#seen: me inhaling and exhaling deeply because i talk too much.

[prosperae]

If Rachel was to leave Arcadia Bay on her own or with Chloe, what’s the plan once they’ve actually arrived at their destination?

UNPROMPTED CHARACTER ANALYSIS., feat. @ottersden.

Straight to the point answer: She doesn't know.

Now, lemme elaborate on that, asdgkjakldsj—

Rachel's primary concern is getting out of Arcadia Bay. However, it is important to note that as much as she has dreams, hopes and wishes, Rachel does not plan for a number of reasons but most of all because until she disowned her father and vice versa, her entire life followed a plan, his plan, and because to plan anything takes a decent amount of responsibility, which Rachel severely lacks.

Why is that? As strained as her and her father's relationship was, prior to cutting each other out of their lives, it isn't a reach to say that she was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth. Now, while the Ambers weren't as well off as the Prescott's, for example, they were well off, and James provided for Rachel, everything including everything she asked for. (This, however, does not take away the fact that he emotionally abused her her entire life. As many say, a golden cage is still a cage.) For this reason, it is an ideal of Rachel's that everything will fall into place, alongside nothing is impossible.

With that said, the extent of Rachel's planning to get out of Arcadia Bay is saying she's going to get out of Arcadia Bay. Everything in-between is simply unknown to her, truthfully because of the fact that she doesn't know where to begin—and rather than figure it out herself, she dumps the responsibility of getting out on other people, which we see her do with Chloe. Specifically, in LIS:BTS, in the junkyard prior to play, during which she says more or less, 'You found an escape vehicle, cool, don't worry about it not running, you'll figure it out... oh, and B-T-W, we're going to need some money--'

No, Rachel doesn't outright say it, but it is what she implies, there and in the scene following the play, where her and Chloe are wandering back to Rachel's house.

Neither here nor there, but amongst the things that really intrigue me is that from the interaction above, we kind of, sort of see that Chloe grasps and understands the reality that prior to escaping, they're going to need to prepare. They're going to need money, they're going to need a stable, working vehicle. Rachel, on the other hand, doesn't, and is solely focused on getting out. Whatever happens beyond that... well, that's purely up to God! Which, I think, offers a glimpse of how / etc. Chloe and Rachel's relationship evolves; Rachel relies on Chloe, Chloe takes care of Rachel, no matter if their relationship is platonic or romantic.

It isn't a stretch either, in my opinion, to say that Rachel never really 'grows up', or more specifically, never really stops trying to delegate responsibility that should be hers and hers alone to other people, which we learn through an optional conversation as Max in LIS. At a certain point, Rachel became so desperate to leave Arcadia Bay, that she started asking truckers who were passing through for rides out of town.

All of this is to say: Beyond getting out of Arcadia Bay, Rachel doesn't have a plan. She knows she wants to go back to California, (which... don't even get me started on, that's an entirely different meta in and of itself) but beyond that? 🤷‍♀️ And Rachel wanting to be an actress / a model / etc. isn't any different, as in she knows she wants to be an actress, and a model, and to see her name everywhere, but she doesn't know how to make it happen on her own.

Her only concern is getting out, entirely because she has it in her head that getting out will solve every one of her problems, but the reality will catch up with her eventually, and she will wind up just as lost as she is / was in Arcadia Bay.

[oizysian]

XII. THEN WE’LL TALK

Word count: 1.3k

All Eyes on Me masterlist

•

Y/N, Lizzie called me crying. You need to talk to her.

It's been two weeks. You haven't streamed, you haven't gone out. What have you been doing?

I let out a deep sigh, rolling the blunt between my fingers, Brie's voice echoing in my head. Lizzie missed me. She needed me, but I was a coward and only knew how to run from people when things got complicated.

I sniffled, swallowing roughly as I thought about the woman I had walked away from completely for her own good. Without me in her life she could be happy with her husband without the fear and doubt of an affair hanging over their heads. Maybe she hadn't done anything wrong, but she could've. I definitely would've given the chance, but I would have regretted it. Just like I regretted everything I did.

I slammed my hand down on the cold tile in frustration and leaned my head against the sink, my mind racing as it had been for two whole weeks. The weed helped silence it for a while, but the more I replayed Brie's messages in my head, the louder my thoughts got about Lizzie.

Had I been wrong to walk away? We didn't do anything wrong. Not really.

I picked my phone up off the floor and unlocked it, browsing Twitter to get my mind off of literally everything.

CELEBRITY SIGHTING:

Elizabeth Olsen and Robbie Arnett were seen out and about in LA this week.

She looked good in the picture; happy, healthy, but then again, she was a good actress. They probably went out together on purpose considering it had been a while since they had been out in public with each other. Her last two sets of paparazzi photos were with me.

I licked my dry lips, quickly tweeting out that I was sorry for disappearing, but I was fine and streams would start up again soon. Almost instantly, comments flooded in wishing me well and hoping that everything was okay. I couldn't reply to everyone, so I just liked the kind comments and ignored the ones that were rude or mentioned Lizzie. Nobody needed to know my fucking business. I was still a person, I deserved my privacy despite what the world thought. And so did she.

The last two weeks had been hell between ignoring Lizzie's calls and texts and dealing with Brie and Claire trying to talk some sense into me. I knew they were right, that it was just gossip and Robbie would get over it, but the risk of her marriage ending because I had feelings for her was too much for me to ignore. Maybe she liked me too, or maybe she was just a flirty person - who knew, but what I did know was that I wasn't going to be the reason her marriage ended.

But, their marriage hadn't ended. According to Twitter, they were a happy couple and nothing was wrong between them. Which was good! So, why wasn't I happy about it?

At the moment, I wasn't happy about fucking anything. The only thing that could make me happy was Lizzie, and I let her go.

I brought the blunt up to my lips and inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than to just forget for a little while. I kept the smoke in my mouth for a moment before exhaling.

Why was I making such a big deal about this? She barely knew me. I barely knew her. It was for the best that I ended our friendship before it became something more.

My phone rang, nearly making me jump out of my skin, and I peeked to check who it was. Brie. I took another toke and answered.

"Hello?" I said, my voice straining from holding in the smoke.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing?"

"Smoking. Why?"

"Why aren't you speaking to Lizzie? Ignoring her like this isn't going to help the situation any."

"I'm making it go away."

"No, you're making yourself look like a child."

"Whatever, Brie." I released the smoke from my mouth. "What do you care anyway?"

"Oh, so on top of being a child, you're also gonna act like a bitch?"

"Oh, fuck you, man."

"Fuck me? After everything I've gone through trying to help you get the girl, you're gonna say 'fuck me'?"

"I didn't ask for any of this!"

"No, you didn't, but it all happened and you're in it now, so put on your big girl panties and deal with it."

"I don't want to. I don't want Elizabeth."

I lied.

"Then what do you want Y/N?" She asked with frustration in her voice.

"You."

She was quiet on the line and I knew I fucked up. I grimaced, leaning my face against my propped up knees. Why did I have to open my mouth and say stupid shit?

"You don't mean that." She sounded sad. "You're just hurting."

"I can be friends with Lizzie again if I'm with you." Why was I still speaking? "If Robbie sees I'm with someone, he'll leave her alone about her having an affair."

"Are you trying to use me to get back in Lizzie's good graces?"

"No! I-I'm just trying to fix this and make everyone happy."

"You being with me out of pity or ... whatever this is, will not make anyone happy."

"It's not pity, Brie. I like you."

"You like me. You love her."

"I love the idea of her! I don't know her and she doesn't know me! I know you. I know we can make each other happy. Please, Brie."

"We'll talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now."

"Talk to Lizzie. Make up with her."

"If I do that, then will you be my girlfriend?"

"No."

"No?" Tears welled up in my eyes. First Lizzie, now Brie.

"You don't mean it. Prove that you mean it and I might change my mind. Until then, no."

It was wrong for me to use Brie to get over Lizzie, but it was true, I did like her ... just not the same way I liked Lizzie. I knew this was the only way I would be able to get close to Lizzie again. I had to be with someone, prove that I'm not a threat, stop acting the way I've been acting towards her. I needed someone.

"Go on a date with me. Let me give you a kiss goodnight. Let's watch the stars and pick one as ours. Let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

She didn't speak for a while and I thought for a moment that she had hung up on me.

"I'm not her."

I sighed.

"I know. I know who you are."

"I'll let you kiss me, but forget all that romantic shit."

"Okay, fine, no romance. Just us."

"So, you want to be friends with benefits?"

"No! No. I just ..." I rubbed my hand over my face. "I don't know what I want."

"That's the problem, Y/N. Make up with Lizzie. Then we'll talk."

"Brie -"

She hung up on me. I kicked the hamper in next to me in pure rage, knowing that I just fucked up another friendship. Either that, or Brie and I would be a different type of friend after this.

I put the joint out on my floor, smashing it into the tile and leaning my head into my hands, frustration seeping from every inch of my body.

Hot tears spilled from my eyes as I thought about Lizzie, as I thought about Brie, as I thought about the hole I kept digging for myself. Did I like Brie enough to be with her despite possibly having a connection with Lizzie?

The answer was ... yeah. I could be with Brie. Would I do it, though? Could I do it for Lizzie?

Was it fair to Brie? No, but we'd both get what we wanted. Wasn't that all that mattered?

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 19: Clock

“Mamá, I have to go help out in town,” Luisa called out.

“Okay, querida.” Julieta glanced outside, noticing the sun hanging midway between its peak in the sky and the horizon. “Do you know when you’ll be done? I don’t want you missing dinner again.”

Luisa racked her brain. “Well, I only have to reroute the river- wait, no, that was yesterday. Or was that the day before?” She groaned in frustration. “I don’t remember what today’s job was. Everyone was talking too fast for me to hear. But I don’t think it’ll take long.”

“All right…” Julieta trailed off, not entirely convinced. “Be home by dinner.”

“I will, I promise.” Luisa gingerly wrapped her arm around her mother, careful not to crush her. “Bye, mamá.”

Julieta watched as she ran down the path leading into town. She was proud of Luisa for helping so much around town, but sometimes people asked a lot of her. She’d seen Luisa lifting heavy objects from sunrise to sunset without complaint. Even someone as strong as her must get tired sometimes. Yet Julieta had never heard her refuse to help anyone. It was a lesson she had instilled in her daughters, but she didn’t realize just how demanding people would be. Half the time, Luisa would either not eat with her family, or leave halfway through because she had to help someone. Luisa was strong for everyone but herself, and it worried Julieta a bit.

To take her mind off her thoughts, she started on dinner. Chopping, mixing, simmering… the sound of her knife and the crackle of the fire were loud enough to silence her worries. She got so lost in the process that she didn’t even notice how much time had passed until the daylight began growing dimmer.

Setting down her mixing spoon, Julieta looked over at the clock. It was getting close to dinnertime. Didn’t Luisa say she’d be done soon? What kind of “soon” took a few hours? Julieta’s lips pressed in a thin line. It wasn’t quite dinnertime yet. Maybe she would be back before.

Julieta tried to focus on finishing up dinner, but she kept throwing distracted glances at the clock in the corner. Her thoughts had become so loud that when the clock chimed a new hour, she ended up splattering sauce all over herself.

This is why we wear aprons in the kitchen, she thought, wiping her sticky hands on the now sullied apron. If only she didn’t have to stay in the kitchen! She would already have searched half the town looking for Luisa. Where could she possibly be?

“Hola, mamá.” Isabela glided through the door, pressing a soft kiss to Julieta’s cheek.

“Hola, Isa.”

Julieta must have sounded distracted because Isabela frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Julieta sighed. “Have you seen Luisa? She went into town a few hours, but she said she’d be home soon. I don’t know what’s keeping her.”

Isabela chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe she got roped into helping more people? You know how she can’t say no to anyone.”

Like herself, and Isabela, and Mirabel… Julieta had been afraid of that, but she exhaled forcefully, putting on a brave smile for Isabela. “Hopefully she’s done soon. I’d hate for her to miss dinner again.”

“Especially when it smells this good, mamá.” Isabela inhaled deeply, letting out a dreamy sigh. Seeing her mother’s expression remain unchanged, she looked over at the clock uneasily. “It’s still early, mamá. She’ll be home in time.”

“Thanks, Isabela.” Julieta hugged her absently.

“See you at dinner.” With a swoosh of her silky long hair, she was gone.

With a grim resignation, Julieta forced herself to keep cooking, but her heart wasn’t in it. The minutes ticked on, that stupid clock taunting her with the absence of her daughter. At one point, she was watching the clock so intently that the pot almost boiled over. Cursing under her breath, she lowered the flame. Why wasn’t Luisa home yet?

“Hey, mamá.” Mirabel had appeared out of nowhere, squeezing her in a tight hug.

“Hi, Mirabel.” Julieta allowed herself to sink into the hug. Mirabel was almost as tall as her now, and if it wasn’t for the glasses, she’d be the spitting image of a teenaged Julieta. “Did you have a good day today?”

Mirabel nodded. “Yeah, papá and I helped out around town.”

Julieta peered over at the door to see Agustín wave at her shyly. He appeared suspiciously free of injuries. “Did you now? And you managed to keep your papá out of trouble?”

Mirabel giggled. “It wasn’t easy, but I got him home unscathed.”

“Hey!” Agustín protested. “It’s not like I get hurt all the time!”

“Of course not, Agustín.” Julieta decided to humor him, walking over and patting his cheek.

Mirabel tilted her head, studying her. “You seem weird, mamá,” she decided. “You okay?”

Julieta let out a shaky sigh. “Luisa isn’t home yet, and I’m starting to worry about her,” she admitted.

Mirabel frowned, turning to look at the clock. “She left hours ago.”

I know! Julieta wanted to scream. Instead, she kept her voice as level as she could. “I know.”

“Maybe we should go look for her,” Agustín suggested.

