#the immediate downward glance followed by the eyebrow and okay then face right before the camera cuts in hostile take over

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[deanstead]

Murder Next Door || Part 2

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When one of Jay’s neighbours is found dead, both he and Y/N find themselves right smack in the middle of what could turn out to be a very dangerous situation.

Word Count: 2,925

Tags/Warnings: canon-typical mentions of murder, blood, idiots-in-love

A/N: Thanks to bestie @mertes4cker for looking through a small part for me so that I ultimately pushed through with this! Here's Part 2! Let me know what you guys think, I hope yall like it! Any mistakes are all mine!

MINI SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Part 1 || Part 3

Jay glanced at his watch, once again feeling the familiar irritation of being one step behind a perp rise from his gut and wash over him.

Exhaling, Jay stood and glanced around the empty bullpen. Voight had dismissed everyone about two hours ago but Jay had stayed behind to dig further into Abbie’s personal relationships to see if he could find anything but all he could come up with was a list of people that Abbie had been seeing recently. Kim was really much better at this part.

So he got up, deciding that he should get back, get some shut-eye and check in on you as well.

You hadn’t said anything else to Jay about the case, about Abbie, or even about the mystery man, but Jay knew you too well. So you didn’t need to. Jay knew that a part of you was already running ‘what-ifs’ through your mind, despite your silence.

Jay made it back in record time since the streets were pretty empty, even for this time of night. He even had time to stop and get a smoothie for you before your favourite place closed.

Jay looked back at his watch as he jogged up the stairs, smiling a little as he imagined the expression you’d have when he brought home the smoothie, mentally smacking himself.

Seriously, Jay. Stop it.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it any longer when he reached the landing, his eyes immediately falling on the sight of you standing at the slightly ajar door, someone dressed somewhat as a police officer standing in front of you, his hand on the door.

Jay barely registered the growl of protectiveness that rose within him before he was there, sliding himself in between you and the stranger.

“Detective Halstead, Intelligence. Is there a problem?” Jay said, his hand sliding behind him and closing around yours protectively as he gently pushed you further back into the apartment.

You felt the relief flood you, your fingers unconsciously wrapping back around his hand.

There was a silence from the man, before he shook his head. “We’ve been sent to make routine checks. As long as everything is fine.” He said, his voice losing just a tinge of the confidence he had had just a second before. With that, he turned and left down the corridor.

Jay waited, watching him head straight for the staircase at the other end of the building without stopping at any other doors before he headed back in and closed the door behind him.

“You okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

Jay belatedly realized you were still holding hands so he gently let go. Your eyes flicked downwards at that moment and you froze, realizing how much of a death grip you still had on him before you loosened your fingers. “Sorry.”

To cover up the awkwardness, Jay raised the smoothie he had, watching the smile spread across your face as he had predicted.

“10 points to Halstead.” You grinned.

Jay angled his eyebrow up. “Just ten?” He teased, handing you the drink, but inserting the straw into the drink for you.

“What did he want?” Jay asked now, turning his head back towards the main door.

You glanced up from where you were drinking and shrugged. “He said he had follow up questions about the… the murder.” You told Jay, even though you felt this buzzed feeling in your gut that it was something much more than that, now that you felt safe enough for everything to process.

Jay frowned and you could tell - his worried frown.

“And he asked to come in.” You said, your voice smaller now because you knew Jay was going to jump.

“What?” The growl came almost immediately. “And he was alone the whole time? Did he give you a badge number? Which district he was from? His name? Anything?”

You put your hand up. “One question at a time, Jay.” You took a breath and stole another sip of the smoothie. “It was… weird. Like you know that feeling I have… that gut feeling? There was something off but I couldn’t place it. It was…”

You paused, as the memory hit you now, before you took a sharp inhale of breath.

“His voice.”

Jay looked up. “What?”

You looked up again, your eyes shaking this time and Jay moved forward to take the drink from your hands, using the opportunity to stand a little closer. “That’s what was familiar. I’d heard his voice before.”

Jay frowned but didn’t say anything.

“That night. That guy that didn’t want to take his keys out.”

Jay’s eyes widened.

“That’s where I’ve heard his voice before.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay glanced at where you were sitting in the pantry of the bullpen with Kim, before he turned back to Voight. “This asshole is testing us. Testing her.” He said through gritted teeth.

Voight studied Jay for a while more before he turned back to the rest of the team. “Alright, what do we have?”

Kevin glanced at Jay. “We ran down all her boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, anyone we could find but everyone checks out.”

“So we have nothing?” Jay’s voice went up a few notches.

No one said anything for a beat, the silence only broken by Hailey’s ringtone.

“Upton.” Hailey answered, as Jay turned back to look at you again, where Kim was sitting with you, just as you looked up and gave him a smile.

Jay smiled, putting up an “okay?” sign, to which you nodded and responded back.

The frustration was overwhelming. All he wanted to do, other than catch this son of a bitch, was to take you into his arms and protect you from any other danger. And he couldn’t even do that because you had no idea. You had no idea that he’d been in love with you, and Jay was hesitant to shake the stability that the both of you had established. Friends were better than nothing, right?

“That was Abbie’s sister.” Hailey said as she got off the phone.

Jay frowned. “I thought she wasn’t in the country.”

Hailey nodded. “We managed to track her down after all. Let’s go talk to her.”

Jay glanced back in your direction before he nodded. “Yeah, give me five.”

Jay headed in to the pantry, opening the closed door and Kim smiled. “Hey Y/N, I gotta go… settle something. You gonna be okay?” Jay asked.

Kim pushed back her chair. “Let me know when you’re ready.” She said, leaning forward to squeeze your arm.

As Kim closed the door behind her, you glanced back at Jay and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Which you were. Actually, you were pretty sure that Jay was more on edge than you were, judging by the way he was just standing.

So you reached out, a little impulsively, for his hand.

“I’ll be fine. Kim’s going to send me back to your place and for the time being I’m supposed to focus on my novel, anyway.” You paused. “And you’re on the case.”

Jay exhaled a little forcefully, squatting down to be on eye level with you. “Alright, don’t be a hero and just… be careful okay? Call me if anything happens and whatever you do, unless it’s me, Will, or someone from the team, do not open the door.

You smiled back at him before you nodded. “Got it.”

Jay put an affectionate hand on your head. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

You nodded again, watching Jay leave, the smile still lingering on your face.

Even if you could only be friends, at least you could be by his side.

“Hi, Eva? I’m Detective Upton, we spoke on the phone.” Hailey introduced herself to the lady who opened the door. “And this is my partner, Detective Halstead.”

Jay gave her a small smile and nod.

Eva Walker smiled back at the both of them before she stepped back. “Yeah, come on in.”

She led them silently towards the sitting room. “Can I get you something?”

Jay shook his head with a smile and Hailey just motioned for her to sit down.

Eva was silent for a while, before her eyes roamed around the room. “Abbie and I grew up here, it was my parents’ house.” She said, her voice holding a hint of sadness.

Hailey let a beat of silence fall before she spoke again. “Were you guys close?”

Eva let her eyes find Hailey’s blue ones, before she nodded. “Yeah. My work is mainly overseas, but we used to talk a lot, even so.”

“Used to?” Hailey prompted.

Eva exhaled. “She was behaving a little weirdly recently, again. I thought he’d found her again, but she didn’t say anything and I didn’t want to push.” She paused. “I should have pushed.”

“He?” Jay asked, picking up on it immediately.

Eva glanced up now. “She had this guy stalking her. It’s why she moved around so much. She only came back to Chicago because my mother was ill and he hadn’t contacted her for a bit. She's been back for a few years. The detective on the case thought he might have moved on.” She paused. “Abbie joked about it with me - the safest place is also the most dangerous place, right?”

This was new information, and Jay finally felt like they were getting somewhere.

“But he was never identified?” Jay asked.

Eva shook her head. “The detective was sweet, he checked in on her regularly but there wasn’t much he could do, you know? They tried lifting prints off the stuff she received, but it didn’t go anywhere.”

“Do you still have the detective’s number?”

Hailey and Jay had gone straight to see the detective on the case, but they were essentially back at square one since they had had no suspects. It had probably been a stranger, someone Abbie had probably met during a random encounter.

Stalkers were the worst to find, even when their stalking victims were alive. And now that Abbie wasn’t, it’d be hard to retrace her steps.

But at least, when Hailey and Jay returned to the bullpen, not all of it was bad news. They’d found two different blood types at the crime scene, one belonging to the victim, another belonging to an unknown male that was not in the system.

Even so, with the new information that Abbie had had a stalker, Kim had delved deeper into Abbie’s communication records, finding calls that traced back to different burner cells that lasted for less than a minute for each call. Voight had sent Kevin and Kim to go trace each of the cells, to see if they could track him from the source of the burner.

Voight had then sent Jay home to be with you since he was worried, and for good reason. As he stepped past the threshold, Jay's phone rang.

“Yeah.” Jay answered, glancing around the empty sitting room, noting that you were probably in your room.

Kim’s voice crackled from the other side of the line. “Platt called me. They’re not signing off on 24/7 protection.”

“What?”

Jay could hear Kim’s audible breath, like she had seen this coming.

“Jay, look I know you care about her. More than you let on but…” Kim started, but Jay interrupted her.

“Yeah, she’s my friend.” Jay raised his voice a little, despite trying to keep himself in check. “Kim, I know it’s not you and it’s out of Sarge’s hands but she’s my friend. I don’t care if I have to do it myself.”

Jay’s voice traveled down the hall to you in your room and you felt a weird sensation of annoyance that you’d never felt before. You knew it wasn’t your place to feel annoyed but you really wished he’d stop treating you so well if he was just going to be your friend for the rest of your life.

Sometimes, it just felt like you and Jay were dancing in and out of the gray area between being normal friends and something more and on some days, like today, it irritated you more than it should.

You swallowed down your feelings as you heard Jay hang up.

Taking a breath, you rearranged your features before you left the room. Even if you didn’t, Jay would come looking so there was no point continuing to hide out in your room anyway.

“Jay?”

You’d figured it out based on his side of the conversation but you waited for him to fill you in, your eyes studying his expression.

You waited, but Jay seemed to be having difficulty getting the words out.

“They can’t have uniformed officers with me, can they?” You said, saving Jay the trouble. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine. I’m not the only person in this city.”

Jay saw through your brave front immediately, his eyes narrowing.

“You don’t have to worry. I have a plan, alright? And if I have to do it myself, I’ll do it. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Jay said, his voice low, his piercing green eyes seeming to look right through your soul.

As he stepped forward, you did something you’d never done before with Jay - you took a step backwards, avoiding his hand.

Jay frowned. “Y/N?”

“Don’t.” You said, the word coming out as a whisper. “Don’t go out of your way. I’ll be fine, like I always have been.”

Jay felt a wave of annoyance as he looked back at you. “Like you’ve always been? Like when the guy you were seeing cheated on you? Or like when you almost ended up living on the streets? That kind of fine?”

That smarted.

You could tell Jay regretted it, the words that didn’t really seem that harsh but that hurt like hell.

You glared at him, before you turned heel and left, storming out the door.

You walked straight out the building, not caring that you’d forgotten your outer jacket, nor that it was dark. And with each step you made, you got more annoyed.

If it hadn’t been for this murder, if you hadn’t been the one who’d somehow bumped into the stranger in the lobby, you were sure things wouldn’t be such a mess. The mix of emotions you were feeling - the fear and nervousness from the looming threat that you didn’t know how to handle, mixed with all the million emotions that Jay Halstead made you feel.

And now that you had stormed out and the cold hit your bones, you had a problem.

You had literally nothing on you, you couldn’t even call Will.

You slowed down just a little, before you felt someone grab you from behind and a yelp escaped your lips.

“It’s me.” Jay’s voice, before you felt a jacket go over your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, wanting to glare at him but your heart was still pounding.

Jay didn’t say anything.

“Why do you care, Jay? If I’m such a mess, why the hell do you care?” You asked, the unsettled emotions rising to the surface once again.

“Because I worry about you!” Jay’s voice rose now, and you could hear the annoyance surrounding the words as they hit you. “Is that so wrong?”

You could feel the tears gather behind your eyes but you couldn’t give it away. “Well, stop it.” You told him. “Stop it because you confuse the hell out of me and I can’t do it like this. I can’t.”

“So what the hell do you want me to do?” Jay asked. “You want me to stop caring? Because I can’t do that, Y/N!”

“Why the hell not?” You retorted.

Jay exhaled loudly, giving you a look like you were stupid. “Do I really have to spell it out for you, Y/N? Because I’m in love with you, alright? You happy now?”

The words hung in the air between the two of you, before you realized you had to say something.

“You, what?” You asked, barely daring to believe it.

Jay breathed heavily, like he’d been running. “It took me all of ten seconds to grab your coat and chase you back down. I keep telling myself not to get too close but I can’t do it, alright? So I know you don’t feel this way but you’re just going to have to deal with it because I’m not going anywhere.”

You blinked back at Jay, the tears pooling in your eyes again.

“Jay, I…” You bottom lip trembled a little. “You…”

“What?” Jay asked, almost like he was challenging you.

You just closed the distance between the two of you, right into his arms, pushing your face right into him.

Jay stiffened. “Y/N..?”

“God, Jay. What the hell do you think I feel?” You asked, your voice coming out as a whisper. “I’ve been so terrified of losing you I forgot how much I kept buried inside me, and then now I have to worry about some maniac who probably wants to kill me. So, today I just… I just…”

Jay pulled you gently away, before he leaned down and pressed his lips over yours without another word, his hand threading through your hair gently.

As Jay broke away, you looked up at him and he swept the tear off your cheek, before he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t let anyone touch you. Not while I’m here.” Jay said, before he wrapped his arms around you again, pressing you into him protectively.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open!

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[itsdanii]

Hormones and Midnight Cravings

genre: fluff & comfort

ft. timeskip!atsumu miya x pregnant!reader

atsumu can't say no to you, even if it means having to wake up his brother at midnight to cook for his baby girl.

"Onigiri," was the first word you whispered the moment you opened your eyes.

You took a glance at the clock sitting on your bedside table, the red 1:24 am staring at you mockingly. Sighing at the ungodly hour your little one decided to wake you up, you placed a hand on your swollen belly, only to come in contact with the familiar feeling of your husband's protective arm.

With careful movements as to not hurt your belly, you spun around to face Atsumu, shaky fingers guiltily poking his arm. "Baby?" you whispered gently.

Atsumu groaned and pulled you closer towards him. Exhaustion from their practice was visible on his face which made you even more guilty at the fact that you were trying to wake him up.

Your hormones were raging and your whole body ached - your back, your feet, everything. Even something as simple as Atsumu's lack of response was enough to make your eyes teary. Can he not feel you shaking him awake? Or maybe he could feel it but is purposely ignoring you?

You bit your lower lip at the thought, a small hiccup emitting from you. "Tsumu..."

Your husband's eyes snapped open in alert, sleep completely vanishing from his face upon hearing his wife's sob. "Hey, baby, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked as he sat up, eyes scanning you for any injuries.

"I'm sorry," you cried softly as you fisted his shirt, tears cascading down your cheeks and on to the pillow underneath your head.

"Are ya hurt? Talk to me, love. I won't know unless you tell me." Atsumu adjusted your position to cradle you in his arms so that your body was facing sideways while you sat on his lap.

With your arms clinging to him, you murmured softly against the side of his neck. "I'm hungry."

You felt his chest vibrate as he let out a small chuckle. "Gosh, baby. Ya scared the shit out of me. I thought you were in pain."

"I am in pain! My back hurts and my feet are sore! And don't even think of cursing in front of our child again!" you scolded him as you hit his chest.

"Sorry," you hear him whisper against your head, his hand drawing small, soothing circles on your bump. "You said our little one is craving for food?"

You nodded and looked up at him, cheeks flushed and a small pout forming on your lips. "She's craving for Onigiri."

"Alright. Wait for me here, mkay? I'll just reheat some leftover onigi ya had a-"

"No," you cut him off.

Atsumu rose an eyebrow at you. "No?"

"No."

"But I thought ya said she wanted onigiri?" he asked in confusion.

You nodded. "She does but...she wants those limited time onigiri 'Samu released on Valentine's day," you said in a tiny voice.

"Babe," Atsumu said followed with a small sigh. You knew that he was trying his best to be patient at this point. After all, you disturbed his precious sleep. "We don't have that as of now and ya know that those were available on Valentine's day only, right? Even if we order at this hour, they won't have any stock."

Your lips wobbled upon hearing his words, eyes casting downwards to your baby bump as you felt disappointment course through your body. "But I want them now!" You huffed and got off his lap, repositioning yourself to lay back down with your back facing him.

"Ah, shit. Here we go again," you heard your husband mumble to himself.

"Are you tired of me?" you asked as you bursted into tears. "I just wanted some onigiri. I'm sorry 'Tsumu.."

Atsumu quickly yet gently pulled you to him in panic. He knew how sensitive you are during your pregnancy and even the doctor warned him to be prepared for such instances. "Of course not, love. Look at me," he cooed.

You turned to look at him and immediately noticed the gentle look on his face. "I'll never get tired of ya, baby, okay? How about you give me a couple of minutes to get ya the onigiri ya want? I'll go call 'Samu and tell him our little one's hungry. Does that sound good?" Atsumu asked while brushing his fingers through your hair, the action making you feel sleepy all of a sudden.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "Yes please."

"Alright." He leaned in and kissed your forehead before moving downwards to kiss your swollen bump as well. "I love ya both."

likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[ama-kuu]

Abandoned and Rehomed Ch 2

Warnings: Panic attacks, Depression

Hawks brings you home after picking you up as an abandoned stray

Feline quirk reader

Sorry this is gonna be another sad one. I promise that it's gonna get better as the story progresses. 😅

Link for Chapter 1:

Hawks landed gently on his balcony, tenderly gazing down at your sleeping form. He lightly adjusts you in his arms, as few feathers detach to unlock the keypad and maneuver the sliding doors open. Now under the awning, he shakes out his wings, bristling each feather to expel the water droplets. Glancing back, the rain still falling heavily, he moves swiftly into his penthouse.

……………………

You groaned as your ears flicked at the sounds of a nearby shower starting. Ugh. Your head was pounding. You sat up from the very plush mattress underneath you, rubbing circles at your temples, you slid off the bed. You rocked slightly unbalanced when you straightened up. You peered around the room, your gaze catching at the large wet spot on the bed from your rain soaked clothes, you lowered your ears.

Guilt dug at your gut, your head quickly turned to bathroom the door, it was cracked but you didn't see any movement. You moved your attention back to the bed. In your mind, you were indebted to Hawks for graciously picking you off the streets only to inconvenience him.

You tried to work quickly to remove the sheets and bedding before Hawks returned. Once you had all the bedding gathered in your arms you searched around for the hamper. You were so absorbed in your task you didn’t even notice Hawks leaning against the bathroom door frame snickering at you.

He stealthily moved behind you. You were so focused that you didn't even notice him until his hands gripped your hips pulling you flush against his own. You yelped involuntarily followed by blushing hard.

He shook with laughter as you clutched the bedding close to you. “What are you doing Kitten?” His head cocked to the side trapping you with his intimidating golden gaze.

You faltered under his attention, “Oh..Um..” You looked down at the bedding in your arms, your ears drooping forward as you contemplated your response.

“I wanted to clean up after myself before you came back.” You kept your head down, unwilling to hold his gaze. Did you mess up? Was he upset with you for touching his things? Wha-

He clicked his tongue, breaking you out of your downward spiral. Feathers swarmed the bedding, pulling them from your hold and floated off out of the room. Hawks spun you in front of him, now facing him. He held your chin up to maintain eye contact.

“Kitten…” He leaned in closer, “I didn’t bring you home to be a maid…So let me pamper my new pet properly.”

Your mind was spinning leaving you speechless as you gaped at him. Your mouth hung open stunned for only a brief moment before you sighed in relief, leaning up on your tip toes and purred loudly against his neck. Thank goodness he wasn’t mad. He pet your head gently before gathering you up, his arms scooping you up under your thighs. His hands brushed over your tail causing you to shutter against him. In the short time you were with him it seemed like you spent most of it in his arms rather than touching the ground, it was amusingly pleasant. You melted against him.

You couldn’t help but notice his own wings flutter gently at your reactions. You leaned over him as he carried you towards the bathroom, your fingers gingerly batting at the feathers at the peak of his wings. He deeply inhaled and dipped through the bathroom doorway, careful to make sure you didn't hit your head on the door frame.

