity and ferocity while your other is pressed firmly against his chest for leverage as you continue grinding into him. Your skirt has hiked up almost completely all the way, leaving just your lacy underwear as your only barrier against his jean-clad cock. So preoccupied with his lips on yours and the friction against your clit, you failed to notice that Logan has unclasped your bra and is fighting to pull your tank top over your head. Before you even get a chance to sit up and adjust, Logan loses his patience, using both his hands to rip your tank in half with ease. Any other day, you would give a shit and chastise him for being so careless, but right now, you want nothing more than to fuck the shit out of him. You grab him by the collar and sit him up without breaking the kiss, allowing him the freedom to slip your bra off of you and let your tits spring free.

You fiddle with the buttons at the collar of his shirt, growing increasingly frustrated with them. You decide to take a page from Logan’s book and rip the front of his shirt open, sending buttons ricocheting throughout the truck. Logan growls in approval, pulling you closer to his chest. He breaks the kiss, biting and sucking up and down the expanse of your neck causing you to elicit a guttural moan in response. Logan’s becoming more and more ferocious with his movements the longer your hips grind down onto his. Removing his mouth from your neck, he bares his lower teeth before shoving you back so he’s now sitting up above you. He unbuttons his pants with ease before pulling his cock out, clearly eager to fuck you already. You spread your legs in anticipation, your skirt scrunched up to your ribcage, your bare chest heaving. He reaches for the waistband of your panties and hurriedly yanks them down your legs, throwing them behind him without a care. He barely takes any time to line himself up before he bottoms out into your tight pussy with a growl from his lips. You gasp in a mixture of sheer bliss and sharp pain. Logan hunches over your figure, grunting into your ear as he begins his rapid, hard thrusts into your core. Your moans are high pitched, overwhelmed with the pleasure he brings to your aching pussy.

“Take it,” he growls into your ear before bringing his mouth down to the crook of your neck and biting. Hard. A pained moan escapes your lips. He grunts with each powerful thrust into you, spearing you in half, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Each time he rocks into you, your moans grow more desperate, embarrassingly high pitched. Logan pulls his face away from your neck, maintaining eye contact with you as he brings a hand to your throat and squeezes.

“That’s right, take this cock,” he husks, his voice barely below a growl as he watches you get absolutely wrecked by the way he’s pounding into your pussy. The pressure to your neck makes you lightheaded, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Yes…fuck,” you groan, your words of encouragement being broken up by each of Logan’s hard thrusts inside of you. Logan’s noises are animalistic above you, his teeth bared, his hand squeezed around your throat possessively. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take with his cock stretching and spearing you the way that it is. Just as you think you’re ready to pass out, Logan’s thrusts stutter to a stop. Removing the hand from your throat, he pulls out. You whine at the sudden emptiness, and watch Logan sit up above you, his chest heaving.

“All fours for me, babygirl,” he commands, gesturing to the space behind him for you to crawl to as he lazily strokes his cock. You oblige immediately, crawling past him to the other end of the bench seat. You arch your back in anticipation, gyrating your ass to entice him. He gives your rear a harsh smack causing you to moan lightly.

“D’you like that, princess?” he rasps, the gravel in his voice making you clench. He gives you another smack making you moan more, desperate for him to keep fucking you.

“Logan, please,” you whine, eagerly moving your hips backwards in an attempt to feel his cock against you.  

“You want it?” he teases, you can hear his cocky smile.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, squeezing your thighs together for some kind of friction as Logan gently massages the tender flesh of your ass. You gasp when a hand shoots up to your hair, Logan grabs a fistful and forcefully pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest. From here you can feel the stiffness of his cock against your ass. You whimper, grinding your ass into him as you’re desperate for a release. Logan’s hips adjust, feeling his length prod at your entrance before he spears into you, completely stretching you out. You gasp as he hits your cervix, starting his thrusts slowly before pushing you back down onto your hands. Keeping his hand in your hair, he uses his other hand to grip your shoulder for leverage, before bucking into you hard. You groan, pressing your hands against the car door for support as his pace quickens, his belt jingling rhythmically with the pace of his hips. You almost feel pain from the way he prods your cervix, but his pace is so fast you barely have enough time to register it. Your moans grow lewd and high pitched, the slap of his skin against your ass, the pulling of your hair, his grunting and moaning and panting. It’s all so vulgar and feral. 

“Tell me I’m right,” he grunts, his teeth bared and grip on you tightening.

“Lo-gan,” you grunt, trying your best to form a sentence, but his thrusts move your whole body and you can’t speak when he fucks you like this. He lets go of your hair, bending over you to whisper in your ear.

“Tell me that I was right and you were wrong, and I’ll keep fucking this pretty pussy,” he husks, his gruff voice tempting you as his cock twitches inside of you. God, you want to, but you’re stubborn. You know you’ll never live this down and he’ll continuously hold it over your head for as long as you live. You crane your neck behind you, flashing him a sultry look, fluttering your eyelashes.

“No,” you whisper, pressing a firm hand to his chest and pushing him off of you, his dick popping out of you as he sits back in disbelief.

“No?” he asks incredulously. You spin around situating yourself on the seat as he stares at you blankly.

“No,” you clarify simply, smoothing your hair down and collecting yourself. You find your panties on the floor and slip them on. Logan slides towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck before kissing up and down it. You shrug him off, bringing your hand up to his face and gripping his jaw lightly so he’s forced to make eye contact with you. Eyes flit down to your lips hungrily, like he’s a dog begging for his chew toy.

“We’ll see how long you last without my pussy,” you murmur, letting his lips float just inches from yours, as he’s barely able to resist capturing your lips in a kiss. But you won’t let him.

This is the first time in a week you’ve woken up without an orgasm on your fingertips. You feel quite confused, unsure of what to make of this dream. It was just as vivid as the others, but the abrupt ending didn’t leave you begging for more from him. For once, you’re not dreading his class tomorrow, ready to face him and whatever kind of attitude he wants to throw your way.

…

It’s Monday morning and you approach Logan Howlett’s class with the utmost confidence. What could he do to you? Call you out in front of the class? What would he gain from that? You could just report him to the Dean, hell, you could report him to the president of the university. You could do that now even, but he hasn’t forced your hand yet. His actions today, however, could.

You push the door open, filing in with a few other classmates, trying your best to avoid looking towards Logan at the head of the room. You pull out your notebook, attempting to focus on nothing but his lecture and his lesson plan. No distractions today.

You startle when something is slammed in front of you onto your desk, as if Logan could read your thoughts and wanted to disturb you as much as possible by simply handing you back your essay that he must’ve graded. You avoid looking at him, which isn’t hard considering he walked away almost immediately after throwing the pages on your desk. You huff as you flip the it over, much to your surprise, there’s a huge red zero scrawled at the top of your page. You’re taken aback, trying to flip through the pages so you can understand why he gave you no credit. But he offered no explanation, no notes in any of the margins. Goddamnit, you’re the only person who turned it in on time! You should be getting extra credit for that alone. You try and glare at him, hoping he’ll meet your gaze, but he avoids you with expertise. That fucking bastard. 

You stew in your seat for the rest of class. Finding it almost impossible to focus on the lecture with how much more pissed you are at Logan. What reason would Logan have to be that petty? You did the work goddamnit, he can’t withhold a grade just because you yelled at him. What an immature, insecure, stupid man. You can’t believe you were ever attracted to someone so chauvinistic and egotistical. You’d have half a mind if you didn’t go to the President about his behavior, he shouldn’t be allowed to continue teaching here or anywhere. Not when you’re done with him. And you want him to know that. You want him to feel powerless to stop you from taking his job away from him.

The clock strikes 10 and Logan zips out of class swiftly, you attempt to follow, maneuvering out from behind your row as quickly as possible. You turn out the classroom, spotting him further down the hall. Tailing him through doorways and corridors, you finally find him at his destination: his office. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever he might throw your way. Without knocking, you swing the door open, promptly shutting it behind you. Mimicking his actions from earlier, you slam your essay in front of his face, staring at him with venom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap, your face twisted into a furious scowl.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Logan asks, feigning ignorance, staring up at you with a coldness in his eyes.

“You’re a child,” you scoff, “What, you couldn’t handle getting yelled at so you take that out on my grade?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Maybe you should give that essay again another read,” he remarks as matter of factly as possible, trying his best to hide his thinly veiled anger.

“Bullshit. Fix my grade,” you command, reaching over the desk and shoving the pages closer towards him.

“I’m not fixing shit, now get out,” Logan barks sternly, sliding a drawer in his desk open and pulling out a silver leather-cased flask. He takes a generous swig, barely flinching when he gulps, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you huff in disbelief. A grown-ass man, drinking in the middle of the day while he’s still at work.

“You got a problem, bub?” he frowns at you before taking another swig of his liquor.

“What problem don’t I have with you!?” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “You’re inexplicably nice to me on the first day of class, then you tell me to fuck off half of the time you see me, then you suddenly feel bad for me and take me out for pity drinks where you shove liquor down my throat like you wanted me to get sick! You’re abrasive, you’re bad at your job, you’re irresponsible and I could almost hate you for—“

Something in Logan snaps, causing him to stand up abruptly, slamming his palms flat on his desk before coming out from behind it to get in your face.

“I didn’t fucking ask for this!” he barks pointing at you aggressively, with each continuation of his thought, he steps closer to you, causing you to back away from his advances, “Do you think I want to be in that fucking classroom everyday, reading from a bullshit textbook with bullshit facts…Lecturing half-drunk, spoiled, rich, asshole 20 year olds who could give two shits about what I have to fucking say!”

You say nothing, letting him back you into a corner with each sling of curses and frustrations he barks at you. You can’t help the tears that well in your eyes as he gets closer and closer to your face.

“Don’t even get me fucking started on this shy, timid wallflower act you put on every day! If you think you’re fooling everyone with that performance, then you must be too goddamned stupid to be here! Stop wasting your time; wastin’ everyone’s goddamned time! Do us all a favor, pack up your bullshit and leave before you push someone else through a wall!”

Logan’s face is inches from yours now, lower teeth bared as he pants furiously, face red from anger. Tears prick your eyes and threaten to roll down your cheeks, you can’t help it, his words dug a knife into your chest. Is that what he really thinks of you? Is that really what you should do? You know what, fuck what he thinks, fuck him and his opinions. What the hell does he know about academia, you think to yourself. You inhale shakily, trying your best to choke down a sob as you twist your face into a hateful scowl.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, a stray tear rolling down your cheek despite your best efforts to uphold the angered front you wanted to put forward. You shove past him and back towards his desk, collecting your essay before starting towards the door. Your hand reaches the handle, you hesitate before you leave. Wanting to turn around, wanting him to maybe even stop you. But he’s fixed, his breathing remaining the same angered pace. With tears now unabashedly running down your cheeks, you leave, drafting the email you’re going to send to the president’s office in your head.

...