Julieta shrugged. “Believe me, I want to, but I have to finish dinner.”

“I can help you with that,” Mirabel and Agustín said in unison.

Julieta smiled. They were so sweet. But she definitely didn’t want Agustín anywhere near all the dangers in the kitchen. “That’s so sweet of you to offer. Seeing as it is getting close to dinnertime, why don’t you round up the others, Agustín?” That would keep him out of harm’s way.

“You got it, Juli.” He gave her a soft kiss and then left.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, mamá?” Mirabel asked hesitantly.

No. She didn’t need help. What she needed was to see Luisa walk through the door because it was…fifteen minutes to dinner, according to the clock. “No, Mira. Thank you. I’m just worried about Luisa…”

“I can go look for her?”

Mirabel looked at her with such hope-filled eyes. Julieta knew that Mirabel would do anything for her family. But she didn’t want any more empty seats at dinner. “That’s okay, Mirabel. I don’t want you to miss dinner too.”

She had resigned herself to the fact that Luisa would not be there for dinner, yet a small part of her kept hoping as they set the table. The ticking of the clock was unbearably loud now, threatening to make her head explode.

Finally, just as Julieta had lost all hope, Luisa ran in through the door. “I didn’t miss dinner, did I?” She panted out breathlessly.

Julieta sized her up. Luisa was sweaty, flyaway strands of hair sticking out from all over her bun. “Almost, but you made it here just in time. What happened, Luisa?”

Luisa let out a long-suffering sigh. “You know how people are. When they see me, they think of five other things that need to be done. And I can’t just not help them, mamá. It’s not right.”

Of course not. If you were able to help, you should help. It was the right thing to do. Luisa had clearly mastered that lesson. “Of course not, mi vida.” She brushed a sweaty strand of hair up over Luisa’s ear. “Go wash up. It’s time for dinner.”

And as the clock chimed another hour, Julieta surveyed her table, pleased to see every seat filled.

[zoeyhope24]

We All Die One Day [Aegis×You (Fiction)]

Contains:Mentions of death, angst, positive affirmations, and fluff.

Aegis: y/n.....what's wrong, my dear?

You: *hyperventilating* they're dead.....they're dead......they're fucking dead......no no no no no no no

Aegis: Why don't I escort you to your dorm room so we can talk somewhere private.

You: *still hyperventilating* .....yeah, okay....

5 minutes later

You: I refuse, no, they're dead, but they're not dead, yes, no?

Aegis: We're here, y/n.

You: What? Oh, thanks.

Aegis: Let's sit down and speak on your issue. *sits on game chair beside pc*

You: ... *sits on bean bag*

Aegis: Before we state on the matter, we must take some deep breaths. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Be slow about it, dear, and relax your muscles as you loosen your nerves. Breathe in.....and out.

You: *takes deep breaths and cools down*

Aegis: Now tell me, y/n dear.....what has caused such panic through your body and mind. I hear you say something, or someone, has died.

You: Yeah.......someone died. It's (deceased being). Was told they passed away due to (cause of death)......I looked up to them a lot. And to hear that they're no longer breathing just......just........no.....

Aegis: I see you are on the verge of crying.

You: I'm about to have a mental breakdown. I wanna scream so bad.

Aegis: Would you like something to muffle your screams?

You: Please because I'm about to lose my shit.

Aegis: As you wish, y/n. *gently grabs a pillow*

Aegis: Shriek into this. Scream as loud as you want. Cry if you have to. You will feel better afterwards.

You: I......I.......*screams into pillow*

Aegis: *kneels down to comfort* *gently places hand on back and caresses with palm*

You: *screams and cries into pillow for a few minutes*

Aegis: Let it all out, dear. I seen death, too.

You: *calms down after a few more minutes* I just don't wanna think about it.

Aegis: You are not alone, dear. I have seen people die in front of my eyes. Tears were shed each time, however there was nothing I could do.

You: Damn.....so, you been through a lot worse, huh?

Aegis: I have, my dear. However, I do not use these words to diminish your feelings and validation. We all die one day, y/n. Death is a part of life. The spirit of this....(deceased being) will live on now and is no longer suffering. Mustn't you dwell on this tragedy. However, you must find time to grieve. Do not slumber for a period of time because you, love, must find....what humans these days "hobbies" to distract yourself from the depression. I apologize deeply for the loss of (deceased being) and I wish to give you my humble condolences.

You: ......*cries silently and smiles* thank you so much, Aegis. I honestly thought you wouldn't understand me.....depicting you were built in the 1700s, but you understood our language and know how to help people. Thank you, girl.

Aegis: *smiles* Would you like for me to make you dinner to fill you up before you slumber to your dreams?

In case anyone is dealing with any recent deaths, I'm here if you need to talk. You are valid and it's okay to feel emotional when shit like this happens. Sending my deepest condolences to you, your friends, and family. 🕊🕊🕊

[tomywolf]

MEETING

Nonchalance had crept back into my system, uninvited but necessary. Though I didn’t appreciate its presence, I knew I needed it—an armor against the vulnerability that had consumed me for far too long. Slowly, I stopped caring. I stopped wondering if he was with someone else, if he ever truly loved me, or if I had simply been another fleeting moment in his life.

What lingered in my mind, however, wasn’t forgetting him. The idea of erasing him from my memory felt unbearable, almost like denying a part of myself. Even if I hated him forever, there was a strange, stubborn part of me that wanted to hold onto the memory of that jerk. Hopefully, in time, I could remember him without the grudges, without the anger that burned quietly beneath the surface.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the railing of the terrace, the cold metal grounding me. The road below was still empty, the quietness amplifying my thoughts. The truth was, despite everything, I didn’t want to lose the parts of me that had loved so deeply, even if that love had been misplaced. It had been real to me. It had been all-consuming, flawed, and beautiful in its own way. Forgetting him felt like losing that piece of myself, and I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

I tilted my head up, letting the cool night air brush against my face. Maybe someday I’d smile at the memories instead of wincing. Maybe someday I’d be able to think of him without the bitterness and the what-ifs. But for now, I embraced the numbness that had settled in. It wasn’t peace, but it was better than the chaos.

A sudden memory surged through me, vivid and unrelenting—the second time we fucked. His lips, warm and insistent, his given nickname for me rolling off his tongue with a teasing smile. He used to ask me, over and over, "what happened to you" with so much love, as if it was a secret only we shared. The way i synced with him on that uncomfortable chair, him talking me through that day explaining with a single sentence, this was more than sex, The thought burned, scorching through my chest, making it harder to breathe.

I could almost feel his touch again—the way his hand gripped my thigh with a force that was as intoxicating as it was bruising. For a fleeting moment, it was everything I had ever wanted. That was the only time, according to me, where we were truly aligned, where I let myself melt into him despite being painfully sober.

My hands shook as I fumbled for a cigarette. The lighter flared, casting fleeting light on my trembling fingers as I inhaled deeply, desperate for anything to distract me. But the memories wouldn’t let go. His voice, his laugh, his touch—they rushed at me all at once, like a relentless tide I couldn’t escape. Restless, I let out a bitter chuckle, my lips curling into a smirk as I whispered to myself, “No. You can’t go back to him. You can’t. You shouldn’t.”

The words hung in the air like a mantra, fighting against the storm in my mind. “He’ll make you unbelievably obsessed.” I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling into the night, carrying with it my fleeting resolve. But the thought lingered, dark and sharp as a knife: “And if not obsessed, worse—death.”

The weight of it all sat heavy on my chest. I knew the truth of my own words. Going back to him wasn’t love; it was self-destruction wrapped in longing. Still, a part of me, the part that whispered of how good it had once felt, rebelled against that knowledge. I stayed rooted in place, forcing myself to stay present, to remember why I had to let him go.

I sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that comes from a place too heavy for words to carry. It wasn’t just about him being good in bed—that wasn’t what kept him so deeply rooted in my mind. No, it was because, with him, I could fully submit. Not in a way that made me feel lesser but in a way that made me feel seen, understood, connected. That kind of connection had only happened once with him, in the most unexpected and uncomfortable way possible. And yet, I felt it.

I could still feel the morning we shared etched into my skin, replaying in my head like a haunting melody I couldn’t shake. He couldn’t make me feel that way again, not now, not with the way he was now—the distant, nonchalant version of him that had replaced the man I thought I knew. But that morning? That morning was different. It still lived fresh in my head, a bittersweet memory too vivid to forget.

Each time I tried to hate him, each time I swore I was done with him, his memories would flash before my eyes more vividly than before. It was almost cruel—the way they came rushing back just as I tried to push him away. The way his laugh echoed in the quietest corners of my mind. The way his touch still felt like it lingered on my skin, even in the absence of his presence.

It was getting tougher with each passing moment, a numb kind of pain that spread deeper the more I resisted it. The harder I tried to convince myself I hated him, the more tightly his memory gripped me, refusing to let go. My heart and mind were locked in a battle, and I couldn’t tell who was winning—or if there even was a winner at all.

Feeling too much all at once, it was as though his presence surrounded me, even though he wasn’t there. His thoughts fogged my mind, filling every corner with memories that didn’t align with the anger simmering beneath. And yet, the worst part was the undeniable truth—I knew that if I saw him struggling, I’d probably open my arms again. I’d melt into his embrace, ignoring the shards of pain he’d left behind. That was the problem: I couldn’t trust myself to let go.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize it was already 3 a.m. A soft pat on my back startled me, sending a jolt through my system. My heart raced as I flinched, the words spilling out of my mouth sharper than intended. “Fucking hell,” I muttered, completely startled.

I turned around quickly and was met with the familiar sight of the tall hunk once again. His easy smile lit up the dim night as he held up two bottles in his hands. “Wanna drink, miss?” he asked, his tone casual but warm.

Despite my inner chaos, I couldn’t resist the thought of comfort—even fleeting and shallow comfort. So, I nodded, allowing a small smile to cross my lips. He handed me one of the bottles and took a seat beside me, his presence somehow easing the tension in my chest.

“I saw you coming up here, so I thought you might need some company,” he said, his voice light and unassuming. As his gaze drifted over me, it landed on the burn mark on my left arm. His brows furrowed, and a hint of concern colored his voice as he added, “Oh Jesus, you’re about to lose your mole here.”

I glanced down at the mark, momentarily surprised by his observation. It wasn’t something I had thought much about lately, too consumed by other wounds—ones that didn’t show on the surface. His concern caught me off guard, but I managed a chuckle, trying to deflect the moment.

“It’s fine,” I said, brushing it off lightly, but he didn’t seem convinced. His eyes lingered for a second longer before he leaned back and took a swig from his bottle, as though trying to decide how far he could push the conversation.

"You don't mind if your mole will be gone?" he asked, his tone casual but curious, and for a moment, I froze.

It hit me like a freight train. That mole—it wasn’t just any mole. It aligned with his, that jerk's. I could still vividly recall the moment we noticed it on our first date. I remembered how his eyebrows shot up in amused surprise when I offhandedly said, “Oh, I have one here too.” His smile that followed, so uncharacteristically soft and pure, was unforgettable.

Maybe it was the tequila coursing through his veins that night, making him drop his usual nonchalant act and look so... cute. For once, the mask had slipped, and it was just him—raw and real—smiling over something as silly as a mole alignment.

Snapping back to the present, I felt a lump rise in my throat. Without thinking too hard, I immediately said, “I hope my mole doesn’t go away.” My voice came out softer than I intended, and I quickly added, “If it does, I’ll just get a tattoo over this scar.”

He raised his eyebrows at my response but didn’t say anything, just nodded thoughtfully. There was no teasing in his expression, no quips about how odd my attachment to a mole was. He simply took another sip of his drink, as though giving me space to process whatever was going through my head.

And for a brief moment, I wondered if he could sense the storm of emotions I was trying to bottle up. If he noticed the faint quiver in my voice or the way my grip on the bottle had tightened. But he didn’t press, and I was grateful for that.

He looked at me and gave me a soft smile, one of those fleeting expressions that didn’t need words to convey understanding. I couldn’t help but smile back, though it felt fragile, like a shard of glass. “Still no calls, right?” he asked, though his tone carried more certainty than curiosity.

I shook my head childishly, forcing myself to sound nonchalant as I replied, “It’s okay. Like you said, I at least got my answer.”

He nodded, finishing the last sip of his drink before whispering just loud enough for me to hear, “What a fool.”

Tilting my head in confusion, I blinked at him. “Huh?”

He laughed—a deep, warm sound that immediately made me laugh too, even though I wasn’t sure why. Between chuckles, he finally replied, “Seriously, who fumbles a girl like you? Genuinely idiotic.”

His words caught me off guard, and my first instinct was defense. I raised my eyebrows sharply, crossing my arms. “I’m not someone dying for a man’s validation after ending a situationship, so please, shut the fuck up,” I shot back, rolling my eyes and looking away with an exaggerated huff.

He laughed again, not the least bit deterred by my reaction. “I wasn’t validating you,” he said, his voice steady yet light. “I was being serious. Genuine.”

His tone softened toward the end, and I glanced at him sideways, unsure of what to say. There was no smugness in his expression, no hint that he was trying to flirt or play games. He just… said it.

The simplicity of his words, the way he said them without expecting anything in return, caught me off guard. I stayed quiet, letting the moment linger, and in that silence, I felt a strange warmth settle into the spaces his words left behind.

He casually checked my phone status right in front of me, raising an eyebrow. “How do you keep catching 11:11 all the time?” he asked, smirking slightly.

I chuckled, my eyes lingering on the time displayed. “Did you know I didn’t believe in this at first? But now, every time I see it, I say, ‘I love you,’ to him. I just say it in the air, and, weirdly enough, it makes me happy.”

For a second, he looked like he was about to applaud sarcastically but instead gave me a side hug. It was brief but unexpected, and I immediately shifted in my spot, moving uncomfortably.