He set you down on the marble vanity. The steam from the shower caused a thick fog to coat the room. You took in the room, not only the counter was marble but the floors and the walls as well. It was honestly intimidating to take in. Beside you sat a neatly folded pile of his clothes. Your attention was quickly redirected by a brief flap of his crimson appendages, as he leaned into the shower to check the water temperature. You sat there in a trance as your senses zoned in on his wings. You fought your quirk’s instincts to run your claws through the feathers pulling and tugging at the quills.

Hawks felt the intense stare on his back. Peeking his head subtlety over his shoulder, his pupils narrowed at the sight. You sat there, eyes fully dilated with your claws flexing in between your spread thighs. He slowly expanded his wingspan, eager to watch your expressions. You reacted immediately, claws elongating and digging into the stone counter. Fuck. Watching you restrain your impulses to jump him was HOT.

He shook his head, he was in control. At least that’s what he told himself as he raked his gaze over you. Still in your soaked outfit, he knew he needed to make sure you were taken care of first, before his own needs. He slowly exhaled, regaining that control, he stepped closer to you.

“Kitten. You are going to shower then change into these.” He motioned to the clothing beside you.

Your pupils readjusted back to normal as you listened to his commands.

“Got it kitten?” His eyes flashed with dominance challenging you……

“Yes.” His eyebrows raised surprised to hear you for the first time since you woke up. You smiled gently at him, your heart warm at his efforts to pamper you.

His hands braced your shoulders, “Kitten if you need me, I’ll be right outside the door.”

You nodded as you slid down from the counter. When your feet were planted on the floor he gave your forehead a light kiss before retreating out of the room.

With Hawks no longer around to distract you, the headache you woke up with became more apparent. Your head throbbed as you slowly peeled the heavy clothes from your body. They fell to the floor with a thud as you stumbled to the shower. The steam was now thick and difficult to see through, as you entered the luxury glass shower. You stood under the water stream with your ears tucked down to prevent water from getting too far down into your ear canals.

Your hands grazed up your body as the shower heated you back up. Heat. You froze when your fingers made contact with your collar. Your stomach dropped. Hands become numb as they clenched onto the collar. Even though you were the one left behind, you could not help but feel… guilty… Dabi….Tears flooded your eyes as your legs buckled under you. You couldn’t stop what came next. You began to hyperventilate, you choked on the shower steam as you tried to get air into your lungs. You needed to collar OFF, NOW. Your fingers fumbled with the buckle as you fought back sobs.

“HAWKS!” You screamed for him, fighting to get the words past the tightness forming in your throat. It was getting harder for you to breathe, it felt as if the collar itself was strangling you with your own feelings.

He was on you in seconds. Red blurs flew around you as the shower was shut off, plush towels wrapped cocooned around you and mainly the collar choker removed from your neck. You got one last glimpse of it before it was flown out of the room. Taking deep breaths, you cling to his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Everything’s okay kitten, you are safe with me.” His hand cradled your head against him. He didn't dare move you, not until you calmed down. “I’m going to be right here. You can get through this, just keep breathing with me.”

You focused on him and made a conscious effort to sync up with him. In and out. He continued to rub gentle circles on the back of your head with his thumb, as your respirations became slower.

You nodded against his chest, “I’m okay.” Your heart was still pounding in your chest, but you felt better.

You lifted your head and wiped the stray tears from your cheeks, “ I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.” You smiled to ease your embarrassment.

“No. No apologizing, If you ever need something, you call me. Period.” He squeezed you against him. “Am I alright to pick you up now?”

“Yea, can we go back to bed.” You tugged lightly at his shirt in your hold.

“Anything for you”, he scooped you up effortlessly and carried you back to the bedroom.

You looked at the freshly made bed as he passed it and set you down on the bench at the foot of the bed. It puzzled you as you turned up to look at him.

He leaned down to you, “I'm gonna dry your hair before we go to bed, hang out here for a second.”

You sat there in silence. What time was it anyway? Glancing around you noted the large thick curtains that covered what you assumed to be a large wall of windows. Knowing Hawks, you bet he lived somewhere high up. You internally kicked yourself for not being able to stay awake during the trip here, to get a general idea of where you were.

Hawks returned shortly with a small hair dryer and wet brush in hand. He kneeled behind you carefully brushing through your hair. You pulled your knees to your chest so you could rest your head against them.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” He paused to wait for your response.

“No, it’s nice.” He continued to comb through your hair until the brush passed smoothly. Then began section by section blow drying.

You soaked in the warmth as you purred in content. Your chest vibrating from the sounds, you would honestly be surprised if Hawks couldn’t hear it.

You dozed off as he tended to you. Once he finished, used his feathers to return the tools into the bathroom. He pulled you up onto the bed throwing the covers over you and positioned you as the little spoon against him.

His wing covered you, as you held his arms around you. It felt nice to be wanted again. His arms pulled you tighter against him, it was very noticeable now that he was shirtless. Your face flushed at the realization that you never put any clothes on, after your episode you completely forgot.

“What’s the matter?” he blew seductively into your ear. “Your heart rate seems to be increasing rapidly.” He chuckled as he teased you.

Fidgeting with the blankets, you pulled them tighter to your chest. Your cheeks burned from embarrassment, you turned to face him and pouted.

Hawks spun you in his arms, so that you were now fully facing him. “Kitten relax, tonight I’m just gonna cuddle you.” He moved his arm to prop his head up on the pillow. “Besides I wanna make sure you are a little more settled before I scare you away” He winked suggestively at you.

You giggled into his bare chest, “I’d like to see to try”. You scraped your teeth against his skin, giving a brief nip before curling into him and drifting off to sleep.

Taglist:

@sunaswife @viol3tcr3am

This isn’t the end. I promise there will be more chapters to come. I have a lot of ideas and directions for this story to go. I hope that everyone is enjoying it. This is my first series, so I’m doing my best. Thanks for bearing with me. 😸

[wildingrose]

spilt tea

dark alley help part 10

part 9: care

word count: 2.8k

》 ignored kink, cunnilingus, oral sex in office

- ✿ -

You sat on the desk in your office cabin while Cindy watched you hold the pile of documents. Your eyes scanned over the lengths of the legal sized papers that contained detailed information on the clients and their wishful properties. Flipping through them and resting the reviewed next to you, your heart froze when coming across the name of one particular client.

Facing the paper her way, you asked, "Him? He's our client?"

Cindy squinted her eyes to read the inked name and nodded. "Yes, it's your fiancé. He's been our loyal client for a long time."

You groaned at the unofficial title. "He's not my fiancé. Never was." That made sense as to how your mother found him and why she really liked him. "Doesn't he have a gazillion properties? Why does he need more?"

"He mentioned that this one was for... a reunion, I believe. It's a new property under construction and will be underway for closing soon."

Your head pounded painfully and your fingers went up to relieve it in circles. Raymond was purchasing a property just for a reunion instead of holding the event at one of his currently owned hotels. That guy was just flexing his money through property ownerships. "Whatever," you mumbled and took a quick glance at the company name that was responsible for the construction. Then, your eyes immediately fixed on where it was located.

It was the block where Taeyong mentioned that he was working at. You hadn't seen the structure yet, and now you were overjoyed to.

"Oh my God," you muttered and hopped off the table, your hand flying to your mouth in utter shock before your shoulders shook and a loud sinister laugh escaped from you.

Cindy watched you in concern as you jumped gleefully in your spot. "Um, Y/N, are you okay?"

While you weren't hundred percent positive for what his reaction was going to be, you couldn't wait to rub it in Raymond's face that he had purchased something where Taeyong had contributed to building. You waved Cindy off with an ecstatic smile. "Yeah, don't worry. I was just thinking about something."

She stared at you for a moment longer before letting it go.

Shortly, a knock on the door was heard, followed by a head popping in. "Can I come in? I have your tea," Chris smiled, shaking an acrylic tumbler with iced tea. "This should help with your headache and slight nausea."

"Thanks a lot. Of course, come in," you waved him in.

He nodded and strode over to you. You retrieved the drink and took a long sip of the tea, humming happily. "Perfect."

"Hope it helps. Also, there's someone waiting for you outside."

"Really? Who?" Your lips connected with the straw and sucked in another long sip.

His brows furrowed as he tried to recall the name. "I think his name is... Taeyong?"

You spurted out your tea in surprise that he came to your workplace in the middle of the day and set the tumbler down on the desk. "It's Taeyong? Bring him in!"

Chris nodded and went to fetch for your man while Cindy eyed you curiously.

Chris stepped into the main area where Taeyong stood by the desks, more specifically by Shannon's desk who wordlessly stared at him. "Hey man, come on in!"

Taeyong straightened his back and cleared his throat, avoiding the gaze of the young woman drilling a hole in his head. Her gaze remained on his retreating figure with a slight frown creasing her forehead.

Your colleague reappeared with the man that you were looking forward to trailing behind. Taeyong smiled subtly as you jogged over to him with a bright smile.

"Baby," you chirped and wrapped your arms around him. He faintly chuckled and held you close, pecking your forehead. You turned around in his arms and found Cindy's jaw hanging low and Chris whistling in amusement. "He's Taeyong, my fiancé-to-be," you introduced him, mainly for Cindy. Taeyong was stunned by the unexpected title but happily accepted it, wanting nothing more than to be bonded with you in the utmost ways possible.

Chris quirked an intrigued brow. "Now that's some real tea right there. Have fun now," he said and with a salute, he walked out the cabin.

Cindy closed her mouth and reminded you of an important task. "Mr. Riley is expecting a call in..." She glanced at her watch. "... about a few minutes. Should I stay here to help you?"

You shook your head. "It's pretty straight forward so I'll be fine. Thanks though."

She nodded and headed to exit the cabin, closing the door behind her to give you privacy.

You pulled away from Taeyong and asked, "I love seeing you here, but how? Don't you have work?"

He pointed to the window in your office. As if on cue, the light droplets shifted to pouring rain outside. "It started onsite, so we had to stop working. Thought I'd come here and see how you're doing."

You hummed. "Good thinking. But I have work to do, so no funny business," you warned with narrowed eyes.

He exhaled out of his nose and nodded, seeming disinterested by your words as he shuffled his feet towards your desk and hopped on. His eyes landed on your tea and picked it up, taking a huge sip and frowned at the bitter taste before setting it back down. Taeyong then scanned his eyes around the cabin, making observations of how clean and polished the walls were with modern design.

You arched an eyebrow at him to which he didn't catch. Was he really going to sit there and not do anything? Good for you. You strolled over to pick up your client's portfolio and cell phone from the desk. "I have an important call to make. Do not make a sound, and no distractions. Understood?"

Taeyong merely shrugged in response, and you began dialing your client's number. While you waited for the call to be answered, you glanced at Taeyong and noticed that he wasn't doing anything except for swinging his leg.

"Hello, this is Riley speaking."

Startled, you fumbled with your greeting. "Oh hi! Good afternoon, Mr. Riley. I'm Y/N L/N and am calling on behalf of my father regarding your interested properties. I'll be taking his place so it will be a pleasure to work with you," you spoke with politeness.

Taeyong huffed and mumbled, "Only I give you pleasure." You smacked his arm.

"I'm sorry? I didn't hear the last part well."

Your eyes widened. "Nothing!" You gave Taeyong a glare and moved away from him, balancing the folder on one hand. "So, I see your investments and interests..."

Taeyong watched you as the call droned on, getting immensely bored without your attention on him, and so he decided to make himself comfortable.

You took a sneak peak to see what Taeyong was up to and did a double take. "I'm sorry but could you please hold on for a moment, sir?" Pressing the mute button, you gritted your teeth. "Taeyong, why are you unbuttoning your shirt?"

He kept moving his fingers downward, undoing the buttons slowly and pushed the flaps to the side for his handsome torso to be on full display. "I'm feeling hot," he said with his voice laced in pure boredom.

You gave him a pointed look. The air conditioner was blasting in your cabin, therefore having no reason for him to feel uncomfortable. You ignored him, turning your back on him and resumed your call, but now you were partly distracted by replaying his beautiful skin in your head.

Taeyong sighed when seeing you ignore him again and hopped off. He rounded the desk and plopped down into the massive leather chair, putting his feet up on the table and rummaged through the drawers to look for anything that could entertain him.

Your ears picked up on the soft sounds of drawers sliding open and shut. There was a brief moment of silence followed by a container lid clicking open. The faint chewing sounds made you turn around and your heartbeat stilled before kicking into full racing mode. You were paying almost zero attention to your client as you watched Taeyong bite into a cherry, the juice spilling out of its flesh and past his lips, traveling down his chin. He made no efforts to wipe it off as he finished the fruit off, spitting out the seed and discarding the stem onto the lid. Picking up another one, he repeated the action, making more of the sweet red juice coat his chin.

You wanted nothing more than to lick his skin clean, and then straddle yourself on his lap to have a heated make out session with him. But you held yourself back and blinked a few times, shaking your head and focused on the reason why you were doing all of this.

When the cherries were all done, Taeyong huffed out in frustration from having nothing else to do, your phone call seeming to run way longer than anticipated.

Just then, his lips curled into a smirk as an idea hit him.

He stalked over to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and you didn't notice his approaching presence from behind until he swiftly bent down to grab your waist from the front and hoisted you over his shoulder, holding you effortlessly by your legs. Your hand lost balance of the folder and it crashed to the floor, and your eyes bulged out as he carried you over to the desk.

He put you down on the table and shoved everything aside with his arm, not giving a glance as to what was being knocked over. Taeyong positioned you until you were laid flat on the sturdy desk and crawled on top of you, bringing his gaze to meet yours. With your mouth agape, you stared at his dark eyes as you were no longer processing a single word that your client spoke.

"Ignore me," he mouthed without a single sound and then he began.

He unbuttoned your shirt enough to expose your bra. Your heart crashed in your chest, fearing for what he had in mind when being in the office with a client on the phone and the door to your cabin left unlocked. But you were thrilled to see what Taeyong was going to do while you 'ignored' him.

His tongue poke out to coat saliva over his cherry-dried lips and dipped his head in between the valley of your breasts, sucking on the skin there with his soft lips sending excitement down to your core as you began producing your own sweet juice. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, stopping your sighs from reaching the speaker. You could have muted your voice and took full advantage of the situation, but this was 'ignore Taeyong' game and you were going through with it to see its end.

"Miss Y/N, are you still there?" Your client's voice snapped you back to your main responsibility.

"Oh sorry. Yes, I am." And with that, he resumed talking.

Taeyong pulled back and observed the faint colour of the fruit transferred onto your skin, and you nearly sighed aloud when he took long strides of his hot wet tongue to lick it clean, your grip on the phone tightening. When done, he pulled back with a smirk, and your eyes blew up when one of the most insane things happened next. Taeyong leveled his face with the zipper of your pants and grasped onto the small sliding piece with his teeth, pulling it down undone with such ease that you thought was not possible with the difficult task.

His hands yanked your pants down along with panties to midway. To prevent the hassle of taking your shoes and pants off completely, he crossed your legs, keeping enough space to dive his head into the opening from underneath. His hands firmly held your legs in place to stop you from squeezing around his head. His face leveled with your glistened core till you felt his hot breath fanning over it. Taeyong was amused to see you turned on and took a deep breath in with his nose touching your sweet flesh. "Smells nice, doll," he whispered ever so softly that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't completely focused on him. Your legs quivered around his head as you spilled more juice out.

At last, his tongue strode over the length of your heat and your jaw hung open without a single sound parting from your lips. He repeated the action and after dipped his wet muscle in between your slick folds. You used every muscle in you to keep your hips grounded to the smooth surface of the table while your free hand clenched into a tight fist beside you. It would have been at his head gripping his hair, but you weren't sure if that counted as ignoring him.

Your walls hugged him as he began rolling his tongue. A small hum was felt against your flesh, causing your belly to tighten and spill more of your delicious juice onto his tongue. He hungrily lapped up every drop, his moist muscle flicking against your clit that resulted you to slip a mixture of moan and whine past your deep breathings.

"Is everything all right?"

Your blood ran cold when you had momentarily forgotten all about the phone call. Your ears had completely droned out your client's voice to focus on the squelching sounds that your man made in your cunt. Your brain quickly tried to come up with a sound excuse. "Oh um, I spilled something on my desk. I'm sorry about that. Please continue."

Taeyong snickered, sending sinful vibrations throughout your body and further tightened your belly for the incoming orgasm. Unfortunately, another desperate whine escaped from your mouth. Mr. Riley was silent for a moment before speaking up. "I do have another matter to attend. We can end our discussion here for now. I look forward to working with you, Y/N."

Finally! "I see. I will too. Have a great day-" and you quickly ended the call before a pathetic moan could travel through the speaker as Taeyong began having a make out session with your cunt, sucking your throbbing clit in between his lips. Chucking your phone aside, your hands lightly played with the wisps of his dark hair. "Oh Tae," you choked out a quiet sob. Your legs ached and trembled the longer it was forcefully kept open.

"Look at me, doll," he whispered.

You looked down at the sinful view of his head in between your legs. His gaze heavily burned into yours and gave a few harsh sucks, resulting in the final snap of the coil in your stomach. Your vision blurred as your back arched off the surface to generously cum into his mouth. He hummed as he sucked up every drop of your essence, still lapping over your heat even after it was over, and the sensitivity caused you to push his head away. "No more," you weakly whispered.

He kissed your cunt two times before completely pulling his head out, helping you put your pants back on. "You taste so good, doll," he drawled seductively he licked his lips clean.

You smacked his chest, feigning anger as you buttoned up your top. "We would have lost one of our biggest clients if he figured out what I was up to."

"But he didn't. You did a good job ignoring me... for the most part anyways," he snickered.

A series of knocks was heard and the door flew open, revealing an unsuspecting Cindy. Her eyes went on a tour as it scanned over the dropped portfolio on the floor, your shocked eyes on her, Taeyong's disheveled state and open shirt, and the mess on the desk.

She huffed out at the sight of drenched documents. "If you were going to have fun, couldn't you have done it without getting anything spilt on the documents?"

Your brows scrunched, confused with what she meant until you spotted the acrylic tumbler tipped onto its side with the tea no longer in its container as the papers soaked the liquid up. "Oh shit," you muttered and shot a look at Taeyong who simply shrugged and feigned innocence as if not his fault.

Cindy sighed. "We'll just have to prepare all those again."

"I'll prepare them myself. It's my fault anyway."

She shook her head. "It's fine. I'll help too. You owe me a drink for overtime," she cracked a smile and winked.

You breathed out in relief that she wasn't too mad at you. "Of course."

Taeyong turned to you with bright eyes. "I'll help too." Not only would he be able to spend more time with you, but also receive a free drink, your drink, while at it.

Your jaw slacked, aware of his underlying intention, and pushed him out the cabin with all your strength. "No! You're leaving, mister!"

tag list: @cosmiclatte28 @mel-yjh @johnnysuhisnotmyproblem @kttyongie @chantellsievert

[teacup-set]

Paperhearted

Summary: ‘Tch. Who says ‘I love you’ to someone they just met?’ he thinks, frowning all the way home. ‘Annoying.’

But his heart feels caught in quicksand, slowly sinking to his stomach.

She never did tell him her name.

[ModernAU, for @disquieted]

Read on: FFN, AO3

x

A chill cuts through the autumn air as Sasuke waits for his brother to pick him up. The kindergarten playground is quiet except for the creaking of the swing that he sits on as he waits. With every passing second his mood grows sour. All the other kids had already been picked up long ago, he is the only one still waiting. He wonders if Itachi nii-san will make up for his delay by playing with him when they get home, and suddenly perks up at the thought. In his mind he devises how he will pout and look disappointed to really drive home the guilt, when the silence of the playground is interrupted by a scream.

Startled, Sasuke whips in the direction of the sound. It came from the adjacent woods, and nii-san had told him strictly to never leave the kindergarten campus. Besides, he is only a kid. He will just get in the way, he reasons.

‘Then why am I doing it?’ he wonders as his legs move on their own accord, tugging him across some invisible string to where the sound came from.

As he draws closer, he regains enough control to slow down, and quietly pulls to a stop behind a tree. In the clearing ahead he sees two boys snickering, peering down at something obscured from his view, and he vaguely registers seeing them before around town. They look a year or two older and seem to wear the same school uniform Itachi wears, though mother would throw a fit if she ever saw Itachi’s clothes so rumpled and untucked.

