#still giggling to myself about this stupid joke

[wowzees]

no matter what

lando norris x reader

y/n is not used!

a/n: this is a short story from uni- i have to make a collection of them

the one i posted earlier was also one, but these have not recived feedback from my professer or have been majorly edited. enjoy!

High school felt like the longest four years of my life. Days blurred into each other, routines became a way of life, and I thought I had everything figured out. I was one of those kids who had his group of friends, the sport he played, and the classes he took, all laid out in a neat, predictable order. Nothing ever really changed.

And then, there was her.

She’d been there from the start. The girl who wasn’t just a friend,she was something more, though I never said it out loud. We’d grown up together, laughed at the same inside jokes, gotten in trouble for the same stupid things. She knew me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I knew myself. She was the one I could count on for anything. She was the one who could make me laugh on days when nothing felt right. When life got heavy, when there was uncertainty about my future, she was the one I turned to. And I thought that would never change. Or maybe I didn’t think about it at all. Why would I need to? She was always there, like a constant in my life, something I could rely on. But looking back, I see the warning signs. Small things that I chose not to notice. 

At first, it was little things— how she stopped coming to my house after school everyday. How she stopped calling me for big milestones. It’s easy to ignore changes like that. Until they hit you all at once. And then, it was too late.

Without her presence, I started hanging out with the kids from my soccer team more, and more. I told them about all my problems with her. Their solution? They wanted me to prank her. I wanted to fit in. So, I agreed.

Maybe I was too busy with soccer, or maybe I just took her for granted. But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing her the way I always had. I saw how my actions hurt her. But, somewhere along the way i stopped seeing that. I stopped seeing how my actions hurt her.

But I didn’t think much about it at the time. After all, things had always worked themselves out between us, right? I guess I never thought I’d lose her, guess I thought that she’d always be there.

How wrong I was.

And seeing her now after graduation, getting ready to go to college and saying goodbye to friends for one last time, I can't help but remember a time when things were so much simpler.

Age, 7. Grade, 2

“Lan, wait up” she yelled, peddling her feet. I slowed my bike down and turned to face her. 

“Hurry up! You're being slow.” she peddled faster. Too fast. I watched in slow motion as she rides over a rock, flies through the air as if it’s molasses, then falls in what seems the same way a feather falls through the air. Then promptly crashes into a trashcan, scattering trash all around and on top of her. 

I quickly stopped my bike and ran to her. She was sitting there, covered in trash from the trash can, pouting. As I stood over her, and saw her covered in trash, I almost laughed. “Stop! It’s really not funny” she sniffled, though she now seemed a little happier. 

“I've bin waiting for this to happen” I joke, hoping to make her laugh.

“It's really not that funny” she snorts while giggling.

 “Yeah, well you’re still laughing” I argue. As she struggles to her feet, I realize I should probably help her. As I move to put her arm around my shoulder, she shoves me off. 

“I don't need your help, butthead” she says, crossing her arms and stares at me with her lips pursed. 

“Sorry, man, chill.” I say, not really understanding why she didn't want help. 

“I got worse when I first started playing volleyball, it's just a little scrape on my knee. It’ll heal” 

"Ok "I mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

As we walked home, we talked about silly things, like how funny she looked covered in trash, or about the people we didn't like at school. Before we parted ways, she threw her arms around me and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss that was gone as soon as it started to my cheek. “Bye Lando! I'll see you tomorrow at school!” she said over her shoulder as she ran home.

“Bye” I yell, after she had already disappeared into the house, my cheeks still red.

She had always been brave in her own way. Whether it was running into a trash can then getting back up with a skinned knee and no tears, or hiding her fears behind that stubborn smile of hers, she never changed. She was always the same, brave girl I had known since I was a kid. I wish I had known then how much that bravery would change the course of our friendship.

Age, 12  Grade 7.

The ferris wheel creaked more and more the higher up it went, carrying us higher, and higher into the night sky. Below we could see the rest of the fair, all the people enjoying themselves just like we are.

Her posture was slumped, and she was practically shaking on the little metal bench that lines the side of the carriage.

“Are you scared?” I ask. This wasn't a very normal occurrence, and I was honestly a little surprised. 

“What? Me? No! Of course not. I don't get scared” she responded, her voice shaky, and honestly not very convincing. 

“Hey, it's okay if you are scared. We all have things we are scared of; it doesn't make you weak.” I say in a soft tone, understanding when to tease and when to be comforting. 

“I'm not scared.”

“Yeah? Good, me neither. Honestly, it's really nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice being up here.”

“I guess it is pretty nice.”

“It's really pretty,” I say with a sigh.

“It is,” she responds with an airy voice.

Little did I know that while I was staring at the sky, she was looking at me.

Ever since that night on the ferris wheel, I had developed a liking for stars. She learned more about stars for me, though I didn't know that then. I thought it was just a coincidence, not something carefully planned. Ever since then, we would spend nights under the stars together, gazing upwards.

Age, 15. Grade 9.

“And that one’s named Altair” she said, pointing up at the brightest star in the sky.

“How do you know this?” I ask while chuckling.

“I learned it when I was in 8th grade for my science fair project. I won.”

“I know, you’ve only told me like a million times.”

“I have not!”

“Uh, yes you have.”

“Excuse yo- wow, it's like, really cold.”

“Here,” I say, shrugging my sweatshirt off. “Take it.”

“No, it's fine really. I don't need it, I’m fine.”

“If you don't take it, I’m actually gonna go insane!”

“Fine” she huffed, sticking her tongue out at me. “Thank you.” she mumbled.

“You're welcome.”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“We'll always be best friends, right?”

“Of course we will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

Back then, No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep. Before our future became closer and closer, before I found out she would be going to Yale. No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep under the soft lighting of the stars, but under the fluorescent lights in the highschool hallways, and the pressure from the guys, the promise broke apart. 

“Hey Lan!” she exclaims, coming up to me “Hey,” I respond. “Where are your glasses?” I ask. She has always loved her glasses. She always said it gave her more personality, though I disagree. She has plenty of personality already. 

“Oh, I just switched to contacts for volleyball! It's too impractical to have to play without being able to see, ya know? Do you like them?” I actually think that she looks stunning with or without glasses, but since my friends from the soccer team are with me, I just say 

“ I dunno man, it kinda makes your eyes look too close together.” I feel absolutely terrible as I practically see her deflate. Her normally radiant smile disappears, her shoulders begin to tremble, and her eyes go glassy. At first, she didn't say anything. I could practically see her brain thinking of ways to respond. She was trying to act relaxed about it, but I knew her well. She doesn't do relaxed about these types of things.

 I hear the boys snickering from behind me, making stupid comments about how “he is so right” and “how can she not see that herself?” and “why does she talk so much?”. I'm actually about to turn around and tell them to shut up, and that I am the only one allowed to tease her like that, but before I can, she says something.

“Oh. Well, uh, I should be going to class. I'll see you later, Lando,” she mumbles. Her normally confident posture seemed impossibly timid and shy. Her posture didn't say ‘see you later’.  It said ‘leave me alone’.

While she walked down the hallway, the only thing I could focus on was the fact that she didn't call me Lan .

The next few days, I tried finding her, though she kept on avoiding me. Finally, I found her sitting outside at the tables, eating her lunch alone.

“Hey” I greet softly, sitting down at the table outside. 

“What do you want?” she responded, her tone sharp. She was wearing her glasses again.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said on Tuesday.” I say, barely audible.

“If you're going to say something, say it louder.”

“I wanted to apologize for what I said.” 

“Do you? Do you really? Or is this just another sick prank you and your friends are playing on me, huh? I stood there and took it in tenth grade, when you made fun of my brother, who, by the way looks up to you, in the cafeteria. I stood there and took it in eleventh grade when you texted everyone from my phone things that I would never, ever say about someone and especially TO someone, posted things on instagram that I would NEVER post, and then humiliated me by making me think that you were seriously hurt, then jump up and say “it's a prank” after i started crying? I even stood there and took it when you told me that my eyes were too close together! The one thing you know I'm insecure about, and you make fun of it? You’ve changed Lando! You and your stupid friends have made high school horrible for me! And even though you've been rude, and you've been mean, and you've in general been a nightmare to be around, I'm still in love with you, and I have been for the last 10 years! And I'm done with this! I will not, will not sit here and let you bully me because I’m your ‘best friend’! I stayed your friend because I thought you would notice me! I thought you would realize, but you didn't! And I’m done waiting, okay? I’m done. Bye, Lando.”

By now, she was crying. Before I could respond to her and apologize, I hear laughing and jeering coming from behind me. I turn around and march over to where the boys are standing. They chuckle upon seeing me, and I absolutely lose it.

“Are you guys actually stupid? You made me lose the most important thing in my life, because you ‘thought it would be funny’? She is worth more than you guys will ever be. She was a better friend, a better athlete, but most importantly, a better person than you guys! I’m done with y’all.” 

I turn back to where she was standing, but she's not there anymore.

The next few days, I look for her. I see her a couple of times, but she always manages to avoid me. 

One night, as I’m packing for college, I hear someone knocking on the front door.

I run down the stairs, thinking it’s the pizza I ordered for me and my sister, but it’s not. It’s her.

“Uhm, I just wanted to return this.” she says, handing me my sweatshirt that i gave to her 3 years ago. “I just thought I should return it before I leave for Yale.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Tomorrow.” 

The second I hear that word, my world stops. I hazily thank her for bringing the sweatshirt back, then slam the door. I vaguely remember stumbling up the stairs, and sitting down on my bed, my mind running a thousand miles a minute.

 I’m going to have to live without the person who was there for me at every problem, at every bad game, at every milestone in my life, and I lost her because of my own mistakes. I lost her because I let those stupid kids influence my decisions. I lost her because I didn't know how to communicate my feelings. And now, I’ll never get her back.

I was right. I never got her back. And deep down inside, I knew I was never going to get her back. I knew this when I met Emma. I knew this when I proposed to Emma. I knew this when I invited her to our wedding. But that truly, did not prepare me for when I saw her.

“And do you, Lando Norris, take Emma Sand to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part? ” asked the priest, his voice echoing through the church that held all of our friends and loved ones. 

“ I do.” 

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. After years of knowing her,  I could almost hear her thinking ‘that should have been me.’

And I feel horrible and disgusting and gross thinking this on my wedding day, but I'm inclined to agree. It should have been her. And it would have been, if not for my own stupidity.

And seeing her, brought me right back to all those years ago. And made me wonder; what happened to ‘no matter what.’

[scatterbrainedart]

The silliest Eye avatar of the institute

[whorelaud]

reader crying to drew about tiktok getting banned, and him comforting her about it  warnings fluff!!! hurt/comfort (?), cringe, reader being dramatic & drew being chronically offline

Drew wasn't typically a social media person. Sure, he posts from time to time, but that's only to promote stuff when it's required, or sometimes when he wants to show you off. Other than that, the boy chose to live by the book, letting his manager take care of the business, and keep his fans updated only from time to time. 

Therefore, when he was suddenly startled out of his slumber to your muffled cries, of course he was confused, swiftly blinking the sleep out of his eyes, as he rubbed comforting circles to your back. 

"What's wrong, baby?" He muttered through a yawn, squinting one of his eyes closed. "Did sometbing happen, why are you crying?" 

"What do I do?" You cried out loud, attention fixing on your tear soaked phone. "It's actually gone." 

"What's gone?" He asked, gaze following yours. "Tell me what's going on, you're scaring me." 

"Tiktok's banned," you sniffled, gesturing towards the screen, where it loaded the information regarding the ban. "What do I do with myself now? I hate instagram, it's scary!" 

"Tiktok's banned?" Drew asked, grabbing the phone from your side. He eyed it with puzzlement, reading over the statement displayed on your device. "Since when?" 

"You clueless old man," you muttered under your breath, snatching the phone from his hold. His eyes trailed back to you with confusion, pupils glistening with innocence that had your heart skipping a beat. "They've been talking about it for a whole two weeks now! I thought it would be like all the other times, but they actually did it, and now it's gone!" 

"Okay, it's alright, baby." He reassured, cupping your face in between his fingers. "It's not worth all those tears, yeah? Don't want my precious girlfriend crying over a dumb app." 

"Shut up," you shyly shoved the touch away, merely for him to dodge the gesture, stilling his hands around your cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothing motions to the curve of your jaw, lips breaking into a sheepish grin, one that had you smiling like a fool. "I'm actually sad, what about my Drew Starkey edits collection?" 

"What do you need the edits for?" He chuckled, pecking your nose, then the corner of your mouth, trailing light, open-mouthed kisses all over your face, till he eventually plants a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm right here, you can look at me all day." 

"Still..." you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. "They were good edits." 

"Yeah?" The corner of his lips tugged into a teasing smirk, tone filled with amusement. "Want me to recreate them?" 

"No, yeah, I'm no longer sad." You joked, playfully rolling your eyes. Your lips pursed into a thin line, merely to supress the smile forming around your lips. 

"See, you're smiling!" Drew giggled, pulling you into a hug, as you practically melted in his embrace. "Let's jus' sleep, I'm sure they'll have things figured out soon." 

You nodded in silence, burying your face in the crook of his neck, instantly intoxicated by his scent as it filled your nostrils. 

Although it was an idiotic thing to cry over, Drew didn't shame you for it, choosing to comfort you instead, no matter how stupid it truly was. 

And that alone was enough reasons to take your last breath with him. You couldn't ask for a better, chronically offline, partner. 

–

My love ❤️: yo nvm everything is good tt is back up 😇

Drew: 🫤

a/n i live for silly and cringe content idc :'c

[funlovinzara]

May I please request headcanons for jiji with a crush that never smiles (simply because she doesnt want to) and he tries his best to make her smile, whether it be by telling a stupid joke, or anything else but it doesnt work. but once he manages to make y/n smile he is so mesmerized that he hides their smile away from others, saying smth along the lines of "only show it to me

“Indelible.” Jiji and you

You and Jiji were good friends for a while, how you became friends? You don’t really remember but, he’s always been a goofy guy. You don’t smile too often not due to personal reasons but, you just don’t want to be out there. So its rare to see your smile, not like anyone at school ever has. So by Jiji’s determination, he really wanted to see it.

“Heyyy y/n i got a totally funny story” he rambles on about his day with Okarun and Momo, he rips funny jokes here and there but he never sees you crack a smile.

• he tries for about 3 months exactly

• he tries pranks, using your humor, making funny faces, doing silly dances

•there have been times you almost laughed but you suppressed it, making him cry in goofy anger

•in the end he resorts to tickling you

You, Jiji and Okarun go to Momos house for a hangout. You guys play many games like hide and seek, hangman, spin the bottle etc. Momo exclaims to use the bathroom…

You say quietly eating the snacks Momo had for everyone until you could feel an unsettling presence behind you, in a millisecond your tickled and you let out the most cackled laugh as if you held it in since the 1900s.

Jiji looks at you with a face of utter shock, your laugh gave him the same feeling as making a newborn baby giggle. However once she leaves you alone, with you curling your stomach on floor from the tickle pain, you immediately get back up and straighten your face in embarrassment. As Momo sits herself back down next to Jiji, she raises her hand in a “mission accomplished!” But he was still mesmerized by what he saw.

he didn’t speak for the rest of the night

The next school day he went to go speak to you, “y/n, why would you ever hide such a beautiful smile from me?” You responded confused “Hide? Sorry i just don’t find myself smiling often.”

He grabs your hand and places it on his face “I want to make you happy, i want to make you smile. Only show your smile to me

—————————————————————-

SHORT IK BUT I LOVED WRITING IT

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"What's the matter?" Daryl asked, coming to stand behind you as you stared into the scant closet. His body landed flush against yours and his hands pulled your hips back into him more tightly.

You sighed. "I don't want to go to this stupid event. How is it possible there even are fancy events anymore?" you asked. "It just feels wrong..." You turned in his arms and your hands landed on his sides. He gripped your hips more firmly, more securely. "And you have to work security, so I'm going to be by myself. I'd feel a lot better if you were going to be with me, right next to me."

"Yumiko will be there," Daryl reminded you, trying to sound reassuring.

"Yeah," you said vaguely. "They didn't even give me a choice. I understand why Tomi was hiding his medical degree. Just because I had a stupid, fancy degree in the old world now I'm stuck orbiting around all these assholes..."

Daryl chuckled and you looked up at him and met his blue eyes, which were narrowed slightly in a smile. "S'just one night. It'll be okay. And I'll be close by."

"Yeah," you sighed again. You turned back to the closet. "Help me choose something to wear?"

"Mmm," Daryl hummed. He left his position behind you and stepped forward to the closet. He shoved most of the hangers out of the way, reaching for one specific item of clothing. He held it out to you, clearly proud of his joke, and you smiled. It was his vest, leather arms stitched on for the cooler weather so it was a complete jacket.

You couldn't help laughing at his joke. "Babe... I don't think it's up to the dress code. They said semi-formal."

"Hmm. Alrigh'. Put one of them fancy dresses underneath it," he retorted, still smirking.

You grabbed the hanger from him. "Somehow, I don't think it'll fly... but I tell you what—maybe I can save it for later tonight when it's just the two of us. You know... as a complete outfit." Daryl's eyebrows lifted.

"Ya better not be teasin'," he drawled.

"I would never joke about something like that," you giggled.

Prompt: "Help me choose something to wear?"

[jackiesunshines]

SORRY, I'M SO STUPID | S.LOHMANN¹²

summary: you're an idiot who lost the love of your life. somehow, you get her back.

contains: sydney lohmann x bayfcplayer.ᐟreader, exes to lovers, mentions of relationship insecurities, sorta messy timeline, mentions of concussion/injury, jealousy, jealous.ᐟreader, sydney got the patience of a saint, they're inlove your honor, some angst with fluff

word count: 6.0k

author note: first fic on this blog, hopefully you cool ppl in my phone like it. lil warning for the fic going from past tense to present tense alot, that's the point. i tried a slightly different writing style doing this so let's hope it eats. enough yapping, enjoy ❤️ p.s. this is a lyrics fic.

PLAYING THINGS I WISH YOU SAID BY SABRINA CARPENTER

baby, sorry, i left you in the dark. i always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car

you are really fucking stupid. at least, that's what you have been telling yourself for the past two months.

you're in your car, on your way to deyna's party. of course, san jose traffic is packed and going at snail speed, leaving you with time to think many thoughts. way too many thoughts.

thoughts that are mainly involving a pretty, german blonde who used to be yours at one point. she would still be yours right now if you didn't end things impulsively.

what did your parents say when you were a teenager about how social media is poison? you are slowly starting to agree because you let opinions circulating around social media and your insecurities end a good thing. now the one person you didn't want to hurt in this life is hurt and you're hurting alongside her.

you almost want to forget about her, but who could forget about sydney?

that's why when you change lanes to reach your exit on the highway, your hand automatically goes to the passenger seat to reach for a thigh that isn't there.

right. she's in germany, not here.

you're so fucking stupid.

baby, everything reminds me of you. nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks i'm fucking rude

being at practice reminds you so much of sydney. it makes sense, you both are professional players. so of course your day is riddled with memories of sydney.

arriving at the training facility reminds you of that time sydney told you she tripped coming into bayern's training building, and she was teased for days.

going through drills has you thinking about when sydney whined on the phone everyday about her legs and feet hurting after practice.

time in the gym, doing your cardio is not that different from the days where sydney and you would workout out together. getting a sweet treat right afterward.

so, by the time training is over, you are ready to get dressed quickly in the locker room and duck out to go drown in your self-pity and regret at home. it's too bad that even the locker room reminds you of sydney or the lack thereof.

“why are you changing so fast? trying to run away from those bad shots you made?” jen jokes, coming to sit by you at your cubby.

you look at her, your hands still occupied tying your shoe. “you cannot be talking after the amount of times you fell. your age catching up to you?” you say in a similar joking tone with a side of deadpan,

or so you thought as everyone looks at you like you're crazy.

“i was just playing around, chill,” jen says. her words confuse you and so does the reactions of your other teammates.

did your joke have venom that you were unaware of behind it? or did you say it more on the side of deadpan than joking?

all you know is that sydney would have laughed at that. she would be giggling so hard, her face would get all red. then she would have thrown an even better insult right back at you.

you really miss her.

when i saw you cry, i didn't handle it well. without you here, i don’t know what to do with myself.

your nights have been so boring ever since you broke up with sydney. the same routine: get home, shower, water the plants, eat dinner, and then spend an hour or two scrolling on social media trying to fight the urge to stalk sydney's page.

you had blocked the blonde back when you two first broke up. you remember how klara texted you about how that's “childish and just hurts you both more.” she's right, of course, but who's going to tell her that? not you. not after you made a whole big deal about moving on and focusing on your career.

moving on doesn't even seem right. that's for people who were heartbroken by chance, not on purpose. it's not for people who hurt themselves by ending something that was good and stable because they couldn't get out of their own head.

still, as you lay there and scroll, your entire being craves for what used to belong to it.

you desire sydney's warmth.

you miss sydney's scent.

you are hungry for sydney's kisses.

you need to be held down by the weight of her body on top of yours.

instead, you are being weighed down by the pain you inflicted upon her. haunted by the sight of tears filling up in her eyes the day you ended everything and walked away. the unanswered text messages she left you the following night after she got drunk. the single text that followed the morning after that,

those were mistakes. ignore them.

everything blares in your head like an alarm that never stops. a clock that is broken, but not because it doesn't sound off but because it continues to sound off even if you want it to stop. there is no snooze for your regret, not with the way your dreams are filled to the brim with thoughts of sydney, too.

i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.

syd's barely affectionate with her.

they don't give off girlfriends vibes.

sydney is more cuddly with her friends than her own girlfriend.

wonder when they are going to break up.

it's not going to last.

you reread the comments that led to your self inflicted suffering in the first place. the noodles in front of you on the table have run cold and your appetite is halfway gone at this point anyways.

social media has never been a big part of how you move throughout the world. you love to doomscroll, and of course, you have your favorite creators across platforms. you know about different trends and internet slang. duh, you aren't thirty. but you never used to let social media dictate how you interact with people outside of it. social media is full of algorithms and echo-chambers made to take over people's thoughts. forcing them to stay on apps longer than needed to look for solutions for problems that have been caused by said apps.

that's always how you felt.

but even you fell into the trap of social media. early in your relationship with sydney, you were too in the honeymoon phase to think about looking at socials. too wrapped up in sydney. however, when you two calmed down into a just as in love but more controlled state, your mind started wandering.

wondering what people are saying about you two. do they find you two cute? couple goals? were there fanpages for your relationship?

other players who are in relationships often have these things, so why wouldn't you guys have those as well?

what you didn't expect to find was people overanalyzing the way sydney and you interacted in public. for people to wonder if you guys are even in love.