Noticing, he pulled back and softened his tone. “I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

I shook my head, trying to compose myself. “It’s not that. Actually…” I hesitated before continuing as politely as I could. “I just don’t like men touching me. That’s why I had to break up in my previous relationships. Physical touch never felt good emotionally. They were great in bed, and I still hated it. And that’s why I’m having trouble moving on from him... because I actually liked his touch.”

I paused, gauging his reaction before adding, “Technically, his touch was the first touch I’ve liked in a while. But even so, I don’t even have pictures with a lot of people because I can’t stand anyone touching me.”

Finishing my explanation, I leaned back slightly, trying to avoid sounding overly defensive. I could tell he was processing what I said, and there was a faint furrow in his brow.

He exhaled, tilting his head as if examining me. “You may not realize it,” he said slowly, “but you’re a very interesting one, I swear.”

That did it. I frowned, feeling irritation rising in my chest. Standing up abruptly, I snapped, “I warned you once—playtime is over, sir. Ciao.”

As I turned to walk away, I could hear him laughing softly behind me. “What’s with your anger issues?” he called out. “So what if I complimented you? Can’t believe you’re loyal to someone who’s probably with someone else.”

That stopped me in my tracks, the audacity of his words igniting my frustration even more. Without looking back, I raised my middle finger up and flipped him off.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him smile in response, clearly unfazed. His amused laughter echoed faintly as I stormed back to my room.

“Fucking bastard,” I muttered under my breath as I slammed the door shut behind me. The sound reverberated through the quiet, but it didn’t feel like enough. I leaned against the door, clenching my fists, angry at him—and at myself for even talking to this stupid asshole.

That irritation simmered, bubbling under my skin, and only served to fuel the anger more. I paced the room, trying to shake it off, but his words lingered like a taunting echo. His smug smile, his casual dismissal—it all combined into a perfect cocktail of frustration that I couldn’t swallow down.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, I grabbed my phone. My thumb hovered over the screen as I muttered to myself, “Time to socialize,” my voice laced with mock enthusiasm.

Before I could second-guess the impulse, I tapped on the app store and searched for the cursed app, where i met him—the one I swore I’d never touch again. It felt ridiculous and almost pathetic, but the anger coursing through me demanded some kind of outlet. Downloading the app seemed easier than sitting with my emotions and replaying every word of that infuriating conversation.

The progress bar inched forward, and I watched it with a detached, almost mechanical focus. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I hated this app for the connections it brought, for the illusions it created, and yet, here I was, bringing it back into my life.

“Let’s see what the universe has in store this time,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head at myself. My irritation burned hotter, but beneath it, there was something else—a quiet ache that no amount of swiping could ever truly cure.

[nytehavyn-circle]

He rolled over and showed her his back properly. It was scarred to hell, looking like a topographical road map. Some straight, some jagged. Some scars were light, some were thick and angry-looking. Some of the scars were horizontal, some were vertical.

"What ya see right now... is punishment, Some scars er from my 'Huntin, and several of them er from bein' tortured." Tolaas swallowed hard. His voice was so quiet, so vulnerable... and he sounded meek right now.

"I weren't always a kind person, Anne," he inhaled deeply, but the breath caught in his throat when he tried to exhale. The breath hitched and he was finally able to exhale fully.

Jesus, he hoped to the gods that what he was about to tell her wouldn't change her love for him. Most people he'd been with didn't know about his past history. Mori did, and Anne soon would. He was making himself vulnerable for her because she deserved to know.

"When I started 'Huntin in the human world, outside a'the ShadowLands, I created hell. I caused havoc 'cross the contrysides, from continent ta continent. I didn't know any better at that point, 'cause I really wasn't taught compassion when I was bein' trained ta be a 'Hunter in the ShadowLands. I was taught ta destroy any escaped ShadowDemons at any cost. So I did."

He sighed again, his voice so very soft as he spoke. And it was full of fear, as well. This was so difficult for him to talk about, but Anne needed to know.

Tolaas slowly sat up, keeping his back to her, so she could see his 'story' written out in the scars on his back.

"Well, one day, one a'the villages I crashed ta the ground retaliated. I was beaten severely an' left fer dead at the edge a'the forest. While I was dyin', this man approached me. Told me his name - Terran Nytefyer. Told me he'd been watching me fer a while an' could help me if'n I wanted it. But I had ta ask ta be saved from certain death... So I begged and pleaded fer him ta save me, ta snatch me from the jaws a'death. He granted my request an' sired me."

He ran a hand through his hair, scratched his head lightly, and let his hand fall back into his lap.

"He tried ta teach em, ta help me grow. But I got worse. With my newfound abilities, I got a lil' power hungry. I started hurtin' people on purpose. I'd do things ta cause fights, just so I could hurt someone. An' I took pleasure from it."

He shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder back at Anne. "This went on fer a few years. Until Terran had had 'nuff a'watchin' me abuse what was given ta me. He caught me, and tossed me inta the dungeon a'NyteHavyn. Let's just say I learned how ta 'ppreciaate humanity durin' my time down there. When he finally released me, I wasn interested in how humanity changed. I traveled the world, startin' ta help people where I could, instead a'hurtin'. An' it felt good. It felt better."

Tolaas turned on the bed to look at Anne. "It's easy ta be bad an' evil. It takes no thought. Ya just do. But it takes work ta be a good an' kind person. Ya hafta fight fer it, want it with everythin' ya have in ya. Ya hafta choose it an' want it. An' then spread it 'round. I slowly found this out. An' the more I did it, the more I wanted ta help instead a'hinder. I watched humanity grow, watched nations rise an' fall, kings an' queens be benevolent er sadistic..."

He shook his head, lightly scratched his chest. "I even began to fight in wars an' battles, always tyin' ta take the fight of what was right - an' not always realizin' that sometimes I was on the wrong side, 'till too late."

"Over the centuries, what I've seen a'humanity thrills me, fills me with joy. Ta see what ya've created, how ya've progressed as a people. Yes, there's lots bad in the world, 'specially right now, but there's so much more good. People er mostly good."

"I even began to find out how amazin' love was - an' still is. How it can make ya fly, er even sometimes crash an' burn. But still make ya feel grateful ya experienced it."

"The scared ya see on my back er my punishment, as I said - but they're also a reminder that some people can be redeemed, even if'n it comes with a price. I believe I'm still payin' fer my sins in some way, but I refuse ta go back ta those dark days a'my past."

He narrowed his eyebrows, and his eyes, staring at the bed but not seeing it. "It would be so easy to go back... but then I would lose everythin' I had. I'd lose what I've done ta keep my humanity, ta fight for redemption, ta pay fer my sins. I refuse. With everythin' in me, I refuse."

Tolaas locked eyes with her. "That's why I love so hard and deep. Because people deserve ta be loved, they deserve ta be cared for. They deserve ta know that they're worthy a'love. Because love makes the world better, makes people better. I've lost so many people in my life, Anne. An' I'll prolly lose more. But while they're here, the people I love an' care fer will always know how much I love 'em. I'll never give 'em a reason ta think otherwise."

He reached over, took her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed it, gave t a soft squeeze then let it go.

"I hate talkin' 'bout my past, 'cause I can't do anythi' bout how I used ta be. All I can do - all I want ta do - is keep bein' kind, keep helpin' people. All the torture I've suffered, old an' new, is just a reminder a'how far I've come. An' how much further I have ta go."

And that was it. Everything he had to say in those moments fell from his lips. The words were laid bare, filled with sandess, and remorse, some words were tinged with fear; other words were laced with a deep love and understanding. And tears fell from his eyes as he told her all of this.

But there it was. Anne now knew why he was the way he was, why he suffered from PTSD, and why he loved so fully when he did love.

He waited for her reaction, her response. He waited with bated breath, waited on pins and needles.

Please, gods, don't let her stop loving me...

@frombehindpaleeyes

Tolaas listened, and his face contorted with sadness. "Oh, baby," he whispered. "I didn't know... I'm so sorry." He stroked her cheek with his thumb after she placed his hand there. "An' there's no more pain? Er does it still bother ya from time ta time?" he asked.

He gave a heavy sigh and decided she needed to learn the truth, if she was to understand anything about him, she needed to learn the truth.

He had already told Mori, long ago, shortly after they met and started being together, because of the intense and almost fate-intended convergence of decisions that had led them together because their intense connection and attraction to each other had seemed purposeful, as driven by a higher hand.

Tolaas' connection to Anne had been almost just as strong, too. And he firmly believed they were meant to be together, as well; as if, once more, their fates had been guided, purposefully, to intertwine.

He'd believed he was meant to be together with his other partners, too, but it was more like they had found out they had gotten along, and there was something between them, but it had taken longer for the feeling of being in love had surfaced. With Mori and Anne, it had been almost instant.

Therefore, he wasn't ready to tell his other partners. Probably wouldn't tell them for a while yet. Even though they loved each other, he didn't know how they would judge him for his sins of the past.

But he believed... no, he knew that Anne wouldn't judge him.

Eyes still brimming with tears, Tolaas cleared his throat. I'm gonna tell ya somethin'... an' it's gonna take a bit. But I'mma need ya ta pay 'ttention, 'kay? It'll help ya understand me more."

@frombehindpaleeyes

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

sunflower, chapter seventeen

summary: why ever would something special happen on this lovely morning? 

warnings: talk of the future, spontaneous wedding, allusion to sex, just a lot of tooth-rotting fluff 

word count: 705

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The winter months had come and gone, and now spring was starting to peak through. Snowdrops were poking out, hanging low to the earth with their white petals. 

You woke as a pair of arms tightened their grip around you. Inhaling sharply through your nose, you blinked your eyes open to see Spencer uncourteously bring you closer as he too woke up from his slumber. 

Flashing you a sleepy smile, he hummed, “good morning,” and kissed your shoulder.

Still not fully awake, you closed your eyes and mumbled, “I had a dream, that we lived in some cabin… and you were out in the garden, watering the flowers… it was so beautiful, you were just surrounded by them… and you gave me one, tucked it behind my ear,” you motioned lazily to the side of your head, “and then you told me that you would go get him, and I was so confused until you came out with a baby in your arms…” that part was still so clear in your memory, “it looked so tiny in your arms…”

Slowly moving his hand up and down your spine, he breathed out, “I wish I could have seen it.”

“Yeah,” you opened your eyes again to gaze up at him, “you were so happy… you and your flowers.”

Smiling widely, “sounds like a wonderful life.”

“We could just run off together to somewhere in the middle of nowhere and make it a reality,” you half-joked, “be surrounded by nature, have a baby.”

“As long as you’re there, I’m happy,” he kissed your brow, “you are my home, my safe place. I don’t care where we are or what we do, just as long as you’re with me. That’s all I want for the rest of my life.”

“I love you,” you looked deeply into his eyes and then whispered something completely seriously that you’d previously only talked about casually and in the hypothetical, “marry me.”

Blinking, he breathed out, “what?”

“Marry me.”

“I thought you didn’t want a wedding.”

“I don’t, but that’s not what I’m asking you. I’m not asking you for a big party, I’m asking you if you want to make me a promise, that’s really all it is, a vow of love. Because I love you so much, I wanna be your wife.”

Beaming, his eyes glistened as you continued, “so, Spencer, will you marry me? Right here, right now, just you and me. We don’t need anything else to make it real.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, leaning forward to give you a big teary kiss. You tugged the covers over both of your heads, effectively shutting the rest of the world out. Pulling back, he cradled your head in his hands and sniffled, “you are the light of my life. You are the sun, you are my sun, my little sunflower. You are the good in my life. It would be an honour to be your husband.”

Trying your best not to let your tears ruin your ability to speak, you took your turn.

“You, Spencer Reid, you changed my life. Even when you’re not doing anything, you make everything better. And then when you actually try? You move mountains. You’re extraordinary. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to move in right next to you because, without that, I don’t think we would have ever crossed paths. It used to scare me how much I love you, but not anymore. You’re my best friend, you’re the person I want to grow old with. So, I promise you that I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“What now?” he breathed out.

“Now you kiss the bride.”

Almost melting into one another, your kiss effortlessly turned into more.

Your so-called wedding went on for hours, if not the rest of the day. The bubble you had created didn’t burst when you got out of bed. Proclaiming your love and devotion for each other in every way imaginable. Making love countless times, spending what felt like hours just getting lost in each other’s eyes. 

It wasn’t some big white wedding, but simply a proclamation of love, a promise of safety and an agreement to never leave each other’s side.

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[heartylunalys]

Hi! Can you write and imagine where reader and timmy meet again for the first time since he cheated on her ,and he wants her back ? 💖

Hi anon ! Thank you for your sad request, I hope you’ll like it 🤎

my masterlist

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genre: angst

words: 1k

warning: cheating, timothée is the asshole, smoking

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“Do I really have to come?” You annoyedly asked throughout the phone, not wanting to come to the little party she was organizing at her home to catch up with all your friends.

“Y/n you have to come, it’s been so long since we last saw you, it will be fun I promise.” She gushed and you sighed. It was true, you hadn't seen your friends since a long time, since your breakup with Timothée. He was their friend too and since you didn’t want to see him you simply decided to not see them, not ready to face the boy. “It’s because of Tim, right?” You heard your friend say with a serious tone and you sighed. You always acted like the breakup didn’t affect you in front of your friends but you knew that deep down they knew how crushed you were.

“I don’t care about Timothée,” you announced, trying to be as convincing as possible, “Look, I’ll be here but I don’t guarantee you that I’ll stay long.” You immediately explained, trying to cover you up in case seeing the boy was too much for you.

“Thank you Y/n, see you tomorrow.” She almost screamed in your ear before you hung up, feeling anxious. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, having to finally move on.

When the day finally came, you dressed well, too well, and felt silly, knowing that you were doing that for Timothée. You wanted to make him regret it. Make him regret the way he made you feel when you learned the news. The way you thought for weeks that YOU were the problem, that you weren’t attractive enough for him. He made you feel so insecure, so ugly. You left the house scared, angry, and apprehensive of what was yet to come.

