#yeah he has carried me off the ground by holding the collar of my shirt what ever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

butwhyduh · 4 years ago

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"There is only one bed" "Exes forced to work together" and "Accidentally cuddling in sleep" with homeboy Dickie please <3

There were certain members of the Titans who said Dick’s superpower was being friends with his exes. Not very many of them had ill feelings for him after breakup despite everything that happened in their relationship. You tried to be like them. Kori could laugh at his jokes while he dated Barbara. Zatanna would often give him an open mouth kiss when she saw him and yet had no interest in dating him again.

But you weren’t like that. You didn’t know how to act around him. Possibly because you didn’t exactly break up normally, or at all. He just disappeared. It had been for a mission but still. He could have called or talked to you afterwards. That’s why you were mad. It was inconsiderate, you thought as you ignored the tiny voice that told you that you couldn’t be normal around him because you still liked him.

And currently you were dying because you had teamed up with Dick on a mission. Both of your skill sets matched for the mission’s needs and so this is how you ended up at the front counter of a Swiss hotel high in the mountain trying to get 2 hotel rooms instead of one. Or even just another bed.

“Madame, I apologize but there is no other room at this hotel. We are very sorry for the mix up but this is all we have. The nearest hotel is 30 kilometers north so I have very little I can do. Again, I apologize,” said the man. “It is the busy season.”

You sighed. “That’s fine. I’m tired. It’ll be fine,” you said grabbing the keys a little rougher than necessary. Dick looked at the man apologetically before following you.

The hotel was actually really nice. Very traditional with red ornamental patterned rugs and golden brown beaded board halfway up the wall. A gold chandelier hung in the front entry. A bellboy carried your bags up to the room and let you in.

The room was just as nice but tiny. Barely had enough room for the bed and a small table with 2 chairs and a tv stand. A little closet sat behind door and the tiny window with covered in thick curtains.

You tossed your bag in the closet without a care and pulled off your shoes. You groaned and stretched your toes before flopping on the bed.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Dick said grabbing a pillow.

“No just get in bed. There isn’t enough floor to sleep on. It’ll kill your back to sleep weird,” you said with a yawn. Dick stood awkwardly. You hadn’t thought about it but you were probably his only awkward ex and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“You sure? I don’t wanna be in your space,” Dick said tentatively laying down the pillow. You patted the mattress.

“You could sleep in the room beside me and I think you’d still be in my face with how tiny these rooms are,” you said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, this hotel is probably like 500 years old or something,” he said laying down. He was on his edge of the bed and you on yours. “Did I ever tell you that we toured out here when I was a kid in the circus?”

You turned to look at him. “No you haven’t. What was it like?”

“It was cold but fun. My mom got mad when I tried to do flips barefoot in the snow,” he said with a laugh. “I was probably 6. She thought I was going to get deathly sick from the cold.”

“That sounds exactly like something a mom would say,” you said with a smile.

“I also remember one of the sword swallowers tried to learn the language to speak to all the pretty women that came to the shows but he learned Swedish instead,” Dick said and you both laughed.

“I bet that didn’t go well.”

“He got lucky and the first woman he talked to spoke Swedish! It was pretty funny,” Dick said with a yawn. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” you said and the pillow felt like heaven. Your eyelids felt heavy and before you knew it, you were asleep. Hours later you woke to light hitting your eyes through the curtains so you snuggled closer to get it out of your eyes. Arms that wrapped around you tightened a little and you felt a humming noise that threatened to put you back to sleep.

Hot breath against your cheek made you move again. This time you woke up to take in your surroundings. A collarbone. Arms around your back. Legs tangled in your own. You hadn’t taken anyone home last night. Who was that? You blinked before realizing that you were in Dick’s arms.

You pulled back a little and he whined in his sleep and held you tighter. His touch was warm and comforting and you almost wanted to be lulled back to sleep with him. But Dick wasn’t your boyfriend and you needed to move. You shifted again and he opened his eyes to look at you in surprise.

“Oh,” he said. You both froze. “Sorry,” Dick muttered before moving his hands away slowly. His didn’t scoot away from you.

You looked at him and the way he looked at you stopped you from moving. It was raw and unfiltered in the mornin light and he clearly wasn’t over you. He looked down at your lips before looking back at your eyes.

“Morning,” you said softly. You looked down as he licked his lips. They looked soft and shiny. You slid your hand to his arm. Almost painfully slow, Dick scooted closer to where your lips were almost touching. You inhaled a little faster than normal.

“Can I,” he said already hold his head slightly turned. You leaned up to meet his lips. Dick’s hands went back around to grip your waist. The kiss started out tentative but didn’t take long to deepen. He tasted the same as you remember and his touch was familiar and comforting.

After a little bit of you both laying on your sides, Dick laid back and pulled you on top of him. You straddled his hips and kissed him hard. Dick made a moan against your lips and gripped your thighs. You rubbed down against him. You could feel him grow hard in his thin sleep pants. Dick pulled back to breathe.

“Fuck baby,” he panted. You huffed out a laugh. “What?” He asked and you grinned.

“Still has the same weaknesses, I see,” you whispered and he chuckled before shrugging. You ground down on him and he inhaled quickly.

“Yeah but so do you,” he said before flipping you over and pinning your hands above your head. You gasped into a moan as he nipped at the spot behind your ear. Dick smirked against your skin. “Yep the same spot.”

“Hmmm using it against me,” you asked and he nodded.

“Always take advantage of weaknesses. That how I was taught,” Dick said. He bent and sucked hard on the spot and you pulled at his hands, wanting to put your hands in his hair. Dick kissed down your neck to your collar and nipped at your collarbone. You made a keening sound.

“Not fair Grayson, not fair,” you said breathlessly and he chuckled.

“I could always stop,” Dick said, his breath was hot on your skin. You groaned and he chuckled. Dick slid his hands under your shirt and pulled back to slide it off. His fingers traced a new scar that you had gotten since the last time you had been together.

“Two Face,” you commented and he nodded before kissing the arcing curvature of lighter skin. You pulled at his shirt and he pulled it off too. He had some more scars too. A pair of red healing marks on his forearm that looked like claws you touched with your thumb.

“Killer Croc,” he said before kissing the valley between your breasts. You hummed in agreement before realizing what he said.

“Killer Croc? You got very lucky,” you said and he pulled back a little.

“Yeah. I mean, it got mad infected and I was out for 2 weeks but yeah, he could have ripped my arm off,” Dick said. He ran his hand along the waistband of your sleep shorts. You inhaled quickly.

“You’re too casual for a man that almost died,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dick answered sliding his hand in your shorts to play in your folds. Your eyes closed and you forgot all about scars and Killer Croc as he fingered you.

“Condoms?” You gasped. He grinned as he kissed along the column of your neck.

“One minute,” Dick said getting up. You watched him move around the room. His boner extremely obvious in his sleep pants. He came back with a few attached together.

“3?”

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he smirked and you laughed. That was Dick for you. Cheeky no matter what. He pushed down his pants and rolled it on as you slid out of your panties and shorts. Dick stared down at your wet pussy. He already knew from fingering you but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the sight.

Dick climbed back over you and kissed you soundly. “Ready?” He asked and you nodded. Dick slowly thrust in and you made a soft sound. He started moving and found a good pace. It was great for missionary but it wasn’t like either of you didn’t have the ability to be a little more flexible in positions.

“I want to try something,” you whispered in his ear and he looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Go on,” Dick said excitedly. You pushed him off of you and he eagerly complied. You stood up and bent at the waist and wrapped your arms around the back of your knees with your legs closed giving Dick one hell of a show.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. Dick moved behind you. “Like this?” He asked and you nodded. Dick slowly slid in with his hands on your hips making all kinds of little noises. “You look fucking amazing baby. Truly.”

You let Dick move for a while in this position. He alternated between holding your hips and grabbing your ass to slightly spread it to watch better. It was possible he’d never been that horny in his life. It felt amazing on your part but there was something you wanted to try without telling him.

You slowly moved your hands to the floor and put your weight on one leg. And with a smirk, you lifted one leg up and Dick inhaled deeply as you lifted it up to his shoulder. He held your leg and moaned loudly. His hips stopped and he was panting.

“Fuck, you almost made me cum right then,” he groaned. His hips started moving and all of took was a little shake of your ass for him to cum despite himself. “Fuck,” he groaned while burying himself deep. As soon as he was done, he pulled out and helped you stand up. You noted a little dusting of pink in his cheeks and ears.

“I’ll get you back. Lay down,” he said and you nodded and laid on the bed. It was no time at all that he had his lips wrapped around your clit and fingers in your core as your grabbed his hair in pleasure.

“Fuck! Dick! Fuck!” You cried, completely ignoring the fact that it was 7 am and you were in a hotel. He seemed to be hell bent on making up for the fact that he came first. Your thighs shook and you weren’t even sure but you probably screamed when you came. Dick peppered kisses up your body with a smirk as you heaved in breaths.

“Like that,” he said wryly, pulling you into his arms.

“You already know that,” you answered. He ran a finger along your arm and kissed your hair.

“So this...” he started but trailed off.

“Yeah...”

“Do you wanna... try again? Us?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you said biting your lip.

“Give it a shot?” He asked hopeful. You sat in silence for a second.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He said with a smile.

“Yeah,” you answered shyly. He grinned and kissed you again. He rolled on top of you.

“Since I fucked up the first round, I should make it up to you,” he said playfully. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“If. You. Can,” you whispered in his ear. By the end of the morning, the hotel security had come to knock on your door to quiet down.

#friday night smut #dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick Grayson smut #batboy smut #batboy x reader

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badgirlcovenrep · 3 years ago

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omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

#chenrich fanfic #send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #alex chen #alex chen × steph gingrich #steph gingrich

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seiyasabi · 4 years ago

Text

Trouble In Paradise

(This is a Yandere Kyoutani x Cute Fem Reader x Yandere (Platonic) Older Bro Iwa-chan fic :)) This takes place after high school, in a universe where everyone still plays volleyball.

TW; Jealousy!, turns into dubcon/noncon!!!!, !unwanted choking!, As I’ve said in the past-every character I write for (in my head) are like two feet taller than you!, Possessive behaviour!, he’s highkey soft for u but is still a bastard lol (love him), marking kink!, creampie!, daddy kink!, mentions of Oikawa lowkey being a Yandere too, etc..

Kyoutan deserves the world ;)) I love him ajadskhafkah also, sorry if my use of ‘chan’ is cringey, I think it’s funny af tbh, and since I’m Japanese, I’ll do what I want lmao. Anyways, sorry if this sucks, I tried like 5 different ways to write this, and this was the only one that ended up being somewhat decent. )

Skipping to the loud gym, your skirt swishes against the fat of your thighs. Your cute ass can be seen peeking out from under the pleated fabric, leaving those around you to coo at your pretty self. Without meaning to, you catch the eye of those around you.

Seeing the gym’s doors, you push them open with an excited vigour, happy to finally be with your big brother and boyfriend.

Immediately when you enter, you see Oikawa being swarmed with his fanclub, leaving a straight shot to the rest of the team. Spotting your bad-boy bf, you squeal in delight, gunning at him at top speed. He’s currently sitting on the bleachers, your brother seemingly scolding him for his RBF and bad attitude, but his eyes snap up in an instant, recognising your voice from anywhere.

An uncharacteristic smile is present on his pierced face, standing to his feet, he readies himself to catch you and twirl you around. That’s a plus of being in shape; picking up your supes cute gf whenever you please!

That is, until a certain pretty boy steps in the way.

Tooru has his arms out, in a stance that will allow him to catch you with ease. Before you could slow down and avoid him, he yoinks you up and off of the floor, holding you in a tight embrace, “(Your Name)-chan! I knew you’d come visit me! I’ve been waiting all day for you, Cutie!” The glares from your boyfriend and brother are instantaneous.

Iwa looks ready to scalp the brunet, whilst Ken looks ready to scrap-possibly even catch a body. Oikawa’s fans look absolutely bloodthirsty, jealous of your cute self being in the arms of the equally cute male.

Pouting, you push at the pretty boy’s chest, “Put me down! I’m not here for you!” He coos at you, moving in to kiss you on the cheek, only for you to push him away by his face, “Stop it, you’re being weird! Put me down, I wanna see Ken-Chan!”

By this point, your boyfriend and brother have made their way to you, ready to rip him to shreds, “Put my sister down, Shittykawa! Don’t be a perv!” He karate chops the starlet on the head, causing him to drop you in surprise.

“Iwa-Chan! You’re so mean to me! Now look what you did, (Your Name)-Chan is hurt-” Kentarou catches you in an instant, cradling you in his scarred arms. Oikawa’s mouth gapes in shock, brain not computing the fact that the dyed haired male moved at lightning speed.

“No, she ain’t,” He gruffs out, smooching you on the cheek. You giggle, hugging the tatted male tightly. Your (size) breasts smoosh against his buff chest, as you start to pepper kisses all over his face, “She ain’t ever gettin’ hurt if I’m here,” He places a kiss on your lips, relishing how you immediately kiss back.

“Ken-Chan! I missed you so much!” He rolls his eyes, the tips of his ears turning red. Readjusting his hold on you, he cradles your ass instead of your thighs, causing you to gasp, “Kyoutan, don’t be a perv!”

He smirks, readying himself to respond, only for your brother to beat you to it, “Yeah, ‘Kyoutan,’ don’t be perving on my little sister!” Redirecting his smug look, he sticks his tongue out at your fuming sibling.

“Bite me.”

The look on Hajime’s face is priceless, “Biting you isn’t the only thing you need to worry about-”

“Haji,” His attention immediately snaps to your sweet face, which is currently pouting, “Don’t threaten him! He’s precious to me!” Before Kyoutani can say something smart, you rest your head against his neck, practically nuzzling him, which also shuts him up.

The spikey haired ace is immediately offended, “I-wha-(Nickname), aren’t I precious to you? Aren’t I your most wonderful older brother?” You giggle, nodding your head.

“Yes! But Ken-Chan is baby-”

“(Nickname)-Chan, aren’t I baby?! I feel so left out!” Oikawa and his fangirls are off to the side, watching the interaction. Whilst Oinks looks positively offended and left out, the girls are angry that you’ve stolen the captain’s attention.

“No, you’re the ugly side character,” Hajime states nonchalantly.

“Yea, yer uglier than the dirt under (Your Name)’s shoe,” Offended noises and indignant hand movements follow their words, as his fans start to shout in anger and shock.

You lightly whack Kyoutani on the shoulder, scolding him with your eyes, “Haji, Kyoutan, don’t be mean! Tooru is pretty,” The setter preens in delight, “But, he’s dumb. So, he’s the dumb, but pretty, character!”

His hands grasp his chest as if you’d stabbed him, “(Nickname)-Chan, my heart, it’s breaking-” He fake gags, causing your brother and boyfriend to roll their eyes, “The only way to fix it…. Is to get a kiss!” He bolts towards you, causing you to shriek in surprise. Placing you on your feet, you’re quickly placed behind the dyed haired man, ‘Mad Dog’ making an appearance.

Practically frothing at the mouth, he snarls at Oikawa, whilst Hajime sticks out his foot, effectively tripping him. Once falling, the pierced male yanks him up by his shirt collar, and hauls him up to his feet. Now face to face with the scary male, Oikawa gulps in fear, “I’ll kill ya, put ya in the ground, Pretty Boy. Once yer dead, Iwaizumi’ll dance over yer corpse.”

“Yes, I think I will,” Hearing his bestie agree with the sentiment, Oinks finally realises that he messed around too much.

“Now, yer gonna apologise to (Your Name), or I’ll shave yer head,” Now fully standing, Kyoutani moves out of the way, allowing the setter to apologise face-to-face.

Dropping to his hands and knees, he starts to bow at you as if you’re royalty, “I’m sorry, (Your Name)-Chan! I promise I didn’t mean to offend you! Please don’t let Mad Dog-Chan and Iwa-Chan kill me!” Giggling at his over the top words, you nod your head.

“It’s okay, Tooru-Chan,” You pat his head reassuringly, “I know you love your fangirls more than me,” This causes the gym to erupt into cheers, as the other girls start to swarm the male. You can hear him scream in fear, but are quickly pulled away from the crime scene, and taken out to the car park.

Your brother holds you close to him, glaring at your boyfriend who looks equally as angry. There’s a heavy silence between the three of you, as you’re squished into a hug by your brother.

“Haji, why’re you holding me so tight? Don’t you have to get back to practice?” He doesn’t answer, instead speaking to your boyfriend.

“Take her home, Kyoutani. I’ll deal with him now, you can deal with him later,” He nods, taking you from your older brother’s arms, and practically carrying you to his motorcycle. Setting you on the back of the bike, he opens the back hatch of the bike, and pulls out your pastel pink helmet. Placing it onto your head tenderly, he flips the eye cover up, allowing you to see him clearly for a moment.

Smiling up at him (he can only see your eyes crinkle), you speak, “Hi!” His pissed off face immediately dissolves, causing him to smile at your cute self.

“Hi, Baby,” Grabbing his rough hands, you interlace your fingers between his.

“Aren’t you going to practice, Kyo-Ken?” He rolls his eyes, but gives your hands a squeeze.

“Nah, I gotta take my Baby Girl home, so I can show her who she belongs to,” He gives you a wink, leaving you to splutter in surprise.

“You-you can’t say that in public!” Chuckling, he releases your hands and flips your eye cover down, before chucking on his own helmet, and settling on the front of the bike.

Pulling Your arms around his waist, he waits for you to settle against him. He relishes your tight hold, as you practically cling onto him for dear life.

Starting up the engine, he kicks up the kick stand, and speeds off to your shared apartment.

Your body bounces off of the mattress, as you let out a small scream. A giggle escapes your lips, as you smile up at Kyoutani, “Ken-Ken, are you still mad?” He nods, his hands pulling off your cropped sweater, and pushing up your skirt to expose your pastel yellow panties.

“That ugly bastard should’a know better than t’a put his disgusting hands on ya,” He practically growls, undoing your bra and letting your pretty tits flop out. Kissing up your neck, he sucks hickies onto the previously unblemished skin. A small moan leaves your lips at the feeling, as he starts to pinch and twist your nipples.

“Daddy!” He releases your neck with a ‘pop,’ smirking down at you.

“Yes, Princess? Do ya need something?” He rubs the skin on the inside of your thighs, purposefully missing your dampening cunny, “Do ya need yer Daddy to touch yer Princess parts?”

Nodding, you plead with him, “Yes! Please touch me!”

Chuckling, he pulls your panties off of you, letting the cool air of your shared room caress your cunny. Running a single finger up your slit, he barely taps your clit, causing your hips to jerk up and off of the mattress, “Yer such a sensitive baby, I love ya so much.”

“I love you too, Daddy! Please fuck me!” He hums, mulling over your words.

“Want me to show everyone who ya belong to?” You nod your head rapidly.

“Yes! Yes, please!” Kissing you on the lips sloppily, he reaches down to pull out his cock from his Adidas sport shorts. His tip is pierced, and when he rubs it against your clit, you practically see stars.

“My good, cute, polite girl,” He gathers your slick on his tip, before he pushes in. Your walls burn as you try to accommodate to his thick size, practically sucking the air from your lungs. A wanton moan is heard from you, as he waits for you to accept him comfortably, “Relax, Princess. Let me int’a yer pretty cunny.”

“Da-Daddy,” Your arms wrap around him, clawing at his shirt covered back, “You’re too big!” He shushes you softly, rubbing your clit with two fingers. Your juices slowly drip out of you and onto his cock. After a moment, he begins to move, practically rearranging your guts.

“You’ve taken me before, Princess. I know ya can do it, just let me in,” He starts to thrust into you at a medium speed, rubbing your clit at the same pace. Your eyes glaze over, practically rolling into the back of your head.

His cock is heavy and girthy inside of your slick walls, spearing you open with each thrust. Moans and keens leave your throat, as you grip onto him. Your hips meet his, your juices spraying onto the both of you.

“Look at my pretty baby, so fucked out already,” He uses the hand that’s not on your clit to grasp your throat, causing your body to go rigid and eyes to go wide.

“Ken-” He shuts you up with a kiss, swallowing your words. You try to push his hand off, but it’s to no avail. He continues to fuck into you, your cunny still sucking him in, even as you’re scared of his actions.

“Fuck, yer practically milking me for all I’ve got,” He removes his lips from yours, his grip becoming a bit tighter, “Ya want yer Daddy to cum in ya? Yea ya do.”

Now, you’re really pushing against him. You’re not on the pill, “Ken, pull out!” He shushes you, rubbing on your clit even harder than before, trying to make you cum before him. Kentarou relishes the small tears at the corner of your eyes, loving how cute you look.

Without you wanting to, you cum with a small gush of liquid, a whine echoing through your chest. He follows not long after you, filling you to the brim with his virile cum.