“they don't see me when i'm with you. they don't know how attached i am to you every second we are alone,” sydney said when you brought up your growing insecurity. she was smiling all sweet, sitting on top of you.

how could you not believe her with the way she's kissing the frown off your lips?

your insecurities still grew and grew and grew until they became a hill. a hill, you weren't able to climb over.

they don't know how sydney loves wearing your clothes around and outside of the house because she's obsessed with your smell. they don't know about all the nights she cuddled into your side, basically glued to your skin. they aren't there on the days you were in sydney's apartment, cooking and dancing with her. they don't see the way she is all over you when you two are alone.

yeah, she wasn't super affectionate in public but that's only because she got so shy every time you showed her any love.

fans online didn't know about any of that, but you wish they did. you wish you didn't put so much value into their opinions because you probably would still have sydney in your grasp right now if you didn't.

if only you came to sydney about this more. the german player would rush to do anything that would make you feel better, more secure. but no, you just couldn't because you were afraid she would be annoyed you kept bringing the topic up after she reassured you the first time.

sydney would have never done that and you knew that.

that wrongful thought was influenced by that stupid hill in your head that was built on tons and tons of mean comments. the weariness of long distance fueled the comments impact on your mind deeply. getting reassured over the phone wouldn't be as satisfying as in person, so you never brought up the topic again and everytime you were with sydney, you didn't want to ruin the moment so again you didn't say a word. all of this created a hamster wheel you couldn't get out of.

you get up from the table, throwing your noodles away. they are too cool to eat now, and reheated noodles do not sound appetizing.

slipping into bed, your mind thinks back to the past over and over again until it tires itself out enough that you drift off to sleep.

things like “darling, i hope you know it scared me to death. the night that your sister said you got into an accident.”

number that SHOULD be blocked

i'm so sorry about your injury

when i saw you go down, my heart fell to my ass

i hope you have good ppl around you to take care of you ❤️

contact changed to sydney

you

i do

thanks for texting

sydney

….

yk i'm here for you too, right?

ik we broke up and aren't supposed to talk but

i'm just rlly worried about you

your heart feels like it's beating at 100 miles per hour. first, sydney texts you then second, she's worried about your injury and third, she wants to fucking be there for you.

is this a dream? have your wishes to get her back finally come true?

you look at the text, pondering what to send back. an immediate yes would be too desperate, right? but you are desperate for her you think to yourself.

fuck it, just say yes.

right when you are about to text back, sydney beats you to it.

sydney

there's no pressure

i know we haven't talked in forever

how is she being so considerate when you're the one who broke her heart?

you

i want you

sydney

??

you

i mean i want you to be there for me

can we talk pls?

be friends or whatever you want

sydney

duh

i'm the one who offered

there go the other side of sydney that you know and love.

“and god, i, i'm watching everything that you do. i can't get your songs out of my head or your hair out of my room.”

sydney and you have been texting back and forth everyday since that day she texted you. anyone looking from outside the situation would said it's heading straight for disaster. exes texting regularly again? especially when one is still very much inlove with the other? a speeding train just waiting to crash.

to that, you would say they don't understand. there isn't no tension or lingering resentment or anger between sydney and you while yall talk. that truth surprises you considering the fact you basically dumped sydney four months ago. if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't want to see her ever again, but somehow sydney's heart is overflowing with so much love that she doesn't have room to hate you.

she checks up on your well-being pertaining to your head injury. the recovery so far has been slow, very slow. you aren't even in rehab yet, still stuck at home resting and sleeping throughout the day. thankfully, your parents flew to san jose to come take care of you.

when you aren't sleeping, then you are texting sydney. her check-ups on you have slowly turned into long conversations about her day. texting her almost makes you feel like you two never broke up, that you two are still dating.

when you can't talk to her or are unable to sleep, you keep up to date with bayern munich. if someone asked why you were watching them, you would say not only for sydney, but that would be a lie. just a little white lie, though. you're watching for klara, lea, and lena too.. but mostly for sydney.

seeing her in her element, all sweaty and passionate, makes your head feel a little less broken, so yes, you will continue to watch her matches without telling her.

and what you don't know is that sydney thinks of you every time her feet touch the pitch. how she goes even harder than normal to impress you just in case you are watching. she hopes you are watching her, she always has and always will. even right after you broke up with her and she had to push her feelings down to go put on a good performance for germany, she played so hard she was MVP of both friendlies. back then, sydney hoped you viewed her performances with envy. with deep regret for letting go of a woman like her. now she hopes you look at her in admiration when she plays well.

you also don't know that sydney never threw away any of the gifts you gave her during your relationship. she was supposed to throw everything away in a box like lea recommended, but she couldn't. she couldn't throw away all of the memories she had left of you in her home. she couldn't delete the pictures she had of you in her phone. she couldn't even block your number.

sydney hanged onto every single last string she had that was still connected to you. it's hard to let go after being dumped. she thought, no, she knew you were the love of life. her entire world came crashing down when you sat her down on the last day of you visiting her in germany, suddenly saying you believe you two should be over. that long distance isn't working out for you anymore.

she cried for a week after you left. klara had to come over and help her clean up her apartment after a week of just crying in bed.

after that, the blonde slowly tried to move on. she went out more, with and without her friends. posted more on instagram. pushed herself into drowning in work related to football. even all of that didn't help her forget about you. she couldn't. her soul still yearned for yours.

she watched your matches in secret, all of her attention focused on you. her heart rate would perk up whenever commentators said your name. she wasn't able to pull her attention away from her tv when the camera would do a close-up of you.

so obviously, the day you got injured, sydney knew. she saw the way you went down and didn't get back up. her blood was rushing to her head, her chest was hurting as she watched you get carried off. it nearly felt like she was the one injured with how her body was feeling.

could sydney be faulted for texting you? for worrying about you? klara would slap the phone out of her hand if she knew about this, but good thing klara wasn't in her apartment. going off straight adrenaline and concern, sydney sent that text that led to you being back in her life.

texting back and forth everyday has sydney dopamine hooked. you still have the same effect on her that you always have.

every time she texts you, her eyes glance around her room at the various things you left behind when you broke up with her.

the sweater you never asked for back.

the dragon stuffed animal she won for you at a carnival.

the brush you always used when you came over. she couldn't bring herself to use it after you left her, so it just sat on her vanity, taunting her for ages.

sydney told herself that when she texted you about your injury, you two would keep a certain level of distance. that you wouldn't become lovers again. that she was only checking up on you every day because you deserved people in your corner.

that last part is true, but her other motive is also there: she wants you back.

i saw you meet somebody, and i'm jealous as hell. that i can't even stomach loving someone else.

the texting between sydney and you have gone from texting to calling. a big leap, but you both admitted to liking calling more than anything else.

the calling is totally not an indication of falling back into a similar routine from before the break-up.

or maybe it is because you don't fall asleep on the phone with your friends, you don't text your friends good morning and good night, you don't send so many selfies of yourself to your friends. those are actions you always have done with sydney.

anyone could see that you two still like each other, obviously, but you are seemingly blind to it.

perhaps it's the regret, pity, and guilt for ruining a good thing for no reason that's keeping you ignorant of what's growing between you two once more.

that ignorance wouldn't last forever.

sydney and you have now been in contact again for five months, more than no-contact lasted. your recovery is coming along better than your doctors expected. your head doesn't feel heavy anymore and you can have the tv above sixty without your head feeling like it's going to explode. sydney was more happy about this progress than you were.

syd 🥺

just watch

in a few months you're going to be able to run and play again

you

my doctors said that's not happening so soon

syd 🥺

idcc

you're like half magical so you will recover soon

you

LMAOOO

half magical is insane

you're crazy

syd 🥺

crazy or optimistic?

you

both…

syd 🥺

WOW??

okay i see how it is

say this to my face

incoming call from syd 🥺

after you answer the call, sydney and you talk for three hours. bickering back and forth with a mix of talking about your days. of course, your day is the same as always. you slept, ate, crocheted a bit with your mother, and saw your doctor. meanwhile, sydney's was full of life per usual. she went grocery shopping, helped lea clean out her spare room, got some sweets from a bakery, and “saw the cutest dog while walking home” in her own words. hearing about her lively days makes you feel a bit better about your own days that are very simple and very boring nine times out of ten. there isn't much a person recovering from a concussion can do.

you could push away and ignore your feelings when you two were in just a bubble of you and sydney. nobody else is in the way, questioning if exes talking everyday was healthy. nobody wondering if all that contact would lead to something more.

that bubble is broken the day you see something that makes you feel sick.

it's a saturday, you're scrolling on instagram. sydney is busy at a gathering with some friends, leaving you to your own devices.

sorta already missing her, you go on her instagram to look at her posts. you had unblocked the moment you two started talking again. as you click on her story, you wish you still had her blocked.

your head feels like it's going to explode as you look at the photo: sydney is sitting on a couch, and some girl is on her lap, smiling way too hard.

what the hell was going on?

you almost type out a message to sydney before you get control of your emotions. it isn't your place to be jealous or hurt or annoyed. sydney and you aren't together anymore. you two are friends, only friends right now.

you feel sick as you swipe out of instagram. it's time for a nap before your head falls off of your body with the way it pounds.

seeing sydney with someone else is making you stop believing the lie that you two were platonic right now. you could never be friends with the woman you love.

i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.

that instagram story sets off a series of events.

first, you slowly took a step back from talking to sydney. the step back was so slow that she didn't notice at first. honestly, you took two more months to not talk to her everyday because you were hooked on her messages. hooked on her jokes and selfies and laugh and cute rambles. still, you somehow did it. instead of talking everyday, you two talked three days a week and only for an hour. way less than you two used to do.

second, you started putting tons of work into your recovery. seeing a physical therapist and slowly incorporating small, easy exercises into your day helps you come closer to getting back on the pitch. the first day you step back onto the bay fc training facility grounds, your emotions are everywhere. you haven't seen your teammates as much as you use to when you were not injured and seeing them training while you were just visiting the physical therapist killed you. they were all happy to see you though, catching you up on everything that has been happening since you were away. your head injury has calmed down enough that you could sit outside and watch everyone else practice. all the shouting and sounds of bodies moving doesn't irritate your head thankfully. you follow this similar routine for a long while, even if you are slightly sad about not being able to play.

and finally, sydney confronts you about pushing her out of your life.

you're lying on your bed, having just came back from a day at the bay fc training facility. you and sydney haven't talked for a week straight, her apparently busy with her life over in germany and you making an active choice to talk to her less.

that's why when a notification from her comes up on your screen, you look away from your screen then back at it to see if this is happening right now. it's not the notification itself that makes you act like that, but the message,

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

why are you treating me like this again?

you

sydney

what are you talking about?

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

you're ignoring me

we barely talk anymore

what's gotten into you?

you try to think up an excuse. eventually landing on,

you

yk i'm busy with rehab and stuff

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

bullshit

stop lying to me

you

calm down syd

omg

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

don't tell me to calm down wtf

first you randomly break up with me for some stupid reason

“long distance isn't working” whatever that supposed to mean

i just know in my gut that's not why you left me

now we became close again and you're leaving me again?

why let me back in your life if you're going to do this to me

your head is starting to pound as blood rushes to your face. you always hated when sydney was angry with you and this time is no different. it's justified though. what you're doing is really cruel, pushing sydney away after becoming close with her again. you have hurt her once again.

you're so stupid.

in the process of trying to run from your feelings, trying to ignore the jealousy seeping from your psyche after seeing the photo of that random girl on her lap in that photo. lost in your thoughts, you don't realize that it's been ten minutes since you replied to her.

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

okay

do what you want

march 14th, 11:11pm, read

ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

“i don't know how to say this.. but you deserve an explanation. you wouldn't answer my calls or texts, and i get it. i left you not once but twice. both times for stupid reasons that i should have communicated instead of going ghost. the day i broke up with you.. i cried the moment i got home. all i could think about for so long is how hurt you looked. that should have made me act, but it didn't, and i just regret everything. the first time i pushed you away, it's because i let the internet get to me. make me feel all insecure about us. i pushed you away a second time because i realized i couldn't stay platonic with you. i.. saw that insta story of yours. the one with that girl on your lap. i lost my mind because i thought i didn't have a chance with you ever again. i'm really sorry, so sorry. i miss you so much. call me back, please?”

voicemail left to sydney, april 23rd, 3:00am

sorry, i pulled the “it's not you. it's me.” one day, i'll make sure you get a real apology.

sydney

are you busy?

she texts you one day in july. you thought that she was fully done with you after not speaking for nearly two months, but thankfully she isn't. you can make this right.

you

no

incoming call from sydney

…

“hello?”

you haven't heard her voice in so long. it sounds just the same, all soft and pretty. a rush of fondness hits you.

“hi sydney,” you say, more like whisper, into the phone.

there's some shuffling on the other line before she speaks again. was she moving around on her bed? it's a nervous habit of hers to move during intense situations you think to yourself.

you push your thoughts to the side as sydney speaks, “.. i got your voicemail.”

you thought she deleted it with how long it has been since you had sent it.

“did you like it?” you say.

why the fuck did you say that?

instead of hanging up the phone in your face, sydney laughs. you have missed her laugh so much.

“i wouldn't be calling if i didn't.”

“oh right.. sorry.” you let out a laugh of your own at your stupidity. not just your stupidity from right now but all the times before, too.

then the moment you start laughing, that makes sydney start laughing again. creating a cycle of you laughing at her laughter, then her laughing at yours and again. laughing on the phone with your ex after not speaking for some months once again is actually insane, but it seems like that's just how sydney and you are: insane.

the two of you calm down soon enough. getting back to the serious conversation that needs to be had.

“you know it really hurt me when you stopped talking to me. i thought we were getting somewhere.. platonic or not. it hurts even more to know you still like me but pushed me away anyways. don't you want me?”

“of course i want you.”

“then why didn't you say anything?”

“....”

“that was a stupid question.. i listened to your voicemail. i know why.. i just want to hear it from your own mouth in real time.”

you sigh before going silent for a moment. sydney doesn't speak, she just waits.

“i just.. was so insecure the longer we were together. i know at the time you told me to ignore social media, but i couldn't. all of those people were saying we shouldn't be together and that you didn't want me. i couldn't take it. i felt like i was holding you back from someone better, so i left. then when we started talking again, i deluded myself into believing we were on our way to being just platonic but i can never be just friends with you. the night i saw that photo on your insta story, i didn't know what to do.. so i left again. i'm sorry.”

“.. i accept your apology, but i'm still hurt. i thought you trusted me enough to talk to me about anything?”

“i do.. i did.. i swear.”

“you don't act like it.”

“i'll be better if you let me. if you want me.”

“i want you, but you'll have to work for it. i'm not taking you back that easily.”

i waste my time, i waste my life on idiotic things. like things you never said. things you'll never say to me.

sydney and you start talking again after that call. things between you two move slow though, very slow. more slow than the first time you guys got together.

you know that sydney is waiting things out, trying to see if you would leave her again. she keeps a certain distance when you two speak a little too flirty. she shuts it down quickly every time, which hurts, but you get it. you have to earn that side of her again.

and you do just that.

it's in small ways than some grand gesture. you tell about everytime you watch one of her matches, mostly praising her but throwing in some critique as well. after your rehab sessions, you tell her about everything. all your feelings surrounding the sessions, how much you've been improving. everytime you feel jealousy at one of sydney's posts, you talk to her about it.

that distance between you two slowly closes. not only emotionally but physically.

the summer the year after sydney and you reconnected for the second time since the break-up, you find the time to fly to germany for her birthday.

you asked before coming, though, not wanting to mess up the new connection you two are building.

“syd, i got a question,” you say, phone propped up on the bathroom sink as you got ready for another day at training. you have progressed very far in your recovery, thankfully, and can now do some light training with the team.

“hmmmmm?” sydney murmurs. she's looking all cute on the other line, face pressed to her pillow as she lays in bed. her room is dark, with the only light coming from her phone screen.

there's some hesitation that crosses your mind, but you push it away. communication, remember?

“can i come see you?” you ask.

sydney sits up slightly after hearing your question. there's clear confusion on her face.

“what do you mean?”

“i want to fly to germany for your birthday.”

sydney goes silent for a long moment. your nerves peak, looking at your screen. was this too big of a step for her? does she need more time to be ready to see you in person?

her answer surprises you.

“okay,” she says.

you booked your flight to germany that night and next thing you know, you're there. unfortunately, sydney isn't the one who picks you up from the airport. lena takes over that job, but it's still fun to hangout with lena after so long.

you don't see sydney until the day of her birthday. she claims she's been busy and you believe her. she texts you all the time even if she doesn't come see you physically.

your mind runs wild as you get ready for sydney's birthday party. you're in lena’s bathroom, making sure your hair looks perfect and your makeup doesn't make you look clown-ish and that your fit actually fits you and maybe you should brush your teeth again-

“you know sydney doesn't hate you, right?” lena interrupts your anxious thoughts.

“duh i know. i wouldn't be here if she did,” you say, still staring intensely at your appearance through the mirror.

lena rolls her eyes. “then why are you getting ready like we're going to a pageant? sydney likes you in every way. she was really hurt when you guys broke up, but obviously, she's moved on from it if she invited you to come all the way here.”

lena's words make you slow down your overanalyzing of yourself. she's right, sydney is forgiving you right now. trying to overdo everything to seem perfect isn't going to make her like you any more. she already likes you alot.

she wants you, not some polished version.

“you're right. i'm finished, let's go,” you say, leaving the sink and coming by the doorframe to make lena turn around. the two of you leave the bathroom, then put on your shoes and finally leave her apartment.

the drive to sydney's party is a short one, or at least it feels that way. lena, and you sing along to the songs on the radio the entire way there.

once at sydney's place, your heart starts racing. being back in her space feels so strange, but so right. alot is the same, but alot is different aswell. she bought a new couch, an upgrade from her old leather one. there's more plants around the place. her tv is new and even bigger than her last one.

the apartment is basically full with all of the bayern munich team and some other people from sydney's life. the smell of pizza and chicken hits your nose as you walk from the living room, where you greet everyone, to the kitchen.

and there is sydney.

her back is turned as you walk into the kitchen, but you can tell it's her.

her hair is styled in a ponytail, and she's wearing this black tank top and nice fitting jeans. she looks so pretty. she looks even prettier when she turns around.

“y/n?” sydney looks at you like she wasn't expecting you. perhaps she wasn't fully prepared to see you in person? even though she knew you were coming to her party. she allowed you to, after all.

you smile at her, “hi syd. is it too soon to say i missed you?”

“is it too soon to hug you?” she smiles at you back.

“i would be stupid to say yes, and i'm done being stupid.”

sydney flies into your arms, embracing you tightly. her arms wrap around your neck, her cheek pressing against yours. her quick reaction would feel weird if it didn't feel so right. you hug her back just as tight. it's been so long since you've been in her arms. so long since you smelled her scent. so long since you've even been around her.

“thank you for coming,” sydney says as she pulls away. not going too far as she stands close to you.

you laugh, “i'm the one who asked you. i should be thanking you.”

“for what?”

“for letting me back into your life.”

sydney's and your reunion is cut short by laura coming into the kitchen. she gives you two a look but doesn't say anything about your closeness.

“syd, you better get in here. it's your birthday party,” laura says, pointing to the living room. sydney looks at laura before looking at you. without thinking, you grab her hand and pull her out into the living room. time to party.

you ended up staying for longer than you thought you would in germany. sydney allowed you to stay in her spare room for the rest of your time there. the two of you have many, many conversations about where you two stand currently. she's not your girlfriend just yet, but you two are getting there.

when it's time for you to leave for america, sydney drives you to the airport and even blessed you with a kiss on the lips as a goodbye. your face is permanently flushed until you board the flight.

she texts you the moment you get off the plane back in san jose as well.

syd 💕

land safely?

you

yupp

but i miss you :(

syd 💕

miss you too :((

we'll see eachother soon

don't worry

you

call you when i get home?

syd 💕

call me when you get home

author note: i might possibly be working on an alt verison of this with sydney's pov.. depends on if my brain feels like working. hope yall enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️

© JACKIESUNSHINES, 2025

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I have a few fic ideas that would be set when the reader first gets to the Night Court. I also have more Azriel imagines planned that wouldn't be in this series so look out for those! Thank you so much for all of the comments and love on this story, I appreciate it more than you know! <33

Summary: After months of healing, there is still something weighing you down and Azriel wants nothing more than to help you.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: bad body image, nudity but not straight up smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

A few months had passed since everything happened and you were feeling better for the most part. Azriel had more than proved himself and you two were best friends again. You now trained with the Valkyries and enjoyed their company. You had also been helping Amren out with translating old texts a lot lately.

You enjoyed having work to do, you started to feel like your old self again. But there were still a few things that gnawed at you.

The main thing were the scars. The physical reminder of what you went through weighed you down. You covered yourself up as much as you could everyday so no one else saw them.

This seemed to be working for you until one day, Azriel came up to you with a big smirk on his face.

