#yeah he’d be disgusted to hell and back once he finds out they’re fucking but other than that

[noasmirrorball]

I’m thinking about james having a breakdown in front of sirius not only because he’s in love with a boy, but because he’s in love with his brother. He’s sobbing in his lap like the world is about to explode, like he’s a criminal not even worth looking at. And once he tells sirius about it, he simply tells him it’s okay. He holds him and tells him it’s okay

[theladycarpathia]

Too soft for all of it

Harringroveweek prompt:  apocalypse one night stand

“This is just a one off, do you hear me, Harrington?” Billy says, tugging off his shirt. Steve hungrily tracks every inch of bare skin with his eyes. End of the world hookups can be lethal, filthy and downright disgusting, depending on who you do it with. And Hargrove may be an ass but he’s got form. A really, really nice one.

“I hear you,” Steve says, not really listening. Because he knows something that Billy doesn’t and it’s this - that once they’ve given into this constant, burning heat between them, they won’t be able to stop it from happening again. 

And Steve sure as hell doesn’t want to stop it. He’s probably fucking up by breaking the number one rule of apocalypse hook ups (aside from always use condoms and don’t have sex outdoors) and he’s breaking it hard. Don’t fool around with someone who can break your heart.

“Yeah, you’ve got that ‘I’m really taking it all in’ look,” Billy snorts. He begins unbuttoning his jeans, watching Steve’s slack jaw with pleasure. “Does Princess Nancy know that’s the look you get when she starts talking?” 

Okay, Steve really doesn’t want any images of Nancy right now. He drags his eyes up to Billy’s, pretending that he can’t hear the teeth of a zipper being dragged down. 

“Well, her battle strategy meetings are long,” Steve says defensively. Billy shrugs and lets his hands fall away, leaving just a glimpse of his boxers from behind the denim. Steve scowls.

“You’re still dressed,” Billy points out cheekily, tugging at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. “Thought you might want to catch up.” Steve grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it over his head. It’s worth it to see Billy’s eyes go dark.

“Not bad, Harrington,” Billy says in a low voice and Steve reaches a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down. Billy’s bare flesh on his is like every dream come true and Steve slides his hand into the back of Billy’s jean pocket, desperate to pull Billy’s straining erection against his own. When their bodies align, Steve can’t help his moan into Billy’s mouth. If he’s not careful, he’ll come just like this.

“So, ‘fess up,” Billy says, pressing his mouth against Steve’s bare throat. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Who says I have?” Steve retorts, although any bravado is lost in a helpless pant as Billy drags his teeth along the delicate curve of Steve’s neck. 

“I think you have,” Billy purrs and Steve wonders if Billy can hear the furious pounding of Steve’s heart. Maybe he can feel it when they’re pressed so tightly together.

But Billy will have to earn any admission from Steve. He’s not that pathetic.

Oh, but he knows he is. He’s weak with love, has been ever since the day that Billy and his group of survivors arrived at their camp. Hopper had been a little less than thrilled initially with the van of assorted teens from California. He’d been a little more thrilled with Joyce Byers arriving with them though. 

Their camp is pretty small, walls surrounding what had been the small cul-de-sac built out of whatever they could find. Chicken wire, old bits of fencing, metal sheeting. They’d closed everything off and shut down the road. No one got in or out.

And for a while things had been rough. They didn’t quite know what they do now about infection, supplies, and how to travel safely. They lost a few along the way, but they learned. 

What they did learn was not to trust strangers. Strangers could be infected, they can lie, they can shoot you in the back over your supplies if they want to. Benny had learnt that one the hard way and he’d been a good man. They hadn’t even been able to bury him. 

So when a convoy was spotted a few streets over, tensions had been high. People don’t come into Hawkins, not when it’s too small to be of any use. The woods and farms surrounding the more urban areas are prime space for the undead. No one risks coming through that if they don’t have to.

But this group had. Joyce Byers had been born here, actually went to school with Hopper way back when. Hopper had nearly been ready to turn them all away until he’d seen her. Apparently she’d left her scumbag ex when her kids were young and never looked back. And while they were in California, they picked up a few extras. Alone with so many kids, Joyce had taken the risk to return to where she knew.

Billy had pulled himself out of the driving seat, cigarette tucked behind his ear, gun strapped against his leg and Steve had been ruined right then and there. 

And now finally, six months later, Billy had finally noticed. Or maybe he’d finally stopped pretending he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re a little obvious about it,” Billy says, sitting back on his haunches to work at Steve’s jeans, his long, clever fingers easily undoing the assorted buttons. Steve flushes. Fuck. Robin’s been telling him for weeks that he’s too open about how he stares at Billy. People occasionally make the odd comment about Murray and Alexei spending too much time together but this isn’t high school. The normal rules seem to go out of the window when every day is about just surviving.

Even so, Robin had warned him about people talking. It couldn’t lead to anything good, in a community this small. 

“It’s alright,” Billy says, and the press of his palm against Steve’s dick is enough to set his skin on fire. “I liked it.”

Steve jerks his head up, half expecting Billy to be giving him that annoying grin, the one that’s full of cockiness and teeth. But instead, Billy’s eyes are soft and a little hopeful. 

“In fact,” Billy continues, shifting so he can pull Steve’s jeans down his legs and tug them right off. Steve’s still in his boxers, but he’s never felt more vulnerable. There’s something about the warm tilt of Billy’s mouth, the way he’s looking at Steve from under his eyelashes. Billy had swaggered up this evening, like he owned the place, like all he had to do was snap his fingers and have Steve fall into his bed. Now Steve wonders how much of that was just for show, because this Billy is one he’s never seen.

Steve’s possibly not the only one who’s been looking. 

“I like it a lot,” Billy continues, shimmying out of his own jeans. He kicks them aside and crawls back up Steve’s body, curling his fingers into Steve’s hair like they belong there.

“Ass,” Steve mutters, even as he tries to roll his hips against Billy’s. Billy just grins. There’s an attractive flush to his skin, a haze over his eyes. Steve kind of wants to see that look on Billy’s face tomorrow morning too.

“It’s a great ass,” Billy says helpfully. “I don’t blame you for looking.”

“I wasn’t looking that much,” Steve grumbles, annoyed at being caught out. It’s a risk caring about someone but people seem to manage it. Steve thinks about how very human it is to find love in a world of blood and teeth and death. Hopper and Joyce. Murray and Alexei. Nancy and Jonathan. 

“Sure, pervert,” Billy rumbles, mouth trailing against Steve’s bare skin. For someone who insisted that this was just fucking, just something to take the edge off, he’s being too soft. He’s treating Steve like glass and it’s something Steve could all too easily get addicted to.

“Just this once, huh?” Steve says, glad that he’s this close to Billy’s bright blue eyes. He can count every lash, see the pale scar across his right eyebrow. He’s still not sure how Billy got it - the story changes every time. Somehow, Steve doubts that Billy got it in a one-on-one tussle with a zombie.

There’s a flicker in Billy’s eyes, ever so briefly uncertain. Like he’s taking Steve’s words at face value. Steve slides his hands around the curve of Billy’s back, feeling along every nub of his spine. Waiting. Hoping.

“Yeah,” Billy breathes finally, sliding his fingers beneath Steve’s waistband. Steve decides then and there that he doesn’t mind this strange mutual lie they have going so long as Billy’s fingers are just rubbing against his hip bones like that. It feels like a long night of aching muscles and sweat along his spine and bruises sucked into his collarbone ahead of them. “Yeah, just this once.”

[meles-merrivale]

April 5: Hate

Got a bit long, but there's always tomorrow!

written for @hinnymicrofic

It’s in the fucking walls. Not all the time. Well, not anymore, at least. But it’s still there, that fucking hissing. In the dim haze of empty hallways as she makes her way down to the pitch for early morning practice, slithering under the laughter in the great hall, stopping her dead when she takes a wrong turn on the second floor. 

It’s in her head. He’s still in her head.

She wants to be someone who laughs with Katie on the walk to the Room of Requirement because she's funny and not to drown out the memory in the walls. A girl whose hexes are powered by skill and talent instead of rage. But she's not. She's inkstained and angry. She flings herself into hexes and curses, gives a flourishing bow when the others cheer as she blasts the room apart, and when they start to trickle out for the night she keeps going. When she leaves she'll have to stop fighting. When she leaves she’s the same small girl in the same hallways, and he’s still out there. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, and a hand closes around her wrist. It’s warm, and familiar enough not to startle her. She’s not sure when Harry’s touch became familiar. “Might be time to give it a rest, no?” 

No, the twisting thing inside her snarls. The thing that shares classes with friends she almost killed, that never wants to sleep or eat or rest until Tom Riddle is burning in hell.

She takes a deep breath. Waits for the dust to settle from her last curse. 

“Probably,” she says, dropping her head back to grin up at Harry. He’d gotten a good bit taller than her over the summer. She’s decided it’s annoying and not a bit handsome. 

“Good, cause it’s almost curfew,” he says, dropping her hand and heading towards the singed dummy she’d been mauling. It’s only now that she realizes the rest of the room’s already cleaned up. Maybe she had been going a little overboard. 

“What’s this? The legendary Harry Potter, afraid of a little rule breaking?”  

“Absolutely terrified.” 

That gets a laugh out of her and a bit more gentle banter before they subside into companionable silence, packing away the last of the D.A. supplies. Quiet isn’t Ginny’s natural state, but she’s been surprised to find with Harry it’s rather nice. Safe harbor is the term that comes to mind, but that seems a bit melodramatic to think about a boy who, at the end of the day, is just her brother’s best friend. 

They’re set to start the long slog back up to Gryffindor Tower when Harry pauses, one hand on the Room door. “Listen, Ginny…” 

“Hm?” she prompts when nothing follows. 

“Look, you don’t need to say anything. But, um, are you okay? Cause you’ve seemed…tense. Tonight, and in general.” 

She opens her mouth to say I’m fine on reflex, then bites her tongue to give herself a second. When was the last time someone really asked if she was okay? Not this year. Probably not last, either. 

Looking into those bright green eyes, his brow furrowed slightly like she’s a particularly difficult star chart he’s trying to uncode, she’s pretty sure Harry is really asking. 

“Not really,” she says.

She’s not expecting it, the way it feels like exhaling. Like a rubber band she didn’t know she’d been stretching all year has finally eased. 

Harry doesn’t ask any follow up, just lets the air resettle around them. When it does, she finds it’s left space for more words to fill it. 

“I just…You-Know-Who’s back. And I’m so fucking angry. I hate him. I hate him, and he deserves it, but…” she takes a deep breath. “But I don’t think I like who hating makes me.” Harry's been a bit of a prat too, lately. She wonders if he'll get what she means.  

He blinks once, and there’s a flicker of what might be surprise in his eyes. But no confusion, or disappointment, or disgust. So that’s fine. She doesn’t mind surprising him. 

Harry sags slightly against the door, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Fucking sucks, right?”

Ginny snorts. It might be a bit on the wet, gross side of acceptable, but this doesn’t seem like the time or place to care. “That’s all you’ve got to offer?”

“That’s all I’ve got.” he says with a rueful smile. Which, she’s not sure what she really should’ve expected from a fifteen year old boy. But it is kind of nice, actually. Knowing this is all hard for someone else, too. 

Harry leans closer, sliding sideways across the polished wood of the door until his shoulder presses against hers. “Listen, Gin. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, or what it’s like living with, you know, everything. But, from where I’m standing, you’ve turned out pretty great.” 

That’s not quite right. Because he’s probably the one person who does get, you know, everything. Of course, that’s why she doesn’t have to say it. 

“You’re pretty alright, too.”

[randomfandomwrites]

Missing Part 2 (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

*not my gif*

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Billy helps find you in the Upside Down (I think I made it gn reader, but honey is used as a nickname)

Warning: Kidnapping, angst, cursing, kind of anxiety?