Like you thought, you weren’t ready to face the boy. When your eyes met his green orbits you could feel all the destroying feelings that you felt a month before. However, you quickly fighted against it, and went to greet all your friends. You could feel his eyes on you, his look almost begging you to look at him, knowing damn well the power he still had on you. You sat with your friends, talking and drinking, trying to ignore the curly haired boy still looking desperately at you.

Eventually, it all felt too much, you felt like you would break down right now in front of everyone. Seeing the boy you once loved, you still loved deep down. You excused yourself to your friends and went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette, to cool down. When you pushed the glass door of your friend’s balcony before filling your lungs with a deep breath of fresh night air. You watched the city lights, almost nostalgically. While you were getting ready to take a cigarette out of your pack, you saw a hand holding out one for you. You looked up, meeting Timothée’s soft glaze. You took the cigarette with an almost inaudible “thanks”, Timothée simply smiled before lighting his.

The first minutes were awkwardly silent. The two of you just inhaled and exhaled the smoke without talking or even looking at each other. You could still feel his eyes on you and you wondered if the goosebumps were from the fresh air or him.

“I’m sorry.” You heard him say as he was now leaning against the balcony, the city lights reflected on him, the slight breeze in his hair. You were shocked by his nonchalance, like he was apologizing for something you should have already accepted.

“You’re sorry?” you asked a little bit irritated. “Is it really the only thing you can tell me right now?”

Timothée slightly sighed. “Y/n, I apologized so much. What I did was noy okay, it was awful and I know it. It… I hurted you and I’m deeply sorry. I know it’s not something you can forgive and forget but please, please give me another chance.”

You were smoking your cigarette like it was the only thing that would stop you from crying in front of his watchful eyes.

“You destroyed me Timothée. Do you know how many hours, days and nights, I spent hating on myself, wondering why I haven’t been enough, what was wrong with me? Do you know the humiliation I felt Timothée ? Knowing that everyone saw you cheating on me. I always did so much for you, accepted so much: your fame, your frustration from work, your work schedule, the fact that you had to leave me for month to shoot movies, seeing you being with all these pretty actresses and models, being compared to your exes, insulted on social media. I bore all of that for you, because I love you and you weren’t even able to do the bare minimum, you weren’t even able to respect me.” Tears were coating your eyes and your efforts to not let them fall were useless as you felt your cheeks wetenning. Timothée quickly wiped your tears with his free hand before cupping your face.

“I love you so much Y/n, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all this time, I need you. Without you everything is so difficult, it’s awful. I’m begging you, my love, please.” Timothée was looking at you and you could see the pain in his eyes but you could also feel the pain of his betrayal in your heart.

“I’m sorry Timothée, I can’t, I’m still here for you but I can’t trust you anymore.” You took his hand in your, feeling the touch of his skin against yours before crushing your cigarette and throwing it.

Your heart broke when you left him on the balcony, a fake smile on your face to say goodbye to your friends before going back to your home, thinking about timothée, thinking about the good memories and dreaming about your life, your love with him, the love you will never have anymore.

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a/n: like, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

I hope you liked this story!

I created this blog to allow black girls to feel more comfortable with reading x reader, as a black person I saw how much we weren’t really represented in the fanfic community

* ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° * ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

This is my work, please don’t repost it, translate it or take it without my permission.

published the 10/08/2022

taglist: @/timotheel0ver @track0526

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hello, I am a big fan of your writing 😄 Could you do a fic where a college aged Roger Taylor and the reader who have been dating for a while and they are waiting on a home pregnancy test? While they wait the reminisce about what they have gone through together and the good times. When the results are ready it's negative and they are relieved. Thank you!

Hi there nonnie! You got it! I will have two endings: one where the test is positive, and one where it is negative.

Per Anon's request, Reader here is a person whose body is able to have children, but because gender is not specified in the request, the reader will be gender neutral and can be read to identify however you would like!

Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! If you like it- reblog or leave a comment!

Warnings: Mentions of sex and some steamy bits but no specifics or details, mentions of drinking and drunkness, discussions of pregnancy, and mentions of abortion. But plenty of fluff!

Word Count: 1K

Link to my Comfort Character Letter and Playlist Etsy Shop

Link to My Ko-Fi for Comfort Character Letters

You reached for the pink kitchen timer in the shape of an egg and twisted it to fifteen minutes. That’s all it would take. That would be the moment of truth. Just fifteen little minutes and you would know for sure.

The timer was placed on the shelf of the sink. Right next to it was a pending pregnancy test. You placed both hands on the counter, looked into the mirror at your own face, and took in a deep breath. You held it, then released.

Watching the little white stick for fifteen minutes would only make you feel worse about the results you did not want yet.

Walking out, you saw Roger on the couch. You told him your period was late. Two days wasn’t much, but it was something. He turned over and looked at you.

“Hey, love,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you responded.

He opened his arms, and you followed him, plopping onto the couch. You nestled your head onto his chest where you felt it’s steady heartbeat. He wrapped both arms around you, one rubbing on your back. Another found a free hand of yours and held it.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Mmmph, you’re not the one getting tested.”

“Fair enough.”

He noticed your breaths were quick inhales and sharp exhales through your nose. It was troubling for him to hear such. He could even hear your heart pick up.

“Hey, Y/N...do you remember how we met?” he asked.

You looked up.

“What was it like on your end?” he asked.

“We’ve told this story before…”

“Nah, I’d like to hear It from you…” Roger responded.

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

You met at a bar. It was dark and there was that odd smell that came with beer- like you could smell bread baking from the wheat that was concocted inside the drink. It was that mixture of bakeries and bars- something delicious was being created to be consumed and enjoyed.

But you could not enjoy that beer in peace. A man who looked far older than you and quite odious slid up to you. He was smiling and trying to get your attention.

“Excise me…I’m just not in the mood tonight. Would you leave me alone, please?” you asked politely.

“What?? Don’t you like a free drink?” he asked, peeved.

You felt your blood run cold when you heard a voice:

 “Hey! I’ll get you anything you want, and you leave ‘em alone!”

You turned around to see…maybe not the most handsome man you met, but the most beautiful. You almost dropped your jaw. He had large blue eyes with thick lashes, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful, silky blonde hair you had ever seen. And he was walking up to you. You began to talk for hours and then traded numbers with smiling faces.

Your first kiss was in the rain. Roger had turned oddly romantic. He wanted to go to a museum of great interest to you. There was a special exhibit for only a limited time- a certain painter you adored. He bought you tickets- nice tickets! And this was before the band got off it’s feet too!

You grabbed his hand, ooing and aaaahing at the art. He smiled and admired it. If he thought anything rude about it, he kept it to himself. Even if he might have appeared low brow, he knew beauty when he saw it.

Once you walked out, it began to rain. Howling with laughter from the surprise of cold water splattering on your heads, you took off your jackets and huddled under them, running to the nearest shade you could find. One was a large tree planted in the sidewalk, proving a relief of raindrops. They weren’t a torrent, but manageable small drips every now and then. You both looked at each other, eyes bright from running and hair damp.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

You nodded yes.

You tasted the hamburger he ate for lunch, his tongue collided with yours, but his lips felt soft. On your book, it was a perfect first kiss.

It didn’t stop at kissing of course. The first time you did the deed, it was three days later. You had been studying over at his place. Luckily, he ordered in food, complete with dessert. As you put aside your flashcards, you gave a deep sigh.

“How do you feel, Y/N?”

“Good! I feel good about it!”

“Well then, guess we have time for this then!”

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you onto his lap. You began to make out. Furiously. And you didn’t want it to stop this time.

 As you sat there, you gave him a naughty smile. Then you quickly pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it in the floor. From the quick blinking and half grin, he gave you, he was not going to stop you.

“Rog…Rog I want you…” you said, placing his lovely face in your hands as you began to kiss him again and again.

“I want you…” you trailed down to his neck. You felt his body relax beneath yours “so bad…”

“Have me then…” he said. He unbuttoned his own shirt. Soon you felt the warmth of each other’s bare skin against the others. And it didn’t stop at your shirts.

You were there for every concert you could make it to. You cheered loudly as you could. Despite the numerous groupies with their claws pointed at Roger, he shooed them away. They would give you a glare before moving onto the next band member in sight.  None of you minded that much. There were times you goofed off with drinking games and then would dance all night to your favorite songs before wandering to the house.

“Damn…” Roger would say…he reached into the closet and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He got out two shot glasses.

“Rog! It’s five in the morning? And you’re drinking vodka???” you gasped.

“Why else do it? We had an amazing concert and we're celebrating! We’re alive and it’s here, we might as well enjoy it!”

And then sleep until the afternoon when you woke up tangled in each other’s arms but smiling.

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As you were warm from thinking of those things there was a “Ding! Ding! Ding!” from the bathroom. The timer went up.

The moment of truth.

“Here it is…” you said nervously.

Roger took your hand and walked you to the bathroom. Shaking, you reached over and looked at the stick.

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Ending One: Positive-

Two lines. Two clear little pink lines. Roger was next to you; he clutched your hand. The inhale you were taking stopped in your throat. The stick was even moving with you hand. You kept blinking, then you let out a sharp exhale.

“Y/N….my Y/N, what do you think?” he asked.

This was huge. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through in your head.

“Y/N, if you need an abortion, I’ll help you. I’ll play the drums extra hard, I’ll pitch in what I have, I’ll help you to make it happen- we’ll find a clinic that’s safe and then you won’t have to..."

You let out a laugh, tears were already in your eyes, and you shook your head.

“No Roger! No!”

He tilted his head and squinted his blue eyes.

“No?”

“I mean, thank you! It’s kind of you to offer…but no!!!”

You hugged him with both arms, the test still in your hand, dangling off, the two lines staring at Roger. You gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Here’s what…I…I want to keep the baby…”

“Keep it? Then…then this is big, Y/N…but…you’re happy?”

“I am happy! I am happy that I have a part of you with me, always- that there’s going to be a person half you and half me out there in the world! I…I’ve wanted to be pregnant for a while now! And I want to have your baby!”

You relaxed in his arms and melted onto his shoulder.

You let go and he held your hands, pulling you close still.

“Y/N…we will do what we can…I…I never thought a year ago I would say this but…I will be a dad to this baby. I won’t leave you and I won’t leave the kid inside you either! You don’t have to be afraid now- you mean so much to me and if that means taking this on, I won’t mind…"

Outside you heard birds chirping as if celebrating. Roger licked his lips and then frowned, eyes looking down.

"But...I'll try...even if I’m not ready to be a dad…” he confessed.

“Will we ever be ready to be parents?” you asked.

There was a pause. The clock ticked as if in silent reply and outside a car passed by.

“Then…then we’ll raise the baby together.”

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

Ending Two: Negative.

There was only one line. There were two sighs. Roger was relieved secretly- no responsibilities. No human life to concern himself about. Y/N blinked and rechecked again and again, and then set it down.

“Well…well then!” you announced.

“Why, Y/N…we might need to celebrate!” Roger suggested.

“I…I think so!”

He went to the kitchen, even though it was still the afternoon, and the sun was shining through the windows.

 “Let’s have a drink- it’s something you would have to miss out on! We can throw in some coffee too! And all the stuff you wouldn’t be able to enjoy if you were pregnant!”

Sure enough he brought out the drinks and you were enjoying it. You both held small champagne glasses.

“Part of me…wants to be pregnant. Wants to be a mama. But I…I’m not so sure…”

“It’s a lot of work, Y/N. And…with the band…we’re enjoying what we have…”

“You know…you’re right! I like my life! I like my college and my classes and my friends!"

"No one wants to miss out on those!" Roger commented.

You played with the rim of your cup and looked down, then back up through your lashes at Roger

" Plus, there’s this handsome drummer I’m dating…” you added.

He leaned against the kitchen counter cockily.

“What’s he like?” Roger asked.

“Hilarious. Smart. Talented. Creative. Bold. Fearless. Passionate. Fiery. And best of all…he’s mine…” you praised.

“Same to you, darling.” He replied with a smile that could melt winter.