"I got you a present!" the still smirking male told you

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop buying me presents!" you told him

You had never received so many presents in your life and you doubt he has ever given this many. It started out small like bringing you a coffee while you worked, then he would buy you little things here and there like a notebook for your research. Eventually, he was buying you more expensive things like jewelry every other day.

Every time you would tell him you didn't need anything, and every time he responded with the same thing - "I can't help myself, I saw it and thought of you"

The butterflies you would feel were always better than the gifts.

Amren was sitting beside you watching the interaction with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm? A chocolate croissant this morning and now another surprise? Two in one day? Seems like a new record." she spoke in a slightly joking tone, enjoying poking fun at the spymaster

You and Az made eye contact and quickly looked away, a slight blush taking over both of your faces.

After his confession all those months ago, you both began to try and be friends again. You knew he was waiting for you to be ready for more but you weren't sure how to go about it all. It was easier to push those thoughts away for now.

Deciding to help the shadowsinger escape all the joking, you stood up to go to him. He held his hand out to you, and led you up to your room. Before entering, he put his hands over your eyes, using them as a blind fold.

"Is this really necessary?" you giggled

"Of course it is! Now walk forward" he told you and you could hear the smile in his voice

You walked, well shuffled, into your room with him close behind you. He started a countdown.

"3...2...1...Open!" he shouted, removing his hands

On the wall in front of your bed was a brand new mirror. Dread filled your body. The thought of having to see yourself every time you changed made you want to vomit.

Azriel of course noticed the reaction and immediately began to worry.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I knew it was stupid, Cass helped me pick it out and he has the worst taste." Az babbled on.

"No, I love it." You told him. If you let him know you didn't want it, then he would want to know the real reason. You couldn't explain it all to him right now.

He gave you a look that showed he didn't fully believe you but he decided to let it go.

You gave him a hug and thanked him for it. It truly was a beautiful mirror. It was huge and had the most detailed golden flowers all around it. Perhaps you could focus on that and not the nasty marks that littered your body.

Night time came faster than you would have liked and the thought of changing in front of the mirror seemed like too much. You knew you needed to do this, another step in the healing process.

Eventually you made your way up to your room and began to get ready for bed.

You started to peel off your clothes from the day, breathing through each piece that came off. Once you were fully naked you couldn't take your eyes off of your body.

How would anyone be able to find you beautiful when you looked like this? You wrapped your arms around your stomach as tears sprung to your eyes. You began to softly cry.

Suddenly, you saw movement in the mirror behind you. You lifted your head until you were making eye contact with Azriel through the mirror.

Shadows shot out to cover you, helping you keep your modesty.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked

The name only made you shudder, knowing he wouldn't call you that after seeing your body.

"I'm hideous. My body doesn't even look like its mine anymore." you voice cracked

His heart broke for you, and he ached to hold you.

"Can I come closer?" He asked

You nodded and he walked until he was behind you, so close you could feel his chest as he took a breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He stated and laid his hands on your shoulders, moving them down your arm until they rested on top of your hands. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your head.

"You haven't even truly seen me to know that." you said

"I don't need to see you to know that it is true. But if you think that, then show me." he stated

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears.

"If you're comfortable, let me see." he spoke confidently

You nodded and let him know it was ok to remove the shadows. He bent down and placed a light kiss on your shoulder, right on one of the marks, then on another right next to it.

Slowly the shadows pulled away from your body and you were left compeltely naked. He was staring at your body through the mirror, in awe of you.

He walked til he was standing in front of you.

"Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable." He whispered

You nodded and he got even closer. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed a scar on your palm. Then moved to the other arm and kissed a scar by your elbow. He got down on his knees and looked up at you through his lashes.

"Beautiful" he said right before kissing a rather large scar on your stomach.

He didn't stop until he kissed every mark and scar on your body. He stood up and took your face in his hands.

"Yep, its just as I thought, you are the most beautiful being that I have ever seen." He spoke as he leaned down to your face

"But I'm broken, these scare are proof" you cried

"These scars are proof of your strength. When I look at you, I don't see anything broken. I see the the love of my life. I see intelligence, kindness, power... I see my mate." he confessed

You inhaled sharply and were confused until you felt it too. A tiny pull on your chest as if someone was tugging a string attached to you.

"You're my mate," he smiled then stopped himself, "I found out when Lucien carried you through the doors and none of us knew if you were even alive. I didn't want to tell you because of everything going on and I wanted to earn your love, didn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were so shocked, you still hadn't spoken. In a way, you were glad he kept it from you. If you had known he was your mate you aren't sure what you would've done. All of the trauma you went through must've stopped you from feeling it too.

"I understand if you don't want to accept it. After everything I did-" he started but you immediately shut down that thought

"You have more than proven yourself to me Az. You are my mate and there is nothing that could change that" You told him.

He growled softly when you called him your mate.

You both continued smiling at each other, wrapped in each other's arms.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to continue worshipping you for the rest of the night." he purred.

"It's only fair, you did say you loved groveling" you whispered and he smiled and leaned in.

"Wait!" you quickly said placing a hand on his chest.

He looked confused but you ran over to your bedside table and grabbed the chocolate croissant he had gotten you earlier. You handed it to Az with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he questioned

"It is the only thing I have been certain of in a long time." you responded and he ate some of the pastry.

He set the food down and put one of his hands on your waist, the other on your neck. Slowly he leaned in and placed a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a much longer, more passionate one and he grunted into your mouth.

The frenzy quickly kicked in and Azriel ended up worshipping your body for the next couple of days.

You still weren't fully healed and you probably wouldn't be for a while but that was okay because you had Azriel and the rest of your family to help you get there.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @anna-reader-blog

@favsrachz @julesvanslutta @kitsunetori @i-am-infinite @cat-or-kitten

@tele86 @popcornlauncher @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @anxious-cactus @amara-moonlight

@whosmys @vanserrasimp @whoevenfrickenknows @secondratecomplaint @fightmedraco

@watermelomsuger @lillilwil @kaitttttttt @andreperez11 @irelanrose

@myromanempiree @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @thestartitaness @macimads @shizukestar

@iluvyewman-blog @mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @secret-sheee @mariahoedt

@lilah-asteria @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @sinfully-yoursss @hellohauntedturnstudent @acourtofbatboydreams

@halo-mystic @tenshis-cake @vhjlucky13 @littlelunatica @blessthepizzaman

[keiluv-s]

“I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut by my best friends.” — gojo x fem!reader x geto

cw: oral sex, smut smut smut, anal, double penetration, pet names, english isn’t my first language.

wa: 3,3k

“Ladies and gentlemen! First of all, I want to thank you all for being here celebrating the debut of the first of many Halloween parties in the ancient catacombs”

I laughed, a little humorlessly. I couldn't take Itadori's booming voice over the loudspeakers seriously, and not just because of his extravagant and exaggerated lines. I drank some of the beer in my red plastic cup, the taste bittering the tip of my tongue.

“Itadori is really taking this seriously, huh?” Maki, who was wearing a pirate costume, combined with Nobara, spoke up, messing up his short black hair a bit in the way that it still looked nice.

“It's amazing that he managed to organize all this!” Nobara said excitedly, waving her arms “Come on, a party in the catacombs is awesome!”

“Was this really allowed? Or are there a bunch of teenagers invading an old cemetery?” Megumi, who apparently wasn't wearing a costume, asked in her usual humor, without taking her eyes off her cell phone.

“Who cares, Gumi? Put down that cell phone and enjoy the party!” Satoru Gojo, who looked like a male playboy model with skull make-up, excitedly intruded on the conversation, accompanied by Geto, pulling a lock of my hair in the process. I let out a groan of pain.

“Ouch, you idiot!”

“Huh? What did you call me?” Gojo looked down, due to our height difference, leaning towards me with a stupid smile on his lips.

"Leave her alone, Satoru," Geto, who was wearing only black with a Ghostface mask around his waist, interjected, slipping his arm around my shoulders in a protective way. Gojo just grinned at him.

“Okayyy, let's go!” Nobara took off, pulling Maki and Megumi along the way, and I followed with Geto and Gojo.

“I like your costume, Freddy Krueger, huh?” Geto murmured softly in my ear as we walked through the cemetery in search of the rest of our group of friends.

I was wearing a long-sleeved black and red striped cropped top, with a few deliberate rips; a short, tight black skirt, fishnet stockings and black boots that reached just below my knees.

“Thank you!” I smiled, snuggling up to him.

Geto and Gojo have been my best friends since I was a pre-teen when we met at school and we've never stopped talking. Despite the ups and downs and our three personalities clashing from time to time, I can't see myself without these two. They're the balance I need. Todō turned over a can of beer at once when we met the guys. Inumaki and Itadori laughed loudly, while Yuta just laughed weakly and nodded, saying something to his girlfriend, Rika. Gojo didn't waste any time and jumped in, wanting to join in the fun too; he grabbed a can of beer and came towards me with a look like a pouty dog.

“Could you make a cut in the can for me? It'll hurt my finger and my skin is sensitive” he said like a little boy begging for candy as he ran his finger along the beer can, showing me where I needed to make the hole.

“If I break my nail, I'll kill you, Satoru” I said in warning, joking with him, and then stuck my nail – which was stiletto-shaped – easily through the can and handed it to him.

“You're the best in the world!” he quickly took the can from my hand and drank all the liquid at once, not leaving my gaze for a second and I felt a strange warmth in my stomach.

“Hey, you three!” I heard Itadori calling us “The guys want to go to the catacombs now, are you coming?”

“Of course!” Geto said, pulling me by the waist to walk with him.

“What's in the catacombs?” I asked.

“It looks like they've made some horror tunnels down there, you know, to scare you and stuff, at least that's what I heard Yuuji saying.” Gojo replied with a shrug.

I heard a giggle from Geto and noticed the mischievous look he was giving me, but I ignored it. He knew about my questionable taste when it came to Halloween and that I loved being scared.

[...]

Nowadays, the catacombs were no longer used as much, but they were still a very well-preserved part of the city. We entered the small chapel that gave access to the catacombs' staircase; it was decorated with typical Halloween stuff: bats, spider webs, candles with fake blood and several balloons scattered around, as well as a lot of smoke. Some people danced, even though the music was muffled, and others grabbed each other on some benches. I don't know if it's a sin – it probably is – but it certainly must be morally wrong. I smiled at some acquaintances on the way to the innermost part of the chapel.

“What does it mean?” I asked Geto, pointing to a sign on the portal leading to the stairs.

“Descensus Averno Facilis Est.” he whispered in my ear “The descent into hell is easy”

“Oh, how macabre," I laughed, a little more inwardly than outwardly because of the alcohol I'd drunk earlier.

“And you don't like it one bit, do you?" He squeezed my waist and I shrugged with a sleepy little smile.

The staircase was narrow and spiral-shaped, made of old and dusty stone, just like the catacombs. Geto released his grip on me as we went down the stairs, since we couldn't fit side by side. Gojo went ahead of me, making me stand between the two of them. The air was freezing down there and it would have been pitch black if it hadn't been for the black light there, highlighting the neon dye on the walls: half-deformed skulls, more spider webs, bloody hands and blood splatters shone through. There were also some wooden signs and arrows pointing the way.

“Ok so, this way you'd better go in groups of three” Itadori began “The hallways are narrow and if this fucking thing collapses on someone” he waved his hands: fuck.

Yuuji continued talking, but I confess I didn't pay much attention, busy trying to get a view of the hallway to my right.

“We'll go this way, then” I felt Gojo's arm wrap around my waist and pull me in where I was looking, with Geto on our heels. I said goodbye to the rest of the guys, blowing them a kiss and waving goodbye with my hand, laughing silly.

That hallway was too narrow, leaving Gojo and me very close, his body all over mine, so I guessed that they were fake walls. Above our heads, neon arrows guided the way and fake spider webs stuck to my arms and legs. The catacombs obviously reeked of death, making me nauseous with all those flashing lights, and the drink I'd had earlier didn't help.

“Now comes the interesting part” Gojo whispered in my ear, his warm breath hitting my throat “Playtime has begun.”

I let out a weak laugh: "What are you talking about, Satoru?”

“Well, I'm going to count to three, and then you're going to start running” he said slowly “Do you understand?”

“Are we playing tag now, Satoru?” I felt him nod and I laughed, with a cold feeling in my stomach.

I felt him slap my ass twice, muttering "Go, go!" and stopping to give me space. I laughed and nodded before starting to run, glancing back once to catch just a glimpse of his silhouette. I had no firmness in my steps as I ran, an uneven, dusty floor didn't go very well with heels. The hallway was long and I was beginning to feel breathless and nauseous. I stopped to breathe, my lungs burning inside my chest; I took a deep breath, calming my breathing to try and hear something. I concentrated on the sound of my surroundings: the muffled melody of Chill Bill - Rob $tone playing above the ground, and the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. I started running again, trying not to slacken my breathing so as not to tire too quickly.

I turned a corner and ran into a wall, my nose hurting a little from the impact and not enough, a zombie doll suddenly came out of the wall to my left, making that typical monster noise. I screamed and my throat burned. After the adrenaline rush wore off, I laughed at myself for having been startled by it, since looking at the doll in a better light, it seemed kind of funny and clumsy. I turned around and headed back down the hallway I'd come from at the start and continued for about two minutes when I found myself at a fork in the hallway. I looked from side to side, not knowing exactly which way to go, but I went left anyway. I almost tripped over a rock there, lost my balance and staggered a little, hitting a wall. A wall that held my waist firmly. I gasped in fright and looked up, only to have a white ghost mask staring straight at me. My God, I think I've wet myself.

“Got you," Geto said, his thick voice muffled by the mask.

“Thank God, then" I said a little sheepishly and he laughed.

I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me and turned my head to look.

“You dirty bitch, I thought you were going to go right!” Gojo exclaimed behind me with a hearty laugh and fit in perfectly with me.

“It's because I'm the favorite, Satoru” Geto said snobbishly, making fun of Gojo and I could be sure that he had a stupid little smile on his lips behind his mask.

“Nhenhenhe” Gojo threw a childish tantrum, picking on Suguru “You know what a safe word is, don't you, pretty girl?”he murmured against my throat, making me bite my lower lip, already having an idea of where it was all going and I nodded.

“All right, do you want to choose yours?” Geto asked, his thick hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Hum…” I thought “Halloween.” I replied with a broad smile.

“So let's get started" Gojo said.

[...]

Gojo had pushed me onto my knees for Suguru, while he kept a tight grip on my hair in a makeshift ponytail, Geto unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his thick cock, which slapped against my cheek.

“You know what to do, don't you, love?” Gojo urged, pushing my head towards Suguru's member, if only we could get closer.

I licked the tip, feeling the bitter taste of pre-cum and went down the length, licking his balls in the process and Geto moaned hoarsely above me. It didn't take me long to take him in, my jaw aching at his size. I pulled in a breath through my nose and tried to relax before really getting down to business, but as it was Gojo who had the grip on my head, he pushed me forward and I choked on Suguru's cock, only to pull back completely. I instinctively spat on Geto's cock, making it wetter before sticking it in my mouth again, starting a blowjob. I looked up and, my god, my pussy clenched around nothing watching that scene. I may have somewhat distorted tastes, and that's fine, I can't deny getting horny at the idea of fucking ghostface; everyone has flaws, after all. Gojo forced his grip on me again, this time pulling and pushing my head several times, and I choked on each one, listening to his sadistic laughter as Suguru moaned. The brunette pulled my head back and I felt a little humiliated, kneeling on the floor with my mouth all drooling.

“I told you that little mouth was good for something, didn't I, Suguru?” Gojo said, looking down at me, pulling my lower lip, making me open my mouth, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat it into mine, closing it and I swallowed. “Good girl” He patted my wet face twice.

Geto replaced Gojo's hand in my hair with his own, turning my face and forcing his cock into my mouth, which was very well accepted. Suguru didn't have the aggressive, euphoric grip like Gojo, letting me revel in his cock and enjoy it however I wanted.

I felt Gojo lift my skirt from behind, the fabric bunched around my waist and the cold wind whipped against my ass. Satoru slipped his finger into one of the little holes in my stocking and pulled, ripping it open. I moaned into Geto's cock in protest.

It was new! :(

“I'll buy you another one, babe” Gojo laughed as he spread my ass, hooking his thumbs in the curve that connected my ass and thighs.

He ran a finger against the fabric of my panties – and I was kind of thankful it was black, since the stain of my own arousal fluid wouldn't be visible there in the dark – and began a delicious massage of my clitoris. That only encouraged me to suck Geto's cock harder, intensifying the back and forth, before moving down to suck his balls, maintaining eye contact; even though it wasn't possible to see his eyes. I rolled over against Gojo when he pushed my panties aside and shoved two digits inside me and I heard him laugh. Fuck, I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut of by my best friends. Gojo's fingers were long and slender, reaching places that mine couldn’t.

“Satoru…” I moaned slyly, getting on all fours on the floor.

“Huh? What's wrong, pretty girl?” he asked, pressing down on my clit with his other hand and I moaned a little louder.

“I think she wants to cum, Satoru” Geto said, squatting down in front of me “Don't you, little one?”

I nodded frantically, my face very much against his ghost mask.

“Oh, what a shame!” Gojo pulled his hands away from me in a loud "ploc!" and a sudden urge to cry closed my throat; I looked a little sadly at Geto.

“You're going to make the girl cry, Satoru” Geto laughed and grabbed my cheeks with one hand, forming a peck on my lipstick-smudged lips.

I heard the clink of Gojo's belt falling to the floor and a movement as if he had pulled down his pants.

“She's really going to cry when I put my cock in her tight ass, that's for sure" he said with a sadistic laugh and I looked wide-eyed at Geto, who gave a muffled laugh.

“Satoru!” I spoke with difficulty, due to Suguru's grip on my face, when I felt Gojo brush his cock against my folds, lubricating it.

“I'll be gentle, my love, I promise.”

“Suguru…” I whimpered to Geto, since he was always the most protective.

“Do you want to say your word, princess? You can.” he said, and I felt Gojo's tip in my pussy and the pressure of a finger in my ass.

I pondered for a moment. I knew that if I said, they would stop right away, I was sure of it.

But did I want to stop?

I denied it with my head and Gojo thrust into me all at once, making me moan with his cock in my pussy and a finger making its way into my ass. He thrust slowly but hard, moaning hoarsely. He pulled out his entire member and thrust in again, making me moan. Gojo slipped another finger in, making scissor movements inside my hole to widen it.

It wasn't long before I was a mess between the two of them, moaning and whimpering. The unusual burning slowly starting to turn into pleasure. Satoru pulled out of me, leaving my ass and pussy throbbing with need and my clit aching with horniness.

“Come here, beautiful” Gojo had sat down on the floor and was patting his strong thigh, inviting me “Sugu wants to enjoy that pussy too.”

I crawled onto his lap and Gojo helped me sit down, holding my legs while Geto slid Satoru’s cock into my ass. Gojo's member was much thicker than his fingers, and despite the quick preparation and all the horniness, it still hurt a bit.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, my mouth open and gasping for breath. My legs trembled and I moaned when I felt Geto's tongue circle my swollen clit. He sucked hard on the little bud with a pop. He ran his tongue down my wet length, the tip of his muscle threatening to enter my canal. The pleasure at the front distracted me a little from the delicious pain I was feeling at the back, barely noticing when Gojo's cock was halfway in. It was a new and strange sensation, but it still felt good. Suguru sucked my clit hard three times and that was enough to make me cum. My legs trembled intensely and only didn't close because Geto held them. A hoarse moan came from my lips and Gojo's at the same time as I squeezed his cock inside me.

Geto slapped my thigh and came against my lips. His mask had long since been thrown away. He took my mouth in a wet and messy kiss, his tongue sucking mine greedily and I moaned against his mouth as Gojo sank his cock all the way in. Suguru broke the kiss with a snap, a thick thread of saliva connecting our lips. He lowered his gaze to where Gojo and I connected, taking his own cock and shoving it inside my pussy. Having both of them filling me up there was too much. Too much. I felt as full as if I was going to break, and when Geto started thrusting I thought I was on the verge of madness. Suguru's thrust into my pussy made me feel Gojo's cock getting deeper and deeper.

“You like having two dicks fucking you at the same time, don't you, slut?” Geto moaned and I whimpered, just nodding my head.

Gojo's strong chest vibrated against my back as he moaned. His hands pulled my crop top up and my bra down, my breasts bouncing as they were finally released, and it was only when Satoru grabbed my breasts that I realized how hard my nipples were. Gojo pinched one with his forefinger and thumb and pulled hard, the usual pain spreading across my chest as Suguru licked and nibbled the other. I whimpered louder and more hypersensitive, feeling that delicious pressure in my womb as Geto began to massage my clit with his thumb. I grabbed his wrist weakly with my hand when the urge to pee came over me, but who said I could ask him to stop? I squirted on Suguru's chest as he and Gojo hit very specific spots inside me.

“Oh my… fuck!” Gojo groaned and slapped the curve of my ass and I felt him cum inside me, his viscous liquid warming my insides more and more, as if that were possible. Geto came a few more times before cumming inside me too, prolonging my orgasm. All three of us were gasping for breath.

They both pulled their already soft cocks out of me, the thick white sperm leaking out too, but which they made sure to push back in. I wasn't much more than a crying, wet mess, with drool and tears running down my face and cum leaking from both holes. Gojo and Geto got up and tidied themselves up – Geto's blouse was almost completely soaked by my squirt, that would be difficult and embarrassing to explain. I tidied myself up as well as I could, putting my blouse back on and letting out a sad murmur when I saw my panties bubbling in a pile of dirt, completely impossible to put back on.

“Can you get up, pretty?” Geto asked me and I said no, my legs still too weak.

He lifted me off the ground and held me on his lap, snuggling me into his warmth: “I think we'd better go home.”

“Of course, she's almost asleep there” Gojo said at the same time as my eyelids closed heavily.