Word Count: 2,410

A/N: Sorry I’ve been kind of slow on writing, school’s starting soon and I have a lot of stuff going on. Leave it to school to make me not want to do the things I actually like :/

~

Billy covered his face with his hands again, rubbing his eyes. He exhaled loudly before looking up. “Shit, that’s all true? That all happened... here? And- and that’s why Max and (y/n) were at the house with Steve and why Max was being so weird and- oh my God,” Billy rambled.

“Yeah, and now (y/n)’s there and we have to help them,” Hopper said.

“Damn right we do! Why are we just sitting here doing nothing while they’re fucking dying? Didn’t you say the air is toxic or some shit? We have to help!” Billy shouted, standing up abruptly.

“And we will, but you can’t go. Leave this to the adults; we’ve done this before,” Hopper replied, just as loud.

“I’m going and you can’t fucking stop me! (Y/n) has been a part of my life since I moved to this shithole town and I’m not about to start living without them! I’m almost an adult and I sure as hell know how to take care of myself. So fuck you if you try to stop me, because I love (y/n) and without them I would fucking die in this goddamn place!” Billy screamed, sitting back down.

“I can’t-” Hopper started.

“Jim...” Joyce whispered. Hopper looked at her and sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Fine. On one condition. Anything, and I mean anything, starts to go wrong, you run. You get out of there and don’t look back. Now is not the time to be a hero, alright? We go in, we get (y/n) we go right back out. No brave or  daring acts, kid. You run. Got it?” Hopper explained sternly. Billy nodded.

“Yes, sir,” Billy said seriously. Hopper stared (glared?) at him for another second before nodding once. 

“Okay then. Let’s go. Joyce, you know where the gate is?” Hopper asked, turning to her. 

“Yeah, the kids told me. It’s a half hour from here, if we hurry,” she replied. 

“Alright. Come on.”

~

Billy jumped out of the police car, slamming the door and running to the gaping hole in the ground.

“I’m assuming that... that’s it?” Billy asked.

“Yep,” Hopper muttered with disgust. “Ladies first,” he grumbled, gesturing to the gate. Joyce scoffed and slowly stepped inside before disappearing in the slimy opening. Billy followed her, Hopper right behind him. 

“Whoa,” Billy grunted, landing roughly. He stood up and looked around. The pulsing gap that connected his world and this was about seven feet above him. But he had fallen down? What the hell is this place? 

The darkness was the first thing he noticed. It seemed to consume everything, and things that should have been bright and shiny were dull and dreary. There was no light here, except for the occasional lightning flashes in the sky, illuminating the ominous terrain for moments before allowing the gloomy shadows to take control again. 

The next thing he noticed was the temperature. A bitter coolness seemed to hang in the air, an icy sensation that sent a shiver down his spine. It felt as if cold fingers were tracing over him, pulling him and sending piercing ice to the depths of his heart. It was so, so cold.  He hated it here already and he’d barely taken a step. 

The last thing he noticed before Hopper pulled him ahead was the silence. There was no ambience here. Aside from the occasional squelching of wet vines and the faint, intermittent rustling of things he’d rather not see, this other world was silent. Billy could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” Hopper muttered, walking forward. Joyce followed him. 

“Down here, we don’t have day at all,” Billy responded. Hopper shot him a cold glare, though not as cold as the biting atmosphere that seemed to suffocate them. Billy rolled his eyes and trailed behind the adults. “Where are we going, anyway?” He asked. 

“Well, when Will was down here-” 

“Who’s Will?” Billy cut Hop off. 

“He’s my son, and he was stuck down here for a while. We got him out, and he’s okay now. But he was at our house a lot, so we’re going to (y/n)’s house to see if they’re hiding there. Seems like they would take any comfort they could get down here, and I don’t blame them. I would come home too,” Joyce mused. Billy stopped in his tracks.

“Well if they want comfort, (y/n) wouldn’t go to their house,” Billy commented. Joyce and Hopper turned around. “Yeah, they don’t like it there any more than I like my house,” Billy continued.

“What the hell do you mean?” Hopper asked.

“I’m just saying, if (y/n) wanted somewhere they felt safe, they wouldn’t pick their house, that’s all,” Billy said defensively. Hopper raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to Billy. 

“Was there anywhere they did like to go? Anywhere that meant something to them?” Hopper asked. Billy shook his head and looked down, thinking. 

“Um...” He stared at the ground, biting his lip. Suddenly he looked straight, then up at Hopper. “Wait, yeah, the theater. We- we go there all the time, and that’s where I asked them out. Um, they told me they go there sometimes to think?” Billy said hopefully. Hopper stared at him for a second. 

“Then I guess we’re going to see a movie. Let’s go.”

~

After what felt like hours, the theater came into view. “Oh my God, there it is. (Y/n)’s there, come on!” Billy shouted, starting to run. Hopper put a hand in front of him to hold him back. “What are you doing?” Billy asked.

“Be quiet, we don’t know if anything is here. These monsters like to hunt, and we might be fun prey if they’re close.”

“Isn’t that just a reason we should hurry? What if those fuckers are in there with  them already? We have to go!” Billy urged. Hopper pushed him backwards.

“And we will, but if we’re dead, then nobody’s coming to help. Got it?” Hopper reprimanded sternly. “Let’s just be cautious. We don’t even know if (y/n)’s in here.” 

A shrill roar pierced the air and the group ducked behind a building. A creature appeared from nowhere, with too-long arms and milky skin. It roared again, shaking the earth. It put its face to the ground and stalked towards them. Billy was practically shaking as it stood up and looked right towards them. He saw Hop reaching towards a broken piece of brick and stood up, keeping his back to the wall. He slowly inched to the opposite edge of the building, throwing it away from them and out of sight. The creature snapped its head back at the sound and dropped to all fours, running down the street away from their hiding place. Billy had to cover his mouth to quiet his panicked breathing.

When all seemed clear again, Billy exhaled. “What the fuck was that?” he gasped.

“That was a demogorgan, and the reason you can’t be screaming to your heart’s content out here,” Hopper responded sternly. After another minute, Hopper slowly stepped out onto the street and looked around. “It’s okay. Let’s keep going. But for (y/n)’s sake, keep your goddamn voice down.”

Billy was getting more and more impatient as the small group approached the building. His heart was racing, and he felt like he would burst if he didn’t get in there right this second and help you. When he reached the door, his patience snapped. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” he called. He sprinted down the hall, pushing open the doors to each movie room and glancing in quickly to see if you were there. Joyce and Hopper ran after him, calling out, but couldn’t keep up. He flung open the second to last door in the hallway and looked over it, moving to run out before his heart stopped for a split second. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the outline of a figure lying on the ground. 

It was you.

Billy’s breath caught in his throat as he froze, staring at you. You were still, your limbs splayed out in a way that seemed unnatural. Snapping out of his daze, he stumbled toward you. 

“Billy!” Joyce shouted, opening the door. Hopper almost ran into her, but they both stopped at the sight of Billy’s slow movements and your motionless body. 

“Oh God, (y/n), no,” Billy whispered. “No, no, no, no, no, no, it can’t be you, it can’t be you.” He fell to the ground, kneeling before your body. He shook you. “C’mon, (y/n) please.” He shook you again. “Please, please, please!” he begged, his voice rising as he choked on his words. 

No response. 

Billy lowered his head and sobbed. This isn’t happening. This is a nightmare. This isn’t happening. He repeated it over and over in his head. But something pulled him out. He felt- no. Was it? Billy looked down at you, the tiniest spark of hope flickering in him. “(Y/n)?” he whispered again. Your hand twitched slightly, almost unnoticeably. But Billy saw it. He could breathe again. He lifted you up in his arms, pulling you close so he could hear your heartbeat. It was there, but it was faint. He looked back at Hopper and Joyce, standing silently in the doorway. “They’re alive!” he shouted. “We have to help, hurry, help me pick them up!” They didn’t waste time running down and pulling you to your feet. 

“(Y/n), I need you to open your eyes for me, okay?” Joyce said. “Can you do that, honey?”

Your eyelids fluttered for a second, and the hope in Billy’s chest grew. “(Y/n)? I’m here, honey. I got you, just please, please open your eyes,” he whispered.

“Billy?” You looked up at him, practically limp in his arms. Your vision was blurry and your voice was almost gone.

“Oh my God, (y/n). Yeah, I’m here. I got you, I’m here,” Billy whispered, tears in his eyes. 

“Water,” you coughed. Joyce fished a flask out of her backpack and brought it to your lips. It was a little stale, but to you, it was heaven. You drank almost half of it before taking a breath. 

“Good, that’s so good, (y/n). Can you walk?” Billy asked.

“I- I don’t know,” you murmured. 

“I’ll help you,” Billy said. He put his arm around you and placed your arm on his shoulders. You knew he was practically carrying you, but it did help you walk. With Billy supporting you, you could limp well enough.

“Okay, now let’s get out of here before anything comes and ruins all of our warm, fuzzy, happy feelings,” Hopper said in a tone that indicated his true meaning which was along the lines of let’s hurry up and leave right the fuck now. He didn’t want to be down here any longer than he had to, and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Everyone else felt the same.

You tripped constantly walking out of the movie theater. You could almost feel yourself ebbing away as you used the last of your energy trying to push yourself towards home. Billy offered to carry you several times, but you declined. You didn’t know why, but you felt guilty about them coming down to save you, and you would’ve felt even guiltier if Billy had to carry you all the way to the gate. Although, the more exhausted you got, the more tempting his offer sounded. He kept glancing over at you, worried, each time asking if you needed help. And each time, you insisted you were fine. You hated yourself for it, and you didn’t know why. Maybe the toxic air got to your head.

It took longer than expected, but finally, finally, they got you to the gate. Now the challenge was getting you up through it. Joyce had rope in her backpack, but you obviously didn’t have the strength to climb up. 

“Um, okay,” Billy started, running a hand through his hair. “Um, how about I go through, and then, um, (y/n) can stand on your shoulders,” he said, gesturing to Hopper, “and then they can go through and I can pull them up on the other side?” 

“They are not standing on my-”

“Hop,” Joyce said sternly. Hopper looked between her and Billy, scoffing, before he looked at you. You were weak and barely standing. His eyes softened. 

“Fine. Just hurry, please,” he relented. Joyce smiled at him and began climbing. Billy went up soon after. Hopper stepped toward you. “You ready, kid?”  Silently, you nodded. He bent down and moved his hands back so you could stand on them if you needed to. The situation was so absurd and the position he was in was so awkward that you laughed slightly. Hopper looked back at you, a small smile on his face. You jumped onto his back like a toddler and positioned yourself so that you were crouching on his shoulders. You felt like a freaky parrot, and the image of a parrot in your shoes was enough to make you laugh again. I must be delirious, you thought. It’s not that funny. Still, you were fighting giggles as you slowly stood up. You were still feeling faint, and you wobbled slightly. The opening was only a few inches above your head, but it felt like a huge gap. You shakily reached toward the edge. The second your finger brushed it, you grabbed onto it like your life depended on it. 

Now that you were steadier, you stood up taller. The top of your head pushed through the slimy layer, and you reached up to where you knew Billy was waiting. A second passed, and then a warm hand grasped yours. You clung onto Billy’s hand as you pushed further through the opening. Adrenaline pumped through you at the sight of your world. You pulled yourself up Billy’s forearms as he lifted you. You fell into Billy’s chest and he hugged you.

“I was so fucking worried, (y/n), I thought... (y/n)? Hey, shit, are you okay?” Billy’s voice was laced with anxiety as you swayed. Your legs gave out and you fell over, Billy almost dropping you.

Billy’s voice yelling your name over and over was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

~

I would’ve had this done in an hour tonight but somebody kept bothering me 😭 I swear I’ll try to be more active and get the requests done. School is starting soon and my mental health is being a bitch, but writing helps me so hopefully that’ll motivate me :) Love you all so much and thank you for reading!!!

Taglist:

@angelbbygrl​

@mikeyswifie

@marvelsbitchh​

Part 3?