“Boo-hoo, look at little strawberry shortcake crying.” one of them mocks.

“Ooh! Leave the cat alone!” the other squeals in a high-pitched imitation, “Well how do you like being in its place then?” he finishes in his normal voice, aiming a kick forwards.

He sees her then, as she falls sideways from the blow, into his line of sight.

Pink hair (pink! ) falling out from her red ribbon, teeth biting her lower lip to keep from crying out, and the brightest green eyes he has ever seen brimming with tears and the determination to not let them fall.

The first boy, egged on, aims another kick at her stomach. She closes her eyes shut tightly and gasps when his foot connects. Sasuke feels his heart clench. He wants to help, but there are two of them and only one of him. They’re older too. It would be stupid to engage.

‘I’m not stupid.’ he thinks. ‘I’m not stupid!’ he repeats.

Her eyes open and they are glassy and unfocussed. He watches as her gaze travels dimly across the landscape around her till she spots him and stills. All of a sudden the clarity of the world around him shifts, and Sasuke feels like he is waking into a dream. She holds his gaze, and then a single tear falls down her swollen cheek.

“I’m not stupid!” his mind echoes again. Only this time he isn’t thinking it, he is screaming it from his lungs as he charges across the clearing into one of the bullies.

By the time he has regained his sense of time and place, his fist has already connected with the face of the boy who kicked her the second time. Sasuke isn’t sure where he mustered the strength because the boy flies back a full two feet, planting face first into the ground. Around him, the boy’s accomplice and the girl both stare at the scene that just unfolded in shocked silence. Then the stillness of the moment is shattered as both the bullies scream, and scramble to get away.

Sasuke is heaving from the rush of what has just transpired, and watches as the boys make their escape. Behind him, the girl lifts herself off the ground and sits up. He turns to face her.

She is looking at him quizzically and he can’t say he blames her, he himself is unsure of what possessed him. But looking at her, eyes and cheeks swollen, hair and clothes in disarray, a tear-trail cutting across a muddied cheek, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Your hand...it’s bleeding.” she says, softly.

Sasuke frowns and looks down, and indeed she is right. There is a gash across his knuckles, angry and red.

Slowly she gets up, and limps towards him. Reaching out, she gingerly takes his bleeding hand into her own and looks at it thoughtfully. Then she retreats one hand to pull out the ribbon in her hair, and ties it around his knuckles. She releases his hand and immediately he feels bereft, though he isn’t sure why.

“Um, thank you.” she says shyly.

Before he can open his mouth to respond, they hear commotion in the distance.

They turn towards the sound to see the two boys from earlier staggering back towards them...with three other friends in tow. Sasuke doesn’t know where his strength came from earlier, but he is doubtful he can summon it again. Especially against five older opponents.

They look at each other. There is an understanding.

And then they run.

They race through the woods with reckless abandon, hair flying in the wind. Beside him he hears her laugh as they are running, and he has half a mind to ask her what exactly she finds funny about this, but he is laughing along too. There is something so freeing and young about the whole situation. They run without thinking, giggling every time they glance back at the group giving chase. Every few moments they are drenched in sunlight breaking past the canopy, before plunging into the shade again. Despite her beating, the girl manages to keep up pace, never falling more than two steps behind him. From the corner of his eye, Sasuke spots the kindergarten playground in the distance, and a lone figure standing in the center.

‘Nii-san!’

Swiftly he grabs her hand and breaks perpendicular to their trajectory, pulling her along with him. They run until they make it out of the woods, and Sasuke grins at the sight of Itachi looking confused to see his brother racing out of the woods with a girl in tow. The boys chasing them exit the woods not long after, hot in pursuit, before halting at the sight of Itachi.

Sasuke pulls the girl with him to stand behind his brother. Itachi glances at the pair, then at the pursuers, and quickly catches on. He stares at the boys and quirks an eyebrow, and that is enough. Itachi may be a gentle soul, but everyone knows better than to mess with him. In an instant they are scrambling to disperse from the playground, mumbling hurried apologies to Itachi. From behind him, Sasuke and the girl look at each other, and then break into full-bellied laughter.

Amused, Itachi bends down on his knee, “Care to explain what’s going on, little brother?”

Sasuke turns to him to answer but notices Itachi is looking downwards. He follows his brother’s gaze to where his hand is still wrapped around the girl��s.

Immediately he drops it and jumps a foot away.

Blushing and embarrassed, he explains to his brother what happened. Itachi listens patiently and then turns his attention to the grl. “Are you okay?” He asks. Mutely, she nods.

Before anything else can be said and done, a woman bursts onto the playground.

“Oh my god, there you are!” she exclaims, and runs to take the girl in her arms, “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Moving back from the hug to take a look at her state, the woman gasps. “Sweetie, what happened?”

“Some boys were picking on me. He helped.” she says in a small voice, pointing her finger at Sasuke.

“Oh dear, thank you so much.” says the older woman as she pats him on the head. “She just wandered off. We were worried sick!”

“Come along now, sweetheart, we have to be on our way.” says the woman that Sasuke assumes is her mother, as she gently tugs her along in the direction of a car waiting by the roadside, a man standing by its side and waving.

“Wait!” the girl cries, and then turns to him, “What’s your name?” she asks, a desperate urgency ringing in her voice.

Sasuke knows because he feels it too.

“Sasuke!” he yells after her, because she is already halfway across the playground, “What’s yours?”

She breaks into the widest grin.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun!” she yells back, “I love you!”

Her mother laughs loudly, and beside him Itachi huffs in amusement too. Sasuke is stunned, and can only stare as she gets into the car and drives away.

She has already disappeared over the horizon before his senses return.

‘Tch. Who says ‘I love you’ to someone they just met?’ he thinks, frowning all the way home. ‘Annoying.’

But his heart feels caught in quicksand, slowly sinking to his stomach.

She never did tell him her name.

x

There is a rumor spreading across their middle school that Sasuke likes girls with long hair, and he knows exactly what prompted it.

He jogs back from the track to the sidelines, breathing heavily, and then runs through his stretches. A brief cool-down later, he returns to the locker-room, trading in his sweaty track clothes for his standard school uniform. He finishes buttoning up his shirt, puts on his tie, and then reaches into his locker for one last thing.

He pulls out a red ribbon, and ties it around his hand.

Beside him, Naruto quips—

“Are you ever going to tell me why you wear that thing?” he asks, gesturing to the ribbon.

“Hn.” Sasuke grunts in the way of an answer.

“You know all your fangirls think that ribbon is reserved for your one true love , and if they make you fall in love with them you will tie that ribbon to their hair?” he questions, clasping his hands together in a decidedly feminine gesture for dramatic effect.

Sasuke rolls his eyes as he strolls out of the locker-room, with Naruto following behind him.

“I’m serious!” he insists, “I’ve seen them role-playing it after school!”

They settle into their seats for their next class, and Naruto pesters him again.

“Well? Is it true?” he wiggles his eyebrows, “Is this about a girl?”

Sasuke lets the question slide as he turns his attention out of the window. The horizon is endlessly far and there is a pang in his chest. If it’s about a girl, then it’s a girl he has never met again.

He never saw her again after that day, and figured she had only been visiting. As distinctive as her hair was, he was only a kid and the world was just too big to go looking. He doesn’t even know why he is looking, why even after all this time there is a feeling that something has been lost.

‘I’m a fool.’ he thinks, staring off into the distance.

“Or maybe it’s auntie Mikoto’s? Does leedul Sasu-cakes miss his mwommy?” Naruto continues to speculate.

Sasuke promptly smacks his best friend’s face into his desk.

x

Sakura watches Ito walk out from the classroom. He pauses briefly at the door, and turns around to flash her a forced smile that she returns with just as much strain. As soon as he is gone, she sinks into her seat. The love letter he wrote sits unopened in front of her. She is grateful, at the very least, that he chose to approach her after class when they had been alone. Others had not been so courteous, and her heart had lurched with each shake of her head in front of an audience of merciless classmates.

Not long after he is gone, Ino pokes her head into the room. Finding it bereft of anyone except her friend, she invites herself in.

“Well? What did he say? Actually nevermind that, what did you say?” her best friend interrogates her, and Sakura has no doubt she had been lurking just outside the classroom. She simply looks at the blonde and frowns.

“Seriously, forehead? Again?” exasperated, Ino plops down on the chair in front of her. “How many hearts do you intend to break, huh?”

“Why don’t you at least give someone a shot? What are you waiting for?” she eggs on.

Heaving a deep sigh, Sakura stares up at the ceiling. ‘What am I waiting for?’

“Earth to forehead? Hello? Anyway, since you’ve declined everyone who asked, you can be my date to the festival. Sai-kun will understand, he doesn’t care much for this stuff anyway.” Ino declares while inspecting her nails.

Sakura smiles at her friend.

“No, pig, you and Sai should go,” Sakura says, “I don’t think I am going anyway, I have to prepare for the university entrance exams.”

“Are you kidding me? Sakura, this is our final year of school. How can you miss the spring festival?” Ino is appalled.

Leaning back on her chair, Sakura scoffs. “It’s our final year, that’s why we need to study. We’ll have fun in college, okay?”

“You take this way too seriously, forehead. Are you that eager to leave us and run away to some big city?”

Sakura falters. A memory resurfaces. Being five years old, visiting her aunt in Tokyo, running through the woods, and then leaving much, much too soon.

To her relief, Ino isn’t waiting for a response.

“Well, let’s at least get some ice-cream on the way home.” she says, getting up. Smiling, Sakura joins her as they walk out of the empty classroom. “Just be careful Sak, the rate at which you’re going, you’ll end up passing right by your soulmate.” Ino says jokingly.

Sakura laughs along and tries to smother the voice inside her that says she might already have.

x

Sasuke finishes his last class for the day and unhurriedly strolls to his academic supervisor's office. He pauses in front of the office door and glances down at his watch. Two minutes late, not that it made a difference considering his supervisor. He knocks.

“Come in,” a lazy drawl beckons.

Sasuke walks into the office. “You asked to see me?” he inquires.

Hatake Kakashi leans back in his chair. “I did, have a seat.” he motions, “So Sasuke, have you given any thought to what you want to do after university?”

Sasuke shrugs.

Kakashi sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Sasuke. You’re an excellent student, your grades are flawless, and you have so much potential. But all of that is lost if you have no ambition.” Kakashi looks at him with the slightest hint of frustration in his bored eyes, “You have a year of university left. Give it some thought. Ask yourself what gives you purpose.”

Sasuke nods, agreeing simply to end the meeting faster. Anticipating that he won’t get through to him, Kakashi dismisses him, promising to have another catch up after his mid-terms.

Sasuke walks out of the office, his book bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. Despite himself, he is pondering over the brief lecture he just received.

Ask yourself what gives you purpose.

“Tch.” Sasuke scowls in annoyance, and then halts his stride.

Though the scene itself plays in his mind like a vignette, blurry and faded at the seams, he still remembers the feeling of throwing his body forward on instinct, pushing off the bully from the girl fallen on the ground. He remembers standing between them and knowing with unflinching clarity that he had done the right thing. He sighs in disbelief at himself, even after all these years, living his life based on a stupid childhood memory.

On the way back to his dorm, he picks up a form for the police academy.

x

The announcer’s voice calls over the PA system, alerting the passengers on the train of the upcoming station.

Closing her book and stashing it in her bag, Sakura prepares to disembark. She glances at the door nearest to her, but finds it already packed with the rush-hour crowd, each one eager to be the first one out the doors when they open.

Instead of swimming through the hoard of people, she chooses to cross over to the only slightly less crowded adjacent compartment, hoping to deboard from there. Rubbing shoulders with the others that had the same idea, she traverses the narrow section that bridged the two coaches. Instantly, she feels a shift.

Anticipation coils in her stomach and all her nerve endings are firing in an urgent panic. It feels like crossing into a different world. ‘What is it?’ she thinks, trying to pinpoint the cause of her alarm. And then she spots it. On the far end of the compartment, peering into his phone, eighteen years older than the last time she saw him but nonetheless unmistakable, him .

She feels the urge to scream, but his name is caught somewhere between her lungs and her mouth. In the background, the speakers announce the opening of the doors.

Sakura feels the push from the people around her, and she feels like she is caught in the current of the sea, being sucked under again and again with nothing to hold on to, the water swallowing her voice. All of a sudden time slows to a standstill, and she watches as he lifts his head and looks in her direction. Their eyes meet.

There is a quiet murmur in her heart that she has carried with her most of her life. The one that piques up each time she thinks of him. The one that tells her it is all in her head, that he has already forgotten, that she has been building castles in the air all along. She feels that voice surface again, but then she sees his eyes widen, mirroring the alarm in her own.

He lifts his hand, and she catches a glimpse of an old familiar ribbon. The treacherous voice in her heart is silenced.

But the current around her persists, and she feels the tug of the crowd pull her along through the doors. One again she is five years old, watching helplessly as the distance between them grows.

She watches as he tries to wade through the crowd to reach her, but she has one foot on the train and one foot on the platform, and she knows he won’t make it. So, she decides to take this chance to answer a question she left unanswered many years ago.

She cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “Sakura!”

In the next moment, she is on the platform and the doors are closing. Rooted in place, she watches as the train begins to move and another chance slips away. An overwhelming sense of grief washes over her, but in the midst of her heartache is a small bud beginning to bloom.

‘He remembers.’

x

The day has not been going well for Sasuke. It started with being roped into attending a celebration with his batchmates to commemorate their passing out from the police academy. His social battery had long since run out, but the day wasn’t over. His parents had invited him to their home to celebrate his graduation with their extended family. Unfortunately, the celebration with his classmates dragged on longer than anticipated, and he had ended up missing the train that would have taken him to his parents home. Now he was forced to board a different train instead, one that required him to deboard and connect to a different line midway, and he had to do it during the evening rush hour.

‘Just great.’

Standing cramped against the back of the compartment, Sasuke distracts himself on his phone and hopes for the journey to end as quickly as possible. Twenty minutes into the ride, he has drowned out all the nearby chatter, the announcements over the speakers, the screech of the train wheels slowing down to a stop. Then he feels it, the shift in the air.

As if his body already knows what his mind is yet to discover, his gaze lifts from his phone to the other end of the compartment where the people planning to deboard are crowding. And there she is, bright green eyes, looking at him.

He hears his heart thumping in his ears.

He sees the surprise in her eyes, along with the slightest tinge of hesitation. On instinct, Sasuke lifts his hand over the bobbing heads in the crowd, to show her the faded red fabric that he has held on to for the last eighteen years, and watches as the doubt in her eyes dissolves. But all too soon the crowd begins to move, pulling her along. He sees the panic building in her eyes, and he is already pushing through the crowd to reach her. The divide between them is just too wide though, and he can feel time slipping through his fingers like sand. He has felt this feeling before, though he was too young then to understand its gravity. The weight of watching the course of your life change before your very eyes, like a train shifting tracks, moving away from what could have been.

She must know he wasn’t going to make it too, because just as she is being swept through the doors, she turns around and shouts—

“Sakura!” —the answer to a question long unforgotten.

In the next moment, she has bled out with the crowd, the doors have closed, and all the air in the cabin has left with her.

Sasuke watches in agony as she gets further and further away, unmindful of the people around him staring at his crazed state. He races out of the train at the following stop and catches the next one headed in the opposite direction back to where he lost her. He steps foot on the platform and is overwhelmed with the desire to run in every direction at once, but despite all his searching, he doesn’t find her.

Exhausted, he plops down on a station bench. Despite everything, in his defeat there is a sliver of redemption.

‘She remembers.’

x

A chill cuts through the autumn air as Sasuke crouches behind the boxes piled in the warehouse, waiting for backup. What started as a low-stakes inspection of a tip-off evolved into a drug bust gone very wrong. Beside him, Juugo coordinated with the en-route backup while Sasuke kept lookout, monitoring the movements of the cartel as well as searching for Suigetsu and Karin, their two other officers who had splintered off early into their inspection.

"Ten minutes." Juugo confirms the status of the backup's arrival and Sasuke nods.

Just then there is a commotion, and Sasuke feels a chill run down his spine as one of the cartel members drags Karin out to the center of the room.

"Found her hiding behind the loading dock!" he announces. There is a brief pause of contemplation before a man, that Sasuke assumes is the kingpin, announces—

"Pack everything up, we're clearing out."

There is a flurry of activity as the men follow what they have been instructed. Sasuke grinds his teeth, but keeps his eyes trained on Karin.

"What do we do with her?" asks the man who dragged her in and is still keeping her arms pinned behind her.

The leader gestures to the man on his right, "Kill her. Put the body in one of the crates."

'Shit.'

The man nods, and Sasuke stiffens at the sound of the gun cocking.

He watches as tears stream down Karin’s face as she looks into the barrel of the gun. This time around, his feet want to remain rooted to the ground. There is no tug, no reckless abandon from his youth. But there is a sense of duty, and so, Sasuke leaves the sanctuary of his hiding spot and tackles the armed man to the ground. In no time at all, the entire warehouse springs into action, and multiple men launch themselves at him. Sasuke parries a blow from one, and maneuvers to throw the goon over his shoulder, while Juugo provides cover by firing from his spot behind the crates. In the distance, Sasuke can hear the sirens of police cars nearby, but each passing moment has slowed down to be an eternity long. From the corner of his eye, he sees Suigetsu use the cover of the chaos to pull Karin away from the action and he breathes a sigh of relief.

In the next instant there is a searing pain in his side, and whatever little relief he felt is replaced by agony. Though he is aware of exactly what has conspired, Sasuke doesn’t look down, because seeing where the bullet went through him would make everything a little too permanent. His knees hit the floor just as the warehouse fills up with an influx of police officers. The call of duty that pushed him this far finally eases up, and Sasuke ceases his struggle against his body and mind. Lying on the cold concrete floor, Sasuke offers a quiet apology to his family for the pain he is going to cause them, and in the final moments of his consciousness, he wonders if the afterlife will be small enough to go searching for green eyes.

x

“Paging all Emergency Medicine staff. Please report immediately to Trauma Bay One, I repeat—”

Sakura pauses mid-signature as the announcement blares over the speakers, right as her pager begins to beep. Quickly closing the chart she was working on, she sprints off in the direction of the trauma department.

Arriving on the scene, she runs up to the attending surgeon, “What’s going on?” she asks, out of breath.

“There was an encounter between the police and a drug cartel downtown. We are receiving multiple gunshot victims.” answers Tsunade, “Kenji take the first one, Sakura you’re in charge of the second, I’ll take the third.” she orders, just as the paramedics pull up to the bay.

The first gurney rolls in carrying a man bleeding from his leg, with his hand tied to the side of the stretcher with handcuffs. Sakura guesses he is one of the cartel members as Kenji breaks off to inspect his patient. The second gurney brings in Sakura’s patient, also in handcuffs, with a bullet in his shoulder and a deep gash across his forehead. Sakura runs to his side as they roll him towards the operating theater. Behind her she hears the third patient being rolled in.

“He is one of ours, he was shot during the encounter.” an accompanying police officer tells Tsunade.

She feels a familiar tug at her heart.

Turning around, she catches the briefest glimpse as the nurses roll him away, but it is enough. She is always looking for that face, after all.

Her heart sinks to her stomach.

x

As wakefulness slowly seeps into his consciousness, Sasuke struggles to remember where he is and what happened. Then the pain kicks in and all his memories resurface. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he takes in the harsh, clinical white of his hospital room ceiling, tethered to consciousness by the routine beeping of the machines he is hooked up to.

Near his abdomen is a lopsided sensation. On the side he was shot is a searing pain, the sensation of an open wound replaced by that of his skin being uncomfortably stretched and sown. On the other side is a dull, weighted pressure.

He looks down to see a figure in blue scrubs sitting by his bedside, head resting on his side, and a waterfall of pink across his middle. The pace of the heart monitor picks up.

Slowly, the slumbering form rouses, awakened by the broken rhythm of the beeping. Sasuke watches as her brows furrow, trying to hang on to the fading traces of sleep. Her eyelids take their time to open, and the wait as they flutter is utter agony. Then she glances up at him, and her eyes widen as realization dawns upon her. There it is, he thinks, that brilliant green.

“You’re awake.” she says, breathlessly.

Without waiting for a response, she lifts her head from his side and immediately he misses the pressure. She pushes back the chair she has been sitting in and jogs out of the room. His heart panics like a caged animal and he wants to call after her, but his throat is parched and no sound comes out. In a few moments she returns, and in her hands is a familiar red ribbon.