[buckslvrz]

oblivious - evan buckley x fem!reader

summary: buck and reader are both so stupid they can't realize they're in love with each other.

genre: fluff 

warnings: swearing 

pairing: evan buckley x fem!reader

word count: 803

note: omg not me in my writing era,,,, no but fr if this sucks, please spare me because it's my first time trying to write in years! please like n reblog if you like it! if u don't, please leave constructive criticism. i can take it, i'm not a little bitch :P

In the bustling firehouse atmosphere, Buck and I were rushing up the stairs after a call, hoping to get a bit of peace before the alarm went off again.

I throw myself down on the couch with Buck following suit, both of us still clad in our gear but finally catching our breath. I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes, but Buck just had to ruin the silence with his big, fat mouth. "I think you might have scared the flames away for good with that one," he quipped, a playful smirk on his lips.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh, picking up a pillow and throwing it at his head. "Oh, please. Like you're one to talk, Mr. 'I Can Handle Any Blaze,'" I retorted, glaring at him with a smile on my face.

We continued back and forth, but our teasing was interrupted by the rest of the 118 walking over to the couch. Hen had a small smirk on her face and I knew she was about to say something stupid. She made it her mission to tease Buck and I every day. "Hey, lovebirds, save the flirting for after the shift," she joked, earning a chorus of laughter from the group.

Buck and I exchanged embarrassed glances, both our cheeks flushing slightly. I just huffed and stuck my finger up towards them, hoping to play it off like I didn't care. "Come on, guys, we're just friends," Buck protested, his tone slightly defensive.

"Yeah, we're friends just like the rest of you, fuck off." I added, feeling embarrassed as they all laughed at us. I turn my head slightly and glance at Buck, my eyes meeting his immediately.

They continued to tease us as they walked over to the kitchen area. Buck and I were still staring at each other. It felt like he was trying to say something but nothing was coming out. "Anyways, they're annoying." I chuckle nervously, trying to play it off as I stand up and walk towards the stairs.

I made my way down them but heard footsteps behind me. I glanced back and saw that Buck was following me. "Do you hate the idea?" Buck asked. His face was red and he was biting the inside of his cheek.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously, my head tilting slightly. He sighed and grabbed my arm gently, tugging me behind the firetruck.

"Do you hate the idea of us being together? Does it gross you out? Would you like it? I mean give me something y/n." The words tumbled out of his mouth, his hands flying everywhere. He was looking anywhere but at me.

"Buck," I sigh softly, "Of course not. I wouldn't mind being with you." My eyes widen at the words that leave my mouth, watching his face snap towards mine as I begin to panic.

"I mean if that's what you want too!" I exclaimed, my hands shaking as I laughed nervously. My face felt like it was on fire. Oh god, I couldn't do this. I didn't wait for a reaction, I just spun on my heels but his arm stopped me.

Buck wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest as he looked down at me, smiling with a small blush on his cheeks. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

I roll my eyes and hit his chest with my hands, letting them rest on his shoulders. "You're insufferable, Buckley," I smile up at him and watch as he glances at my lips before dragging his eyes back up to mine.

I save him the effort and lean up, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming our lips together. My stomach felt like it was on fire as I run a hand through his tousled hair. His lips move against mine with hunger as I giggle into his mouth. "About damn time!"

We both pull away from each other startled, and look up to see Bobby and Hen standing on the balcony looking down at us. They both had huge smiles on their faces. "Eddie! Chim! You will not believe what you just missed!" Hen yelled again as Bobby whooped and clapped his hands. I laughed loudly as Buck slipped his arms around my waist again, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"We should have done this sooner," He mumbled, bumping his head on mine gently. I hum in agreement, "I know, we're too stupid." Buck shook his head and chuckled, pressing a small kiss to my lips. "No, we're smart, we just procrastinated," he whispered, his lips brushing against mine. I pull away, my cheeks flushed as I shake my head. "Well, at least we did it now," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 7-Aphrodisiac-Chrollo/Reader

notes: Chrollo is hard to write. Sry if this is ooc lol

title is from 'Stop' by Sam Brown

...

You're in the middle of curling your hair, when your phone rings. You curse, dropping the strand of hair you were preparing to curl, carefully placing the curling iron on the stone beneath your feet, and grab your phone. 

“Hisoka, where the actual fuck are you? We’ve gotta go soon!” You say angrily, your voice echoing against the stone of the stupid church the troupe had decided to hide out in. You're wearing pajama pants and a large oversized t-shirt, bending awkwardly in front of a small mirror you have propped up against the wall, frantically pinning your hair into rollers. You and Hisoka are supposed to leave for the mission in about ten minutes, and the damn clown is nowhere to be seen. Most of the other people have left for their missions already, leaving just you, Chrollo, and Machi in the large caverness room. 

Hisoka chuckles. “I'm sorry dear, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave you on your own!” He says. You almost dropped your phone.

“You’ve got to be joking,” You say, deadpan in your delivery. Maybe this is one of his stupid jokes. You tilt your phone, propping it up against your ear and picking up your curling iron again. Might as well finish setting your hair while Hisoka goes on.

“I'm not,” Hisoka says, sounding much too pleased for your liking. “As much as I would love to accompany you, I got caught up in something.”

A beat of silence fills the speakers, as you absorb what he had just told you. Then, the anger starts the flow. 

“You got caught up in something?” You hiss, annoyance clear in your voice. Machi looks up from her own mission preparations. Of course she got the easy one, while you were stuck at a stuffy high class event, with Hisoka to entertain. You pin your roller into place, moving onto the next strand of hair, yelling as you go.

You hear Chrollo shut his book with a snap. 

“You can't just, like, abandon me!” You yell into the speaker. “I literally can't do this mission by myself, you know that!”

“I'm afraid it's out of my hands,” Hisoka says. You can hear his smile through the phone, and you almost pop a blood vessel. “I wish you luck!”

“Hey, you can't just—” Hisoka disconnects with a beep. You stair at your phone in shock for a moment, and then raise your arm to chuck it across the room in frustration.

“Fucking damnit!” You shriek, then hiss as you burn your finger on your curler. Machi chuckles in sympathy.

“Hisoka?” She asks, shooting a wry smile in your direction. You nod.

“The fucker says he cant come,” You groan, pinning your last hot curl into a roller, away from your tender neck and put away your curling iron. “He says he's caught up in something or whatever.”

Machi stiffles a giggle, and you shoot her a look of betrayal. 

“Maaaachi,” You whine, sinking against the rock floor with a groan, your hair still in rollers. No sense to take them out, after it took you so long. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You could go by yourself,” She says.

“I caaaant, I'm a noncombatant,” You whine, “And besides their expecting husband and wife, they'd totally suspect me if I showed up alone.”

“You could say your ‘husband’ flaked on you.” Machi says, “it isn't technically a lie.”

“If Hisoka was my husband I just might throw myself off a cliff,” You groan, rolling over onto your stomach, careful not to jog your rollers. 

“He's hot though,” Machi says, gathering up her things.

“True,” You say, “that's literally the only thing he has going for him.”

Machi hums contentedly, as you stew in annoyance on the cold ground, rolling carefully back and forth, keeping your neck at an awkward angle so you don't jog the rollers in your hair. 

“So what's the plan, Boss?” Machi asks, packing her supplies in her go back. You frown, and then swiftly remember that Chrollo is here as well. You tend to forget, he doesn't talk that much. 

Chrollo gently sets the book he was reading next to him, stacking it neatly on top of the other books that sit beside him. 

“I guess it can't be helped,” He says, standing up from his position on the big boss rock, and jumping down to the ground floor where the mortals sit. “I'll take his place.”

You stare at him in surprise.

“Really?” You ask, genuinely a bit confused. You didn't really know Chrollo all that well, even though he was technically your boss. He didn't really interact with you much, and he never went on missions. 

“Yes, if I must.” Chrollo says, standing a few feet away from you as you start mindlessly on your makeup. 

“Oh,” You say, a bit thrown off and confused. Machi chuckles

“You sound so surprised and confused,” She says, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and shooting you a small smile. “Chrollo does do missions occasionally.”

“Not with me,” You mutter, then cover it up with a nervous giggle. “I mean I'm just not used to doing missions with anyone but you, Machi. And Hisoka.”

“My condolences,” Machi grins, slipping her sandals onto her feet. “You work so hard for us, Name.”

“I know,” You whine, carefully contouring your nose. Chrollo coughs, and you jostle in surprise. 

“Oh! I forgot you were still here.” You laugh, whipping away the excess contour you had accidentally smudged, and shooting a smile over your shoulder. Chrollo makes an odd face, tilting his head slightly.

“You forgot I was here?” He asks, sounding a bit offended. You shrug.

“You don't really talk that much,” You chuckle, highlighting your nose. “Do you have a suite?”

“I can find one,” he says, still standing a bit back from you. You try not to be too conscious of his eyes on you as you finish your makeup, spraying it generously with setting spray. This shit better not budge all night, or you're officially losing it.

Machi giggles, tossing you a wink as she heads towards the door. “Good luck, name.” She says, and you wave in her direction as she steps out of the shelter and into the rain. Thunder booms and lightning cuts through the sky, and when it recedes you can't make out her figure anymore. You sigh. Tonight is going to be awkward. 

♱♱♱

The taxi ride is dead silent. You sit in the back, Chrollo sitting a foot away, a book sitting open on his crossed legs. You stare out the window, hair pillowing softly over your shoulders, dress pooling over your crossed legs. The Taxi driver is unbothered, airpods sitting firm in his ears as he drives on, not a care in the world that the people he's driving are sitting in awkward silence in the back of his car. You heave a deep sigh, and catch yourself wishing Hisoka were here instead. At least he never shut up. 

Hurriedly, you kick yourself, and try to make conversation.

“What are you reading?” You ask, desperately trying to fill the awkward silence. Chrollo looks up, closing his book with a snap.

“Simply cataloging my abilities,” he says, slipping the book into his pocket. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing interesting,”

“I thought you read actual books,” You say, one of your heels scraping your ankle as you cross your legs. “Is that all you read?”

Chrolllo coughs, muffling what you think might be a laugh. 

“No, my dear.” He says, turning to look at you fully. “Are you feeling prepared for the mission?”

“I guess,” You sigh, restlessly uncrossing your legs again. “We practiced and stuff, but…”

“You practiced?” Chrollo asks curiously, and you turn to face him fully. He has his hair down for once, and a piece of fabric covering his forehead marking. You catch yourself thinking he looks handsome. He should wear his hair down more often.

“Yeah, Hisoka and I,” You say, “We mostly just memorized our characters' names and stuff like that.”

Chrollo nods. 

“I see,” He says, reaching into his coat jacket for the wedding invitation. “You didn't practice being newlyweds?”

You laugh, tilting your head back and pulling your freshly curled hair over your shoulders so it doesn't get smushed. 

“We didn't really need to,” You say, watching the driver's screen through the plastic window separating the driver from the back seats. His map says you’ll arrive at your destination in fifteen minutes. “We’ve done a lot of missions together, and besides, Hisoka can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

“Ah, I see.” Chrollo says, flipping the invitation open and reading it carefully. “So we are Mr and Ms Benton, then?”

You nod, recalling the information along with him in your mind.

“We’ve been married for two weeks, and we're so in love everyone is annoyed and disgusted with us.” You say, watching the blue dot that symbolizes the car your riding in move closer and closer to your destination. 

“Right, and our mission?”

“Get in, steal the necklace and get out without causing a fuss.” You reply, sighing. “It's this a lot of hassle for one necklace?”

Chrollo chuckles, slipping the invitation back into his suit jacket with a small smile.

“Maybe,” He says, “But we all have our part to play.”

♱♱♱

The part is a boring one. You nod, smiling through your teeth as this man talks on and on, throwing in the occasional ‘Uh Huh’ to be safe. Chrollo, hand wrapped around your waist, smiles widely, his eyes glazed over. 

You shift closer to him, leaning over to whisper through your teeth.

“Can we go now?” You ask, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your stomach as he squeezes your waist comfortingly. 

“We haven't done what we’ve come here for yet,” He whispers back quietly, barely moving his lips. 

You roll your eyes, and tune back into the conversation. One man has cornered the two of you in the corner and is talking at you about his money and how many cars he has and how his last wife was a model and blah blah blah. You aren't paying attention at all. 

“And i have just added a new Bugatti to my collection,” The man says, pausing like you should clap or something.

“Oh cool,” You say, deadpan. The man chuckles, seeming to not at all get the sarcasm in your tone. 

“If you want to see them, pretty lady, you can come over to my place after—”

“You have some impressive cars,” Chrollo says, squeezing your waist twice. The signal. You take a swig of your champain, then set it gently on the table beside you. You want to come back to that. 

“Oh hubby, I think I'm feeling a bit faint!” You whine dramatically, bring a hand up to your forehead, closing your eyes and tilting your head dramatically. Chrollo gasps, abruptly sweeping you off your feet and into his arms.

“If you’ll excuse us, I'll be taking my wife to lie down for a bit,” Chrollo says to the man in front of you guys. Your eyes still closed, you peek out of the corner of one eye to find the man eyeing you with disappointment. Quickly, you close your eyes again.

“Hurry Baby,” You whimper dramatically. “I feel faint!”

Chrollo's hands tighten against your body and you feel his chest vibrate against your side. He must be laughing. But he speeds away at your instruction, moving towards the powder room, which just happens to be in a long hallway off the main room the party was situated in. the perfect place for the two of you to disappear to for about two minutes. Just enough time to get your hands on the necklace. 

“How did it go?” Chrollo asks as you return to his guard position, situated a few feet away from the door of the women's bathroom. You grin, flashing him a thumbs up.

“A brief scrap with a security guard, but i hide in a closet,” You say, taking off your plastic gloves and dumping them into your small clutch purse. It was almost laughably how easy stealing the necklace had been. After Chrollo had let you down from his arms all you did was walk the ten feet to the storage room and hide from the lone security guard in the nearby closet. Then you just swiped the necklace and placed it in the plastic bag you had prepared, and dropped it out the window. Now all that was left was to go around the house and retrieve it. 

“Now we just need to get out of here,” You say, wiping the sweat off your hands and onto your dress. “You think we can escape without car guy yelling at us again?”

Chrollo chuckles. “Not likely, I'm afraid.” He says, grabbing your waist as the two of you walk back towards the brightly lit entrance room. 

“Oh well,” You sigh, “I wanted to finish my champain anyway.”

Sure enough, it takes you all of five minutes for the car guy to find the two of you again, walking with you as you beeline for your champain. You're going to need all of it to survive even five minutes of this guy talking.

“...and just yesterday, I added to my new Rolex collection…”

“Oh really.” You say, downing your champain. It tastes a little weird. Maybe it's gone a little flat in the short amount of time you were gone. You place the empty cup down on the table beside with a clank. The man looks at it, his brown eyes sliding to you in a way that makes your skin crawl, and you shiver. Chrollo squeezes your waist gently, hand sending butterflies frolicking around your stomach. 

A beat of silence passes. Then the man speaks.

“Do you feel alright, miss?”

You raise and eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. 

“I'm fine?” you question, and then after a beat an escape plan starts to form. “You know what, I'm tired. Can we go home now baby?”

Chrollo springs into action, gripping your waist and spinning you towards the exit with a grin. 

“Of course dear, whatever you want.” He says, voice fakely sweet as the two of you march towards the exit at a brisk pace. You wind through the small circles of people, about seven to five people in each round, talking of this and that. They spare the two of you a passing glance before returning to their conversations. You catch snippets of them as you wind by, nothing of any interest or note. You feel a bit hot, longing for the cold air of the night. You can't wait to go home and take a shower. 

Finally, the two of you escape into the night, the cold air enveloping you. You still feel a bit hot. Chrollo leans in, whispering in your air as the two of you stop a few feet away from the front doors of the manor. 

“I'll get the necklace.” he whispers, pulling away from you with a brief kiss to your forehead. Then louder he continues, “Stay right here baby, I'll be right back.”

You nod, hand tracing the spot he had kissed as you watch him disappear into the night. Your skin tingles where his lips had touched it, and your heart pounds a bit fast in your chest. You still feel hot, even though you’ve escaped into the cold air. You sit down on a small bench, feeling a bit out of breath, and stair at the manor you had just exited. It's really a lovely building, the gothic architecture hiding in the shadows of the night. Light pours out from most of the windows of the multi story building, casting panes of yellow light onto the cobblestone driveway. The manor is on the main road, but set back to give the illusion of exclusivity. You yawn, sinking back against the small bench.

“There you are, pretty lady.”

You jump, opening your eyes abruptly. The car guy from earlier is standing over you, his legs only a few inches from your crossed legs. You glare up at him, much too tired to deal with his nonsense. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, your annoyance leaking out in your tone. Where the hell is Chrollo?

The man scoffs. 

“Why so rude, girly,” He simpers, “you should be loosening up to me soon.”

“You're bothering me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes. You feel a bit weak for some reason, muscles refusing to cooperate as you force yourself to stand. You totter a bit and the man catches you. His hands feel unpleasant, and you recoil quickly. 

The man considers, tilting his head to the side in confusion. 

“It should be kicking in about now,” He mutters to himself, hand on his chin as he eyes you up and down. His eyes feel slimy, goosebumps run against your skin as he grips your biceps, holding your arms against your side. “No matter, I'll just have to start early.”

He licks his lips, and your skin runs cold as what he intends to do to you becomes clear. You struggle, but feel strangely sluggish. Your body feels like jelly, hot and cold at the same time, and your limbs feel weak. The man laughs unpleasantly, grinning down at you, his eyes focused on your boobs.

“Not so tough now, aren't you?” He simpers. 

You try to struggle, trying desperately to pull your arms from his grip, to twist away, to escape. But you can't. You should be able to, this man is not more physically fit than you, but for some reason your body feels so weak. You bite back a whimper of fear, desperate not to show any emotion. It's been a while since you were afraid. 

“Your husband left you all alone, did he? Don't worry, i'll take good care of yo—”

He stills, his body going straight and tight. And then his eyes roll back and you watch him topple sideways, his hands leaving your arms as he crumples to the ground. You bite back a sob of relief as Chrollo grins at you, patting his hands of any free dust. 

“I've got the necklace, so let's head out.” He says, and then as he takes you in, trembling slightly like a leaf in the wind he continues, “are you alright?”

You shake yourself, forcing a grin as you fight through the liquid in your brain and the jelly in your limbs. You shoot him a smile.

“Just lovely!” you say, trying to convince yourself as you force your legs to move, propelling yourself towards the gate. “Let's head home.”

You assume Chrollo is following you, but you can't be sure. You can barely focus on anything, only propelling your legs forward, and ignoring the searing heat that is boiling in your blood, under your skin, in your gut. You feel like you're going to dissolve, melt into a puddle onto the ground. You can smell Chrollo behind you, a mix of citrus cologne and sweat, and a heavy musk that you can't place. You bite back a whimper, suppressing the urge to move closer to that scent, to curl into his body. You stumble a bit, quickly regaining your balance as you move out of the gate and back onto the street. Chrollo catches up, shooting you glances as he walks beside you.

“You sure you're alright, name?” he asks. The streets are empty at this time of night, but light streams down around you, from windows overhead to the pools of light below the street lamps. You no longer have any trouble walking, strowing confidently across the pavement, your hips swaying. You feel hungry.

“Oh, I'm doing just fine~” You sing-song, feeling a bit giddy with happiness. A singular man walks by and you have the sudden urge to chase after him, and make him kiss you. It's gone as soon as it has come, but it makes you snap out of your fearver, coming to a sudden stop on the concrete. 

“Ok wait, maybe something is wrong,” You say, bringing a hand up to your forehead. You feel no fever, but your hand shakes as you bring it away. Your body is still pulsing with heat, thrumming from your toes to the tips of your fingers and back down. And then the pain strikes. Blinding white pain running in tandem with the pleasure, mixing into a terrible cocktail of agony. You suppress a whimper, as your knees buckle, sending you tumbling towards the hard concrete.

Chrollo catches you before you can fall, reaching out to grip your waist, catching you a few feet from the ground. You bit back another whimper, this one threatening to rise from your throat as you feel his warm hand around your waist. You feel like crying.

“Name?” Chrollo says, gently bring his hand up to your chin and turn your face to look at him. “Can you tell me what's going on?

You whimper, unconsciously nuzzling into his hand as the burning pain recedes a bit to the edges of your body, and your consciousness returns slightly.

“I don't know,” You whimper, fully relaxing against him. He's the only thing between you and the cold hard concrete. “Why are you asking me like it's my fault?”

“Ok,” Chrollo says, grabbing your waist tightly and pulling the both of you to your feet. “Let's get you inside.”

“Mhm,” You murmur, nuzzling into his shoulder and breathing in his lovely scent. “Whatever you say.”

♱♱♱

The receptionist of the hotel sends him a scornful look as he walks up to the front desk, helping you walk.

It's a rather gaudy hotel, clearly a love hotel but it was the first one Chrollo spotted so it would have to do. It was better to get you into a hotel as soon as possible, you're clearly on some type of drugs.

The receptionist seems to agree, with the way she glares tiredly at him. 

“I switch jobs and it's always the same, huh.” She mutters, hitting the keys loudly. “Name, sir?”

“Benton,” Chrollo says, sliding the fake identification card across the counter. “This is my wife, Name Benton.”

“Uh huh,” The receptionist, Fumiko, sighs deeply through her teeth. “What kind of room do you want?” 

“Ah, I'll take the cheapest option please.” Chrollo says.

Fumiko raises an eyebrow, pinning him to the spot with her stare and letting silence fill the mostly empty lobby. Slowly, she slides her eyes to you, clearly drugged on his shoulder, and back to him. Chrollo feels more ashamed than he's ever felt before. 

“Cheapass,” Fumiko whispers, returning to the keyboard loudly. “Id?”