With a grunt and a huff, he pulls out of you, loving how his cum looks leaking out of you. Removing his hand from your throat, he looks down once more, realising that you don’t look very happy.

“You didn’t listen to me,” You rub the hand mark around your neck, as you sit up, moving away from him.

“Awe, don’t be like that, Baby,” He reaches out for you, but you move away from him.

“I don’t want to be near you right now, Kyoutani. You didn’t stop…” Moving off of the bed, you stand to your feet. Going to your dresser, you grab a week’s worth of clothes, including your work uniform. Pulling on a new shirt, you fix your previous outfit, as you start to cry.

“Wait-I-ya-ya aren’t leaving me, are ya?” For once, the spitfire male is at a loss for words.

“No, I just need time away from you. You say that Tooru is bad, but you hurt me a lot just now. I’m calling Haji, and I’m going to stay with him for a little while,” Your brother has your daily items there, just because you’d sleep over sometimes, so you aren’t too worried about not having soap and such.

Grabbing your phone from your purse by your bedroom door, you call him, Ken watching you with wide eyes, “Haji, please pick me up. Kyoutani and I got into a fight.”

Hajime helps you into his car, before turning to the still shocked male you call your boyfriend. He hasn’t said a word, if anything, he looks shocked beyond anything else.

Shutting the car door, your brother finally speaks, “I knew you were no good for her. Your jealousy got the better of you.”

“I didn’t mean to, it-it just-”

“Got out of control?” Your brother raises an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest, “Yeah, I’ve noticed. You hurt my little sister,” He moves closer to the dyed haired man, eyes flashing with anger, “You choked her out. Why? Because Oikawa made you jealous? Despicable.”

“It isn’t like that! We-we were having se-” He holds up a hand, stopping your boyfriend from continuing.

“I don’t want to hear it. Just know that if you come near her without her allowing you to be in her presence, I’ll kill you. I never wanted you to be with her, and you just proved my fears correct.”

Realisation dawns on Kyoutani, “Wait- is this why ya wanted me to come home with her? So I could fuck up?”

Hajime smirks, “Of course. My little sister is too good for you. Now, fuck off, before I do something you won’t like.”

Ken watches as you go, tears brimming his eyes. He should’ve known your brother would find you too precious to be with him. He most likely asked Oikawa to help him, seeing as the pretty boy was in the car with you, looking as perfect as ever.

He fucked up, and now Hajime has won their rivalry.

#kyoutani x you #kyoutani kentarou #kyoutani x reader #yandere kyoutani #yandere iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader

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writingthingsisdifficult · 3 years ago

Text

Good intentions

Bucky Barnes x reader

Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.

Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.

Everybody's alive.

When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?

***

Part 1: Matchmaker

Word count: 4412

It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.

I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.

A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.

The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""

The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.

"No, but check the roof."

The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips. The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.

Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.

"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.

Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”

The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”

Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."

A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.

Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"

I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."

"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.

Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."

She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."

"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"

"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"

"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"

"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."

"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."

The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.

"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."

She sighed. "I won't."

I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"

"Who's a partypooper?"

I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.

He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”

“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”

I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.

"Y/N has a crush and –"

"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.

"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"

"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.

Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.

It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."

She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."

This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“

“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.

Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.

I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.

Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.

Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"

She nodded, but the grin never left her face.

Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"

Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"

Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”

“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.

“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."

“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”

The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.

Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.

The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.

Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.

Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.

Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.

Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.

The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.

During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.

When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.

“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.

“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”

“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.

“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.

“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”

“But -“

“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.

“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.

“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”

“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.

Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."

"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."

"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."

Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.

"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"

"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."

I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."

Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."

"Fly safe."

"I always do."

"Really now?"

"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"

"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."

With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.

***

Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.

"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?

"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."

Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."

"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."

That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.

An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.

Natasha shrugged. "Late?"

At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."

"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."

My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.

Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.

I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.

Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.

"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.

Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.

"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"

"Ooh, pizza!"

I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.

"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"

"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"

"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."

I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."

Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.

I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.

Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"

At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.

No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.

"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.

Part 2: Eel infested waters

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic #good intentions #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu

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bcdwhcre · 4 years ago

Note

hello love !! i absolutely adore your writing, i find you do the characters so much justice <3 i was wondering if you would be able to do a piece where the reader, a mewly appointed captain of the regiment, has a talent for drawing that no one knew about. she suddenly finds time for this hobby and commences drawing portraits of her fellow comrades, mainly of levi, and picks up the habit of leaving all the sketches under the door of erwins chambers once a month, thinking it would be a great anonymous gift or at least, some fun. levi does not see it as fun and instead is convinced this is a threat to him directly and that someone is watching them, making it known that they can attack at any time. everyone hunts for the culprit in secret, the reader doesn’t know bcs she’s in the capital delivering something. levi finds out it was the reader and they fight physically about it, accusing her of treason etc... until reader confesess it was her and that she had feelings for him, he says he likes her back but she should’ve brought a different approach , fluff in the end <3 much love <33

“Works of Art,” Levi x Reader

Why can I see Levi being dramatic like this over some drawings🤧💀

Summary: You’re secretly an artist that draws your fellow comrades (mostly Levi) and secretly leave it under their door but Levi takes it as a threat.

Warnings: none

You had sat in your room, pencil in hand and a piece of paper laid out in front of you. You didn’t know what to draw at first but your mind settled on your previous Captain.

You’ll admit that most of your drawings has been Levi and you couldn’t help but feel the urge to draw him, he had the most perfect facial structure- at least to you and it was much better to draw out on paper.

Of course you’ve drawn your other comrades from time to time. You’ve even slide the drawings underneath their doors at odd hours so nobody knew it was you.

It’s not like you didn’t want them to know but a scout spending their days slaughtering Titans just to come home and draw wasn’t exactly an ideal topic you wanted to get into.

As time went on, the more you paint and draw out Levi on the canvas in front of you, your stomach would flutter, being able to admire his face without staring him down from across the room.

You admired Levi more than anything, he really inspired you in ways he doesn’t even know about. The first day you saw him riding down the town with his horse, coming back from a expedition and you were standing off to the side just a teenager.

That day, that look on his face, the way he carried his team and was the most popular for his skills- you wanted to be like him and after convincing your family (more like telling them you’re not taking no for an answer) they finally let you go off to the training corps.

Now years later, you’re here. You were under Levi’s team for well over two years before you got pushed up to be a Captain but you missed the moments being under Levi’s team- you enjoyed every moment. You missed the days he’ll willingly train you and push you towards success and that was the main reason why you were so great at being a scout, why you were pushed up as a Captain.

You looked up to him, you watched his work and you trained yourself into oblivion to be as good as he is.

Now you’re sitting here on your day off painting his face. You were embarrassed thinking too hard about it, if he were to walk in right now- it’ll be over for you. You wouldn’t be able to look at his face again.

Months went by quickly, the more drawings you had left under your comrades door- the more Levi started to see it as a threat as he looked at the piece of paper with his face on it.

He even called a meeting with Erwin to discuss about the drawings, he felt as if he was being targetted- that the scouts were being targetted and he didn’t take this lightly.

He was more determined to find out who it is and even told a few close comrades to search in secret. You didn’t know this- only because you were in the town doing some work.

Levi noticed you didn’t come to the meeting and walked inside your office, his eyes looking around and he didn’t want to be nosey but out of the corner of his eye- towards the back of the office tucked in the corner was some paint.

This interested him enough to walk over, flipping open the sketch book and seeing the pages, the drawings and even found a few of his face. This immediately boiled his blood, you were a traitor- you were targeting him- that’s all he could think of.

He stormed out of there, grabbing his things and walked outside to try and find you. It was absolutely the worst timing for you- you stepped inside the land where the base was at while fixing the uncomfortable gear you wore around your waist until unexpectedly Levi had charged at you with his sword.

You were thinking this is his sick way of testing out your ability and training- he usually did back when you worked under him.

You slipped your blade out with ease and blocked his attack that near struck your face.

“Levi?!” Your eyes were wide at how close the blade was, he could’ve easily killed you and he didn’t seem phased.

Instead he used his leg to trip you on your back, wincing at the impact of the ground and he held his blade towards your throat with his foot rested on top of your chest to prevent you from moving.

“What the hell are you doing? Is this some sick training exercise?”

“Why have you been sending threats to my office, brat?” He stared at you with a look of disgust on his face and you froze, what threats?

“What are you talking about?”

“The drawings. Are you a traitor? Are you threatening to kill me?” He pressed the blade down more, the tip of it just barely touching your skin but from how sharp it was- it was made a cut.

“They’re just drawings, Levi!” You gave him a crazy look, he was acting completely insane, who acts like this over drawings of them? Shouldn’t he feel special?

“Why is your sketch book mostly my face then, hm? Explain that before I slice your throat here.”

You opened your mouth to say something but quickly shut it. You didn’t want to openly admit your feelings towards him and you sure felt violated for him snooping around in your office. But you also felt completely embarrassed- he’s seen your sketch book.

A lump formed in your throat, your eyes looking away from his as your cheeks started to grow hot and he got impatient, grabbing the collar of your shirt and yanked you up on your feet.

Now you were face to face with him, the dirty look he was giving you could instantly kill you if it was possible and you felt intimidated and terrified.

“Use your words, brat! I’m running out of patience.”

“Okay! Okay.” You put your hands up in defeat, your eyes connecting with his and your hands started to get sweaty.

“I- uh... how do I put this? Most of my drawings are... of you. Only because I admire you, you’ve inspired me to join, to train harder than most and I also.. like you.” You rushed the last part out, your cheeks red as a tomato and he stared at you in disbelief at first.

“So, you draw me because you like me?”

“Yeah, exactly.” You stuttered, biting down onto your bottom lip and he let go of you collar, making you stumble back.

“Why be so secretive about it then?” He asked, putting his blade away and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re not the easiest person to open up to, Levi.” You admitted, scratching the back of your neck and he gave you a unamused look.

“Look, Y/N.” He started off, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Honestly, you could’ve just done it in a different way instead of acting like a spy. Maybe if you would’ve been straight forward, I would tell you I like you just as much.” He looked up at you again, making your heart stop for a quick second.

Did he just admit feelings for you after holding a blade to your throat? You were stunned, you didn’t even know what to say about his confession but it made butterflies fly around in your stomach and your cheeks were turning a shade of red again.

He noticed how flustered you were, chuckling to himself and reached over to place his hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the warm skin and your eyes stared into his.

“Oh- sorry, I guess I should’ve done a different approach.” You said quietly, your hands starting to get shaky as his eyes burned right through you.

“Yeah, you should’ve.” He rolled his eyes, gesturing him to follow you inside and you were quick to follow behind him as he went straight for your office.

Once both of you were inside, he was quick to grab your sketch book and open it back up again. He turned more pages and looked at the drawings he didn’t bother to examine earlier.

You felt shy being in here and watching him go through your sketch book at the many drawings of his face- you even had a drawing of his hands and that made him laugh under his breath at the sight of it.

“You’re talented, I give you that.” He closed the book, setting it down and walked to where you were as you leaned back against your desk.

“Oh, thank you.” You gave him a shy smile, your heart pounding in your chest the closer he got to you.

“Now what if I actually killed you because you were being so sneaky?” He asked quietly, the sarcasm in his tone made you tilt your head as you thought about it.

“Guess I would’ve died an idiot.”

He rolled his eyes again, standing in front of you and even leaned forward to trap you between your desk and his body as he gripped onto the edges of the desk, his eyes staying on yours.

He tilted his head, almost admiring your face and you stayed quiet as the tension grew between the both of you.

“How bout you draw me right here, right now.” He offered, making you raise your eyebrows at his suggestion.

“Really?” He nodded his head, a smile coming across your face as he stepped back and grabbed one of the chairs.

You were quick to grab your sketch book and sit down in front of him, the excitement running through your veins as you grabbed a pencil and opened up to a empty page.

Your eyes moved up to meet his, watching the smile on his face only grow and it made your heart flutter considering it was rare to see him smile and it was rare for him to even agree to do something like this.

But he sat in front you, intrigued and wanting to watch your work up close and how it’s done. He was also very intrigued in you and the hobby you loved so much.

During the time of you drawing him, you had finished up his face before he had leaned over and grabbed a hold of your chin in his hand.

The sudden contact caught you off guard, your eyes staring into his before he had planted his lips on yours in a short but soft kiss.

When he pulled away, he had licked his lips and leaned back against the seat, urging you to continue on as your shaky hand tried to finish off the work of art named Levi.

Woooooooo hello

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ginnympotter · 3 years ago

Text

call it even

Chapter 2: for old times’ sake

A/N: uhhh so spoiler or whatever but this has a small amount of pretty mild smut? which i've never attempted i can't believe i'm pressing post on this thing please don't judge me lol you can also read this chapter on AO3

I’m parked between the Methodist and school.

She read the text, looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and braced herself. She took her coat off the hook and as she was zipping it up she heard her mother coming down the stairs. “Ginny, hun, are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she said, grabbing the doorknob, trying to get out as quick as she could.

But before she could walk out Molly asked, “You know Harry could have come in, right?”

She looked at her mother’s smug smile and groaned. “Goodnight, Mom,” and swung the door shut behind her.

She walked quickly two blocks down, turned right and crossed the street. It was easy to spot Harry’s old truck, not just because there were only 3 other cars parked on that road, but also because it stuck out like a sore thumb, and also was a staple in so many of their memories. She knocked on the passenger side’s window and opened the car door, hopping into the seat. She looked over at Harry to say hi, and saw him smiling. “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course,” Harry said as she shut the door. “But why did you make me park two blocks over?”

“Because I didn’t want it to be awkward, with me staying at my parents’ house, but it didn’t even matter because my mom just knew I was going to hang out with you.”

“Molly knows all.”

“Too much.” She looked over at their old high school building, and then at the field they were parked in front of, nostalgia filling her up. “Nice parking spot.”

“It’s weird working at the school we went to. Where those bleachers are,” Harry responded. She felt a tightness in her throat, feeling both excited and uneasy that he was already bringing these types of things up. “Remember how pissed Molly was when we skipped the prom?”

“Thank God she never found us under those,” Ginny heard herself respond. She and Harry looked at one another, twin smirks on their faces. The school bleachers might not be exactly the ideal, romantic place to lose your virginity, but for them it made total sense. She collected herself before her thoughts would get her carried away. “So, um, where to? Everywhere’s closed.”

“Did you eat already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay, um...maybe we could just drive around for a bit? And then head back to my place for a glass of wine?”

Memories from last year flashed in her mind. She nodded and buckled herself in silently. He started the car, the engine gave a loud and disquieting noise, and then they took off. “I cannot believe this truck is still running.”

Harry lightly tapped the dashboard. “She never lets me down.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and sniggered. She looked out the window as they drove down the roads. “Believe it or not I kind of missed this place. Has it changed at all?”

“The same as it ever was,” Harry responded. “But I know you don’t like it that way.”

His eyes were on the road but she could feel what he meant without seeing his face. “I do, sometimes,” she clarified, hoping he would hear her for what she meant. “Is Dumbledore still principal?”

“Yeah, he is,” Harry told her. “And McGonagall still teaches math.”

“You were always their favorite.”

“Dumbledore’s, maybe,” he shrugged. “But McGonagall? She still goes on about my dad. They have tea together like, once a month.”

“But McGonagall let you get away with basically everything. She was just sly about it.”

“Much to Snape’s chagrin.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me he still works there?”

“Unfortunately.” Ginny blanched, and Harry laughed in appreciation. “He was so pissed when Dumbledore hired me. I just avoid him at all costs.”

“I can’t believe you willingly accepted a job where you have to see Snape every day.”

“I know. It’s worth it, though. I really love teaching,” he said. They halted at a stop sign and he used the opportunity to look at her as he said, “You helped me realize that.”

“I was a great tutee, if I do say so myself,” she smiled. “How about the coaching bit? Did the kids ever recover from their loss?”

Harry drove them around all the backroads as he talked about coaching and working at the school. Much of the anxiety she was holding inside her had slowly melted away as they eased back into their regular rapport. Her heart felt like it doubled in size as he talked about his favorite students (though at first proclaiming, “I don’t play favorites, but…”). He asked her more about life in LA and her first year being a starter.

When they arrived at Harry’s apartment, Ginny hung up her coat and watched as Harry’s eyes not so subtly raked over her body before he turned to his cabinet and took out two wine glasses. She sat in the same spot she did the last time she was on his sofa as Harry listed off various wine options. Harry updated her on all the most recent Tupelo gossip as they drank and reminisced on the different characters they grew up with. Every time he smiled she felt a piece of her heart break, she missed seeing it so much.

Harry must’ve sensed it- or perhaps he heard the crack inside her chest- as one of those times his smile dropped to a frown as he looked at her with concern. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny tried, taking the last sip of her wine and placing the glass down on the coffee table. She then noticed the People Magazine cover where she was in a little square on the top right for her interview with them last month.

She picked it up and held it in front of Harry, who suddenly turned red. “Er, I, um-” he stammered, and she laughed.

“Fred and George were just making fun of me for this yesterday at their party.”

“What’s to make fun of?” Harry asked, attempting to recover. “I think you did great.”

“Just a bit corny of a profile, I guess,” she responded. “Can I ask why you have it?”

Harry sighed, giving Ginny a very pointed look.

“What?”

“I have it because I was proud of you,” he replied carefully, taking another sip of his wine. “Is that a bad thing?”

And before she could register exactly what she was saying, the words “You could’ve texted me” flew out of her mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “About the People profile?”

“Sure,” she said. Her brain telling her shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, but her mouth continued. “Or any other time before that. Or after I left this apartment after my brother’s wedding.”

Just as quickly as Harry’s face reddened before, it had now drained of all color. “I, er… I don’t-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “You could’ve texted me too, you know.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Ginny,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can’t we just...enjoy our time together while you’re here? Before you leave in a few days? I don’t want to fight.”

“Why didn’t you?” she repeated, more quietly this time.

“You know why,” he said defiantly, in an equally low voice.

“I don’t, actually.”

He groaned, putting his glass down next to hers before looking at her intensely. He looked tired, sad. “Because the only thing I wanted to text you was to ask you to stay. And I couldn’t ask that; it wouldn’t be right.”

She had an inkling that this would be his answer, but it still felt nice to hear him confirm it. “No, I suppose not.”

“And I wanted to text you so many times after, but… I was too afraid of what I’d say. And then too much time passed, and- I don’t know, I’m sorry, Gin.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Harry blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question. “No,” he said.

“Neither am I,” she told him, and then moved closer to him, so close that their legs touched. “You’re right, you couldn’t ask me to stay. But… how about I stay the night, and we could call it even?”

It took Harry a moment to register her proposal. When he did, he swallowed, his adam’s apple protruding against his throat. “Are...are you sure?”

She decided then to let go of her inhibitions, to act on impulse and burning desire, and placed herself on his lap facing him, her knees tightly against his hips, her hands meeting on the back of his neck, lightly scratching the bottom of his scalp. “I’m sure.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Right, then,” he mumbled, and then his lips were crashing against hers, and his arms moved her impossibly closer to him. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept atop hers; Harry moaned as he did it, as Ginny moved her fingers through his hair and pressed her chest against his. They kissed passionately, slow and hot, then fast and urgent, then slowly again. They fell back into their rhythm seamlessly.

When Ginny pulled away to kiss his neck, Harry’s voice was raspy. “Fuck,” he exhaled. She moved her tongue lightly along his collar bone, up the side of his neck, and to his ear as she ground herself more firmly on his growing erection. He groaned, moving his hands to Ginny’s ass and cupping it. “Fuck,” he repeated. “I missed this. I missed you.”

She was too stimulated to think too much about his words for too long, but nevertheless, they still caused her heart to lurch. And hearing Harry express himself- even just the slightest showing of vulnerability from him- always turned her on even more. She blew hot air on his ear, nibbled on the lobe, and then pulled away to take off his sweater. He smiled in a daze as she got the sweater off of him and discarded it. He didn’t waste another second before throwing off his T-shirt (his glasses momentarily getting caught in the process) and then doing the same to her, so he could have the next several seconds to unhook her lacy blue bra and let it drop to the floor. He leaned back and admired the view of her chest, then glanced up at Ginny before touching her. She gave a quick nod and he let himself feel her breasts in his hands again for the first time in almost a year, massaging them gently, then with more power. Ginny felt herself grow hotter just watching how Harry responded to her. He leaned in and took her right breast in his mouth, using his fingers to play with her left nipple in the way that always drove her mad. She allowed herself to enjoy it fully, moaning as she pleased, arching into him, pulling at his hair as he switched from one to the other.