[frogtanii]

℗ home

kenma x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 2.9k (ahaha)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, liberal use of italics, soft soft, kenma in denial, allusions to marriage, bokuto and kuroo meddling, drinking, declarations of love, SMUT!!! (is marked off!), sub!kenma, handjob + blowjob, slightly insecure!kenma, meiko mentions, enthusiastic consent, one (1) katamari reference, vocal!kenma, uhh

an. good golly gee i HATE ending the endings m so bad at it AND the smut is lil weirder to skip??? like it’s not impossible or anything but it’s not as smooth as atsumu’s, m rlly sorry :((((( but i rlly hope y’all enjoy hehe don’t forget to feed me shawties :3

the loud obnoxious pop music blasting in the crowded bar around kenma made him want to fling himself into the moon at the nearest opportunity.

okay, so that was a little dramatic but the fact still stood.

he was crammed into a tiny booth with kuroo, bokuto, and akaashi, the former brushing up against him with every little movement, making kenma bristle in discomfort.

why the hell did i agree to this, kenma thought while sipping on his cranberry juice. he’d never enjoyed drinking, his true thoughts and feelings coming out way too easily once intoxicated. it was so infuriating being a lightweight, especially when everyone around him was disgustingly drunk.

“are you having fun kenma?” bokuto half yelled, half slurred into his ear from across the table. kenma slouched further into the booth’s stained cushions in response, his lack of answer not bothering bokuto in the slightest.

with the boisterous man’s attention successfully diverted by akaashi, kenma allowed his eyes to wander out over the dance floor but he wasn’t really paying them any mind. instead, his mind was occupied with none other than you.

it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering all the time he’d been spending with you recently. it had been a few months since the hyper house had disbanded and while you were enjoying your time living with your best friends, they had way too much sex. like an abnormal amount.

it had gotten to the point where you were having to abscond from the apartment four times a week because they were just so loud.

at first you had found refuge in the 24 hour cafe a few blocks from your place but falling asleep at a hard wood table only to have to walk home at 2am alone was terrible for your peace of mind (and your back).

you’d started complaining about it at your weekly animal crossing hang outs with kenma and he’d offered the brilliant solution of you coming over to his place when makki and mattsun were otherwise... occupied.

you were shocked at his suggestion and aptly so. it was no news that kenma absolutely hated hosting and having people over, especially since he was one of the few former members that were able to afford their own place straight out the gate.

when you’d expressed this, all he had said was, you’re different.

that wasn’t enough for you, evidenced by your once again nightly stays at the cafe but when you had to run home because someone was following you, you begrudgingly agreed to kenma’s offer and started sleeping at his house multiple times a week.

it was a bit to get used to at first, seeing you first thing in the morning with messy hair and sleep-swollen eyes. you were beautiful jarring. but, as time passed, he got used to your presence, making your drink of choice and sliding him his tea in the morning, sending him a soft smile that had him running to the bathroom to hide his blush.

it was all... strangely domestic.

even now, the thought of you in your threadbare sleep shirt, standing in his kitchen while cooking breakfast sent a wave of heat across his face, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“what are you thinking about that’s got you so red?” kuroo teased, pulling the glass out of kenma’s hands, laughing at his annoying glare. he hoped he could ignore the question as he so often did, but apparently he wasn’t so lucky.

bokuto cackled in his seat before calling out your name, sending a chill of fear down kenma’s spine. “bet he’s thinkin about her! about how he wants to smooch her and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “i’m just saying!”

the rest of the table let out good natured laughs but kenma was preoccupied with replaying what bokuto had said.

i mean, sure he thought you were pretty, but anyone with eyes would agree! and yeah, maybe spending time with you was the highlight of his week, but it wasn’t his fault you were so genuinely enjoyable to be around. and of course, sometimes when it was late at night, his mind would wander to you and how it would feel to wake up beside you instead of across the hall from you and—

fuck. he liked you. a lot.

then, as if you somehow knew exactly what was on his mind (a terrifying thought to entertain), his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. he pulled it out quickly to check it and he hated how his heart picked up in his chest at the sight of your contact name.

[sussy baka <3]: wya shawty 🤨 u have no food in ur fridge n m hungry seen 13:20

[player ew]: s boys night seen 13:22

[sussy baka <3]: 😐

[sussy baka <3]: are u having fun seen 13:25

[player ew]: ... seen 13:28

[sussy baka <3]: yeah that’s what i thought

[sussy baka <3]: bring home some ramen <3 seen 13:31

home. god, if he didn’t like the sound of that coming from you. it took kenma no time at all to start packing up his things, ignoring the knowing looks on his friends faces as he tossed down a couple of bills for his drink and left to go home, where you were.

after stopping at the convenient store, he headed to his apartment building, shopping bag full of ramen in one hand and heart in the other.

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get bokuto’s annoying voice out of his head, telling him that he liked you. and now that he knew it was true? he was kind of spiraling.

the ding of the elevator managed to somehow shake him out of his thoughts, at least for him to get to his front door, but once it was open, all coherent brain activity immediately dissolved.

you were sitting on his couch in the living room, bundled up in one of his mario blankets and wearing one of his hoodies as you watched some animal documentary raptly, sheer disgust written all over your face.

kenma gulped.

he managed to work up the courage to actually enter his apartment, kicking off his shoes by the door and beelining towards the kitchen, not missing your excited call of his name and wide grin.

biting down any other unchecked feelings, he quickly set to work boiling the water for the ramen and then... stood there. boiling water would take a while and he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he really, really didn’t want to go sit by you with all these emotions sitting right on his chest.

“kenma, they’re gonna eat the seal!” you yelled from the couch, waving him over frantically. how was he supposed to say no to brutal animal murder on tv? kenma chuckled dryly at his own joke as he made his way over to where you sat, plopping himself on the side of the couch furthest away from you.

he told himself he just didn’t want to bug you when he had to go check the water but he knew it was a lie. he was running from his feelings, from anything that could ruin this.

you shot him a concerned look which he caught out of the corner of his eye but he kept his head firmly forward, unwilling to look at you if he didn’t have to. “kenma, what’s wrong? was boys night that bad?” you asked gently, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel worse.

kenma just shook his head, still choosing not to face you. you let out a long, arduous sigh before scooting across the couch and pressing yourself to his side, pulling his head down to rest on your chest while taking one of his hands into your own.

what the fuck. what the fuck?!1!?1!!?1!

you were so soft and warm and your arms around him made him feel things which was exactly what he was trying to avoid but then you actually started to speak and oh shit it got worse.

“kenma,” you started, running your hands through his deep brown locks, “you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

of course he knew that because this was you and you were so kind and considerate and badass and cool and that was all precisely why he couldn’t talk to you about everything, especially when it came to his emperor of the cosmos sized feelings for you.

but, instead of saying any of that, he allowed you to continue, his body relaxing into your hold against his will.

“i bother you because i care about you and i worry, you know. i know you’re strong and you can take care of yourself but i can’t help it...” if kenma was really listening, he would’ve heard the shakiness in your voice, the apprehension in your words but he didn’t. “i can’t help it because i like you, kenma.”

you... what?

kenma pushed himself off of you to look you in the face, to find any sign that you’re pranking him or just being cruel but he couldn’t find any.

still, he couldn’t take you at your word, after all who would like someone like him?

“say it again,” his voice comes just under a whisper, his words stilted and unsure but he needs to know, he needs to believe you. he wants to believe you.

“i like you.” you don’t use any big, flowery words, nor do you try and justify why you like him and still, somehow it’s enough. kenma’s eyes filled with tears as they’re trained on you but your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

staring at his lips.

“can i kiss you?” you asked softly, not pressuring or forceful but like that was truly just on your mind and you had to ask it. kenma wasn’t sure how he was supposed to resist when you asked him like that. “please,” was his response, already breathy and absolutely wrecked.

you obliged.

•••smut begin•••

surging forward, you pressed your mouth to his, soft lips meeting chapped ones as you moved them insistently against his own. kenma let out an embarrassing whine at the contact, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

yours, on the other hand, wandered, tracing over the hills and valleys of his chest and back before landing right under the hem of his hoodie. you pulled back, laughing quietly at the way he so eagerly chased your lips while halting him with a hand to his sternum.

“can i take this off?” kenma nodded enthusiastically before he could stop himself and you let out another soft huff as you busied yourself with getting him naked.

he tried to help you where he could, but he was ultimately resigned to bask in your movements, in your control as you manhandled him out of every article of clothing he was wearing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

immediately, the insecurities took hold of him, his mouth opening to stutter out an apology for how he looked. meiko’s voice played in his ears, reminding him he wasn’t what the girls went for being too skinny, too sensitive, too loud.

kenma moved to pick his clothes back up to cover himself before retreating to his room where he could die of shame but your firm hand kept him where he sat.

“you’re beautiful,” you said, like you were saying the sky was blue or the grass was green — as an irrefutable fact. your brows were furrowed at first but the expression melted away to show a softer one, one full of love, admiration, and... lust.

a high-pitched whimper left his lips at your gaze, his cock throbbing against his thigh. you grinned and moved back in to kiss him, your hand moving to his throat to hold him in place, his adam’s apple bobbing against your palm.

your other, unoccupied, hand traveled down his body to rub over a nipple, his back arching into your touch as his breath hitched against your mouth. you let out a hum of approval, continuing your ministrations of pinching and plucking the hard bud before moving further down to take a hold of his cock.

kenma broke away from you, a choked wail erupting from his chest as he bucked up into your grip. “can i make you feel good? can i show you how beautiful you are?” you asked earnestly, your thumb gently caressing his jaw.

“please, please, please,” he begged. under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed at how easily he’d been folding for you, but it was so much easier to just submit to your capable and willing hands.

“good boy,” you tacked on mindlessly, your blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips only adding to your debauched look. internally, kenma preened at the fact that he was responsible for you looking like that, so feral like you just wanted to eat him up.

which was apparently exactly what you wanted to do, evidenced by you sliding onto your knees in front of him, pressing kisses and sucking marks into his pale thighs.

kenma’s hips stuttered beneath you as he watched you get closer and closer to his throbbing member, the tip already bright red and leaking precum.

suddenly, your eyes shot up to his, pinning him with an intense stare as you slowly, slowly brought him to your mouth, the wet heat enveloping the head before you closed your lips around him and sucked.

holy fucking shit.

his reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips bucked up into your mouth, and a filthy moan escaped from him as you started to get into a nice rhythm sucking his cock.

kenma could barely keep himself quiet, especially when you began toying with his balls, the feeling adding to the coil tightening in his gut.

you pulled all the way off of him before sucking him down the hilt, his mouth opening in a silent scream as you choked around his length, the pleasure that your throat was bringing while you pulsed around him was otherworldly.

he was going to die, he resigned. he was going to die by the biggest orgasm he’d ever had with his penis in your mouth and he was going to love every second of it.

a sharp tap to his inner thigh brought him back down to earth, this bleary eyes trying to focus on your face and once they did, he was taken aback. your eyes held such fondness, such love that he could hardly take it.

kenma couldn’t hold back his thoughts, especially under the intensity of your gaze, his mouth opening to gasp out, “i love you, shit, i love you.”

you pulled off him with a pop but you didn’t stop stroking him, your hand picking up the pace to the point that his thighs were quivering with the strength of his oncoming orgasm.

“say it again,” you threw his words right back at him and if he’d been in his right mind, he might’ve laughed but since he was drowning in pleasure, he immediately followed your orders, groaning out those three words over and over until he was hoarse.

you seemed to enjoy it, so much so that you took the palm of your hand and toyed with the sensitive tip of his cock, sending him right over the edge.

his vision whited out completely as he came with a loud cry of your name, tears trailing from his lashline from the sheer severity of his orgasm, one hand grasped tightly in yours.

•••smut over•••

as kenma came down from his high, he watched you brush his hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his hairline.

“you know, i love you too,” you stated, pulling him up to rest his spent body against your own. he scoffed while playing with your hand, toying with your bare ring finger in a way that you knew was deliberate.