“Oh it–”

“Yeah,” Fumiko says, swiping it from the countertop. She looks at it for too long, holding it up to the light. Chrollo fears for a moment that she'll kick them out. He really doesn't want to find another love hotel, and you're getting more and more limp by the moment. Thankfully, she just sighs, going back to the computer with a sigh.

“Why do I even bother?” She mutters to herself, sliding the id back across the counter at him. “It's always worse, every time I ask. From barely legal to barely conscious…”

She continues muttering to herself, tapping away at the keys of the computer as Chrollo stands there, your body draped ungracefully against his side, breath coming in uneven little bursts. There's definitely something wrong with you.

“Cash or card?” Fumiko says. Chrollo slides the money over the counter. For some reason, he feels like this was the wrong move as Fumiko regards him with more suspicion as she hands over the room key.

“Enjoy your stay,” She bites out. 

“Thank you.” Chrollo says, moving towards the elevator of the pink and red lobby. He feels her hard stare on his back until the elevator doors close behind them. He hoists you up, cradling you in his arms for the second time tonight as your head lolls back, faint little pants exiting your mouth. Your eyes are hazy, your pretty curled hair tangling with his arms, hanging towards the ground in a waterfall of color. You look very pretty, but then again you always do.

It's a bit of a struggle to get you into the room, but he manages it, juggling you and the door as it shuts behind him with a solid heavy thud. He places you gently on the bed, sighing in relief and turning away to shed his own coat. When he turns around, you blink slowly at him. 

“Ah, you're awake?” he says, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. “How are you feeling?”

You dont reply, blinking slowly at him, eyes hazy. Chrollo feels a bit more worried. You're not really conscious, you’ve barely spoken full sentences since that man put his dirty hands all over your arms. He had assumed your lack of fighting had been to avoid a scene, but maybe it was something else. 

“Name, I need you to tell me what's wrong.” Chrollo begs you, more worry than strictly necessary leaking into his voice. Finally, your pink lips part.

“Hot,” You mutter, jumping to your fighting with the top of your dress. “Help me out of this.”

Chrollo obeys, turning you around and undoing the zipper of your black dress with a sigh. He ignores the swaths of skin on display from him, pointing his eyes strictly over your shoulder. You sigh, slipping out of your dress. Chrollo watches it pool below you on the floor, black slinky material sitting in a pile. You smile up at him for a moment, a twinkle of innocence in your hazy eyes, your hair sitting messily upon your shoulders, the straps of your bra tempting his eyes to look a little further. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asks instead, keeping his eyes strictly above your collarbones. You do have nice collarbones. He'd like to kiss them, if you would let him. You don't seem to like him much. Chrollo acknowledges that you must consider him boring, compared to the louder and more eccentric mission partner you were assigned. But he could be interesting. If you’d let him.  

“Mm,” You humm, turning away to crawl onto the bed. Chrollo's eyes take in your body as you crawl back, your ass on display for him to view. You're wearing matching black underwear. Heat runs through his body, and Chrollo feels his dick jump against his thigh. It's probably been too long. 

You’ve propped yourself up on your knees, your face pressed against the white bedsheets, your ass still high in the air, presented like a present. Chrollo is beginning to understand what exactly that man had slipped you. It must have been an Aphrodisiac of some sort. It's clear as you wind your hand down, and Chrollo watches you stroke your pussy through your panties. He clears his throat.

“What are you doing, Name?” He asks, undoing another button on his shirt. It's too hot here. 

“I feel so hot,” You whimper, and Chrollo watches as you push your panties aside, slipping a finger into yourself with a squelch. Chrollo bites his lip, hard. 

“Do you need my help?” He asks. You need to say yes. What will he do if you don't. He might lose his mind.

“Yeah,” You whimper, the white sheets stark against your pink lips. “Hurry.”

Chrollo moves embarrassingly fast, tossing his belt and shoes onto the floor with his jacket, and thrusting himself inside of you.

Your back arches, your toes curling in the white fabric as you clench deliciously around him. Chrollo bites back a groan, embarrassed of his eager behavior. He would have linked to work you up normally, maybe eat your pretty pussy. But that would have to wait for another day. And it seems you don't mind as you buck against him, urging him to move. 

“Ugh, you're big.” You whimper, hands knotting prettily in the white sheets. You look so pretty like this, turned on your back and grinning hazily up at him. He wonders how long this will last. He wonders if when you awaken tomorrow, you’ll regard him with the same cautious contempt you always do. 

Chrollo grips your waist with his hands, thrusting himself deep inside your clenching walls, setting a slow deep pace. You move with each thrust, pretty pink mouth letting out breathy pants and groans. If he's lucky, a pant of his name. The world around you is hazy, the gap of window shown by the curtains is fogged up, condensation and sweat muddling the world beyond. Your back arches, your body trembling as you grow closer to your orgasms.

“I'm close,” You whimper, muffled against the sheets. Chrollo presses his body against yours, pressing the two of you deep into the bed. You're laying flat now, your but reaching up to meet his short, deep thrusts. Your walls are clenching around him, driving him giddy.

Chrollo doesn't know how to feel. And so he focuses all of his energy on pleasing you. On watching the shudders and shivers of your shoulders, the clenching of your fingers, the gasping breaths spilling from your pink lips. He presses little kisses to your neck, leaving a pretty scatters of hickeys across your shoulders. The red spots make him swell with pride as you clench around him. 

“I'm cumming.” You groan, body tensing and walls suctioning him deep inside you. Chrollo obeys your body's command, thrusting himself deep inside of you one more time and letting himself go. Your moans are pretty as you come, and Chrollo muffles his own sounds in your shoulders, as stars the color of your eyes spill across his eyelids. 

He doesn't know what's going to happen after this. But at least for now, as he pulls himself out of you and curls up beside you, the world is content.

...

Endnotes: sry this ones kinda short i had a lot going on today lol

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 5.4k words]

Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things. You were just afraid.

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes.

Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

[MASTERLIST][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

TW: familial abuse, blood/ injury, torture, fantasy prejudice/ racism.

1: Strawberry Laces

He calls you Gibberish, because sometimes that's all you speak.

In first year, Ominis remembers crossing your path after the Sorting ceremony. You, a shaky little Muggle-born, near no knowledge of the magical world and its machinations, and the depths of its cruelty. You, who only enjoyed wonder in everything: every moving painting, the candles that floated untethered, and the way the air hummed with something else, something ethereal. He remembers hearing your distinctive voice in the foyer outside the Great Hall.

He remembers how you, somehow, managed to get lost.

Your upbeat curiosity pealed like a bell amongst the sombre tension of the first-year Slytherins. For some reason, your hair is what Ominis remembers best. Later he would find out it was thick, bouncy wild curls pinched into two pigtails at the side of your head, but the first thing he recalls is the smell, faintly of something saccharine.

"You're in the wrong place."

A pause, presumably as you realised he was addressing you. "Aren't we going to the form rooms?" you asked, that high-pitched voice like birdsong at dawn. It was hard to forget, given the nervous squeal you made when you were called up to be Sorted. It was already ingrained into his head.

"You're meant to be going to the Hufflepuff common room," he said, frowning. Form. What was a form? He pointed his wand at the Hufflepuffs heading the other way through the hall. "Your house is over that way."

"Oh!" You giggled, a sickly sweet noise, and headed over. "Thanks!"

How did you even get them mixed up? Ominis still doesn't know. He didn't think about you again until the next day, when term officially began Charms. By chance, he was seated next to you. That smell again, that voice.

"Have no fear, Master Gaunt," cheered Professor Ronen, "I will be giving you more practical assignments, so you don't have as much writing to do."

That was some consolation, he supposed. Practical assignments played to his best strengths.

When Ronen moved on to check Adelaide's technique, Ominis heard your chair squeak. Heard the hiss of your clothes as you peered over. Something rattled on your face – glasses.

"It's... Ominis, right?"

He pursed his lips, displeased at the interruption. "Can I help you?"

"You're an actual wizard?"

"... What?"

"I mean, you know, you were born into this magic thing."

A pure-blood, is what you meant. "Yes. What of it?"

"That's great, because I just wanted to know... erm... which way around does the wand go?"

That had to be a joke. "You can't be serious."

"S-Sorry, I swear I'm not pulling your leg." Pulling your leg? You laughed nervously. "It's just— my wand is a little crooked, and it doesn't have a handle, like yours— so I don't actually know if I'm holding it the right way up or not, and I don't want to blast myself in the face."

A wave of that saccharine soap again. Ominis wrinkled his nose and continued practicing Wingardium Leviosa. Swish and flick. "Can you really not tell?"

"No..."

You sounded genuine. Not joking.

Hmm. Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things.

You were just afraid.

"It's the tapered point that's the end."

"They're both thin."

"Let me feel it."

You hesitated. "Feel— it?"

"Well I can't look at it, can I?"

Another moment of hesitation. An intake of breath.

"Oh!" You nearly blew out his eardrums. "Sorry. You're blind!"

"Well spotted."

"I didn't notice."

"I figured."

You made an indignant noise and handed it over. His senses immediately flooded. It was an intimate sensation, to hold someone else's wand, especially that of a near-stranger. To feel the springy wood beneath his fingertips, the coarse grains of the wood. A light wood, airy. He was no expert on wands, and certainly no Ollivander, but he'd been touching and feeling things long enough to recognise details most sighted people would miss.

Yes, it was crooked, an odd shape for an odd person. He drew his thumb up the wand's janky spine.

"That's the top." He held the handle and offered it back to you. "There."

"Brilliant. Okay." You took the wand back. Cleared your throat. "Here goes then. Wingardium Leviosa!"

Something shifted beside him. A soft fabric drew up against his leg, raising higher and higher, past his head—

"Wait," Ominis spluttered, "is that my satchel?"

"It didn't— oh!" Panic fluttered through you. "No, no, no! Stop, wand! Un-Wingardium Leviosa! Erm, Spellus Stoppus?"

He didn't know how you did it, but even when he told you the right orientation, still you managed to point it the wrong way, the tip facing the bag by his chair, and Professor Ronen had to instruct you on the correct way by using chalk to mark the right end – after he got Ominis' bag down from the ceiling.

There are so many things he still doesn't understand about you.

Weeks into first year, when he'd learnt to adapt to your strange, Muggle quirks, your funny language and unwittingly explosive efforts in other classes, the two of you were doing homework on the lawn with Ominis' Slytherin dormmate, Sebastian Sallow. Sebastian thought you odd, too, but he had more exposure to Muggles than Ominis did – certainly more than the anti-Muggle disdain he received at home – and quickly warmed to your jolly attitude.

"It's strange. My dad hears all the confectionary chatter from America. Apparently this thing called peanut butter is making waves over there now." You grounded the sugar quill with your teeth – Ominis could hear it like a second heartbeat. "Doesn't that sound disgusting?"

"It does," marvelled Sebastian. "Butter and peanuts? What a strange combination."

"I know!" You rolled onto your back – and Ominis caught it again. Your scent. So intrinsically tied to you that every fresh wave made him feel comforted somehow. "You can't just put those two things together!"

"Your soap," Ominis blurted, and the conversation paused so abruptly that his cheeks heated. "What is it? It doesn't smell like anything I know."

"Oh, yes." Your voice was contemplative, sheepish as you pushed up your glasses. "I brought it from home. It reminds me of my family. Smells like our confectionary shop."

That didn't answer the question, and by his expression, you knew it.

"It's strawberry laces! You know? They're strawberry-flavoured, and they look like laces..."

"What in Merlin's name is a strawberry lace?"

"It's a type of candy! They're chewy and sweet!"

"Are they laces for your shoes?"

"No! That's just the shape of them."

Sebastian leant over crinkly parchment. "Do you mean red liquorice?"

"Yes!" You belted it so loud Ominis fell back. "Sorry! Sorry, yes. Red liquorice. That's its proper name."

"Then why didn't you call it red liquorice?"

"... Because it's strawberry laces. That's what we call them. It's my favourite treat."

"But that makes no sense! Why not just call it what it is?"

"Is it a Muggle thing?" Sebastian asked.

"No." A beat. "Maybe?"

Ominis scoffed. "You talk so much nonsense I can barely understand you sometimes."

You spat out your tongue. "Oh yeah, Ominis Gaunt? Mister, I Cast Whoopy-Doopy-Goopy to make your Thingimajig Ringadingdong?"

He spluttered, exasperated. "I don't sound like that! That's— that's just gibberish!"

"... Wait, is gibberish an actual language? Because goblins speak Gobbledegook, so..."

Sebastian howled with laughter. Your naivety was kind of adorable.

"The only one who speaks gibberish here," Ominis said, going back to his wandwork, "is you."

"Hmph!" You enunciated your indignation with such purpose. "Then maybe I'm fluent!"

And you were. You still are.

Neither Ominis nor Sebastian let you live it down, and the effects rippled throughout the first years. Sebastian's sister Anne found you adorably strange and joyfully brazen. Your Hufflepuff housemates enjoyed your humour and shenanigans. Even outside of your mismatched little groups, others in the the year, like Amit Thakkar and Garreth Weasley, thought you were a hoot, the silliest Muggle-born they'd ever met. Gibberish was your native language, and they all agreed. Soon everyone gave you the nickname. At one point it became Gibby. You pouted at each mention at first, but you grew fond of it eventually – then wearing it like a badge of honour. You adopted it, made it your own.

And even into second and third year, when the magical world became more familiar, you were Gibby.

Of course, you were never Gibby when Ominis wrote home. You were never anyone. It didn't take Ravenclaw wisdom to clock that his friendship with you was never considered proper. Pure-bloods, you learnt as quickly as he did, were the superior blood-status, and Muggle-borns the dregs left to rot at the bottom of the scummy barrel. That Mudblood was a slur of the lowest calibre. Ominis was shrewd enough to lie by omission in his letters back home, when his parents demanded to know about his friends and alliances. He simply never mentioned you at all, and all your adventures were given to Sebastian.

That didn't stop them from finding out.

"Who is she?"

Father had marched him to his study, made him sit. Even though a fire roared in the hearth, the place was cold, a slick tar against his skin. Even in the plushest chair, a high-back velvet with curling arms, he was the most uncomfortable he'd ever been. Even though he was blind, he could feel his parents' gaze like the tips of a thousand knives, pressed to the soft flesh of his throat.

"She's— no one."

"Don't lie to me," snapped his father. His mother was silent but complicit, by the way she paced from wood to carpet to wood again. "Edwin Malfoy said his son mentioned you frolicking around the school with some Hufflepuff. A Muggle-born."

There was no way he could deny it. Damn Peregrine Malfoy. They weren't in the same year group at school; why did he have to mention you at all? Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? It had been three years already – what was another four?

Ominis contemplated what to say, urging his fingers to still, his toes to flatten. He could not betray his fear, betray the sudden rising heartbeat, the clamminess of his palms, nor the pure, unadulterated dread that roiled through him.

"It's— it's just Gibby," he forced out as calmly as he could.

"Gibby?" shrilled his mother.

"Not her real name," Ominis said quickly. "It's actually—"

"But she's Muggle-born?" his father demanded.

"Yes, but—"

"Have we taught you nothing, boy? Muggles, and their filthy spawn, are weak. Muggle-born magic is diluted, and therefore they are not worthy to wield it."

His mother was sobbing in the corner, like this extended hand of friendship he'd given to you, this supposed error, was grievous enough to tear a hole through her heart.

"Our bloodline is sacred. We are descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin himself! When you choose to associate with these disgusting Mudbloods," he spat the word, "you are sending a message that these interlopers can take our land, our magic and our privileges. They can encroach on what is rightfully ours. Did you know they used to burn witches? Even though, in every way, we are superior to them?" His father drummed impatient fingers on the marble mantelpiece. Each clack sent more and more terrified shivers down Ominis' spine. "A good thing Noctua went missing. Spending too much time with her addled you. Now we must have a more formal hand in your education."

Ominis didn't know how to respond to that. How could they say that about Aunt Noctua? "What do you—?"

A knock at the door cut through his words – Ominis immediately recognised the knock's low timbre. His older brother. Marvolo. Panic rendered him paralysed.

"Come in," called his father.

Ominis heard his brother's footsteps. Heard the cruelty of his smile.

"Is it time, Father?"

"Yes. Take him downstairs."

Ominis didn't speak. There was no point. Marvolo, of all his older siblings, was the cruellest, an exact replica of their father who despised Muggles and Muggle-borns, despised Noctua, and revered the family name and the bloodline as divine, rather than simply blood and sinew and a surname. His grip on Ominis' shoulder was hard enough to draw blood, curled into the muscle like claws.

They all went downstairs, silent. Ominis had never been to this part of the house before – sometimes, when the moon was highest, when he stowed quietly to the kitchens for a midnight nibble, he heard screaming. At first he thought it his imagination, the night playing tricks on his keen senses.

When he descended into the cellar, he realised for the first time that it was not the night's whims having their fun. The dark, after all, had never been so wicked to him before.

The smell was the first thing that hit him. A strong, tangy scent, coppery and unpleasant. Blood. He couldn't help a sharp intake of breath, which only left the taste on his tongue. The chill was second, as bone-deep as a tundra. By the echo of breath, the ceiling was low and poorly lit, for his father cast a Fire charm at the braziers besides the doorway.

There was a ruffle of cotton. A low murmur. Marvolo's grip ceased, and he roughly shoved Ominis forwards.

"Do you know what's in front of you?"

Tremoring, Ominis reached for his wand. In the time he'd bought it at Ollivander's, it had become something special to him. A way to navigate the castle, yes, but it was much more than that. Almost sentient. It seemed to know how he was feeling and how to react to it, just as it did now, pulsing like a wild heartbeat beneath his fingertips. At eleven he'd been sceptical of the phrase 'the wand chooses the wizard', but now he believed there was truth in it. His wand had shown him that magic was in the air, all around him – all he had to do was draw on it.

He reached out, trying to fit together the scattered pieces of feedback. The ruffles and strangled breaths and scratch-scratch of rope. The cold, as sharp as the ice they used to keep fruit and meat fresh. The overwhelming smell of blood and dirt.

"Is—" He shouldn't have second-guessed himself, not with his family present, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing, smelling, tasting, what he was potentially beholding. "Is that a person trussed up?"

"You missed an important factor," said his father. "This is no person. This is mud."

A Muggle.

The Muggle whimpered. There was some gag around their mouth, and yet Ominis deciphered every note of fear.

"But this is dangerous!" He went to hide his wand, but Marvolo's hand stopped him. "You shouldn't have brought—"

"We can do what we want," Marvolo said. "We're Gaunts, little brother, and this scum before you requires humbling."

Ominis swallowed bile. Perhaps errantly, your voice hummed in his mind then. Your laugh. He imagined hearing it. Imagined it was you tied to the floor.

"No," he said at once. "I won't do it."

"The Cruciatus Curse has been used to subdue our enemies for centuries." Pride flowed through his brother's words. "You should be overjoyed to have this opportunity. Your siblings and I were thrilled with our first Muggles."

They've tortured innocent people before. All his brothers and sisters – they'd all done it.

"But— I can't hurt them. T-They've done nothing wrong to me. They're just—"

"They are worms beneath our boots, and their very existence is an abomination." Marvolo gave him a rough jerk. "I taught you how to use Crucio."

Yes, but Ominis swore it was only for self-defence.

When he didn't reply, Marvolo spoke, "So cast it now, on the Muggle."

Ominis shook his head. Fear and panic ran his mouth dry. "I can't."

"You will, or so help me, boy, you'll be a disgrace to the family," muttered his father. "Cast it."

"No."

"Cast. It."

"I won't."

Marvolo's laugh rang out. "I didn't realise your spine was made of cotton, Ominis."

But Ominis was made of steel in that moment, for he couldn't imagine a better reason to defy his family than for the sake of Muggles and Muggle-borns. For you.

"I won't cast it."

"Then you clearly need some encouragement." And before Ominis could even process what that meant, Marvolo yelled, "Crucio!"

It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pain, as he understood, was simply a reflex of the body to let the brain know something, somewhere, was wrong. A warning sign to cease whatever behaviour was causing it.

This was pain with no epicentre. There was no singular point that was bowing to the most pressure. This was all-encompassing and never-ending. This was his stomach and chest and heart, his brain and lungs, from the tips of his fingers to the knobs of his shoulders and knees and the ends of his toes. Every part of him, alight, doused in oil and set on fire through the concentrated rays of the sun.

Nowadays he doesn't remember that moment very clearly. The anguish was so great, he must've blacked out once or twice. Marvolo held it for a long time, longer than he needed to ingrain his foul teachings. All Ominis does remember is the pain, so acute that words fail to describe it, even to this day.

And the thought, back then, that his family could cause such pain, tore something inside him he would never be able to stitch back up.

When his brother released the curse, Ominis was curled up on the floor. Something wet lay beneath his cheek. Perhaps sweat. Perhaps spit. Perhaps blood, his own or the Muggle's. Perhaps even piss, for the curse had been too much for his bladder to handle. Every nerve ending on his skin was trembling. He'd let go of his wand somewhere in the room, and even now he couldn't sense it, like the pain had burned a hole where instead should be that bond.

"That is a Gaunt," said his father, pride sugaring his tone. "Your brother didn't hesitate."

Marvolo's voice was warm with mockery. "I have no qualms using the Cruciatus Curse on you, little brother, if it will teach you a valuable lesson."

What lesson could that possibly be? In the dizziness, Ominis couldn't untangle what the crucial moral was. It was a puzzle he couldn't solve, and perhaps never would.

"Would you like me to cast that on you again?"

"No!" Ominis managed to weep. He dribbled as he did, and shame burst through him. "N-No, please."

"Then get up," Marvolo hauled him to his feet, whether he was ready or not, "and cast it on someone who really deserves it."

Ominis is ashamed of the memory that follows. Sometimes he wishes he could alter it, pull it out of his mind like brittle thread and snap it into pieces, but then he wouldn't remember the valuable lesson he did learn that day. That his family were a cruel peoples.