A/N: ouch :/ this one hurt to write lowkey. i had to put some smut in there to balance this one out because i started feeling too bad for all of the angst. again, all the kind words of support and encouragement make me so happy. i check my email a million times a day so i can see if someone left a comment. it motivates me a lot to keep this going, which is why im churning chapters out so fast. thank you all🫶🏻 leave your guesses for who you think the president of the university is below and any other x men characters you hope to see in the future!

also, i'm thinking about recommending a song to go with each chapter, i listen to music a lot when i write so i wanted to know what y'all thought about that! click here to view on ao3

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[pastelcheckereddreams]

Sooo, I bought the Lotus Tower model kit and, of course, I went overboard making it as accurate as possible to the show. To no one's surprise, I'm guessing? 😅

For reference, this is what the completed model (sans horses) looks like without most* of my alterations:

*The awning material and decoration is my only alteration at this point, as I didn't like the fabric they included with the kit.

I had so much fun with this model! It is well-made, has moving parts, and is actually fairly easy to put together, with most parts just clicking into place. It even has furniture details inside!

Let me know what you think! Have you got the kit? How are you finding the building process to be? If you want to hear a more detailed review of it and see my progress shots and details of my own creative additions, click below:

UPDATE: I've now added even more things to Lotus Tower! Find them here.

First, unboxing!

This is how the box arrives. I ordered it from CPOP Universe and it arrived well-packaged and undamaged within a matter of weeks.

Along with the kit itself - which as you can see consists of a stack of laser-cut sheets coded from A-Q, and numbers detailing the specific parts - you receive a coaster (ceramic, backed with cork, and very pretty), little standees of difanghua, a letter styled after the ones difang recieve from Li Lianhua, and a replica of the booklet of yangzhouman techniques.

The process:

The first floor came together pretty quickly:

Glue is provided, but isn't necessary for a lot of the pieces, as I found the measurements for a lot of the joints to be pretty snug and able to hold together themselves. Glue is necessary for some parts, though, particularly for areas such as the step up to the rear sleeping area. Strong glue. Here is what the fist floor looks like:

Fitting on the ceiling turned out to be the hardest part of most of the build. All of the holes on the second floor had to line up with every joint on top of the walls and doors.

The next big step I encountered was a curiosity. How to make the rear wall work? There was a curious piece clearly meant to anchor the rope, and a round hole that - much like the doors - meant that this piece was supposed to rotate - and even lock. But I received no instructions on how to achieve that. I found this puzzle (which I like to think was an intentional challenge, given the gadget-orientated FDB) to be a fun challenge. So I won't show you the inner workings and spoil it, but I'll show you the working product:

Next was the rather fiddly job of creating the sail awning. I imagine this will be quite difficult for some as there's no clear indication of how to fix the material in place.

My instinct was to sew it as that is also a craft I have practice in, though granted not everyone who buys this kit will be as comfortable with a sewing needle. The two swatches of fabric provided is also quite prone to fraying, and is quite thick and canvas-like. So, knowing that the awning is a big feature of Lotus Tower, I decided I could do better:

On the left is the provided fabric, and on the right is my own material (an old blouse that I never wore, with patches dyed with my promarker pens).

After that, things should've been an easy home run, as all I had to do was affix the wheels to their axis points and put the horses together. However, quite unfortunately, one of the wheels hadn't been cut out in my kit. I had to cut it out myself with a coping saw, a Stanley knife and much patience😅

It came out looking rough, but nothing a little sanding and a touch up with my promarkers couldn't fix. I also eventually glued the wheel caps to the axis to prevent the wheels popping off every time I touched it, and they all still spin fine (minus the one I had to cut myself, that one's a little sticky😅). Then came the horses, and I was done!

Or so I thought. "Don't you think it looks a little too brown?" said my detail-obsessed brain. "We could do... more...."

And so I did.

My additions:

I used scraps coloured by my blue marker to create the beams of the house, and later coloured the fence posts red.

I made a second sail to hand under the stairs.

I created a second planter box (again, from the scraps and coloured with promarkers - two sets of flowers were included in the kit, so I could put one in each planter.)

And I even created a rain chain using old earring backs, jewellery findings and a chain, spray painted matte black and then painted blue-grey.

To colour the roofs, I likewise painted them a light blue-grey (/brown for Hulijing's kennel), then used a darker blue promarker to roughly add in texture.

I painted the weather vane, and used scraps to add in its missing two cardinal points.

And then finally, I made a winch for the rear wall! It's also easy to turn with the roof on, so I'm very pleased even though it's a little rough looking 😅

Had to gif my video clip because tumblr said boo no to more than one :(

And that's it, that's my latest build! I found this kit very fun, loved the process and seeing Lotus Tower come to life. I also loved adding in all the details to make it just that bit more accurate to the show. My only true criticisms are 1) small design oversights with the base wood colour being a tad too dark imo; the missing arms on the weather vane; and no second flowerbed (although I may be being a tad too pedantic about it 😅). 2) The fact that one of the wheels in my kit didn't get cut out properly (a quality check issue).

Obviously, I made the choice to use a different material than the fabric included so I can't speak to how satisfactory it is. However, if I were ever in the position to give IQiYi direct feedback, I'd suggest they include thinner fabric, and paint (or paint suggestions, as I know model paints aren't usually allowed through customs in these kinds of kits) for the roofs, because (by way of how they're constructed) they're just raw edges of the reinforced card parts - completely uncoloured, despite being a very visual element of the piece.

Thank you for reading this far lol Keep an eye out for more art and craft posts! (I have a Siji Manor set update coming shortly 👀)

[lunarmoves]

dappled sunlight filters its way through the thin curtains of the window by the kitchen sink, warming your hands as you rinse off a few spoons. a pot set on the stove bubbles away with a soup you’d prepped not long ago, a savory smell saturating the air. your phone plays a gentle melody that you find yourself humming along to, lost to your thoughts with nothing to distract you from them. 

well—temporarily, that is. 

a light weight rests atop your head and you’re loathe to admit it makes you jump a little before you register golden hands coming up behind you. snaking under your arms so they can rest on the edge of the sink and tap gently away. 

“are you done yet?” sun asks, a tinge of impatience lining his voice. his voice cracks through the gentle atmosphere of the kitchen like a bolt of electricity. it makes a wry smile tug at your lips. wherever sun goes, exuberance is sure to follow.

you chuckle. “almost. soup’s just gotta simmer for a few more minutes. did you pick out a movie?” 

“ages ago,” he groans, his head shifting to instead nestle itself on your shoulder. one of his rays pokes you in the neck slightly before he retracts it. he watches you run a sponge over one of your kitchen knives. “moon thinks you’ll like it. it’s one of those comedy horror movies. willy’s wonderland?” 

“sounds fun," you say lightly. the knife gets rinsed off before you set it into the nearby dish rack. and before you can even wipe off your hands, sun suddenly wraps his arms around your midsection and pulls you backwards away from the sink. it's a movement so fluid yet jarring that you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes your lips. "sun! i said a few more minutes!"

"and a few minutes is all we need!" sun declares dramatically as he spins around a few times with you, aimless in his direction and unrelenting in his persistence.

you can't help the silly grin that spreads across your face, your movements limited as sun traps you against the front of his chest. he twirls around the little kitchen space, narrowly avoiding the counters' edges. it makes you giggle to yourself, dizziness lightly brushing itself against your senses. his hands eventually move to rotate your body around so that you're properly facing him. he wraps one arm around your lower back and grasps at your free hand with his other one in a gesture that makes your heart traitorously skip a beat.

you are tucked into his lithe body, the crown of your head barely reaching the center of his chest. he takes advantage of his height to trap you there, both your bodies pressed together like two pieces from the same puzzle. his warm arm holds onto you tightly—steadfastly. his grip on your hand is unwilling to let go for even the smallest of moments.

you manage to crane your head back to look at him and the wide grin taking up the lower portion of his face. something mischievous sparks within his white optics—where you can just faintly see his ringed pupils. "what are you doing?" your voice is bright and breathless with your laughter.

"isn't it obvious, my dear?" his smile widens as his head twitches slightly to the side. you can see his pupils dart over to the counter where your phone lays and it finally registers in your head that an upbeat song has started playing from its speakers. "we are! dancing! do try to keep up!"

that is all the warning you get before he absolutely sweeps you away. he leads you in a swing-style dance, rocking the two of you side to side in swooping gestures that has your heart bouncing all over your chest. you laugh and shriek when he gets a bit too close to the stove or a sharp corner, but he's quick on his feet and spins the two of you away in deliberate steps.

you can hear the click-click-click of his rays spinning and extending from his face plate, feel the gentle vibration of his voice box as he laughs alongside you. he croons out the words of the song in your ear and it makes the apples of your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling.

you are not able to keep up with his rapid footsteps—his long legs make him easily able to overtake your own. you stumble and trip a few times, saved only by the tightness of his grip, until he eventually just squats down slightly and tightens his hold across your lower back. you are given not a single warning and you yelp as he lifts you up. your feet dangle off the ground as he hoists you so that your face is level with his own and your chests press together like they could become one. effortlessly and with not an ounce of hesitation.

he takes control completely with this new position and you are forced to simply let yourself be swung about like some kind of doll or stuffed animal as he prances and spins around your apartment. his face presses itself in the crook of your neck, eyes upturned into crescents and his smile bright enough to rival the, well, actual sun.

"sun, the soup! the soup!" you eventually manage to get out between loud laughs, the hand you have wrapped around his shoulders patting him rapidly. you nearly forgot in the whirlwind that sun is, only reminded after you caught a glimpse of the kitchen doorway when sun spun the right way in your living room. your stomach has started to ache and you know if you don't calm yourself down soon it will become unbearable as all extended bouts of laughter do.

"fret not! it has already been turned off!" sun says cheerily as he rocks side to side, making his way around the small coffee table positioned in the center of the living room. the glow of sunlight shimmering through your open windows causes him to be bathed in gold—like he has been touched by midas' hand. and it is utterly gorgeous.

"when did you do that?!" you ask breathlessly, moving to press your cheek against his face plate. it's cool against your skin that has warmed from all the prior movement. sun doesn't mind the contact if his spinning rays are any indication.

in lieu of a response, he only offers you a wink and a stretch of his smile in a sly grin. you huff out some more laughter that turns into a giddy, high-pitched sound when a new song starts playing and sun goes off again with replenished fervor. shouting the words and jumping about with you in his tenderly-tucked hold.

and well... by the time sun's had his fill of dancing and you've had enough of the dizzying twirls and aching laughs, the soup has long gone cold. you can't bring yourself to be upset about it.

[nickfowlerrr]

fawn

pairing: dark!stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. kidnapping. noncon/dubcon. only bucky x reader smut. pet names. if i’m missing something important pls lmk!

words: 6.3k

notes: this is what i wrote when my power went out on christmas lmao. if this does well and people like it i’d definitely consider a part two with more stucky smut - just let me know if you guys like this and would read a continuation. 🖤thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

One click. No flame. Another click. Still nothing. Huffing, you readjust your hold of the lighter. The smell of Christmas already permeating the air, the aroma from the opened but still unlit candle bringing you the slightest bit of ease.

It was cold already and now with the heater out, it was biting. Regrettably your blankets were still sitting in your washer, and with the lack of power, they’d be there until it came back on and you could get them in the dryer.

You made to ignite the lighter again and it finally gave you a flame. Once you had your candle lit, you eased back down onto the couch. The sun was setting and the chill from outside was already seeping into your apartment. Pulling your knee highs back up, you sighed, taking in the darkness that would soon swallow you completely.

So much for finishing that stupid puzzle. You couldn’t see anything. The rattling of the balcony door pulled you out of the silence and had the pit that was already growing in your stomach grow deeper.