“i figured, you just sucked my dick.” you protested loudly, smacking him gently on the arm when he snickered at your reaction. after your laughter died down, he rested his head back over your heart, listening to the steady beat thrumming beneath his ear.

your hands tangled back into his hair and he felt himself drifting off into dreamland when a loud meow startled him awake again. kyabia (or caviar) stared up at him with unblinking feline eyes, her tail swishing silently against the floor. “oh god, my cat is seeing me naked,” he gasped in horror, your chest heaving against his ear as you cackled.

kyabia quickly got bored and scampered off to who knows where and by that time, kenma was ready to knock back out. you were still laughing though and since you were his human pillow, that just wouldn’t do.

shoving you down on the couch, he buried his head in your chest and muttered a blunt, “sleep,” ignoring the way your giggle made a smile spread across his cheeks.

obviously, you could tell if your own matching grin was anything to go by but you let it be, instead choosing to wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your body, like you were trying to pour all your love into the embrace.

kenma only hoped that you would also “let it be” when you caught him ring shopping on his phone just a few weeks later.

it was only a matter of time. why delay when he loved you and you loved him? he knew he couldn’t wait until he could officially call you his.

after all, kozume yn had a nice ring to it.

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[shurisneakers]

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?” 

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” 

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 

Now that simply wouldn’t do. 

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat. 

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t. 

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 

“You go on missions a lot?” 

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 

Next part

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[dreamiesdotcom]

tw: even the writer doesn't understand what the characters are thinking in this story

[12:53a.m] It had to be fate that Jeno met you at all. He wasn't searching, no, and he believed no such thing as soulmates existed. Forever was not real.

He could see it with the couples of the internet. He could see it in the sparkle in his friend's eyes as their own relationships blossom, and how that spark dies down each and everyday. Could see it in the way his parents shared vows and lived by it and still ended up in divorce.

He could see it in the little things, in the way he swore he'd never get tired of poetry but the saccharine words soon grew sickly sweet on his tongue. Could see it in the way the music he swore to love forever brought a certain feeling of unsatisfying routine; he plays it because he always plays it at this time, 8:30 p.m, right before he starts looking out the empty town he grew up in, not because he wants to.

But when he first saw you, innocent and spring-like and laughing like a deity, blowing bubbles as you run around in circles, soles of your feet being tickled by grass, he thinks he might just not care. Everything in his life so far has proved him that forever was not real. However, these innocent fleeting first love mirage you cast onto him with each smile, it makes him say things: he says he doesn't care. He says it doesn't have to be real.

He says screw all facts and reasoning, he wants it to be. Even if it's not, he'd choose to be stupid and believe blindly.

"Stay," he remembers himself, much younger and uncertain about what he truly wants to do with life, mumbling. "Stay forever."

But he knew.

"Yeah? That's a real long time, Lee." You say, but despite that you had smiled sweetly, "I, I mean... I wouldn't mind though. I would spend it with you, gladly."

He knew. He knows what he's doing.

And now, years later, he knew exactly what he did, too. He knew exactly what he did but when he comes home to you, twirling in the living room and humming to yourself, he smiles and leans at the door frame and watched you fondly anyway.

As long as he comes back to you, right? As long as you were waiting for him at home. This was what loyalty truly meant, right, straying but knowing where to come back anyway?

And you knew exactly what he did. You knew and it showed in the empty look in your eyes as you sang along to your favorite song, in the way you wore your gorgeous smile and looked beautiful but didn't shine. You knew and it dripped like honey from your lips when you played you didn't and said your usual 'welcome home, my love, I was waiting for you. Was tonight fun?'

It was fun.

Alcohol ran in his veins and his head buzzed pleasantly. His friends, mainly Jaemin, were begging him to stop drinking. He laughed it off. They didn't stop stopping him, when he was reaching for another shot and when he was talking to another girl.

He was curious as to what the new drinks tasted, at what other girls sounded. Curiosity birthed greed. He wants more. More answers. He wants to find out what they'd sound like when he drinks the intoxicating liquid from their lips.

He gives in.

It wasn't.

"I wish I just stayed home with you, though, but the boys were persistent," he smirks. He walks towards you, hazed look in his eyes. "Shall I make a proposition in hopes of making it up to my princess?"

"I am listening."

"Then, may I dance to this song with the princess?"

You giggled as you took his hand, ignoring the bile rising from your throat at the thought of where those hands probably were, what they were busy with, because they sure as hell weren't keeping to themselves. You masked it pretty well. You were a convincing actor.

No, rather, a pretty liar.

When he holds your waist, it's in a way so delicate like he always does; you ignore the scent of liquor and rather sweet perfume, not the one he wore. You entwined your hands as you hold them above his nape, smiling dazingly. He swears he sees moonlight shine through your expression.

"Will this be enough, my lovely?"

"Hm."

"I see. You're a bit greedy tonight, aren't you?"

"Mhm. Love you."

"Of course you do. I love you too."

You sway and whisper sweet nothings to each other, not stopping even until the endless loop of your song begins to sound like screeching of tires. When you fall into the couch because your feet can no longer handle spinning in circles, he holds onto your waist tighter and rests on the crook of your neck.

"Stay, moonlight," he rasps. "Stay forever."

Jeno smiles at you one more starlit grin, before giving in to sleep like he does to most things easily. It was fucked up, how innocent he looked. You wanted to kiss his forehead and confess to him one more time before running your touch down his cheeks until they're framing his neck, and clamp down until he couldn't breathe. You want to strangle him softly, sweetly, so he doesn't fucking make mistakes anymore.

It would be helping him, wouldn't it? You're just keeping him from sinning more. Isn't this what love is? Doing everything so neither spiral into the path of evil?

You opt to softly run your fingers through his locks instead. His phone lights up, and you wonder if it's one of his girls, poor things he sees nothing more than dirty little... oh, that word. It disgusts you to the core.

Turning to your own phone, you cut off the soft tune of your love songs, in favor of the haunting instrumental you'd hope to hear when success comes and you're colored red everywhere except inside. Then, you notice Jaemin's messages, a soft smile on your face.

What a wonderful boy he is.

Too bad, you didn't fucking care.

He was the one who opened that door to your once pure boyfriend, after all.

###

(Jaemin ᕱ⑅ᕱ

08:12p.m: hey y/n! thanks for letting jen tag along

08:12p.m: i mean you never did stop him, but i just wanna tell you how happy i am

08:12p.m: thanks for trusting us! i'll look out for him!

08:15p.m: of course we'll be careful, hahaha

08:16p.m: you never ask for it, but I'll update you~ have fun, alright? whatever it is you'll be up to

12:04a.m: y/n

12:04a.m: [image]

12:04a.m: i don't know how to say this, or if there was any right way to, so i'll do it while i still have a little courage. i felt it would be right to tell you... you decide what you do from here on.

12:09a.m: i'm sorry)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 98: Reading, Nervous, Unabashedly, and Shy

Harry was unabashedly obsessed with Draco Malfoy.

He'd decided that he was Harry fucking Potter and he could like whomever he wanted to like and to hell with what everyone else thought.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the corner of the library, reading a book that looked like it was older than time, and Harry couldn't stop staring at him. The sun was streaming in and catching in his blonde hair and turning it gold and with the dust motes drifting around him, he looked ethereal.

"Are you listening to a word that I am saying?" Hermione asked him.

"No," he said honestly.

Ron snorted and Harry glanced at the two of them in time to see them both rolling their eyes.

"It's not my fault," Harry protested. "He's just so..." he trailed off, looking back over at the other boy who was lost in his book, "pretty," he said helplessly.

"So you've mentioned," Hermione said.

"About a hundred times," Ron added.

He groaned, "But it's not just that, is it? He's also all," he shrugged, "Soft." He paused, "Different than he used to be, you know. And he's running that group to help muggleborns acclimate to the Wizarding world-"

"We know," Hermione interrupted.

Ron nodded, "You've told us a hundred times. Just go ask him out."

(Read more below the cut)

Nervous energy filled up every inch of Harry's body at the thought. "I can't."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Walked up bold as brass to Voldemort, though."

"I had to," Harry replied. "Besides it was either confront him or die anyway." He looked back over at Malfoy and sighed.

"Nope," Hermione said, slamming her book shut. "I'm done. I'm not watching this for another moment."

"I had to watch the two of you for years!"

She shook her head and shoved her parchments in her school bag, "Not my problem. Lunch, Ronald?"

He gave Harry an apologetic look but quickly packed up and followed Hermione out, leaving Harry sitting alone at their table.

Unfortunately he could never be alone for long. After a few minutes he could sense that a handful of people were starting to creep closer and he was not about to do that. He picked up his things and moved across the room as quickly as possible, before he could lose what little nerve he'd seemed to muster and stopped in front of Draco's table. "Err," he started, then immediately wanted to kick himself because he sounded like and idiot. "Can I sit here?"

Draco didn't move an inch and he waited a beat before trying again.

"Err, Draco?"

The other boy's head snapped up from his book as though Harry had awoken him from a dream. "Sorry," the boy said, looking around in confusion, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah," Harry said, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck and dropping the papers he'd been holding. "Bugger," he grumbled, bending down to pick them up and promptly banging his head on the table that Draco was sitting at. "Ow fuck!" he hissed, dropping the rest of his books, rubbing at the spot on his forehead, and contemplating just bashing his head against the table again out of sheer frustrated embarrassment.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, and when Harry looked up he saw that the other boy was hovering anxiously by his side.

"Fine," Harry grunted, "Just my pride."

Draco laughed, "Well, if that's all."

Harry mock glared at him and carefully bent down to pick up his things. Pale fingers brushed over his as Draco bent down to help him.

"Sorry," Draco said, snatching his hand away from Harry's quickly and Harry's stomach sank.

"It's fine," he said once he'd managed to gather up his things. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"It's no bother," Draco said quickly before Harry could fully turn away. "Was there something you wanted?"

He turned and took a deep breath, "I was asking if I could sit at your table?"

The other boy's brow furrowed, "You want to sit with me?"

"Right," Harry said, "It's stupid. Ron and Hermione just left-" he started before shaking his head, "People don't-" he rubbed a hand over his mouth, "I thought it might be nice," he finally settled on. "But you're right. It's stupid. I'll just-"

"You're welcome to sit with me," Draco said. "If you wanted to?" he added. "Like not because you felt like you needed to save me from being alone or-"

"What?" Harry said. "No. You looked totally fine being alone," he said. "No, it's me that's not fine being alone. Not that I can't-"

"Harry," Draco said, the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. "I would very much like it if you joined me."

His heart beat a little quicker, "I would like that."

With a little nod, Draco returned to his seat and Harry slid into the seat across from him. "What are you reading?" Harry asked.

"Don't laugh," Draco murmured, looking up at him.

Harry crossed his heart and put on his most serious face.

"It's an old book of muggle fairytales. They're ghastly and fascinating," he said. "Like this one," he said, gesturing to the page he was on, "The Little Mermaid."

"Oh, I know that story," Harry said, eager to find some common ground, "A mermaid gets her voice taken away by an evil sea witch in exchange for legs," Draco nodded with a pleased little smile. "And then she tried to get the prince to fall in love with her but the sea witch enchants him, then her father has to come and save the day."

Draco frowns, "No. The Prince marries another girl and she's told she can keep her legs if she kills him. She doesn't and ends up being turned into sea foam."

"What?"

"I know!" Draco said, "I told you they're ghastly."

"What else?" Harry asked.

"There's a story about a Princess who sleeps on a pile of mattresses with a single pea underneath that turns her black and blue."

"The Princess and the Pea," Harry nods.

"There's one about a girl who has to serve her step mother and step sisters," Draco said.

"Cinderella."

Draco nods, "You've heard it?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's a classic. Basically all muggle children know it."

"They tell you a story about girls cutting off their heels and getting their eyes pecked out by birds?"

"What? No!" Harry laughed. "They tell you a story about a commoner becoming a princess because the prince matches her slipper to her foot."

"But what about the step sisters cutting off pieces of their feet-"

"Ew! No!" Harry protested. "That's disgusting."

He nudged the book across the table, "You don't know your muggle stories as well as you think."