And, as he raised his wand at his victim, that he was cruel now too.

"Crucio!"

Back near the end of third year, Ominis had found you climbing a tree on the school grounds. The wind was high and fretful – like his nerves, hearing you so far up, that carefree giggle carried on the current like bird's wings.

"Is that you, Gibby?"

"Ominis!" you chirruped. "You have to come up. The view is great!"

"I bet it's really swell."

"Sorry, sorry! I mean— oh, just come up! It's amazing, I promise!"

"You know you have a broom, right?" he called up, exasperated. "It's much safer than climbing trees! Where you could fall."

"I know! But this is all I've got back home, so I'd better get used—"

You let out a noise. The tree rumbled. There were four hard knocks that sent terror through him like lightning and a sudden thump on the ground like a knife to the gut. He rushed over to where you were crying out, breathless with pain. He'd never heard such a keening sound before, not in a physical, raw sense, where he could almost feel it himself. Pain that was almost too burdened to bear.

"Ugh, you're so foolish!" He nocked his wand skywards and sent out a flare. Hopefully someone would see it. "What have you hurt?"

You were in too much agony to reply – something had to be broken.

"I'm going to feel you, okay?"

You made a straggled noise he took for consent and pressed a hand to your arm. It came away wet. Blood. A broken and torn arm for certain then. You wheezed, too. Perhaps a broken rib. He pressed gently around, searching for the worst sources of pain through the leaf-ridden folds of your robes and shattered remnants of your glasses, but only when he reached forwards, felt the wetness around your upper lip and cheeks, did he realise you were choking from the blood of a broken nose.

He'd never felt a face before, not anyone outside his family. Yours was smaller than he'd expected. Your presence was so loud, so vivid, he'd expected you to match it physically as well. Even in the state that you were he could smell that sweet soap, and for some reason had the sudden urge to touch the rest of your face, explore how you were made, how the world shaped you.

"I'm going to staunch the bleeding." Instead he dispelled the thoughts and pointed his wand, enunciating as clearly as he could, "Episkey!"

A whip-like crack. You shrieked, but after a moment, your hysteria calmed, and he wiped the blood around your nose with his sleeve.

"I—" Tears filtered your winded voice. "I can't... move... my leg."

"It's probably broken too, like every other bone in your body," he retorted sharply. Good thing he'd had advance tutoring for healing spells. "I told you it was dangerous."

"I know," you bleated.

But his anger dissolved. There was no point rubbing it in your face. Whether he was right, or whether you had come down the tree perfectly well, you would've done it anyway.

"Can you last until someone comes to help?" he mumbled, lowering his tone.

"I can last."

"Good. I'll wait with you."

"Promise I... won't look into the light."

Ominis wrinkled his nose. "A sight joke now? Really?"

"No, no... it's a Muggle saying— never mind." A weighted pause. "Thank you."

He scoffed. "For being right?"

"Yes," you said softly, an admission. "But also... for being my friend."

Madam Blainey hurried over eventually and carted you away, cooing over your injuries, admonishing your actions, and Ominis stayed at your side until you drank every last acrid drop of healing potion, and you were fast asleep in the infirmary wards, at peace.

Even though you were silly, frivolous, an oddball who spoke fluent gibberish, he never wanted you to be in such pain again. He certainly couldn't imagine being the cause of it.

Which is why he swore on that day, after the Muggle had long since collapsed on the cellar floor, after his father and mother and brother delighted in his first successful cast of Crucio, that he would never again cause anyone such agony. Least of all you.

So in fourth year, he did his best to ignore you. To create a wide berth. And to find a way to escape his family.

He hung out more with Sebastian, even though his friend was slowly changing, ambitions growing. Both of them were equally matched in many things, like academics and opinions, and with Anne taking suddenly ill, trapped within the bindings of a unknown curse, Sebastian had his own demons about finding her a cure. They explored more outside – the countryside was huge, after all, and Ominis had always found the place intimidating for someone who couldn't see any of it. They lounged in the Undercroft more often – their own hiding spot to where they could escape the stress of school and home life and the increasingly pressing threat of a goblin rebellion. Mostly, Ominis went there to avoid you.

Sebastian quickly noticed you were missing from these adventures, though. Nothing much escaped his notice, even when his sister's illness consumed him – too shrewd to forget the giant girl-shaped gap in their homework brainstorming sessions, or learning questionable jinxes, or snacking on magical sweets. Ominis eventually confessed to what he'd had to do over summer – and what he would do to keep you safe.

"Very noble of you," Sebastian said, the wide, open walls of the Undercroft echoing his voice. "But you didn't have a choice."

"I did." Ominis shot at the dummy, again and again, to channel his frustration. "I chose to hurt that Muggle. I chose to cause them pain. And I couldn't have done it if I didn't want to."

"What else were you supposed to do then? Let your family hurt you again?"

"I should have! What I did to that Muggle... they're probably dead now..."

"Your family would've killed them regardless."

"That doesn't make it better!"

Sebastian yanked Ominis' shoulder, obliging him to stop, to listen. "You're being ridiculous. Your family forced you to hurt that Muggle. Now you're going to self-destruct an entire friendship because of them?"

Anguished panic stripped his insides raw, but he fought to contain it. "If they'll do that to some random person they found on the street, think what they'll do to her! My family isn't like yours, Sebastian. I can't risk Peregrine Malfoy telling on me. I won't."

Sebastian let out a singular, dark chuckle. "Don't you worry about Pretentious Perry. I'll sort him out." He exhaled, softening. "You ignoring Gibby isn't going to do anything but make you both upset. She's tenacious, and too loyal to us. She's just going to keep demanding an explanation until we give her one."

"Then she's going to be disappointed for a long time. Tell her whatever it takes to keep her away from me."

"You can't—" Sebastian let out a frustrated grunt. "You can't make me the mediator between you two."

Ominis turned back to the dummy. "I'm not asking you to. I don't care if you want to be her friend, but I won't. For her sake."

"Yeah? And what about yours?"

Ominis didn't have an answer for that.

He did manage to avoid you all autumn term. An excruciatingly difficult task, because teachers often paired the two of you together now – your chaos matching Ominis' order perfectly well. But he was cold to you, callous when you pried, outright mean when you demanded. You were as tenacious and loyal as Sebastian warned though. No matter what Ominis said, how rude he was, you never gave in.

Eventually the cold shoulder was all he could give emotionally. He was tired of drawing from the hatred that welled inside him, and turning it on you.

Over Christmas that year, Sebastian invited Ominis to stay with his family in Feldcroft, and Ominis agreed. So did the Gaunts, who knew the Sallows, albeit poor, to be a well-bred family, though perhaps less aware of Sebastian's more radical opinions on Muggles and Muggle-borns. It was good to see Anne, too – even sick, weak, body breaking down piece by piece by the curse, she was spirited and stubborn and filled the feminine void that was missing between him and Sebastian.

But she wasn't you. She could never replace you.

"Have you heard from Gibby?" she asked on one of her good days, when Solomon Sallow was mucking out the horses. She was tucked in bed still, wrapped in thick cloths and furs whilst the boys played Gobstones by the foot of her bed. "I miss her enthusiasm for Muggle sweets."

Before Ominis could speak, Sebastian declared, pouring on the smarminess, "They're not talking anymore."

"Oh?" Her curiosity was directed at Ominis. "Why?"

"We fell out," Ominis said through a clenched jaw, hoping his tone was enough to quiet Sebastian. "Nothing else to it."

"You and Gibby? Falling out? What did you do wrong?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Because Gibby would sooner stake her own heart than argue with you."

Neither twin pressed, so Ominis didn't answer. Later that week, however, her prodding questions changed to sympathetic disagreement, and he suspected Sebastian gave her enough information to infer his reasoning. Unfortunately, Anne's thoughts on the matter aligned with her brother's, and though she frequently tried to convince Ominis of this fact, most of the time he couldn't stand to listen to it, and he simply walked out of the house.

She would never understand his decision. They did not have his family.

When Ominis returned to Hogwarts for the spring term, however, knowing Anne was partly right about leaving you in this middling state, he resolved no longer to hide behind feeble excuses. Sebastian was slowly seeking solace in the Dark Arts, something Ominis rejected vehemently, but even then there was safety with Sebastian's status that there never was for you.

He had to protect you by any means necessary. That meant it was time to end the friendship for good.

So it wasn't surprising when, on the first day back, he entered the Undercroft and found you standing there.

"Colloportus!"

The lock behind him clicked, the grille sealing shut. This infuriated him to no end – four years and your naivety still preceded you.

"You know I can cast Alohomora—?"

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew from his grasp, clattering somewhere to his left.

"That was excessive."

"Was it?" you challenged, coming up to him. Strawberry laces. "You've had the whole of Christmas to think about what a meater you've been, and I'm not going to let you start the silent treatment again."

Meater. Context was a useful thing at filling in Muggle-vocabulary-shaped gaps.

"How did you find this place?" he asked.

"I followed you, last term, when you were not talking to me."

"Why don't, for once, Gibby," he snarled, "you mind your own business?"

"You are my business!" you yelled – and there it was, the first inkling of pain. "Last year you were my best friend. You and Sebastian, and Anne too. Now she's sick and I haven't seen her in months, you refuse to talk to me and Sebastian won't tell me why!"

Ominis pushed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Sebastian had done a terrible job at warding you away. Yes, you had spent more time with other people in your year, like Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur, and Garreth, Leander and Cressida and even the new girl, Natsai Onai. But still you crawled back to him.

"Like I said, it's not your business."

"I'm not accepting that answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

"Is it me?" you flung out. "Did I say something wrong? Did you get fed up with me copying your homework? Or showing Natty around? I know you pretend to despise everyone in that house. Or maybe it's personal? Have I been annoying? Do I smell bad?"

You never smell bad. He opened his hand. "Give my wand back, Gibby."

To your credit, when he asked for the thing that helped him make sense of the world, you retrieved it, no resistance, and placed it into his waiting palm. The brief touch sent a pleasant, unwanted current tingling through his skin.

"Is it family?"

Ominis snatched his hand away. "No."

"It is. It must be. You stayed at Feldcroft all Christmas." You softened. "You know you can tell me anything—"

"Butt out, Gibby."

"Ominis—"

"No. Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once. I'm tired of picking up the pieces after you. I'm tired of your clumsiness and your stupidity. I'm tired of holding your hand and coddling you. This world is cruel, and since you haven't learnt it yet, maybe you will now. You don't need me, and I certainly don't need you. So leave me alone." Then the word slipped out, unbidden. "Mudblood."

Your gasp was drawn out, a long inhale that sucked all the light over an arid horizon. Ominis immediately regretted it. He'd caused that Muggle physical pain, he'd been a silent bystander as you fell off that tree in third year, but emotional pain, the crossing of a line that could never be turned back upon, the shattering of your heart into pieces no spell could mend... that was worse than any Cruciatus Curse.

"T-Take that back," you demanded, holding back a sob. "Y-You take that b-back, right now!"

He didn't. All he did was turn around and cast the Unlocking charm. The grille lifted.

You sniffled. Tears splattered onto the stone. In that moment, your sweetness had been stolen, your brightness dimmed. All because of him.

"You're a beast, Ominis Gaunt," you yelled as the lift churned into motion. "I wish I'd never met you!"

And he left you there, knowing you were right.

[MASTERLIST][NEXT] [Amazing art by Giselann, Divider credit]

[ceesimz]

Relationship Test

(this isn't gonna be the most description-heavy fic, it's mostly dialogue but I wanted to write this because I think the dynamic of 'gf asking stupid questions to annoy their partner' is really entertaining)

Realistically, Leah should have known from the moment the following question came out of your mouth that you were about to enter an incredibly annoying phase.

"Leah, if I was any supermarket, out of all the ones in the UK, which one would I be?"

She simply turned her head to look at you, completely thrown off by the question. A few moments passed by of her trying to suss you out, figuring out what on earth she should reply to that, before she paused the show you were both watching and took a deep breath.

"Is this a joke or is that a genuine question babe?" She finally replied.

You shrugged a shoulder, fighting off a grin, and looked expectantly at her.

"A genuine question."

Leah once again just stared at you. Where to even begin? Surely, there was no right answer here.

"What one do you think you would be?" She deflected the question, but you just shook your head.

"Good try, but I asked you."

She groaned and threw her head back.

"My love, I have absolutely no idea! I don't look at you and think, 'ah yeah, you are an Aldi', I don't know what you're trying to get at!" She cried out, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly.

"An Aldi?" You gasped, dramatically feigning offence, even going so far as bringing a hand to your chest to give the full effect. "Leah, that's fucking low!"

"No, I didn't call you an Aldi, babe, I just used it as an example because it's a weird question to ask!"

"Yeah but that was the first one that came to your head! An Aldi, really? Unbelievable. I thought you would have valued me higher than that. Maybe a Tesco at least, but nooo, my girlfriend thinks I'm an Aldi." You sighed and refused to meet her gaze, turning to the paused TV screen and smiling to yourself as you heard her take a deep breath.

"Darling, you are a woman, not a supermarket. I value you higher than I value you myself, okay? It was just a silly question, let's not think too deeply about it." You shook your head once more and stood up from your place on the sofa, storming out the room. "No, babe, where are you going?"

Before you rounded the corner of the lounge, you sent her a cheeky grin and laughed.

"Just the toilet, Le, don't worry." You stated simply, then walked out.

That left the blonde sat stressing to herself whilst also being utterly perplexed at what had just occurred. When you walked back in a few moments later, she still looked visibly shell-shocked, which you couldn't help but giggle at.

"Earth to my girlfriend?" You teased, slotting yourself onto her lap and knocking on her forehead with a knuckle.

"You are something else, I swear." She sighed, a humoured smile on her face as she placed a kiss on your cheek.

Leah survived all of two days before the next one was fired her way, this time, on the drive home from Arsenal training. The pair of you were exhausted, having had a match the day before then being thrown into early morning training the next day. But that didn't stop you from exercising your newfound love.

"Hey Le?" You start, Leah humming. "If I died, would you fall in love again with another person?"

Leah's eyes almost popped out of their sockets at that one. She was still driving, so she couldn't even take a glance at you as she navigated through the London traffic.

"Sorry?" She choked out, sitting up in her seat.

"Would you move on and find another person after me?"

"Is this... a test?" Leah wondered, and it's so hard not to laugh at the hint of nerves clear in her voice.

"I'm just curious." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I... well, that's a bit of a loaded question, babe." She breathed out, eyebrows furrowed down as she's overridden with countless thoughts. "I mean, first of all I'd be fucking devastated, my love."

"Not what I asked." You told her, to which she panicked more.

"I..." She stuttered over an answer. "I don't know, it would depend I guess?"

"Are you serious?" You begin to argue, Leah wincing and slouching her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"I have no clue, babe! Sorry for not giving a valid answer, because I don't want to think about you dying!"

"Chill, Le, I'm just teasing you." She dropped her head back against the head rest and groans.

"You are gonna be the death of me." Leah grumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

"But seriously though, would you?"

"I swear to f-"

That last one was indeed a bit loaded, so you gave her a week's respite before the next one came. This time? In the cinema, as the adverts played before your chosen film.

"Love?" You whispered, nudging her arm that held her phone. She put it down on the arm rest and turned to you with a soft smile. "I've had a thought that's been plaguing me a bit recently."

"You wanna talk about it here?" Leah frowned, gently taking your hand as you nod. "Okay, my darling, out with it."

"Do you prefer my face or my body?"

Leah stared at you for a solid ten seconds before her body deflated and she dropped your hand. She chuckled to herself and pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath.

"This is another one of those questions, innit." She sighed, turning to you to get confirmation. However, you offered no emotion or reaction. "Tell me, for this one, if this is a genuine... insecurity I need to tackle properly, or if this is another bullshit question."

"I want to know, Leah." You stated. She still couldn't tell if you were serious.

"I prefer your face, my love." She replied truthfully, because that was genuinely her answer.

"Why?" You challenged, still void of emotion.

"Because... that's what I fell in love with first. Your eyes and all the emotions you hold in them, not to mention how beautiful they are. Your smile that immediately makes me smile no matter what I'm going through. Your little freckles, your nose, your eyelashes that I'm still jealous of to this day. Your face was the first impression I got of you, my first glimpse getting to know you. So if you held me at gunpoint and told me to choose, I would say your face. Your body is absolutely beautiful and incredible of course, but you could have no arms and eleven toes and I'm almost certain I'd still love you." Leah answered.

To be honest, that is definitely not what you were expecting. You didn't think a stupid question found in a Tik Tok video captioned 'Questions To Start An Argument' could lead to such a heartfelt admission.

"Oh." Was all you said. "I was supposed to argue back at you."

"What?" She laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek.

"I was supposed to argue and say 'so you don't like this or that about my body' but you kind of took my breath away." You explained with a sheepish smile on your face.

"My love, you know I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, both your face and your body, but if I could only have one forever, it would be your face. Zero hesitation." Leah admitted. You blushed heavily and hid your face in her neck. "Not to say I wouldn't miss your body. You would miss it too, I know you love when I-"

"Nope!" You slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "Just because we are in the back row of a cinema does not mean you can start saying things like that."

Leah smirked behind your hand and shrugged a shoulder.

"Your loss, baby."

The next one came when you lay awake in bed with Leah one morning a few days later. You were both lay on your stomachs, your hand gliding over Leah's back under her shirt as you gave her the back scratches she demanded with the promise of paying for breakfast in return. Admittedly, you were more of a morning person than Leah was, hence why the following question came to your mind at 8am whilst she could barely think. Was it possibly a bit unfair to ask such a layered question at a time you knew her mind wasn't as sharp as it could be? Absolutely not.

"Leah, could we discuss a hypothetical situation for a moment?" You asked. She opened one eye and looke at you with a face of disgust.

"Too early." She grumbled, closing her eye again and sighing.

"Okay." You left it for a few moments, before asking anyway. "If someone offered you money to go completely non-contact with me for three months, what's the lowest amount of money you'd accept it for?"

"What?" Leah glared at you, resting up on her elbows as she pushed her hair back out of her face. You went to repeat the question, but she shook her head and interrupted you. "I heard you. I mean, what the fuck kind of question is that?"

"Just curious." You shrugged, shifting to lay on your back and look up at her.

"I wouldn't do that." She said, plain and simple.

"It's only three months. What if it was for like, a million? That's three months of doing nothing for a ton of money, babe. That's a life-changing amount of money." You commented with a grin.

"Would you accept that?" She asked, outraged.

"Of course!" You answered immediately. Leah shook her head and threw the duvet off of her, jumping out of bed. "Come ooooon! You'd accept that too, surely?"

"You are a fucking wind-up." She grumbled, stepping into her slippers and leaving the room.

You stayed in bed with an amused smile, settling back down and wrapping yourself up with the duvet, until a voice came from the other room.

"I'd do it for free if you keep up with these stupid questions!"

At that, you jumped out of bed and ran to meet her in the kitchen, an endless amount of colourful expletives leaving your mouth on the way there.

A busy few weeks followed that morning, so your habit took a backseat to focus on an intense set of games. It slipped your mind completely, until one night when some of the Arsenal girls were around at Leah's apartment, waiting to watch one of the men's champions league games. When a multitude of irritated groans echoed around the lounge at the announcement of the game being postponed for a short while, you grinned to yourself from your place on the sofa beside Leah.

"Girls, I know how to keep us entertained in the meantime." You announced.

"We can't do karaoke again, last time I almost got kicked out of the flat." Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow in warning.

She was referring to an incident that occurred a few months back - a team bonding evening where you, Leah, and the majority of your teammates had a movie night that led to an intense karaoke session. Consequently, a few of the neighbouring apartments reported such event to the building's security team which resulted in a knock at Leah's door and a noise complaint letter being handed to her.

"Not karaoke, babe. Something better." You wiggled your eyebrows at the other girls and stood up from your seat. "Le, come on, help me get two stools from the kitchen."

"What are you planning?" She asked in a hushed tone as you led her to the kitchen.

"You'll see." You shrugged with a smirk, picking up one of the chairs and gesturing for Leah to do the same. Then, you wandered back to the lounge and placed your stool down in front of the TV, Leah doing the same. "Leah, take a seat."

Some of the girls whispered between themselves at the scene carrying out in front of them, getting a great view of what was about to occur.

"Babe, I swear-"

"Sit down, Leah Williamson!" You demanded, grabbing your phone from the couch.

"Oo, government name!" Beth teased, Leah glaring at her and doing as she was told.

You sat there in silence for a brief moment, trying to find the list on your phone that had been neglected for a little while. Once you'd found it, you looked at Leah across from you in her chair and cleared your throat.

"Leah, this is a relationship test." You stated.

Leah's face fell as the girls laughed loudly at her reaction, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish whilst she tried to find a response.

"Right now?" She replied, you nodding with a smug grin.

"Yep. I have a series of questions for you that you must answer. No cop-outs, no deflections, just the truth."

"This is gonna be good." Jen smirked, knowing what was about to occur. It had been her that sent you the video about it in the first place, little did she know she had planted such an entertaining seed in your mind.

"Ready?" You asked with an excited smile.

"No, I never agreed to this!" Leah cried out, looking helplessly at her teammates who simply laughed again.

"Suck it up, Leah!" Steph shouted, Beth grinning manically from beside her.

"First question!" You announced, the room falling quiet. "What is your biggest fear?"

"That's not a relationship question!" Kyra exclaimed, earning a smack on the knee from Caitlin.

"I don't know, dying?" Leah replied with a shrug.

"Wrong!" You respond.

"How's that wrong, it's my fear?!" She cried.

"The correct answer was: losing me." You revealed, the room bursting into laughter. You couldn't help yourself and joined in too as Leah groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"I know what this is gonna be now." She grumbled, looking back at you and waiting for the next question.