Before long it was too much, and she grabbed his face and disconnected his mouth from her chest so she could kiss him again. She felt her lips tingle with the touch of his tongue, her skin burn as his hands moved to her back, running down slowly to her waistband, reaching under her pants to touch her bare ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks gently. God, she loved when he did that. After she kissed him thoroughly enough, and her pants felt too wet to wear anymore, she moved to undo Harry’s belt buckle, which in turn encouraged him to unzip her jeans. She removed herself from him so they could remove what was left of their clothes. Seeing how hard he was for her, full and bare, made her weak in the knees yet simultaneously at her most powerful. She pushed Harry back down on the couch, let her knees give in to the floor, and cupped his balls. “Ginny-” Harry grunted, but before anything else could come out of his mouth she took him in her own, licking up his length, sucking gently as she bobbed her head up and down.

It was only around thirty seconds later that Harry stopped her, pulling her head off of him. “Wait, wait, stop-”

Immediately, she felt embarrassed. “Was that...ok?”

“Oh, God, Ginny, of course, it was more than ok, it was fucking amazing but...but I want to help you out first. Please.”

“Harry, it’s fine-”

“No, please,” he said earnestly. “I want to. I really want to.”

She let go of him and nodded wordlessly. He helped her up, laid her down on the couch, and kissed her gently. He then whispered, “Let me make you happy.”

“You always make me happy,” she whispered back. His features changed from eager to wistful. He kissed her again, much more firmly this time, and then worked his mouth from her neck along her body, over each breast, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, before he reached his final destination. Ginny closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he pressed his tongue up and down against her clit.

She didn’t have to think or speak or do anything; Harry knew exactly the way she liked it, no matter how much time in between their sexual activities passed, he never lost track of exactly what made her scream, what made her shake in ecstasy, as she did only a few minutes after he began. As she came down from her high, Harry kissed his way back up her body, until reaching her cheek, which he kissed delicately. “You feel good?” he asked hoarsely.

“Mm,” was all she could respond in the moment, panting from pleasure still.

He chuckled sweetly, kissing her cheek again, then her forehead, then her lips. Once her breathing had steadied somewhat, she heard him speak again. “What else do you want?”

“To fuck you,” she breathed out.

Harry moaned at her words as he pushed his tongue back into her mouth, the vibrations sending tingles down to her toes. “Do you want to move to the bedroom?”

“We can go to your bed for round two,” she told him, smiling widely. “But round one is happening right here, right now on this couch.”

“If you insist,” he said hoarsely, moving over her, wasting not another second. They had already lost enough time.

***

Behind her eyelids, Ginny could feel the light pouring into Harry’s bedroom. She felt a twinge of joy as she moved her arms to find Harry’s torso, but all she could find were the sheets. She opened her eyes and saw that his side of the bed was empty. Her stomach fell as she scanned the room for him. She sat up and heard a bit of clanging around in the kitchen. The bedroom door was half-open. She rose from the bed, opened the drawer where Harry kept his t-shirts, and threw his go-to blue tee over her head. She stepped out of his room and walked down the hall to find Harry, wearing only a pair of boxers and his glasses, his hair as messy as ever, pouring an omelet onto a plate with expert ease.

“Morning,” she said quietly.

He turned to look at her and grinned, looking her over. “Morning. Nice shirt.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone in there. I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet, Harry.” She went to sit at the island and he waved his hands. “No, no, not here!”

“Excuse me?”

“Breakfast in bed ,” he clarified. “I’ll bring it in, you go relax, I just am finishing up on the home fries and then I’ll bring it right in.”

“You sure?”

He waved his spatula in the direction of his room. “Go on, now!”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him fondly before turning around and heading back down the hall. “Fine, but I’m using your bathroom first.”

“Do what you must.”

After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, she settled back into Harry’s bed and scrolled through her phone. Only a few minutes later, Harry entered with their plates, handing one to her and planting a tender kiss on her forehead. Her insides melted at the gesture. She softly thanked him, scooted over and dug in. Harry sat on his side but at the foot of the bed, his legs folded and his plate on his lap, that way he could face her. They ate in silence, exchanging occasional grins. She felt slightly distracted by his shirtless form and the way their feet touched. When she finished she handed Harry her plate. “That was delicious, thank you. Compliments to the chef.”

“My pleasure,” he told her. “I like cooking for people.”

“Perhaps if this teaching thing doesn’t work you can go to culinary school.”

“I know you’re joking, but I’d honestly consider it,” he said as he stacked their empty plates and leaned over to put them on his bedside table. He then sat beside her and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. “What would you like to do today? That is, if you don’t have any other pressing plans…”

“I do have a hot date or two lined up, but I could always reschedule them for next year,” she joked.

“How kind of you,” he replied, picking up her hand and kissing it. Ginny was finding it hard to control herself with all the seemingly small, natural affection he was showing. “But really, anything in mind?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we’d sleep in half the day- just for old times’ sake?”

Harry chuckled, glancing at the clock. “It’s already 10am. You want to go back to sleep?”

“Well, maybe not right away,” she said, lacking subtlety. “Thought we could do something to tire us out first.”

“Hmm,” Harry pretended to think. “What could that be?”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, and he sighed, using his free hand to cup her face. After kissing each other sweetly for a minute or two, Harry let go of her hand to grab her and pull her onto his lap. He quickly realized that other than his shirt she wasn’t wearing anything else at all, moaning as he grabbed her ass. He deepened the kiss and Ginny became wrapped up in its intensity, returning it right to him, her hands wrapped up in his hair. Although her body was in the driver’s seat, her mind and heart were racing, thinking about how much this man meant to her, how much she felt like herself when she was with him, how much he made her feel like she could do anything. She cherished every second she could steal with him, before all she’d have is memories to replay until the next time, cementing the feel and the taste of him into her brain. She didn’t want it to ever end.

But not before long, Harry seemed to slow down, and then he pulled away altogether. When Ginny leaned back in to continue the kiss, he barely reciprocated.

“Harry?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I…” He looked at her and she could see the storm of emotions in his emerald eyes. He leaned his head against hers and exhaled. “I’m fine. But...can we pause this for a moment? Can we talk?”

A wave of dread washed over her as she nodded her head and removed herself from his lap. Sensing her tension, Harry grabbed her hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “What is it?” she asked reluctantly.

He inhaled deeply, his forehead creased. “When you leave later today, I… I don’t want it to be like last time.”

“Well, that’s easy then,” Ginny told him, attempting a smile. “All you have to do is text me when I land back in L.A. this time.”

“And what would that imply, exactly?” Harry questioned. “Me texting you, that is.”

“It-” but Ginny realized she didn’t really have an answer- or, at least, she couldn’t give the answer she really wanted. “It would mean that this wasn’t just some meaningless thing to you.”

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Is that what you really thought? Or what you’ll think if you leave later?”

Ginny considered his question. “I suppose not.”

“Of course not,” he corrected her, speaking with conviction as he squeezed her hand. “Ginny… I still-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him. “Don’t say it.”

She wanted to hear him say it, of course she did, but she would never be able to leave if she let him continue. She felt her heart break a bit at Harry’s disappointed expression. “What do you want me to say then?” he asked, his voice quiet but his tone stabbing. “That I don’t care about you? That I don’t miss you? That I don’t think about you every time I try to date someone else? I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but I have to tell you, I can’t even fathom you thinking for even one second that anything between us could ever be meaningless to me. I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I don’t know how to do this.”

“No,” she said as she put a hand on his leg. She couldn’t take it anymore. He was right, hearing all of that was too hard for her. Knowing the feelings are mutual “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… The meaningless thing was an overreaction, alright? I know… we’ll always mean so much to each other.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes, his thinking face on. Ginny knew that face too well, and she knew he was trying to work out in his mind how to phrase all his feelings. “I just don’t understand why we gave up two years ago. We did long distance from your senior year in high school through all of college and it was fine. I didn’t want to break up. But you were so insistent that this is what was best once you got a spot on the team and I didn’t want to feel like I had to persuade you to stay together and I just…”

Ginny’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was such an ache in his voice… it hurt her to hear. “I don’t know, Harry, I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing,” she settled on. How could she explain giving up on them to him? To herself? “College was one thing, but as working adults? It just felt like we’d never be in the same place, we’d never be able to actually spend time together… I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t realize you…that you would’ve… I thought we were on the same page, I’m sorry.”

“No, I should’ve fought harder for us,” he told her, eyes blazing. “It’s not too late, is it?”

Ginny exhaled as Harry squeezed her hand again. “Harry, I can’t stay here-“

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to wait for me. I don’t know what’s going to come with my career.”

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he asserted. “I don’t want to be with anyone else- I’ve tried, and I’m sure you have too, but we always end up back here, don’t we? I want to be with you. We can figure the rest out as we go. It’s us, you know?”

He smirked at the end of his sentence, and all the feelings she’d been holding in for two years seemed to boil over at once. God, she missed that smile. The same smile as the one she dreamed about every day when she was only 11 and he spent every summer day over at their house with Ron. The same smile that he gave her after their first kiss, and after they skipped the prom and hid out under the bleachers, and when he came home to visit from college for the first time, and when he visited her in her dorm, and when he saw her standing in her bridesmaid dress at Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and then when he took it off of her later that night, and when they bumped into each other at the airport a few months ago, and just last night as she curled up against him in his bed and kissed him goodnight.

Tears warned to spill over, and she cursed herself for blinking one free. Harry put a hand on her face and wiped it for her with his thumb. He looked deeply into her eyes, which only caused more tears to fall. He wiped another for her, and then he kissed one away, and then he kissed her lips so gently she could barely register it.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice for some type of answer.

She looked away from him, staring down at their knees. “I still don’t know, Harry. I’m confused. Everything you’re saying… I want that, I do, but it just doesn’t… seem practical. And… I mean, if we did get back together, what about everything after that? Do you want to stay in Tupelo forever?”

“Not necessarily,” he responded flatly. “I love my job now but I don’t know if I’ll still want to be here in a few years… But do we need to be making those types of decisions now?”

“Well if we don’t, then what? We get back together and three years down the line we break up because we realize we’re still not on the same page? I don’t want to waste either of our time.”

Harry let out a defeated sigh, causing Ginny to look up again. The fire in his eyes was being stomped out by disappointment. “Gin, listen… all I know is that ever since I was sixteen all I’ve wanted is to be with you, whatever it took to make that happen. That hasn’t changed, not one bit, even nine years later. I know we can make it work. If it’s not what you want… I don’t want you to be with me if you aren’t fully in it. But I want to be in your life. I don’t know what that looks like for you right now, but however it does, I’ll be there. Even if that’s only as your brother’s best friend.” He offered a sad smile as he finished.

But you’re so much more than that , she wanted to say, but felt like that’d just be proving his point, and she still felt too confused and overwhelmed. Selfishly, she leaned in and kissed him, long enough to memorize the feeling for later but quickly enough to prevent any further persuasion from the magic of his mouth. She braced herself for her own heart’s self-destruction as she opened her eyes and said, “I think I should go home, now.”

Harry’s sadness lingered for a moment, before he channeled his expertise of shutting down, his features flickering to blankness. “If...if that’s what you want. Let me drive you home, at least?”

She wanted to say no, that she’d just order an Uber, but her mouth betrayed her. “Ok.”

He let go of her hand and stood up. “I’ll, er, just throw on some clothes real quick, then run and grab yours and leave you to get dressed.”

She nodded and watched him throw on a pair of jeans, an undershirt, a jumper, and socks rather haphazardly. She listened as his feet creaked across the hallway floors, and waited with bated breath as he made his way back moments later, handing her a pile of her clothes. She muttered a “thank you” and averted his eyes as she took them.

“Take your time,” he told her gently, and made his way back out.

The moment the door clicked closed, she clenched her eyes shut and pushed out all the tears she could, so none would escape for him to see when she would have to face him again. She wiped her face and felt the warmth leave her as she got up from his bed, her haven. She threw off his shirt and put on her clothes from the night before, but folded up his t-shirt and stuffed it in her purse. It was an unspoken agreement between them that she could take as many of his t-shirts as she liked; he bought extras just for her.

She looked in the mirror, quickly threw her hair back in a low ponytail, and inhaled deeply, as if the air entering her lungs would give her courage to move forward as she opened up his bedroom door and walked towards the entrance.

Harry had his sneakers on, her shoes lined up and her coat ready for her in his hands. She slipped on her shoes and against her better judgment she allowed him to slip her jacket on for her, arm by arm. She hated the electricity that crackled through their every touch. She did not want to leave, she hated herself for leaving, even.

As if he sensed her self-deprecation, he took hold of her hand after it slipped through the sleeve. “Gin, it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, it was just his typical optimism in order to protect everyone he loved, Except it made Harry look out for everyone else’s comfort at his own expense.

He grabbed his keys and led them out of his flat. They got into his car quietly. Without taking the backroads, the ride was relatively short, only taking 3 songs on the classic rock station of his ancient car radio to make it back to her home, the Burrow.

He parked right outside, which was a mistake, as her mother was out in the front with their family dog, Pig. She was wise enough to just offer a wave and a smile and resume walking with him.

Harry turned to her and asked in a low rasp, “Can I see you again? Before you fly back? Will you still be at your family’s for New Year's?”

“Yeah, I will,” she told him. “I’ll...I’ll see you there.”

Harry nodded. He clicked the unlock button for the doors. “Just...just think about what I said, alright?”

Ginny swallowed, nodding back. “I will.”

He kissed her cheek, his lips burning against her cold skin, and as he pulled away he leaned over to open her door for her. She attempted a smile in thanks, hopped out of his truck, and closed the door gently behind her.

She didn’t look back as she walked through her lawn, as she heard him call out to her mother, “See you soon, Mrs. Weasley!,” as Pig barked merrily at him and Harry laughed out, “I’ll see you soon, too, Pig!” before driving away.

She was grateful that her mother didn’t pursue her as her legs worked their hardest to get her to the door, through the entrance, and up the flight of stairs to her room, into her own bed, waiting for a sense of safety or relief that never came.

#hp #fanfic #hp fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #au #alternate universe #modern au #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry/ginny #harry potter/ginny weasley #fanfiction #fan fiction

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broqkenhearted · 3 years ago

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𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊: Chapter 3

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙: Chapter 4

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘: Chapter 2

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: Look at Bottom of Chapter (you can comment or message if you want to be in my tag list)

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: An innocent school girl is new to SOPA. She becomes friends with the President of the school and his group. Y/N sees this one group of boys and one of them intrigues her. These boys are the “badasses” of the school and act all cold. But there is more to this boy than what is seen on the outside. This boy is no other than a vampire who is in the gang named Ateez, and finds his mate, who is none other than the innocent school girl. What love will blossom between these two?

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: bits of fluff, smut, angst, highschool au, vampire au

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: vampire!san x reader

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4,515

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: blood, swearing, mature content (warnings beforehand)

Yunho POV

I could feel Y/N relax behind me as she snuggled herself into my back. I couldn't help but smile. She really was something else.

"Cute," I mumbled.

I hope she'll except us for who we are...

Y/N POV

The motorcycle ride ended a lot faster than I had expected. It was quite relaxing actually. I could ride all day if I could.

I hopped off the bike and took the helmet off. When I took it off, I swung my hair around in an effort to get it less tangled. I could see San staring at me as I did so. I looked over to him and it looked like his eyes just flashed purple??? I'm prolly losing my mind, so I just brushed it off. The boys invited inside their house, and may I tell you, they own a mansion. A big ass mansion to be in fact.

I was gawking at it, until I heard some of the boys chuckle.

"Holy shit, how rich are y'all?" I asked.

"A lot richer than you think," Seonghwa said cockily.

"Oh well no shit Sherlock," I responded rolling my eyes.

When we all entered the front door, the rain began to pour buckets over the city.

The house gave me an awfully sketchy vibe, it was really dark and gloomy. "They have all this money, and they choose to live in this dark ass mansion," I thought.

"I guess I should thank y'all for making sure I don't drown in the rain," I said giggling.

"It's not a problem! In all honesty, we're surprised you walked away from Twice like that," Hongjoong responded.

"Why? They're the average obsessed bitches. Always trying to grab the popular boys' attention," I said rolling my eyes.

"Well yeah, but they won't hesitate to make your life total hell," Wooyoung sighed.

"If they seriously think I'm going to let them walk over me, they're wrong. If someone ends up dead, don't be surprised," I growled.

The guys looked at me surprised.

I sighed. "Yeah I know, I don't seem to be the person who would act like that, right? Well I'm super stiff around new people. That's why I act shy. But when people get on my nerves, shit goes down. So I'm telling y'all this now.....don't fuck with me."

"And what if we do?" Seonghwa said, smirking.

"Is that a challenge, Seonghwa?"

"Maybe...."

Immediately, I shot a serious stare at him. At first, I decided to play a stare off with him at first. I slowly walked towards him, then pounced. I tackled him to the ground and and put him in a headlock. I was in a position where I could pin his arms and legs down so he couldn't fight back.

"I told you, don't fuck with me."

At that moment, Seonghwa's eyes turned red like how San's changed earlier. I pushed him off of me and got up. I looked from Seonghwa to San in confusion.

My confused face made everyone else just as confused.

"What's wrong?" Mingi asked.

"Your eyes," I responded blandly.

At that moment all the guys except San showed faces of panic.

"Why did they turn red?"

"I think you're seeing things, Y/N."

"How could I be seeing things when it happened to San and Seonghwa?"

Yunho glared at San. San shrugged.

"Explain. I'm not stupid. You know your eyes did that. And, why the hell are you wearing clothes like that?"

"Before we say anything, please don't be scared and run off," Wooyoung sighed.

"Talk," was all I said.

The guys looked at each other as if they were trying to decide who would speak.

"Fine, I'll say it because y'all are being to big of pussies to talk," San growled. "We're vampires."

I began to laugh my ass off.

"V-Vampires?" I said between laughs. "Great joke guys."

I was suddenly pinned against a wall.

"This isn't a damn joke," San said.

His eyes were turning a dark crimson this time. I could see his fangs start to come out.

I was trying to process what was happening when San let me go.

"And before you ask, no, we aren't going to drink your blood and kill you," Jongho said.

"I should go home," I mumbled.

"You aren't going anywhere," San retorted.

"And why the hell do YOU care?" I spat.

"Are you ok?" Yunho asked.

"No, I'm not ok!" I yelled. "I fucking knew you guys were familiar. I should've known better than this."

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung replied sadly.

"What do I mean? WHAT DO I MEAN!? YOU ASSHOLES KILLED HER!" I was crying at this point.

I looked back at the guys to see their eyes change to blue. I walked over to San and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"You fucking murdered my best friend," I said as I threw San to the ground.

The guys were shocked. No one has ever treated San like that. San's eyes turned black. I was a bit startled to see his eyes change to that color, but I shook the feeling off.

"You asked for it bitch!" San screamed.

The guys rushed to hold him back but I stopped them.

"Don't. I'm not scared of him or what he can do. If he's going to kill me, let him. At least she won't be alone up there anymore."

Third Person POV

Y/N collapsed on the ground in tears. The boys were heartbroken. San even felt his heart hurt a little bit. The guys looked at the poor girl unsure of what to do.

"Where's the bathroom?" Y/N asked quietly.

"Down the hallway, first door to the right," Hongjoong responded.

WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AFTER THIS POINT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Y/N got up and followed his directions to be lead to a large bathroom. Y/N locked the door and slid down against it sobbing. Little did Y/N know, the guys could hear and see her thoughts. Soon they could smell her blood.

"Guys, is that her blood!?" Yeosang asked frantically.

Yeosang decided that he wouldn't wait for their answer and just booked it to the bathroom.

"Y/N, please open the door!"

There was no response. Not even the sound of her crying could be heard. Yeosang teleported into the bathroom to see a horrific sight. Yeosang called for the guys to come, and they all teleported in to see an unconscious Y/N in Yeosangs's arms with blood pooling out of her wrists and neck. Seonghwa, being the healer of the group dashed towards a crying Yeosang. He lifted Y/N into his arms and booked it into his room to help her. The guys turned back towards Yeosang. They have rarely seen him cry before, and the fact that he was crying over a girl he met in one day was shocking.

"I-I can't believe I'm s-saying t-this, but W-Wooyoung's right. She's d-different," Yeosang barely spoke. "She c-can't die!"

The rest of Ateez felt the same way. She was different, special even. All they knew was that they were going to protect her.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was frantically working to stop the bleeding and stitch her up. He managed to successfully do so, and he soon found himself looking at the poor girl. He walked out of his room to meet with the very worried guys.

"I think she'll be ok," Seonghwa said.

"I can't believe she actually tried to kill herself," Wooyoung said. "How are we even going to talk to her? She said we killed her best friend, she hates us!"

The guys groaned and sighed in agreement with Wooyoung.

2 Hours Later

"Urrggh," Y/N said as she woke up.