"Alright," Harry said, "What's the next one?"

Draco looked down at the book and flipped a few pages, "Sleeping Beauty," he replied. "Do you know this one?"

He nodded, "Long story short a girl is cursed, pricks her finger on a spinning wheel and falls into a deep sleep, and is then awoken by true love's kiss. Maleficent gets killed in the end."

"Well, let's see if you're right."

Draco started to read aloud and Harry listened becoming more and more horrified as the story went on.

When he finally reached the ending Harry couldn't help but say, "Wait," he shook his head, "The author called it a happy ending for her to end up with the guy who was married to someone else and impregnated her while she was asleep?" he asked incredulously.

"I told you!" Draco said, "These stories are ghastly."

"Disgusting," Harry said.

"Quite." Draco closed the book and stretched a bit.

Harry asked, "How long have you been here?"

He shrugged, "I came here after breakfast."

"It's nearly 5:00," Harry said.

Draco nodded.

"Would you," he started, then swallowed, "Maybe like to get dinner with me?"

A shy smile crept onto Draco's face but he nodded.

"I feel it's only fair for me to tell you that I like you."

He laughed softly, "I like you, too."

"No, like I like-like you." Harry clarified.

"I feel the same," Draco replied with a grin.

"Oh," Harry said.

"Yes, oh."

"Good. That's..." he trailed off, too giddy to find words, "good."

Draco laughed again and they started packing up their things.

"I think I know what our first official date should be," Harry said as they started off toward the Great Hall.

"Oh?" the other boy asked, his shoulder bumping casually against Harry's as they walked.

"I'm taking you to watch all of the Disney versions of those stories. You deserve to see happy endings for those."

Draco hummed in agreement, "Yes. Happy endings would be lovely all around."

And a few years down the road, when Harry proposed he was sure to tell Draco (for the first of many times) that he was his happy ending.

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

Day 97: Mine and Dark | Day 99: Risk

[gavin-plz-call-me]

i saw you did an nsfw alphabet for wannabe challenge so i was wondering if you could do one for tears of themis? i'd love to see one for artem

Hell yeah, alphabets are the only nsfw stuff I'm good at writing

AO3

Artem NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

-Stills inside/beside you for a moment while you both catch your breath, then he’s combing through your hair, peppering your body with loving kisses.

-Has wet wipes/tissues to help clean you up at arm's length, so if let’s be honest, when you whine about not wanting to leave his side just yet, he can help you clean up.

-If you’re still clingy after a while, this man will carry you to the bathroom to get the rest of the way cleaned up.

-If you find yourself in a more dominant role in the bedroom sub Artem? It’s more likely than you think be prepared to pepper that man with so much love and care.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-His favorite body part of himself is his eyes. They’re a nice color, but I don’t think he thinks about his appearance too much.

-As for you, would it be cliche to say your brain?

-While your beauty was what attracted him first, your mind is what really sealed the deal.

-Your mouth is a close second, because it helps you voice your thoughts in that beautiful voice of yours and, I mean, if you wanted to give him a blow job too he wouldn’t be complaining…

-Is an ass man.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

-Is hesitant on deciding where to cum.

-He thinks cumming anywhere in/on you would not be a very pleasant experience for you.

-But in the heat of the moment, he’ll probably end up cumming inside you if he’s wearing protection, or on your thighs/ass if he’s not.

-When he cums, whether it be in you or on you, he’s grabbing you a tissue when he comes down from his high to clean you up.

-If you swallow his cum he’ll be a little disgusted, but a lot turned on.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-Has masturbated in his office after you’ve left on multiple occasions.

-Sometimes the perfume you were wearing was extra enticing, sometimes what you were wearing made you look extra hot, and sometimes your presence alone is enough to get him hot and excited.

-Is mostly ashamed about the times he did it before you two were dating because it felt like an intrusion of your privacy.

-Once Celestine came to his office right after he finished and he was so mortified that she’d somehow be able to tell that he did something. She knew something was up because of how much he was blushing, but she didn’t know what exactly

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

-Big old virgin

-I’m not even saying that to be mean plus being a virgin isn’t bad it’s just true.

-Sure, his lack of experience may be a bit of a hindrance at first, but he’s a clean slate.

-He’s not gonna be doing some weird thing with your clit because a girl he was with before liked that.

-Train him to perfectly pleasure you, and, trust me, he’s a fast learner.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

-Your first few times together he only did missionary, because, while he knew there were other options, he didn’t know how to initiate them.

-As he got more experience, however, he grew to absolutely love doggy style.

-Loves your ass, so it’s an obvious choice. Plus, if he’s extra flustered, he can easily hide it.

-Grips your ass extra hard while kissing your neck and back. If he’s feeling extra brave, expect a few whispers about how good you feel.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

-He has his goofy moments, but most of the time he’s 100% serious.

-Whether it be because he’s concentrating on learning how to pleasure you correctly, or, when he’s gained a bit of experience, just concentrating on both of your pleasure.

-I feel like as you guys get closer, however, an awkward moment may turn into a brief bout of giggles shared between the two of you before continuing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

-Shaved himself completely when you two started dating.

-Was convinced you’d be disgusted by any hair down there. My poor insecure baby

-When he gets more comfortable around you, he’ll let it grow out, but he still trims it to keep it neat.

-Carpets match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

-Is a whore for a sexy, romantic atmosphere.

-I’m talking rose petals, candles, and a couple of glasses of non-alcoholic wine.

-Wanna have the most romantic love-making session imaginable? Set all of that up for him instead of the other way around.

-He’ll be so in love with you at that moment he’ll have no choice but to give you the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

-Before meeting you, he jacked off maybe once or twice a week, and it was more of something he had to do than something he wanted to do.

-When he met you, he thought you were the most attractive person he’d ever seen, so his sex drive and, naturally, his masturbation sessions increased.

-Increased to every other day, maybe every day. He tried to not think of you during these times as he felt it was an invasion of privacy emphasis on tried.

-After finally getting together with you, his sessions have decreased back down to once or twice a week.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

-Likes having sex in his office, but that’s the most public space he’ll do it in.

-Also loves it when you’re slightly dominant on him.

-Doesn’t want to do any of the more kinky stuff, tying him or you, depending on his mood with a tie is about as far as he’ll go.

-But just take charge, he loves it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

-Can’t go wrong with the good old fucking in bed. It’s easy, comfortable, and you guys can take as long as you want.

-Get him riled up at work by wearing something that beautifully shows of your ass, or make sure he knows you’re wearing that pair of panties you know he loves or, fuck it, no panties at all he’ll polietly ask you into his office so he can fuck your brains out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

-Loves when you assert yourself, especially at work.

-Get all confident during a trial because you know you’re going to win? That’s all the motivation he needs.

-Does not help his productivity at all, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

-Expect to fuck after a trial, extra hard if you won.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-No threesomes/group sex.

-It’s not even because he’ll get jealous okay maybe a bit of that but you were his first and only. Everything he’s learned about sex has been about specifically pleasuring you, he wouldn’t know where to begin when having sex with other people.

-He’s more than content with you being his one and only.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

-Not skilled at the beginning like all things sexual, but he’s a fast learner.

-Good communication is key here, as it is in all aspects of sex with Artem. Guide him to where you want to be pleasured, praise him when you really like what he’s doing, and give him some delicious moans and he’ll be a pro at fucking you with his tounge alone in no time.

-Is too shy to ask for you to go down on him, and will insist you don’t have to when you try to initiate it.

-Ignore him and do it, the noises you draw from him are absolutely worth it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

-Starts off at a weird middle ground sort of pace, not fast and not slow.

-Is fond of slow and sensual when he grows more experienced, but will occasionally get rough with you.

-That usually happens when he gets a bit too jealous of a guy who got a bit too close to you for your liking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

- doesn’t really have a choice in the matter at the beginning, mr. 30 seconds (sorry Artem)

-For real, he prefers longer love-making sessions, but if you’re teasing him in the office a quickie will ensue.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

-Grows more confident the more the two of you have sex.

-He does like fucking in his office, so he likes a bit of risk, but there being too many people in the office, or the chance of Celestine walking in at anytime, Artem would much rather feign working on a case and take you home.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

-At first, like most virgin boys, his stamina is basically nonexistent.

-Let him take his time, he’ll get to fucking you until the sun rises in no time at all.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

-Has never thought about getting one for himself when his hand does the job well enough.

-Is very open to using toys on you in the bedroom, especially when he’s feeling insecure about his ability to please you which happens often, scream his name and make him forget those insecurities.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-Not a teaser in the slightest.

-You want something specific in the bedroom? He’s already doing it, you barely have to ask.

-On the flip side, sort of loves it when you’re unfair to him.

-Just barely touch him and stop at the brink of his orgasm, he gets a sick sort of pleasure from that.

-It also helps him gain more control over himself in the bedroom, so it’s a win-win.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

-May try to stay quiet, after all, in all the porn he’s watched which isn’t a lot because I feel like watching it makes him feel uncomfortable the man is always basically silent.

-That does not work out for him, though. He gets so overwhelmed with pleasure that he can’t control what his vocal cords are doing.

-Gains a bit more control over it over time, but he realizes you like his moans, so he stops trying to keep them at bay.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

-Is a total switch.

-Can be pretty dominant at some times see his atmospheric card

-But I can totally see him wanting you to dom him sometimes. Loves seeing you dominate the court, if you bring that energy to bed, oh boy is he like putty in your hands.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

-He’s of average girth and slightly above average length. Has a nice, thick vein that runs the length of his penis.

-Uncut.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

-Has a very active imagination how else would he become such a great lawyer?

-And while that helps him out in his work, anything about you can really set him off.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Is out like a light

-Especially the first few times, his body doesn’t know what hit him.

-But even after a while, he works so hard that the moment he has the chance to fall asleep, his body is taking that chance.

-Make sures to stay up long enough to get cleaned off and help you clean yourself up.

[lubdubsworld]

The Bet. Rated ( 18 +)

Pairing : Taehyung x Jimin X Jungkook x Reader. ( Foursome )  But you can see that i favor Taehyung a whole lot here ;) 

Warnings : Listen, this is a foursome...three hung guys fuck one girl if you’re gonna need warnings I’m gonna just say , unfollow me. :D 

Just kidding : Everything is consensual and everyone has a good time .  yes and thank you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re serious? All three of us ? At the same time?” Jungkook’s eyes are even bigger than usual which is really saying something. You squint into them, trying to fathom where that devilish sparkle comes from. it’s so fucking unfair. The dude has eyes like bambi and the twin orbs seem to carry every star in the fucking milkyway. 

“Sure...” You slur, only a little drunk but still feeling it. Next to Jungkook his best buddies, Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin stand leaning against the kitchen counter , watching you like you’re the last meal they’ll ever have. 

You blink a bit, trying to remember what you were talking about.

Oh, yeah. 

The Bet. 

“Sure, Jungkook-ah.... you guys win the match this friday and I’ll let you fuck me. All three of you. “ 

It’s actually pretty stupid, how amusing this whole thing is to you.

Don’t these idiots know who they’re playing this weekend? Astro are national level players.... They’ve played in matches in other countries for fuck sake. the likelihood of Bangtan winning the basketball match on friday is none to none. 

“I’m gonna want that in writing,  angel.” Kim Taehyung’s deep as fuck voice practically vibrates through your body, his sultry brown eyes heavy with lust as he stares you down . 

You gaze at him, the beautiful features clearly crafted to perfection by some god looking to show off. You don’t see beauty like Kim Taehyung on the regular and it feels like a scam, that people get to look at his face for free. A privilege if there ever was one, you think reverently. 

But for all his beauty, he’s still very much a stranger to you. 

Jimin and Jungkook live next door and are your friends. You’ve known them for years. Even hooked up with them a couple of times  ( individually that is ) . Jungkook’s a sweetheart, kind and generous and Jimin is a bit of a pervert but very gentle. 

You like them. 