Voices from outside, coming from the hallway distracted you from the unpleasant shaking of the door. It was the wind, you knew that, but with each moment, it grew darker and darker and the unexpected noise was unsettling to say the least.

You were alone. And the solitude was welcome, mostly. That underlying, gnawing feeling of loneliness that was somehow always there, no matter how hard you tried to shake it, was starting to get the better of you. Momentarily. Always passing eventually. Or, more accurately, always shoved back down eventually.

The darker it got, you somehow found yourself settling further and further into it. As if it was welcoming you back. The silence, the flicker of the candle, the scent of pine and vanilla softly filling the room. This was okay. This was nice, even.

You felt yourself beginning to doze off, but the cold worked to keep you awake.

It wouldn’t be too long before they got it back on. An hour, tops. Then you could dry your blankets, maybe get a few more pieces of the puzzle put together before you slunk back into bed. A very merry christmas, indeed.

Sun was completely set now, no shadows coming in from the windows. No more watching the swaying of the trees outside. Just flickers of the candle flame dancing along the wall.

Then you heard it again. The rattling. If you had your tv on, or music playing, you were sure you wouldn’t have heard a thing. But in the silence, even a quiet disturbance was audible. Then there was that feeling again. That pit in your stomach. Something’s not right, it called.

Paranoia. That’s all it was.

Intuition, your mind argued.

It was Christmas night, most people were still gone for the holiday weekend, your building near desolate. Who would it be? When do crimes even happen here? It was ridiculous to worry. It’s the wind. Of course it’s the wind.

The creaking that sounded next, though. That wasn’t as easily explained. You froze, just listening. To ensure you heard what you thought you did. Was someone on the balcony? How would that even be possible? You waited. And waited. No more noise. But something was telling you not to let it go. You stayed seated, curled up into the corner of the couch, just staring at the door. You couldn’t see it clearly, the flame not strong enough to illuminate that far from its place on the coffee table. But you could see enough. Enough that as you watched, you suddenly saw the handle move, as if someone outside was opening it.

You always wondered how you’d react in situations like this. Flight or fight, what would you do?

Neither, apparently.

Because you didn’t move. You were like a deer in headlights.

Right, freeze response. You’d forgotten about that possibility. There was another, too, actually. What was that one called? You couldn’t remember.

F..it starts with an f…

The whole while you were trying to think, your eyes were trained on the door. You just watched. Watched as the figure cloaked in darkness let themselves into your apartment. Did they know you were here? Would they care? You weren’t even sure you were breathing as you stayed as still as possible. Maybe the darkness would conceal you. This stranger would take whatever they wanted, and you just prayed the lights would stay out until they were gone. Just be still. Be silent. Not that you could move or make a sound if you’d wanted to. It was like you were paralyzed by fear. The figure didn’t seem to notice you, not even looking in your direction.

The candle. The candle was lit. Was this person oblivious? It was a dead give away that someone was home. The intruder stayed quiet, didn’t seem interested in anything as he walked from the balcony door, across the living room to the front door.

Without thinking, your body was moving of its own accord. You rushed quietly behind them, into the hallway, still encompassed in the dark. You felt your way to your room as fast as you could without running into any walls or making sound.

Your front door opened, and you were confused now. Were they leaving? What was the point of breaking in in the first place?

“Took you long enough.”

The voice of a man, husky and gruff sounded from the front room.

“Shut up,” another man spoke, irritation clear in his voice. “Lock the door.”

Your brain stopped working for a moment. Two voices? Why were there two voices? Why were these men here? Do they know you’re here? What do you do now? Run? Hide? Where was your phone?

Dead. Right. It had died right before the power went out, you’d put it to charge but obviously that wasn’t happening at the moment.

A flash of light hit the hallway as the men walked past back into the living room. You didn’t want to move. Your room was so close, but you didn’t want to risk making a sound and bringing any attention to yourself. So you stayed frozen.

“How is breaking and entering into a crappy apartment supposed to be a christmas gift?” one of the men asked.

“It’s what’s in the apartament that’s the gift,”

“What’s in the apartament?”

“I should’ve worded that better,” the second man corrected. “Not what, but who.”

Three seconds behind. You were running on a delay now. Who?

You.

Three seconds.

Two sets of footsteps down the hallway.

One beam of light shining right at you.

Frozen. For a moment. No noise escaping you. The light too bright, blinding you as you winced. You still couldn’t see them. Not clearly. But they were tall. Bulked. You wouldn’t be able to get away from them if you tried. Funny how that thought came to you just a few seconds after you did.

Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were suddenly being pressed against one of the men as he held you, your back to him, keeping you tight against his chest. Still no sound leaving you. Just breathing, heavy breaths coming progressively quicker.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tutted in your ear as you stared wide-eyed into the darkness before you.

You fell asleep. That’s what happened. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you’d wake up any second now. That was the only explanation. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t cry, dove,” he soothed. “Not gonna hurt you, just wanted to introduce you to a pal of mine.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears as they began welling in your eyes. He was speaking as if you knew each other. Like he knew you, intimately. The tone of his voice, the apparent affection. It was decidedly unnerving.

Your name fell off his tongue as if he’d spoken it a million times before, sending a chill through you as a small whimper finally managed to escape you. The flashlight was now shining on the man you were made to face. Dark hair, stubble on his jaw, piercing blue eyes cutting straight through you. You’d consider him pretty if this was a meeting under different circumstances. There was a look of contemplation on his face as he considered you. His gaze flicked from you to the man still holding you, a question clear in his eyes. Question.. or maybe an accusation.

“This is Bucky,” the man introduced. “I think you two are gonna get along real well,” he sounded almost excited. There was a tense moment of silence after he spoke, your eyes seemed glued to Bucky, your lip wobbling as you stood stock still against the stranger behind you. A painful squeeze of his arms around your waist, and you could feel his strength in his movements. You were sure he could break a rib, crush you easily if he wanted to. His hand gave your waist a squeeze as if he was waiting for you to do something.

“You’re normally so polite, princess. Use your manners. Say hello,” he instructed harshly. Normally so polite. Do you know this man? You started racking your brain for suspects, obviously someone you knew, someone you’d met.. Then suddenly your cheek stung, and you were brought back to the situation. He just slapped you? You blinked at Bucky, seeing him again as you refocused on reality.

“Hello,” you uttered weakly, breathily. You barely heard yourself.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t. His eyes shifted back to his friend instead.

“This is your idea of a Christmas present?”

“I’m telling you, Buck, you’re gonna love her. She’s the sweetest thing, you’ll see,” he insisted, you could practically hear him smiling as he spoke of you like you weren’t even there. “She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”

It was like your brain just couldn’t quite compute what you were hearing. You couldn’t make sense of it. All your thoughts were still trying to guess who this man holding you was. The maintenance man who came over last week for the leak? No, his voice was way deeper and he was stoutly. The guy at the grocery store who stopped you on your way to your car just to tell you how pretty he thought you were? He wasn’t nearly as built as this man was, you could feel his solid chest against your back, his biceps around you were muscular, nothing like the guy from the store. Was it the bookstore? The place you went to get your oil change? Hell, the drive thru worker from last night? You had no idea. You couldn’t place the voice anywhere.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky groused. “Let her go, Steve, she’s not gonna run. Are you, sweetheart?” he directed at you.

Frozen. You opened your mouth ever so slightly to speak, but no words fell out. You blinked once. Twice. Finally you managed to shake your head, it was almost imperceptible, but he accepted it. Steve’s arms fell from around you as Bucky took a step closer. You didn’t move, didn’t even think to. Not even as the power kicking back on served as a distraction for half a second. You stayed where you were, only wincing again at the lights coming on. You could see him better now. He was dressed in all black, the darkness of his clothing and hair only made his eyes that much more striking.

“You got a pretty face,” he said appreciatively, his lip twitching upward slightly. You didn’t know why you couldn’t look away, your eyes locked on him.

There was a loud bang, you jumped at the crashing sound, turning to watch Steve as he proceeded to trash your living room. As your eyes landed on him, it took you a moment to put it together. Steven. So you did know him, albeit vaguely. Every Wednesday, without fail, you’d somehow arrive at the coffee shop you frequented at the same time he would. He’d always hold the door for you. You never really spoke, but he seemed so nice. Chivalrous.

What was he doing? What was happening? Why?

Your television hit the floor as you gaped at the sight.

“What?” you breathed out, confused.

“Sorry, gotta make it look like there was a struggle. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing,” Steve assured you.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you started babbling. “What’s- why are you - what do you want? Why are you here? What’s happening, I don’t - I”

Gloved hands were on your arms as you began sputtering, turning you to face Bucky once again. His hand found your cheek, cupping your face gently as he looked you in the eye.

“Nothing you need to worry about, doll. We don’t wanna hurt you. So you’re gonna be good and listen to every word we tell you, won’t you?”

You kept staring at him, bloodshot doe eyes meeting his sharp, icy blue ones. You didn’t respond, but you allowed him to nod your head for you as you maintained eye contact.

“Good girl,” he smirked. “We’re gonna let Steve do what he needs to do and you’re gonna show me where your room is,” he instructed, turning you to face the hallway.

You walked without thinking, just doing as he told you. You didn’t want to make matters worse.

Flipping the light on, you entered the room. Bucky followed close behind you and moved further in even as you stopped right past the door.

“You got any preferences for clothes?” he asked as he looked in your closet. “We have some stuff, but I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” he said, looking you up and down. “Yeah,” he continued, agreeing with himself, “doubt it.”

You were just standing there like an idiot as he rifled through your belongings. You don’t know how much time passed before he got your attention again. He whistled as he held up a piece of lingerie from your drawer. He turned and held it up in front of you.

“I can see it,” he simpered. “You buy this for someone special, doll? Or maybe someone special bought it for you?” he prodded.

You simply shook your head, looking down now trying to avoid his lecherous gaze. He didn’t force you to speak, and you got the feeling he liked the fact you didn’t. Liked that you were being so obedient for him already. He shoved the lingerie into the duffle bag he’d found in your closet which he had already filled with a bunch of random clothes.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to swing back around here,” Steve said casually as he entered the room. “If there’s anything important you want to bring, I’d grab it now, princess,” he told you.

“Where am I going?” you asked cautiously.

“You’re coming with us. We have our place all set up and ready for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing,”

“Time’s ticking, sweetheart. You heard Stevie, you want to bring something specific, go get it.”

You couldn’t think. They were taking you somewhere. They were packing your things. Steven , Steve, said you were perfect, but perfect for what? You then started to fret over leaving something behind. What if you really never came back here, what if all your things were just gone once you left with them. What do you grab, what should you take with you? That was easier to focus on.

You walked slowly over to your bed and grabbed your throw blanket, it was a security blanket, really. You never slept well without it. You watched as Steve walked into your bathroom with his phone out, he was taking pictures of your toiletries and beauty items. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked back at you, smiling when he met your gaze. “We’ll get you new stuff, you don’t have to worry about bringing any of this.”

“This is going a lot smoother than it normally does,” Bucky said skeptically as he watched you give nearly no reaction.

“I told you, Buck. She’s perfect,” Steve repeated, smirking now as he turned back to continue making note of your things. “That’s what happens when we’re patient and wait for the right one instead of just trying to make random girls work,” he said, seeming to try and point a finger at his partner.