“They had to cut you out of your clothes to operate, but I thought you might want this back so I kept it.” she tells him as she places the ribbon at his bedside table and pours a glass of water. She brings it up to his lips and he hungrily drinks it up, relishing how it drowned the thorns in his throat.

“Thank you.” he says, voice still hoarse. She smiles lightly in response as she sets the glass back on the table, then settles back into the chair she had been occupying before.

There is a pause.

Much of him is still suspended in disbelief. All these years he spent looking, only to wake up to her suddenly by his side. He can see the turmoil in her eyes too, as she stares at him with a frown, biting her lip as she searches for something to say. What do you even say to someone you have spent your whole life searching for but know nothing about, he wonders.

“I waited,” she says abruptly, and then shrinks just a little, like she surprised herself by the confession, “at the train station, I mean” she adds, as if trying to lighten the intensity of what she said. They are still strangers after all. In his mind, the memory of an ‘Iloveyou’ screamed across a playground echoes back.

“Aa.” he nods in agreement, “I did too.”

‘At the station, at the playground, at every turn and intersection, in every crowd’ , but he leaves that part out.

She smiles the sweetest, softest smile, and he decides it was all worth it for this alone.

“I should go now, I have rounds.” she glances at the door, “I’ll let Tsunade know you’re awake, she’ll want to check on you.”

“But after my shift I could swing by with some dinner, if you’d like?” she asks bashfully, “It’s only hospital food, but I have some seasoning packets I keep in my locker that make it a little bearable. But if you want to rest instead that’s totally okay, you’ve been through a lot and—”

“Sakura” he interrupts her rambling, “Dinner sounds good.”

She beams, and it’s a brand new start.

x

“Who says ‘I love you’ to someone they just met?” he asks out of the blue.

They’re on the couch in the living room, in the apartment they’ve been sharing for the past two years. He is turned towards the TV while she is deep into a book, sitting with her back pressed into his side, legs thrown over the arm of the sofa.

She scoffs at his question.

“What kind of a battle-cry is ‘I’m not stupid’?” she challenges back.

When he doesn’t respond to her jab she cranes her neck to look back at him, and finds there is no mischief in his eyes, only a solemn intensity. She closes her book and sits up, turning around to face him fully.

“Hm.” she says as she ponders, “I’m not sure.”

“I just...felt something big.” she says, “It felt like you were slipping away before I even had a chance to hold on and I was desperate to make you understand what I was feeling— and love was the only thing that seemed big enough.”

He nods like he knows exactly what she means, and she smiles.

“Besides,” she says, throwing her arms around his neck and leaning in close enough to brush her nose against his, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Hn.” he gives her a sideways smile, and closes the distance between them.

Fin.

AN: A mediocre execution of the extraordinary @disquieted‘s beautiful story idea. Thanks my love! And happy SS month to everyone! I love this community so much and I am so excited to see what’s in store.

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

Previous | Next

[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

[ayamturd]

afraid│nihachu

summary: you wanted to explore the world above, and niki thought it best to bring the trinkets of the world to you 

warnings: none, only fluff

pairing: (requested) in-game origins!niki

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write, i’ve honestly been in the strongest angst mood lately but hopefully did justice to your request! (this was so cute as an idea)

also thank you for my first origin! request, ik the hype has faded at this point but this was still so fun to write and explore :)

wc: (3.1k) - m.list

“You’re staring again.”

“AHHH!” Whipping around, Niki gaped at Wilbur, his amused grin meeting her wide-eyed shock as she placed a hand to her heart, exhaling deep breaths to collect herself. 

He was phased through the ground, his neck barely peaking out of the soil until he fully emerged, his body transparent as the sun gleamed through him. 

She lifted her head, craning to see whether you noticed the both of them or not from behind the river bend, and smacked Wilbur as hard as she could once realizing they were in the clear. 

“What was that for,” Wilbur whined, pouting and simultaneously rubbing his now sore arm. Despite fuming, Niki’s deep glare barely fazed him as he began cackling at how upset she looked.

“Wilbur,” Niki spat out. He paid no attention to her tone and held his stomach in laughter, floating slightly above her. “Oh lighten up, will you?” 

He propped his face on his hands, smirking while looking down at her with a teasing voice. “It’s cute.”

She huffed in response, turning away from him with her arms crossed. “Shut up.”

“Awwww Niki,” he cooed. She refused to meet his eyes and stared down, swishing her tail in the water as it reflected on the afternoon sun.

“What do you want?” Wilbur groaned at her lack of play but leaned on his back, tilting his head backwards to see her as he hovered. “You really are no fun.”

As she turned to glare at him again, he giggled but continued to speak. “When are you finally going to talk to them?”

Sputtering at his question, Niki became flustered and tried to argue back, but she struggled with her words. “I do talk to them!”

He gave her a deadpan expression, a look of judgement from her defense as she furrowed her eyebrows in response. “I do!”

Sighing dramatically, Wilbur paid no attention to her pathetic excuse with a smile. His lack of retention angered Niki more. “Wilbur!”

“You are so whipped Niki, it’s adorable.” 

Niki pushed herself up and strived to hit him again, though Wilbur was fast enough and raised just out of her reach. Sitting on the bank with her tail still dipped in the water, she grumbled at his antics once more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hmmm, is that so?”

Niki paused, unsure if it was that obvious for him to point it out in such a manner. She became insecure to the thought, afraid that her small advancements were really that noticeable despite getting her nowhere. Her sudden silence made Wilbur’s smile fade, and he quickly picked up on her self-doubt.

“Don’t do that.” His tone was harshly blunt and broke Niki’s train of thought. 

“Do what,” she asked meekly. Glancing up at him through her hair, she looked back down into her lap before turning her head in the direction you were last. 

“Be afraid of the truth,” Wilbur stated. Floating down, he met her eye level and peered up at her. His expression, while serious, held a kind smile to encourage her of the fact while his eyes were soft. “You like them, Niki, and you shouldn’t be afraid of saying it.”

She sighed and tried to turn away, but he wasn’t having it and pulled her chin back gently. “Niki.”

“I know, I know.” Niki shook his hand off, shaking her head slightly and pushing his hand away while moving to hold her own arms, the makeshift hug a form of comfort to the idea. “I just- I’ve never had feelings like this like I do for them. It’s all so new.”

“And I understand that, but you shouldn’t be afraid to face something new. This of all things especially. You like them right?”

Although she was hesitant to admit so, she knew that it was true. It was beyond the truth for you made her smile and laugh like no one ever had, your small conversations and light banter always brightening her day and filling her heart with joy. She wasn’t scared to say she liked you, she was scared of saying it out loud and letting reality take its course.

“I do,” she murmured, a small nod following after. “I like them, yes.”

“They make you happy?” Another pause, but she responded more confidently in the smaller time frame than before.

“They do.”

“Then you should find ways to make them happy too!” Wilbur exclaimed. He rose his arms widely and grew excited from her admittance. Floating towards the grass again, he plucked a small flower from the ground and twirled it between his fingers, handing it to Niki after. “Show them how they make you feel because they matter to you and you care.”

“Well how am I supposed to do that?”

“Do what?” 

For the second time that day, Niki whirled around and was surprised to see you innocently swimming above the water surface. She was panicked, eyes wide, and turned to look at Wilbur, who coincidently was gone. The bitch.

She faced you again, smile anxiously forced wide as she greeted you.

“Y/n!” You smiled kindly to her, unobservant to her nervousness.

“Hello, Niki!” You swam closer to her and rested an arm against the shore line, your other hand placed on her tail. Her breathing hitched at the small contact, and she relaxed once you began rubbing her scales lightly.

“I saw you talking to Wilbur, how is he?” Glancing back to where he previous floated, Niki scowled in annoyance at the reminder of his sudden departure. 

“Fine, I’m sure. Still annoying when he wants to be.” She mumbled the last words, a frown briefly hung on her lips. You giggled helplessly to her small pout with a hand covering your mouth. While obscured by your hand, Niki practically melted from the sound.

“How are you?” you asked after finishing your small fit. Niki blushed uncontrollably from how intense your eyes looked, the light of the sun catching on the hues of your iris; the sight alone was beautiful to her. 

“I- I’m alright, I’m great.” Always around you.

“That’s good, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.” Concerned over the matter of fact, you leaned closer to Niki and absentmindedly stroked her tail again with your thumb, the movement endearing yet almost unconscious. “I was concerned something happened.”

Coughing slightly to gather herself, Niki cleared her throat from her flush while waving a hand upward. 

“O-oh, no everything’s okay. I was helping Wilbur with his house yesterday, he was trying to finish the living space but Tommy and Tubbo kept messing things up. Now that I think of it, I was more of a mediator than actual help.”

Chuckling loudly to her engrossed ranting, you interrupted Niki’s explanation and had to hunch over in pain, arms wrapped around your waist while you tail flicked hastily below. 

You laughter was contagious, and soon Niki joined in with her own, the sound fading into faint snickering that melded together in an alluring symphony. 

Eventually as you both stopped, however, your smile dimmed. Niki’s fell as well once noticing your sudden drop in mood, and she tapped your shoulders from the unexpected shift. 

“Y/n?” Niki slid into the water, the cold temperature difference from staying above making her shiver, yet she paid no mind to it, her attention solely on you. “What’s wrong?”

Realizing you let your thoughts show, you tried to pretend nothing happened, smiling dismissively to your previous frown and placing a hand on Niki’s that she held on your shoulder. Your attempts, unfortunately, were futile since your reassurance barely covered for the lack of joy in your eyes. That, and the fact that Niki could read more than you thought.

“It’s nothing really, I’m-” a humorless laughed escaped you as you aimed to convey your feelings. “I’m honestly so jealous of you.”

Niki’s mouth feel agape in disbelief and confusion. “Me?”

Tilting your head back with genuine laughter, you nodded. “Yes, you.” 

“I’ve never been able to see the things landers make or do, it’s so intriguing to hear about. I just can’t help but want to see those things beyond this tiny pond.” While you had turned to face Niki, your eyes were trained downward, with a disheartened smile. 

Niki immediately tried to cheer you up, hating the idea of anything trivial upsetting you overall. “I could introduce you to my friends if you like? They’re very nice people, no matter how chaotic I make them sound.” It was her turn to be affectionate as she brushed her hand over yours while your tails nearly wrapped around each other.

You gave another sad smile at her attempt, but appreciated her efforts nonetheless. “That’s really sweet, Niki, but I wouldn’t want to meet and burden them simply because of my own ambitions.”

Clinging onto the tips of her fingers, you squeezed them in reassurance. “Thank you, though. Ever the thoughtful you are, huh?”

Despite still hung over your downplayed emotions, Niki reddened from your words. As you looked above Niki at a flock of birds that flew overhead, she was suddenly faced with an idea. 

Formulating a plan and envisioning the hopeful outcome, Niki squealed unexpectedly, surprising you. She had no time to apologize, however, for her thoughts were running wild in anticipation. “I’m so sorry, but I actually need to go,” she voiced. 

You tried to answer, but through Niki’s blind eagerness, she didn’t hear you. She promptly pushed the fresh flower in your hand in replacement of her own, and wished you a farewell before diving into the water. 

With a scratch to your head, you lightly chuckled at how cute she was and lifted the flower up. Staring at the little tulip, you beamed and brought it towards your nose, smelling the aroma and kissing the petals softly. 

Waiting impatiently, Niki fiddled with the wet rope of the drawstring pouch. The moon was at high rise, the overcasting ray highlighting the empty landscape as all were asleep or safely tucked home. 

The air buzzed from the still night, yet Niki couldn’t help but feel unease despite the calm space. Before she could drive herself mad, you finally emerged from the dark water. 

“Good evening to you, Niki,” you joked. Swimming swiftly over to her, you glanced around the both of you and also noted the quiet. “It’s a gorgeous time to be awake.”

Although your words could have been interpreted as sarcastic, you meant anything but with a dazed tone and delighted appearance. Meeting her smile with your own, you spun in the water, taking in the cool breeze while lost in the starry night. 

“Not that I don’t love our hang outs, but why so late Niki? If you wanted to go star gazing, you could have said.” 

She laughed nervously, tugging on the small pouch in habit before holding it out to you. “No, actually, I- I wanted to give you this.”

Intrigued, you lifted the bag from her hands and held it against you as you opened it, letting out a gasp from the treasures all tucked together. Niki thought it best to explain herself. 

“I know you said you didn’t want to burden the idea, but I couldn’t help it and wanted for you to experience those things too, even if it’s only little things.” Gesturing to the bag you held, she pointed to the contents inside despite you lost to the beauty each item held. 

“I asked my friends to help gather things I thought you would enjoy. They’re not the most extravagant, but they all have their special charms.” 

“Niki…” Your voice was airy, barely above a whisper as you tried to comprehend her thoughtfulness. Too anxious for her own good, Niki continued to ramble.

“My friend Tommy, you know Tommy, he managed to trade for this dagger! The hilt has this small ruby in it if you look closely, but I like to think the whole craftsmanship of it is gorgeous. Oh and he also dumped in these things they use to eat! See this one here,” she dug in the open pouch for the metal utensils, lifting them individually to name them from what she was taught. 

“This one is called a ‘spoon,’ while this one is called a ‘fork.’ It’s pointy but isn’t sharp!”

“Niki-” She paid no mind to you and replaced the bag in your hands with the metal objects, her excitement overtaking her apprehension and wanting to explain them all.

“Now Phil, he gifted this lovely pocket watch. It tells the time without needing the sun! If you listen closely, you can hear this ticking noise from the gears that make it work, see?” She pushed the glowing locket near your ear, the soft mechanics working perfectly in motion. 

“He also enchanted it so the water won’t hurt it, water usually isn’t the best for their types of machines.” Niki handed you the watch carefully as she continued to talk. “He’s an Elytrian too! Very kind and wise, incredibly considerate.”

“That’s amazing, Niki, bu-”

“Ah, look at this!” Struggling to pull the wooden figurine out through the pouch opening, she yanked it out with a grunt, a smile quickly forming at its shape.

“It’s a duck! Tubbo is so cute and carved him himself, but wanted you to have him!” Holding him out, you grasped the smooth carving firmly with a grin, the animal admittedly adorable despite it’s oddly shaped body. “His name is Benson,” Niki exclaimed proudly.

You giggled fondly, patting the inanimate duck with your hands in spite how full they were. “Hello, Benson.”

“Oh and Ranboo!” Niki cried out. As she searched for his gift, you decided it best to interrupt. Or at least try to. 

“Niki, before that, I-” She began to mutter under her breath, frustrated with pulling his object out and distracted to your attempts.

“Niki.” 

“How did he even put this in here? It’s so bi-”

“Niki, love.”

Freezing from the endearment, she glanced at you with a sheepish smile. Although your adoring grin said otherwise, Niki was overwhelmed at the thought that she offended you some how. Before she could spew out apologies, you saw her slight panicked and acted quickly. 

Cradling all the gifts with one hand, you pulled her forward and kissed her, your hand holding her gently while caressing her cheek. She hummed out a sound of surprise, the noise muffled against your lips. 

While she was frozen for a few seconds, once the realization passed she relaxed completely from your touch, pulling you closer if it were humanely possible.  

All you both could feel was each other, the warmth that spread throughout your bodies a releasing high that drove passion and unenforced love free. You could have stayed there forever, you felt, just taking Niki in for all that she was, but chose to pull away; you wanted to see her.

Panting from the huge surge of emotions that passed, you both gazed into each other’s eyes in a mix of shock and intimacy never before shared or expressed.

Grabbing her hand, you lifted it to your mouth and pressed your lips firmly to her knuckles. “Thank you, Niki. You’re more than I could ever ask for.”

Unlike her past encounters, Niki didn’t turn away. She embraced your tenderness and accepted the burning warmth that encapsulated her for what it was and finally presented. 

She had nothing to hide anymore. She had nothing to fear anymore.

Bonus:

“Wait, what else do you have in the bag?”

You were both sprawled onto a large boulder, the rock perched slightly above the water surface in the middle of the lake. Considering the chill of the night and the cool touch of the stone, you were embraced in each other’s hold, arms strung together with hands intertwined. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Sitting up right, Niki pulled out all the objects in a pile and separated the ones you already saw in comparison to the others. She picked each one up as she explained. 

“This is called a tea kettle! I mentioned him before, but Ranboo found it while… digging (she didn’t know how to kindly say playing with dirt). It’s old but called an ‘antique’ because it’s rare!” Handing you the small pot, your finger grazed against the rusted metal in fascination of the discoloring and ancient beauty.

“Now these are sulfur crystals! Jack is from the nether so he collects a lot of them when he finds pure ones.” Lifting one towards the sky, you awed at the color that shined through it, the yellow hue soft yet vibrant under the moonlight glow. Reaching for one gently, you peered through the flat crystal with a giggle.

“They sometimes can smell really bad he said, but as long as we don’t mix it with other things like potions, we should be alright.” You hummed while still gazing through the clear solid. 

Enamored with the crystals, your attention was drawn back to Niki when you heard something chime. 

“I’m not sure why Wilbur thought it would be a good idea to gift these to us, but he thought it best to give us these things called jingle bells.” Shaking them once more, you were delighted to find they had a joyful-like sound, the light ringing noise something magnificent that you’ve never heard before underwater.

You played with them once Niki gave them to you, your smile wide from the new discovery and breathless to the music it sang. 

“Oh I didn’t realize he put one in.” 

“Who?” you asked, your eyes still on the small metal balls that reflected the moon in combination to the water surface. 

Niki sighed before stating with a smile, “Fragrance Man.”

You paused at the name, and turned towards her confused. “Fragrance Man?”

Nodding softly with an amused chuckle, Niki revealed the final item to you. It was a glass bottle, one typically used for potions, but held strange bundles all tied individually. 

“I think from the last time he showed me that these are called ‘sage bundles.’ You’re supposed to burn them for a stronger smell, but he might have put it in here since that last time I saw his collection, I liked smelling it from the bottle.”

Holding it out towards you, Niki uncapped the cork top for you to try. You leaned over and hovered your nose over the open neck, exhaling in captivation from the floral foliage and cooling sensation it brought. 

“Wow, Niki. This is all so amazing!” You had little to say to the collection of trinkets she assembled for you, still speechless to the effort she went through for you. 

“You’re friends sound so nice and thoughtful,” you hummed, reaching for her hand again and interlacing your fingers together.

Niki snorted at the thought but accepted your hand nonetheless. 

“They’re okay sometimes.”

[angxlyxn]

doll - villain! izuku x f. reader

summary: it’s certainly been a few years since you’ve seen izuku, and he’s planning the make the most out of your time together now that you’re back with each other.

warnings: NONCON, bondage, blood, kidnapping, there is a knife, slight voyeurism(?)

important: all characters are over the age of eighteen.

a/n: wow this piece took me over two months to write, it literally took me forever i’m so unbelievably glad that it’s finished.  i’m not entirely happy with it, especially the beginning part because i wrote it two months ago when i didn’t really know how to write fanfiction? but it’s okay, um the concepts are there so enjoy ig.

word count: ~5.3k

The first thing that you noticed upon waking up was the methodical dripping of water above you.  Each droplet was landing just shy of your face, the cold water splashing up against your features.  Cold.  That seemed to be the word of the day.  Beneath you, there was a slab of freezing cement, its moist chill seeping off of it and onto your shaking frame.  

You raised your heavy head, matted hair falling in front of your face as a sharp, immobilizing pain shot through your skull.  You moved the tangled locks from your vision, your hand landing on the back of your head in the process.  When you brought your fingers back around, they were slick with a sticky crimson substance.  As you stared at your fingers, dumbstruck and utterly confused at the...liquid that was coating them, you grew acutely aware of a dull clinking ringing out with each of your movements, and noticed a pair of shackles that were wrapped around each of your wrists.  You tugged a bit on the chains, lurching your body away from the wall that you were attached to as you tried to decipher the situation that you were in right now, to no avail, of course.  This was far too sudden and much too confusing to understand.  How did you even get...wherever you were in the first place?  Why were you here?

Your ears rang out, an amalgamation of horrible chiming sounds flooding your mind.  You tried, and failed to recall the events that had led up to you finding yourself in this revolting state, much to your chagrin.

“Oh, you’re finally awake!”  A cheery voice rang out, the words disproportionately buoyant in comparison to the bleak environment that surrounded you.  You looked up, vision blurring as you turned your head in the direction of the effervescent voice.  