  Kim Taehyung’s the one here you don’t really know too well. Taehyung’s the new transfer student, and for all his beauty and popularity  he holds himself aloof from others. Polite but somehow intimidating.  He doesn’t have a lot of friends save for Jimin and Jungkook and he’s turned down every girl that’s asked him out so far. 

 In fact you half expected him to make a noise of disgust and walk away when you offered to let the three star players of the basketball team , fuck you in the locker rooms after the match if they won the match on friday.  

You certainly hadn’t expected him to straighten up, face showing interest for the first time this entire night, eyes lighting up as he sauntered closer , clearly eager to make you follow through on your promise. 

There’s a very familiar voice screaming in the back of your head, going, ‘ what the fuck are you doing you idiot, ‘ but that voice is way too faint. Easily silenced by the lust and anticipation clouding your senses. 

You blink at him, affronted.

“You don’t value my word?” You frown deeply. Jimin laughs at that, voice breathy and angelic.

“Not when something like this is at risk.” He teases, eyes fond and eager , but tongue licking his lips as he trails his gaze up and down your body, blatant and shameless in his admiration. 

You pout a little, tugging the plush softness of your lower lip between your teeth , too tipsy to notice the way the three men follow the movement, hungry and eager as they stare at your tongue as it peeks out a bit to wet your lips. 

“Hmm...okay.” You grab a napkin off the counter, looking around for a pen. But the chances of finding a pen in a frat party is next to none and you frown. 

“Here you go angel.” Taehyung taps his chest and you stare. Oh yeah, Taehyung’s wearing a black button down and there’s a shiny pen sticking out of his pocket. You hold your hand out for it but he doesn’t budge. Instead he curls his finger , asking you to come get it yourself. 

“So mean.” You pout, voice a little whiny as you move to get it from him. He’s so distressingly tall and you reach up to grab the pen, only to stumble a little, face crashing into his chest. 

Strong arms come around your body, grip hard and sturdy and the scent of his cologne makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re almost drooling because of how fucking good he smells, how warm he feels and god he’s built like a dream. Hard abs, thick arms and broad shoulders. His fingers grip your waist, squeezing hard and you wince a bit because it stings . 

“little slut.” He whispers, and you blink , confused. You look up at his face and there’s nothing but fondness there, like he’s praising you. 

You press your fists against his chest to push away from him. His hand shoots out gripping your wrist hard before bringing it up to his chest.

“Your pen, angel.” He smirks and you grab it quickly, shaking his grip off your wrist.

You stare down at the napkin in your hand.

“What am i supposed to write here?” You feel completely disoriented. Both Jimin and Jungkook merely smile and its Taehyung who steps forward, eyes glinting.

“Let me help.” he drawled, leaning over the counter and scribbling quickly on the piece of paper. i watched as he straightened away eyes flitting to see what he’d written. 

 I, ---- , agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight,  like the whore that I am.... 

 I felt blood rush to my ears, the words obscene and wrong in my ear.

It was a good thing there was no chance they would win. 

I glared at him, signing the paper with a flourish.

“Did you even read it?” He raised an eyebrow.

You nod.

“Read it aloud for me anyway, angel. Just so i can be sure.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve never seen you at a match before.” Your best friend looks completely surprised by your presence in the front row , at the game on friday night. You’re here for one reason and one reason only. 

To gloat in Kim Taehyung’s face after he faces crushing defeat in the hands of the other team. 

Except, that’s not quite what happens. 

Astro are good but apparently the only thing your school had needed all along was one Kim fucking Taehyung. He seemed to know exactly what plays the other team was going to use , out maneuvering them each time and you feel the first inkling of regret begin to stir. Throat going just a little dry at half time ,you turn to your friend.

“How’s he beating their ass like that?” You croak out pointing at Taehyung, who’s drinking water . His eyes are searching the crowd and you just know. Instinctively, that he’s looking for you. Feeling hunted, you crouch lower, gripping your friends arm in a death grip. 

“Didn’t you know? He used to play for them before he transferred here. “ 

Your heart takes a straight dive to your knees. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the match ends, Bangtan winning by a huge margin,  you hightail it out of the stands. You get held up a bit by the crowds, a precious fifteen minutes pent fighting the throng of bodies and you can feel your pulse racing. 

The bet said one night. Not tonight.

 So maybe you could put it off... maybe you could get some time... just to prepare yourself... getting fucked by three guys at once was definitely NOT  on your bucket list and while the idea is thrilling and exciting you just need to get your bearings, get some semblance of clarity in your head. 

The halls are deserted , nearly everyone is at the game and you begin running , almost sighing in relief when you reach the final turn in the hallway , opening into the parking lot. 

You turn the corner, still running , only to crash straight into a broad , strapping body. 

His fucking scent is what hits you first and you panic. 

 no...no..fuck... 

Before you can get away he wraps one arm right around your middle, lifting you clear off the ground , his palm coming down to muffle the scream that bubbles up your throat and the sound of Taehyung’s deep laughter makes your hair stand on end. 

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Taehyung sings softly into your ear and you close your eyes in despair. 

Now you know that the faint voice you ignored that night was the voice of reason. 

 It takes you a second to notice that both Jungkook and Jimin are there as well, freshly showered and dressed in sweats looking cheerfully amused. 

“Changed your mind, baby?” Jimin teases and Taehyung growls behind you, the sound low and raspy against your ear. 

“Like hell she has. Know what I’ve been jerking off to for the past week? Play it for her ...jungkook-ah.” 

Jungkook looks entirely too happy as he fumbles with his phone.

Your own voice fills the hallway, soft and sultry and slurring just a little. 

“ I,----,  agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight,  like the whore that I am....”

 You whimper because yes...you definitely said that out loud and fuck him for having recorded it when had he even done that.... and yup you definitely signed a paper too. 

“ Did you change your mind, angel?” Taehyung asks gently and you hesitate. Your body is already thrumming with anticipation and the idea of putting this off , going through it all over again is unappealing. Why not just get it over with?

Hos bad could it possibly be , right?

You shake your head slowly. 

“Good girl.” Taehyung’s arm relaxes a bit, letting you go and you stumble away, moving to Jimin instinctively You know Jimin. Jimin is safe. 

The latter gives you a warm hug, pulling you closer. 

“I got you, baby.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek,” its just a good time. You’ll have fun. Don’t be scared.” He soothes. Taehyung’s eyes glint devilishly and Jungkook rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm. 

“We’ll take my car. “ Taehyung says coolly, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and dragging him along, , already walking away and you cling to Jimin for security, following the other two to the parking lot. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung is, apparently filthy rich. 

He has a huge dance studio in his house and apparently, he was well prepared. Your eyes fall on the plush mattress on the floor, the condoms nearby and you feel yourself flushing. 

You open your mouth , ready to say something...what you’re not so sure, but then Jungkook is grabbing you by the arm, yanking you forward and pressing his lips against yours. You’ve kissed him enough times that it is instinctive for you to put you hand on his shoulder while he holds your waist gently, his tongue licking its way into your mouth as he tilts his face to get a better angle

“Can’t believe you agreed to get your cunt wrecked by three guys at the same time.... It’s just like they say... its always the ones that look innocent. ” Taehyung’s voice is soft against your ear and you can feel him behind you, pressed up against your back. 

You shiver when firm hands come around you from the back, Taehyung’s fingers making quick work of the buttons on your blouse. Before you can fully process it, Jimin’s already yanking your skirt and underwear down in one clean move. You feel Taehyung’s long fingers flick your bra open easily and you shiver when the fabric falls away, leaving you fully naked in front of three fully dressed men. 

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, angel.” Taehyung  taunts, pressing closer and rolling his hips into your back, his clothed erection pressing against the cleft of your ass . 

You can feel yourself getting wet already, you pussy clenching around nothing, your insides  aching . You clench your fists to ground yourself. It was way too early to be feeling this desperate, you think wildly. you won’t survive the night if you get so aroused so quickly. 

Taehyung hums hands falling on your waist, cool against your bare skin and he trails his hand down to the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging in with enough force to make you whimper. 

“Shut up, you little slut, i barely touched you.” Taehyung snaps, slapping your thigh. Hard. 

Jungkook pulls back when you choke a little at the pain. Taehyung points at the younger with a smile. 

“Go strip and lie down on the mattress Jungkook-ah. Let’s have her sit on your face for a while.” He says calmly and Jungkook moves to obey quickly. While he strips, Jimin moves to take his place, kissing you gently , hands reaching down to shape your breasts, thumbs rubbing against your nipples till the nubs pucker up, hard and throbbing. 

Fingers slip into your pussy, so long and thick that your eyes widen in shock at the intrusion. Taehyung is rough and ruthless, fucking into you with ease.

“Not as tight as i expected. You get around huh , angel?” He asks casually and you feel like your entire body is one fire. Jimin kneads your breasts, tongue licking into your mouth as he moans, tasting you. You can see Jungkook over Jimin’s shoulder, while Taehyung fucks his long, fingers into you , hard and rough. He’s stripped fully now and your eyes drink in the sight of him naked, muscles on display and you tremble, because he looks so fucking good.

“Hmm.. Jungkook looks good huh baby? He’s gonna fuck you so good tonight. All nice and gentle and considerate ... because he’s a good little kid....Not like me. I’m gonna make you fucking limp.  “ Taehyung slips one hand around to rub  a thumb against your clit, and you clench down around his fingers. 

Jimin pulls back. 

“You talk too fucking much. Let me fuck her now.” He drawls, eyes dancing as he tugs you closer . You whimper when Taehyung’s finger slip right out, wetness spilling out of you , dripping down your thigh with ease. 

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up, before taking a couple of steps and tossing you on the mattress. You bounce for a second, surprised and then before you can get yourself together, Jimin is pushing you up on top of Jungkook. 

“Come and straddle my shoulders, beautiful.” Jungkook says sweetly and your thighs feel like jelly. You struggle a bit to do as as asked, sitting on his chest , knees hitting the mattress on either side of his face and he reaches out, gripping your waist and pulling you closer till your pussy is right over his mouth. 

“Guk-ah wait. “ You turn around and Jimin is right behind you, kneeling over Jungkook’s chest as well, stroking his cock to full hardness. 

Jungkook laughs a little. 

“Looks like Jimin hyung wants to fuck you while I eat you out... Spread your thighs a little, baby.” He says. 

You glance up at Taehyung, who’s watching you carefully, fingers lazily stripping off his own clothes and you swallow, turning away to the front and spreading your   knees a bit more. 

You almost lose balance and crash forward, but strong hands grip your arms, keeping you kneeling over the youngest and you stare up at Taehyung, who’s standing right over jungkook, his cock right up against your face. You stare at the hard, thick length of it mouth watering and he laughs knowingly. 

“Can always tell a good slut apart from the look in her eyes.” He grins, “ You look like you can’t wait for me to fuck your mouth , angel.”

“No , I-” you’re cut off by the thick cockhead nudging your entrance and you grab Taehyung’s waist to steady yourself, gasping when Jimin slides right into you from behind. The feeling of being filled

“Fuck, Jimin  hyung, i can see your cock fucking right into her pretty pink pussy... She’s dripping all over my face.” Jungkook’s awed voice makes your cheek flame and you grip taehyung harder. 

“Lick her clit, jungkook’ ah ...make her cum....” Taehyung says causally, before carefully leaning down and gripping your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin , making you open your mouth. 

“Your tongue feels a little too dry , angel..” He comments, after slipping two fingers into your mouth.” i like my fuckholes wet and messy.... “ He smiles, leaning closer. You feel jungkook’s tongue flicking rapidly against your clit and your thighs tremble as Jimin fucks into you. Jungkook uses his finger to lightly pinch your clit and you feel yourself get wetter dripping all over his chin and Jimin swears. 

“Fuck so fucking wet...” He fucks into you harder, the squelching sound loud and embarrassing in the room. 

Taehyung smiles fondly. 

“ Knew you’d be the perfect little fuck toy....Hold your tongue out for me....” To far gone to think, you stick your tongue out and he smiles, “ Don’t fucking swallow...” He instructs and your eyes widen when he leans over and opens his mouth, spitting a mouthful of his spit into your tongue. Before you can fully process it , he’s already feeding his thick cock into your mouth, hands reaching back to grip your hair hair yanking your head back. 