“She’s not putting up even a little bit of a fight,” Bucky mused aloud as he approached you, ignoring Steve and eyeing you darkly. “Why is that, doll?” he asked.

A few more steps and he was directly in front of you, eyes bearing into your own.

“Oh,” he breathed, a wry smile creeping on his lips. “I see it now,” his hands were on your face, holding you as he stared deeply into your bleary eyes, “you’re terrified, aren’t you?”

A broken whimper broke past your lips as you began to tremble slightly. Things were catching up now. The gravity of your situation, the insanity and brazen entitlement of these men in your home, speaking of you like you weren’t able to hear them, talking about taking you with them, how ‘perfect’ you were, the realization of it all, everything compounding, slamming into one another, sending you reeling.

It felt like only fifteen seconds had passed since you watched the balcony door open. How did all of this happen so quickly? It was like you weren’t even there. Just watching everything from an outsider's perspective. Passive. You were so passive.

You just wanted them to leave. You didn’t want to fight them, what point was there in that. You didn’t want to try and run, again, what would be the point? It was clear you weren’t getting away from them and they weren’t planning on leaving you. The only thing you could do was...nothing. Just let them do as they wanted, and try not to make things worse for yourself. Don’t provoke them or put yourself in more danger. They said they didn’t want to hurt you. All you had to do was listen. Just listen, you repeated over and over in your head.

The pressure of Bucky’s hands on your face increased slightly, the material of his gloves rough against your skin as he wiped at the stray tears that had started to fall again. All you could do was nod. He was right. You weren’t doing a thing to stop them because you were scared. You were utterly terrified.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You’re doing perfect, listening real well, doing what we tell you,” he praised. “You know, Stevie, this just might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” he called to his partner while he continued staring, his eyes taking in every detail of your face, lingering on your pouty lips.

You were a present. Not a person. At least not to them.

“Let’s see just how obedient you can be,” he said, his voice lower, darker. He was even closer now, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he was nearly right up against you. Your chest was heaving from your stuttering breaths. Dread setting in the pit of your stomach as his touch left your cheeks and instead drifted down your body.

“Not here, Bucky.” Steve’s harsh words had Bucky’s hands halting in their exploration.

He sucked his teeth before taking a step back and turning to face Steve.

“You can wait another two hours,” Steve griped before turning his attention to you, softening slightly. “That’s all you want to bring, princess?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The question left your mouth before you even registered it as a thought. You saw Steve’s jaw clench as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at your question. If you had to worry about stoking someone’s ire, it was clearly Steve’s. He worked to calm himself, taking a breath before he responded to you.

“I guess we haven’t really explained what’s happening here, have we?

See, Buck and I, we’ve been looking for a pretty little dove like you for a long time, now. But they were just never right. We gave up for a bit, decided the right girl would come along when she was ready. And then I walked right into you one morning. You remember it, don’t you? You were walking into the coffee shop as I was coming out. I wasn’t really paying attention, it was completely my fault, but you were so sweet.. Caring, understanding. Those are rare traits nowadays, ya know. I’m not sure exactly what it was about you that struck me, but I just knew..

I knew you were the one for us. Kept an eye on you for a while, I wanted to learn more about you, get to know you better. And turns out you’re as sweet as I thought you were. Lonely as us, too. We’re the perfect fit. I could see just how much you needed someone.

The number of times I’ve had to watch you cry all alone from the outside looking in, it was like torture,” he confessed as his hands were suddenly on your face, wiping at your tears. You hadn’t even registered him getting closer, didn’t notice him brushing past Bucky to take the spot he had been in, in front of you. “But you won’t ever have to do that again. You won’t be alone anymore, not with us. It’s a win-win situation, princess. You get to get out of this shithole, leave all the stress behind you, no more responsibilities - aside from taking care of us. But we’ll be taking care of you, too. I know this might seem scary, sudden, but it’s for the best, I promise. For all three of us,” he finished, looking back at Bucky who’s eyes were still set on you.

When Steve finally backed away from you, granting you some space, Bucky was quick to return to your side. He was intent on you, not wanting you to get very far from him, though you were hardly moving.

After Steve trashed the rest of your apartment, Bucky had the thrown together bag of clothes slung on his shoulder, ushering you in front of him to trail behind Steve.

When you’d made it downstairs to the parking lot of your complex, you were led to a sleek, blacked out fully tinted SUV. Steve went to the driver’s side and Bucky opened the back door for you. He helped you in and then climbed in right next to you. You heard Steve scoff as he looked back at him, but he didn’t say anything as he started the car and drove out of the lot.

You stared ahead blankly as the car made its way through and out of town, you were aware of the men talking back and forth, but the conversation didn’t include you - at least not that you heard. You were sure Steve would make it clear if he was expecting an answer from you, the way he had earlier, so you let yourself zone out.

What had you done wrong?

How did you find yourself in this position? It was Christmas. You were alone and vulnerable. How long had Steve been watching you? How long had you been a target and you hadn’t even realized?

Fuck, you were so stupid. Stupid, pathetic, and pitiful.

You didn’t even try to get out of this, just went along with them.

The feeling of a gloved hand settling on your leg brought you back to reality for the moment, looking down just as Bucky squeezed your thigh.

“If I had let me in on your plans, I could’ve gotten some stuff ready for her,” he spoke to Steve as his hand idly toyed with the top of your knee highs.

“What we have already will be fine for now. Besides, I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

There was a beat as Bucky fiddled with your stockings, contemplating as he brushed his gloved fingers over your exposed skin.

“What’s our ETA?” he asked Steve.

“Another hour.”

He nodded, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “More than enough time,” Bucky responds smoothly, pulling you onto his lap just the same as you yipped in surprise.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters.

“Don’t be jealous Stevie, you’ll get your turn, too. She’s my present isn’t she? You got your gift earlier, why can’t I have mine now?”

“She’s ours,” he nearly growled in response.

“Guess that means you still owe me one, then,” he taunted back while his hands found your ass, groping you through the material of your shorts while you stayed as still as possible on his lap, though the lull of the car driving down the interstate didn’t make that an easy task. You eventually grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright as Steve passed yet another car, the speed threatening to send you into the door if not falling forward on top of Bucky.

Your unintentional wiggling had Bucky groaning and you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

“You make a mess back there, you’re cleaning it,” Steve warned.

All you could focus on, despite your every attempt not to, was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you as you were forced onto his lap. Grabbing at your ass, running under your shirt, up and down your back, along your waist, gripping your wide hips as he began rocking you atop him. His bulge was rubbing against you with every move and though you tried to fight it, a stirring.. a tingling sensation in your core began to overshadow your fear and disgust.

Your hands were holding tightly onto him, one hand on firm muscle, the other seeming to cling to something more solid. It was an arm, but not one made from flesh and bone.

Bucky’s hands still on your hips suddenly forced you to sit fully down on him. You could feel his strength in the movement, you didn’t consider for a second trying to stop his hands as they slid down into the back of your bottoms, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed your ass, his eyes hungry as he stared at you. He swiftly moved his hands up your back and pulled the hem of your top up and off of you in a flash.

You felt exposed and more scared than you’d been earlier, but deep down you had to have known this was coming. Of course it was.

He grabbed your breasts through your thin bra, kneading them in his still gloved hands. He took a second to finally rid himself of them and when you saw the metal of his left hand, you couldn’t help the audible breath you took as he brought it directly to your throat, squeezing enough to have you shiver but not to interfere with your breathing. He smirked as you subtly sank into him further with the show of dominance before he let his hand wander down and around your back to unclasp your bra.

Pulling the bra off of you easily, he pushed you back so you were up against the passenger’s seat as he ogled your chest. His hands wandered from your throat down to the waistband of your shorts, squeezing you, tickling you, playing with your breasts and teasing your nipples before he pulled you closer again, his head falling to your chest as he took one into his mouth. You worked hard to stifle the moan that threatened to escape when he suckled at you. His touch was all consuming and overpowering. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts, the way he held you to him, keeping your hips rocking against his as he groaned against your skin.

You were completely defenseless and had no plans of trying to fight back, no plans at all to try and stop it from happening. What good would it do? You’d let him have his way, do whatever it was he wanted to do and just get it over with.

He pulled off of you just as Steve sped around another car, you fell forward into Bucky, not bothering to right yourself, just letting your body rest against his, your head on his chest now. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms again and he worked to get them down your thick legs, not an easy task in the position he had you in. He barely managed to get them past your ass before he unceremoniously lifted you nearly over his shoulder and over the seat so you were leaning over him as he tugged them the rest of the way down. You were only then vaguely aware of your lack of shoes, briefly you wondered how you didn’t notice that when you first left your apartment. Your thong sliding down your calves, over the knee highs he left on you, had you refocusing on what was currently going on. You heard his zipper and felt him messing with his pants and it was only another second or two before you were pulled right back down onto Bucky’s lap, a mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you and a hiss escaping Bucky as his firm, hard cock pulsed against your bare pussy.

“Sit,” Bucky ordered firmly. You inched down only a bit more, earning a slap to your ass before he spoke again, “Sit. Down,” he growled.

You obeyed without another word, sitting fully on his exposed lap, the zipper of his pants rubbing against your skin as you did.

“Good puppy,” he praised darkly as he grabbed your face, pulling you to him and forcing eye contact. “I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. We’ve only just met, so I’ll give you a free pass this time. And I know you won’t do it again, will you, doll?”

“No,” you ekked out breathily, feeling the tears renew in your eyes. You shuddered as he kissed your temple before reaching between you and grabbing his cock, pumping himself once before he had you lift up for him, placing himself at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, the only thing keeping you steady as the shame of your arousal consumed you.

“Pussy’s all nice and wet for me, already, huh?” he teased.

You had nowhere else to go so buried your face in his neck, trying desperately to hide from the humiliation. His hands were on your hips and he didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you down, fully seating you on his dick, the air rushed from your lungs at the shock and stretch you were entirely unprepared for. He groaned deeply, a heady, “fuck”, tumbling from his lips as he held you there a second while you whimpered and cried.

“Son of a bitch, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled before gripping your hips tighter, surely leaving bruises. You didn’t do anything, couldn’t move if you’d wanted to. You were gripping onto him like your life depended on it and somewhere deep down you were scared it just might.

Ten seconds passed and he just kept you there, sitting pretty on his cock while you cried into his neck. His grip lightened on your hips and he moved one hand to rub your back, clearly his attempt to ease you.

“Relax,” he soothed, “just take it. Take my cock like the good puppy I know you are,” he said, punctuating his sentence by thrusting up into you, making you cry out in response.

He was too thick. It hurt. Sure there was an underlying pleasure that was making its way to the surface the longer he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, but it was still uncomfortable. And being naked and exposed to the chill air in the car only made you more frigid. Even the heat coming off of Bucky wasn’t helping. You were covered in goosebumps and you had tear streaks still running down your face. You were a mess, a whimpering pathetic mess. Nothing more than a frightened little puppy, just like he knew you’d be.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his thumb was suddenly on your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you moaned weakly before laxing against him even further, inadvertently taking more of his cock inside you.

“Just like that,” he praised, giving you another few seconds to adjust to him. “Want you to bounce on my cock, you think you can handle that, doll?”

You shook your head, still hiding your face in his neck, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you.