You nearly gasped as you caught sight of the figure in front of you, your eyes scanning frantically over his disheveled green locks, his pale skin standing out in contrast to the visible blush lining his freckled cheeks.

“M-Midoriya?” You responded, your voice uneven, your horribly shaky pronunciation reflecting your bodily state perfectly.  

“Izuku,” he corrected.  He pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on, slowly making his way towards your trembling form.  You hadn’t seen the green-haired boy since he had disappeared entirely from your life, on that fateful day back in junior-high.  You had honestly thought he had offed himself or something after Bakugou had told him those horrible things, and you had mourned for days, for months, for years over the loss of your childhood friend.  You and Izuku had always been close, and you assumed that it was your shared weakness that had brought you together.  While he was born quirkless, you were born with a quirk that might as well have been non-existent.  An empathic quirk was what they had called it, one that gave you the ability to absorb others’ emotions and relieve them of their feelings, while you would be able to take on their sensitivities in exchange for the relief that you gave them.  You had always seen it as useless, everyone had.  And a few people, including your own parents, had always found a way to make it clear to you that you were just this.  Useless.  

However, you had still made it into UA, on account of nothing more than your grades, of course.  People had marvelled at your acceptance, talking about how progressive it was of UA to let in someone as weak as you, even though you had only made it into general studies.  It wasn’t like you really wanted to work in heroics anyways, but still, it had hurt a bit when you had to bid farewell to some of your friends from middle school, who were pursuing the hero path.  By friends, of course, you meant Katsuki.  As strange as it was, you, Midoriya, and him had always been together, well, in your own ways.  You really had no idea why Izuku was still latched on to the ill-tempered blonde, and at times wished he would just let go of his hold on the boy.  Countless times you had told him to just stop making contact with Katsuki, as their time together never seemed to end well, but he wouldn’t ever take heed of your advice. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of unspoken competition between them, besides their constant debate over Izuku’s quirklessness, which admittedly led to most of the dissents.  It was weird.  They were always at each other’s throats, and almost every time they fought you would be there, if only to defend Midoriya.  You were protective over him- anyone would be after witnessing the torment that he so frequently endured from Katsuki and others.  

So when the news had come that he was declared missing, you were in absolute pieces.  When your mother had come into your room to tell you that this, you swore you felt your heart shatter then and there.  Nothing could keep you from blaming yourself.  No matter how much others tried to tell you otherwise, whether it be therapists, friends, parents, or even Katsuki himself, you just couldn’t believe them.  You should’ve done more to help the green-haired boy, you should’ve helped him.  You could’ve stood up to Bakugou more, or done anything at all to aid him.  You always had seen yourself as selfish, which was why it was such a surprise when the king of ego himself told you otherwise.  

You remembered it clearly: You were nearing the end of your first semester at UA, still completely distraught about Izuku’s disappearance.  A stern knocking had rang through your apartment, causing you to look up from your stack of textbooks with weary eyes.  You pushed yourself off of the couch, making your way to the door and flinging it open, squinting as your eyes met the slouching form of the person in front of you.  He wasted no time, just walking into your apartment with a confident, yet defensive stride.  Immediately, the person, who you now recognized to be Katsuki, had made a beeline to your couch, and was sitting upon the charcoal-colored cushions that adorned it.  You just started at him, mouth slightly agape as he looked back at you, gaze perfervid and intense.  

“Well, get over here,” He had spat, gesturing for you to join him on the couch.  You hurriedly did as he asked, his eyes following your form as you made your way over to him.  He had let out a short breath, his eyelids falling slightly downwards as he looked at your unkempt appearance.  After a few moments of silence, he spoke.  “It’s not your fault, you know.  That damn nerd shouldn’t have done this.  It’s his fault, you hear me?”  He had said, voice as gravelly as ever.  However, it seemed that there was a bit of… something else behind his words, like a small piece of his defensive front was crumbling away in front of your very eyes.  

“I- I don’t-”  You responded in a frail voice.  

“Everyone else- they don’t think so either.  I hate to admit it but, you… fuck.  You’re a good person, Y/n.”  Your shoulders jerked upwards a bit at his use of your first name.  “You can’t feel guilty for what that fucking extra did.”

You stayed silent, eyebrows furrowing gently at his conciliatory words.  

“Fuck,” he mumbled, barely audible.  He looked back up to you.  “I just…” You could tell that he was moving to say something, his gaze downcast and contemplative.  He looked back up at you, his eyes landing on your face.  “I…”  You leaned slightly towards him, urging him to speak.  You had never seen Katsuki so… quiet.  He was quite literally speechless, the environment around you two extremely tense due to his wordlessness.  He shifted his eyes, looking over your frame intently.  His gaze caught on the area near your clavicle, and before you could say anything about his strange behavior, he spoke once more.  

“Your collar,” he grunted.  You looked down at yourself, staring at your crumpled uniform that you hadn’t changed out of in days.  You raised your eyes back up to him, sending him a questioning glance.  “It..” he said, clenching his hands a bit as his eyes still stayed trained on your collarbone.  

He reached out two tentative hands, taking your shirt collar between his slender fingers.  You remember your complete state of shock as he had adjusted your shirt, snapping the top few buttons into place and smoothing down the fabric.  After he had finished, it was like he had snapped out of some sort of stupor, jumping away from you and retracting his hand into his chest.  He had left a bit after that, a light blush still coating your cheeks long after he made his departure.

As weird as it sounds, that was the beginning of your relationship with Katsuki.  You grew to like each other, him growing somewhat emotionally dependent on you while you relied on him to keep your more self-destructive tendencies in check.  The two of you really were a sight, though.  The soft, gentle curve of your features in contrast to Bakugou’s angular ones was enough to garner a few stares, and if that weren’t enough, there were the differentiations in mannerisms and personality to set you apart even further.  But you supposed that opposites do in fact attract, at least in your case.

Goodness, before you even had time to register what was happening your thoughts had drifted over to the blonde, which wasn’t really an uncommon occurrence.  You could only hope that he thought about you as much as you thought about him.  Of course you two were dating and all, so it was only natural that he should, but still, you couldn’t help but feel just a bit of anxiety about not actually being wanted or needed by the boy.  As much as he would reassure you that he did need you, that he loved you, part of you just couldn’t believe him.  A bit of you always had a feeling that he would leave you, just as Izuku did.  Maybe you were just insecure, but still.  You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted someone stronger, or better than yourself.  You hadn’t ever been surprised when others wanted someone else.  

You weren’t ever surprised when you were second choice.  

On that note, you brought yourself back to reality, the sound of water dripping from the ceiling still grating against your ears.  You refocused your eyes, which had glazed over during your train of thought, only for your now active gaze to land on a person who happened to be situated directly in front of you.  You groggily looked up once more, your worried eyes meeting the face of Izuku, who looked oddly infatuated with you.  Why, you did not know.  All you were able to register was how his doting eyes were dancing over your whole frame, making you squirm a bit in your spot.  

“Mi- I mean..Izu-Izuku…” you mumbled as you looked up at him, pushing yourself up so that you were nearly face to face with the green-haired boy.  “Wh-What’s going on, I.. don’t understand…”  

“Oh doll,” he said, the pet name rolling off of his tongue in a sickeningly sweet manner.  “I just helped you do a little relocation, that’s all!  I know you’re probably scared, and confused, but don’t worry!  I’m not here to hurt you, understand?”  He said, reaching a hand out to caress your cheek gently.  You drew away from him sharply at the feeling of his calloused fingers against your skin, instinctively bringing your hands up to your face.

“Hey, don’t flinch away from me now, come on!  We’re friends, aren’t we?”  He said, his tone growing bitter as he spat out the last sentence.  

“I...guess,” you mumbled, still too disoriented to make a coherent sentence.  “But why.. The chains..?”  Izuku looked slightly taken aback at your query, rising up from his kneeled position, and instead settling for standing in front of you.  

“Just a precaution,” he said, his tone infantilizing.  “I can’t have you two running away now,” he finished, smiling.  

“T-two?”  You asked, attempting to search his eyes.  His green orbs were full of adoration towards you, but his pupils seemed to swirl with a bit of malice as he continued to stare at you.  He hummed in response to your question, bringing his hand up to your cold cheek.  He gently pressed his fingers into your skin and manually shifted your head to the left, your eyes drifting towards the other side of the room.

Low and behold, there was indeed another person.  And the venomous look on his face accompanied by a mess of ash blonde hair was enough to tell you who this second person was.  His frame was wrapped in restraints, his arms suspended above his head and his clenching fists encircled by thick shackles.  He kicked and struggled against the chains, the clinking sound of them ringing out across the room like a series of cathedral bells.  

“Katsuki!”  You yelped, the word ripping from your lips as you began to pull against the chains binding your own body, feverishly pushing yourself to try and reach your lover.  Izuku leapt towards you before you could really go anywhere, latching himself onto your shoulder and pulling you backwards.  

“Now puppy, don’t get aggressive!”  He said in a tone that was far too sweet and much too jubilant.  He rubbed his palm against your shoulder as though he were coaxing a child, nestling his chin against your cheek as he did so, all the while looking at Bakugou with hazy eyes.  

“No!” You cried.  “I don’t know what you’re planning right now, but you left us for years and now you-you’re back, and you haven’t explained anything and I just can’t trust you an-and why are we in chains?  And for fuck’s sake get off of me, at least until you explain yourself!”  You punctuated your sentence with a shove to his shoulder, a twinge of guilt pumping through your veins as you did so.

He fell backwards a bit, his gaze downturned and his face darkened.  His eyes swirled with animosity as he stared down at the floor with furrowed brows, his fists clenching a releasing a few times over.  

“Please,” you said, your voice softer.  “Explain.  You just... left.  I need to know why.”

He continued to stare down at the floor with an uncomfortable amount of determination, green eyes scanning the tile before slowly beginning to lift back up to meet your unsteady gaze.  His face was serious as he bored his eyes into yours, his pupils full of pure animosity.  A few moments of silence passed, and then he began to laugh.

He was laughing.

His green eyes glinted with jubilance as he looked at you through the dark shadow clouding his face, his hand coming up to rake through the mop of green tufts on his head.

“Why?”  He said between giggles.  “I think you know the answer to that one, love!”  He said, still chuckling.  You looked at him wildly, gaze skittish and horrified.  

You began to speak, raising your trembling voice over his laughter.  “Izu, you don’t understand, we thought that you ki-”

“Killed myself?”  He said, his laughter dying down.  He clicked his tongue before continuing, nuzzling himself back into your shoulder, the action earning a few muffled screams from the blonde restrained at the other end of the room.  “You’ve got it all wrong puppy!  I would never dare leave you like that, doll.  I just saw an opportunity and took it.  You would’ve done the same darling, I know you would’ve.  Although, I think if you did leave me like that, I would kill myself.”  He remarked, his voice far too exuberant for the weighty contention.  You shivered as you slipped out of his grip, pushing your arms out in front of you to try and hinder the touches of the sensitive boy.  

“No, Izuku this is weird, I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.  Th- This isn’t you.  And we were never t..together, so I don’t understand why you're touching me and calling me these names and I- I still don’t know what you mean by this ‘opportunity’, or why the hell you’ve kidnapped me and Katsu, and I’m bleeding-”

Midoriya hummed, the warm sound cutting you off.  “Ah-ah!  You’re talkative today, huh?  So many questions!”  He said in a lilting voice.  “Why don’t we ask Katsu what he thinks about everything!”  The boy continued, his use of your nickname for the blonde making you cringe.  “He always was more articulate than you.”

He heaved himself off of the floor next to you, making his way over to an erratic Bakugou.  The chains above his head rattled as he kicked against the restraints, the gag shoved into his mouth growing damp as he relentlessly screamed into it.  

As he approached Katsuki, Izuku whipped a knife out of his pocket, the blade flicking out as he continued to walk towards him.  You gasped at this, yelling out as the greenette continued to walk away from you.

“No, Izuku don’t hurt him!  Leave him alone!”  You screamed, tugging on your chains once more and pushing yourself towards the unstable boy.  Much to your terror, Izuku disregarded your words, instead moving to stand behind Bakugou.  He threaded his hand through the taller boy’s locks, grasping onto them and pulling backwards as he pointed his knife at his neck.  

“Izuku, sto- aUGH!”  You yelped in anguish as you reached out towards the pair, only to fall forward and hit your already sensitive head against the unforgiving pavement.  You looked up helplessly as he flicked the knife between his pinky and ring finger, using the digits that were previously holding the blade to untie the cloth that sat in the boy’s mouth.

Immediately, he began to scream, as expected.  “You damn extra!  What the hell are you trying to do!  I always knew you were fucking weird, but you really are an absolute fucking creep!  You know, you shoulda just killed yourself, got it?”

“Katsuki!  No, you’re going to make him mad or-“ You were cut off once again by a shrill laughter, the horrible sound grinding against your ears.

“You always were so straight-forward Kacchan!  Still haven’t lost your fire after all these years have you!”  He said, his speech diluted with giggles.

“Stop laughing and let us go you little fucker!”  He growled in response.

Midoriya hummed before continuing.  “No, no no!  N/n over there has something I want, and I don’t plan on letting you two free until I get it,”  He returned in a crazed voice.  

“Huh?  What the hel-“

“What do you want,” you began, your voice ragged.  “I’ll give you whatever you need just- at least let him go.”  Bakugou looked at you in disbelief, yet he stayed silent as his eyes desperately searched your face.  Izuku made a show of looking over at you, turning his gaze towards your kneeling figure as a nefarious grin spread across his face, his eyes shining dangerously as he looked down at your vulnerable form.  

“Hmm...interesting proposition, but unfortunately Kacchan over here is essential to the whole thing!  But I will take you up on your offer to take whatever I need, although I was going to do that anyways,” He said as he stuffed the cloth back into the blonde’s mouth.  He peeled himself off of Katsuki, and with a flick of his wrist, the blade that he was grasping was closed.  

“Alright then doll, let’s have some fun hm?”  The chartreuse-headed boy had begun to stroll towards you, his leisurely pace matching the speed at which he had begun to unbutton the clasps that held his silken vest together.  Your eyes widened exponentially as you realized what was happening, and you began to scramble backwards, pushing yourself towards the other end of the room as far as you could go.  You knew that your struggles would be in vain, but you still inched away from him, covering your chest in hopes that what you thought was happening wouldn’t be the case.  The cold chains cut into your wrists as you strained against them, the harsh metal not allowing you to move further than a few feet away from the approaching boy.  Yet you still struggled, kicking and yelling as he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, the collar falling open and revealing his delicate clavicle.  You still tried to push away from him, your efforts fruitless.  

A harsh pain shot through your ankle as Izuku clamped his booted foot around it, effectively stilling your leg and keeping you in place.  He hopped down onto you, pressing his thighs into yours as he straddled your waist.  Nimble hands glided over your shirt, easing the buttons out of their holes and pulling the button-up off of your torso.  At this point you had given up on screaming, settling for mumbling out hysterical pleas and whimpers, your palms uselessly pushing against Izuku’s chest.  Bakugou’s screams were white noise to your ears, the horrible ringing in your skull blocking out everything else and making you feel as though you were underwater, eyes glazing over as the world around you grew faded.  

A sharp tug on your hair brought you back from your moment of disassociation, the hand pulling against your locks belonging to none other than Midoriya himself.  

“Come on darling, pay attention to me!  No one likes a dumb, quiet doll!”  He whined as he slipped a hand under the waistband of your skirt, pulling the fabric off of your hips and exposing your lacy undergarments.  From there the green-haired boy wasted no time, running his hands over your soft stomach and marveling at the way his fingers left little indents in the skin whenever he pressed down.  Little mumbles floated from his mouth, the way they used to do when you were kids and he would rant to you about heroes or something of the sort.  It was almost enough to make you nostalgic, if your brain hadn’t caught on to the words that let you know he was talking about you.  His eyes shimmered as they caught onto the terrified expression on your face, his arousal growing as he looked upon the vulnerable state he had managed to put you in.  

You decided to plead with him one last time, hoping that maybe a few tears and stutters would make him stop.  “Izuku, p-please, sto-p,” you said, a few of your salty teardrops rolling down into your mouth as you spoke.  He just grinned at you, eyebrows turning downwards as one of his hands drifted to his visible erection.  The screams of Bakugou and your own cries muddled together in your ears as he slipped his belt off and hurriedly took out his cock, palming it rather roughly as he looked down at your limp form, sadism shining in his green orbs as he did so.  He didn’t do anything to prepare you, instead leaving you to stare up at him through eyes clouded with tears, watching and waiting on the inevitable to happen.  And it happened.  Before you could even register it, he had pulled your panties aside, shoving his length in and eliciting a tearful cry from you.  Katsuki screamed in sync with you, his smothered shouts ragged and uneven as he looked at the scene before him.  Midoriya rutted into you, his thrust holding far too much power as he penetrated your dry insides, your hands clenching and another scream falling out of your mouth as the uncomfortable pain spread through your lower abdomen.  You looked over his shoulder at Katsuki, a fresh batch of tears spilling from your eyes as you looked at him.  The blonde looked utterly desperate, hot tears rolling down his reddened cheeks as muffled screams continued to rip from his throat.  Despite your pleadings and Bakugou’s impotent threats, Midoriya continued to thrust into you, the force of his length pouring on and on and causing choked sobs to gush out of you, the pitiful sounds falling on deaf ears.  

“Agh, doll, you’re so tight~!  Did Kacchan seriously never take care of you?”  He mused.  In truth, he never had.  But that was your fault, really.  You had said you wanted to wait, and that you didn’t want to run the risk of any accidents happening.  Part of that was truthful, but you were also just...scared.  Scared of what could happen.  And every time that you would even begin to consider having the ash blonde take you, the voice of Izuku himself always seemed to take over, and you would always begin to imagine how worried he would be for you, and how he would disapprove.  Of course he wouldn’t have ever told you these things, he never was very assertive, and you really had no reason to believe that he would control you like that, but part of your desperate self just wanted to hold onto him when he was presumed to be dead, and still would allow his voice to run through your mind whenever you made decisions and such.  In truth you shouldn’t have let your perception of him control your life, but you really couldn’t help it.

You just had missed him...that was all.  

Now you regretted all those months that you spent thinking about him, the sleepless nights where you couldn’t get your mind off of the boy.  In any case, it seems that even he didn’t care about whether you stayed pure as he ruthlessly fucked you.  You felt a bit of blood fall from your abused cunt from the friction, a sick glee filling him up as the crimson fluid lubed up his length.  He was your first, he was the first one to ravage you and have a piece of you and you would always remember him as long as you lived.  He was going to make sure of that.  

“Nghh- doll,” he began, his voice lewd and uneven, his sultry tone matching the lust in his half-lidded eyes perfectly.  “You’re just so p-perfect, I don’t- ah! Don’t know w-hy I didn’t take you sooner!”  He said between groans.  You weren’t sure whether he was talking kidnapping you or fucking you, but at this point you didn’t care.  At the moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to think or care about anything.  Your mind was too far gone for that, your body drowning in both ecstasy and pain.  Izuku latched his mouth onto your exposed collarbone, biting and licking at it until dark purple splotches littered your silky skin.  Bakugou’s smothered screams began to die out, fading from your ears as your mind grew fuzzy, your thoughts fixating only on the pressure that was steadily heightening in your core.  A particularly loud howl erupted from his throat, causing the green-haired boy to dig his teeth further into you.  He bit down with a huge force, his sharp canines digging into the skin on your clavicle yet again.  A bit of blood poured from where he had bitten, the fluid dripping down your chest as he raised his head up from your torso.  You didn’t miss the subtle way that his lips quirked upwards, malice swirling in his telling green orbs.  He leaned down once again, a yelp falling from your trembling lips as he swiped his warm tongue against the wound.  He drew his appendage back into his mouth, licking his lips and spreading the blood onto the blush pink area around his maw.  “Agh~ You taste so wonderful, d-doll!”  He groaned, causing you to shutter.  His thrusts grew in pace as he threw his head back, pain shooting through you as they became harder and faster.  He cut into you with each stroke, an involuntary moan leaving your mouth as he heightened his pace.  He smiled down at you as the sound fell from your lips.  The grin was childish, his lips quirking upwards in a way that looked far too innocent compared to your current situation.  

Everything grew dimmer and dimmer as you approached your climax.  Izuku seemed to be nearing his too, if the uneven jolts of his body and loud groans were any indication of such.  The pressure built even more as you tried to keep it down, the continuous stimulation proving to be far too much for your inexperienced body.  With one final stroke you tipped over the edge, cunt growing hot and fluttery as you convulsed around Izuku’s length.  He pulled out of you right before his own climax, settling for releasing himself all over your creamy thighs.  You continued to cry through it all, hot tears pouring down your face and reddening your already flushed cheeks.  