Taglist: @0x0spunky-monkey0x0 @seraphicmercury @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @queenlover05

[golbrocklovely]

never needed // colby brock

A/N: so fun fact about this fic is that i came up with it last year back in november. it was around the time me and my ex best friend stopped being friends. i was really in such a rough headspace, and i think the concept shows it. i just finished writing it today and wow... i still feel this way to some extent, but not fully (thank god). also i literally cried while writing it today so there’s that. hope yall enjoy this one. i'm trying to post a bunch of fics since this coming week is my bday (the 14th). no guarantees, but i'm trying my best to put out at least six things. let me know what you think of this one. see yall later :)

prompt: colby has been ghosting you for a while, just when things were starting to get good between you two. after a week of ignoring you, he’s finally ready to talk. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, heartache, crying, honestly this one is really sad so sorry about that, happy ending tho

word count: 2331

~~~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned to myself, staring at my phone.

Colby was still ignoring me, something I had grown accustomed to this week. He had ghosted my calls and my texts. He turned his read notifications off too, so I had no clue whether or not he had even seen my messages at all.

Everything had been going great between us. We had met a couple years back and hit it off as friends right away. I always thought he was attractive, and our friendship was always really flirty; so much so that fans thought we were together. And then finally, something clicked a couple months back. I wasn't sure if it was the accidental drunken kiss we shared, or just a built up of feelings, but we finally decided that maybe we should test out an actual relationship.

We promised each other we would take it slow, both of us still heartbroken from our previous relationships and our general trust issues. But these past two months, we went into overdrive, actually taking the time to feel each other out as boyfriend and girlfriend.

And for the first time, I felt happy. Genuinely happy.

A week ago, we had even gone on a cute little date, something we had started doing regularly. We were in the middle of our conversation; I remember I laughed hard at something he said. It was loud enough that some of the patrons in the restaurant stared at us. And when he tried to shush me jokingly, a silence had fallen over us.

His face dropped suddenly, he became super serious and quiet, and then he asked if we could go home.

He told me the next day that he thought he got food poisoning and it just hit him in the restaurant. I didn't think anything of it and was fine with going home early.

But now, I wonder if he was lying.

I looked back down at my phone, reading over my messages from the past week to him.

Was I taking this too far? He could have just been busy. I don't wanna come across as clingy.

"Ugh, fuck that." I muttered out loud to myself, rolling out of my bed to get a drink.

I didn't care if I came across as clingy. I had a right to know why he was ignoring me. If it was work related, he would have told me. He had done that in the past before.

This was different, I just knew it.

Tomorrow, I planned to go over and see him. I would have done it tonight, but I knew he wasn't home. He was out with some friends at Saddle Ranch. Like a fan, I had to watch his stories on Insta, since that was the only way I knew where he was.

"Don't expect too much from him." Sam said.

I shook my head at that memory. When we got together, everyone was happy for us. But I could feel a certain tension in the room, a certain caveat that wasn't being mentioned. Later that night, Sam and I were by ourselves, and he asked me if Colby and I had really made our relationship official. I told him we hadn't gone all the way, but that we were taking it one step at a time.

"I'm happy for you guys, really. I just wonder..." His voice trailed off.

I cocked my head. "Wonder what?"

"Look, I love you both, but I don't know if Colby is really ready for a relationship. There's a lot of things he still needs to work through." He stated.

"We're not that serious." I laughed.

"Yeah, yet. If you plan to be, I just don't want you to get your heart broken because he wasn't ready." Sam admitted.

I patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. "Relax, Samuel. Everything will be fine."

"Alright. Just... don't expect too much from him, okay?" He mentioned, his eyes narrowing on mine.

That had been two months ago and... I think I should have heeded his warning.

A loud knock at my front door brought me out of my thoughts, scaring me. I grabbed a knife from my kitchen, striding over to the door. I glance through the peephole to see who was there.

Colby's face stared back.

"Y/N, it's me. Can you open the door?" He called.

I scowled at him through the peephole. "Sorry she's not home right now. Maybe you should try responding to her texts.”

“Look I'm sorry, but that's why I came over. I wanted to talk in person.” He replied.

“Damn, that’s a shame. Too bad she’s not home!” I exclaimed angrily.

“C’mon now, don’t be childish.” He remarked.

I swung the door open, holding back from yelling into my hallway. “Childish?!”

He smirked at me. “I knew that would get you to open the door.”

“You’re not funny.” I deadpanned, glaring at him.

“Can you please let me in? I seriously want to talk.” Colby responded, his eyes landing on mine.

“No, Colby. It’s one o’clock in the morning, I don’t feel like talking, and you’re drunk.” I jeered, resting my hands on my hips.

He scrunched up his face dramatically. “No, I’m not. I only had like two drinks.”

“Oh my mistake. I figured a person that randomly comes over to talk at the ass-crack of night is usually drunk,” I quipped. “Don’t you have better things to do, like be at Saddle Ranch?”

He stepped back, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you know I was at Saddle Ranch?”

I could feel my cheeks heat up. “Because… I watched your stories.”

“Nice to know you pay attention to me,” he uttered under his breath. “Please let me in.”

“No. Fuck off, Colby.” I hissed.

He rolled his eyes at my comment. “If you don’t let me in, I’m just gonna make noise out here in the hallway until you do.”

“Bet.” I huffed.

“What was your favorite movie again… ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” He questioned, stepping back further into the hallway.

I blinked. “Yeah, so what?”

He looked up at me, giving me a devilish smile. “…You’re just too good to be true.”

My face dropped at his voice. “Colby.”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” He sang, pointing at me.

“Are you really-” I started.

He cut me off, running his hands down his body. “You’d be like heaven to touch.”

I hushed. “Seriously stop-”

“I wanna hold you so much.” He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself.

I grunted, smacking my hand towards him. “Colby, it’s one in the morn-”

“At long last, love has arrived.” He opened his arms wide.

“Shut the fuck up!” I whisper-shouted.

“And I thank God I'm alive.” Colby praised up towards the ceiling.

I retorted. “You’re fucking embarrass-”

He spun in a circle slowly. “You're just too good to be true.”

“I knew giving you the code to my apartment was a bad idea.” I grumbled.

“Can't take my eyes off of you.” He winked, pointing at me again.

Colby took a big inhale, ready to start singing the music, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my apartment.

I slammed my door shut, locking it quickly. “Next time you do something like that, I’m gonna kill you.”

“That’s not very- why do you have a knife?” He motioned toward the knife sitting on my side table.

“What-? Oh, I thought you were an intruder.” I explained.

He lightly smiled, his dimples appearing. “You think an intruder would knock?”

I snapped, annoyed. “Aren’t you here to apologize?”

“Right, right,” he cleared his throat, his demeanor changing. “Y/N, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Sure.” I narrowed my eyes, walking towards my kitchen.

He followed me. “I know what I did was fucked up. I should have responded to you.”

“You completely ignored me for over a week.” I informed him, resting my back against the counter.

He nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I crossed my arms uncomfortably. “…were you busy?”

“No, not really.” He divulged, dropping his head.

“So, you purposefully ignored my calls and text…” I could feel my hands shake against my arms.

“You make it sound bad-” He mumbled.

“It is that bad.” I emphasized, stopping him. “Colby, you wanna talk about being childish? That shit was childish.”

He agreed. “I know it was.”

“Obviously not since you keep joking about it.” I argued.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he protested, running his hands through his hair. “Do you wanna know the honest to God truth?”

“Of course I do.” I answered, furrowing my eyebrows.

He exhaled, glancing at me. “When we first got together, even though we were taking it slow, I was terrified to date you.”

“Terrified?” I puzzled.

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Scared shitless.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“I thought it was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But then… at dinner,” his voice lowered, his shoulders dropping. “I realized it was more than that.”

I shook my head, confused. “What are you ta-”

“I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” He confessed.

His words made me step back, my breath hitching in my throat.

I choked. “What?”

“When you laughed really hard, and did that cute snort thing you do, I remember we looked at each other… and all I saw was you,” his eyes bore into mine, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. “No one else in that restaurant existed. And in that moment, I wanted to tell you I love you.”

I stammered out words, unable to think clearly. “S-so… you-”

“When I felt it, I knew I had to go home. Because I was just so shocked at the feeling. I haven’t felt that way for anyone in a long time.” He sighed exhaustingly, “and… I apologize that I ignored you. Every time I saw your messages, I knew I should have responded. But my body, my mind, wouldn’t let me.”

I frowned. “Because you love me?”

“Because… I’m scared to love you.” He admitted.

A heavy silence fell over the apartment. I shuddered out an exhale, not even noticing I had been holding my breath in for so long. Colby closed his eyes, twisting up his face, and turned his back to me.

“Why are you scared to love me?” I gulped, scared of his answer.

His shoulders tensed as he gripped the counter. “The last time you felt heartbroken… did it leave you feeling empty? Because that’s how I felt… for so long. It’s not even the empty feeling that bothered me. It was the fact that I knew something used to be there… and now it’s gone. I miss who I was before.”

I opened my mouth, but no words escaped.

“I have this deep, guttural feeling that you’re gonna realize I’m not worth loving, and that there is someone else out there that is, and you’re gonna leave me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, “everyone… always leaves me.”

I gasped quietly. “Colby-”

He turned back to me, his face becoming red. “I just feel like no one ever needs me, you know? Like some people only keep me around because they don’t have the heart to just tell me they don’t care anymore. Even Sam has someone else.

I consoled. “That’s not-”

“And I know it’s selfish to want everyone around me to only want me. I don’t really feel that way. I just… don’t feel like anyone really needs me as much as I need them,” his chest quaked as his breathing began to speed up. “And when you realize it too… I don’t think I can live through that fall out again. I don’t think I’m gonna survive it.”

“Wait, Col-” I murmured.

“At that dinner, I had this gut-wrenching anxiety come over me; a voice in my head that said ‘she’s gonna leave you too’ and… I’m just so sorry.” He panted, his eyes welling up.

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pressing his body into mine as hard as I could. He buried his face into my neck, his body almost going limp against mine.

I couldn’t help my own tears spill as they landed on his shirt. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way before?”

“I was ashamed. I should be stronger than this.” He fumed through his tears.

I rubbed his face lovingly. “Who said that? You are strong. Expressing your emotions is strong.”

He nodded, croaking. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course. How about tonight you stay over, and then in the morning, we’ll talk about this more? Okay?” I suggested, resting my hands on his forearms.

“Yeah.” He whimpered.

I smiled brokenly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I lightly grasped Colby’s hand, pulling him slowly into my bedroom. He stumbled along, his head remaining down.

I sat him down on the bed and slid off his jacket, placing it on my dresser. I cupped his face, tracing his jaw with my fingers. His eyes finally landed on mine as I tilted his head up.

I leaned down and kissed his lips, resting my forehead against his.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Colby.” I stated, gazing into his eyes.

He begged in a hushed tone. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.” I reassured, kissing his forehead.

I walked over to the other side of my bed and laid down. Colby kicked off his shoes, taking his belt off and pulling his jeans down. After getting undressed, he slid into bed with me, laying his head down softly on my chest. Wrapping his arms around me, he buried his head into my neck again, sighing against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair, a light hum falling from his lips. I ran my other hand up and down his spine, feeling him shiver under my touch.

“We’ll be okay, Colby.” I whispered.

[forever-rogue]

A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.

But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin

Have a great day love!🤍

A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

PART 2

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”

“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”

“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”

“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”

“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”

“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”

“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”

“Everyone’s going to be there?”

“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”

“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”

“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”

“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”

“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”

“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.

“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”

“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.

“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.

“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”

“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”

“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”

“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.

“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.

It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.

“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”

She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.

A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”

“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”

“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”

“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”

“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”

“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”

“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”

“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[hotwings0203]

I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

[inkykeiji]

the clock is ticking, running out of time

characters: shigaraki tomura

genre: smut and angst

notes: AAAAAAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMURA!!!!!! sorry i seem to write angst for all of my faves birthdays ehehe. this is technically set in the touya-nii universe!! | title cred: birthday by katy perry

warnings: 18+ minors dni, cheating, implied stepcest/pseudo-incest, toxic relationships, the slightest hint of degradation, noncon/dubcon video recording, extreme feelings of guilt

words: 4.4k

synopsis:

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Touya,” you say gently, letting your dress drop down as you straighten up. “Let’s—Let’s not think about him right now, okay? Today is your day, and I want to focus on you. Forget about Touya,”

A deep frown mars his face, his nose twitching again. It looks like he wants to say more, but then your hands are on him, roaming across his bony chest and sliding into the tufts of silvery-blue hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together. Sweet breath wafts over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

That’s the thought that’s been looping through your head for the past forty-five minutes, for the entire bus ride from Touya’s apartment to Tomura’s, for the walk from the bus stop to his condo complex, for the thirty-seven seconds it takes him to answer the door.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

But you want to.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him last, months since you spent the night with him, months since you’ve spoken to him at all.

4:06. The glowing numbers glare up at you from the screen of your phone, unable to stop obsessively checking your phone, mentally calculating the time you have left over and over again, even though you’ve already meticulously planned this outing down to the very second.