She looked around to realize that her wrists and neck are bandaged up and that she's in an unfamiliar room. Y/N arose from the bed she was laying in and proceeded to walk out. The room was attached to the hallway, so Y/N easily found her way to the living room. She could hear the sound of male voices, so Y/N assumed it was the guys. Y/N had to use the assistance of the walls to walk, so when Y/N got to the end of the hallway, she stood there leaning against the cool wall. The boys could hear movement behind them, and when they turned around they saw you there leaning against the door frame with glossy eyes. Y/N resumed her efforts of walking but San was the first person to teleport to her. He could see the pure emptiness and sadness in her eyes and it broke him apart. Before she could reject, San picked Y/N up and carried her over to the couch. She was placed between San and Seonghwa.

"How are you feeling?" Seonghwa asked.

"I've been a lot better," Y/N said with a small smile.

The guys realized that no matter what the situation is, Y/N manages to make the situation a lot lighter and brighter.

"Y/N, we are so sorry," Hongjoong started.

Y/N sighed, "I appreciate your apology, but you should know that I probably won't forgive you for it. She was the only person who made my life have light, so not having her here is really difficult."

"You look really tired, Y/N," Yeosang said.

"I just have to move around to get my blood flow back up that's all," She said.

Y/N looked back at Yeosang to his the fear in his eyes.

"You were the person who walked in, weren't you?" Y/N asked Yeosang.

Yeosang couldn't answer her. He could only let out a quiet tear.

"Come here," she said.

Yeosang hesitantly went in her direction, and stood before her. Y/N signaled for San to get up, and San followed. She patted the now open seat next to her, and Yeosang took the spot. What Y/N did next shocked everyone in the room. She hugged Yeosang and snuggled into him.

"I'm so sorry you had to walk in to find me like that," was all she said.

Yeosang couldn't help but hug her back and cuddle with her. San was looking at the two people feeling anger and jealousy boil through his veins.

"Just because I'm not a vampire doesn't mean I can't sense your guys's jealousy. So if you want a hug you gotta fight for a spot next to me," Y/N smiled.

Y/N let go of Yeosang and sat up. Seonghwa engulfed her into a large hug. She returned the hug and rubbed his back. Soon, the rest of the boys hugged her and inhaled her addictive scent. San was the only member left. This time, Seonghwa got up and let San fill his spot. He looked at her with grey eyes and then gently hugged the girl. To San, Y/N felt so small and fragile. She fit into his arms perfectly. He never wanted to let her go. She snuggled into him closer and San looked up to the guys. He gave them a look that showed how much he cared for her. There was a peaceful silence until Yunho broke it.

"Has anyone ever told you how good you smell?"

"No, what do I smell like?"

"You smell like vanilla and roses!" Yunho exclaimed happily.

"I don't use anything that has that smell though?" Y/N announced.

"Wait that means that's your natural scent! I have never met a human that smells as good as you do," Wooyoung stated.

Y/N giggled at the compliment and her laugh made the guys' hearts melt.

"I take it you wore those outfits to hide from the sun?" Y/N asked referring to the dark outfits the guys were wearing.

"Sorta. They also hide our identities from other people. There are some people who know us for what we are we hide ourselves using these clothes," San responded.

Y/N looked at her phone to check the time, and she saw that it was about 7:30 at night. The rain has stopped awhile ago, so Y/N could go home now.

"I guess I should head out so I'm not a bigger burden than I already am," Y/N said looking at the guys.

"In the condition you're in, you're not going anywhere. If you run into other vampires, they will not hesitate to drain you," Jongho said.

Y/N nodded her head in understanding what Jongho said.

"You can sleep in my room tonight, I'll sleep on the couch," San told Y/N.

"I'm not about to let you sleep on the couch in your own home," Y/N fought back.

"Y/N you need to sleep on a bed. Especially with your injuries," Seonghwa said.

"But I feel bad!"

"It's either you sleep in his bed, or he sleeps in it with you," Mingi said.

Y/N displayed a light blush on her face and looked down.

"Where is the bedroom?" Y/N asked nervously.

"It's down the hallway, last door on the left," San chuckled.

"Oh! Before you go, here are some clothes!" Wooyoung said handing her a hoodie and boxers. "If you want to take a shower, you may."

"Thanks Wooyoung!" Y/N said giving him a hug. "I'm going to take a shower then go to bed. Night guys!"

"Night Y/N!" all the guys said together.

Y/N headed towards the bathroom she was in earlier to see a light red stain on the tile floor.

"Yikes! How could I be stupid enough to think that BLOOD wouldn't stain the tile?" Y/N said to herself aloud.

Y/N undressed herself and took the bandages Seonghwa wrapped around her off. She examined the wounds on her body then felt warm liquid run down her neck. In a split second, Y/N could hear a fist banging on the door and San's voice.

"Y/N?!? ARE YOU OK?!? WHY CAN I SMELL YOUR BLOOD-"

"Hey! It's ok! I just took my bandages off, and my stitches started to bleed a little bit. I'm fine!"

"Can I see them?" San asked.

"Hold on! I don't have any clothes on at the moment!"

When San heard those words leave Y/N's mouth, his heart rate involuntarily increased. He shook off the images running through his mind when Y/N opened the bathroom door. San walked in and shut the door behind him so the smell of her blood doesn't radiate through the house. San hurried into the bathroom so he couldn't see what Y/N was wearing. When he turned around he saw Y/N only wearing her undergarments. Without realizing, San was staring at the girl in front of him admiring her figure.

"I'm sorry about what I'm wearing. It was the only thing I could wear for you to be able to see them clearly," Y/N said with a blush.

"It's ok! I was just surprised you let me see you like this," San said.

"For some reason, my heart trusts you. Even though my head doesn't because of what happened. But I trust my heart more than my mind. The only reason why I did what I did was because my head got the best of me," Y/N confessed.

A genuine smile crept up to San's face, and his eyes turned yellow.

"Do they hurt?" San asked referring to the stitches.

"It just feels like a bruised sort of pain, but it's nothing too bad," Y/N said looking at her sliced wrists.

Blood began to run down her right wrist after she touched it.

"Ouch! That hurt a bit!" Y/N said looking at her bleeding wrist laughing.

Y/N could hear small grunts and growls coming from San and that's when she remembered he's a vampire. "Well shit. How could I possibly forget that he drinks blood?" Y/N thought to herself, giving a herself a mental facepalm as well. She headed towards the sink to wash it off, but San stopped her.

"Please don't wash it off yet," he grunted.

"Why? You can barely contain yourself at the moment."

"It smells really good and I want it to last longer," San said as he stared at the burgundy liquid.

"You want some of it, don't you?" Y/N sighed.

"Of course I do, but I couldn't do that to you."

"I appreciate that, but what would happen if I let you?"

San glanced up at Y/N's face, slightly taken aback with what she just said.

"Are you trying to hint something, Y/N?"

"I mean, it's not like you're going to bite me. It came out naturally! Besides, you look the same way as you did when you did you know what. That can only lead me to believe you haven't had any in quite awhile."

"How are you so damn smart?"

"You might be good at lying San, but you can't hide everything," Y/N said with a giggle.

"I swear to god, you're too cute. But would you actually let me have some?" San looked at Y/N seriously.

"I told you, I trust my heart more than my head."

Y/N raised her wrist once she saw the blood was about to drop onto the tile again.

"There is no way in hell I'm about to stain the tile AGAIN. So, the only way to clean it is to wash it off or you have it," Y/N said looking at her bloody wrist then to the blood thirsty vampire in front of her. "No biting, ok?"

San looked at Y/N with excitement.

"I bet you taste better than you smell!"

Y/N laughed at his statement and headed over to the sink where she could sit and make sure none of her blood can stain the dAMN TILE-

Once she was situated, Y/N signaled San to get closer to her and he followed her commands. He was now standing between her thighs looking at her eyes with his golden ones.

"Ok, your eyes keep changing color, and I have no idea what it means. Could you explain the colors to me before you start?" Y/N questioned.

"Well, my eyes should be gold at the moment which means I'm seriously holding back from getting your blood. Typically when I get a serious blood lust they turn gold. Red is anger, blue is sadness, grey is regret, purple is sexual lust, green is ecstasy, and orange is possessiveness or the feeling of wanting to protect something," San explained.

"I don't think I'll remember all of that, but I'll try my best!"

The two people laughed until Y/N realized her hand was starting to pool with blood.

"Bruh, why the hell am I bleeding so much? You stitches are seriously doing a shitty job."

Y/N raised the hand filled with blood and moved it in front of San. San looked at Y/N one last time searching for a final look of assurance, and Y/N responded with a nod.

San began by drinking what was in Y/N's hand. Her hand became a cup to encapsulate it all. The first taste for San sent him into space. The fact that he hasn't fed in awhile adds to the pleasure, but her taste was the best he's ever had. As he finished what was in her hand, he looked up at her. Y/N could see his fangs and her blood all over his chin. His eyes were a vibrant gold.

"Looks like I was right. You're the best I've ever had."

"Yeah ok," Y/N said.

"Y/N if you were to leave in this state you would be dead by now. Or you would be kidnapped and used as a living blood bag. You're blood is unique. It is so much sweeter than what most humans have."

"Well lucky for you, San, my hand, neck, and wrist is covered in it. Now you can't complain from withdraws."

"I'm not complaining about it either!" San exclaimed.

"Remember San, I need to take a shower. We have classes tomorrow."

San growled.

"Can't we just skip tomorrow?" San whined.

"And do what?"

"Let you heal, Ateez aren't the only vampires at school, and I sure as hell ain't letting anyone else have you if you bleed."

San's eyes flashed orange in a sign of possessiveness.

"Fine, I'll skip. You are acting like a over protective human boyfriend," Y/N chuckled.

"Well the fact that I am drinking your blood connects me to you. I can sense your change in emotions now. The guys can because of what we are, but me doing that makes me the closest out of all of them."

San returned to cleaning you up, and now he moved onto her neck.

She tilted her head to give him more access. He leaned towards her and could see her vein protrude slightly.

"Tell me if this hurts ok? I'm going to go over the stitches."

Y/N nodded her head and he began to lick the blood running down her throat. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"San," she whispered.

San stopped what he was doing and looked at the girl in front of him. His eyes changed to a beautiful shade of purple.

"What are you doing to me, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I am. I'm really cold to people. But when you came along both me and the guys couldn't help but feel attracted to you. And now here I am. Drinking the best blood I've ever had, from the girl I'm interested in."

Y/N jumped off of the counter and looked in the mirror to see no blood left.

"Damn could you enjoy it any more?" Y/N said with sarcasm.

"I definitely could, babe."

Y/N blushed at the nickname. She's never been called that before. She could easily get used to it though.

"I need to take a shower now, San."

"Can I take it with you?"

"W-What?"

"You heard me. I want to take a shower with you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. This whole blood drinking thing just makes me want to be around you 24/7."

"Ok."

"Wait really?"

"Yeah sure. But...if this leads to you wanting to get closer to me just to use me for sex I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you."

"Oh believe me, if I wanted to play you you'd be out of my house right now."

The two chuckled and Y/N walked to turn the shower on. Once it was warm enough for her liking, she looked back at San.

"Is this too hot, San?"

San walked over to feel the water.

"Nope. It's almost as perfect as you."

"I did not expect you to be such a flirt."

"People aren't always who they seem they are Y/N."

"Yeah, I'm quite aware of that."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I mean, it's not like I'm going to be able to hide it from you forever, so I might as well get it over with."

San looked at her with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"It's my birth parents."

San looked at Y/N with interest.

"How about I tell you once we're in the shower, ok?"

San agreed and Y/N took her undergarments off. San couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely stunning to him.

"Hey! I can't be the only person naked! That's not fair!"

In the blink of an eye, San was undressed and standing in front of Y/N. He took her hand and pulled her into the shower with him. San watched as the water droplets ran down her delicate body. The way her long hair covered her exposed breasts.

"Ok, we're in the shower. Continue please," San said impatiently.

"Oh right. THEM." Y/N said with disgust in her voice. "I was not planed to be here. I'm only alive because my birth parents were retarded enough to not use protection. So when I was born, they decided they weren't ready to raise a child so they gave me to my aunt. I was a much different person back then than I am now. I used to be so caring of others and so welcoming. Now I've become more broken off and closed off. One day, they decided to show up to my house in America. They had the audacity to ask me to go back to them. They even thought that I would be willing to go with them. Ever since then, I have hated people. The fact that my best friend was murdered made it worse," San looked at Y/N with his grey eyes, "I know, vampires depend on blood to stay alive, but I was just so upset that it had to be her. I was pissed at myself for not stopping you guys. But as I thought about it, I realized neither of us would of made it out alive if I was to try and stop you. I lost trust in all people after that. I haven't made any friends for I live with the fear that they will leave me just as she did. I was still new here when she died so I had to take a lot of time to get used to my surroundings here. So here I am, a girl who lives alone and in a country that she still isn't that familiar to her yet."

Y/N was crying at this point from remembering the trauma she suffered. Without a second thought, San pinned Y/N against the shower wall and lifting her chin up with his index finger. Without a second thought he leaned in and kissed her. It was a kiss that expressed how bad he felt for doing what he did to her best friend. Y/N kissed back, enjoying the sensation of his lips against hers.

They both parted from the kiss to regain their breath when San spoke...

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. If I knew my actions would lead to me hurting you like this, I would have never done that. I was just so desperate that if I didn't feed, I would go on a murder spree. But now I promise to never hurt you like that. I promise to protect you from everything you fear the most. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I love you so much. I never want to let you go.

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @soyeonrai

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sweaterkittensahoy · 4 years ago

Note

I don't really fancy established relationships but i love drawn out onesided pining, so maybe something about seeing Lestrade at work at the station or at a crime scene, being the right mix of disheveled & professional

(You and I are very different people; but I will do my very best because a good pining is a fun time)

Mycroft stands at the edge of the scene and twitches when the first few raindrops hit his collar. He opens his umbrella without thinking and lifts it to protect him as his gaze falls back to the scene.

Or, Lestrade on the scene, to be more correct.

He's standing several dozen meters away, lit up by the high-powered mobile lights from forensics. His shirt is in a state, wrinkled and creased. This is his third scene in nineteen hours, Mycroft knows, because this is the third scene he has been to as well. Someone is targeting informants to some of Mycroft's lower colleagues, and they're moving swiftly. Mycroft's people, led by Anthea, are working the angles they have. Sherlock is buried in information to find the angles they do not see. Lestrade is doing what he does the very best: being the boots on the ground.

Mycroft watches Lestrade yawn hugely, then turn and say something to a tech that makes the tired man flash him a brief, amused smile. Lestrade scrubs a hand over his hair, then looks up, squinting as the rain hits his face. It's nothing more than a light misting, truly, but Mycroft steps forward anyway, pleased at the people who nod at him in recognition. Lestrade had been insistent that his people know Mycroft on sight so he could move as easily as needed at these particular scenes, and Mycroft appreciates as always how well Lestrade understands what people need.

"Detective Inspector," Mycroft says when he's a few meters away. Out of Lestrade's personal space but close enough to be easily heard.

Lestrade holds up a finger. "Two ticks," he says, flashing Mycroft a quick look to see his agreeing nod.

Mycroft watches Lestrade walk over to Donovan and have a brief conversation. The tension in her shoulders loosens minutely, and she flicks Lestrade on the chest in a friendly fashion that makes him grin.

Oh, that grin, Mycroft thinks. Such a dangerous weapon on the wrong man. Possibly even more dangerous on the right one.

Lestrade squats down to look at what Anderson is photographing, then he's back on his feet, working his way across the scene to the constables keeping watch at the tape. He says a few words, hands three cigarettes to one of them, laughs quietly at some reply, then leaves them to their work.

Mycroft is somehow certain the constable only requested a single cigarette, but Lestrade would never hand over one when he has several. It is yet another sign of the goodness of his heart. The goodness of the man.

"Mycroft," Lestrade says when he finishes his circuit and comes to a stop in front of Mycroft, hands jammed in the pockets of his trousers, his coat pushed back off his hips due to the stance. It makes him one very lovely masculine line from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes. The mist is just starting to flatten his hair, but the water makes it glimmer, and Mycroft cannot believe how devastating the mere existence of this man is to his being.

"I was going to offer you a bit of protection," Mycroft says, tipping his umbrella slightly forward. "But I am not sure you'll feel its use now that you've gotten damp."

Lestrade takes his hands out of his pockets and shakes his coat by its lapels. Water droplets fly off to the sides. "Waterproof," he says, "so I'm pretty dry overall. But I wouldn't say no to a little head protection while we compare notes."

"Certainly," Mycroft says. He steps forward at the same time as Greg, and they meet perfectly centered under Mycroft's umbrella. For a moment, all Mycroft can catalogue is the warmth that radiates from Greg's torso, the tiny cut on his chin where he nicked himself shaving, the scent of bitter, burned coffee that clings to his collar.

"Same as the others," Lestrade says, reaching up and pushing his hair backwards through his fingers. It makes it stick up more.

Mycroft gets a brief hint of mint and lavender shampoo mixed with the smell of new rain, and oh, that's new. The addition of the water to that smell that Mycroft has known for what feels like a very long time. This is what Lestrade would smell like in the shower, Mycroft thinks, and then blinks the thought away. "Stabbed through the back of the neck with signs of torture pre-death?" Mycroft asks to keep his mind focused on the present.

Lestrade sighs deeply, and there's sadness in his eyes. He feels every death he investigates, Mycroft knows, but he also carries that weight with a grace that Mycroft has very rarely seen. It is cousin to the grace Lestrade has that has him taking a moment to cheer his team. To give three cigarettes to a random constable. A relation to the grace Lestrade showed Sherlock and then Mycroft the day they all met.

Mycroft has been unquestionably and foolishly in love for a very long time. There is no other way to be in the face of a grace so casual given by a man so effortlessly beautiful.

"Yeah," Lestrade says. "How's it going on your side of things?"

"No updates, I'm afraid. And nothing from Sherlock."

Lestrade quirks a smile, then a small, dry laugh. "So, he has nothing, or he's hared off and doing something stupid."

"I would hope Dr. Watson would inform us if that were happening, but he is...occasionally unreliable."

Lestrade smiles at Mycroft, wide and amused, the flash of happiness in his eyes making Mycroft feel like he can't breathe at all. "John's entirely reliable. He will always be by Sherlock's side when he's being a fucking berk."

Mycroft huffs a laugh. There's warm annoyance and fondness in Lestarde's tone. Signs of friendship and care. Of sincere concern and affection. "I cannot argue against your accurate description."

The rain suddenly comes down harder, switching from mist to a proper downpour. There's shouts of displeasure from the scene techs, all rushing to try and preserve what they can. Mycroft is not surprised that Lestrade does not dart away to help. He is a man with a keen sense of when he's useful versus when he's not, and he will only be in the way as the techs rush with precise teamwork to cover the scene in sheeting.

"Shit," Lestrade mutters, pulling his coat around him and tying it closed. "I know we haven't found fuck-all at the other scenes, but the possibility we just lost something is going to hit the team right in morale."

"You will overcome it," Mycroft says. "Your people knows you will not blame them."

Lestrade looks at Mycroft, gaze flittering over his face. Mycroft stays still, allowing his face to stay open and readable. There's a shift to Lestarde's gaze when their eyes meet. From curious to pleased, and then from pleased to...Mycroft isn't quite sure.

Or, he is sure but he fears that to put a name to what he's seeing will mean it will go away.

Lestrade takes a half-step forward, just enough that they're truly close together under the protection of Mycroft's umbrella. "What do you see when you stand here and watch me?" he asks.

Mycroft takes a moment to answer. His heart is thundering in his chest louder than the rain hitting the umbrella just above their heads. "Everything," he finally says because it's the truest answer.

Lestrade nods slowly. He glances over his shoulder and takes in the scene. "Scene's basically useless now," he says. "But I need to check a few more things. When I'm done," Lestrade turns to look at Mycroft again, "me and you, let's get a pint. Warm ourselves up a bit and get a breather. Been a rough couple of days."

Lestrade's face tells Mycroft everything. It's not just a pint. Not just a chance to wind down with someone who understands the strain of being in charge. It's exactly what Mycroft saw and was afraid to name. Hope. Interest. Curiosity. Warmth.

"I'll wait in my car," Mycroft says. He tips the umbrella towards Greg. "Please make use of this."

Greg takes the umbrella. He gives Mycroft one more warm look, the hint of a smile, and then a sharp nod. "Ta," he says and walks away.

The way his shoulders and back straighten as he makes his way back to Donovan makes Mycroft feel warm even as the rain drenches him. He'd relaxed with Mycroft, comfortable to show a bit more of himself.

Mycroft walks briskly to his car, ignoring Anthea's amused look when she sees how wet he is. She shifts her umbrella so it covers them both.

"Any change, Sir?" Anthea asks.

Mycroft snorts at the utter flatness of her tone. Anthea cuts him an amused look. "Not in regards to leads," he says and lets her read on his face that, yes, there has been one change.

"Shall I fetch your spare suit from the boot?"