You heard Katsuki scream out roughly from beside you.  The sound was muted.  You felt as though you had been shoved under water, a thick blanket of silence coating your ears as you laid on the rough cement, body heaving and broken.  

You felt so confused and so hopeless, the world felt utterly despaired.  

The only clarity that came to you presented itself in the form of Izuku’s manic laughter, the horribly shrill giggles pouring over your limp frame.  A click of a belt and the green-haired boy was put back together, sweat gleaming on his flushed cheeks and hair splayed about his head like a halo.  Although, he was no angel.  Not in the slightest.  

You coughed as tremors overtook your body.  You just felt so goddamn pathetic.  

That was all that you were.  

You faintly felt the sensation of arms hooking underneath your own, strong hands pulling you towards a wall and propping you up against it.  You were facing Katsuki now, and you were finally given a good look at his face.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore.  You had never seen him show so much raw emotion before in your entire life.  He was despondent, his wrists limp and his mouth quiet.  The gag on his face was damp with tears and spit, his jaw hanging slack as a few stray teardrops fell from his reddened eyes.  Nothing about him even looked human.

And yet still, you could hear Izuku laughing.  He approached the boy with heavy footfalls, boots clicking against the floor until he stood before him.  One of his hands shot out and harshly gripped the blonde’s jaw, the other moving to undo the gag.  The cloth hung loosely around his neck after he had taken it off, but Katsuki did not even spare a word.  His gaze was weathered as he glared into Izuku’s gleeful eyes, crimson hues staying trained on the boy even as Midoriya turned towards you and began to speak.  

“Well that was fun, wasn’t it doll!  I can’t believe that I was your first!”  He said, his voice still enthusiastic, albeit breathy.  “I’m never, ever letting you leave after that!  Ah, you’re just so perfect!”  You just stared at him with as much resentment as you could muster.  “And initially the plan was to kill Kacchan over here, but I think I’ll keep him too!”  You perked up at the mention of the blonde, lips parting and eyes growing more defensive and you stared at the boy.  “I think he’ll be able to help us in the future, hm?  It’ll be fun, I promise!”  He said, voice exhaustingly juvenile.  

“We’ll be just like one big happy family!”

[yoichichi]

To Call You Mine

college!tsuki x reader series

Ch. 2 - ew, small talk

warning(s): Tsukishima’s behavior 😐

a/n: I’m happy you guys seemed to really enjoy the introductory chapter!! I hope you enjoy this one just as much, and more tsuki content!! Ahhh I’d love to hear your thoughts per usual, and enjoy !! <3

ch. 1

“So, why d-“

“Thanks for-“

Oh my god.

At this point you’d rather have a failing grade than have to keep talking to this guy.

Maybe it was just the fact you’ve felt like you’ve made a fool of yourself about 59 million times, but you were officially over it.

Tsuki leaned back into his chair with that same smirk he gave you earlier, raised eyebrows and all. You’re starting to wonder if that’s maybe just how his face rests.

“No no, go ahead. You first.” His voice was quiet and monotone, very appropriate for the setting, not so much for your nerves.

The way he held himself was, interesting. You know it’s only been maybe 5 minutes since you’ve met which is most definitely not enough time to start making any kind of assumptions about a person, but with the air around him so tense and serious, how could you not?

You could see his legs were just slightly spread in his seat, as far as it would allow it. And instead of doing the casual thing and resting his head in his hand while he waited for you to speak, it was tilted just slightly upward. Chin just barely jutting out at you, head leaning to the left just a tad. His forearms rested on the arms of the chair rather than the table, too.

Everything about his body language said, go on, I’m waiting for you to answer me. Rather than, go ahead, I’m listening.

It made your nerves congregate in your throat and made it difficult for you to speak.

He does not need to be making me this nervous.

You fiddled with the clicker of your pen as you began to speak, doing your best to keep your nervous fidgeting to a minimum. There should be no reason he should have such a knack for making you feel this way, he’s a random guy who takes your same calculus class. Regardless of the way he seems to carry himself, he’s nothing more than that. Some guy.

Besides, he probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. He just has one of those, faces.

“I was just gonna say thanks for agreeing to help me out. Even if it is so early.” You chuckled lightly and brought your hands up to rest on the top of the table.

Enough fidgeting.

“You’re welcome.” Another monotone reply.

You smiled thinly as you waited for him to continue his sentence, cause surely he wasn’t done.

….

Really?

You sat in another few moments of silence while he sighed and looked down at the open pages of his textbook, unable to tell if he was being serious.

“Alright. Why don’t we start with talking about the last lesson you felt most confident in understanding, okay?”

He was being serious.

“Yeah, sure.” You sighed and took a glance down at your notes.

A long hour indeed.

—

It hasn’t even been 20 minutes, yet you’re already starting to get a better grasp on bits of the material you couldn’t even begin to comprehend just a few hours earlier. It certainly isn’t enough to be rid of a tutor, but enough to know you were referred to him for a reason.

Maybe his aloof attitude was worth it.

“Well, that explains why I couldn’t get the numbers to plug in right on that next weird step of the equation. And why it looked so funky when I tried to illustrate the graph. God, that’s a lot.” You stated matter of factly, dumbfounded at how easy he was making this all seem.

“Go ahead and try these other problems from the back of the book, and then we’ll go over what you get after. And if you get stuck just ask. I’m gonna work on some other homework in the meantime.”

His voice had more lilt to it now. Maybe it was because his own version of morning grogginess had warn off. Or he could’ve been just as nervous as you at first. Regardless, you appreciate he seems to be less stiff than when you first percieved him.

You nodded your head and immediately got to work. Having a sudden epiphany about the content was definitely a boost to your motivation to get it done.

He chuckled softly to himself at your eagerness and got started on his own work.

It was nice, actually.

The next few minutes were quiet, but they weren’t awkward. The pair of you having your own focus on the work at hand, merely keeping each other company at this point with the soft scribbles of pencil against paper. That was until you had a question of course.

You looked up to ask him a question but almost felt bad for interrupting him, you could tell he was really focused.

His head was turned downward slightly making his glasses slide farther down the bridge of his nose. His fingers, which you noticed were slightly scuffed up, looked like they were gripping his pen so delicately no matter how fast he was writing. Your eyes followed the trail from his hand up to his shoulder, past the tendons twitching in his forearms at each flick of his wrist, and past his lean yet distinctly toned bicep.

Your gaze stopped on his shoulder when his other hand reached over to squeeze at the apparently tender spot, watching him roll it a few times before he leaned back down to write some more.

His jaw seemed tight, maybe he was having a tough time with this particular class he was working on. Or maybe it was because he appeared to be sore from, something. Taking in his physique and condition of his hands, you decided it wouldn’t be surprising if a sport was what was straini-

“Are you stuck?”

Your eyes shot over just a bit to look directly at his face, realizing you were staring and he probably assumed you needed help, which technically you did.

He was looking up at you above the top of the frame of his glasses and through his eyelashes, eyes just slightly wider than usual as he waited for you to answer.

You had to admit, he was a pretty guy.

“Yeah, kinda. This integral just isn’t clicking for me, I don’t really know where to start.” You held your stare on his face as he leaned in closer to reach over and flip your notebook around, taking a peek at your work thus far.

He hummed almost silently to himself before he spoke up, realizing what was confusing you.

Hm, he smells kind of minty. But not toothpaste minty more like, organic clean minty. Or maybe that’s eucalyptus I’m smelling? I wonder if it’s a cologne or if he just showered before he got here. Jesus, how early would he have to get up to shower before he got here? Cause his hair wasn’t even wet when - well, was it? I could’ve mis-

“Make sense?”

You blinked once, hard, as you internally chastised yourself for being a bit of a creep as you sat analyzing his smell rather than listen to what he had to say.

Nodding your head you stared back down at your paper, contemplating how you were gonna pretend to do better with an equation you didn’t even know where to begin.

“Oh, thank you for agreeing to meet so early, by the way.”

His words caught you off guard as you looked up to see his nose still buried in his work, but his mouth moving.

“I have a team practice in a couple hours and I’m already tutoring someone else afterwards, and this was the only free time I had before your next class.” He looked up at you and offered the tiniest of smiles.

So he did do a sport.

“What do you play?” You asked, genuinely intrigued to know the answer.

His height definitely made him look like a basketball kind of guy, no, you’d know if he played basketball. Maybe soccer.

“Oh, I’m on the volleyball team.” His hand kept its steady pace at writing down notes in his notebook, not even sparing you a glance when he answered.

“Oh wow. How long have you been playing?” You rested your head in your hand, patiently waiting for his response. It was nice to talk about something besides math for a little bit.

“Mmm, I’ve been playing for a good amount of time. This is my first year on the team though, so not long with them I guess. Do you play any sports?” He set his pen down now, rolling his neck out with his eyes closed, leaning back in his chair and waiting for your response this time.

“No, I don’t. My boyfriend plays basketball, though.”

His eyes opened and locked onto yours for a brief moment before looking back down onto that god forbidden work. It was silent for just a second, an unexplainable tension quietly passing between the two of you, so fast you almost missed it, before you spoke up again.

“He’s a sophomore though, so, a little more familiar with his team you could say.” You smile fondly and let out a small chuckle, doing your best to keep the flow of the conversation going,

“He-“

“Hm, nice.” He let out a deep breath and gingerly placed a hand on your notebook, as if he was unaware he cut you off just now, and continued to speak.

Maybe this wasn’t the time for getting to know each other, then.

“Let’s take a look at what you’ve gotten done so far, yeah?”

—

It’s been three days since you last had your first meeting with Tsuki, you hadn’t seen each other since, and yet somehow he was still working you to pieces.

He’d text you around dinner time each day since then like clockwork, just one word:

- ‘Studying?’

- ‘Yes Tsukishima.’

- ‘Good job.’

And it’d be the same thing in the mornings:

- ‘Study guide treat you well?’

- ‘Lol yes Tsukishima. It was actually really helpful so ty :)’

- ‘👍🏼’

I mean, he hand made you study guides to use. And enough of them so that they would last you till he met back up with you on the following Sunday.

It was like he knew you’d feel bad if you didn’t use them and study. But you’d be lying if you said they weren’t helping. You were walking through the door to said class now, and actually feeling semi confident as you sat at your desk and pulled out your belongings, and you had Tsukishima to thank for that.

You noticed it was quiet today as you waited for class to start. October slump was definitely hitting your fellow peers hard, that and the weather. Even your professor was quiet as he walked in and prepared the lesson.

Feeling fatigued and bored yourself, you pulled your phone out to pass the time when you noticed you had a text from Tsukishima still sitting on your lockscreen. It must be pretty recent.

Hm, that’s odd.

Tsukishima

‘Good luck in class today. I hope it all makes a little more sense. :).’

…

A smiley face?

You shut your phone off quickly and shoved it back into your pocket, not particularly fond of the way your heart swelled just the slightest at the fact he texted you.

And remembered you had class today.

And texted you a smiley face at that.

Hm. Looks like he’s warming up to me.

————————

OKOK DONT YELL AT ME AKEKEKE I’m currently writing chapter 3 already ok 😭 i feel like this is kind of short but it just felt weird to do another transition for what I wanted to write rather than just doing a whole chapter and yeah - MIND UR BUSINESS OK I KNOW WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS. Anywayyysss Ahhhh I hope this fed yall well heheheh and you know I love your thoughts and stuff :3 !! MWAH

taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know!)

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Smut: Perks and Quirks of Being Tony Stark's Bestie

Based off this ask sent by @starkeristheendgame :

Are you even friends if you don't try to out-cum each other? (Could also be out-fuck)

Ty for sending that ask! It really got me inspired and motivated to write (which hasn't happened in so long so 😭💗) I feel like this fic is a bit odd but 🤷🤷 also, if the formatting's weird, sorry 😭 Tumblr fighting me on this

Notes: College AU, same age Starker, porn watching (some straight porn then gay porn), handjob, friends with benefits? Friends to lovers? (I also like to think Oblivious Idiots in love 😅)

WC: 3674 (AO3) 💗💗💗 There are certainly perks to being Tony Stark's best friend. Peter knows it well but he's never taken advantage. It's always been Tony that pushes him into accepting things or just drags him along for the ride. It'd been that way since they met in high school and while Peter got into MIT on his own merit, he never would've been able to afford the cozy two bedroom apartment five minutes away from campus on his own.

"As if I'd let my best friend stay in the dorms," Tony had scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "You'd think you'd know better by now, Petey baby. You're stuck with me so just shut up and say yes." There are certainly perks but then there's… other stuff. Tony's been called the genius of their generation but he also has a few weird quirks that Peter's not sure anyone else would understand. Or at least there'd be a few raised eyebrows if they knew.

When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food.When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food. He's not in either of the rooms so Peter pads over to Tony's bedroom. The door's unlocked and Peter unsuspectingly walks in. As expected, he finds Tony there and the other boy is sitting on his bed. Given the heat, it's not surprising that he's wearing a white tank top but little else. His pants are in a crumpled mess on the floor which leaves him in just his boxers. This is where most people would jump back or run away because Tony isn't just lazing around in bed. Nope, Tony has his headphones in and he's lazily jerking off, eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. Peter's attention is caught by the slow, captivating strokes his friend makes as he plays with himself. It's only natural that that's where Peter's eyes go. The way Tony touches himself is almost hypnotic. His cock is flushed pink and Peter can see that swollen tip poke out whenever the other boy strokes downwards, squeezing along the length until he reaches the base. Peter enjoys the view because Tony makes an attractive sight. Neither of them are really into sports but Tony's body is still solid with hard earned muscles. While Peter has his hyped up metabolism to thank for his lean body, Tony's probably earned his from all the hands-on work he does fixing cars and engineering. Watching Tony like this… It has to be a pavlovian response because this isn't anything new. It's actually become a habit, someone walking in on the other and casually inviting the intruder for a jerk off porn session. Once he sees what Tony's doing, his own body quickly heats up in anticipation. Peter huffs and leans against the doorway, angling his body to hide the evidence away. His arms cross over his chest and he feels his heart beating in excitement. "Do you have any decency?" Peter quips, voice pitched loud enough to get Tony's attention. "Should I come back later?" The other boy pauses and pulls off one of his headphones. Instead of being embarrassed like a normal human being, he grins at Peter. He looks happy to see him which probably isn't the normal response someone should have when their jerkoff session gets interrupted. "Hey, Peter," Tony says and gives his cock a few slow tugs while he talks. "How was class?" He lets go of his cock and gives a nice, slow stretch as though he'd been in that position for a while. It bobs in the air, slick with lube and still achingly hard. Peter sympathizes because his own cock has taken an interest and it's now straining against his pants. Peter then notices the wad of tissues in the small trash can by the bed and his nose wrinkles. "It was alright," he answers. "How many times did you do it already?" Tony follows his gaze and it's only then that he ruefully smiles at Peter. "Do it? You mean, come?" He laughs a little, "You're so weird, Peter. Can't even say come?" Peter blushes but doesn't back down. "You're the one jerking off in front of me," he retaliates. "If it's more than five, I'm leaving." "No, no, don't go," Tony protests. "It was, hmm, twice?" He

shrugs, "You can still catch up." Twice. Tony has already jerked off two times. There's no rule that they have to wait for each other to start but Peter considers saying there should be. "I have homework," Peter hedges, a clumsy excuse because when do they not have homework? Tony rolls his eyes and pats the space next to him. "All the better to get it all out of your system. C'mon, sit down already," he says in an attempt to convince Peter. "Besides, I want your opinion on this vid." Peter pretends to consider it for a second but he's never needed much convincing. It's as he thought earlier, there are certainly perks to being Tony's best friend but then there's this… thing they have going on. Peter doesn't know what to classify it because it's not like they have sex with each other and they're definitely not dating. Tony's just like this, so carefree, curious, and wild. The older boy shows no hesitation when it comes to talking about porn or sex with Peter. It might just be Peter, though, because he's never caught Tony doing it with anyone else. Maybe mildly flirting but then, that's just Tony's personality. He likes to joke around, likes to flirt, and apparently likes to watch porn with Peter. Maybe Peter's the only one that isn't weird about this, about watching porn with a friend. He kind of likes that idea, that he's the only friend Tony does this with. "Okay, fine, fine," Peter says as he unbuttons his pants. Tony smirks at him once he sees how hard he is but Peter just rolls his eyes. What does Tony expect, really? It's pointless to try to hide it now. He does, however, nearly fold his pants and sets them aside because May taught him better. He moves closer and Tony scoots over to give him space. There's ample room on the bed, Tony has a king for some reason, but since they're watching the porno on Tony's laptop, Peter remains close enough that their knees touch. "Ready?" Tony asks but he immediately tugs the plugged headphones out. The telltale sounds of an adult film immediately spills into the room. High pitched moans and the dirty wet sounds of a mouth sucking on a cock. Tony's been on an oral fixation lately. The last two videos they've watched were blowjobs. They never really watch the same video twice because that defeats the purpose of Peter being there to critique it. He settles down in his spot, his left knee and elbow brushing Tony's while his right forearm rests on his thigh. His hand barely brushes against the bulge his erection makes in his boxers. "I'll give you a head start," Tony says to which Peter shushes him. The video that Tony's picked out today has a woman on her knees. She's working on her partner's cock, stroking whatever part of it that isn't in her mouth. Drool drips down her chin and her red lipstick is smeared on her face as she sucks her partner off. It's not exactly Peter's taste but he can tell the woman is Tony's type. Curly honey brown hair cut short to her shoulders. She reminds him of a girl next door type of person, someone he could bump into on the street and never realize she does these kinds of videos. He almost startles when he feels Tony nudge the bottle of lube against his arm. "Thanks," Peter says absentmindedly as he takes it. He's watching the video and his body is slowly starting to heat up. He only knows Tony's returned to jerking off because he feels the other boy's elbow bump against him. A glance to his side confirms it but when he looks up, a shock of heat sears through his body when their eyes meet. Tony doesn't look away so Peter has to. Heat blooms across his cheeks and crawls down his neck. He's always had a hard time looking Tony in the eye while they're doing this. The other boy's gaze is just always so intense like the subject to be investigated isn't the video but Peter. It's a silly thought though. "She's not as loud as the last one," Peter says to offset the awkwardness. His voice is calm and collected but inside, he's shivering from the memory of Tony's eyes on him. Peter squeezes his cock through his boxers. He's already so

hard that just touching himself like this has him trembling in pleasure. Without looking at his friend, he takes himself out. "Yeah," Tony agrees. He already sounds breathless and Peter dares to take a peek at him again. "It was a little distracting last time, all that moaning sounded really fake so I thought this might be better." Fortunately or unfortunately, Tony isn't looking at him this time. He's back to watching the screen, his hand curled around his erection and giving it the same slow teasing strokes as before. Maybe he's pacing himself since Peter still has to catch up. Peter hums in agreement and forces his eyes back to the video. It doesn't really keep his attention though and his mind wanders, eyes glazing over as he focuses more on the sounds filling the room. His mind seems more in tune with what's happening around him though and he zeros in on the sound of Tony's breathing as it turns into soft panting. His own breathing escalates to match his friend's and Peter jerks himself off to the sound of Tony's breathless panting, to the wet sound of flesh sliding against flesh next to him. He lets out a moan himself. It feels good to touch himself after a long day of classes and with Tony next to him, it feels even better. A sharp inhale next to him has Peter's back straightening as he looks at Tony who's biting down on his lip while watching the screen. Tony's eyes flicker to him and his white teeth press down on his bottom lip. "You better not come," Peter grits out even as he's holding back from releasing. "You– ah– You said you'd let me catch up." "Yeah, I won't," Tony grunts, "don't take too long though, I've been holding back for a while now." "Literally no one told you to," Peter says. His voice has lowered into a strained, breathy murmur. "I'm almost there so just– just wait, okay? You're distracting me." Tony rolls his eyes but ends up chuckling breathlessly. He stops stroking but starts massaging his balls. He lets out a moan as soon as he starts and that has Peter squeezing his eyes shut, his hips stuttering as he fucks his cock into his fist. His heart is going crazy and he stops fighting it. He spills right there, his load coming out hard and fast. It ends up getting over his stomach and he milks it out, squeezing the tip of the last few drops. When Peter finally finished, his nose wrinkles at the mess. "Should've taken your shirt off," Tony says, voice strained. Peter shoots him a friendly glare which softens when he finds that his friend is still holding back. Tony's face is flushed, his eyes bright with desperation. And yet, he hasn't come even when it's obvious he's ready to pop off. On the screen, the video is still playing but Tony grimaces. "Let's switch it up," he says while absentmindedly fondling his balls. "Sure." Tony leans forward a bit and uses the touchpad on his laptop to search around. Peter's trying his hardest not to stare at the other boy's erection. It doesn't soften in the least and Peter just wants to reach out and touch it. He wants to feel the warmth of Tony's skin, wants to hear what kind of noises Tony will make if he dares to do it. To touch Tony… "Okay, this'll be a little different," Tony says when he leans back into position. "But I don't think you'll mind. Tell me if you do and I'll find something else." A new video starts and Peter glances at it without much interest. Then he almost does a double take when he sees it's two men on the screen. Tony's never put in a gay porno before, he couldn't have chosen one now… Could he? "A threesome?" Peter says curiously. His heart is pounding and then it goes into overdrive when the two men start making out. "I can look for one next time if you want?" Tony offers. When Peter looks at him, the other boy has a lazy smirk. He's not bothered at all by the two men kissing on screen and Peter swallows down the spit in his mouth. "No, this is… this is good. It's fine," Peter says. He tears his eyes away and returns to the video. "You're hard again," Tony comments nonchalantly. Peter looks down and yeah…