It’s rare for Touya to be out for an exact amount of allotted time, but when he mentioned that he had a three hour full body check up with his doctor that just so happened to be scheduled on Tomura’s birthday…Well, it was too convenient for you not to seize the opportunity.

The door swings open, breaking you out of your thoughts, and your name leaves his lips in a gasp, crimson eyes searching your face in disbelief. A beat of silence passes before he speaks again. “What’re you doing here?”

“Wanted to see you for your birthday,” you say simply with a shrug and he blinks several times, still staring at you incredulously. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, terrified that he doesn’t want you here, that he thinks the risk is too big—Touya will murder the both of you if he finds out—too dangerous, his body gone rigid in the doorway, breathing stopped.

But then a brilliant smile is splitting his face, and he’s pulling you into his arms, crushing you to his chest as his fingers curl in the material of your dress.

And you—you practically collapse against him, sighing out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He still smells exactly the same, just as you remember—like cheap cigarettes and watermelon bubblegum.

The scent evokes thick unfurling remorse, sinking heavily in your stomach, the mantra you’ve been repeating to yourself for the past few days immediately flowing through your mind, a desperate attempt to reassure yourself, to reason with yourself, to justify this decision.

Because you both deserve closure, don’t you? After everything that’s happened? After leaving him without a trace, without so much as a phone call or a quick text to at least let him know you’re okay?

Because Touya’s cheated on you how many times throughout the first six months of your relationship? One more teeny tiny instance of infidelity—the last one, you promise yourself—shouldn’t hurt, so long as he doesn’t know about it.

Right?

Really, this does nothing to dispel the culpability churning in your chest. No, Tomura’s bright boyish smile does that all by itself, sincere in the way it’s stretched across his face as he tugs you inside.

And...And suddenly, none of it really matters. Not in that moment, at least. Suddenly, all of those statements are rendered true; Tomura does deserve this. Suddenly, you realize just how much you’ve missed him.

“I have to be quick, I’m sorry,” your voice cracks under unexpected emotion, but Tomura doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, ecstatic over the fact that you’ve come to visit at all.

“That’s fine,” he’s saying as his hands roam your body, kneading and squeezing with surprising gentleness, eyes shining and wide as they follow his touch, as if he can’t believe you’re here, can’t believe you’re real.

It has your heart shattering in your chest, jagged shards puncturing your surrounding organs, burying themselves deep within you, never to be dug out. A lump lodges itself in your throat, voice frail and full of spit as you speak around it.

“I missed you so much,” the words rush from between your lips without your permission, and Tomura pulls back, smile fading as his gaze searches your face.

For a moment, you can tell that he wants to berate you for disappearing without any contact at all, can see it shining clear as crystal in his eyes as they narrow, as eyebrows knit and his nose scrunches, and you nuzzle your face into him. Guilt, a different kind than that which Touya evokes—this type lighter than the dense acidic guilt that sticks to your insides like thick tar any time sapphire sears through your mind, this type bitter and saturated with melancholy—roots in the pit of your stomach.

“I—I’m sorry I haven’t been able to text,” you mumble meekly, tears pricking your eyes. “Touya—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off with surprising softness, fingertips still trailing up and down your spine. “I figured. Uh, how is he? Like, how…How was he?”

The brand of those five letters, now fully healed, scald your flesh, blistering bright and hot as if you had just been branded again. With your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, you contemplate just outright telling him—he’s going to see it eventually either way, but you’re worried about ruining the mood a little too early.

No.

Better to rip it off like a band-aid, to get it out of the way now, instead of interrupting your birthday festivities later.

Your chest swells with a deep inhale, exhaling the words slowly.

“He was…” Livid. Furious beyond belief. Deeply hurt—distressed, distraught, dismayed. Visibly shaken up. In more pain than you’ve ever witnessed before. Terrified. “Upset. Naturally.”

Tomura waits for you to continue, speaking after a few moments of silence. “And?” he prompts, knowing Touya didn’t let you get away with a mere verbal warning, knowing you have more to say.

“A-And—” you bury your face against his neck, hot tears leaking from your eyes and staining his skin as they squeeze shut tightly, forcing the quivering words from your throat. “And he—He, um, he branded me,”

“What?” The word is just a huff of breath as large hands curl around your shoulders, yanking you from the sanctuary of his body so he can scrutinize your face, flashing crimson flying across your features. “He what?”

“His name,” you whisper, eyes still shut, face screwing up in distaste, the words bitter on your tongue.

“Where?”

“My ass,”

“Let me see,”

Eyes snapping open, your head begins to shake, motions cutting off when your stare meets his glare. Reluctantly you turn, flipping your dress up as you bend over a bit, pulling your panties down just enough to show him the slightly raised letters etched into your flesh forever.

Save for the soft, choked noise that sounds in the back of his throat, silence blankets the room, atmosphere suddenly stale and suffocating.

You glance back at him after a few beats, when your chest is beginning to burn from holding your breath in your lungs, and the sight that you are met with has your chest tearing itself in half, ribs caving in, giving way to the deep, dark ache swirling at the very core of your body.

Crimson eyes gleam in the setting sun, a thick layer of tears catching in the golden rays streaming through the window. It’s almost pretty in a way, brilliant ruby that shimmers and shines in the waning beams, practically glowing. But those beautiful, beautiful eyes are transfixed on your bare flesh, unblinking stare etching itself into your skin much like the letters Touya left behind.

His chin trembles just a little, front teeth sinking into his bottom lip in an attempt to halt it, head nodding in minuscule motions, barely noticeable, almost as if he’s confirming something to himself, affirming some unsaid thought sailing through his mind—almost as if he’s blaming himself.

“Fucking bastard,” he spits, though the words are wobbly, lacking heat and coated in sticky saliva. Using the sleeve of his black shirt, he wipes at his nose almost aggressively, quelling it’s twitching as he exhales harshly, nostrils flaring, before he sniffs twice and rolls his shoulders back, gaze finally meeting yours.

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Touya,” you say gently, letting your dress drop down as you straighten up. “Let’s—Let’s not think about him right now, okay? Today is your day, and I want to focus on you. Forget about Touya,”

A deep frown mars his face, his nose twitching again. It looks like he wants to say more, but then your hands are on him, roaming across his bony chest and sliding into the tufts of silvery-blue hair at the nape of his neck.

The glittering scarlet lace barely obscured by your thin dress singes itself into your flesh as his palms cascade over it, tracing every dip and curve of your body as they slide down to grope your ass.

You had bought the set for this occasion specifically—using cash you had stashed away, of course; Touya regularly checks your bank statements and credit card—with the intention of letting Tomura keep it, as a present.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together, sweet breath wafting over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

He surges forward, foreheads bumping together from the strength, and crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, nimble fingers curling in the hem of your dress and yanking, pulling the material from your body in one erratic motion.

He’s just as enthusiastic as he was all those months ago, large hands settling on your lace-clad hips as he guides you—back, back, back, stumbling over your own feet a little as he shoves forward, teeth clacking as his tongue tangles with yours, interspersed drool pooling at the corners of your lips.

A soft cry of surprise leaves your lips as he roughly spins the two of you so he’s the one reversing, collapsing in the overstuffed gaming chair abandoned near his desk and hauling you down with him, wheels rolling against the hardwood from the force.  

His lips are plush and chapped, kisses messy with strings of viscous saliva, and you’re reminded of how fun kissing Tomura is, playful giggles spilling from one mouth into another consistently breaking the flow as eager hands paw and pull, snapping the clasp on your bra and haphazardly discarding it, your fingers toying with the silver button of his charcoal jeans.

“Get on with it already,” he groans, impatient and entitled as ever, exactly how you remember, hips rutting up into you clumsily as hands travel up your torso to knead your breasts much too hard. And even though it shouldn’t, his predictability inspires a burst of intense warmth in your chest, burning bright like a tiny sun, heat seeping into your blood and flooding your veins as more involuntary giggles pry their way out of your mouth and into his.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he asks, and although his eyes are fierce and sharp as they scrutinize your face, there’s a playful little grin decorating his lips, slender fingers tweaking a peaked nipple and snickering at your resulting yelp.

“Just missed you, s’all,” you mumble against him, lips dragging along his jaw then trailing down his neck, tongue peeking out to give kitten licks at self-inflicted scars and tugging pathetic little half-whimpers from deep in his throat, rough and uneven as he tries to swallow them back down.

There isn’t enough time for thorough prep, your only form of foreplay consisting of his cock being rammed down your throat—just get it fucking wet, he had demanded—hips stuttering as he desperately tries to keep from bucking while your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in spit.

“Fu-Fucking stop, or I’m gonna cum,” Large fists tangle in your hair, trying to yank you off his cock with a pathetic little whine. Gaping pupils outlined by a fine ring of scarlet observe the way your shining lips pucker around his girth as your mouth slides up, grip on your strands already loosening as his chest heaves, completely absorbed by your actions, breath escaping slightly parted lips in sweet little puffs.

A little tongue flicks against the slit as you reach the tip, placing an obscene openmouthed kiss to the head before pulling away completely. Your mouth hovers an inch above it, allowing a large glob of sticky saliva to dribble from your mouth onto the head, then kissing it again, pressing slippery lips to heated silky skin.

“Jesus Christ,”

The curse is nearly a moan, and you look up from your place between his thighs, batting your eyelashes and offering him a tiny smile. His eyes glitter as he gazes down at you, chest rising unevenly under the force of ragged breaths, a thumb swiping across your cheek in a manner that’s almost awestruck, as if he can’t believe you’re here.

“Get on my cock,” he orders a moment later, when the aching between his legs draws him back to reality, hips jerking up in reflexive, instinctive micro-movements, gleaming cock bobbing with the action. “And take your fucking panties off,”

It’s a little awkward and a lot uncoordinated, trying to maneuver yourself onto his lap while he slouches in that ridiculous gaming chair, unable to quell the way his hips prematurely thrust the moment you’re hovering over him, legs folded and cramped on either side of his thighs.

Pathetic little whimpers leak from your lips as his slick cock stretches your ill-prepared hole, cunt stinging as it struggles to adjust to the sudden breach, your nails digging into the lean muscles of his shoulders as a hiss is spit between clenched teeth.

But the moan he emits, deep and satisfying as you sink down on him, how his eyelashes flutter shut and his head knocks back against the headrest as he bottoms out, long ivory neck and prominent Adams apple on display, and the way massive hands grip your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he forces you to begin bouncing almost immediately, make it all so worth it.

Because he’s still so pretty, lids lifting a moment later to reveal dazzling ruby gazing at you in an almost voracious manner through thick dark lashes, glued to your face as he memorizes every micro-expression that transforms your features, the way your eyes roll back and eyebrows twitch, the way your mouth forms around those cute little gasps of his name that his rough thrusts punch from your chest.

“Did’ya miss my cock?” his breath is already coming out in short little pants, hips grinding urgently against yours, lacking any kind of finesse or rhythm. “B-Bet’cha did,”

“Uh-huh,” your head nods jerkily, hips rocking just as desperately into his as if to confirm your statement. His cock is pretty, too—a darker pink than Touya’s, half an inch shorter but just as fat, thick veins snaking around the shaft like vines.

“Dick drunk already?” he teases, and you’re positive his voice was meant to be more rancorous, but the large grin it’s spoken through, as if he’s proud of himself, chest nearly swelling with it, dilutes it, disintegrating the bitter shell that was supposed to coat the words. His tongue clicks, fluffy tufts of hair bouncing a little as he shakes his head. “What would your precious niichan think?”

You don’t answer—can’t answer—because it’s already so much, uncoordinated thrusting almost teasing in a way, the head of his cock unintentionally grazing that spot buried deep inside of you, the fleeting sensation mixing with that of the taboo, of the naughtiness of the situation, mewls spilling from your lips.

And you wish, so desperately, that you could take your time, that you could enjoy such amateurish gyrating, crude movements giving way to sloppy squelching that makes your stomach swoop and cunt throb as your clit glides against his pubic bone, but the mention of niichan reminds you of your finite amount of time and you lean back, soft palms finding the edge of his desk, fingers curling tightly around it.

Tomura’s bare feet planted on the hardwood keep the chair from shifting as you begin to really ride him, starting with slow, hard rolls of your hips that have cute little grunts hitching in his chest, bright eyes darkening as they watch, lids drooping a little, your movements increasingly gaining speed with each rock forward of your hips, leaning back against the desk and using it for leverage.

Blunt nails bite into your skin, and you want to remind him not to leave marks, but the words won’t keep their shape as they gurgle in your throat, evaporating into moans that break with each rough buck of his hips.

He finds a rhythm with you quickly, though, your lust-hazed mind dully noting that he’s better than before, the thought conjuring sudden, fierce spears of jealousy that slice through your chest, jaw clenching.

“Fuck, you—you’re still the best I’ve ever had,” he practically whines out, like he’s reading the thoughts on your face, but his voice is genuine, strained and hoarse with the confession. “Will probably always be the best I’ve ever had,” his sentence fades into a growl, almost as if he’s angry about it, hands squeezing your hips.

Nevertheless, you’re unable to stop the little smile those words paint across your lips, giggling breathlessly as bubbly warmth tingles in your chest, a sense of shameful pride rushing through your veins.

“Yeah?” he seethes in a huff, eyes narrowing. “Bet you’re proud of yourself for that, little slut,”

You are, you’re nodding, tongue rendered useless as his hips piston into you, cockhead repeatedly slamming against your cervix, reaching deeper and deeper and deeper the further you lean back, until the sharp edge of the desk is cutting into your back.

“I know you are,” he sneers, callous tone emphasized by his brute force as he fucks you. “V-Vain little bitch, happy she’s ruined me—ruined sex for me, forever,”

It’s getting harder for him to speak now, words punctuated by half-baked whimpers and swallowed, stifled moans, the sentiment under his speech accentuating pleasure for the both of you, dirty humiliation only making everything that much more intense, heady and addicting as it intoxicates your bodies, your minds, your souls.

“S-So the least you could do,” he begins in a keen, pace faltering as he squirms under you, yanking his phone from his back pocket. “Is give me something to—ah, Christ—remember you by,”

You should tell him no. You should cease all bouncing on his cock the moment he presses that little red button on his screen, the moment the flash next to the camera turns on, signaling it’s recording. You should.

But you don’t. You don’t, because he’s right. Because that guilt returns, seeping up through the floor of your stomach and spreading to your other organs, chest tightening as it reaches your heart. Because you took something from him, something he’ll never be able to get back, purely for your own selfish gain, just to get back at the man you love, and that isn’t fair. That will never be fair.