Mycroft glances over his shoulder. Greg has left the umbrella with Donovan and is making his way around without it. Were he a Renaissance painting, Mycroft thinks, his grace would glow around him like a lantern. "I am sure the heat in the car will be adequate," he says. He will never have Greg's grace, but he is very curious to try it on in some small way. They'll both be disheveled and damp when they sit down for their pint. It warms Mycroft to think of it.

"Very good," Anthea says with a blank look that laughs at his romantic fancy as she opens the door. "I assume we are waiting for the Detective Inspector to join us."

"Yes," Mycroft says. "Thank you."

#mystrade #greg lestrade #mycroft holmes #ask #answer #get together #sort of #i hope this is enough pining!#anthea

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feral-dumbass · 4 years ago

Text

Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Steve Rogers / Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is on the phone with Steve when he decides he has to have you now.

Includes: Exhibitionism (???), Polyamorous relationship, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Overstimulation, Dom/ Sub undertones, Talk of oral, The stealth suit

Words: 2,008

A/N: Hi! The only thing I love more than super soldiers is women in rock, so let’s pretend to be surprised that this my second fic with title credit to The Runaways. As always tagging the homies @babybluestan @gagmebucky @heresyoursnackdumbass

LMK if you guys still want a tag list!

Masterlist

“Mhmm… Pfft, everyone knows to ambush at night. Where did these rookies come from?” Bucky speaks to Steve on the phone as he looks over reports. Steve was currently ranting about how quickly the mission with new recruits went south. Bucky wanted to be a good boyfriend and help Steve out as the reports started piling up. Man, is Bucky happy he’s helping Steve. Steve is making the recruits sound like dumbasses. It’s a shame Bucky will have to put them through the wringer come Monday.

Bucky has had to reread Clint’s shitty sentence twice while Steve rants. He can feel his brain cells deteriorating as he tries to read the report. He’s passed multiple stick figure drawings and that was just the first page.

Commotion from you allows Bucky to move his eyes away from the eyesore. You take a break from typing away on your computer to scratch your bare thigh. Even after you hand leaves the spot where the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt is touching your thigh, his eyes are boring holes into it. You’re sitting sideways in Steve’s reading chair, bare legs thrown over the armrest. Your soft, smooth legs shine under the light and Bucky’s hand twitches. He can practically feel your thighs underneath his hands as he spreads your legs. Not like he wasn’t just between them like an hour ago.

Memories of you coming on his cock fill his brain as blood rushes south. He moves up to your face. You’re biting your lip in concentration as you type out a scientific article. They’re still slightly swollen from Bucky. It’s not Bucky’s fault you’re a really good kisser and he just wants to kiss you 24/7.

With the sight of the wide collar of his shirt displaying previous hickeys and little bit of your cleavage, Bucky’s ripping out a page of Clint’s report. It was shitty. Steve was gonna make him redo it anyways. He balls up the piece of paper and throws it at you as Steve continues his star spangled rant in his ear.

Everyone knows Bucky’s aim is good. He hits you right on your forehead with it. You turn to glare at him. As you blink slowly at him, he points down to his crotch. You scoff and laugh at him. Bucky moves and cups the phone away from his mouth.

“Come hop on this dick.” Maybe Bucky said something wrong because you go back to your computer. “Please.” He tries giving his best puppy dog look, wide eyes and mouth turned into a pout. If it works on Steve, it should work on you.

“Oh my god,” Bucky‘s heart flutters as you laugh when you speak. ”I’m saving my work. Give me a minute.”

“What was that, Buck?” Steve has stopped his rant to ask Bucky a question.

“Oh, she was just checking on the spelling of adamantium.” Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off you as you shut your laptop and stand up, putting the computer in your seat. You stretch out your arms and your underwear is on full display for him.

“Oh,” is all Steve says before going back to his rant. You walk over to Bucky, hips swaying side to side. Bucky is hastily putting Steve on speaker and setting his phone on the mahogany desk. He takes your hand and pulls you on his lap. You throw your arms over Bucky’s shoulders and give him a sweet kiss as he rubs your back. His hand is slowly pushing up the shirt up your back so he can make more skin contact.

“He’s really going on a rant, isn’t he?” You speak lowly and glance back at Bucky’s phone. Bucky takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to face him.

“Ignore him.” Bucky kisses you senselessly. It doesn’t take him long to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping out to invade your mouth. You moan as his other hand moves to play with the hem of your panties.

“You guys know I can hear you, right? You’re making out as I tell Bucky about the worst few days of my life. Unbelievable.” Bucky breaks away from you to reply and you trail after his lips. He smirks as he talks.

“ ‘M sorry, Stevie. You should see our sweet girl right now. Been walking around in my t-shirt with no pants for the past hour. All her hickeys are on display. She looks extra kissable too. Bet she’s even already wet, again, too. Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” Your eyes are stuck on Bucky’s lips, watching the way they move as he speaks. You nod. “Gotta speak up, babe. Stevie’s gotta hear too.”

“Y-yes. I’m wet. I think Bucky should feel for himself, though.” You grab his metal hand and slide it into the front of your underwear. Bucky reaches further down to where you ache for him.

At the feel of your sopping folds as he slides his fingers through the mess between your thighs, Bucky groans out. “She definitely wasn’t lying.” Bucky kneads your sex harder and your breath hitches.

Steve inhales and exhales loudly through the phone. “I hate you. I hate you both. You’re killing me.”

“What do you say doll? Want to kill him even more and let him hear me wreck that sweet pussy even more?” Butterflies rumble in your stomach. Even if Bucky wasn’t going to fuck yoou, you were going to ride his thigh. You find yourself nodding your head adamantly through the pleasure as Steve speaks.

“I can’t believe I’m asking, but even more? What do you mean?” Steve’s brain is definitely fried from dealing with everyone’s bullshit.

“It was rare for me to be out of this tight, little cunt. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” As Bucky talks, he’s sliding his two of his fingers inside of you and finding those sensitive spots inside of you.

“B-Bucky, please.” You whimper as he pumps his fingers expertly. Bucky isn’t lying. He’s fucked you until you’re overworked and sensitive. It doesn’t take much to start to feel the rise of your orgasm.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” His metal thumb circles your clit. “You gonna be a good slut and cum for me and Steve? You know what? Why don’t you ask Steve if you can cum?”

“Steve, please. P-please, can I come?” No hesitation as you start to beg.

“Let her cum, Buck.” Bucky doubles his effort, pumping his fingers at faster speed. You hold onto his bicep for dear life, nails digging crescent shapes as your muscles tense. You reach your peak.

“FUCK!” You curse in between breathy moans. Bucky lets you ride out your orgasm before he slips his fingers out of you and into his mouth. He takes his fingers out with a pop, loud enough for Steve to hear.

“How does she taste?”

“Like fucking candy.” Steve is groaning and a door slamming in the background breaks the trance between you and Bucky.

“I hope you guys are happy. I’m gonna jerk it out in a supply closet like some kind of creep because you two couldn’t wait twenty fucking minutes to stop fucking like bunnies.”

“Well, you head the Captain. Let’s give him something good to listen to. C’mon and fuck me.” You look at Bucky expectantingly.

“Fuck.” Bucky’s groaning as he sets you on your feet. Before you can blink, he’s yanking his shirt off you and standing up to his full height. You only have a few seconds to look up at him before he’s turning you around and picking you up by the waist to roughly place on Steve’s desk. Your feet barely graze the ground with your breasts against the cool wood. Bucky doesn’t make you wait for long. Before you can process it, Bucky is moving your underwear to the side and sliding his cock into you. You’ve had his cock enough this weekend. He doesn’t let you adjust just starts off at a brutal pace that’s already making you see stars. The smacking of your skin echoes through the room. You have no doubt it carries through the phone.

“S-steve.”

He moans at how wrecked you sound already. “Yeah, baby? Bucky making you feel good?”

“So good.” You whimper. Your back arches as you scramble to get a hold of the smooth surface of the desk. Bucky notices and takes your hand down to reach his thigh. Your fingers dig into his skin. You can feel his muscles contract underneath your fingertips as he thrusts into you. “So fucking good, Bucky.” Even with your ears ringing, you’re able to hear the tell tale signs of skin slapping skin on Steve’s line. Bucky is too focused on your praise to make fun of him for it, thrusting into you with vigor. He tugs on your hips so you’re hanging more off the table. You whimper out as Bucky reaches around you for your clit, rubbing in fast circles.

“Jesus Christ, you sound so pretty. I wish I was there.”

“What would you do, Stevie?” Bucky pants as he speaks. “It sure would be great if you were here to take her mouth. The wet heat of her mouth is almost as good as her pussy. She can barely deepthroat your massive cock. It’d be a great show.” Bucky’s palm smacks down on your ass cheek. It’s almost as if he knows your mouth is watering at the thought.

“Bucky!” Your hips buck at the stinging feeling of metal.

“You’re the biggest fucking tease, Bucky. I should put your mouth to good use.” Bucky’s thrusts falter for a few seconds before his pace picks back up. Well, Bucky definitely wants his mouth used like a whore and you can’t really blame him. There’s something special in letting Captain America facefuck you, firm grip on the back of your head as he makes you take as much of his length as you can.

The thought has your orgasm approaching quicker than you thought as drool starts to pool on the desk. The sight of your muscles tensing and the feel of your nails digging harder into his thigh has Bucky doubling his efforts, angling to hit your sensitive depths with every thrust and rubbing your clit even faster.

“Cum for us. Remind Steve how pretty you sound when you cum.”

“Cum for us, angel. Be a good girl.”

With the sound of both of your boyfriends begging in low, deep voices for release, your orgasm overcomes you rather quickly. Your breathy moans fill the room as you pant. Your legs are so shaking so hard, Bucky has to make sure you don’t fall off the desk as he fucks you through your orgasm. You can barely make out Steve groaning into the phone as you moan out his name.

When you manage to catch your breath over the oversensitivity Bucky is putting you through, a mischievous grin spreads across your face as he thrusts get sloppy. “You close, Bucky? I think you should ask Stevie if you can cum.”

“You heard the woman.”

“Steve, I swear to fucking God if you don’t let me cum-”

“Nicer.”

“Please, can I cum?”

“I think you know what I’m looking for, Bucky.”

“Please, can I cum, sir?”

“See that wasn’t so hard. Go ahead.” With his permission, you can feel Bucky spill his warmth as you whimper. His groaning sends shivers down your spine as he roughly yanks your hips to meet cock in the last few thrusts.

Everyone takes a few minutes to catch their breath before Steve is speaking out again. “The weirdest fucking part about this is that I haven’t had time to switch out of my stealth suit.” A moan slips out of your mouth on accident as you clench down on Bucky.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Did she just-”

“Yep.”

“I want you both naked waiting for me on our bed. 15 minutes. Try not to fuck each others brains by then.” Steve abruptly hangs up after that leaving you and Bucky to scramble to the bedroom.

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 4 years ago

Note

tommy is definitely the most self conscious out of the trio while also being the least likely to say anything about it, anything said about his intelligence, appearance, weight, anything really just goes straight to his heart and eats at him. it leads to some amount of friction between him and billy bc while steve’s known tommy his whole life and has had ample time to analyze all his reactions (and is generally the most emotionally intelligent of the trio) he tends to simply praise tommy when flirting. billy just genuinely has no idea and loves to playfully tease tommy as a form of flirting, and even just in general for banter bc that’s just who he is. tommy almost always ends up crying in his car and it ends up taking his self image issues to a degree they haven’t been at since middle school and it goes on for MONTHS until anyone even realizes he’s hurting

instead of leaving off on an abrupt and non-comfort ending again, i’ll offer a nicer one this time. scouts honor. probably.

—

tommy had always been a second choice. besides for a short while when he was steve’s first choice. that was when it mattered.

steve would call him if he was lonely. steve would call him if he had new plans for a party. steve would call him if he was horny. they had their thing.

and then billy hargrove came along and steve stopped calling him as often. and then altogether it ceased.

for three weeks.

“hey, tommy,” steve slipped an arm over his shoulders. all smiley in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. like his mother’s.

tommy stopped himself from shrugging the touch off, decided to enjoy it while it lasted. “hey, how have you been. haven’t heard from you in a while.” he offered the comment as a passive reminder and steve took it. actually looked shocked, like he sincerely hadn’t even realized the passed time.

he took his arm back in but left his hand on tommy’s other shoulder, “i’m so sorry, tom.” his eyes lost their wrinkle and morphed into that deepened look he got when he messed up. tommy knew it very well. steve knew when he made a mistake, could tell easily and it tore him inside. tommy knew that. so he metaphorically bandaged it up per usual.

“it’s alright, man.”

steve linked their arms. tommy glanced around to make sure none of the big-shot homophobes were lurking. steve didn’t seem to care.

“are you sure? are you free friday night? billy and i are going bowling at six. you wanna join?” tommy could lose himself so easily in steve’s eyes. it was infuriating. what was also infuriating was billy. he loved the dude. stared at him just as much as he did steve probably.

but he seemed to never catch steve’s eye anymore.

he cleared his throat and slithered a hand up to steve’s back, “yeah, i’ll be there. same lane as always?”

steve ruffled his hair, earned a laugh out of tommy with it, “definitely. would never let it go. there’re too many memories of ours there.” tommy nodded in agreement and then halted unsurely at steve next words. “maybe we can even start including billy in them now, hm?”

the way he said it. wasn’t even remotely insinuating that tommy should take any hints other than more. but. what if they dropped him. what if steve just forgot about him entirely. what if billy did?

he looked right at steve after those backtracks. and he found only softness. no. they wouldn’t just let him fall off a ledge like that. steve would never.

when steve’s face started to fall he pinched his hip and laughed with him when he head butted tommy’s chest to escape it, he whispered into steve hair. “yeah, more the merrier. right?”

steve grazed his lips across tommy’s collar bone as he stood back up, that smile was the prize.

bowling on friday turned...not exceptional.

billy was a beast, as he was usually. tommy had to watch as steve touched all over him in the beginning. they got all unapologetically close and handsy to his dismay. steve looked at him exasperatedly after a while of billy not taking it seriously, he didn’t know if it was joking or not.

“can you come show hargrove how to steady the ball please. like you taught me. remember?”

tommy did remember. he frowned though, suspicious. the night tommy had tried that move on steve, had ended in their first kiss together. that was special.

but he stepped up and gently nudged and maneuvered billy’s calloused fingers into the ball. he bent his elbow slowly and tapped his shin to indicate the slightly kneeling stance. all while silent.

billy looked rather amused when tommy stepped back to continue, “are you shy? i like your voice, bud, use it.” it sounded more like an order than the flirty tease he was seemingly trying to produce.

tommy coughed and brought billy’s bent elbow back so the ball was closer to the ground, “you aim and you let the ball slip out. put some fire behind it or it’ll gutter. okay?” his tone was rushed but billy was staring at him intensely.

he felt steve’s familiar hand take hold of his bicep and tug him back. didn’t step away and kept close as they watched billy make his play.

he got a strike and threw them both the bird, “told you i didn’t need instructions.” tommy couldn’t hold his smile like steve could.

he cried silently against his pillow that night, thinking back on it.

billy was the one to catch him again three weeks later. the three of them had been going strong. closer due to steve, and even occasionally billy, making sure to invite him to new outings. threw his arm over his shoulders just like steve would normally. he found he liked how there was more muscle weight.

“your face got all red today during practice, have you been drinking enough water?” he poked tommy’s cheek lightly with his index finger. he couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or happy that billy was being so caring.

“i have a, uh, water bottle in my car,” he pointed off to the parking lot.

billy waved a hand dismissively, “steve’s meeting us at the fountain. let’s go there instead.” tommy smiled when billy’s arm grew more relaxed around him. tommy’s own limb was squished into billy’s side by how close they were. billy chuckled to himself and squeezed his hand around tommy’s arm. “you’re so plump,” he commented. tommy felt himself flush in humiliation. “so soft,” he thought he heard him whisper. but after that, billy didn’t say any more and he didn’t remove his hand. seemed content in a way tommy couldn’t understand.

he ended up sobbing in his car after their casual gathering. scratched at the part of his arm billy had held, willing the demeaning thoughts away. plump plump plump. pig.

steve kissed him again another three weeks later. right in front of billy. hugged him so they were hip to hip and so his hands were to the roots in tommy’s own feathered puff of hair.

he gripped the back of steve’s shirt with both hands. felt someone pry them off and hold them not too long after. when they broke off he saw billy staring over steve at him.

“don’t rip the polo now, big boy,” billy grinned and leaned his chin on steve’s shoulder. made a pucker sound and kissed the air towards him. steve turned his head and accepted a peck from billy before facing back to tommy. he felt his heart already shattering though.

steve hummed a pleased laugh with his eyes still closed and placed a hand behind tommy neck before guiding him right to billy’s mouth. his eyes were frozen open as billy’s closed and their lips touched for a short, dry moment.

tommy pulled away with a forced shove. stared right back at the wide open blue and brown eyes. he grabbed his coat off the back of steve’s desk chair and ran out. bawled his goddamn eyes out on the drive home. had to stop at a stop sign longer than he needed to just so he could clear his eyes enough.

don’t rip it. big boy. big. big. big. don’t rip it now. big. big. boy. boy.

he ignored both their calls.

two weeks later he allowed steve to walk with him to their cars.

“you look nice today,” he complimented after they’d been walking for a minute. “always did think yellow was your color.” tommy returned his smile, slowly. and then steve had those sunken eyes again, “i thought you liked him too,” he started off, tommy could tell he wasn’t sure how to carry the conversation.

“are you sure he likes me?” he asked.

steve gave an odd look, “are you kidding? he’s missed you so much he’s about to break into your house at this point.”

tommy blinked twice, “excuse me?”

steve scratched his temple unsurely, “he wants to apologize. we both do. we thought you felt the...same.”

“the same,” tommy repeated.

“tommy!” steve closed his mouth and they both looked over to where billy was jogging over.

steve nudged his arm, “see?” he gestured. billy reached them before tommy could step out.

“tommy,” billy breathed out with a small smile. not a smirk, a smile. “how are you?” the downturn of concern present in his eyes threw tommy off. this was new.

“i don’t really know anymore,” he responded. looked back at steve who hadn’t even turned away. they held their own contact, steve took his hand hesitantly. linked their fingers even slower.

“i’m sorry,” billy rushed out, captured all their attention with it. “it was my idea, to lay one on you.” they all squinted at the wording uncomfortably. tommy wasn’t sure if he was having trouble looking billy in the eye or billy was with him.

he took in a breath and felt both pairs of eyes on him, “i do like you. like...like that. but....” he closed off. but then steve rubbed his thumb across the back of his. the way he always did when encouraging him. so he went on even if he felt unconfident. “i think you’re gorgeous and funny. but, you say things sometimes that...i don’t know,” he excused, even though he did. he tightened his grip on steve’s hand, “it makes me feel ugly.”

he heard steve’s voice harden, “you’re not ugly. you’re the most handsome person i know.” tommy expected billy to make some comment about how he wasn’t even considered.

but what he heard instead was, “the damn cutest i’ve ever seen.”

he looked up at the two of them, took in their smiles and kindling eyes of adoration. aimed at him.

he realized it then, fully, “you both like me.”

steve opened his car door, “mhmmm,” he carefully tucked himself inside the backseat and pulled tommy with him.

tommy blankly watched as billy assisted him in the middle seat and closed the door so they were all inside. together.

billy cupped his cheek, “can i get that kiss by chance, sweet thing?”

he felt steve press a kiss onto his shoulder before he nodded vigorously. billy didn’t disappoint. none of them did.

#you’re lucky i kept going after ‘he ignored both their calls’#yeah i said it #but here. happy ending 🙄#billy hargrove #steve harrington #tommy hagan #keg boys #harringrove #what’s the tag for billy x tommy?#idk but all of them #all the ship #stommy

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spicykoreantatertots · 4 years ago

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Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs - Part One

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: hanahaki, angst, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2400

Warnings: blood, choking, coughing, vomiting, hanahaki disease, relationship issues, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of hospitals

A/N: this is my first fic in a while and i’m happy to finally be able to share something again. i’m determined to finish this series by the end of may and finish my soulmate series this summer.

thank you to @shadowsremedy for this banner and to @thesoftsoobin for beta reading for me.

this was meant to be a gift for @dee-ehn, well it still is a gift, but it should’ve been posted a long time ago. i’m happy to finally be able to present you with this gift, i hope you enjoy part one of Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs!

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

Tonight isn’t the first night that you’ve shown up at Jin’s door sobbing. At this rate, it probably won’t be the last. He still hasn’t read your texts about needing a place to stay, so he’s probably asleep.

You knock loudly a few times, careful not to disturb the floral wreath hanging on the center of the door. And after a few moments you can hear some footsteps inside the apartment. There’s some more silence and then you can hear hushed whispers.

The door creaks open and Jin’s boyfriend Namjoon is standing before you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Namjoon sighs sleepily.