He laughed darkly at your response before reframing your hips with his hands, “That’s alright, puppy. We’ll try again when your little pussy’s used to me. It’ll take some training, but you’ll get it eventually. I don’t have a problem doing it myself right now,”

All you could do was cry as he held your hips down on him, fucking up into you relentlessly, the material of his pants scratching at your delicate skin and his hold on you leaving marks you were sure you’d see in the morning. Your tits were bouncing as you bit your lip, groaning at the sensations shooting through you while Bucky cursed and growled, moans leaving him with every thrust into you.

“Please,” you cried, “please, please, please,”

“Fucking hell, Bucky, don’t break her before we even get her home,” Steve interjected sharply between your cries.

“You can’t feel the way she’s gripping me, she fucking loves it,” he panted, slapping your ass as he continued fucking you.

“Hurts,” you mewled desperately, hoping he’d take pity on you and at the very least slow down.

“Poor pup,” he patronized, keeping his pace as you clung to him.

“Buck,” Steve snarled from the front of the car.

Bucky grunted but soon slowed his movements, and began moving you up and down on his cock by your hips, lifting you and having you sit right back down, the new motion stimulating your clit with every tilt of your hips.

You walls clenched down on him as he slapped your ass again, groaning and growling as he kept you riding him.

His movements were slower, but he had you taking him deeper than before. “Fuck yes,” he moaned lowly, throwing his head back as he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. His grip tightened on your hips as he felt you getting closer.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” he teased, only getting a whine from you in response. He chuckled again, “You don’t have to deny it, doll. I know it feels good for you, too. I can feel your cunt tryin’ milk my cock. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, baby,”

His thumb found your clit again, playing you expertly as you writhed on his cock, unbidden moans falling from you as you felt a coil tightening in your lower belly.

“I’m gonna give it to you, you’re gonna take fuckin all of it. But you’re gonna come on my cock first,”

That coil wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter with each swipe of his thumb in tandem with his thrusts until you couldn’t hold it or fight it any longer and it finally snapped. A white hot heat running through your body as you cried out, holding onto Bucky as you came undone. The feeling of his warm cum hitting your walls as he finished inside of you registered too late, not that you could’ve done anything to stop him anyway. The post orgasmic haze quickly faded with the reminder of reality.

You slumped into him again as you began sobbing. His arms held your naked body against his fully clothed one as he relaxed, leaning back into the seat while a hand rubbed your back and you wore yourself out with the tears that fell.

“No tears, puppy. You did such a good job,” he cooed, only making you cry harder despite how exhausted you were.

He was right, you did a good job for him. Didn’t fight, didn’t try to stop it. Just let him have you, however he wanted. You were a coward. Terrified of being hurt, you let him hurt you. You could hate yourself for your lack of self preservation, but when you really thought about it, this was your self preservation. They could easily hurt you worse. They could kill you if they wanted and you’d never stand a chance. You didn’t want to live like this, but you didn’t want to die, either. You weren’t sure yet, but the latter certainly seemed like the worse option.

Just be good and don’t give them a reason to hurt you. That’s all you had to do. That’s all you could do.

Bucky kept you on him, stuffed full of his cock and cum while he held you against him.

You whimpered when you felt his cock get hard again inside of you but he didn’t move you, just kept you sitting on him - keeping him warm.

“We’re not that far,” Steve spoke, waking you as your eyes threatened to close while you laid against Bucky, thoroughly exhausted.

“Good, she’s about to pass out on me already,”

“‘S’alright, dove,” Steve said to you, “You can sleep til we get home and we’ll bring you inside. You’re gonna need your rest. Our night’s just getting started. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do now that you’re finally home.”

You couldn’t help it as your tears fell once again, and Bucky rubbed your back.

“You’re gonna love it, doll,” he reassured you. “And if you thought that was good you have no idea how much better it is when it’s all three of us. We’ll have you seeing stars, baby,” he simpered.

“Tomorrow we’ll get everything else sorted, but for tonight, we’ll just get you comfortable. The only thing you’ll be crying for by the end of the night is more.”

[1greyscale1]

i’ve said this before, but i should say again

i love my system.

i love every one of them. i love the ones that have stayed since god knows how long, i love the ones who have stayed for a day or two and left, i love the ones who have been here, left, and came back. i love my system. we are one happy family, and i can’t express my love for every one of them. i’m rambling right now, but i don’t care. i need to put it out there. i love everyone of us.

i’m going to say some words about all of them now.

Alastor. I love him so much. my Alyaly. he formed one stressful night, it was a car ride back home from the airport after a big trip. i was listening to some sad songs, and ‘we’ll meet again: alastors version’ popped up somehow. playing it, i sobbed silently. he formed to comfort me, make sure i was going to be okay. he made me feel better. i love him, my Alyaly.

Rosie, oh Rosie, my Aunt RoRo. she helped me with colouring and learning to calm down easier. she was there for me when i needed her, and even though she had some times where she would leave, she always came back. i love Aunt RoRo.

Corvid… Corvid… Corvid… oh how kind and uplifting she is. she formed from my interest in kandi bracelets. she joined me whenever i wanted to make bracelets, and we even combined our interests and made a ‘SELF-iSH’ cuff! i love her personality, and how her level of chaos connects with mine. i love Corvid.

Ion! i love ion, the wine aunt of our family. we sometimes joke about her being more insane then Corvid. just our little inside joke, but it means a lot to us. she is very knowledgeable and loving. she formed from just a name. a simple name. she dated Corvid after a few days of her being formed, and they’ve been together since. she makes the best jokes, and loves to make kandi with Corvid and I. i love Ion.

Adam, the big man. when he formed, he was tough and rude. but after a little, he got closer to us, and broke down his tough exterior. he dated Lexi after the two clicked like puzzle pieces. meant for each other. Adam is splendid, he is my older brother figure, and loves Lexi like there’s no tomorrow. i love Adam.

lovely little Lexi. she was sort of always here, no real form date, but we love her nonetheless. she has a very bouncy and open personality, with the brightest smile a human could ever imagine. always kind, caring, and of course part of our family. she loves Adam to death, making sure he’s got everything he needs whenever he seems down. she’ll always hug people if they need it. she is the sweetest person ever. i love Lexi.

last but certainly not least, Rowan. our fox. when he formed, he was very cautious with any information he gave to us, asocial, and more secluded. but eventually, he became more calm around us, telling us more about himself, and eventually being a big part of our family. he’s our fox, and our best friend. i love our fox, Rowan.

i love my family.

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

✧ in which the attempt to get distracted from your feelings might not end exactly as you planned

jungwon x fem!reader (feat. sunghoon)

genre: mostly angst, some fluff

warnings: skinship, (a tiny little bit suggestive if you squint your eyes), mentions: physical violence, blood, alcohol, cheating, breaking up, toxic relationship, crying, and panic

word count: ~6.8k

a/n: phew, this took me like forever to write but the idea had been in my head for so long. i hope y'all enjoy this read ! ≧◡≦ (i highly recommend to read the teaser to this before for better understanding; it's linked in the pink text -> if you click on 'previously')

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

previously:

"you're still not seeing anyone?", his eyes locked with yours again, "i'm sure there are some guys in college who are all over you. maybe you should try your luck?"

he gave you a knowing look, as if he subtly wanted to tell you: get yourself out there and distract yourself from him.

over the weekend, you replayed jay's words in your head over and over again. he wasn't wrong; it wasn't too bad of an idea after all. you wouldn't try to force anything, but you decided to allow things to happen if they decided to roll around. you couldn't keep on sulking over your one-sided feelings, especially not when jungwon was your friend and almost in a relationship. you should be happy for him after all, you thought.

as if on cue, you bumped right into said potentional distraction the following week.

you were rushing down the stairs of the lecture building, eager to catch the subway three minutes later, as you tripped over your untied shoelace and right into someone walking up the stairs.

the force you hit him with made said someone stumble back a step.

before you could realize what happened, you felt a strong grip on each of your arms steadying you, eventually preventing you from falling down the stairs and taking him along with you.

"woah, careful there", you heard his semi-familiar voice as you looked up to meet his widened, chocolate-brown eyes.

"wait... y/n, right?" you nodded slowly, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. you remembered his face and his voice, but you couldn't figure out from where.

apparently, you couldn't seem to hide the confusion; the corners of his lips shot up into a smile the same time that a chuckle left his mouth. "sunghoon. we had a group project last semester." right. that's why he looked familiar.

still shocked from the moment, all you could utter was a little "i'm sorry" along with an apologetic smile. "for forgetting and for running you over", you added. only then, you realized his hands were still holding onto your arms. you cleared your throat. "and thanks for um... catching me, i guess?"

he gave you a short smile and loosened the grip around your arms until he let go of them fully. "i mean... i was kinda saving myself", he said, reminding you of how the scenario would have ended hadn't he reacted so fast - namely, with both of you at the bottom of the staircase, probably with at least one broken bone and definitely not with the grin he gave you now. the thought made your stomach twist.

"hey, it's fine", he tried to somewhat comfort you, noticing how all color had left your face. "although, i do think you owe me... for saving your life practically, you know"

he was exaggerating. you knew he was. but it still twisted your stomach a second time, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. relax, maybe he just wants some notes from a lecture he didn't attend. or he has an essay due tomorrow that he didn't want to write. or-

"come to my match tomorrow. if i win, you'll go on a date with me"

what.

your intuition told you to decline. however, the look in his eyes proved that he insisted, and you really did owe him.

maybe you should try your luck, jay's words echoed in the back of your head. right. maybe i should.

without wasting another second, you nodded your head, which caused a smile to spread across sunghoon's lips.

"i still have your number saved. i'll text you the details", he replied as he walked past you and up the stairs a few steps, before he turned around to look at you again. "you might want to tie your shoelace unless you planned to run someone else over"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the same evening, as promised, you received a text message from sunghoon with the place and the time for the following day.

yet again, your stomach flipped for the split of a second, the thought if you were out of your mind for agreeing on the deal with a stranger clouding your mind. but then again, he wasn't a complete stranger and it was only a college ice hockey match. it would be nice getting your mind off your feelings and any recent events jungwon never hesitated to tell you about.

and that's how you found yourself on your way to the college's ice hockey rink less than 24 hours later. as you walked closer, you noticed sunghoon standing in front of the entrance, carrying a big bag in one hand and holding his phone in the other. you picked up your pace for the last few meters.

"sorry, i lost track of the time while getting ready", you greeted him. he looked you up and down for a second before smiling softly. "don't worry, it was worth the wait."

you felt yourself smiling slightly at the compliment, your cheeks covered in a light pink shade.

sunghoon guided you inside and to a seat in the first row, waiting for you to sit down before he spoke. "i have to change and warm up now. do you need anything before i go?" you shook your head.