"Next question." You said, silencing the room. "If a genie offered you three wishes, but if you accepted them, there was a ten percent chance you lost me forever, would you take them?"

"Yeah because I would use a wish to get you back." Leah said with a shrug, thinking she had caught you out.

"Wrong. That's not possible." You shook your head shamefully at her.

"And how was I supposed to know that then?" She hit back, but you shrugged back at her.

"Not my problem." You stated as the girls laughed at Leah's eye roll. "Next. Would you rather never play football again or never have sex with me again?"

That one almost knocked Leah off her seat.

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Her cheeks were bright red as she argued, completely at a loss for words right now.

How had a quiet night watching the football, turned into her being the butt of the joke?

"You have to answer it, love." You lowered your phone and fixed her with a pressuring glare, everyone else in the room looking at her expectantly as they held in their laughter.

"Babe, I..." She stuttered, glancing around at her peers with a frantic look in her eyes.

"You're gonna be in the doghouse, Leah." Katie kindly reminded her, followed by a few muffled laughs from some of them.

"Never play football again." Leah answered in a nervous voice.

"Wrong!" You sighed, shaking your head.

"How is that- I can't fucking win." She groaned frustratedly and clenched her fists as everyone else once again laughed uncontrollably. "Please explain how that answer is wrong, my love."

"You shouldn't let your attraction to me override your career, my darling!" You told her with a dramatic pout. She couldn't help but chuckle at your reply, now starting to see the humour in this situation.

"Aren't you guys romantic." Beth rolled her eyes and waved you both off. "Move on, next question."

"Alright." You cleared your voice again, choosing your next blow. "If you learned that I had been hired to date you as part of a social experiment for research, would you be able to forgive me?"

"What the fuck!"

You couldn't help it anymore. You burst out laughing along with your friends and covered your face as you did, hearing Leah rant in the background of all the noise. A few moments passed of pure laughter before you sat back up straight and looked at your girlfriend who, if she was in a cartoon, would have literal steam coming out of her ears.

"Your answer, please." You asked impatiently, tapping your foot on the floor.

"Dating you is a social experiment, this is absurd, I mean-"

"Moving on." You ignored her rebuttal. "Would you rather kiss me for £100,000 or the prettiest woman in the world for a million?"

Leah took a deep breath, removing all previous irritation in her bones, before answering confidently.

"Prettiest woman in the world for a million." She stated, waiting for you to correct her.

"Wrong, how fucking rude. Why would you not kiss me?" You challenged with an angry scowl.

"Because you are the prettiest woman in the world." Leah stated simply with a soft smile, causing you to blush. The room was silent for a moment as you both gazed at each other, before the sound of someone jokingly gagging disrupted it.

"Get a room!" Kyra shouted, throwing one of the sofa pillows at you both. Everyone else followed her lead and started teasing you both, but Leah simply smirked and stood up.

"Get a room, you say? Alright."

She shrugged before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards her bedroom. The sounds of the others wolf-whistling and cheering followed you until it was shut out by Leah slamming the bedroom door closed.

"You done testing me now?" She asked with her eyebrows raised, pressing you back against the door and holding you in place by your hips.

"Guess so." You smiled uncontrollably at her, to which she laughed and let out a breath before hiding her face in your neck.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" She said, muffled by your skin.

"I know it, babe. You love me for it." You grinned. Leah lifted her back up and leaned down to press your lips together in a firm but teasing kiss, pulling back sooner than you wanted.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't, right?"

[angeldiarybook]

𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐭𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary:Billy and stu aren’t friends anymore due to Billy getting with you after you and Stu broke up what happens when Stu catches you crying because of Billy at a party

“Billy?” I said out loud asking where Billy was

“Hey have you guys seen Billy?” I asked a random girl

“Ughh I’m sure he went to get some keg and some beer” she said

“Oh ok” I said before walking away

I plopped myself down on the couch next to Tatum and Randy

“Hey what’s up with the long face” Randy asked me as he was looking through Jamie Lee Curtis movies

“Nothing…just Billy” I said a bit irritated

“Uh-oh what leather face do this time?” Randy asked snarkly

“Nothing he’s just been distance with me lately and I’m not sure if I did anything wrong to upset him”I said in a low voice

“Most likely nothing.don’t think too much of it.Billy is just…Billy you know” Tatum said trying her best not to say shit about Billy

“Do you guys think Billy will break up with me like how Stu did..?” I asked nervously

“If billy breaks up with you he’s much more stupid than Stu’s dumbass” Tatum said

Right when she said that we hear hysterical laughing

We break our necks to see Stu laughing his ass off with some random chicks

Tatum scoffs as Randy shakes his head

I stared at Stu as his stupid long tongue stuck out as he laughed

“Swear wish he had a mute button” Randy said which caused me to giggle

At times I wish things were different

I miss Stu’s jokes and his goofiness

I wish he didn’t leave me so easily as if was nothing

He would constantly be way too flirty with girls so I guess I didn’t miss that so much

But I also guess Billy isn’t perfect

It’s not like I am either

those boys just have problems

I wonder how Stu felt after me and Billy got together

I’m guessing not happy since they’re not friends anymore

It’s still crazy to me that they’re not friends anymore over me?

I quickly break out of my thoughts

As I see Billy walk through the front door with a pack of beer that he harshly tosses to a random dude

“Damn what’s up his ass?” Tatum asked

I shrug

“I should probably go check up on him..” I said

As Randy made ‘Are you sure face you want to do that’ face

I groaned as I got up from the couch walking towards The stairs as Billy made his way up there

Billy banged on the bathroom door

“We’re busy!” Some squeaky female voice said

“Well hurry the hell up!” Billy said very aggressively which caused the girl on the other side of the door to become silent and not respond as whoever she was with groaned

I non-purposely sneaked up behind Billy grabbing his shoulder which caused him to almost shove me

“There you are I’ve been looking for you all night” I said with a soft smile and soft voice

Billy let out a sigh “it’s just you” he said relief

He banged on the door one more time

“Screw it” he said

As he started walking away

“Woah gloomy you ok?” I asked teasingly but still trying not to piss him off

As we entered a bedroom

“Just tired of people” billy said grumbling

“…including me..?” I asked in a quiet voice

“What?” Billy asked in a harsh tone confused

“…it’s just you’ve been cold and distance to me..did I do something to make you mad?” I asked confused

“Just because I’m mad doesn’t automatically mean it’s because of you stop overthinking” he said in a harsh tone which bothered me

“Well obviously something is bothering you I’m just try to help you come on tell me..what’s wrong..?” I said caressing the palm of his hand trying to comfort him

“It’s nothing” he said scoffing

“Well clearly it is” I said getting annoyed

“Just drop it ___” Billy said rudely

“No!tell me what’s wrong!?” I said getting worried

“___,stop!Just Stop!I did not tell you to follow me or to ask me what’s wrong you came on your own!” He yelled at me

“I-“ I tried to speak but my voice was breaking

“I don’t understand what I did wrong..” I said as my voice trembled as tears flooded my eyes

He made me so sensitive

I quickly made my way out the door

[Billy sighed regretting lashing out on you for no reason “You didn’t do anything wrong” he said mostly to himself since you were already gone]

I quickly tried to make my way down the stairs

“Excuse me.sorry” I said accidentally bumping into some people

As I made my way down the stairs I accidentally bumped into someone who was laughing I couldn’t quiet see due to the tears clouding my eyes

it was Stu

His whole demeanor changed as he saw that I was crying

“___? Are you ok?”

Stu asked concerned as his tall figured hovered over me

It surprised me since he’s never serious or concerned it also surprised me that he cared if I was okay or not considering we weren’t on speaking terms or good terms since we broke up

“Yes-no I don’t know” I stuttered as I wiped my tears

“What’s wrong what happened?” Stu asked me concerned once more with furrowed eyebrows as he grabbed my shoulder gently

Suddenly Billy came out of no where up behind us

Stu put one and one together realizing I was crying because of Billy

“Figures” billy said in a rude sarcastic demeanor towards Stu looking dead at him

Before walking away from me and Stu

I looked at billy with Sorrow eyes as he walked away

Suddenly Stu looked back at me then at Billy

And started making his way angrily towards Billy

“Stu!wait no!” I said quickly going after them

Stu grabbed Billy’s shoulder turning him towards him and punching him straight in the face causing Billy to fall straight into a dude holding a beer bottle making it spill every where

“FIGHT!” Some random screamed

As people started shouting

Billy quickly turned back groaning as he grabbed Stu punching him in his jaw

Stu quickly grabbed Billy throwing him as they somehow managed to make it to the next room

Stu was above Billy throwing punches at them

“GUYS!” I yelled as they ignored me

they got shoved into Tatum causing also her drink in her red solo cup to spill “stop fighting you idiots!” Tatum yelled angrily

Billy managed to tackle Stu as they continued throwing hits

“So umm do you like horror movies?” Randy asked a hot chick poorly trying to flirt with her

“Ehh” she replied shrugging

Out of nowhere Billy and Stu crash into Randy causing him to fall on top the girl hovering her

“Get off of me you geek!” She screeched as Randy body was crushing her

“I’m trying!” Randy exclaimed trying not to crush her body even more

“Break it up!” The party host yelled trying to break up the fight but ended getting pushed aggressively to the side by Billy

The host body almost hit Sidney but she quickly got out the way before his body could hit her

As they fought their body’s hit furniture causing the furniture to fall and break

Billy punched Stu really hard in the jaw as Stu pounced Billy’s head

Suddenly they somehow made it out the front door

As everyone ran outside

Billy and Stu were now fighting on the front lawn

“Guys Just stop!” I yelled since they already caused so much damage

I groaned rolling my eyes as they once more ignored me

Out of nowhere there were police sirens which made them stop

“Aww man cops” some dude said

Which caused them to break apart

They stood a good distance from each other

As they were breathing heavily and stared at each other like they were going to kill each other

I just stared at them with disbelief

As billy looked at me with no emotion before walking away

Dewey got out the cop car

“Alright drop your cups and go home kids” Dewey said

“Great could this night get any better” Tatum said irritated before grabbing my hand making me walk away with her from the so called party

@vzp1kl

[crowsofdarkness]

Arranged: Chapter Thirteen

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

Tags: @sakuracyberhex

The music continued to play throughout our room and the rain had settled as Bucky and I laid in bed together, sheets covering our naked forms. My head was buried deep into the pillow, wishing sleep would overtake, and Bucky was propped up on his elbow, vibranium fingers grazing over my bare back. He looked down at me, adoration in his blue iris’ and I gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Tired?” He questioned. 

I nodded. “I wish we could stay here the rest of the night.” 

Bucky placed a kiss on my spine. “Me too, doll. But we have to show up tonight.” 

“This is stupid,” I groaned while snuggling deeper into his chest. 

The hairs that peppered across it tickled my cheek and I felt Bucky’s lips ghost along my hairline. His scent engulfed my senses and I smiled at the familiarity that it started to bring. 

Even after our afternoon in bed together, Bucky still smelled like he had just emerged from the shower; a strong smell of fire embers and a very small hint of vanilla. 

“I can’t remember the last time I spent the day relaxing. I haven’t even taken one phone call,” Bucky chuckled. 

I leaned up and placed a kiss onto his chin. “You needed it. You’ve been working every day since I first got here.” 

“Maybe we could take a vacation once everything settles down with work and your parents' case?” Bucky suggested. 

“I would like that. I’ve always wanted to visit the pacific northwest,” I admitted. 

Bucky shook his head with a laugh. “I have my own private jet and can take you anywhere in the world and you want to go there?” 

I nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had plans to move there after high school but life got busy and before I knew it, ten years later I still haven’t left the state.” 

Bucky pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Wherever you want to go, doll. I’ll take you.” 

I wrapped my arms around him, the heat from his skin warming mine immediately. 

“I think I’ve learned more about you today than in the three weeks since you’ve been here,” Bucky observed. 

“Usually you do get to know each other before you get married,” I joked with a wink. 

“Oh, is that right?” Bucky raised a brow at me. 

He had rolled on top of me and began leaving quick pecks all over my face, causing a school girl giggle to fall from my lips. 

This whole day was perfect. It didn’t feel like Bucky and I were married only for a few weeks. It felt as if we had known each other for years with how comfortable I found myself becoming around him. There was a moment earlier today where I looked at him and for a brief second, I forgot that he was a mob boss, feared by many. Then the reality set in when someone from his laboratory called, which Bucky quickly ignored. 

A knock at the door halted Bucky’s kisses and my giggles, him remaining on top of me still. 

“Is this important?!” He yelled to whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Are ya decent in there?” 

Steve. 

Bucky quickly tossed me one of his shirts and a pair of underwear. I quickly got dressed while he slipped into a pair of sweatpants. 

“Come in!” He yelled. 

I was back under the covers, hoping that Steve was here to tell us that the party was canceled so we could stay home. 

A quick glance between the two of us, Steve merely smirked for a moment, with a raised brow. “Easy afternoon, huh?” 

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky responded. 

“Make me, jerk,” Steve said with a snort. 

I smiled at the banter between the two childhood friends and lounged deeper into the bed. 

“Did you need something, Steve or were you trying to sneak a peek?” I jeered. 

There was a faint blush to his cheeks but it was gone in a flash before looking at Bucky with a serious gaze. 

“There was a problem at the lab. Jason.” 

Bucky cursed while shaking his head. “This kid is going to fucking kill me.” 

He stood and went to walk into our closet but I grasped his hand. “What happened to no work today?” 

Bucky sighed with a disappointed look in his eye. “I’m sorry, doll. This can’t wait.” 

“Promise to be back before we have to go?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “I’ll try. I’ll call you if anything changes.” 

With a quick kiss to my cheek, I watched Bucky disappear into the closet to get dressed. I looked at Steve and raised a brow. 

“No chance you’ll let me tag along, huh?” I suggested. 

Steve gave a small smile. “Not this time, Y/N.” 

His smile, however, did nothing to ease my worries as I saw Bucky open up the safe in the closet and placed a gun that he grabbed into the waistline of his dress pants. 

I gave my driver a quick smile of thanks before shutting the door behind me, eyes glancing up towards the mansion in front of me. Bucky’s mansion was big but Starks was a tad bit bigger. 

With another quick look at my phone, I sighed with disappointment from no new message from Bucky. He had been gone for hours, meaning I had to come to this party by myself where I wouldn’t know anyone. Not the ideal way I wanted to spend the night. 

My mind kept thinking of what Bucky was doing and why he felt like he needed to bring a gun with him. For all I knew, he could have been carrying one on him everytime he went out and didn’t notice. 

Where are you?

My fingers hastily typed into the phone and walked into the house, silently hoping he was already here. The place was filled with people dancing, drinking, or socializing and I could feel my anxiety weigh me down. 

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” 

I spun on my heels and felt all of my worries vanish the second Bucky’s eyes met  mine. A large breath fell from my lips. 

“Hi, you clean up pretty well yourself.” I winked and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Bucky questioned while allowing me to wrap my arm with his. 

“No, I just got here. How’d everything go at the lab?” 

He simply gave my hand a squeeze. “Everything’s fine.” 

As much as I would have liked to bring up the fact that he brought a gun along with him earlier, I kept my lips shut knowing that now wasn’t the best place to have that conversation. Bucky led me towards the bar where we ordered a few drinks and I used that time to gaze around the room. I saw Sam standing in one corner and Steve on another, their own gazes taking in every inch of the room. 

“I’m assuming they’re not here for pleasure?” I asked Bucky. 

He nodded after taking a drink. “Something’s not right about this gala. Why would Stark throw this for us when we barely know one another?” 

“I thought he’s interested in whatever your lab is creating?” 

Bucky snickered. “The only thing Stark is interested in is money.” 

The two of us stayed at our post at the bar, his vibranium hand glued to my lower back in a safety sort of way. Whatever worried him about tonight made Bucky on edge, even more so than he usually was. But that didn’t stop him from whispering promises of what he had planned for us once we were home. My cheeks flushed with red while my stomach flipped, the butterflies fluttering to life. 

“Mr. Barnes?” 

Bucky reluctantly pulled his mouth away from the small mark he was leaving on the crook of my neck and nodded towards a petite redhead who snuck up behind us. 

“Natasha,” he gave her a small smile. 

“You two know each other?” I pointed between the two of them. 

“She works for Tony,” Bucky informed, hand still attached to my lower back. 

Natasha tsked. “Are you sure that’s the only reason why we know each other?” 

Jealousy stabbed at my heart the way that Natasha had said that, hinting that they knew each other more than Bucky had led on. My eyes fell and I began stirring the ice in my cup, suddenly feeling out of place next to the two of them. 

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked, lips grazing my ear. 

I shivered at the feeling. 

“Yeah.” I nodded. 

Natasha sighed while clicking her heels on the marble floor below. “Mr. Stark is waiting for you.”

Bucky sighed but evidently nodded. He quickly waved Steve and Sam over. 

“Steve, stay with Y/N. Sam, you’re with me,” he gave the two men their orders. 

Steve was fast to my side as Bucky left a kiss upon my lips. It wasn’t a quick one, either. It was the kind of kiss where your tongues found each other right away and made your head spin with how much passion was put behind it. 

“I won’t be long, doll.” 

My eyes fluttered open and I nodded, watching him walk through a door that was behind the bar, his eyes never leaving me even if Natasha had been leading him through. 

“I take it as things are going well between the two of you?” 

I gave Steve a smile. “Yeah. I didn’t want to admit it at first but maybe this arranged marriage wasn’t as bad as I thought.” 

Steve matched my smile as he leaned against the bar. 

“Can I ask you something?” I questioned him. 

When he nodded, I continued with a deep breath. “Anything going on between Bucky and Natasha? He claims that he only knows her from working with Stark but the feeling in my gut tells me otherwise.” 

Steve hesitated, scratching at the beard on his chin. “She had feelings for him a long time ago but Bucky never felt the same.” 

I could tell in the way that Steve’s breath hitched in his throat that he wasn’t telling the complete truth but I let it go, simply taking a large gulp of my drink. 

“Whatever you say, Rogers.” I grumbled. 

He sighed and was ready to say something else but we were interrupted by another man slinking up towards the bar and stood a bit too close to my liking. 

“Y/N, I must say you look so good tonight.” 

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I let myself step closer towards Steve, who had no issues with placing an arm in front of me. 

“What are you doing here, John?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “I’m here to celebrate the newlyweds. Where is your husband anyway? Can’t even show up to his own party?” 

“I’d suggest you leave now, Walker.” Steve threatened. 

I placed a gentle hand on Steve’s arm to hold him at bay. The last thing I needed was to make a scene in front of everyone here. 

“John, there is no reason for you to be here. Please leave.” 

He ignored me, still keeping his hard gaze on Steve and smirked. “It must be so easy for the two of you. Having all that serum running through your veins?” 

I blinked, confused, and felt Steve tense under my touch. 

“Serum? What are you talking about?” 

John chuckled and finally tore his gaze away from Steve. “They didn’t tell you what they’re into? What they’ve been concocting in that lab?” 

“Steve, what is he talking about?” My voice faltered. 

Steve cursed and began leading me away from John. However, he was a tad faster than Steve and managed to side step us, blocking our path out. 

“They’re creating this super soldier serum so they can have their own army. They even injected themselves with it,” John informed while reaching for me. “It’s not safe for you to be with them, Y/N.” 

My head began to spin at this new information. Serum? Super soldiers? Bucky and Steve were these things? 

I would have thought John had been lying but suddenly it clicked of what I saw that morning in Bucky’s office. A briefcase full of blue liquid. I thought it had been drugs and now, I wasn’t too sure what was worse. 

My feet stumbled and when John reached for me once more, I smacked his hands away. 

“Leave me alone,” I snapped. 

“I can keep you safe, sweetheart.” John pleaded. 

His hands grasped my wrist and yanked me towards him causing me to yell out in pain from how hard he pulled. 

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” 

My voice seethed while I pushed him hard against his chest, his grip faltering. I looked for a way out, needing to get far away from here. My chest began to constrict, a pain shot through my body and I did my best to even my breathing. 

John tried to reach for me once more.

“Step back,” Steve threatened him and stood between the two of us. 

The words kept replaying in my mind, like a broken tape player stuck on a forever loop. 

Super soldier. Super soldier. Super soldier.

“Fuck, I need to get out of here.” I groaned while squeezing my eyes shut. 

Steve was quick to grab my hips from behind and led me through the crowd of people. There was a white noise in my ears, ringing so loud, that I hadn't heard Tony up on stage introducing the guest of honor. I also hadn’t heard Bucky calling my name, wondering why I was being rushed out of the house. 

[icallhimjoey]

fake joe! fake joe! we need him now more than ever PLEASE give us some of this soft idiot who loves us more than life itself? 🥺

all RIGHT, here we GO (quick psa: he's not extremely soft in this, but an idiot: always) enjoy! Wordcount: 3.3K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was wrong, you were stubborn, and it was all right.

It was all right.

You could do things yourself. It was fine. Not as fun, but… not to toot your own horn or anything, but you were pretty good at it. Have had a lot of practice, you see. Have been with enough other men who didn’t know how to do it quite like you could do it yourself, and so, you were fine. You were all right.

However, you weren’t feeling so great when your whole group of friends found out what Joe’d been doing. Friday nights at the pub were a long-standing tradition, and apparently the topic of conversation being your sex life was one too. 

Not a huge surprise, seeing as Izzy still had trouble looking Joe in the eye after witnessing what she had witnessed.

Within fifteen minutes, everyone was brought up to speed. Everyone got updated on what Izzy had seen and heard, got told about this stupid conversation you’d had that one night, and you’d revealed what it had resulted into.

“Wow... can’t believe you’re saying wild shit around Joe like that, you know what he’s like.” One friend had said, blaming you for your own current problem.

“Well,” Izzy had interjected. “Don’t feel too bad for her. You also know what she is like.”