“You scared us! I even got my old tennis racquet out of the closet!” Jin complains before he pokes his head around Namjoon’s broad shoulders. The tear stains and redness of your face instantly catch his attention. “Oh no, what happened?”

For a moment, you can’t say anything. Your chest fills with emotions. Pain, frustration, sadness, heartbreak. The words can’t get past your trembling lips, and soon you feel Jin’s arms envelop you, his sweater absorbing your burning tears.

Somehow, through all your blubbering, Jin has been able to understand what happened with Yoongi. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, guiding you to the couch that will be your bed for the next few nights. Namjoon has brought over a pillow, blanket, and a glass of water for you.

“Why don’t you lay down and try to sleep now? This isn’t going to be resolved tonight, unfortunately,” Namjoon interrupts Jin’s comforting whispers.

“He’s right, Y/N, I can tell you’re exhausted. Try to get some rest.” Jin helps you get settled in bed before following Namjoon into their bedroom.

Jin was right. You are completely exhausted, emotionally drained. But every time you attempt to close your eyes, all you can see is him, the flowers, and the blood.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Evening]

Something is off. He’s been coming home late everyday for the past few weeks. You hoped that today, of all days, he would make an effort. But here you are, alone, surrounded by a table full of his favorite foods. From the moment you got home from work, you’d been on your feet cooking. As if your job waiting tables wasn’t strenuous enough.

Lately it feels like you’re the only one making an effort in this relationship. He leaves for work before you wake up, returns after you’ve gotten into bed for the night. He doesn’t even take the lunches you pack for him to work anymore. You never would have suspected Yoongi of cheating on you, but his behavior is making you question everything you thought you knew.

Today will be the final straw, you told yourself. If he didn’t make it home in time for dinner on your three year anniversary, it would be time to confront him. But as six turns into seven and seven into eight, you decide to pack the meal into tupperware.

You expected tears to come, but they didn’t. Your cheeks are bone dry while you pile the rice into a slightly warped plastic container. You’re in disbelief, or perhaps you just expected this all along. The containers of untouched anniversary dinner stack neatly in the refrigerator.

The sound of keys jingling against the door signals his arrival before he opens the door. You lean yourself against the kitchen counter, grounding yourself.

“Hey babe, happy anniversary!” Yoongi’s smile shines, like it always does, but his eyes aren’t as bright. He’s carrying a bouquet of small sunflowers.

“Happy anniversary.” A faint smile crosses your face as he hands you the bouquet. He looks a little puzzled by your lack of gratitude. But then he notices the pile of dishes in the sink.

“Oh, did you make dinner?” You nod silently as Yoongi shuffles the pots and pans around in the sink. “I made us reservations at The Table. Did you eat already?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“No!” You try again, this time suppressing the surprise in your voice. “No, I haven’t. That sounds really good.” Maybe things aren’t as bleak as they seem; at least he didn’t completely forget.

The ride to the restaurant is nearly silent, some tacky radio advertisements playing quietly. He’s holding your hand, but you’re looking out the window, focused on everything but the uncomfortable quiet. Yoongi breaks the silence and mentions something about the project he’s working on at the studio.

The studio, you think to yourself. Of course that’s all he can talk about. His passion has always been music. You were both thrilled when he got an entry level job at a music studio, and at the beginning things were good. But Yoongi always strives to be the best, and he moved up the ladder to Assistant Producer in less than a year.

Whatever album he’s working on now has kept him away from you for far too long.

“So when is that album releasing anyway?”

“Later this summer, but our work on it is almost done.” He says, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“So you’ll be back home at normal times?”

“Well...” Yoongi glances over at you. “Jungkook wants me to work on another project with him when this one’s over.”

“I’m glad your boss likes your work, but hasn’t he ever heard of a work-life balance?”

“Jungkook is NOT my boss. He's-” Yoongi starts.

“Well he’s not your girlfriend either!” You shout. “You’re never home anymore Yoongi.” Your hand slips from his and you cross your arms.

“This is my career.” Something catches in his throat, he coughs a little. You knew he loved his job, but you never heard him get emotional about it.

“So I just need to accept that I’ll never get to see you again?” Yoongi pulls up to the front of the restaurant, in line for valet parking.

“Do you want to go home and keep fighting or do you want to get dinner?” He asks, still trying to clear his throat.

The restaurant is very nice: a robust wine selection, a pianist playing in one corner, and a sleek menu. The other tables are talking in quiet voices to retain the romantic ambiance of the place. You and Yoongi are doing your part by not speaking at all.

He’s making it tough though; he keeps coughing. You hope he’s not getting sick.

“Are you okay?” You ask, passing him a tissue from your purse, trying your best not to sound angry.

“Yeah I’ve just got something stuck in my throat, excuse me.” Yoongi snatches the tissue from your hand before walking toward the restroom.

When he returns, he looks a little worse for the wear. His skin looks paler, his hair mussed, and a wet spot on his shirt.

“Are you getting sick?” You have to ask him now. “What’s that?” You point to the wet spot just below his collar.

“I got some spit on my shirt. I do think I’m coming down with something, but I’ll be fine.” Something doesn’t seem right. He looks more than sick, almost paranoid.

Through the rest of the night he coughs here and there, but he seems to regain his composure. His long dark locks get tucked behind his ear, and for a moment you can forget how hard things have been lately. He asks about your work friends and hobbies and seems to listen intently. The curve of his smile draws a smile out of you too.

Between dinner and dessert, Yoongi reaches across the smooth table cloth to take your hand in his. His thumb gently strokes your fingers.

“You know that I love you, right?” He asks, his smile faded to a straight line. You squeeze his hand.

“You’re going to have to do a better job of showing it.”

~~~~~~~

You’re not sure if it’s the best move, but you want to show him that you haven’t given up yet. When you step out of the bathroom, wearing a revealing chemise, Yoongi is sitting on his side of the bed, facing away from you.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, climbing onto the bed. He sighs, and you reach for his shoulders. You begin rubbing his shoulder muscles, feeling the tension in them slowly releasing. Kneading his back muscles with your fingers, you lean forward to lay kisses along his broad shoulders.

“Baby, can we not tonight?” You freeze, not sure you heard him correctly. “I know it’s our anniversary, I just don’t feel good.” You remove your hands from his body.

“Yeah, of course. There’s some cough medicine and painkillers in the bathroom if it will help.” You reply, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through your twitter feed so you can hide your embarrassment.

“I’m going to take a shower. You don’t have to wait up for me.” He gets up from the bed and enters the bathroom without glancing your way. You settle into the blankets and try to relax.

You can hear him coughing again once the shower turns on. You turn over in bed, his sudden cold demeanor reminding you of the trouble your relationship is really in. It’s hard to fall asleep to the sound of your boyfriend coughing violently, but you manage to drift away.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

The sound of Namjoon leaving the apartment wakes you. It must be around 7:30 or so. Jin is in the kitchen quietly making coffee, still in his pajamas.

“Jin, are you not going to work today?” You say in a half-whisper, not wanting to startle him.

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay with you today,” Jin explains, walking over to the couch with two mugs of coffee. He made yours just the way you like it, almond milk and a little bit of sugar. The warmth of the drink momentarily soothes your sleepy body.

Jin reaches across the coffee table and picks up the tv remote. He turns on a morning talk show, some washed-up celebrity talking to slightly less washed-up celebrities about what projects or life events they have going on.

“And later on in the show we will be joined by Jackson Wang, who will share his story of heartbreak and unrequited love that ultimately lead to the creation of his latest single, 100 ways.” The audience cheers for a moment before Jin switches the channel.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“I don’t think that’s what the song is about...” You joke, sarcasm seeping through the pain in your chest.

Jin chuckles at your remark, but he sits uncomfortably at the end of the couch picking at his fingernails.

“Listen I wanted to say something...” He starts.

“Jin, do you think I could shower before we get into anything? I just need a minute to wake up and I feel kind of gross.” The mascara stains from the night before are beginning to irritate your skin, and a hot shower could do wonders for you. But truthfully, you just aren’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Sure, I’ll grab some sweats you can borrow.” Jin sighs, getting up from his seat.

The hot water melts away the tension in your muscles, but the tension in your mind remains. It’s difficult to keep the images of Yoongi coughing up dozens and dozens of yellow and orange petals from flooding your mind. The drops of blood on the petals and the floor just showed you how far the disease had progressed. How long he’s been in love with someone else.

The floral scent of Jin’s lavender body wash is a little too reminiscent of the smell from the night before. Sickly sweet flowers with a hint of acidic bile and metallic blood. The clean water rinses the suds but the scent remains on your skin.

When you close your eyes to rinse shampoo from your hair, the scene from the night before plays out in vivid detail.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

You had been awakened by the sounds of Yoongi retching in the bathroom. You called out for him, but he didn’t answer, so you let yourself in.

He is doubled over the toilet. A dozen or so brightly colored petals scattered around him, some smeared with watery blood. The moment you burst in, he tried to hide the extent of it, tried not to let you see but he knew it was useless. He let himself lean against the wall in defeat.

The violent episode he was experiencing seemed to come to a halt.

“Are you...” You pause, there are too many questions to ask, but you know there is only one you can ask in the moment. “Are you okay?” He closes his eyes and nods slowly. You take a moment to examine his face. It’s red, and there are tear streaks clear down his chin. There’s drops of blood and sweat on his bare chest. His heavy breathing is slowing back to normal.

And then you have to leave. You can’t stay and look at him and his flower petals any longer. It looks like he’ll be okay for the night, so you grab your purse and phone and walk straight through the door.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

Bumps rise across your skin as you exit the shower and step onto the cold floor tiles. You wrap a towel around your body and sit on the edge of the bathtub. Your phone, face down on the counter, buzzes again, and you decide to face the messages you ignored last night.

You scroll through the usual email and social media notifications to get to the dozens of texts and missed calls from Yoongi, still unsure if you should even hear him out. How can he still be in love with you when he’s been growing flowers for someone else?

A phone call interrupts your thinking. The number has a local area code. A sudden feeling of nausea tells you that something is wrong.

“Hello?” Your voice echos against the tiled walls.

“Hello we are trying to reach Ms. Y/L/N Y/N.”

“This is her.”

“You are listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Min Yoongi. He has been admitted to the ICU at Grace Regional Medical Center, how quickly can you get here?”

~~~~~~~

A/N: thank you so much for reading. check out my master list here, and check back in for part two. it will be posted by the end of april 2021!

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efkgirldetective · 4 years ago

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~part III~ of this little prompt series ( part I & part II icymi )

much gratitude to @missgryffin for one prompt & the same anon as the previous prompt for the other one!! <3 absolutely TICKLED to indulge my obsession with post-traumatic injury reunions <3

pajamas + purple + panic

doodle + indigo + relief

A soft knock on the bathroom door. “Evans? Everything all right? You’ve been—oi, I’m standing here, will you—what d’you mean leave her alone, she’s—oh, come off it, Lupin, I’m just trying to be a help, honestly—”

Lily presses her forehead to cool porcelain. Focuses on one breath in; one breath out. It doesn't work. Her stomach roils, and she sicks up. Hardly anything left—but it burns just the same.

There's scuffling outside the door, voices quick and low. Lily flushes the basin and rises to the sink, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. Swishes around mouth rinse and spits it out. Washes her hands and turns the light off and takes a backward look at her reflection, hand on the doorknob.

Her face is stark and pale and scared, even in the dim.

The door swings open to Remus and Sirius mid-argument. They fall silent; turn to her, cautious.

“I’m fine,” she says, though she doesn’t meet their eyes, either. Pulls at the sleeves of her linen blouse, at the collar; sticky with nervous sweat. Remus takes out his wand and casts a cooling charm. She closes her eyes to it and nods. “Thank you.”

“Jesus, Evans,” Sirius murmurs, his hand on her arm. She wants to pull off, turn from the touch, tell them both to piss off —but the tightness in her throat intensifies, the pit in her stomach glomming like a rock. She loses footing, body asway; Sirius catches her elbow and pulls her forward, into the crook of his shoulder.

Lily takes a long, painful breath.

That morning she woke from fitful sleep to disorientation; pain; loneliness; panic. Remembering James, a room away, deep in spelled sleep. Remembering, disjointedly, the tossed-off owl from St. Mungo’s: ...three weeks lapsed...tri-monthly Contraceptive Charm...would you care to reschedule your appointment?

The bleary eyes, the dry throat, the: This can’t be right—

I never forget—

I never forget.

The problem with war is the blur. The carousel of unease, its unremitting haze; the constant, constant disruption. The this is not my time anymore. The my time belongs to war.

Lily feels sick again, suddenly, tucked in Sirius’ shoulder. It’s not the right time. This isn’t our time.

Remus puts a steady palm on her back, as if he can feel her tremble. Voice low, “there’s something else, isn’t there?”

She raises her head—and how clearly he seems to see her. His hair is overgrown; the color of sand wet with sea. All those narrow silver scars. She tries to say his name but nothing comes out, and besides that there’s another voice, round the corner of the hall:

“Lads? He’s awake—oh, shit, Lils, he's up, he's—”

“He’s awake?” Sirius interrupts, disbelieving.

Peter looks drained, nodding. “Awake.”

Remus urges Lily, palm on back—but it's Sirius she looks to, now. The skin beneath his eyes made into translucent half-moons. “We’ll be just on—you go.”

She pauses one more half a second, then goes. Feels a tremor overtaking. Rushing so quickly she nearly smacks into Mags, exiting. The door cracked an inch. “Be gentle, yeah? It’s fragile. But—a day or so of rest, he’s good as fine.”

“Maggie,” Lily breathes, tunneling the woman into her arms. Gripping like she doesn’t know how hard she holds. Entrenched in gratitude—for her, for him; maybe, for a third. “Thank you.”

“All in time, Evans,” Mags says gruffly, pulling back, bristling. “All in time.”

Lily steps in slowly, squinting at the brightness. Someone has opened the shades and the room is light with midday. In the center, in their bed, pillowed upright by cushions and sheets, blanketed in the purple quilt her mother made for them—James sitting up, open-eyed.

Lily inhales deeply and blinks to be sure that it’s right; that it’s real. Amid such a downy pile he looks younger. But his eyes are blaring gold, glasses un-cracked—and he’s breathing.

“Hi,” he says, quietly, sheepishly. Someone put him in pajamas. The green-and-white striped collared shirt buttoned unevenly, off by one looped hole.

At such a little thing, the pulp of Lily's heart gives a definitive jolt.

She stumbles. Slows; remembers Mags saying fragile. Looks down to his leg, bandaged and glowing the deep indigo of stasis charms. Her throat locks and she remembers the morning; her hapless nerves. Turns her head out of necessity, eyes landing on the bedside table, the little framed sketch of her own profile—doodled by James in the back of seventh-year Charms.

She turns back and finds him apprehensive, chewing at his lower lip, as if she’s the one that should be handled carefully. As if he didn’t fall to his knees and nearly leave her for good. “Hi,” she tries—and it really almost works, if it weren’t for the cracking, midway, for the way his arm falls down onto the bed, palm up, open, reaching, for the way he breathes out—

“Lils.”

She goes to him. Feels the palm, carefully, with her own—and skin so familiar, and finally warm, and dear, fingers latching onto hers, that she folds forward at the waist, unable to stop, face pressed wholly to the bend of his arm. Mouthing at the skin, desperate to prove he is solid; prove he is whole. “I’m sorry.”

“No, love, no,” he murmurs, and he’s threading a hand through her hair, urging her face upward, till she finds herself facing the uneven buttons—a detail still so tender that it breaks her over again. Reaching out to touch any reachable part; the other elbow, the good leg, the hollow space between collarbones.

“Come on,” he says, so earnestly.

“Don’t you—” she cuts her head to the side and suddenly exhaustion crashes over her; the night of poor sleep, the morning so blue with sickness and owl and abrupt, unwelcome truth. “Don’t you go and pull that shit ever again, Potter, you can’t just—” His hand stroking up through her hair, his hand cradling her jaw. “I won’t live without you.” And it’s irrational and true. His thumb across her lips. “You arsehole,” she adds, though she’s crying—though the sentiment is real—though her lungs are crying out for air.

“Rather selfish of me to nearly die, I realize," his mouth quirking minutely, a smirk so gentle and so Jameslike it pains. “And I apologize, I really do, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Honestly,” she laughs, cut through at once with pain and a flood of gentle levity, his eyes so bright and healthy; the sweet flopping of dark hair over forehead. “Honestly.”

His throat moves. There’s no time to tell him—not the right time—others wanting reunions, wanting confirmation he’s awake. But his face so open and honest. “We’ll be okay,” he says, always quick to ground, to hold steady; to carry her face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, words gone out. Kisses him on the cheek, on the other. “Stay with me,” she begs. Implores. “I love you, stay with me.”

His brow creased in a tender pull. Breath shallow and warm when their lips meet between, pulling her out of herself. Everything will wait. Relief is like a river; long, slow, and plenty.

#weve got an unplanned pregnancy on our hands boys #jily #fic #marauders

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years ago

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 73

Title: Best Laid Plans

Warnings: some profanity, talk of domestic abuse, child death

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother, @lokitrasho, @miss-smutty, @raith-way, @ocappreciation

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/85024549

He’s up at quarter to six; throwing on a muscle shirt and a pair of work out pants and slipping into the well worn sneakers he keeps by the back door. A run on the beach as the sun peeks over the horizon is exactly what he needs; his bad knees cushioned by sand beneath him, a steady, cool breeze blowing in off the ocean, and the sky painted in vivid orange and gold and stunning pink streaks. The two dogs run on either side of him; their tags clinking against their collars, each carrying a tennis ball in their mouths in hopes of play after the hard work is done. The excursion to his body is calming to both brain and soul; pushing all thoughts of Mark and his devious intentions onto the back burner and concentrating on nothing but his breathing and his heart rate and the sights and sounds around him. And once at the finish line, he bends at the waist and places his hands on his thighs; eyes closed as the sweat trickles off his forehead and runs down his nose and his temples and gathers at the nape of his neck. Chest heaving and burning; a familiar discomfort that serves to remind him of just how far he’s come. Fighting against the odds to complete the long and painful recovery after the incident with Nathan and coming out almost as good as he was before; strong, agile, his health better than it's ever been. He’d somehow survived and he’d long ago swore he'd never take another minute for granted; always grateful to wake up and find himself on top of the ground instead of below it.

After a half an hour of entertaining the dogs, he returns home; splashing cold water on his face and neck and running wet hands through his sweaty hair and then heading for the kitchen. Busying himself with the morning routine; brewing his coffee and the three shots of espresso he always adds to it. The smoothies are next; a wide selection of fresh fruit and various supplements and vitamins recommended by both his doctor and Esme’s fetal and maternal medicine specialist. And the moment he hears her footsteps above -small and light, but just heavy enough to NOT be a child- he begins preparing her breakfast; kettle boiling for her tea while he throws a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and gathers up a container of plain yogurt and a handful of different fruits to chop. He glances over his shoulder and smiles in greeting when she joins him; messy hair held away from her face and out of her eyes with a sparkly purple headband stolen from one of their daughters and her tiny frame clad in a pair of baggy Hello Kitty night shorts and one of his t-shirts. And before he can open his mouth to offer up a ‘good morning’, she’s wrapping her around his waist from behind; yawning loudly and rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his shirt before laying her head against his back.

“Babe…” he warns. “ I probably stink. Gonna make you pass out. Give the baby in utero PTSD.”

“Bullshit. You smell good. You smell like a man. MY man. “

“All the kids still asleep?”

Esme nods. “You already went for a run?”

“Just a small one. Took the dogs with me. Tired them out.”

“I thought you said Sunday was your ‘set in stone rest day’?

“I did. But that’s just for lifting heavy.” Turning around to face her, he takes her face in his hands, turning her head up towards him as he leans down to kiss her. “I’m still going to run every day.”

“You know how I feel about this; when it comes to you pushing yourself too hard.”

“I know you worry. I know you don’t blow out my knee or fuck my femur up somehow. I’m taking it easy; I’m not going full tilt and I’m not ignoring my body when it starts screaming at me. I’m doing a lot better; when it comes to recognizing the signs and paying attention to them.”

“I just want you to be careful. I don’t want you hurting yourself. And you've been spending a lot of time in the gym. You went from one three hour a work out a day to TWO. That’s a lot, babe. Even for a bad ass like you. I know you feel this need to be bigger and stronger and…”

“I’m past that. Maybe just looking to put on another ten. That’s it. That’s probably as big as I’ll ever get again. Sorry. No return to the thicc, lumberjack stage that you enjoyed so much.”

“I DID enjoy it. You had the big muscles and the extra weight in your tummy and your hair was short and your beard was really thick. It was a good look on you. A VERY good look.”

“But…”

“But I love you EVERY way. And how your body is right now? That’s how you looked when we met. When I fell in love with you. So it tends to be my favourite. It’s very sentimental to me. And you know what would make it even MORE sentimental?”