"i'm wearing number 7 so watch out for me. and remember, if my team wins", he said, confidence radiating from his voice, "you owe me a date". he gave you the hint of a grin before disappearing to what you assumed was the locker room.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as time passed, you found yourself feeling more and more invested in the match. although you had no knowledge about any rules, and the players' movements were too fast for you to follow, you quickly adjusted to the speed of the match and started to put the puzzle of possible rules together. as soon as it started to make sense to you, your interest grew bigger.

you hadn't noticed how you had unintentionally followed a certain player's every move until you cheered for a goal he scored, his head turning to look at you and his eyes lighting up as they met your cheerful ones. you swore you could see him giving you a quick wink, before turning on his skates to continue the match.

even as the match was over and the crowd of people around you started leaving, you were still trying to figure out if the fast rhythm of your heartbeat was due to the adrenaline in your body that the game had caused or due to your tiny interaction with said certain player. back number 7. said certain player, who you now owed a date.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after your date with sunghoon, you found yourself accompanying him to every single one of his weekly matches, not even cancelling when you really had to finish an assignment that was due the end of that day - and that you hadn't even started. besides the matches, that had by now become like a weekly ritual for you, the two of you spent more and more time together, getting to know each other better and growing closer.

he would wait for you after your classes so he could walk you home - something you would usually refuse to do. but walking meant you didn't have to take the subway that was, more often that not, packed to a point that the doors barely closed. and walking with sunghoon meant spending some extra time with him, listening to how his day went and telling him about yours, and sometimes, just sometimes, it also meant having him holding your small hand in his bigger one, your fingers softly intertwined.

you would come over to his place after his practice, to order dinner and watch movies until one of you fell asleep cuddled up against the other.

the two of you would go out on dates, although neither of you officially addressed them as such, and you would slowly begin to feel more and more comfortable around each other.

what had started as a deal - all because you almost knocked him over on the college stairs a few months ago - and as sort of a distraction from your one-sided feelings for your best friend, had by now become a part of your life. a part that made your stomach all fuzzy and your heart warm up each second you spent together.

the plan to distract yourself, however, seemed to work - if jay's judgement was anything to go by, at least. a few weeks ago, you had finally briefed him on the entire situation with sunghoon. part of you felt bad for not letting him know earlier, mostly because he had given you the idea of 'trying your luck', but you had wanted to wait until things were more settled.

jungwon, on the other hand, didn't know yet. remembering how you'd felt whenever he was telling you about the girl he'd liked when you still had feelings for him, you decided to keep everything concerning sunhoon a secret from him. at least for now that the relationship with his girlfriend was in a slump that it couldn't seem to get out of. given your feelings a few months ago, you would have probably been happy to hear the news - although you hated yourself for that - but now that your heart didn't stung anymore at the thought of your friend with another girl, you felt bad for him.

if jay had told him already, which he pinky-promised he wouldn't do, jungwon was very good at hiding. or his mind was elsewhere. just like now, during your weekly bar-catch-up-meeting, when he didn't really seem to listen to jay's updates. you didn't have to ask him; you knew what lay heavily on his heart - and it made you feel even worse about your decision to introduce sunghoon to them that night. but recent events had sort of pushed you to finally do so;

a few days ago, the two of you were sitting in a café for one of your (unofficial) dates, when sunghoon suddenly handed you a bag. hesitantly, you took it from his hands and lurked inside. after shooting him another glance, and earning an approving nod from him, you shoved your hand inside the bag, grabbed the piece of fabric and slowly pulled it out. although you immediately recognized the familiar colors of the jersey, you unfolded it slowly, the '7' on its back confirming your suspicion.

"it's my jersey... my spare one, don't worry, it's clean", he added hastily. "it's to...", he reached up to scratched the back of his head, a tiny hint of nervousness spreading across his face, "to have a reminder of why we started dating in the first place, sort of. you can wear it to my matches from now on", he declared sheepishly.

the smile on your face grew wider with every word he said. "that's cute... thank you, hoon", you leaned in to quickly peck his cheek, only resulting in your own cheeks heating up even more. "i'll always wear it from now on"

you couldn't help but notice the warm, bubbly feeling the gesture caused in your stomach. it was a small one, yet it felt somewhat so big, so official.

you bit down on your lower lip at the thought. you had been meeting regularly, and when you didn't fall asleep at each other's place, you had been calling every night, even if it was just to say good night. sunghoon would keep his hand on the small of your back when you were walking and sometimes you even held hands in public. now that you thought about it, it did feel official. but it wasn't. neither of you had ever addressed the title-topic, until -

"will you finally be my girlfriend?"

now that you were official, you didn't want to hide it from your friends anymore, although jay technically knew. he just didn't know about the boyfriend girlfriend kind of thing.

you knew now wasn't the right timing, but a quick glance at your phone and the incoming message from sunghoon that he'd just arrived, told you that it was too late to change your mind.

just a few moments later, you saw sunghoon appearing near the entrance, his gaze scanning the bar until his eyes finally met yours and softened slightly at the sight. he gave you the hint of a smile and waited for a sign from you that he could walk over to the table you shared with your two friends. they were sitting with their backs to the entrance, so they hadn't seen him yet when jay finished with his weekly update just a minute later.

for the first time in a while, you rose to speak without jay needing to ask you to do so.

"i have kind of an update this week", you said sheepishly, looking over their shoulders to give sunghoon a tiny nod. he took the hint and made his way to your table. "actually, i want to introduce you to someone"

just in time, sunghoon walked past the table and stopped next to you, giving you a short smile and mouthing a 'hi' before looking at your friends.

"jay, jungwon", you pointed at them as you named them, "this is sunghoon", you introduced the three guys to each other, hesitating to continue. the last boyfriend you'd introduced to your friends had turned out to be a complete disappointment, and ever since, you hadn't been in a relationship again. now, it felt almost weird to open up to your friends about this topic.

sunghoon sensed your slight nervousness and softly placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a short, careful squeeze - as if to give you a sign that it was okay to continue.

"he's my boyfriend", you finally said, a nervous smile spread across your lips.

jay bit his lower lip to surpress a grin, but he gave you a look that said i knew it, before quickly standing up and reaching out his hand to greet sunghoon.

jungwon, on the other hand, hesitated before he mimicked jay's action.

he's my boyfriend. your words echoed in his mind, even long after sunghoon had sat down next to you.

my boyfriend. his brain replayed the scene over and over again like a broken record.

while his elder friend interviewed the couple about how they had met and so on and so forth - although, in secret, he already knew the story - jungwon paid no attention to any word spoken at the table. his focus moved from the hand sunghoon had casually placed on your thigh, to your smaller hand on top of his, and back to his hand and his thumb that slowly and softly caressed the skin on your thigh that your skirt exposed. then, to the smile that spread across your lips as you were talking about whatever, the short moments of eye contact you'd share with your boyfriend, the way his lips curled up when he talked about the relationship, and finally the short peck he placed on your cheek that painted your cheeks a light pink.

jungwon's chest felt tight. uncomfortably tight. tightness, paired with a stinging pain on the left side of his chest that spread like a wildfire to his stomach. with just a hint of hope, he picked up his phone from the table to check for a notification - only to feel even the last bit of optimism shatter to pieces, as he saw the empty screen. no message. no call. no nothing. of course.

only a few weeks ago, he used to experience all these tiny moments that you and sunghoon now shared, too. only a few weeks ago, he'd looked as happy as you did now. had felt as much in love as you did now, maybe even more. only to find all of that slowly fading away more and more with each day that passed, like an old photograph that had been too exposed to sunlight.

now that he saw it happening in front of him, he swore he could hear his heart ripping a little in his chest.

he didn't know if he should blame it on the alcohol in his blood or on the current situation with his own girlfriend when a spark of anger mixed with the sadness he felt. you were aware of his situation, yet you decided to introduce your boyfriend to them that night?

then again, he had no right to keep you from having a good time just because he wasn't. and if the look on your face and the way you slightly leaned against sunghoon were anything to go by, you did have a good time. but who guaranteed that, after all? the last time he'd been introduced to a boyfriend of yours, the relationship had turned out to be the prime example of a disaster.

paying close attention to sunghoon's every move, jungwon's grip tightened around his glass when his gaze went down to his hand on your leg again and he swore he saw it moving up your bare skin just by an inch.

jay, who'd learned to read his best friend's body language in next to no time over the several years of friendship, stepped on jungwon's foot under the table and shot him a confused look that caused the younger to empty whatever liquor was left in his glass and swallowing part of his anger along with it.

a few hours later (or more like what felt like an eternity to jungwon), your night out ended with bidding goodbye's to each other, a friendly 'it was nice meeting you' from jay and a more drunk than sober 'you better not hurt her' from jungwon.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

while jay contacted you a few times after your night out, asking the usual how are you's and the not-yet-usual how are things with sunghoon, you'd heard nothing from jungwon. you'd tried to reach out to him, but he had kept your communication to a minimum, his replies coming late, short and dry - if even.

that was until you found him in front of your door the next thursday night, after he had successfully woken you up by ringing the doorbell almost non-stop. when you opened the door and saw him standing in front of your apartment, you were ready to throw all kinds of complaints right at his face. because where did he get the audacity from to randomly pay you a visit past your bed time, when he knew for a fact how much you cherished your sleep and especially when he'd barely talked to you over the past week.

however, it took only a second look at his face for you to quickly close your mouth and swallow your complaints. you'd seen him feeling down before, but you'd never seen him like this. dark circles marred his usually bright eyes - eyes that were now red, either from anger or from tears. his skin was pale and his lips looked like they hadn't formed a smile in days. you couldn't quite make out his expression, swinging somewhere between the lines of sadness and sheer emptiness.

suddenly, it didn't matter that he interrupted your sacred sleeping time. worry rushed over you as you wordlessly stepped aside, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip sucked between your teeth, to make space for your friend to enter.

after jungwon had hesitantly stepped inside your apartment, you carefully grabbed his wrist, leading him to the living room and putting both your hands on his shoulders, pushing down softly until he sat on the sofa. your soft touch left tiny sparks on his skin that lingered there even after you left the living room again.

as you came back moments later with a mug of tea in both hands, you found jungwon still sitting in the same position. his gaze stuck to his knees, almost as if he didn't dare to look at you.

you exhaled a small sigh, before handing him one of the cups, placing the other on the small coffee table. you grabbed a blanket from the other side of the sofa and carefully put it around his shoulders in hopes it would somehow comfort him.

after you sat down next to him, it took him only the blink of an eye to blurt out all the thoughts that clouded his mind at once.

"i'm sorry for bothering you at this time, i know you were probably sleeping and i really tried to reach jay, but he didn't answer his calls and he wasn't home and-... and i know i didn't even talk to you properly the past days but-"

"jungwon.", you interrupted him, softly placing your hand on his upper arm. "what happened?"

he was right. you were sleeping and he hadn't talked to you properly the past days, but that didn't matter anymore. your chest felt tight at the sight of your friend in such a state.

you could hear jungwon release a long sigh before he said the words you'd already expected to hear: "we broke up."

you listened attentively as he gave you a summary of the previous happenings. it sounded like the prime example of a nasty break up; hour long arguments with a lot of screaming and crying included. trying to make up, only to fuck it all over the next second. you could feel your heart aching for him, only imagining how overwhelmed he must have felt, especially after being so in love.

"oh, jungwon...", you sighed once he was done, taking his hand that had started shaking in his lap at the memory of everything he told you in yours and giving it a careful squeeze.

his shaking hand came to a halt at your soft touch and for a reason unknown to himself, jungwon wished that you'd never let go.

"i'm so sorry", you broke the silence again and slowly let go of his hand, leaving it cold without your touch.

you knew he would talk to you or jay whenever he felt the need to and you certainly didn't want to push him to speak, nor dig too deep with further questions.