He uses one hand to keep your head back, the other tracing your throat, feeling the bulge of his dick through the skin of your neck as he shoves his cock right down your throat. Your eyes water, drooling slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you inhale shakily every time he pulls out, gripping his waist to stop your self from collapsing into a heap on the mattress. 

The sensation of being fucked by Jimin , and having Jungkook’s tongue all over your clit , flicking the throbbing swollen nub, while Taehyung fucked your mouth raw with sharp powerful thrust is something you won’t forget till the day you fucking  die. 

“Your cunt’s dripping wet for us...you love this don’t you pretty?” Jungkook teases between licks  and Jimin laughs. 

“Slutty little kittens like her always like getting their cunt wrecked....” He presses kisses all over your neck and Taehyung merely groans, fingers tightening on your scalp, yanking you closer so he can fuck you deeper. 

“Tight little cunt...can’t wait to fucking break it. “ Taehyung hisses and the words tip you over the edge, your pussy clenching around Jimin , who stiffens at the sensation. 

“Fuck... I’m coming.” He grunts, gripping your waist hard, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom  . Jungkook groans at that. 

“About fucking time hyung, “ He sighs, pulling away from your clit, licking the juices spilling out of your fucked out cunt, “ my cock hurts...get the fuck away I need to get in her....fuck.” 

You feel your limbs turn to jelly and Taehyung pulls out of your mouth as well as you collapse a bit.

“You okay baby...need a drink of water?” Jimin asks softly and you nod. He moves away to get the bottle and Jungkook crawls up the mattress till you’re straddling his hips. 

“Can i fuck you?” He asks hesitantly and you laugh a little at the tone of his voice. Fuck...he looks like he’s asking for banana milk or something. Before you can fully appreciate the duality of the kid, he’s lining himself up against your entrance and thrusting up into you. 

“Hang on Jungkook ah... let me join you.” Taehyung says softly . Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him.

“What? i think i deserve to get a turn with that slutty cunt , too right?” He laughed, moving to kneel on the mattress next to you. Jungkook stops moving clearly confused about the mechanics but Taehyung merely grabs your waist and lifts you up. 

“Wrap your legs around my waist, he prompts and you do as he says.

“Hyung...” Jungkook whines from the mattress in protest and Taehyung gives him a glare. 

“Patience Jungkook-ah..” He says sternly. “ I’m gonna lean back against the wall and you’re going to slip in with me. We’ll fuck her together ..... Make sure she remembers this for a while....” he smirks. 

Jimin appears then, fully dressed and with bottle of water. He opens it for you, holding the mouth against your lips and you take big greedy gulps of the liquid.

“Ready to get DP’d baby? Cross that off your bucket list?” Jimin asks with a smirk and you groan. 

“I’m not forgiving you for this.” You croak out at him. Your voice scratchy from disuse. You haven’t spoken a word to Taehyung this entire time. Although its clear he’s the one running this entire show. You just can’t bring yourself to say anything to his face. He terrifies you and the worst part is how arousing that fear is. 

Jungkook stands up then , stroking his cock impatiently. 

“I need to fuck her now. Its not fair that I’m the only one who hasn’t had a turn yet” He pouts petulantly and you swallow, wrapping your arms tighter around Taehyung’s neck. He startles when you bury your nose into his neck, moving your hips a bit till the head of his cock is pressed against your slit.

“I’m ready...” You whisper softly, literally the first words you’ve spoken to him since this started and he swallows. 

“Good girl. ” He says gently and you tremble at how deep his voice is. He grips the back of your thighs, spreading you open before gently lowering you down onto his cock . He’s bigger than Jimin and you have to grit your teeth to take in the length of him. 

“poor Jungkookie....he looks like he’s gonna cry...” His fingers flutter down to where his cock is fucking into you, tracing the seam of your pussy and scooping up the wetness of your arousal. You groan when he slips two fingers in along with his cock, stretching you out a bit more.

“You can take it.... Your body ...fuck... so tight and so fucking hot...you were built for this... the perfect little doll...” 

You feel yourself slipping but then there’s a familiar warm body, pressed up against your back and you sigh as Jungkook grips your waist holding you up steadier, lining his dick up against your pussy. 

“Gonna push in, sweetheart.” Jungkook presses a wet kiss against your shoulder.

“Just relax....don’t clench down....relax and your body will do all the work for you angel...relax and you can take both of us in...” Taehyung whispers. You breathe in deep, exhaling harshly. Fear is still simmering on the surface. you’ve never done something like this before. 

“Ready...” He prompts and you take a deep breath, letting your limbs go limp on the exhale and Jungkook pushes in , cleaving his way into your body with one smooth stroke. 

The pressure is unbearable and you feel like you’re being split apart. But you also feel so incredibly full, both of them lodged so deep inside you that you can feel them in your gut. You let your eyes shut close, dropping your head down on Taehyung’s shoulder. 

“Ready, kook-ah?” Taehyung says suddenly and you eyes fly open. Ready for what. 

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out and just as he pushes back in Taehyung pulls out. 

Your entire body clenches at the sensation, pleasure hitting every single inch of you as they set up a rhythm , taking turns to fuck into you and you can only hang on , gripping Taehyung’s shoulders as your body burns hotter and hotter, fire licking up your insides where you feel swollen and tender and fucking  ruined.

This time when you cum, you black out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, showered and wearing a really big white t shirt and a pair of silk boxers and you blush. 

God this was embarrassing. You’re feeling  surprisingly okay, consider what just happened. A little sore but nothing too terrible. 

The knock on the door makes you jump.

“Come in .” You said softly.

Its Taehyung. 

“Hey... How are you doing ?” He asks with a little smile, a glass of water in his hand and you feel yourself flushing.

“I... is Jimin around... “ You ask desperately.

“He’s gone home. You sort of passed out so I brought you here.” He was staring at you so intently, you couldn’t quite think clearly.

“Oh well.. I’m fine.. you should drop me home.” You say shrilly.

"i called your mother. Told her you were having a sleepover with my sister. So you can crash here for the night. ” 

“Your sister? “ you blink

“Taehee? She’s in pre med....”

“Oh...okay.” you smile awkwardly. 

“I’ll leave the door open. I’m in the guest room down the hall.” he says pointing. 

that startles you. 

You look around curiously, finally noticing the posters and the basket ball jersey in the closet. 

“this is your room?” 

He nods. 

“ I can sleep in the guest room!” 

He smiles. 

“The bed’s lumpy there.” 

You bite your lips, fighting a smile. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Or maybe you just want your sheets to smell like me.” You don’t know where this is coming from. Are you really flirting with Kim Taehyung? 

He laughs.

“Maybe. Good night, ------” 