“If you want me to get the haircut, I’ll get the haircut.”

“You would do that for little old me? You’d do that to keep your pregnant and extremely hormonal wife happy?”

“I would do anything for you. Pregnant or not.”

“Best husband ever,” she declares, and stands on her tip toes as he kisses her once more; hands tightly grasping the sides of his t-shirt.

She’d long ago gotten used to that ‘after work out’ stench; the potent tang of sweat , the lingering remains of laundry detergent, and the cool, brisk, freshness of antiperspirant. It’s HIS smell. One that reminds her of safety and protection and love. Of HOME. When he’s away, it’s those combined, familiar scents that offer comfort; bringing solace to her aching heart and effectively relieving at least some of the fear and worry nagging at her. Sleeping with his pillow every night and often wearing one of his t-shirts or bundling herself up in one of his hoodies; soothed by the smell of him clinging to the sheets and clothes and subduing her rattled nerves just enough for her to fall asleep.

It never gets easier; kissing him goodbye at the front door or the airport and then wondering -as he walks away- if she’ll ever see him again. The job isn’t a life you ever really get used to; lying to yourself when you tell others that you’re completely fine with your husband being thousands of miles away, putting his life on the line in the hopes of saving another. But she copes; knowing he can more than handle himself when it comes to the physical aspect and that he’ll do whatever it takes to get back to her and the kids. But the ache is real when he’s not under the same roof; both her and their brood feeling his absence and both saddened and angered about it. And the worry and fear never disappear; feeling as if she’s holding her breath the entire time, never releasing it until the moment he walks back through the front door. Safe and sound.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he turns towards the counter once more; snagging a knife from the butcher’s block and preparing the only breakfast her stomach has been able to handle. Dry toast accompanied by chunks of fresh fruit, a smoothie containing all the vitamins and supplements recommended by her doctor, and a tea that helps with calming both her tummy and her nerves. While the nausea lingers throughout the entire day, the mornings have been especially horrendous; unable to keep even the smallest sips of water down and struggling with both weakness and dizziness. All of the pregnancies have been the same in that respect; losing weight before actually managing to put it on, suffering from headaches and queasiness and even a handful of scares that sent them running to the hospital in fear there was something terribly wrong. But the sixth pregnancy is turning out to be an even bigger struggle; half a dozen different medications fighting to keep her blood pressure down, help her sleep, and keep her eating and drinking properly.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Tyler remarks, as she moves to the stove to tend to the boiling kettle. Offering a mug with the tea bag already in it; his hand briefly resting on the small of her back as he places a kiss on her temple. “You were sleeping pretty good when I went on my run.”

Sighing, she sets the mug down on the stovetop and fills it with water. “I probably still would be if your spawn didn’t wake me up out of nowhere and send me on a mad dash to the bathroom. I’ve come to expect SOME sickness, but this?”

“This one’s giving you an extra hard time, huh? What did the doctor say? Something about making too much human growth hormone? I don’t know. She completely lost me when she broke out the science speak.”

“A variant of it. And it’s too much of ALL the hormones. Kind of weird; that the last pregnancy would be the worst. You’d think it would be the easiest; your body totally used to everything, able to push that sucker out with only two tries. I swear to Christ, Tyler. If this is another Millie labour…”

“You’ll cut my dick off?”

“That’s a little extreme. You need your dick. It’s still very useful. I’ll just chop your balls off. So you can’t make any more swimmers.”

“How about we not do that and just let the surgeon handle things?”

“I want a goddamn guarantee from him that this isn’t going to happen again; your penis remarkably healing itself and letting those swimmers of yours have free reign.”

“I’m going to jump in here for a second. You realize your body fucked up too, yeah? That it took BOTH of us to make this baby? Your tubes were tied. Right after you had Kota and Brookie. You’re not supposed to be able to get pregnant in the first place.”

She stares at him over the rim of her mug. “Even if I hadn’t gotten them tied, you weren’t supposed to be able to produce any sperm. Ever again. For the rest of your natural born life. But low and behold…”

“You…” He points the knife at her. “...need to accept some responsibility in all of this.”

She huffs, taking a sip of tea and then setting it on the stove; hands on her hips in a show of defiance. “I will do no such thing.”

“Come on, this can’t all be pinned entirely on me. Both our bodies had to screw up for this to happen. So be a big girl…” snagging her by the front of her t-shirt, he gently pulls her into him. “...and take some of the blame.”

She stares up at him; a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth and those enormous, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. “No. You can’t make me.”

“Listen pocket wife, I’m a foot and three inches taller than you and almost a hundred pounds heavier. I can make you.”

“I’d like to see you try. You don’t intimidate me. Your muscles and your resting asshole face and all those tattoos and scars. They don’t scare me a bit.”

“You realize I have ways of convincing you, don’t you? Ways that don’t involve intimidation. “

“Yeah?” Both hands clutch the front of her shirt as her body leans into his. “What kind of ways are we talking about then?”

He swipes the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. “Sexual ones.”

“You realize that sounds more like pleasure than punishment, right?”

“You remember that thing we did back in New York City. In the bathtub. The thing you claim to hate but always seem to love? The one thing that I always can count on to make you squirt? Do you know what thing I’m talking about?”

“I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about.”

“Well next time around, when you least expect it? I’m going to do that twice as much. Only this time there won’t be a happy ending. For you, anyway.”

Her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes. Yes I would.”

“You’re evil.”

“Most evil husband out there.”

“You may be the most evil, but you’re also the sexiest out there. So at least you have THAT going for you,” she chides, giving a tiny yelp when he brings a palm down on the cheek of her ass in a ringing slap. Giggling when his hand reverts to lightly pinching and squeezing before drawing her into him; body pressed against his and her hands tightening their grip on his shirt as he leans down to kiss her. Long and slow and deep; the brief contact between their tongues finding her curling her toes and sighing into his mouth.

When he pulls away he’s smiling down at her; blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of unbridled lust and pure adoration. Hand moving from her ass to the side of her cheek; knuckles grazing over the soft skin before gentle fingertips clear wayward strands of hair away from her face and tuck them behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

“You need glasses.”

“I already knew that. But needing them doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

The smile she gives is shaky; tears welling in her eyes as a lump of emotion wedges firmly in her throat. It’s overwhelming at times; seeing his love, adoration, and affection laid so bare. This big, strong man with his myriad of tattoos and scars and a lifetime of trauma, guilt, and regret. So brave and fearless yet so vulnerable at the same time; possessing a heart that he’s even bigger than his body and a beauty to his soul that not even his father, Asif, Mahajan, or Nathan had been able to rob him of. Working as a team, she’d spent years helping chip away at the seemingly impenetrable walls that he’d built around his heart; patiently urging him outside of his comfort zone and encouraging that humanity lingering inside of him to make itself fully known. In the end, the reward was far beyond anything she could ever imagined; a man that loves her so wholly and completely. And profoundly. So much so it often takes her breath away; and all consuming and often leaving her feeling unworthy of such devotion.

He frowns when he notices the tears in her eyes and the tell tale wobble of her lower lip and chin. “What’s the matter? Why are you gonna cry? What…?”

Her voice comes out as a childlike whimper; reminding him of Addie when she’s been scolded or has had a particularly rough run in with Millie and the teasing was just too much to take. “I really need a hug right now.”

Setting the knife on the counter, he gathers her in his arms. One arm circling her waist as a hand settles on the back of her skull; palm lightly pressing her head into his chest. And when she stands on the top of his feet and perches on her tiptoes in order to return the embrace, he crouches down until she’s able to successfully wrap both arms around his neck. His beautiful, tiny wife; his best friend, truest confident, and his rock during his darkest and most dire of times. Always sticking by his side no matter how difficult he sometimes makes things; forever patient and attentive during the long and painful recovery after Nathan, always forgiving him for his sins and mistakes even when he can’t forgive himself. Suddenly seeming so weak and vulnerable herself; her entire body trembling and her tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he promises, and presses a kiss to her ear. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s ALL gonna be okay.”

*****

He hates seeing her like this; face lined with worry and exhaustion, shoulders drooped as if carrying the weight of the world upon them, eyes dark and downcast instead of sparkling and playful. He’d long ago gotten used to her morning persona; overly cheerful and extremely talkative compared to his grumpiness and need for complete and utter silence until he’s at least finished his coffee. So it’s unsettling when she deviates from the norm; missing the familiarity and the routine of her chattiness and her teasing and witty banter. Instead completely silent as she sits across from him at the table on the back deck; her feet resting in his lap as she merely nibbles at the dry toast and moves the pieces of various fruits around on her plate.

He gestures at her plate with his fork. “You need to eat. Start putting weight on instead of it dropping off.”

“It’s not like I’m NOT trying.” She spears a chunk of watermelon and brings it to her lips, taking a tiny bite before setting it back down again. “I WANT to eat. My body is BEGGING me to eat. But it’s kind of hard when you just feel...I don’t know...off.”

“Something we need to worry about? Something to do with the baby?”

“No. I feel fine that way. Other than being crazy nauseous and already having insane heartburn. How much hair is this kid going to have? Because the only other time I suffered this bad…”

“We ended up with Addie. Hairiest damn kid I have EVER seen. Hands down.”

She manages a smile, then nibbles at a slice of dry toast. “Remember how it was practically head to toe? Because she was a preemie?”

“She looked like a little monkey. A cute one, mind you. But a monkey.”

“Don’t ever say that to her. It’ll be her new obsession; monkey this, monkey that. None of our other babies had much hair. If any at all. Well, Declan…”

“I will never forget seeing that head of hair. Bright red.”

“You looked so confused,” Esme muses, as she once more pulls her plate towards her and attempts to eat. “When he was crowning. It was like he had two heads or something.”

Tyler winks at her from across the table. “I was trying to figure out when you had time to get busy with me AND the cable guy.”

“Baby, he is all yours. Without a doubt. The cable man didn’t stand a chance getting close to me. So unless you can get pregnant just by breathing the same air as someone…”

“I hope you’d have better standards than that guy. If you’re going to do something like that, can you at least have the respect to go a notch higher than I am in quality?”

“That’s not even remotely possible. You’re already on the very top rung of quality. In fact, you’re in another league all your own. All by yourself. If you have the best, why settle for less?”

A grin plays on his mouth. “You are so good for my ego.”

“Besides, we both know I’m the last person that would EVER do something like that. I am way too hopelessly and madly and wildly in love with you. Always have been. Always will be. So unless you’re planning on going somewhere, you’re stuck with me. For the long haul.”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am. And with who I’m with. You know that, yeah? That I’d never do something like that. No matter who’s trying to get with me? I would never...EVER..cheat on you.”

“This is stemming from my insecurities, isn't it? Those women yesterday.”

“I just wanted to get it out there. I don’t care about any of them. There might as well not even be any other women on earth. The only one that matters? The only one I want? Is you. And that’s not going to change.”

“And you say I’m good for YOUR ego?”

“I mean, maybe it doesn’t need to be said. Maybe you already realize all that. Or maybe you’re going to tell me that you don’t need the words; you can see everything in my eyes anyway. I just think sometimes I should say it. Who knows, maybe I need to tell you more than you need to hear it.”

Well…” She reaches for his hand that rests on the tabletop, running her fingertips along his forearm and over his palm before lacing their fingers together. “...a girl DOES like to hear how much she’s adored and worshipped.”

“I thought you like it better when I SHOW you how much.”

“That too. But sometimes it’s a nice little bonus; hearing the words.”

Pushing his chair away, he stands and leans across the table; free hand reaching out to cradle her cheek in its palm. “I worship you. I adore you. I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

While tears sparkle in her eyes, her smile is genuine; filling out her cheeks and crinkling the bridge of her nose. “And you say you’re not romantic.”

He bends down to kiss her; the soft press and languid movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. “I do have my moments,” he says with a grin, running the tip of a finger down the bridge of her nose, playfully tapping the end of it before returning to his seat.

They sit in companionable silence. Enjoying the crisp, refreshing breeze that rolls in off the ocean and the familiar yet calming sounds of the outdoors. The waves rolling up onto the shore, the rustling of the trees as they sway in the wind and the different melodies that come from Esme’s collection of wind chimes attached to the awnings of the pool house. It’s home. The familiar yet never boring sights and sounds of the where they’re the most comfortable; where they grow and nurture their family and take advantage of the many spoils given to them by such a beautiful and expansive piece of land.

Returning to Australia had been the best move they’d ever made. The start of strengthening not only their marriage, but every aspect of the life and relationship they share; making sure to nurture and grow each separate component that makes them, THEM. Often having to pull back from the chaos and stress of everyday existence to remind themselves that they’re not just spouses and people raising kids together; they’re each other’s confidants, best friends and devoted and faithful lovers. Two unique individuals that share a bond unlike many could ever fully understand; broken and in tatters when they’d first met yet somehow managing to comfort and heal one another. What had happened in Dhaka will forever remain the foundation their life together has been built open. A rather odd concoction of many things; shared grief and regret, adrenaline and fear, profound lust accompanied by the pangs of the heart that remind you that you’re still human. And a lot of blood, sweat and tears. All combined with the unforgettable stenches of raw sewage, blood and sweat, and spilled gasoline.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He breaks the silence first, pushing away his empty plate and reaching for his smoothie. Satisfied with her attempt to get food into her belly; her own meal almost completely finished save for a couple bites of toast and a small handful of grapes. Her feet once more resting in his lap; both hands curled around the plastic tumbler that contains the thickened ‘super shake’ he’d made for her earlier.

“By ‘it’ I’m assuming you mean Mark?”

Tyler nods.

“What more is there to say? He’s in town. Not like there’s anything we can really do about it. Not until he at least makes a move.”

“I’ve got guys trying to track him down. Looking into every hotel, every bed and breakfast, every short term rental within a fifty mile radius. Unless he’s gone totally off the grid and he’s holed up in a cave somewhere, my guys will find him.”

“Is that really what you were doing last night? Taking care of all of that stuff? Getting people going on all this?”

“It was some of what I was doing. Not all of it. When you came in, I was doing exactly what I told you I was. I’d already gotten it all set up; guys already starting to dig. Told ‘em not to leave any stone unturned; Mark’s crafty and he’s slippery and he’s going to do everything he can to avoid me catching up to him. He wants the element of surprise; get to you when my guard is down. I’m hoping to get to him before that happens.”

“When do you ever let your guard down?”

“Even I slip up, Esme. You know that better than anyone.”

“Tyler Rake doesn’t make mistakes when it’s family on his line. He rarely makes them when it’s complete strangers he’s looking out for. You’re not the type to fall asleep at the wheel, babe. Especially when it comes to the kids. And ESPECIALLY when it comes to me.”

“I can’t be around you twenty-four seven. There’s going to be times I can’t be with you. As much as I’d love to be glued to your hip…”

“Do you trust the guys you picked? You don’t exactly hand that out lightly, Tyler. And you’ve always been very careful about who you bring into the business. You’ve always had the strictest hiring practices I’ve ever seen. You don’t just bring anyone aboard. And if you’re willing to put them in charge of keeping an eye on him…”

“I trust them when it comes to the job. They’re some of the best I’ve ever seen, actually.”

“Other than yourself, you mean.

“They’re good, Me. They’re quick on their feet and they’re strong as fuck and they will not back down. From anyone or anything.”

“But…”

“But I don’t fully trust anyone when it comes to you. That’s not something I can give; just hand over your life like that. No matter how well I know someone or how good of a merc they are. But I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s not possible to be around every second of every day. I wish it was. I wish I was the only one taking care of you. But…”

“If your gut tells you that these guys can handle it, then that’s what you go with. I trust you, Tyler. Whether it’s protecting me on your own or making the decision to hand it off to someone else. Your instincts are so strong. Some of the strongest I have ever seen. And if they’re telling you that this is right...that these men are right…”

“They’re telling me that I don’t have any other choice. That I NEED to trust these guys. And I want to Esme; I want to be able to sit here and tell you that I trust them one hundred percent. But other than you? There’s no one I trust that way.”

“If you say this is the right decision and that these are the right people, then I’ll go with that. Because I trust YOU. I always have. I always will. So if this is the move you need to make and you’re confident in it…”

“As confident as I’m gonna be.”

“Then there’s nothing more to talk about. If you trust them, then so do I. Simple as that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then offers a small smile and once more takes her hand; lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“I know you don’t have any answers. And to be honest, I don’t expect any. But I just don’t understand. Why is he doing this? Why now? If it’s a revenge thing, why wait this long? I haven’t been married to him for fifteen years. Why wait that long?”

“I don’t know, Me. I don’t even know if that’s his angle.”

“Everything says it is. What else could he possibly want? Do you think he’s a threat? To me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler reluctantly admits. “I do. He wouldn’t come out of the woodwork after all this time and play all those little mind games in New York and then make it a point to show up here IF he wasn’t planning something. I just don't know exactly what it is. Or when he’s gonna make his move. And hopefully the guys I have trying to find him will track him down. Sooner the better.”

“What will they do with him? If they do find him?”

“Found a little out of the way place in the northern territory. Somewhere they can keep him; until I can get there. Off the beaten track, no through roads, heavy bush. Not a single soul around. Figure that’s for the best, yeah? Keep him somewhere no one can hear screaming and pleading for his life.”

“You’re going to handle that yourself?”

“Hopefully. Told my guys that they can rough him up, but I want him very much alive. So he can feel every goddamn thing I do to him. And I know you’re probably thinking this is a throwback to McMann; taking him hostage and torturing his ass. But…”

“You do what you need to do, Tyler. You do whatever you feel he deserves. I’m not going to think any less of you. And Lord knows that I’ve had quite a few fantasies about how brutal I would love you to be if you ever got your hands on him. I’m not going to ask how and I don’t expect you to tell me. You just do what you need to do. To make him suffer and make him pay for what…” Her voice cracks; tears of both rage and insurmountable pain welling in her eyes. “...just make him pay. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

Sliding his chair away from the table, he’s at her side in only three long strides; dropping to a knee in front of her and taking her trembling hands in his.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

“I’ll make him pay, Esme. I promise.”

“Everything he did to him. Everything he said. It’s just all coming back. All those horrible, mean, degrading things he called me. All the times he forced me to do disgusting, horrible things to him. All the nasty, gross shit that HE did to ME.”

He feels the rage that immediately begins to take hold; his jaw setting and tightening and the blue of his eyes becoming much darker. Bile settling in the back of his throat; acrid and burning. He hates hearing about it; the horrific things that she’d been subjected to at the hands of someone who was supposed to love her, protect her, and give her a good life. The person he loves more than anything else in the world and would gladly lay his life down for. Not just his wife, but his best friend and the mother of his children and the centre of his universe.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” he says, and tightly squeezes her hands. “Nothing good will come from going there. Nothing…”

“He is an evil, sick, demented person,” she continues, words struggling to make it through the sobs. “He used to make me clean the baseboards and the grout with my toothbrush and then he’d force me to use it afterwards. If he was in a mood and didn’t like what I made for dinner, he’d throw it on the floor and he’d make me get on my hands and knees and force me to eat it. Like I was a dog! And when I tried to fight back, the beatings just got worse and worse and worse and…”

“That’s enough,” he gently orders, and releases his hold on her hands in favour of drawing her into his embrace. An arm wrapped around her waist and a palm resting on the back of her head; pressing a kiss to her temple and her cheek before drawing her face down to his shoulder. “No more. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t go back to that place.”

One of her hands clutch desperately at the back of his shirt, the other clamping down on the nape of his neck. “How do I ever get over it? How do I ever fully leave all that behind? I thought I was doing okay with it. I thought I was finally putting it all past me. I thought…”

“Sometimes there’s things we don’t really get over. Not completely, anyway. And that was fucking hell; the shit that he put you through. I’m sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Is it weird that sometimes I think about ‘what if’? That I’ll wonder what it would have been like if we’d met some other way? Some other time. Some other place. Before all the bad shit ever happened. Imagine? If we’d met before all of that; if we’d found each other and healed one another sooner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking about that stuff. But babe….listen to me….” He pulls away and cradles her face in his hands; thumbs swiping at the tears that continue to fall “...you can’t live the rest of your life thinking about that. Because if none of the bad ever happened? We wouldn’t have met. Because all the loss and the bullshit put us on the path that led us to each other. And yeah; it was fucking painful and I wanted to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger so many times. But in the end, all that crap? All the hard stuff? It brought you into my life. You know that. I KNOW you know that.”

“What if it was all for nothing? You spent YEARS trying to make up for all his mistakes. You didn’t care how messy I was or how messy my life had been before you. You just picked up the pieces and you put me back together. And you never complained ONCE; You just did it.”

“I did it because I love you. Because I couldn’t exactly go and find the guy and kill him with my bare fucking hands. And believe me, I’ve thought about it many times. About how I’d do it. And how I’d make it as slow and painful as possible.”