Instead, you look straight into the lens, hips beginning to ride him almost viciously, pushing out your chest further, bouncing tits on display as they heave with your lewd moans of his name, begging him to fuck you, begging him for his thick cum, and oh please, Tomura, please, give it to me, want your cum so bad, need your cum so bad, please!

He chokes on his own groan, the hand holding his phone beginning to shake slightly as the other finds its place on your hip again, his own thrusts pumping wildly as he spits expletives through gritted teeth, your pathetic little mewls egging him on.  

“G-Gonna cum?” he whines out, almost as if he’s begging you to say yes, the needy canting of his hips indicating that he’s about to, too, crimson searing into you as you nod messily. “Fucking do it, then, cream all over my cock like the good little whore you are,”

And you’re powerless to stop the loud cry that rips from your throat as your cunt clenches around him, only half of his name escaping in a yelp before your own shuddery gasp cuts you off, choking a little on the intense inhale, air sharp as razors as it rushes down your throat.

He follows less than a second later with a ferocious growl of your name, potent cum filling your aching little cunt, phone clattering to the floor as both hands grip your hips and force you to continue milking him until both of your bodies are shivering from the overstimulation.

You collapse against him, sweaty body melting into his, muscles quivering in exhaustion. Long arms encircle you, cradling you to his chest in a way that’s almost tender, phone laying forgotten a few feet away.

It’s just as nice as it was the first time, being swathed in his embrace, a gentle sigh slipping from between your lips. Nimble fingers trail up and down your spine, pressing into the notches, tracing the smooth, soft plains of your skin.

“Wish you could stay,” he mumbles into your hair, so quiet you nearly miss it—would have missed it if not for the vibrations in his chest.

Me too.

You want to tell him, want to express the same sentiment, to make it known that you desire the same thing, but the words tangle in your throat, that sticky brand of guilt that is specifically Touya refraining them from leaving your lips, yanking them back down into your chest with painful hitching breaths every time you try to speak.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Tomura coos, pulling back a little to cup your face and tilt it up, big thumbs swiping across your cheeks as they catch glistening teardrops.

He doesn’t say anything—there is nothing to say—instead dipping his head to press his lips chastely to yours in the softest kiss he’s ever given you, mumbling his thanks for the birthday present a moment later.

There’s so much more you want to say, so much more you want to ask, but there’s no more time, opting to kiss him again in response, praying that it conveys all the things you can’t, all the things guilt won’t let you.

And then you’re scrambling off of his lap, collecting your dress off the floor and hastily pulling it over your head, turning back to find Tomura standing, holding out his hand, soaked lace in his grasp.

“Keep them,” you whisper, curling his fingers into a fist around the dainty material. “Happy birthday, Tomura,”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

You have forty-five minutes before Touya arrives home—that’s cutting it close, you were supposed to have a full hour, but Tomura’s arms were so warm, his gently rising chest so inviting, his entire aura so comforting, that you had allowed yourself to indulge, just for a moment, to let your eyes slip shut and exhale a soft sigh of contentment, snuggling into his embrace and inhaling his distinct scent deeply, holding it in your lungs for a moment, wishing it would stay, wishing it would stick to the gummy walls, take root and find a home there, wishing you could keep a piece of him with you, always.

The water scalds your skin as you step into Touya’s glass shower, hands instantly reaching for Touya’s bodywash and squirting a generous amount in your palm.

You lather your entire body with it, until every inch of your skin is covered in foamy white suds, until your flesh has been scrubbed raw, the sharp scent—something woodsy and musky, like a crackling campfire of burning hickory wood, smoky and sweet—enveloping you entirely, stinging your nose.

It sticks in your throat and invades your lungs, as if cleansing you from the inside out, and you choke on it, are suffocated by it, little gasps and coughs falling from your lips while nails claw at your neck.

That dull ache returns as you rinse your skin, throbbing incessantly at the very core of your body as you watch the last remnants of Tomura swirl around the drain, infused in the soapy water.

It shouldn’t hurt this much, you’re thinking to yourself as your fingers massage shampoo into your scalp. It shouldn’t, but it does, a painful lump lodging itself in your throat, expanding a little more every time you try to reason with yourself until it’s gagging you.

Something stings your eyes—soap from the shampoo as you rinse it from your locks, or maybe the potently fragrant scent from Touya’s bodywash, you try to convince yourself, that lump sprouting tiny spikes and viciously slicing into the gummy walls, that lump forcing saliva still containing traces of Tomura to collect in your throat, that lump reminding you that you’re a fucking liar.

It’s fine. It’s fine. Touya doesn’t need to know everything, does he? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? And it was only a one time thing, wasn’t it? It’s alright, isn’t it?

These are the questions that cycle through your mind obsessively, running laps in your skull as you absentmindedly towel off your dripping body in your niichan’s bedroom, the gentle buzz of your phone snapping you out of your reverie.

For a moment, you’re terrified it’s Touya, texting you to tell you that he knows, you little slut, scrambling to snatch it off of the nightstand as trembling fingers hastily unlock it.

It isn’t Touya.

It’s Tomura.

best birthday present of my life, hands down. thank you. i love you.

The resounding slam! of the front door has your entire body flinching violently, the heels of Touya’s heavy boots thumping against the tile as he kicks them off mingling with his smooth voice as he calls your name.

It’s with watery eyes and painful little sniffles catching in your chest that your quivering thumb jabs at that tiny little trashcan in the corner of your screen, watching through blurry vision as the entire conversation disappears into the ether, gone forever—though those three glowing words that concluded the text are etched into the very tissue of your brain, where they will remain, forever.

[ingenio-academy-if]

OH NO i can't deal with that angst 😭😭 What if the ROs find out that MC was being blackmailed by someone / someone threatened to hurt the RO if MC didn't do that, so MC saying they never loved them was a lie? (lieception hehe)

Connected to this ask.

I dont know if some of these are as fluffy as you want them to be, anon...

Mc lied to RO(s) about never loving them because they were trying to protect them from some danger. The Danger was dealt with and so MC tells the RO’s the truth and wants to get back together.

-

Zane: His eyes look empty, he's sitting only a few feet away from you, but it feels like miles. Zane's eyes close and he inhales deeply, your take a step closer but he lifts his hand up to stop you. 

"Damn... that sucks... but- but you need to leave."

What? You freeze in place, looking Zane over, eir eyes don't look at you and ey's hugging emself now tightly. You take a few steps closer and ey turns away from you. But even so, you sense that ey doesn’t actually want you to go.

"I'm sorry, Zane-" you speak softly "I do love you, I love you so much"

Eir shoulders shake a bit and ey turns eir head in your direction, finally. You reach your hand out and gently touch eir shoulder. Ey exhales deeply and ey immediately leans into your touch.

"You hurt me so much."

"I'm sorry. Please let me fix it, Zane" you rub your thumb in gentle circles on his shoulder. A few more moments of silence pass between you two before Zane nods once. 

-

Evander: He stares at you in clear hostility, you take a step back after you’ve said your piece and flinch when he takes a step closer at the same time.

“That’s a stupid move.” he growls “You should’ve talked to me-”

“I couldn’t! Not without risking you!”

“You don't get to make that decision, Mc.” He turns his back on you and starts to walk away, you watch him go, your heart breaking until he stops in the doorway.

“I need time.”

“Okay”

“I mean it.”

“Yes.”

“Do NOT contact me first.”

You hesitate, but he his tone has turned softer, more begging than demanding.

“I promise.” It’s a start.

-

Aimé: Xyr eyes watch you closely, back straight and ready to be dismissive the moment you approached them.

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Xe speaks calmly “But I dont forgive you.”

It’s like a slap in the face.

“But- I did it because-”

“I am already dead, Mc. I am older than you, and honestly, I have more ways of dealing with these types of problems. You could’ve spoken to me, but instead, you deceived and hurt me in the worst ways.”

You don’t know what to say. You thought once you explained everything xe would at least give you a chance. But looking at Aimé... Either xyr love for you is truly gone, or xe has taken acting lessons during the time you were apart.

“But-”

“Goodbye, Mc. I hope we can be polite at the very least. But do not seek me out if you can help it.”

-

Nova: Nova is immediately at your side, she pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, burying her face in your neck. They inhale your scent and let out a shaky breath.

“Never. Do. That. Again.” They whisper into you and you feel a surge of relief. You wrap your arms around Nova and hug them back, your breathing immediately getting heavier as you fight the tears of relief.

“Thank you- I love you-”

“I love you too, so, so much” Nova sighs and squeeze's you once before they pull away, still holding you by the shoulders.

“But you need to promise that you wont do it again, Mc.”

“I promise.”

-

Kane: You stand in front of Kane’s door and inhale deeply, going over the words in your head before you lift your fist towards the wooden door. 

Knock-Knock-Knock

...

No answer.

Your back straightens and you look down at the handle, people have told you that they haven’t seen Kane around for the last few days, they’ve also been skipping classes... They’re probably still heartbroken. You inhale deeply and mentally promise them to make everything better.

You try the handle and the door opens.

You walk inside and pause. 

Everything is trashed. Kane is nowhere to be seen.

Kane is gone.

They left.

-

Mystery: The silence makes you nervous, her eyebrows are furrowed. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I couldn’t risk it anyway.”

“What did they expect, that we’d-” She stops herself and sighs, you see some of her true self shine through before she slams her walls back down.

“Then... I suppose It wont hurt to start again.”

Honestly, you’re just happy you’re getting that.

-

Zane-Aimé: Zane’s hand clasps Aimé’s hand once you finish explaining yourself, you inhale deeply as you look between them two.

“I’m sorry you went through that, Mc.” Aimé says, xyr voice is cold “But you don't get off the hook so easy.” 

Your eyes widen at the sight before you, Aimé looks so angry and Zane just looks... sad. His eyes stare off in the distance before meeting your eyes, ey looks conflicted

“I want to fix this- I love you, both of you” You say, your voice as gentle as you can make it.

Aimé lets out a bitter laugh and looks away from you “You hurt us in the most terrible way. And the worst part is this could’ve been avoided if you had talked to us!” Xe growls before looking down at Zane when ey pulls on xyr hand.

Zane stares Aimé before shaking his head and pulling xyr close, xe easily goes to him and wraps xyr arms around him. 

“We need time, Mc.” He speaks calmly and Aimé buries xyr face in the fabric of his shirt. “We dont know if getting back together just like that is an option. We need to talk with each other, process this...”

Your chest is heavy, you wish you could be over there comforting both of them... but they don’t want you right now. You swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head. 

“Okay... I- I’ll be around.”

-

Nova-Kane: Nova and Kane stand there shocked, staring at you when you finish explaining yourself. You’ve had to follow them around school for the whole day because they’ve been avoiding you, but you finally managed to corner Nova and convince her to call Kane over.

Nova and Kane look at each other, something akin to a mental conversation happening between the two... when suddenly they become blurry shapes as both of them throw themselves at you.

“OH THANK THE GODS” Kane cries, immediately grabbing your face and smashing their lips against yours. Nova wraps their arms tightly around the both of you, kissing your jaw and neck. This all lasts only for about 3 seconds, but you feel like they’ve been kissing you for an eternity when they pull away, nuzzling up against you and hugging you.

“Please don't leave us again” Kane whines, clinging to both you and Nova desperately.

“Ever. Promise us, Mc” Nova adds.

“I promise” You say, a large smile in place and your heart feeling whole.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

Part 1

Hiii I don't know if you take request but can i request like a chris evans x reader like the reader and chris are married and chris is having a bad day or something so chris go out to the pub and go home drunk and its been going for 3 days and the reader and chris has a 6year old and the reader have been doing all the work and taking care of they're daughter and they're daughter miss chris bc chris is never home and just go home until 12 or 2 in the morning or if chris is home he never play with her daughter and they're daughter is sad abt it bc they're daughter though chris doesn't love her anymore and chris miss her play in school even though chris promise so that day when chris miss her daughter's play the reader confront chris abt it and chris said he doesn't care abt his daughter and he said he didn't know why he married the reader bc she's clingy but chris didn't know that they're daughter heard what chris said abt her and chris didn't know also that the reader is 6-7 weeks pregnant and the reader and chris heard they're daughter sob and that moment chris realize it all his mistakes? and apologize to them idk if this make sense and im sorry if this is so longg, thank you in advance stay safe! <3

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒅𝒂𝒅! 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕

Chris paced back and forth as he tried to call you for the 10th time. It was the next day, he was sober and the images from last night clouded his brain. Seeing the pain and anger on your face as he said he wish he never married you.

Seeing isabella crying from his disgusting words. That hurt him the most, he regret everything.

The phone went to voicemail again making Chris groan. You had every right to not talk to you, but he wanted to know you and isabella was okay. You were still his wife.

Chris sighed sitting down on the couch. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, exhaling for the hundredth time.

The house phone on the table beside the couch rung causing Chris to quickly grab it. He thought it was you but no, it was your doctor.

"hi is this Mrs Evans?" Chris frowned, "uh no but this is Mr Evans." Chris said, he was deeply confused.

"oh well you tell Mrs Evans that have her next appointment date to check on the baby."

Chris stood up, he wasn't sure he heard right. "I'm sorry, the baby?"

The innocence lady on the other side of the phone phone gasped, "oh I'm sorry, you didn't know."

"no it's fine." Chris sighed softly, his heart picking up speed in his chest. "I'll tell her, thank you." He hung up the phone throwing it onto the couch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He mumbled to himself. He really needed to find you and isabella.

*

You laid in the uncomfortable bed, isabella sleeping soundly beside you. It was around 8 in the morning and thoughts from yesterday filled your mind.

"I wish I never married you"

"Forget isabella, I don't care about her stupid play"

It hurt just knowing he thought those things. It took some time last night, but you managed to go to sleep around 3am. Now it was morning time, you were in a crappy hotel, and Chris was blowing up your phone like crazy.

You sighed pulling back the blanket. You walked to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror, your almost 3 month along bump was showing. You tore your eyes from it looking at your face. You were trying not to think about Chris in that moment.

"get it together y/n." You whispered to yourself.

"mommy." You looked back to the doorway seeing isabella. Her stuff bear was in her hands as she rubbed her sleepy eye with the other hand.

"good morning honey."

You walked over to her, "did you sleep good?" Isabella looked up at you. "Yeah, I slept great." You laughed, "that's great. Uh do you wanna go get some breakfast? We can eat some pancakes and waffles, what you say bug?"

Isabella started to think, it was almost like you can see the wheels turning in her head. "Uhh yeah. Can we see daddy too?"

Your stomach did a flip, you didn't think she'll be okay with what he said about her, but She was 6 so maybe that was the reason.

"umm... Yeah, yeah. We can see daddy." Isabella smiled, "okay, I watch TV now." She walked back over to the bed, hopping in it. You exhaled, running your hands over your face. Here goes nothing you thought to yourself.

*

Chris phone ringing interrupting him from his daze. He picked it up seeing your contact. His heart picked up as he answered it.