"comfort movie and ice cream?"

jungwon's lips curled into the hint of a smile just for the blink of an eye before it disappeared again and he nodded.

"comfort movie and ice cream"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

even a week later, jungwon caught himself thinking back to the night he rang your doorbell in despair and how you'd comforted him so effortlessly. he swore if he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel your warm touch around his wrist, on his shoulders, on his arm, and on his hand. sometimes, he even caught himself wondering what it would feel like to hold your hand for longer, or how much comfort it would give him to hold your body close to his if only the tiny amount of skinship had felt like this. like the first ray of sunshine after a storm. like home.

although he knew he had no business to neither think nor feel like that, his mind tricked him into the same train of thoughts over and over again. and whenever it happened, he'd feel guilty. he'd hate himself for letting his thoughts wander back to you so frequently, knowing it was straight up egoistic. you had comforted him that night. you had given him the tiny bit of affection that he'd been so deprived of ever since his relationship went downhill - even if it had just been platonically. he blamed the fact that you were running laps around his mind on the situation he'd been in, but that only made it worse. knowing he was only longing to relive these tiny moments with you for the sake of feeling at ease - of forgetting about his break up. or so he thought.

over the next few weeks, he was proven wrong. he couldn't say he was over his ex girlfriend yet, but she for sure started to matter less and less to him. at the same time, thoughts of you clouded his mind more often than he'd liked to admit.

at first, he'd tried to shrug it off. but as time passed, he couldn't deny the small pang in his chest whenever sunghoon picked you up from your night outs, whenever he saw your phone light up from a notification, the picture of you and sunghoon that you had put as your lockscreen greeting him, or each time you posted your boyfriend on social media - being all lovey-dovey, of course.

if he thought all of these feelings were just caused by the sudden lack of love in his life at first, by now he was sure that they were the outcome of the lack of your love.

you, on the other hand, blamed any glares at your boyfriend, any of jungwon's sighs at the sight of you two together, and any other more or less weird behaviour from jungwon on the fact that he was still not over his break up and simply felt a bit uneasy at seeing love happening right in front of him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weekend rolled around, you were hoping that saturday afternoon would not only lighten up jungwon's mood overall, but also ease the uncomfortable tension between the two of you.

it was jay's birthday and as per his wish, you met up with him and some of his other friends from college to play bowling all together. you had been hesitant about letting sunghoon tag along, given the circumstances with jungwon and you not wanting to be the reason for a ruined birthday, but jay, who had also grown closer to sunghoon over time, convinced you otherwise.

although you were enormously behind in points, the game was fun and everyone seemed to have a good time. small waves of relief washed over you each time you saw jungwon scoring a strike, followed by a cheerful jubilation. finally.

it was your last turn before the game was over. even though your chances of winning were zero, you still tried your best to at least hit a few pins - just so the results wouldn't be as embarrassing. and against your own expectations, you indeed scored a solid seven.

when you turned around, jungwon tried his best to surpress a proud smile at your result. there was no need. it would have gone unnoticed by you anyways, your eyes falling right on sunghoon, his wide smile and his opened arms that embraced you in a short hug after you approached him.

"see, i told you; you just need some practice and you'll do well", he mumbled in your hair, leaving a soft peck on top of them, before he let go of the hug, cupped your face in his hands and captured your lips in a short but loving kiss.

"i guess seven is my lucky number", you replied jokingly flirtous.

sunghoon opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted by an annoyed groan coming from the other side of the table.

"you guys are gross"

the glare you gave jungwon for his words made his insides twist and he decided to keep whatever else words he wanted to throw at you - out of pure jealousy, admittedly - to himself.

in fact, you didn't hear any other word from him that day, until you used a moment in which sunghoon and jay were busy discussing whether baseball or ice hockey was better, to follow jungwon as he excused himself to the restroom. you were dedicated to confront him about the prior situation.

"what the fuck was that for, jungwon?"

he raised his eyebrows cluelessly.

"you know what i mean. it was unnecessary. and not exactly respectful." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at him expectantly.

"it hurts seeing you with him."

fuck. his own eyes widened as the words of confession left his mouth. out of all the lies he could have come up with, did he really have to say the truth?

you sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "listen, jungwon. i'm sorry about your break up and your loss, but just because you ended your realtionship doesn't mean that i have to-"

"am i not being obvious enough?", he interrupted, causing you to look at him in disbelief.

"what? i don't think i'm rubbing your nose in-"

"oh, cut the cap, y/n", he interrupted again, a slight hint of annoyance shadowing over his words this time. he blamed it for the sudden confidence it gave him as the next words just rolled off his tongue without any warning.

"you really don't understand i'm in love with you?"

the words hit you like a punch in the gut, its pain spreading all over your stomach as you took a step back.

this world cannot be so sick and twisted, you thought as the uneasy feeling made its way to your chest like a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe.

you swallowed hard, as if that would subside the feeling.

"i don't think this is the place and time to have this conversation now", you tried your best to stay calm, although all you wanted was to run off and escape the situation.

"why?" jungwon asked, and with each step he took towards you, you took a step back. "cause your boyfriend is just a few steps away?"

your heart was hammering against your chest.

"and what if he hurts you?", he continued.

memories of your previous relationship, memories which you had worked so hard to shove all the way to the very back of our mind, hit you like a wave. what if he hurts you?

you shook your head in an attempt to shake them off, trying to keep your cool with the attempt of a deep breath. you wouldn't panic. not here, not now.

"what would you know about his intentions?"

"nothing. but i don't trust him and i know about mine. you can still choose me over him and we'll-"

"stop", you said sternly. your head hurt and everything was spinning. "stop making everything about you." words left your mouth before your head was done forming them into sentences. "i had liked you for so long before and you never cared how i felt when you talked about her non-stop."

jungwon's eyes widened as your confession rang in his ears. "i...", he swallowed hard, "i care about how you're feeling"

"i'm feeling happy now. you care? then don't ruin this for me"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

weeks later, the stress the situation had left you in, had calmed down. you were laying on the side you claimed as yours on sunghoon's bed, scrolling through tiktok and effectively procrastinating on your studies. after sunghoon had left to meet with his study group, you were alone in his apartment. he'd offered you to tag along, but after you'd declined, you just decided to stay in his place so you could spend the evening together once he came back.

after a few more minutes of scrolling, you finally put your phone down and started studying. just when you felt too exhausted to continue, you heard keys turning in the lock of the front door. what a timing.

you quickly closed your laptop, stood up and made your way to the front door to greet sunghoon, only for him to quickly rush past you, not even granting you a look, but instead keeping his face down.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and turned around to follow him.

"babe?"

you tried to understand what it was that caused him to act like that all of a sudden. everything was fine when he left. your mind started racing about all the things you could have possibly done wrong when he shut the door to the bathroom right in front of your face.

he didn't lock, but you didn't want to enter like an intrudor, so you took a deep breath before carefully knocking on the wooden door.

"sunghoon?"

when you heard nothing but the sound of water running, you decided to open the door slowly, little by little, until you could see him leaning over the sink and washing his face.

when you caught sight of the sink, painted in red, an alarm went off in your head. you quickly rushed over to him and stopped his attempt to splash more water on his face by grabbing both his wrists, tight but careful enough to not hurt him.

when he finally faced you, your heart dropped. his lip was slightly bruised and blood ran down his nose. you gave him a worried look to which he averted his gaze.

a few moments later, he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with you kneeling in front of him, cleaning up the blood on his face and treating his wounds. although you were careful, you could hear him hiss in pain from time to time.

"are you going to tell me what happened?", you broke the silence while tapping a tissue on his lip.

no answer.

you took his hands in yours, scanning his knuckles for any injuries.

"you didn't fight back", you established.

still no answer.

you stood up with a sigh, ready to leave the bathroom, when only one word from sunghoon made you freeze right at the spot.

"jungwon."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you didn't find jungwon at his place, you drove to the café he recently started working at, in hopes of finding him there. you knew he was busy working, if he was there, but you couldn't care less.

sunghoon had tried to talk you out of it, practically begging you to just let it be and to stay home with him, and the memories of the last time you tried to tackle a problem with jungwon weren't exactly encouraging you to do so again, either. everything told you to not confront jungwon about the whole situation, but anger got the best of you when you, nevertheless, decided to do so.

when you arrived to the café, you caught a glimpse of the counter, half relieved to see jungwon behind it, half not. not wanting to cause a scene, you waited in the queue until it was your turn.

"hi, what can i get-"

jungwon's words got stuck in his throat when he realized who was standing in front of him.

he believed in coincidences, but this would be too much of an coincidence, even for him. he knew you knew.

"let me guess, your lovely boyfriend told you already?", he cocked an eyebrow.

"care to explain?", you asked back, mimicking his attitude.

instead of replying, he left his spot, grabbed a glass and started to add ingredients you couldn't quite make out from the speed he was working at. once he was done, he placed it on the counter in front of you.

"i'm off in half an hour", he slid the glass across the wood, closer to you, "if you wait, i'll tell you after. the coffee's on the house."

and without another word, he turned to the next customer, ready to take their order.

you sighed, but grabbed the drink and sat down in an empty chair, swirling the straw. you hadn't exactly planned for the day to end with you sitting there, waiting for jungwon to finish his shift, and sipping on a coffee that tasted surprisingly good - but here you were.

a few minutes later, jungwon, who was now changed out of his working clothes, approached your table.

"i told you to stay out of it", you said, before he even had the chance to say anything. "what makes you think getting involved and punching him was okay?"

how and where did you two even meet? why did you start this, and why didn't sunghoon fight back? tons of questions rose up all at once, making it hard to not lose your focus.

instead of replying, he silently reached out his hand, to which you just gave him a confused look.

"you won't believe me, anyways. so i'll show you."

not sure how to feel about what he had to show you, you hesitated before standing up, but refusing to take his hand. you followed him through a door that prohibited access to customers with a sign that read 'staff only'.

without a word, he sat down in front of a big computer screen, repeatedly clicking on different things with the mouse and tapping on the keyboard here and there. his narrowed eyes indicated he was searching something.

an uneasy feeling crept up on you, spread from your stomach, to your chest, and finally the rest of your body. you had no clue what jungwon was about to show you, but what you were sure of was that it couldn't be good.

"got it", he finally said, after what felt like an eternity. part of you was curious to see what he'd show you, while another, bigger part was eager to run away and pretend the day had never happened.

hesitantly, you took a few steps into his direction, until you could see the screen. at the second glimpse, you understood that what you saw in front of you on the screen was the café you'd been sitting in less than five minutes ago. he was showing you the café's cctv file.