“All the time and the work you put into fixing me. What if Mark puts me over the edge and I become a big mess again? What if all of a sudden I’m in a million fucking pieces again? What then? It will all be for nothing?”

“No. It won’t. And you know why? Because even if you fall apart a thousand times, each time I’m going to pick those pieces up and I’m going to find a way to make them up. I love you, Esme. More than I ever loved anyone. More than I even thought was possible. And if it DOES happen...you do fall apart...I’m just going to be here to pick you...and all those pieces….back up.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“Baby, you deserve the fucking world. And I’d give it to you if I could. Come here…” Pressing a kiss to her brow, he tangles his fingers in her hair and draws her head down onto his shoulder; other hand moving in slow, comforting circles in the middle of her back. “...everything’s alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not that I’m scared. Not of him getting a hold of me. I know that you’d never let him get that close. You’d do anything to protect me. I’ve never...ever...doubted that. I just hate what it’s doing to me; him being back in my life. I feel like I’m drowning in all this stuff from the past and that there’s no way you’ll be able to pull me out of it. Like it’s going to suck me under and you won’t stand a chance of getting me back.”

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t LET that happen.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,,” she admits. “Worrying all the time about the baby and trying so hard to take care of the other kids and now this crap with Mark and him being so close to us.”

“I know it’s really overwhelming right now, Me. I know it’s a lot of things being heaped on your plate. And believe me, I am taking as much of it off as I can. And this stress with Mark is just making everything else seem even worse. But I got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

“You got lots of help with the kids. You got me, you got Stel, Riley’s always willing to drop everything and lend a hand. And you know how much grandpa Koen loves to spend time with them. He’s always ready, willing, and able to step up.”

Managing a laugh, she pulls back and swipes at her tears with the back of her hands. “He was in fine form last night, huh?”

“He was definitely on top of his ‘shit talk Tyler’ game.”

“Everything he says, he says with love. He’s a wreck, you know. When he showed up in Dhaka. He was all laughs and jokes at first and I’m sure that was just to calm his nerves, because when he got to your room? He just lost it. Totally broke down. I’ve never seen him get that emotional since.”

“I guess he’s got a little bit of a soft spot for me. Considering I was an enormous shit head when I first met him and he threatened to beat the attitude out of me. And believe me; he tried a couple times. Tough love, yeah? He’s the guy that turned me into the solider I became. And tried to stop me from destroying myself after everything fell apart. Spent years trying to talk some sense into me. Never stuck.”

“Guess you just weren’t ready for that yet. You just had a bit more of your journey to take. I’m sorry it was as crappy as it was. That you had to go through what you did.”

“Lost my kid and my sobriety. And probably most of my sanity.”

“It’s not fair. That you had to go through so much. Starting right from you were a little boy. Not a single step of your path has been easy.”

“No. I guess it hasn’t. But every one of those steps was worth it. ‘Cause look where I am now. I’m a long way from The Kimberley.”

“Leaps and bounds,” she smiles. “Even in the last five years.”

“It was worth it. It was ALL worth it. And this? Whatever the hell THIS is? With Mark? That’s just another bump in the road we gotta get past. I just need you to trust me. That’s it.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Tyler. Always.”

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he promises, and once more gathers her into a tight, protective embrace. “I didn’t lose you in New York and I’m sure as hell not gonna lose you now. Especially not to him.”

The scrape of the screen door opening upon its track captures his attention, and he glances up in time to see his oldest son step onto the porch. Hair mussed from sleep and sticking up in several different directions; barefoot and clad in only a pair of blue, red, and white plaid pyjama bottoms. And it’s the first time that he’s noticed just how grown up that his namesake is becoming; only ten, but tall and athletically built with well chiselled ab muscles and noticeable definition in his arms and shoulders. All long limbs and torso and tanned skin; brilliant, expressive blue eyes and his once shoulder length dirty blond hair now chopped short. Despite his issues with impulse control, his diagnosis with ADHD, and his volatile temper, he always seems much older and wiser than his actual age; independent and detail and routine oriented and always willing to step up and lend a hand with his younger siblings or with chores and repairs around the house. And it’s bitter sweet; his first son after losing Austin growing up in what seems like the blink of an eye. Proud of him for the person...the man...that he’s becoming but missing the little boy he was; the one who’d be attached to his hip and who explored the world with wide eyed, breathless abandon and wanted nothing more than to exactly like his old man.

“Dad?” Worry tarnishes the ten year old’s voice; eyes darkening and narrowing as he observes the sight in front of him. “What’s going on? What…?”

“Nothing, mate. Your mum and I were just having a chat. She just got a little...worked up.”

“About what?” He finally approaches, a hand on the back of his mother’s chair as he leans in to check on her. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Just some adult stuff. Your mum’s just a little emotional today.”

“Mummy?” TJ lays a palm on her shoulder, gently squeezing and then pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you okay? What happened? What..?”

“I’m alright,” Esme assures him, and turns her face into his, pecking his lips. “Daddy and I were just talking and…”

“You don’t look alright. You’re crying. Why are you crying?” A mixture of panic, worry, and the beginnings of anger creep into his voice. And he fixes his father with a steely glare. “What’s wrong with mum? Why is she crying? What were you talking about that would upset her?”

“Just a couple serious things,” Tyler informs him. “ADULT things. Things you don’t need to worry about.”

TJ’s jaw clenches. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. Why would you…?”

“Daddy didn’t do a thing,” Esme assures him. “Like he said we were having a chat and things turned a little serious and I got emotional. That’s it. He didn’t do anything or say anything wrong. I got upset and I started to cry and he was just trying to comfort me. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause if something else happened…”

Turning sideways in her chair, she clasps her son’s face in her hand. “Tyler James. Listen to what I’m saying. Daddy did nothing wrong. I started crying and he got worried and he was trying to calm me down. He didn’t say or do anything. He was trying to help. He wanted to cheer me up. That’s all.”

“Mummy…”

“That’s all,” she insists. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but we’re telling the truth. I just got emotional about some things we were talking about. That’s all. Daddy would never...EVER...do anything to make me cry. Unless it’s happy tears.”

TJ sighs heavily. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. But thank you.,” she presses a kiss to his lips and smooths a hand over his unruly hair. “I’m okay, baby man. There is nothing for you to worry about, okay? And good morning, by the way. Thought for sure you’d sleep in a lot longer; all the running around you did after the littlest yesterday.”

“Dad said we could go surfing. Before everyone else got up. I set my alarm.”

“Well the water looks perfect today. Or as you would say, the waves looking ‘bitchin’.”

Excitement replaces worry and simmering anger. “Dad checked the surf report last night. They said it was going to be perfect conditions. And that it could just be us. I like when it’s just us. It’s a lot more fun. And we sit on our boards and talk. A lot.”

“Then I’ll let you guys get to it. I’m sure you have a lot of boy stuff to talk about.”

Tyler pushes himself to his feet as his wife slips out of her chair; hand on the small of her back as she stands. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she assures him, standing on her tiptoes to return his kiss. “I’ll take the dirty stuff in and I’ll grab some towels and throw them out here for you guys. And maybe I’ll even crash on the couch; until the rest of the hoodlums wake up.”

“If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

“I’ll be fine, Tae. Everything will be fine.”

Nodding in agreement, he offers a small smile and presses his lips to her temple. Watching as she gathers the dirty dishes, mugs, and cutlery and carries them into the house. TJ gallantly holding the door open for her; a broad, beaming smile spreading across his face as she plants a kiss on his cheek.

“IS mum okay?” The ten year old turns to him once Esme is out of ear shot.

“She’s fine, mate. She’s just going through some stuff.”

“Bad stuff or…?”

“Just some stuff. Nothing you need to worry about. You’re mum’s alright. And you know I’d never hurt her, yeah? That I would never...ever...say or do anything to break her heart. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. But you used to. Do stuff like that. I know I was just little then, but…”

“I’m not that guy anymore, TJ. I haven’t been him in a long time. I would never hurt your mother. I love her in ways you can’t even begin to understand. And I would do anything to make her happy and to keep her safe.”

“Is there a reason to? Keep her safe?”

“No,” Tyler lies. “There’s not.”

*****

From the moment he first held Austin in his arms, Tyler had pictured these moments; introducing his son to surfing and forming a tremendous bond over their shared love of the water. Teaching him how to not only handle the waves, but to give himself over to the release and the escape that comes not with conquering them, but being submissive to them; gliding smoothly and confidently yet remembering that nature always has the upper hand and should never be questioned or underestimated. When he had first found out he was going to be a father, he’d often daydream about sharing his passions with his offspring; surfing, fishing, hiking, and camping trips. But military life had been all consuming, as had been his commitment to it; putting fighting the battles of others higher on his list of priorities than his wife and soon to be born child. And having the baby home hadn’t changed a damn thing; signing up for extra tours whenever he got the chance, putting his be all and end all into the army and having nothing left to give his family.

For his fifth birthday, he’d gifted Austin with two things; a custom made surfboard and the promise that he’d change his ways and become the dad that his kiddo needed and deserved. Neither of things ever came to fruition; Austin diagnosed with cancer just three weeks later and the board going unused and Tyler’s promise dying the moment the news had been dropped into their laps. And when Austin had died, so had all of the dreams and the hopes that Tyler had had as father; the loss tremendous and robbing him of both his heart and soul. The grief composed of many things. Not just the loss of his boy, but of all of those expectations, and fantasized moments, and the memories that would have been made during them.

He never dreamed that he’d ever be a father again; his marriage and his military career both disintegrating and finding him throwing himself headlong into mercenary life and a battle with booze and drug addiction. Wracked with so much guilt, regret, and profound grief that he truly believed he deserved his self imposed exile from the rest of humanity. He was a monster and not deserving of any form of a normal life; taking the most dire and dangerous of jobs in hopes one would kill him, drinking and popping pills in hopes of not just numbing the physical pain, but the mental anguish as well.

In the blink of an eye and in the midst of his deepest and darkest moments of suicidal ideation, everything changed. In the form of a tiny, tattooed and pierced brunette with the most beautiful smile and dark eyes he’d ever seen. Since then, every blessing has come with great sacrifice. Ones that he’s willing to pay over, and over, and over again for even a slice of the life that he has now. It’s a normalcy that isn’t normally rewarded to guys like him; a wife and children and a beautiful home in an even more beautiful place. So many bridges burned and toes trampled upon; exuberant coin in your pocket in exchange for scars that litter your body and enemies within all four corners of the world. It’s generally a short existence; catching a bullet in the midst of all the action or a bodyguard or a mercenary -contracted to take you out- catching you by surprise. Most never even attempt any form of domesticity; preferring the company of random women -or men- instead of committing and settling down. The job follows you. Stays with you. Remains embedded in your soul. Accompanied by long lists of evil people you’ve crossed and will forever seek revenge, debts that you can never repay and will forever be held over your head, and addiction and mental health issues. You’re never fully away from it; it will follow you wherever you go, keep you up at night, have you constantly looking over your shoulder or being wary of the smallest of bumps in the night. It’s easier to not get someone else tangled up in the madness; half the time it’s hard just to keep yourself alive, let alone a spouse and children. They’d be the first to pay the price for your misdeeds, and bringing them into that kind of world would be considered not just risky, but selfish as fuck.

Sometimes he still sees himself that way; a weakened, pathetic version of himself that opted to put targets on the backs of others instead of just dealing with his issues and his loneliness in a healthier, SOLO way. But love had found him. Somehow. In the midst of all the darkness and ruin and decay of his life, something...someone... so beautiful and bright had stumbled into his path. She’d effortlessly and easily saw past the hardened and fearless facade he’d created through an endless cycle of self loathing, sorrow, and regret; slowly chipping away at the walls he’d built around the remains of his heart and making him feel alive again. Opening his eyes to a different future and sparking a longing and a desperation and a hunger that he had felt to his very soul. Wanting her...ALL of her...in a way he’d never wanted anyone else. Trusting her in a way he hadn’t since the death of his mother; finding himself both soothed and ignited by the compassion in her voice, the kindness in her eyes, and the gentleness of her hands whenever she touched him.

His heart had been hers long before he’d ever gotten the nerve to tell her so. And he’d been both terrified and filled with hope when he’d even dare to think about a life...a future...with her. He has always felt that his time with her has been far more than he deserves; that kind of existence reserved for those who are morally stronger AND superior. But for some reason, fate had smiled upon him; giving a woman that so plainly wears her heart upon her sleeve and remains stalwartly devoted and faithful. Bearing him seven...eventually eight...children and building a home and a life beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

He’d spent the better part of an hour feeling tremendously grateful and unabashedly proud as he’d watched part of that life so confidently handling the waves below and around him. Ten years old but sometimes so wise and mature beyond his years; misunderstood by so many and not given the credit or the attention that he so rightfully deserves. A fearless, tough kid with an enormous heart; so much love caught up inside him that he’s sometimes unable to express or even cope with it. Exploring the world and the elements with near reckless abandon; always looking for adventure and forever staring challenge straight in the eye. And it’s bittersweet; the act of making the memories with THIS son that his mind had created with for the boy he’d lost years before.

“What do you think it feels like?” TJ asks, as they sit side by side. A hundred yards from shore where the water is calmer; perched upon their boards with their legs dangling over the sides. “To get bit by a shark.”

Tyler glances over; noticing small inklings of his wife inside the ten year old. The way his namesake tilts his head to the side and his eyes narrow as he contemplates a question. The smooth bridge of the nose and the shape of his jaw. But he’s definitely a ‘chip off the old block’; the brilliant blue eyes and the broad shoulders and the long, lanky body, the cheeky smirk and the smile that brightens his entire face. And there’s more. So much more. A strikingly similar personality; dry witted and quick with the sarcasm and the smart ass comments. And the temper; volatile and unpredictable, always seeming as if it’s on a permanent, slow boil.

“I don’t know, mate. But I can guarantee that it does NOT feel good.”

“Mick Fanning...the surfer that mum likes...he got attacked by one. During a competition. A great white. Hit him right in the face with its tail! Can you imagine? I would have been shitting bricks for sure! It would be kind of cool to see one, though. We’ve only ever seen a couple of dorsals in the water. When we’ve been hanging out on the beach. Kinda weird we’ve NEVER come across one.”

“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you. I’ve spotted a few in my time. Long before you were even a twinkle in your mumma’s eyes. Wasn’t close enough to go one on one with ‘em. Thank Christ.”

“Sometimes I get this really weird feeling in my stomach. When we’re out here. It’s like something is just moving around in there; kicking at your insides and tugging at them and stuff. Like my body is telling me that there’s something underneath me. Maybe even WATCHING me. You ever get something like that? Where you just KNOW something is there?”

“Had that happen a lot. Always been too chicken shit to look down, though.”

“I like that, you know. That you’re not afraid to admit you’re scared of things. Lots of guys are. They act all big and bad and like nothing bothers them, but you know it’s all bullshit. You’ve never been like that. Even since I was little. You’ve always talked about being scared of things and how it’s okay to be afraid of stuff. And that we shouldn’t be embarrassed to get emotional. Cry and stuff. Do you still feel that way?”

“I do. I feel even stronger about it now. Nothing wrong with a guy being vulnerable. Doesn’t make them weak or pathetic or less of a man.”

TJ grins over at him. “Just makes them human.”

“You know, you sound a hell of a lot like your mum sometimes.”

“That’s a good thing, if you ask me. ‘Cause mum’s pretty awesome.”

“Yeah…” Tyler smiles wistfully, then glances towards the shore; his wife up from her nap and getting the littles settled for breakfast on the deck as the older kid’s lend a hand. “...she certainly is.”

TJ’s expression turns serious. “You meant it, right? When you said you didn’t say or do anything to make mum cry.”

“Everything we both told you was the truth; we were talking about some adult stuff and she got emotional. All I was trying to do was comfort her. That’s it. You know how your mum can be; when she’s feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t been sleeping well and she tries to take too much on.”

“She needs to learn how to rely on other people . And ask for help when she needs it.”

“It’s hard for her. Even after all the years she’s been with me. She finds it difficult to ask for help. Guess she’s so used to people letting her down, that she just can’t shake that part of her. We’ll just keep an eye on her and just chip in where we need to and hope for the best, yeah?”

TJ nods, then gives a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, dad. For kinda flipping out on you earlier. But I saw you kneeling in front of mummy and then I could tell she was crying and my brain just immediately went to think you’d done something wrong.”

“We’re a lot like, you and I. In a lot of ways. I tend to react a little too quickly, a little too soon. Old habits die hard. But I would never…EVER...hurt your mum. That is the last thing I want to do. Intentional or not. I love her, mate. In ways you can’t even understand. In ways I can’t even understand sometimes. I just hope that one day you get to feel that way about someone. Or close to it.”

“I just worry about her,” TJ sighs. “I don’t like when she’s upset. Especially when she cries. I hate seeing it; mummy sad. I wish I could find a way so she’d never be sad EVER again. Wouldn’t that be nice? If we could find a way to make sure mummy NEVER got sad again?”

“Yeah, mate. It would. But life isn’t like that. We gotta go through the good AND the bad. Unfortunately.”

“Mum’s been through a lot. I mean, I know you have too. But mum...I don’t know...she’s different. She’s...well...she’s my mum. I know you’re tough and strong and brave and all that. That you can handle things better. But mum puts on a good show for people I think. She lets on that she’s okay and she’s totally fine with taking care of everything one else. But sometimes? Sometimes I don’t think she’s okay at all. Do you ever think that? That she’s just pretending to be alright?”

“I don’t just don’t think. I know she’s doing it. And believe me, I’ve tried to get her out of it. But your mum…”

“And she has the nerve to call US stubborn? She is way worse.”

“She’s got a hard head,” Tyler agrees. “And in some ways, it’s a good thing. She never gave up on me. Even when everyone around her was telling her she should. She just ignored them. Had my back no matter what other people said.”

“It’s ‘cause she loves you. And you’re the first person to ever really love her. Other than her dad and he died when she was young, so ....” TJ rakes a hand through his wet hair. “...sometimes it must feel like it’s just you and mum against the world, huh?”

“I’ve felt that way. A few times. But then all you guys started coming along and our team got even bigger. I like to think we ALL have each other’s backs.”

“Of course we do. We’re family. We’re all in this together. And we’re Rakes. Means we’re tough and we don’t back down. From anyone or anything. We might be scared, but we’re still standing up for what’s right. That’s what you taught us. That even though we might be afraid, we gotta do the right thing. Always. A man isn’t measured by the things he has, but by the people he’s helped.”

Tyler grins. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it in a book at school. One of the grade eight kids left on the playground and I was bored and I found it and I just started reading it. I guess I liked that line for some reason. It stuck in my head. Even if there isn't much else up there.”

“Don’t you do that,” Tyler gently scolds. “I don’t want to EVER hear you do that. Talk shit about yourself.”

TJ frowns. “It’s kinda hard when everyone around you is doing it.”

“At school?”

He nods. “I’m the dumb, crazy kid. That’s what everyone thinks. Especially the teachers.”

“They ever say that to you?”

“Not to my face. But I walked by the staff room once and they were talking about that ‘Rake kid’. About how he’ll probably end up in juvenile detention by the time he’s thirteen. And in and out of jail when he’s older. You can’t tell me that it was about Takota or Declan. I might be stupid, but I’m not THAT stupid.”

“You’re not stupid at all. And I don’t want you ever calling yourself that again. You just need some help. Find different ways to learn. Not everyone learns the same way. I was like you in school; couldn’t focus, got ignored when I asked for help, that turned into me goofing off or getting frustrated. Lots of times I put a fist into a locker or a wall. A LOT.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to college? Like mum? Is that why you went into the military?”

“I suppose that’s part of it. Guess I liked the danger and adventure of it too. Going off and fighting bad guys and getting to shoot guns and all of that shit. Never thought about actually having to kill people and what that would feel like.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Not good, mate. Not good at all.”

“Even if it’s bad people? Like that Nathan that hurt you?”

“People like him are exceptions. But for the most part? I don’t like doing it. Not even if it’s in the course of helping someone else. But sometimes…”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” his son finishes for him. “Sometimes it’s you or them, right?”

“Exactly. And don’t worry about school, alright? I’ll give them a call. Ask for a meeting. Get things sorted and get you the help you need. And deserve.”

“Man…” TJ grins. “...they are going to shit their pants when they hear from you.”

Tyler reaches out to ruffle his namesake’s hair. “Maybe. Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Wanna head in? See what mum’s cooking up?”

“I don’t know." The ten year old's nose crinkles in disgust. "Do you think it’ll be edible?”

“Is it ever?”

TJ laughs. “Dad…”

“Whatever you do, do NOT tell her I said that.”

“Don’t worry…” Leaning across his board, the ten year old wraps both arms around one of Tyler’s; squeezing tightly and laying his head against his dad’s shoulder. “...your secret’s safe with me.”

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