"y/n, are you okay?" On the other side of the phone you sighed, "yeah, I'm fine. Look um isabella want see you so can you meet us at the diner at (some street name)?"

Chris nodded even though you couldn't see him. "Yeah, of course." He walked to the foyer to put on his shoes. "Umm, I love you." Chris said. He wasn't expecting you to say it back, but you did. When you did, his heart skipped and a smile formed on his face.

You hung up the phone. You let out a sigh once again. Here goes nothing.

*

You sat in the diner, isabella beside you coloring in the booklet they gave her. You both were waiting for Chris to come.

Your mind was filled, you couldn't even figure out what you were thinking about at all at this point.

After waiting a few more minutes, you heard the diner door open. In walked Chris. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers and stuffed animal. You were guessing it was his apologize.

He walked over to you both, just like yours, his heart was beating pretty hard in his chest.

"hey." Chris smiled shyly at you as you got up. "Hi." You tore your eyes from his, looking down at isabella. She was looking up at her daddy with a soft smile on her face. Chris kneeled down to her height. "Hi baby." He said to her softly. "I'm sorry for yesterday, I didn't mean any of it, I promise. Can you forgive me?"

isabella's small smile grew to a bigger one. "Yeah." Chris smiled at her. "Okay, give me a hug."

Isabella giggled as she Wrapped her arms around his neck. Chris hugged her close. He felt relived she forgave him, he felt so bad for saying what he said to her and he's going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

He pulled away from her, he handed the stuffed animal to her before standing back up.

He looked back at you. "Uh these are for you. It's not an apology, I'll give you a sincere apology later, but for now I have these." He looked at you, he had bags under his eyes from his sleepless night, and tear streaks on his cheeks from the crying he did.

you quickly tore your eyes from His taking the flowers. "Thanks." You cleared your throat. "Uh shall we have breakfast?"

Chris inhaled, "yeah." He walked over to the opposite side of the table and took a seat. You did the same sitting back beside isabella. You all ordered trying to forget about the tension that was very much between you and Chris. It was nice that you both were talking, but you just couldn't wait for the much needed talk later that night.

*

It was around 8 pm. You and Chris decided to drop her off at his mom's house. You didn't want what happened the day before to happen again.

You sat on the couch fiddling with your shirt end. Chris was in the kitchen getting you both something to drink before you talked.

"so um.. I got you some water." Chris said walking over to you handing you the glass of water. You thanked him Taking a sip before placing it on the coffee table. Chris sat beside you with a sigh.

"I.. I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean any of it. It just slipped out because I was drunk and tired, I wasn't in my right head space in the moment and I took out on you and Bella and I'm sorry." He breathed out. He scanned your face waiting for you to speak. You shook your head, you didn't look at him but you spoke.

"yeah you're sorry, but you really hurt me. I wish I was never, that's fucked up and it hurts so much. If you never wanted to marry me why did you?"

You turned to Chris, tears threatening to spill over. The look on your face hurted Chris, he fucked up big time and he knew it.

"no, I didn't mean that, I swear. I love you more than anything. I don't regret marrying you, it was just a stupid mistake... I'm sorry baby."

Tears were starting to form in chris' eye. He felt guilty, he knew no amount of words could fix what he done but he was sorry more than anything.

"you promise?" You looked at him. Your lips were trembling Because of your crying.

"I promise." Chris said. He cupped your cheek with his hand. He placed a light kiss on your nose, but it wasn't enough for you. You went way too long without kissing him, you weren't going to waste another second not.

You grabbed his chin kissing him. Somehow his chap lips felt soft. They felt like home to you, you missed them so much.

You pulled away looking back at Chris. "I have something I need to tell you." You said fiddling with his hands.

"I'm pregnant."

Chris gave you a sour look, you already knew why. "You know?" Chris nodded, "the doctor called. they have an appointment for you, they want you to call them back to tell you."

You exhaled, "well... Surprise." You laughed making Chris smile. He missed that sound. He's been gone for so many nights he totally forgot how it sounded.

"can I come to the next appointment?" Chris pouted his lip making you laugh. "Of course you can. You need to your little peanut. I'm thinking it's a boy"

Chris frowned, "no I'm pretty sure it's a girl."

"you haven't seen them yet." You said to him Rolling your eyes playfully. "I know but I want another princess."

"touche."

--

It's not that good but thank you for reading. I had fun breaking y'all hurts on the first part lol

@chris-butt @patzammit @bval-1 @raveviolet @mrsbbarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captianamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @katiew1973 @andreasworlsboring101 @skepticnovak @funfickgirl22 @hxnesthxneybee @christhickevans @melchills-j @franchesca-791 @moonlacebeam @wallowsgirl14 @areamir

@thevelvetseries @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl34 @a-moment-captured @shookbeech @pamelalur15 @llamaproblem @jessyballet @hazeljean2 @ohbarracuda @mrspeacem1nusone @n3ssm0nique @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @chrisevanisliterallysir @beautiful--blessing @coldmuffinpartycloud @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest @writingmeow29 @corrinez

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Lifeguard on Duty

Summary: Warren was supposed to be looking for a summer job but when he sees you on the beach he decides to become a lifeguard. And hopefully confess his feelings for you

Word count: 2,376

Warren and Spencer were sitting at the lifeguard station spending lunch together. Warren had his legs kicked up in the small desk and Spencer leaned against the back wall, taking a deep breath of the shared joint. He was messing with the life preservers that lined the wall, he exhaled the smoke before passing it to Warren, moving to lean on the desk, staring out at the crowded beach. “Warren, why did you even take this job?”

“Cause I like the ocean.” Warren hummed, inhaling deeply and letting his eyes flutter shut. He wasn’t really supposed to be smoking up here but he was the only lifeguard on duty today. So goody two shoes Lance Norris, the posterboy for lifeguards couldnt rat him out. He flicked the rolled up stub out the window, watching as it sizzled out in the sand below. He stood up, exiting the booth and Spencer followed him. “Plus the view isn't bad.” Warren looked out on the women sunbathing in skimpy bikinis and the men swimming in insanely tight speedos

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Pervert.” Warren winked at him, turning back to face the beach crowd.

Warren wouldn't admit it but there was another reason he had taken the job. You. His dad had been hounding him to take a summer job so he had been out on the boardwalk picking up applications. He was planning on lying and saying he had gotten a job and then blowing all summer with Spencer but then he had seen you. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, he watched as you took the ramp down to the beach and made a beeline for the lifeguard station.

You greeted them with a wide smile and passed up a basket filled with lunch for the two lifeguards on duty. He felt himself smile as he took you in, watching as you made polite conversation with your friend before sitting down on the beach, a book in hand. Warren came to the boardwalk for a week after that to see if you’d return. And sure enough you came everyday to sit in the same spot and read. Watching the waves roll in before leaving a couple hours later. And every friday you brought lunch up to the lifeguard station, there were other days when you bought snacks for them. He figured out that you brought lunch on Fridays because your friend Mary had a shift that day, so you would bring something for her and her coworker.

So Warren applied and got in after passing the entrance exam and acing the physical. It wasn't too hard considering he used to do sports and much to the disapy of Lance, the head lifeguard, he made the force. He even had the dumb luck of working on the friday shift with your friend Mary. He was really nervous to talk to you and spend his first few shifts hiding away when you came to see your friend. But after a while Mary had had enough of his endless questions about you and introduced you both. He had nearly died when you said his hair looked pretty in the afternoon sun.

After that he tried to talk to you when he could. Making small conversation here and there and asking a million questions, but you didn’t mind. Answering every one and asking some of your own. After a few weeks he developed a friendship with you, though he wanted more. He had wanted more since the moment he had seen you if he was being honest.

He loved your beautiful (y/s/c) skin that soaked up the sun and the way your (y/h/c) shinned and blew in the wind. He loved listening to you talk about your latest book and even tried reading some of them so he could talk to you about them. Though he preferred to hear you talk about them instead.

But he was too much of a coward to voice his feelings so instead he hoped you would catch on, maybe take note of his flirting and longing looks for more. But it seemed you thought of him as just a friend. So he let the summer slip away, there were only a couple weeks left and still he was too nervous to confess. Wondering what would happen when summer ended.

Unknown to him you had developed quite a crush on the curly haired lifeguard. Even bringing him lunch when Mary wasn't there and slipping in little treats here and there. You walked down the beach, your wicker basket in hand, Warren saw you coming and leaned over the rail to the point where you thought he was going to fall over. His loose Hawaiian shirt fluttering around him, open exposing his suntanned chest to you. He whistled at you, making you laugh. “Hey, pretty thing.” He called out, as you got closer you could see him smirking at you from his perch.

“Hey you.”

He lowered his sunglasses giving you a coy wink. “What’s for lunch today?” He asked, reaching down to take the basket from your outstretched hands.

“Turkey club with a side of chips and a slice of cake for dessert.”

He licked his lips, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “You’re too good to me honey.”

You giggled, flushing at his pet name. “I know.” You both smiled at one another, so invested in your own little world you didn't even notice someone else was there until Spencer cleared his throat. You turned to look at him, breaking away from Warren who let out a groan at the loss of attention. “I’m sorry, I didn't see you there. I’m (y/n).”

“I’m Spencer.” He gave you a small wave and you returned it.

“It’s nice to meet you Spencer.” You both exchanged polite smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to be visiting Warren for lunch. If I had I would have brought lunch for you too.”

Spencer opened his mouth to reply but Warren cut him off. “Don’t worry about him babe he was just leaving.”

“I wasn’t-”

Warren shot him a pointed look with a tight smile. “Just leaving.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I get it.” Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed past Warren to go down the steps to the beach.

“I’ll see you later man.” Warren called out to Spencer's retreating form.

“Whatever.” He replied.

“He seems nice.” You said, shielding the sun from your face with your hand as you watched Spencer walk away. “Kinda cute too.”

Warren scoffed “Not cuter than me I hope.”

You smiled, crinkling your face up at him. “Maybe.”

Warren held his hand up to his chest faking hurt, as if your words had physically wounded him. “You’ve wounded me babe.”

You just laughed. “Well anyway I better let you eat lunch, I’ll see you around Warren.” You moved to leave.

“Wait!” Warren’s voice made you turn back around. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice back to its normal level. “Would you maybe wanna eat lunch with me?”

“But I only packed lunch for you.”

“I’m not that hungry ,anyway, I had a big breakfast. Maybe we could split it.” He gave you a nervous smile.

You pursed your lips, pretending to think over his offer. Warren was watching your every movement, waiting for your answer. “Alright.”

Warren’s face split open in a wide smile, he helped you up the steps and made a big show of pulling out his only chair for you. As you turned away from him he quickly shoved his trash out of view, kicking discarded candy wrappers into the corner and covering them with a bucket. “Wow, you really do have the best seat in the house.” You mused, taking in the waves and the way the sun bounced off the water.

Warren leaned against the counter, his back to the ocean, his eyes trained on you alone. “I really do.”

Talking with Warren was alway made time fly. He was so passionate about his interests that you could listen to him talk for hours on end. And he could say the same, he loved watching the way you talked with your hands and the way you talked faster when you were excited about something. Lunch had been finished long ago and the sun was already starting to set on the horizon.

“I’ve noticed you’ve never gone swimming.” Warren blurted suddenly. His eyes widened when he realized his statement could come off as rude and he quickly tried to take it back.

“No it’s okay.” You laughed. “I just never learned how.” Warren started at you with his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“You never learned how to swim.” He asked, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“I know I know.” You looked out at the ocean. “I always wanted to though.”

“Why don’t you let me teach you?” Warren proposed. “I’m a pretty good swimmer if I do say so myself.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean that’s what my lifeguard certification says.” He pointed at the hanging frame. A picture of warren hanging next to a sign that said certified lifeguard, and underneath in black sharpie, and an excellent swimmer.

You giggled. “Very impressive.”

“Seriously let’s go for a swim.”

“Aren’t you on duty Mr. Certified lifeguard?”

“Yeah but there no one here.” You looked out at the beach and Warren was right. The beach was basically empty, everybody leaving for home as soon as the sun had begun to set. “Come on, you know you want to.” Warren poked at your side playfully. “Come on, come on…” Warren poked you with every come on until you swatted his hand away with a laugh

“Alright fine!”

“Yes!” Warren took your hand and dragged you down the steps, tossing his Hawaiian shift over his shoulder to hand on the wooden handle of the lifeguard station. You both got to the edge of the water, the waves tickling your feet.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“You don’t need one.” Warren wiggled his eyebrows suggestively making you rolled your eyes and hit his chest. You blushed as you undressed, nervous at how he would perceive you. But when you turned to face him his eyes were wide with wonder taking all of you in. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, more to himself than to you.

You blushed, pulling him into the water. “Let’s swim already.” He laughed taking hold of your hand. He squeezed it as he felt you tense, the water now up to your waist. He tried to lead you further but you stopped, feet digging into the sand. He moved closer to you, putting your arms around his shoulders. “I got you.” You let him pull you further out, your feet leaving the ground as you both ventured deeper.

Warren tread through the water, his arms moving you both as you clinged onto him for dear life. Your eyes were squeezed shut, afraid that if you opened them you’d panic and struggle against his hold. Your legs were tangled with his, trying to imitate his movements. After a while you opened your eyes, Warren starring at you with a soft smile. You returned it, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, completely at peace in his arms,

“(Y/n)?” Warren asked, wetting his chapped lips. You hummed against his shoulder in response, encouraging him to continue. His heart was thumping in his chest but he knew if he didn’t say anything now he’d let the rest of the summer slip away. He took a deep breath,“I like you.” He blurted it out all at once, almost too jumbled for you to make out. But you heard it, head snapping up to meet his gaze. He watched your face for a reaction, but you just tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him close. Warren’s eyes widened as his lips collided with yours, melting into your touch. Your lips still tasted like the chocolate cake from lunch, and it made the kiss that much sweeter.

When you pulled away you rested your forehead against his, breathing in his summery scent. “Does that mean you like me too?” Warren asked in an unsure voice.

“Of course I do you idiot.” You leaned your lead back to look at him clearly. “I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Ditto.”

You rolled your eyes. “How romantic of you Warren.”

“Come on.” Warren mused, his lips brushing yours. “You know you love it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” You pulled him close again, your lips molding perfectly into his. Your fear of swimming melting away as you floated in the water with him, knowing that the rest of the summer would be spent like this. In his arms under the soft glow of the summer sun.

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