Yeah, he's hard. He's watching a gay porno with his friend. Tony either picked up that this is more to Peter's preference or… Or this is Tony's preference, too. Either option makes Peter want to run away or hide under a blanket. He does neither because he's not going to make this weird. "You have good taste," Peter says, "They're both really hot." Tony chuckles beside him. "Damn right, I do." They both fall silent and they're both more engrossed in this film. Peter actually takes the time to invest in what's going on. Both men are attractive and hot as hell. They don't waste any time stripping each other off and the expanse of newly exposed skin has Peter squeezing his cock. Despite this, he can't help glancing at Tony. He can't help wondering. Their eyes keep meeting and this time, Peter doesn't look away. Neither does Tony. He greedily takes everything in, admiring the way Tony's hair, previously slicked back, is falling into his eyes. Tony's mouth is also slightly parted and a quick pink tongue flicks out to wet dry lips. Peter wants to bite at them. Something changes between them at this moment. They're watching both the film and each other. For Peter, his attention is clearly on Tony and it's Tony that's making his cock hard. But even if it feels like something's changed, Peter still toes the line of their friendship. "Are you getting close again?" Tony pants. He's struggling not to come. Peter can tell by how he's gently tugging on his balls in an attempt to hold off. Peter bites down on his lip cause he's not quite there yet but he wants to so badly. He wants to come with Tony watching him but he just can't seem to do it. "I don't think I can," Peter groans. "Ugh, Tony, I'm getting tired…" Something in his expression must give his frustration away because Tony shuffles closer which makes Peter's heart go berserk. Not only does Tony come closer but he moves behind Peter. His legs stretch out, bracketing Peter's body. Suddenly, Tony's so much closer. Too close for comfort because Peter had just said he couldn't come but like this, it'd be so easy. It fuels all sorts of dirty imaginations that he shouldn't be having about his friend but... "I got an idea," Tony says, pressed so close against Peter's back. Surely, he can feel Peter's heart thumping like crazy? "What do you– Oh…!" Peter's entire body would've basically jumped in the air if it isn't for Tony's arms around him. "It's not fun if I win all the time, so we should at least end this in a tie, right, Pete?" Tony says. "Lemme help, okay?" Peter's wide-eyed and his hips buck uncontrollably when Tony's hand settles over his own. There's no mistaking what Tony wants to do. He shudders when Tony grips his cock. Those sturdy fingers that Peter often admires press down on him causing him to tighten his grip on his cock. Tony's touching him… Tony's touching his cock. Tony wants to help jerk him off. Peter might just come right then and there. "Tony– You're… touching me…" The words come out as an embarrassing squeak but Peter can scarcely believe it. "Mhmm…" Tony murmurs, amusement in that one single hum. Peter had just started the obvious so of course, he'd be amused. In any other circumstances, maybe Peter would be too. Instead, he feels like he's dreaming. He's looking down at his body, specifically between his legs where Tony's tanned hand is curled around his. "C'mon, Pete, either move your hand or I'll move it for you," Tony says right into his ear. That gets Peter moving and he starts stroking again, clumsy with the added weight of another hand. It shouldn't feel good because their hands are bumping and Tony being pressed against him is making him so… so flustered. But it does feel good. it feels so good that Peter's fighting tooth and nail not to come right away. He doesn't want this to end yet. Eventually, Tony does take over. When he pulls Peter's hand off by the wrist, Peter just shudders and lets him. His hand falls to the side and he grabs the bed sheets just to have some sort of anchor. He squeaks when Tony adds more

lube. "Sorry. Here, I'll make you feel good…" Tony promises him and he keeps true to his word. He practices those smooth steady strokes on Peter's cock and Peter recognizes the motion. It turns him on so much, he's clenching his teeth to hold back all those embarrassing moans that want to escape. "Tony…" Peter gasps. "I-It feels..." "Too slow? Too soft?" Tony chuckles. "I got you, Pete. Relax and lemme take care of it." Peter squeezes his eyes shut as Tony increases his pace. His grip tightens a little but it's enough to have Peter gasping out his name again. It's exactly what Peter needs and he whimpers, hips twitching toward the delicious friction Tony's hand provides. His ears burn from the wet sounds Tony's hand makes while he's jerking him off, all those embarrassing squelches and not to mention the feeling… Tony's grilling him just right, giving him a warm, wet hole to thrust his cock into… How can something so simple as another person touching him feel so much better than his own hand? His hips continue to move, thrusting into his friend's tight grip. He's so aware of every point of contact between their bodies. "Isn't this weird?" Peter starts to babble, "The porn was one thing but Tony– You're touching my– Isn't this too much?" "Is it? I'm just trying to get you caught up," Tony says as though it's entirely reasonable. Then he chuckles and Peter shivers at the warmth of his breath fanning across his nape, "Are you even friends if you don't try to out-come each other?" It's so ridiculous that it makes Peter huff out a laugh even while his cock is now a leaking mess in Tony's fist. "You're ridiculous–" he gasps. "And you're about to cum," Tony says. Peter can hear the triumph in his voice. It's the last thought he has before Tony's hand squeezes him just right. He's coming before he even realizes it and the outpouring of pleasure has him arching his back, gasping and shuddering in ecstasy. Tony's arms keep him grounded, pressed as he is against the front of his friend's body. "Oh, fuck, yeah," Tony breathes. His head hangs between his shoulders and it's in the perfect position to see how his load comes spilling out of his cockhead, all messy and being milked out by his friend in gentle squeezes. He feels something hot and hard poke against his back. Oh, yeah… Tony still hasn't come. Despite having his orgasm milked out of him, Peter's body is still hot. Actually, it's even worse now because Tony's arms are still around him. Tony's face is still buried against his neck, his breath adding fuel to the heat inside him with every puff of warm air against his sensitive skin. The video has long since ended and Tony doesn't seem to care about putting another one on. It's just them now with no excuse for what they're doing. Peter leans back and he can feel Tony's cock rub against him, so hot and demanding. Tony grumbles when Peter pulls away but he doesn't get the chance to complain. Peter shoves him so he's lying flat on his back, those familiar brown eyes wide with surprise and arousal. "Since we're trying new things," Peter says, breathless and barely containing the urge to straddle Tony's hips. "Mind if I try something?" Tony's hands curl into loose fists before they relax and he gives Peter a look that he's never seen before. Bedroom eyes… Now Peter understands what those words mean. By the curve of his smart mouth and the dark, hungry look in his eyes, he's inviting Peter to do whatever he wants with him. "I'm always up for new things," he says then smirks, "Quite literally this time." The amused look on Tony's face quickly fades when Peter settles between his legs. He leans down, takes a hold of the other boy's cock by the base to steady it. It twitches in his hand and Tony's eyes are fixated on Peter's lips hovering over his tip. Peter loves the way Tony's watching him. "I don't mind if you win this time, Tones," he says, "so don't hold back, okay?" With that said, he closes the distance and takes Tony's cock into his mouth.

[ichorai]

mr. sad piano man ; m.yg

pairing ; min yoongi x reader

summary ; yoongi tries to teach you how to play piano because he loves you.

words ; 1.4k

warnings / includes ; no warnings, just fluffy yoongle for you !! includes yoongi being a softie™, and some making out oomf

a/n ; might mess around and make a part two to this later !! also i tried writing this in a more victorian-esque ?? style ?? ig that’s just bcs i’ve been reading the game of thrones books lol

Yoongi felt your eyes on him the moment you walked into the large music room. He could practically see your fond smile tilting your lips upwards, arms crossing over your chest as you leaned against the door frame. The man didn’t bother turning around despite his own small grin blossoming across his face. 

The polished ivory keys were cold under his spindly fingers; it’d been a while since he last played. A soft, sorrowful melody was what he decided to start off with, hands gently plucking away at the tiles. The notes echoed across the vast room, conjuring a thick, dramatic atmosphere.

Immersed in his music, Yoongi had barely noticed when you crossed the short distance to stand by his side, simply watching him with fascination.

Suddenly, he was all too aware of your presence. The lulling melody came to an abrupt halt as his fingers stilled mid-note. The jarring echoes of the ghost of his piano followed after.

“Did you need something?” He didn’t sound angry. No, Yoongi could never be angry at you. It was a sincere question out of pure curiosity. 

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked at him in confusion, “Why must you always choose to play sad songs? Do you not know any happy ones?”

Yoongi had to shuffle to make room for you as you swung your leg over the cushioned bench, landing a quick peck to his cheek that had him blushing scarlet. 

“Music is an emotional outlet for me. The piano never asks any questions; it just allows you to whittle your sadness away until you feel better.”

The look on your face told him that that probably wasn’t the best answer to give. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, Yoongi.”

After a hesitant pause, the onyx-haired man patted your knee in what was supposed to be consolation.

“Next time, I promise I’ll come straight to you.” He said somewhat reassuringly, lifting his other hand to stroke against your cheek. In a much smaller, unsure tone, he spoke up again. “I love you, Y/N.”

He carefully studied the way your eyes danced with pleasant surprise, before crinkling in the corners with a jubilant smile. It’d been the first time either of you had ever said the dreaded L-word around each other. Perhaps he was just scared, but deep down Yoongi had always known that he was in love with you.

Once many moons ago, Taehyung had asked him what it was like being in love, and Yoongi did nothing but raise an eyebrow at his starry-eyed friend in disbelief. Never had it crossed his mind that he was right. 

“I love you too, Yoongi.” You whispered into the distance between the two of you. 

You’d only been together for a few months, and Yoongi was still quite shy when it came to affection; be it physical or emotional. So it was safe to say that you were very much shocked when Yoongi tugged you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist and tipping you over slightly to slant his lips against yours sweetly.

When the two of you pulled away, you were breathless and flushed, clothes askew and hair thoroughly mussed. “Teach me how to play.” You said, threading your fingers through his fine strands of dark hair. “I want to know how the man I love carved away his fears with a piano to kiss me like that.”

A short chuckle left Yoongi, before he awkwardly trailed off to realize that you were being completely serious.

“It’d be my pleasure, my love.”

The next few hours following were filled with your severely off-key melodies and gentle grumbling, Yoongi’s sweet smiles, and both of your conjoined laughter. Eventually, you had gotten so frustrated that you were just about to call it quits before Yoongi pulled you closer, bringing your fingers to lay delicately on top of his as he played another simple tune.

“Close your eyes.” He mumbled, pink glazing over his face when you squeezed your eyelids closed without hesitation. “You’re hearing, but you’re not listening.”

Although you were a little put off playing any more, you could never say no to Yoongi.

The room was gradually growing darker as the sun drifted past the horizon, the sky a palette of diaphanous lavenders and wispy roses and vivid carmines. Long shadows stretched over the pristine floors, the two of your dark silhouettes propped up against each other. 

“I think you’ve practiced enough today,” Yoongi said in an amused tone as you stretched in a feline-like manner, hiding a yawn. Timidly, he glanced at you while twiddling with his finger nails. “Do you think it was worth it?”

“Oh, Yoongi.” You rose from the piano bench and ducked down to lovingly flatten your lips against the side of his head. “Anything would be worth it if I was with you.”

Said man rolled his eyes off to one side, albeit not without clearing his throat embarrassingly, “Don’t be cheesy.” Pushing himself to his feet, he shot you a grateful smile when you laced your fingers together. 

“Says you, Mr. Sad Piano Man.” 

“That’s not cheesy, that’s just cliché.”

A hint of a frown crossed your face. “Oh, whatever.” It immediately disappeared when Yoongi unthreaded his fingers from yours to cradle your chin lightly, as if you were fragile. He hesitated just a millisecond longer before swooping downwards to embrace your lips with his.

Yoongi was enraptured by you; your scent, your beauty, your tantalizing smile. It was all too good to be true. “Do you really love me back?” He whispered into you.

You blinked at him with large, glistening eyes. “Why don’t I show you?”

The breath caught in his throat as you tugged at the collar of his button-down, pulling him out the music room. You tried your best to keep up the ‘sexy�� facade, but your mouth broke out into an uncontrollable smile and smothered laughs slipped through. 

“I hope I’m not ruining the mood.” You bent over slightly, clutching your stomach to stave away your laughter, but somehow still managing to push him into your bedroom.

“Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.” Yoongi said, mirroring your jubilant expression. “You’re most beautiful when you’re smiling.” 

Playfully shoving at his shoulder whilst the two of you clambered onto the bed, you exclaimed breathily, “Look who’s being cheesy, now!”

Yoongi hummed as he kissed you, smiling all the while. Your hair fanned out on the feather pillows, limbs tangling with his. You smelled of sweet mint tea and those glazed fruit tarts you always bought from the bakery. The smell grew to be so intoxicating to him that whenever you were out with your friends or at the farmers' market, he'd stay in bed and smother himself in your pillow that wafted with your lingering scent. He hoped that wasn't weird. Was that weird? 

With his thoughts running amuck, he hadn't realized he’d spoken the next words out loud. “One day I’m going to marry you.” He blurted out suddenly, lips a pretty shade of rouge and slightly swollen from your little make out session.

Oh, shit. Had I just said that aloud? Why weren’t you saying anything? Were those… tears in your eyes?

"Okay,” You sighed out over-exaggeratedly after a long, drawn out pause. “If you must.”

It took him a while to realize that you were merely jestering, heart this close to leaping out of his ribcage to make a run for it. At his nearly mortified expression, you huffed out a laugh and brought him down for another kiss.

Almost too excitedly, you shot upwards with glee written in your eyes (knocking Yoongi’s nose with your forehead in the process). While he was rubbing his sore nose quite gingerly, you just about shrieked out as if his previous words had just hit you. Did Yoongi really just say that he wanted to marry you? The man had only confessed his love to you a few hours prior.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t like you were going to say no. Of course not. You could never say no to Yoongi.

“Does that make me Mrs. Sad Piano Man?!” With that, you leapt off the bed, rushing out of your shared room to do God knows what (most likely run off to tell the rest of your friends the news), leaving Yoongi propped up on the sinking mattress, not trying very hard to suppress the lovesick smile on his lips.

How’d he ever end up falling in love with the likes of you of all people?

[hwangsbbg]

don’t wanna talk to you - Hyunjin

3k words, makeup sex, reader is mad that Hyunjin is neglecting her and ignores him. Reader is foreigner.

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

"It's like I sacrifice my precious vacation time to come all the way to Seoul and spend time with him but he's always busy with her" I complained to my best friend Juyeon who was over at my house along with Eric after I had called them, frustrated with my oblivious boyfriend.

"So you think he's cheating with you?" Eric asked as Juyeon ran his hands through my hair, my head sat in his lap as the TV played in the background, none of us really caring what was on anyways.

"It's not that. But he knows she likes him. She's always shown it. She tried kissing him at the JYP family event this year knowing he was with me and whenever she's around him she acts all flirty" I explained getting more and more riled up at the thought of Hyunjin hanging out with her.

"But why would he hang out with her then? That makes no sense?" Juyeon quirked an eyebrow as I sighed.

"JYP thought it was a good idea to make them do a collab dance stage so they're working on it. He could have said no though. He's supposed to be on a break but he accepted because he didn't want to let his boss down."

"Ok so if it's just work, why're you so riled up?" Eric asked.

"Because! He goes out to eat with her and they're always texting now ad it's just so fucking annoying" I replied.

"So did you tell him that its bothering you?" Juyeon inquired after listening to my mini rants.

"No. I'm just gonna ignore him. If he doesn't bother spending time with me or considering my feelings then I won't bother acknowledging him" I replied making Juyeon shake his head.

"Stop. I know it sounds petty but he really deserves it" I spoke up before Juyeon could say what was on his mind.

Hyunjin and this girl have known each other for a long time. She's liked him for a long time. She works in the same company as him and always gets to see him. She flirts with him all the time when I'm working and when I come to Seoul during my vacation, he still spends time with her.

"So how long have you been ignoring him for?" Eric grabs some pringles chips and stares at me through the lenses of his golden rimmed glasses, awaiting my response.

"Like 2 days" I answered truthfully. "And do you think he noticed?" Juyeon asks.

"I mean he sent me a message two nights ago and I ignored it, then he sent like three more the next day along with two calls and I ignored them. But I hung out with Chan and Jisung yesterday and texted them so I'm pretty sure he knows" I told them.

"Wow. I don't even know what to say. This is between you two and I'm sure you'll figure it out" Juyeon gave me a small smile that I returned.

"Okay but you hang out with so many guys though? Us and the rest of our members, the rest of stray kids, txt, ab6ix, nct, seventeen, too and so many more. Isn't it a little unfair for you to get mad at him" I lifted my head from Juyeon's lap to look at him after he tried to reason with me.

"All of these guys have never tried to kiss me and respect my relationship. If it were Yeji or Ryujin, I wouldn't worry but it's because it's her. On top of that, I always make time for him and he literally forgot I existed although I came here for him and my friends" I huffed.

After more talking and me basically venting my anger out, we decided to watch a movie before they had to go back to their dorms.

"Love you guys" I hugged them, waving goodnight and closing the door behind me. It was only 8pm but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to go anywhere tonight.

I decided on taking a shower. It was well needed as it gave me time to just think about anything I wanted to underneath the hot and powerful taps of the shower drops.

After showering I put on some body lotion and got dressed in an oversized shirt along with a pair of underwear as it was quite hot this night.

"What the fuck" I stopped scrolling through my phone as I heard the door to my house knock even though I wasn't expecting anyone at this time. It was already about 9pm.

I walked out of my room and towards the door, phone in hand. My house was one story but with several rooms.

As soon as I opened the door I groaned and closed it again. There stood my beautiful boyfriend whom I was very mad at dressed in ripped black jeans and a white button up.

The door was knocked again right as I closed it and I rolled my eyes opening it again.

"I don't want to talk to you" I huffed, trying to look tough despite the 12 cm difference between the two of us, glaring at him even though he towered over me.

"Well we're gonna talk whether you like it or not" He pushed himself inside the house, clearly as frustrated as I was before kicking the door close behind him.

"It's been two days. Two fucking days you're not talking to me and I don't even know why" Hyunjin runs as hand through his hair, staring at me as I stood in front of the front door watching his movements.

"I get that you're mad at me but can you at least tell me what I fucking did" he follows me into the living room as I start walking away from him.

"Why don't you fucking ask Yuna" I glared at him.

"What the fuck are you talking about" He asks, still oblivious to the issue.

"Are you fucking serious Hyunjin. I decide to come to Seoul and spend time with you during my break. And you fucking go on lunch dates with a girl who's clearly into you" I yelled, trying to hold back tears of frustration. I tend to cry when I'm angry or worked up.

"You know we're practicing together for the collab stage and that's it so I don't see the problem" He tells me.

"That's not the problem. The fact that you keep hanging out with her and always texting her, going to eat with her and so on, that's the problem. You haven't spent a minute with me in like a week and you're on a fucking break" I replied.

"I'm only going out to eat with her and hanging with her because even if she likes me, we're still friends and she's my partner. It's not my fault if you're jealous" He shoots back at me.