"that was right before my shift", jungwon said, before he clicked play and leaned back for you to see the screen better. although, when you saw and realized, you wished your vision was blocked.

what you saw was no one other than your boyfriend sharing a table with an unfamiliar girl, both of them sitting a little too close to each other for your liking. you weren't a jealous person per se, but you also had boundaries. and your boyfriend's arm around the shoulders of a random girl you didn't know came very close to crossing them.

you tried to tell yourself that they were waiting for the other members of their study group, but no one else arrived, and nothing on the table looked like studying.

your stomach sank further and further, pearls of cold sweat pooled in the palms of your hands and your knees started to feel weak the closer the two got to each other. by now, you were anticipating what you saw next, but you still clung desperately to the tiny bit of hope that you had left; that told you you were exaggerating and it would be fine.

but even that tiny spark of hope died when you saw exactly what you'd expected to see. your boyfriend leaned in for a kiss.

your breath got caught in your throat and by now you knees felt like they'd give in and let you hit the ground.

the last thing you saw on the screen was jungwon pulling sunghoon away and placing a delicate punch right in his face without hesitation - then the screen went black.

it wasn't until you saw your reflection in the screen that you realized jungwon had stood up and placed his hand on the small of your back, as if to steady you.

silent tears rolled down your cheeks until they fully blurred your vision. what if he hurts you, jungwon's words from several weeks prior replayed in your head.

before your mind could wander off to questions such as how long it had been going on or what you did wrong to get cheated on, you were pulled into a tight hug.

jungwon held you through your sobs, let you soak his shirt in tears and carefully stroked your back in an attempt to calm you down.

although his heart was aching, ripping a little every time you let out another bitter sob, he held you tight to his chest as if keeping you close to him could protect you from all the bad in the world. oh, how he wished it could.

after you'd calmed down, he slowly let go of you, taking his hands off your back and on your cheeks instead, cupping your face and slowly wiping away your tears.

"now if after this you still don't choose me over him, i don't know either", he tried hard to make it sound like a joke, "also, my skills in making coffee are immaculate, so..."

the last part elicited a small chuckle on your behalf that quickly died again.

"i need time, won"

he nodded and gave you a soft smile, your face still cupped by his hands.

"as much time as you need", he said softly, "whenever you feel ready, i'll be here waiting for you, okay? as long as it takes you"

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

taglist: @ilovejungwonandhaechan @aloloveswonie @jungwonloverr @laylasbunbunny @rawrszh @avacelestepereira @aishigrey @ilabjungwon @heeheeyeoiizz01

[sc0tters]

It Ain’t Easy | Ethan Edwards

summary: love would be a whole lot easier if your brothers were all on board with your boyfriend.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, 4:00am slightly edited writing 😭

word count: 1.63k

authors note: this is the official last piece before we start working on the December works. This is less than perfect because I tried to get this done beforehand, so let’s all play nice.

When Luke left Michigan he never thought that you’d end up dating one of his friends.

Sure you were twins and in the same friend group but the idea of you and one of his previous teammates was truly not something Luke even contemplated. Had he asked his ex housemates to keep an eye on you? Yes. Did he think that it would end up biting him in the ass as you rocked up to the lake house for the summer before your senior year with a boyfriend? Never in a million years, but somehow he was still sat there watching you cuddle Ethan on the couch.

You thought you struck the lottery dating a guy that your brothers already approved of. Ethan treated you well and after months of growing closer as you leaned on the older boy whenever you missed your brother it was no surprise when he finally made a move on you.

It was a warm February evening as Ethan walked you back to your dorm “you know you don’t have to do this every time we leave.” Without fail each time you came home from these parties Ethan was by your side keeping you company “someone has to make sure you get back in one piece.” The hockey player teased as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

You looked up at him with a smile “well thank you for that.” You squeezed his hand as your heels clicked against the concrete path “I’m gonna have to find someone new to walk me home when you get a girl.” You joked letting out a giggle that was like music to Ethan’s ears as you both stopped seeing your dormitory appear in front of you.

Ethan scrunched his face in disgust at those words “not interested in those girls.” He explained shaking his head “didn’t know I’d be fighting men for you.” Amusement was evident on your voice as you crossed your arms.

It made Ethan click his tongue as a laugh left his lips “y/n I’m looking at the damn girl I want.” His words made you stop with wide eyes as your jaw went slack “you better not be fucking with me E.” you warned as the boy reached out to grab your hands with a smile lingering on his face.

Before either of your could wait for wind to push you two together you instead let fate do it “you gonna let me kiss you?” The hockey player asked as he smiled “fuck yeah.” You swore pushing yourself onto your tippy toes so you could kiss him.

Over the next few months the relationship blossomed into the thing that became both of your missing pieces to the puzzle that was your lives. As you kept it to yourselves only letting images hinting to who your boyfriend could have been appear as they got sandwiched into your monthly dumps.

Quinn accepted that you’d eventually tell him who the boy was but what he didn’t think was that Jack and Luke would spend the days leading to the family trip to the lake house with a board guessing who your boyfriend could be.

The umich boys had been sworn to secrecy as you didn’t want to just tell Luke over the phone. Yet as you watched your brothers guide Ethan to the boat you wondered if maybe you should have told the boys sooner “they will play nice I’m sure of it.” Ellen could see the look of worry on her daughters face who could do nothing more than send her daughter a hopeful look that your mom was right.

But of course the Hughes brothers were fulfilling their brotherly duties as they stared down Ethan quickly bombarding him with questions about his intentions. Everything from if he saw himself being in a relationship for the long term with you to what he would do if you got pregnant. Any question they all seemed to not care that it was maybe a bit too far to be asking because as messed up as it seemed in essence they wanted to know if Ethan loved you enough to stay when they got scary.

Luke barely said a few words to his friend as he was still upset that Ethan could have gone behind his back to get with you. So as you helped Ellen start dinner Ethan was actually figuring out the quickest way to get off of the boat “you’re back!” The relieve in your voice was evident as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel and sped to the living room “baby?” You added furrowing your eyebrows as you saw Ethan with a frown on his face “we need to talk.” His hand wrapped into yours as he pulled you to the staircase.

You couldn’t help it as you turned around to send your brothers a glare who could do nothing more than smile “please tell me you boys didn’t do what I think you did.” Ellen sighed as she crossed her arms behind them. Ethan made your heart break as he began pulling his clothes back into his suitcase “could you just talk to me!” You complained making him frown as he stopped “your brothers hate me so it’s for the best if I go.” His words made you feel sick as you furrowed your brows.

Part of you wanted to grow defensive and irritated as the other part of you just hoped to wake up from whatever this was “I know they’re tough but you’re really going to leave because they asked you a couple of questions?” You knew what your brothers were like but you thought Ethan of all people would have survived it.

Your irritation quickly became his too “it wasn’t just a couple fucking questions.” Ethan spat shaking his head “look I love you but I’m not gonna sit here and have my every move questioned for the next two weeks.” Tears began to form in your waterline “maybe we should take a break.” His fingers brushed through his hair as he sighed.

It felt like your world was coming to an end as it dropped off of a ledge “god I thought you were gonna be good.” You didn’t mean to be as harsh as you were but seeing him so ready to leave was a punch to your gut “they’re just protective it’ll blow over!” Your fists clenched “look they are important to you and I think you need to spend time with them.” Ethan cupped your cheeks as he leaned forward to kiss your head.

Maybe you didn’t agree with his logic but you knew that it was only going to end in an argument and for that you kept your mouth shut “I’ll see you out then.” Ethan had to admit that he was partly hurt that you weren’t putting up a fight for him but if only he knew you were holding all of this back because you didn’t want to make this harder.

And you had a sneaky suspicion that your brothers were stood at the door.

As you watched the car roll down the drive you couldn’t help it as you turned to glare at the boys “could you not let me be happy?” You frowned as you looked at your brothers who sat on the couch.

Quinn was the first to shake his head “we are just making sure you’re safe.” He pointed out as Jack nodded “we know hockey players and we know you.” That comment enraged you as you scoffed crossing your arms “you boys don’t know shit!” You hated saying it but you had fallen away from your brothers as they all became NHL players.

You would never admit it but you felt left behind as their lives “last season you all managed to forget my birthday when I fucking share one with you!” You pointed at Luke making him slide further into his seat on the couch.

The boys weren’t proud of the fact that it took a call from Ellen to make them remember that it was the youngest Hughes kids birthday too “Ethan reminds me how to smile and how to be happy.” Tears streamed down your face as the boys finally realised how they had screwed up “y/n.” Quinn was the first to keep up wanting to apologise “just stay out of my way for the rest of summer please.” You were the one sibling who never got mad, Jack broke your toys more times than you could count as a kid but you never lashed out. Luke cut your hair once and all you did was laugh.

But here you were now in tears as you could barley look at your brothers as you pushed up the stairs to your room. Quinn looked down to his younger brothers “we fucked up.” He mumbled falling back into the couch “like big time.” He frowned thinking about how upset you had gotten.

It was clear that all of the boys hadn’t noticed how much they actually pushed away from their sister. With Luke being at school with you they didn’t need to make the effort, so when he went the gap in your life truly begun to show. You were always going to be supportive of them but it felt like you were losing your boys.

Jack led the trio to the door “where are you going?” Ellen furrowed her brows as she watched the boys slip on their shoes “someone has to go get y/n’s boy back for her.” Luke sighed agreeing with his brothers that they all took things too far with Ethan “Quinn is upstairs apologising to y/n.” He added motioning to the steps.

The Hughes boys had a plan.

[icycoldninja]

Hello, can you write about sparda boys + V headcanons about reader who has Maria Antoinette syndrome (Canities subita, also called Marie Antoinette syndrome or Thomas More syndrome, is an alleged condition of hair turning white overnight due to stress or trauma) because they had to fight at a young age (like being a child soldier, but currently in a higher rank like a general, idk)?

I love your headcanons, hope you have great day

Thank you, I will, and hope you do too! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Reader with Marie Antoinette syndrome headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante just thought you'd inherited Sparda genes somehow. Maybe his old man banged your great-great-old woman a while back and now you have the signature white hair.

-Hearing you backstory made him realize how traumatic your childhood must have been. His heart ached for you.

-Knowing that you are not his distant half-sibling or something means romantic advances are not out of line. He really wants to help you.

-He'll be there if you want to trauma dump all your experiences as a child soldier, and won't judge you for any of it.

-What they did to you was wrong, and he will make sure you know that he loves you and that he thinks you're perfect.

-He tells you he thinks your hair is really cool, because it's true, and can now confidently say you're twinning.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil never gave much thought to your appearance.

-Sure, it was odd that a non-Sparda youth has white hair, but then again it could just be dye or kooky genes.

-Learning of your tragic past made all the pieces of the puzzle click together. It was a rare syndrome that you had, but an interesting one.

-He sympathizes with your having to fight at such a young age. He did too.

-Vergil's not very good at cheering people up, so don't expect long, wordy speeches about how amazing you are.

-He shows his love for you by MOTIVATING you throughout your day, helping you whenever you need assistance.

□ Nero □

-Nero thought your hair was cool as hell, just like his.

-He never wondered why your hair was that color because he honestly didn't care.

-Learning you had Marie Antoinette syndrome worried him; were there other effects that have yet to reveal themselves?

-Your past was definitely concerning and most likely the cause behind your syndrome taking affect.

-He's concerned you'll start prematurely aging whenever you get stressed and is now trying to take all your responsibilities so you don't turn into a mummy overnight.

-You'll have to explain to him that's not how it works, or he'll end up overworked and exhausted himself.

● V ●

-V thought you were an interesting person with an interesting appearance.

-He often wondered why your hair was so white, since you were so young and didn't seem to be of demon descent.

-However, he held his tongue, fearing it might be linked to a traumatic event from your past.

-He was right, too. You eventually told him that your syndrome kicked in when you were a child, fighting in some war.

-This information was quite depressing; V decided he would take care of you from now on in whatever way he could, because you deserved to be loved and cherished.

-He's very supportive and sweet towards you, and with time, he could probably help you recover from your trauma.