It’d gotten hearty laughs from everyone but Joe. He’d just looked at you over a pint and tried working out what your smug little smile meant.

A couple of jokes later, he’d caught on.

“It’s good I’ve got that magic touch myself, you know?” you’d giggled into your drink, bumping shoulders with your female friends as they laughed and cheersed their drinks with yours as you took a sip.

Oh, Joe caught on all right. And he didn’t like it one bit.

Afterwards, in bed, with Izzy on the other side of the wall, you had only just gotten comfortable when Joe silently whispered, “I think you’re cheating.”

“Mhm, what do you mean, I’m cheating?” you whispered on the backend of a sigh, too tired to turn around to face him, but already gathering the mental strength in case it was going to be necessary.

“Well, you said... before, you said, sex wasn’t about the orgasm, didn’t you? That’s what you said.”

And, big annoyed groan. It was going to be necessary.

“And it isn’t.” You confirmed, just turning your head to find his eyes in the barely there light the outside provided you with.

“Yea, but...”

All right. You were turning over fully now. Spooning was nice, and not smelling Joe’s breath after he’d eaten what smelled like eighteen garlic cloves was lovely too, but this seemed like a chat that needed eye-contact. Or, at least, the ability to tell by Joe’s face if he was being serious or not. 

“But?”

“But then, what you said tonight. You’re just... you’re doing it yourself? All the time? You’re making yourself c–”

“Yea.” You interrupted. “So?” Had he really expected you not to?

“So that doesn’t really count then, does it?” 

You leant up on an elbow, mirroring Joe’s position, eyes level now, ready to tell Joe he was overreacting whilst also trying to keep your voice as quiet as you possibly could. This was the stupidest thing, and Izzy didn’t need to hear it. If she did, it would likely be the topic of conversation next week.

“What do you mean? You try not coming during sex and then wanking on your own the next day. It’s not exactly the same, you know?”

“Yea... yea, I know.” Joe was reminded of the bet that got him into your bed in the first place. That was essentially exactly what he had done for a full week - Joe very muchly knew it wasn’t exactly the same.

“But...”

“But?”

“I don’t know... I don’t like that.” Joe said softly and a little embarrassed. You could tell by his face that he knew you were going to laugh at him. Which you then did. Far too loudly, too.

You were immediately shushed.

“Baby, that’s okay.” Your amusement was audible in your voice, smile still there but eyes on the wall, because: Izzy. “You’re allowed to not like things, I’m sure you’ll survive just fine.”

You were ready to roll back over. Get back into your spooning position where Joe’s body heat would make sure you wouldn’t go cold throughout the night.

“No, I don’t like that.” Joe doubled down, foregoing the whispers, and you paused for a second. Froze, and waited for him to explain himself.

“I don’t want you to orgasm.” Joe then said, a bit softer, barely even saying the last word at all.

But you’d heard him.

Loud and clear.

It was enough to make you roll back slightly. Enough to look over your shoulder and see that... he wasn’t joking.

What the fuck.

You blinked at him a few times.

Gave him a second to maybe take back what he’d just said.

Then, when he didn’t burst into laughter like you thought he should’ve done, you said, “Hey so... remember when we talked about icks a lot?”

“Stop.” Joe rolled his eyes, already annoyed with your response. You weren’t taking him seriously at all.

“I may have just found one.”

“Stop.” Joe let himself fall onto his back and rubbed a hand over his face. It made you turn towards him more, sitting up slightly now. 

“You can’t actually be serious.”

And Joe looked like he was maybe trying to figure out if he was being serious. If maybe actually this was just to be funny. Just a silly goof to make you laugh. But then, he gestured a hand in front of two widened eyes that he let then drop onto his lap.

“Okay, so maybe you are being serious, but I won’t take it seriously.”

Joe gave you a look.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. I don’t think I can.” 

To that, Joe rolled back onto his side and let his fingers find the sleeve of your top to play with.

“Yea, but... do you think you could still be as certain about sex not being about the orgasm if you also then couldn’t orgasm in your own time?” Joe looked up through his eyelashes, big brown eyes trying their best to work their magic on you.

You just blankly stared at him.

Tried thinking of a time when he’d been more ridiculous.

Second-guessed if Joe even was someone you wanted to have in your bed with you right now.

Narrowed your eyes at him when he raised his eyebrows at you, his chin dipping down a little as he did.

“It’d be interesting to know…” Joe shrugged a hopeful shoulder up to his ear, and the little smile he flashed at you made you want to humour him, though not without a small little hint of sarcasm.

“Like a science experiment? Are you going to document your findings? Write it all down and send it in for a Blue Peter badge? What is even–”

But Joe couldn’t care less about how sarcastic you sounded. Didn’t even laugh at your Blue Peter joke.

“No, like me edging you and seeing how long it takes ‘til it drives you mad.”

“Drives me– …. Joe. Come on.”

You decided to turn over fully now. This conversation was done. Over. You were tired. Needed sleep.

“I’m not joking. I kind of, sort of, want to know. A little bit.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey,” Joe tried.

“Joe, I have deadlines at work.” You let your head find a comfortable spot on your pillow, cheek rubbing into the soft fabric, doing your very best to dismiss Joe.

But Joe wasn’t going to give in so easily, unfortunately.

“So?” Joe cosied up a bit, hoping that maybe a hand on your waist and a leg sneaking its way in between yours would sway you into being a little more agreeable for him.

“So, I’m tired. Good night.”

Joe didn’t accept that.

“So you mean you admit you need to cross the finish line to be able to make deadlines at work?”

“Oh my God, you’re insane. No. Of course not.”

You were tired, but not any less stubborn. You’d happily die on this weird hill.

“So,” Joe let his hand slide over your stomach where it found the hem of your top to sneak under. “Let’s try then.”

“You’re insane.” you murmured into your pillow, ready for this conversation to be over,

God. It was late.

“Please?”

“Ick.”

You were so tired.

“Please.”

“Fine.”

You heard a small little gasp behind you, followed by a beat of silence and then a very quiet and innocent, “Yea?”

You had your eyes closed already, ignoring what you’d just said and determined to will yourself into REM sleep within about four seconds.

“You mean that?”

“Shh, go to sleep. I’m tired.”

And for a moment it was quiet, but then Joe snuggled up and whispered, “Okay.” before he pressed a small little kiss on the skin just behind your ear. “Good night. Hands to yourself.”

You couldn’t help the loud scoff that escaped you then. “I’m going to murder you one day.”

“Shh, go to sleep. You’re tired.”

Tired, and stubborn.

More stubborn than was good for you. Or, than made sense, unfortunately.

There was something about wanting to prove Joe wrong that seemed to be easily redirected, but still held you in its vice grip. You were never going to admit you were wrong. Wouldn’t dream of giving him that satisfaction.

It didn’t matter that you were quite literally driving yourself mad with it.

You would fucking win this, God damn it.

Joe was going to eat his words and you were going to be the one to feed them to him.

What you hadn’t anticipated when you’d snapped an irritated fine at him, agreeing to this ridiculous new bet, was how different having sex with Joe would become.

Different in a sense you wouldn’t have been able to predict at all.

Before, you’d let Joe sort of do what he wanted. Would let him work you up and then would follow his lead as he would make sure you’d feel good before he did.

Joe was good at foreplay. Enjoyed it lots himself too, if he was honest. There was something very enjoyable about making you all soft for him. About seeing the minuscule change in your smile as lust slowly took a hold of you. About the way you’d fight it for half a minute before you’d just entirely give in to him, and let him do whatever he’d want, pretty much.

And he still did that.

You’d claimed that those were the important things, so he made sure to always pay them close attention. To whisper all the right words. To let fingertips trail in all the right places. To squeeze where your body felt tight until it didn’t anymore.

He still did all that.

But once he would have you in the palm of his hand, he’d then just do what he liked.

Would touch you where he liked to touch you.

Would move you into positions he liked the feel of.  

Would chase and stretch his own pleasure, yours forgotten and left behind.

This was the bet.

The experiment.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t try pulling lovely sounds out of you. He enjoyed that too. Would spur him on like nothing else would, when he’d suddenly get you in a way that made you almost yelp.

But it was clear he did that shit for himself.

And you were fine.

Stubborn.

“How was that, baby?” Joe’d ask, still panting and wet with sweat, already smiling at his own stupid question.

But you’d just smile widely. Give him a little smooch, and you’d say, “Loved it.” which was never a lie.

You did always love it.

You really did.

Shut up. You did.

What Joe hadn’t anticipated, was that you reached a point where you were the one who’d started pushing him away when you’d feel yourself getting too close.

“Stop, stop... wait.” You’d still Joe. “We can’t, I’ve got to–” and you’d move to get Joe away from everything too sensitive.

It had really taken him by surprise, sort of confused him a second as he watched you breathe through flared nostrils as you tried to ground yourself.

And, shit.

If that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

The first time you’d done that, he’d immediately praised you. Got his mouth on your ear and whispered, “Good girl. My good girl, doing just as she’s told, isn’t she?” and you’d groaned and pushed him away even more, because that wasn’t helping.

But he was right.

You were being good, because you were stubborn, and you were going to win this because Joe was wrong.

You were being good at not letting yourself come when you had sex with Joe.

You were also being good at not secretly getting yourself off in private.

Made it seem so easy.

Too easy.

You hadn’t told Joe that you’d googled what hormones an orgasm released, and what other ways to get those same results, but that was neither here nor there.

You were being good.

Too good.

And then, one evening, after sharing dinner together at Joe’s flat, he suddenly seemed to question everything.

You’d just settled on the sofa when Joe decided to ask, “How do I actually know if you’re not secretly still touching yourself?”

You turned your head to look him dead in the eye. “Um, you trust me.”

That got him right in his funny bone.

“I’ve not been absolutely acing this just for you to turn around and tell me that you don’t believe me,” you scoffed full of disbelief, but still smiling, because you got your boy to laugh. “What even is the point then? If there’s no trust?”

Joe laughed louder, because if he was honest, there wasn’t really any point to this at all, was there?

“Might as well do it if you think I am, anyways.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Joe accused, and the absolute aghast face you made as you moved away from him was enough for him to immediately reel it back in.

“No, no, okay, you’re right, come here. I trust you.” Joe pulled you back into his side and gave you a tight cuddle before kissing into your hair and repeating, “I trust you.”

A moment of silence passed where you toyed with the idea of telling him you’d had a sex dream the other night.

You’d not had a sex dream in ages.

Knew you’d only had one because you weren’t left satisfied, so your mind started seeking it elsewhere.

But you decided against it when Joe then softly asked, “How do you do it?”

“Mental strength. Sheer determination.”

Joe silently laughed, “No, I mean. How would you do it yourself?”

You side-eyed Joe and tried to hide the growing smile on your face.

“You want me to tell you how I get myself off?”

Joe looked at his feet that rested on his coffee table as he shrugged.

“Yea. Would you do it in the shower after, sometimes?”

“Like you would?”

Joe made quick eye-contact as he guiltily smiled. You knew exactly what he’d been doing that one week of favours.

“Sometimes.” You then admitted, knowing this was a conversation that was going to work Joe up enough to probably maybe end up underneath him in his bed.

“Yea? Would you.. would you use the shower head?”

You couldn’t help the cackle that escaped you. “No, actually. Not enough pressure.”

“Fingers then?”

You frowned through a smile and pulled away from Joe a little to give him a good look.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Joe was quick to argue, eyebrows raised in innocence. “I just want to know.”

You then just looked at each other a moment, and you saw from up close how Joe slowly let his bottom lip roll into his mouth to bite into.

“Yea my fingers.” You then said softly, and Joe let his head drop to the side as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Both hands, sometimes.”

Joe had to suppress a groan. Only managed it just about.

“Take my time. Do it real slow.”

“Yea?”

You let your eyes flick down to see if you could see enough of Joe’s crotch to witness him grow in his jeans.

You could.

“Mhm, touch everywhere that feels nice. Soft at first, but then a little harder.”

Joe turned his head and pressed his forehead into your shoulder as his breathing got a little heavier.

He was definitely getting hard.

Men were so easy, it was stupid.

“Gotta be quiet though...”

“Quiet, yea.”

“Can’t let anybody hear.”

“No, you–” Joe nearly choked on his spit. “You can’t.”

“Got a flatmate just in the other room.”

Joe shifted a little, pulled on the fabric of his jeans to give himself a little more room, no attempt to hide his arousal in the slightest.

Then, he cleared his throat before he hoarsely said, “No flatmate here though...”

You smiled and shook your head a little.

“That’s right. No flatmate here.”

Joe couldn’t stop looking at your lips, and you felt how he sagged into the sofa more. Leant into your side a little more heavily.

“But...” you then continued, giving him your most innocent wide-eyed look as you slowly shook your head. “Can’t do any of that, can I?”

Joe mirrored your facial expression and the head shaking, not even aware he was really doing it, easily agreeing with dazed half-lidded eyes, “No, can’t do that.”

“You told me no, didn’t you?”

“Told you no.”

Joe was straining inside of his dark blue no-stretch one hundred per cent cotton denim, and wasn’t it just delicious to give Joe just a little bit of his own medicine?

“So...” you suddenly spoke up loudly and slapped a strong hand onto his thigh. “I think I’m gonna head home.”

“I– what?”

You were already up on your feet before Joe’d fully landed back into his own living room.

“I promised Izzy I’d help her with–”

“No, you can’t do that!”

You turned around, phone in hand, checking it for any missed messages and smirked a little.

“Oh, but I think I can.”

“This is...” Joe let himself fall back into his sofa, shaking his head in outraged disbelief, “Unbelievable.”

Slinging your arms into your jacket, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Joe was wrong, and it would serve him right to feel how wrong he was too.

“You better believe it, baby!” you said theatrically, stepping closer and bending just to give Joe a quick kiss goodbye. “See you tomorrow?”

“I don’t like this.” He murmured against your mouth, but you ignored it.

“We can do lunch?” Easy-breezy. Very nonchalant.

“I don’t like this.” Joe repeated himself more urgently, voice raised a little more as he watched you leave the room.

You stopped in the doorway to throw him a last smile. Saw how Joe squeezed his erection over his clothes, face in a deep frown, so fucking annoyed.

You fucking loved it.

“Baby, that’s okay.” You cooed. “You’re allowed to not like things.”

You really were acing this stupid bet.

Joe was wrong, and you were stubborn, and you were going to make him feel how right you were in his bones until he’d admit it.

“I’m sure you’ll survive just fine.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - And The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Date

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning(s): Sad!Jack :(

Something small for my comeback story <3

Thank you all SO much for the love!!! Send in some requests and I’ll keep the stories coming!

—————————————

“It’s gonna be the best date you’ve ever been on!”

What a horrible promise.

First, he was late. Something about media day extending longer than he had planned. Not his fault, but it did peeve me slightly. I hated when Jack’s work kept him from our plans unexpectedly.

Then our reservations were cancelled because we were both late, but have no fear! Jack had a backup plan.

A backup plan that went south the second he realized how hard it was to schedule a good reservation on Valentine’s Day.

So we decided to get ice cream.

Then it ended up on my dress. All because Jack’s hands simply moved too much when he talked.

I missed the guilty look in his eyes when we were both frantically trying to wipe the stain out of the fabric of my skirt. I knew how hard Jack could be on himself, but he was so good at hiding it, that I sometimes forgot to check on him.

When we left the ice cream shop, it started pouring.

Jack and I didn’t have umbrellas. He offered me his suit jacket to wear as we walked to the nearest bus stop. Only to find out that the bus wouldn’t be around for another hour. So we decided to trek home.

And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. I was starving and drenched and down a dress. The misfortunes didn’t end.

Jack didn’t set a timer on the oven for the pizza he put in. We only noticed when we started smelling the burnt crust.

Jack looked so tense that I hadn’t even bothered following him into the kitchen. I walked down the hall to find a change of clothes, and answer a call from my friend. I put her on speaker while I took light steps.

“Hey! Happy Galentines day! I wish you could have been there tonight.”

“I know.. me too.” I smiled sadly at the thought. It was my first Valentine’s Day that I hadn’t spent with the girls. “I miss you guys so much.” I stepped into the bedroom and pushed the door shut to a crack.

“We miss you too! But I mean- I just have to know what all you got into today!”

“Oh god, honey. If only you knew.” I giggled, pulling the wet dress off and tossing it into the hamper by the bed.

“I have all the time in the world. Did you get some wake up sex? Breakfast in bed? Did he spend the whole day cuddling you and giving you all kinds of gifts?”

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ Truly I didn’t mind. Jack kissed me and wished me a happy Valentine’s Day before he left for work that morning. That was good enough for me. But now I wished at least something other than our morning had gone decently.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“We had plans. But his stupid media day kept him late. And then we missed our date. Then I got ice cream on my dress and it poured on the walk home. And I’m starving and Jack just burned the damn pizza.” I let out a defeated sigh as I dropped onto the bed, setting my phone beside myself as I tucked my hands between my back and the mattress to unclip my bra. “This is what I get for leaving you girls.” It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t muster a laugh at it.

“Wow. Talk about Jack Hughes and the terrible horrible no good very bad date.”

“Exactly.” I shook my head. “Just one decent night out was all I wanted. We barely get time together any more.” I tried to keep my voice down. I wasn’t bad talking Jack in any way. I simply missed him, and the universe did everything in its power to ruin our evening.

“You guys still have the whole night.”

“A whole night where everything else could go wrong.” I stood up and crossed the floor to find a change of clothes in my dresser. “I’d rather just go to bed and forget this horrible day exists.”

“Oh come on now. Chin up. Jack still might have a couple tricks up his sleeve.” I wanted to believe that, but I knew he didn’t, because if he did, we wouldn’t have been home already. This was plan Z, and evidently, plan Z just crashed and burned like our pizza.

“Maybe.” I relented. I didn’t have the energy to argue. I pulled on an old cropped t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“I’ll tell you about my day another time.”

“No, no.” I walked back toward the bed. “I wanna hear about it.”

“It’s okay, really. You and Jack should try and spend whatever time you can together. Especially after today. I promise I’ll save my stories for tomorrow.” I heard her quiet laugh over the other end of the line.

“Are you sure?”

“Just promise you’ll call me.” I sat on the bed as she spoke, letting out a sigh.

“I promise.”

“I love you, girlie!”

“I love you too.” There was a moment of silence before the line went dead. I let out a sigh and shook my head. I turned my attention to my sweats, one of my feet stuck and refusing to go through the hole in the leg. I groaned, and gave one last forceful shove before I managed to get my foot through.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing?

“Fuck Valentine’s Day.” I mumbled, walking into the bathroom. “Such a shitty day anyway.” I turned the sink on and waited for the water to heat up, drowning out the sheepish voice of my lover in the hall calling my name. I didn’t hear him until he was halfway through the bedroom, and standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

I grabbed a towel from the cabinet.

“What’s up, Jack?” I asked, barely sparing him a glance as I held the cloth under the tap.

“Can we talk?” I heard him sniffle, and the second I looked up, I was greeted with a heart wrenching sight. I immediately turned the sink off and set the cloth down.

“What’s wrong?” I cooed, stepping forward to wrap my arms around him. In all my days, I hadn’t seen Jack cry very much.

“I ruined Valentine’s Day.” His quiet and broken voice was such a contrast from how loud and excitable he usually was.

“No you didn’t,” I reassured him, but I could already hear the quiet cries escaping his lips. “Jack.” I tried to get his attention.

“I’m sorry.” The middle Hughes had always felt like he needed to compete for his parents attention. Through no fault of Jim or Ellen, Jack had simply never felt like enough. He always idolized Quinn, and the problem with that had been that nobody can ever see themselves measuring up to their idols. He always fought for his parents love even when there was no reason to fight. And he’d isolate himself and berate himself when he’d ever done something wrong or bad. I knew he felt worthless for how badly the day had gone.

“Jack, honey, it’s okay.”

“I know you just wanted to be home.. and I’m so sorry I messed everything up.” He tried to pull away, always insistent on distancing himself when he didn’t feel like he deserved a hand to hold. But I pulled him back in with a gentle force.

“Jack it’s one day.” I reached up to hold the back of his head. “And I never said I wanted to go home. I just wanted to be with you.”

“It’s an important day. And the girls never messed it up.” His back rose and fell with sporadic breaths. There it was. That competition. Something he felt he had to measure up to.

I sighed out a breathy laugh. “Oh baby,” I slowly pulled away, reaching for his hands as I pulled him into the bathroom. I closed the toilet lid and motioned for Jack to sit on it, which he did.

“Do you know how many years have been chaos at galentines?” I asked. He shook his head. I stepped back toward the sink and grabbed the wet cloth, wiping gently at the makeup on my eyes.

“The first year, we only had a veggie tray because everybody was too broke to actually cook anything and we were all still in college.” I glanced at Jack in the mirror. “Our second year, we didn’t even plan a consistent time, so everybody just showed up whenever, and it was in the common room during March Madness.” I finished removing my makeup and tossed the cloth aside. I grabbed a paper towel and turned to Jack, leaning forward to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He sniffled once again.

“Year three and four didn’t happen because we got too busy with our lives. Year five was held in my first apartment. We ended up clogging the sink and having to learn how to fix pipes in the same night.” I lowered myself into his lap. “Year six we were going to go to the beach. Surprise surprise, Kathy forgot the plane tickets.” Jack seemed a bit reassured about that one. At least he hadn’t ruined a vacation.

“Nothing is perfect Jack.” I ran my hands through his wavy hair.

“It should have been.”

“Yeah, but it’s not. Things go south sometimes. It took the girls and I years to coordinate the perfect Galentines Day. We’ll get there too.” I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“So we’re okay? You’re not mad?”

I shook my head. “Baby, I would never freak out over something as small as this.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I might not let you plan the next date, but I’m not angry.” I finally brought a giggle from his lips. “You went through so much trouble today to make me happy. Even if nothing went well I appreciated it. Thank you so much, Jack.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