"Fine then I guess you don't mind me sleeping over at Sunghoon's place" I was purposefully trying to incite a reaction out of him. Sunghoon is a close friend of mine that used to like me.

"The hell you are" He glares at me.

"Who are you to stop me? I'm only hanging with him because even if he liked me, we're still friends. It's not my fault you're jealous" I used his words against him.

"I'm your fucking boyfriend. And I don't understand why you're being like this"

"Because I care about you and you don't act like you care at all about me. Its been a week you're hanging out with her all the time, only texting me as if we weren't in the same country. And you only come to me when I start ignoring you" I wanted to hit him with his own album that I saw resting in my bookshelf.

"You're acting like such a bitch right now. I don't have to spend every fucking minute with you. I have a life you know" He spat.

"You know what you're right. I guess I'm not as important in that life of yours I had thought." I couldn't help but let a tear fall at his words. I turned on my phone that was resting in my hand and quickly unlocked it.

"Babe? Baby are you crying? Fuck I didn't mean to make you cry. Shit I'm sorry" His tone immediately softens as he walks closer to me, cupping my face in his hands and wiping away the tears.

"Are you seriously looking up flights back to the US" He asked incredulously after glancing at my phone screen.

"I mean you clearly don't care if I'm here or not" I huffed, removing his hands from my face.

"Of course I care, so much. And I'm sorry I made it seem like I didn't. You know this project is important for me. Solo projects like these give more attention to the group. And I know you don't like her but trust me, nothing will happen." He began apologizing.

"It's not about trust Hyunjin, it's the fact that you don't even remember I exist and spend all your time with her" I huffed.

"I'm sorr-" "I mean what girlfriend wouldn't be fucking jealous if their boyfriend decided to spend every minute with a girl who likes him" I cut him off.

"Oh so you're jealous huh" He smirked as I glared at him.

"That's besides the point. You really fucking pissed me off" I rolled my eyes

"Okay I'm sorry baby. Ok? I promise tonight and all day tomorrow I'm all yours" He gave me a small peck and this time I didn't reject his actions.

"And you know I might've been spending time with her but it's you I'm always thinking about" he wrapped his arm around my waist, resting his forehead on mine, smiling.

"Cuz you're fucking mine, not hers" I replied, kissing him once again, my hands unconsciously moving to wrap themselves around his neck and pulling him slightly downwards so I didn't have to go on my tippy toes to reach his lips.

"Of course, I'm yours. I'll always be just yours" He whispered, his hands holding onto my waist, pulling me closer, closing the distance so there was not a millimeter of space between our two bodies.

His pink, plump, soft and addictive lips moved against mine and I almost forgot why I was mad at him to begin with. I smile into the kiss as I felt him tug at my bottom lip and smiled even wider when his tongue entered my mouth.

He moved his tongue in sync with my own as his hands travelled down, cupping my ass, rubbing on them and using them to bring me closer to him even if there was no distance between us.

"Fuck baby, jump" He pulled away as I looked at him with a smirk, my arms still hanging onto his neck, jumping slightly so he caught my thighs and wrapped them around his waist. Having a dancer and performer boyfriend came in really handy as he could easy carry me like this with no problem.

I began leaving small kisses and sucking on his neck as he carried me to my room. He obviously knew the way as he was accustomed to the house more than anyone else.

With no words said he used his back to close the door before laying me on the queen sized bed, giving me a small smile whole kicking off his shoes.

"You're so fucking beautiful" He easily slid off his shirt, moving between my legs and lowering his body to plant kisses on my neck.

His fingers trailed on my bare thighs as I realized my shirt definitely rose up so he had a perfect view of everything the underwear wasn't covering.

One of his hands slid under my oversized shirts, cupping a breast and rubbing on it while the other lazily rested at my waist as he continued to suck dark purple marks on my dark skin.

My legs wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer causing him to rut against me making both of us to let out different noises but for the same pleasurable reason.

I lifted my back a little and he immediately understood what I meant as his hands went to the hem of my shirt and in a swift action, he pulled it off, throwing it to the ground next to us.

He groaned, staring at my bare breasts, his lips immediately attaching to one as if it were a magnet. He teasingly held my nipple between his teeth ever so delicately making me whine before he placed his soft lips around the bud and began sucking on it, grinding his prominent bulge against my underwear covered core.

He tried to pull away and my hands instinctively went to the back of his head, keeping him in place as if to not lose the pleasure. I heard him chuckled lightly before slowly lifting his head, staring at me, my nipple still in his mouth, before he released it with a loud pop, moving to the next one.

He began sucking on the breast, already leaving dark purple marks before sucking on the dark and hard nipple that was patiently waiting for his mouth.

"Mm please" I didn't actually know what I was begging for but I was in too much pleasure not only from his lips but from the way his hips moved on me.

He let go of the nipple after a while, blowing onto it before standing up straight, unbuttoning his jeans ever so slowly. It's almost like he wanted to tease me however he was only making himself suffer by imprisoning his erection in those tight clothes for a while longer.

His lip stuck out of his mouth as his brows furrowed in concentration as he removed his jeans and underwear at the same time. He was quite impressive, not only blessed with good looks.

"You're soaked and we barely even started" He smirked, running a finger along my covered slit making me let out a small whine that didn't go by unnoticed by him.

He began chuckling before grabbing the hem of my white underwear and pulling them down, easily.

"As good as you look right now I really need you" He was referring to all the foreplay he wanted to skip and I was completely fine with that.

"You're still here tomorrow" I gave him a small smirk before sitting up, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him back onto the bed with me, engaging a passionate kiss. I took the lead as Hyunjin focused on positioning himself.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" I moaned out as the tip of his length slowly entered, already stretching my walls and he moved his head to rest at the crook of my neck.

"So fucking tight. Fuck" He mumbled, slowly pushing the rest of himself in until he was buried deep inside.

He placed both his hands on either side of my body and slowly began moving. His thrusts were slow and precise and had the both of us cursing and breathing heavily.

I stared at his sweat covered forehead with strands of hairs sticking to it all the way to his glorious lips that were swollen from the kissing to his abs that I could drool over for days.

"HO- FUCK" I might've reacted a tad bit too loudly as he hit a certain area that made the pool of heat in my stomach bubble and a certain knot form.

"You're so fucking hot. Look at you. Under me. So hot. You're gonna make me cum" He grabbed one of my thighs and moved my legs up to his shoulder, resting it there to give him better access.

He continued for a while before I stopped him and flipped us around.

I kissed all over his neck, sucking on a few areas on his chest, shoulders and collarbones and of course the nipples before I positioned myself.

I hovered over his waist, carefully grabbing his length and positioning it at my entrance before sliding on to him.

I began moving slowly as he watched me, jaw slightly parted, his eyes darting from my face to my breasts to his cock being buried deep inside of me.

"Mmm fuck babe c-can you speed up" I began moving faster at his words and he began matching ever bounce I made with a thrust upwards.

"Yeah who fucks you like this huh?" "Only you baby- fuckkk" I was pretty sure the neighbors could hear us considering how loud we were being.

"B-babe I'm coming" his voice for some reason dropped and came out a bit broken as he reached his high.

I felt his cock twitching inside of me and like he predicted, a few seconds later, he released, painting my inner walls white as I rode him until he was finished.

"Keep- keep going you didn't come yet" He looked out of breath when he grabbed my waist as I tried to slide off of him.

"It's fine you don't have too, it was great for me as well so don't worry" I reassured him but he shook his head no.

He gave weak thrusts and I smiled at his attempts to make me feel good as I began moving again, slowly.

It didn't take much time or effort after that for me to come and to get off of him roll over onto the other side of the bed

"I bet Yuna can't give it to you like that" I finally let out after recollecting my breathing.

"Would you let that go already" He chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before grabbing me and pulling me closer to him.

"I love you. Really. I love you so fucking much. And I might not always show it but I do. And nobody could ever compare to you babe" He kissed my forehead as I tried to suppress the huge grin making way on my face.

"I love you more Hyunjin" I breathed out, moving closer to him as his grip around me tightened.

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process. 

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town. 

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket. 

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising. 

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda. 

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort. 

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly. 

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove. 

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.” 

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you. 

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you. 

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered. 

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her. 

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?” 

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something. 

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand. 

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?) 

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving. 

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do. 

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex. 

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?” 

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you. 

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.” 

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.” 

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...” 

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?” 

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”

[knightsimp]

Recovery (2/2)

Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader

Summery: You were right; that was not Percival Graves. So, what are you going to do about it?

Genre: Angst + fluff (I think it’s a sweet ending :D)

Word Count: 2600+

Date Posted: February 14, 2021 (Happy Valentine’s Day!)

Note: None

Part One: Link

“How do you think she is doing, Teenie?” Queenie found herself asking as she and Tina made their way to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“I’m not sure, but I regret not staying with her for a couple of days.” The girls had no idea what (Y/N) was up to; she had not turned up for work, understandably, for the last five days. Now that it was Friday, they were able to check up on her. 

The sisters looked at each other before Tina knocked on (Y/N)’s door. They chose not to apparate to avoid scaring her. 

“It’s open!” (Y/N)’s muffled voice came through the door. When they entered the apartment, they did not expect such a mess.

The kitchen was a mess, first of all. Pots and pans everywhere, and unwashed dishes piled the sink. 

“In here!” (Y/N) called from the room at the end of the corridor: the bedroom. The bedroom was not any better than the kitchen. From what can be seen by just looking through the bedroom door, (Y/N)’s bed was not made and a couple garments were dumped onto it. Miscellaneous things, such as her hairbrush and a few pieces of clothing, were piling onto her bedside table.

Tina and Queenie were not prepared to see a spew of papers near the wall which was facing the bed. Tina had not known about (Y/N)’s investigation at all, but Queenie knew and did not realize it would get this far and this bad. The small patch of papers that were pinned on the wall, which had been connected together with red string, had taken over the square-ish area and had started to crawl onto the ceiling. 

“Oh my god.” Tina mumbled, looking up at one of the moving snippets from The Daily Prophet. 

“Tina! Queenie!” (Y/N) was at the wall where this collection started. “How are you?” It looked as if (Y/N) just rolled out of bed and got to work. And that was exactly what has been happening the last several days.

“We’re doing alright, (Y/N).” Queenie hesitated for a moment. “How are you?” (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

“Tired mostly. I haven’t slept in a couple days, but look! I have made so much progress!” Queenie looked around and found two empty mugs which were, no doubt, once filled with coffee. Tina snapped out of her memorization of the ceiling. 

“Progress?” Tina asked, raising an eyebrow. She slowly put the pieces together. “(Y/N),” pause, “are you trying to figure out where Mr. Graves is?” (Y/N) smile dropped for a moment while she averted her gaze downward. Her enthusiastic smile became a sad one as she fiddled with the delicate gold charm that Percival had gifted to her for a birthday. 

“Well, of course.” (Y/N) looked back at them, speaking softly. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“First, you need to go take a shower.” Tina went behind (Y/N) and pushed her shoulders out of the bedroom to the nearby bathroom. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but you really do stink. We can smell you from across the room and it is a long room.” 

“Tina’s right!” Queenie agreed, looking at them. “You need to take care of yourself, (Y/N). You are not going to make much progress when you are unconscious from a lack of sleep and proper food.” Before (Y/N) could say anything, Queenie added, “And yes, regardless of what you think, you do need a little freshening up.” With a little more arguing, (Y/N) agreed to at least take a shower. Queenie handed (Y/N) some clothes to change into before she entered her bathroom.

Tina continued to awe at (Y/N)’s investigating. She knew (Y/N) was a brilliant detective, but this was beyond what she thought. She followed it down from the ceiling to the original wall. In the middle of the wall was where everything was connecting to; a photo of (Y/N) and Percival at the Blind Pig. After being constantly reprimanded by Percival, who was really Grindelwald, when he was around, it surprised her that she did not notice the differences between him and the real Percival sooner. Percival was very intimidating and dominating, yes, but he still cared about his subordinates. Grindelwald could not care less unless it was meddling his involvement in MACUSA.

As Tina looked closer into the snippets of newspaper, she noticed how (Y/N) had been investigating all over the city. No doubt she was going to all of these locations. Once a location was visited, it seemed like (Y/N) would pin or make notes on the snippet. 

“No way.”

“Possible, but not probable”

These were only the very general notes being made. It looked like (Y/N) was also communicating with Theseus Scamander in London to make some inquiries in Europe, but nothing came of that.

Tina did not realize how long she was gawking at (Y/N)’s work until she heard the shower stop.

(Y/N) looked as if she was in deep thought when she exited the bathroom. She definitely looked, and smelled, fresher than before.

“(Y/N)?” Tina tried to call out to her. “Are you okay?”

“(Y/N), are you sure?” Queenie came around the corner, overhearing (Y/N) thoughts. “Is that a likely place?”

“What is a likely place?” (Y/N) looked up at Tina. 

“You know how while you take shower or a bath, it is easy to let your mind wander?” Tina nodded. “I think...” She trailed off, again seemingly trying to make sense of her thoughts.

“You think Mr. Graves is at MACUSA!” Queenie gasped. 

“What?” Tina exclaimed. “Explain!”

“There is nowhere else he can be, Tina!” (Y/N) was right, but also sounded like she was grasping at straws. “I have scavenged the city for signs. I even had someone in London make secret inquiries for me. And it is absolutely something Grindelwald would do. If anyone was going to look for the real Percival, they were not going to search MACUSA, a place swarming with talented aurors. And it makes it easier to get ingredients for the Polyjuice potion. No one is going to question Percival Graves if they spot him walking through the building.”

“That is actually genius.” Tina mumbled before clearing her throat. “But where would he be? Like you said, MACUSA always has aurors in the building.”

“MACUSA is big and has been running for decades! There has to be some abandoned areas that are no longer required for work.”

“We can always check.” Queenie suggested. “All three of us work in that building.”

“Though, depending on how large the search area is, we may need help from Picquery.” (Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek. Might as well.

The sun was starting to set when the three women arrived at MACUSA.

“You two stay out here.” (Y/N) told the sisters. “I can’t have you two getting in trouble, especially you, Tina; you just got your job back as an auror.”

(Y/N) stormed into President Picquery’s office. She did not mean to, but her adrenaline took over. The President was clearly in the middle of some sort of meeting. She looked peeved, to say the least.

“Miss (L/N),” she started sternly. “I am glad to see you are feeling better, that being said-”

“Madame President-”

“-I am in the middle of something-”

“I may have figured out where Percival Graves is, ma’am.” The room went silent. “The real Percival Graves.” Picquery’s expression turned from annoyed to serious. 

“Gentlemen, we can reschedule, but I must talk with Miss (L/N) this instant.” The two men in suits left and closed the door behind them, leaving (Y/N) to Seraphina’s mercy. “Miss (L/N).” She let a bit of silence go by. “I’m listening.”

“I believe Percival may be in this building.” Seraphina leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“And what is your proof?”

“The lack of any. Madame President, when I tell you that I have scoured the whole city looking for him, I mean it; that is not an exaggeration. I have been making inquiries in Europe and no one has found anything.” Seraphina continued to stare at her. “Please, at least humor me.”

“And where would he be, (Y/N), if he is in fact here?”

“That is the big question, ma’am; that is why I am here in your office.” She purposefully kept Tina and Queenie out of it to avoid any repercussions they may face if she is wrong. “In my investigation into this theory, I wondered if there are any abandoned areas here in MACUSA. A building and organization this old cannot still be using all of it’s floors.” Then, the realization seemed to hit Seraphina.  

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but you may be onto something, (L/N).” She stood up from her chair and went to the front of her desk, leaning against it. “Some of the lowest floors have not been used in a long time. At least five or six floors. No one goes down there anymore; there is no need.” She led (Y/N) to the door. “I am sending five people to each floor immediately. You and the Goldstein's gather two more aurors and start the search.” (Y/N) wanted to ask how she knew the Goldstein sisters were involved, but quickly shut her mouth. “If you’re wrong, this is a waste of a lot of manpower. People are finishing up their shifts and will be very upset to be searching a good portion of our building when they could be going home.”

“Then, let's hope that I’m not wrong.” Seraphina nodded before heading off to the main floor. Tina and Queenie came closer, seeing as the coast was clear. 

“Miss Goldstein-”

“Find two other aurors and we’ll meet you at the elevator.” Queenie glanced at both the president and (Y/N) before leaving Tina with (Y/N). 

“(Y/N)?” Tina put a hand on her shoulder to stop her for a moment. (Y/N) explained the plan as they made their way to the elevator. 

“We don’t know what or who is down here.” Tina warned, talking to everyone, but keeping her eyes on (Y/N). “Stay alert.” The five of them split up, wands in hand, but stayed close enough to see each other in case of an ambush.

The bottom floor of the building, way under sea level, had definitely been abandoned. The remaining desks down there were dusty and untouched. Whatever else they had down there was the same.

After about half-an-hour, (Y/N) was losing hope; she was hanging on to the thought of finding Percival and it was the only thing keeping her going, but her grip was slipping.

In the relatively silent bottom floor of MACUSA, they could hear the echoing of someone yelling. They can barely make it out, but the words which were projected were very clear: “we found him!”

(Y/N) heart dropped to her stomach. She almost did not believe what she heard. Tina and Queenie caught up to (Y/N) as she ran to the cage elevator, though the elevator was way above where she was, giving her ample space to look up.

“Give me a floor!” (Y/N)’s voice cracked as she yelled up the shaft, trying to get through all of the noise. She got responses for many of the aurors, but she got a general answer: three from the bottom. Percival was supposedly only two floors above where she was. Her breathing was getting a little heavy. 

She looked at the floor before apparating to it. Her team followed. 

“(L/N)!” One of the aurors on the floor called her over. “He’s over here!” (Y/N) almost tripped with how quickly she ran, following the auror. The heels of her shoes made a loud clack every time her feet pummeled onto the floor. 

Her heart was pounding, but it really started hitting hard against her ribs when she saw her first glimpses of him. Her running had come to a halt and she slid on her knees in front of him.

The poor man had been through so much. Whatever skin was showing outside of his torn dress pants and ruffled dress shirt was bruised and his face was home to a black eye. His hair and facial hair had grown way past what he would have tolerated if he was in control of it. He stank of blood, sweat, and dirt.

He was not in a cage or cell; he was, instead, shackled to a support beam by his wrists.

“Percy!” (Y/N) gasped out, holding his almost unconscious face in her shaking hands. It looked like he may have been sleeping to pass the time. “Get medical down here!” A couple of aurors nodded and left to get personal from the medical wing. “Percival, please open your eyes.” 

Slowly, with whatever energy he had, he opened his eyes. He could believe (Y/N) was sitting in front of him, holding his face so gently. The light coming in from behind her made her look oh-so angelic. 

“(Y/N)?” Her name barely passed his lips. 

“Percy! Yes, yes! It’s me!” She could not care less that she was crying; hearing his voice again, the real him, brought her to tears. She let a sob escape. “Oh Merlin, I found you! I finally found you!” In her happiness, she planted tender kisses all over his face. She did not notice when Percival mumbled something to her. 

“Make way!” The healers had arrived with a gurney, ready to take Percival up to the medical wing. (Y/N) was reluctant to let go of him, but did so. She watched as he was taken away from her. 

Queenie, from (Y/N)’s side, gave her a reassuring hug, which the crying auror returned and finally let out her whimpers. 

He was found.

This was the real Percival.

He was alive.

And he was going to be okay.

It took about a full day for Percival to become coherent. He was so void of nutrients and fluids; the man was on the brink of dying. 

What had happened was clear: once Grindelwald was found out, Percival was no longer needed and he was left down there to die. It was horrifying to think what would have happened if (Y/N) had not had that miscellaneous thought in the shower.

When he awoke, (Y/N) was right there, gently holding onto his bruised hand so as to not hurt him further.

“You’re safe now, Percival,” was the first thing she said to him. “Everything will be alright.” Once again, the light coming from behind her made her look ethereal, as if she was an angel. 

His angel.

“I said, I love you.” Percival got out. (Y/N) blinked, thinking she misheard him.

“Percy?”

“I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I’m not going to let another day pass where I regret telling you that.” (Y/N) looked away, bashful. 

“You need to rest.”

“I mean it-”

She pressed a sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, ignoring the irritation from his beard, before sitting back in her seat. “I know you do. You are not a very flowery man.” He looked at her, a little confused. She gave him a soft chuckle, knowing what he was thinking. “I’m not going anywhere, Percival. I made that mistake once, and look at what happened. I am staying right here.”