He locks the door behind him as he leaves. 

~~~~~~~!~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : how to waste two hours :  a memoir by me. 

[brittanyslibrary]

Small Victories ➤ Levi Ackerman

Summary: The special training course you opted into was fast paced, exhausting, and downright brutal. Even so, you were determined to become a sorely needed field medic for the Survey Corps, knowing it would most likely lead to your demise.

You couldn’t lie, a part of you also just wanted to prove to Captain Levi that you were far more than just Titan bait…

You knew, going into this, you’d be on the front lines. Commander Erwin had informed you the day he went over your file that you would be stationed close to the Special Ops squad; where you were needed most.

You knew that, and yet, as you watched a soldier’s flailing legs disappear into the 10 meter’s mouth, heard his deafening screams piercing the humid air, smelled the irony scent of blood, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d been in over your head.

Perhaps Captain Levi had been right about you.

“All you medic types are the same,” he’d told you the first time he’d ever met you. “Self sacrificial, stubborn, and fucking stupid”

It was then that you decided you would prove him wrong.

You leaned over a fallen comrade, clinging to life despite the gaping chunk taken out of his thigh. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, openly weeping for his mother as his body trembled.

I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him.

The rumbling of titan footsteps shook the ground beneath you, but you knew you’d lose your nerve if you turned to look at them ambling towards you. So, you opted to keep your face set as your hands worked on instinct.

His eyes were wide and pleading as he searched your immediate surroundings for any sign of the Special Ops Squad. You’d been separated from them when you saw the kid, amidst all the chaos, nearly lose his entire leg to a four meter titan.

You were grateful they’d taught you how to slay the ugly bastards, but you could hardly perform your medical duties while killing the titans that were heading straight for you.

And if you didn’t stop the bleeding soon….

“You’re alright, you’re gonna be fine,” your assurances left your lips like a mantra while you wound thick, cotton bandages over his thigh.

“They’re coming…they’re coming straight for us,” he wailed.

“Let them come, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna give up when we’ve still got a fighting chance” you snapped, tying the bandage as tight as you could. “You’re gonna have to lean on me and use your other leg. I can’t carry you to the cart like this” you informed him.

By now, both of your clothes were soaked in his blood. As he hobbled to the abandoned cart, where your horse was waiting to pull it, you could practically feel the titans on top of you.

You could picture their smiling faces, eager to devour you.

The boy, who’s name you learned to be Asmund, scooted as far back onto the cart as he could with his busted leg. Hope bloomed in your chest as you tossed your supply bag beside him.

You were going to make it.

He was screaming again, but not for the sorry state of his leg. He was screaming your name, urging you to hurry because there was a titan directly behind you and if you didn’t get your ass onto the horse it was going to-

You felt its fingers wind themselves around your shoulders, upper arms and torso. It squeezed you in its palm, causing your eyes to bulge and silencing the scream that sat poised on your tongue.

You were done for, you knew that much. All that was left to do was close your eyes and think of him, the man who would, no doubt, blame himself for the loss of your life.

The first time you’d offered to help the Captain with his paperwork, he’d scoffed at the notion and told you to leave him alone.

You brought tea the next time, and he finally allowed you the allotted space in his office, giving you your own personal stack of papers to date and check.

“Your lack of sleep is going to catch up with you, Captain” you’d told him as you dipped your pen in the ink well. “You’re pushing your body too far when you only allow it a few hours’ rest. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long without fainting, truthfully”

You worried for him the way a spouse would worry after their partner, but you never wanted to admit that to yourself.

“Yeah? So what?” he paused his furious pen strokes to level you with a glare.

“You should take better care of yourself,” you murmured gently.

“You should mind your own damn business” was his curt reply.

You weren’t certain if it was the reflection of the candle flame or the shadows on his face playing tricks, but you could have sworn you saw a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Nice work!” Petra commended you with a slap on the back and a grin on her face. Out of Levi’s Squad, she was by far the most welcoming.

“Yeah, you almost beat my time. Too bad I’m far more skilled than anyone here” Oluo smirked from his seat against a tree trunk.

You’d done well for yourself in training, only having two years to complete your cadet training rather than the usual four granted to everyone else. You were much older than them, as well, and stuck out like a sore thumb. So, admiring your handy work in the form of slain titan dummies, you were rather proud.

“You used too much gas,” Levi drawled, coming up to kick at one of your near empty canisters.

His eyes were narrowed as he glared at you, waiting for a proper response.

“I’m sorry Captain, I..I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’d been using” you winced as his glare sharpened.

“You didn’t realize, huh,” he circled you like a predator, eyeing your taut form as he did so. “Perhaps you’ll realize it when you’re halfway down a disgusting titan’s gullet. Perhaps you’ll realize when you’re stranded in the middle of an open plain and crushed under one of their feet”

He stopped, suddenly, directly in front of you. He was so close you could make out the dark circles under his eyes and the lines at his brow.

“A stupid mistake, I can always count on that from you” he spoke your name as if it were an insult. All the while, his face showed no sign of anything but irritation.

You hated that you cared so much about what he thought of you.

“I’ll do better next time” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Outside the walls, there won’t be a next time!” his volume had grown steadily, as he was all but shouting now. “You get careless and then you’re dead. You get yourself killed out there, and we lose you, and then that’s another fucking life…wasted”

The others had enough sense to ditch this situation when it first began, which had left you and Levi by yourselves between the trees.

He quickly turned away, crossing the grounds swiftly enough that you barely had time to analyze what the hell he’d just come out with.

The Captain cared about all his soldiers, you assured yourself to quell the pounding in your chest.

It probably meant nothing.

You heard your name again, this time from a completely different direction.

.. The titan’s jaws were just below you as you dangled from its grasp. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even think of anything besides the smell of the gaping mouth you were about to be shoved into.

And Levi, your Captain, a man who was so gentle if you could just break through the tough outer shell he hid behind.

He was calling out to you, desperation you’d never heard from him before apparent in his shouts.

You caught a glimpse of him, swords drawn and determination set in his grey eyes. He was fast, but you knew he wouldn’t be fast enough.

You accepted this as the hot tears fell slowly down your cheeks.

.. “I enjoy your company, Captain Levi” you confessed to him from your seat at the other side of his desk. The paperwork lay abandoned in front of you, as you had far better things to look at than the ink on those pages.

Levi coughed and nearly dropped his pen at your sudden proclamation. His eyes had grown wider than usual, and he outright refused to look at you, acknowledge what you’d said.

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand” you spoke slowly, solemnly. “It’s just..you aren’t like anyone I’ve met before. You try so hard to shut people out with your harsh words and constant glaring, but you care far more than you let on. I think, I think you’re the first person in this damn regiment that actually gave a shit about me”

You noticed his knuckles had turned white with the force that he was gripping his pen.

The expedition was tomorrow; you might never get a chance to tell him this.

“Maybe in another life, maybe if we had more time, maybe….we could have loved each other” you pushed the seat out from under you, standing straight as a pin.

Once the words had left your lips to hang tensely in the air between you two, you were unable to gather enough nerve to look at him.

“I just wanted you to know that, in case something happens to me when we-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you” he rasped, head bowed over the page, pen still gripped in his hand.

“How can you be so sure?” you smiled sadly.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, because I….because I won’t let it”

The conviction laced in his words left no room for you to doubt him.

You’d done your duty, left with no regret about stopping to help that young cadet that had an entire life ahead of him.

But you did regret leaving behind the Captain, leaving him with your awkward confession and never, ever getting to find out what his lips tasted like.

As you fell into the titan’s mouth, you thought Levi probably tasted like the tea he drank.

Everything ached and burned when you came to. Your eyes blinked heavily at a dark ceiling, your lips parting slightly as the warmth from the sunlight streaming in soaked into your cold skin.

You must have been back home, back inside the walls. The thin, white sheets and itchy cot you were laying on was enough to know that. How could you have possibly made it back?

The titan ate you, didn’t it?

“I told you,” you jumped at the figure beside you, groaning as your body protested the sudden movement.

You turned your head slowly, shocked and incredibly relieved to see none other than the Captain himself sitting on a wooden chair beside your bed.

His body was hunched forward, arms folded over his knees and shoulders pulled forward. His eyes immediately softened when you smiled at him, and he let out a ragged breath.

“How?” was all you could manage to choke out. The familiar stirring in your chest had become an erratic rhythm of pounding and fluttering.

“I almost didn’t make it in time,” his gaze fell to his lap. “You were in its mouth by the time I made it to you. If I’d sliced its jaw open a moment later, you would have been down its throat” he squeezed his eyes shut, as if the memory was replaying before him.

You sucked in a breath, wondering just how far he’d gone to ensure your safety.

“You saved me….when anyone else would have thought it to be a lost cause. You didn’t give up on me..” you trailed off as your vision began to blur with unshed tears.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Just when you thought he’d take his leave, he spoke again.

“I don’t know what love feels like, but I know that I don’t want to fucking lose you”

All that brutal training, all those insults when you’d made careless mistakes, all those nights spent filling out paperwork at the same desk, they all finally had meaning.

How could you not have read the signs before? How could you have not noticed the subtle way he cared for you?

You reached a shaky hand forward, grasping his calloused one in a gentle caress.

“You don’t have to,” the promise in your eyes when he finally spared you a glance grounded him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stuttered, a fierce blush over his pale face. “I’ve never been good at this bullshit” he muttered.

“We can learn together..if you’d like to move forward with this” you bit at your lower lip, face hot and heart lodged in your throat.

Levi’s lips curved up into the tiniest smile you’d ever seen, but it was a smile nonetheless. A small victory.

“Fine, just…don’t tell Hange. They placed a bet with Erwin, and I don’t wanna give them the satisfaction of winning….”

** did tumblr always have this stupid word block limit bc that's whack. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible without being vague, hope y'all enjoyed !! **

[missymurphy1985]

Out of the Blue

*This was a request*

Warnings - smut / unplanned pregnancy / talk of abortion

I've used a fictional family for Cillian for this, names have been changed.

"That's it then," Cillian sighed, reading the letter from his solicitor, his friend Adam sitting opposite him in the kitchen of Cillian's new apartment in North Dublin. The Decree Nisi, his divorce from Kate now final. He felt a tinge of sadness, he couldn't help it, they'd spent most of their lives together and shared two teenage boys, but he couldn't forgive her cheating on him while he was away filming, the trust had left him completely.

"To a fresh start, Cill." Adam raised his bottle of beer to Cillian's pint of Guinness as they toasted, Ada ln trying to lighten the darkness in his best friend's eyes. "You're better off without her - now you can move on."

"Yeah no thanks, I'm done with women for a LONG time Ad, they're all the fucking same!" Cillian smiled, almost a laugh. "All I'm interested in now is the boys, they've been through one hell of a rollercoaster this last year."

"When are they coming to stay?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I've got them all weekend."

"Then tonight Mr Murphy I am taking you OUT! Come on, we can go check out that new bar in the city, there's a band on!" Cillian groaned, that was not his plan for this evening. All he wanted was his pyjamas, a good book and an early night. This wasn't lost on Adam. "I'm not taking no for an answer here, come on! It's been months since you went out, let's do this!"

"Adam please... Not tonight yeah? Maybe next week, or.."

"Enough! No! You're not moping any more, I'm taking to out and that's the end of it." Cillian rolled his eyes. Fuck it, arguing with Adam was pointless, he'd known this since high school.

Within an hour they were ready, both of them in jeans and Timberland boots, Cillian in a blue striped t shirt and Adam in a green one. Hair fixed, they headed out to the waiting taxi outside.

"The first sign of someone trying to take my picture, I'm out of there Adam..." Cillian dreaded the thought of being papped out on the town following his divorce. The papers just wanted a scoop on who he'd be sleeping with now he was freshly single and available. Adam nodded in agreement a deal, as the taxi pulled outside the bar.

******************************

Y/n woke up, her head pounding. Opening her eyes she looked around at her surroundings, not recognising a single thing.

"The fuck have you done this time y/n..." You groaned, rolling your eyes and sitting up gingerly, trying to stop the contents of your stomach from evacuating violently over the unfamiliar bedsheets. Glancing at the alarm clock, you groaned again. 8am... Why the hell was it so damn early.. and where the fuck was she?? She heard a door downstairs open and close, and froze. She wasn't alone. Footsteps up the stairs, she quickly hid back under the covers pretending to be asleep as she heard the bedroom door open and the pressure on the side of the bed as someone sat down next to her sleeping body.

"Hey.. you awake?" An Irish voice filled the silence, as the smell of fresh coffee found its way under the duvet you were hiding under. Clenching your eyes tightly together, you slowly pulled the duvet back and opened them, seeing the man you clearly spent the previous evening with. Your eyes found his.. my god they were so blue.. he was handsome.. bit older than you, maybe? You couldn't tell for sure. You definitely recognised him from somewhere other than last night though, maybe he went to uni with you?

"Um... Morning.. I uh -" you sat up, taking the coffee from his hand, thanking him.

"Did we -"

"Did we.."

You both spoke at the same time. Clearly neither of you remembering the night before. You smiled, he smiled, before you both burst out laughing.

"Fucking hell, how wasted were we? We can't even remember if we had sex or not? I've NEVER been that drunk.. listen I'm sorry, this isn't exactly a great morning after huh?" He took a sip of his coffee, blushing slightly.

"Hey this is not something I do regularly okay.." he shook his head agreeing, neither did he.

"Cillian." He offered you his hand to shake, still smirking. "Listen if you can't remember if we had sex, you definitely can't remember my name..." Your turn to blush now.

"Y/n. And no. I definitely don't remember. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm still fully clothed? I don't think we had sex then redressed, do you?" You laughed, showing him you were still wearing the top and jeans you had on last night.

The pair of you laughed in relief.. eyes meeting again as the tension finally left the room.

"I can drive you home whenever you're ready y/n. If you need to get back?" Cillian offered.

"Erm.. oh yeah.. that'd be great, thank you.. listen, would it be cheeky to ask for a shower, or..."

"Hey, no not at all! Just through there," he pointed to his en suite. "I'll fetch you a towel, take your time."

You smiled. Those beautiful blue eyes were captivating you completely, you couldn't drag your own eyes away. He couldn't take his own from yours either, that tension was back, but it was a different kind of tension this time. Neither of you could remember how you got here, but neither of you minded that it had happened.

"You.. I'll go have that shower, yeah?" You moved to stand but stumbled slightly, landing closer to Cillian. He didn't move. Your face was now a mere few inches from his. Those eyes, once again never leaving yours. Your core burned, glancing down you saw the obvious excitement in his trousers, causing you to groan quietly.

He leaned in slowly, lips brushing yours carefully. You couldn't stop yourself kissing him back, within seconds the kiss becoming heated, tongues colliding. He leaned you back down onto the bed, moving his body to cover your own. You couldn't stop yourself, it was as if you were moving in autopilot, everything inside your core was on fire, demanding more of this incredible man immediately.

He stopped kissing you and hovered over your face, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Are you sure about this y/n?" You nodded, and kissed him again hungrily, parting your legs as he fell between them, grinding his own hips against yours. You could feel his hard-on, and you bucked your hips against his.

"Please... Don't stop now... I need this.. even if I never see you again after this Cill, just let me.."

"Baby I don't do one night stands... I'm taking you for breakfast as soon as we're done. Deal?" You smiled, no that was probably a grin. Breakfast sounded damn good right now, but not as good as he'd feel buried inside you.

"Deal. Now fuck me.. please?"

"Your wish is my command." Clothes removed, he grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket (Adam bought them the night before, he remembered that part at least, him slipping a couple into his jeans pocket as Cillian protested he wasn't going to sleep with anyone that night anyway...) Slipping it on, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck... Cillian that's fucking it..." You raised your hips with each thrust, he buried his face into your neck, biting the skin and sucking it slightly. You could hear him moaning into your collarbone.

"Shit you feel good... So fucking tight y/n..."

"Harder... Cillian, harder..." Your nails scratched down his back - if he was marking you, you were absolutely marking him in return. His thrusts now came hard and fast, as your walls clenched around him, your body finding that sweet release you needed, you hands pulling his hair hard. He came immediately after you, with a low moan into your hair as he pulled it in return, both of you panting trying to catch your breath.

"Shit me... I wasn't expecting that.." Cillian eased himself out, catching the condom before throwing it on the floor by the bed. Collapsing next to you, he turned to face you.

"I'm sorry... I don't even know you and I'm fucking you.. this isn't me y/n, I mean it, I don't do this, I've NEVER done this before."

"Hey, you've never had a one time thing? Seriously?"

"I was married for 20years until last night y/n!" He laughed, causing you to smile too. Suddenly your smile dropped a little.

"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking.."

"42. You?"

"If I tell you, don't freak out yeah?"

"Y/n I know you're younger okay, just tell me. It's okay."

"24." His eyes widened, was that in horror? Shock? Disgust? You couldn't tell but it didn't look good...

"24?? Shit me... The press are gonna have a field day with this..." You sat up, suddenly extremely self conscious. Age was never an issue for you, you actually preferred an older man, but it clearly bothered him.

"The press?" You asked, confused. "Why on earth would they be bothered?"

Cillian looked at you. You looked back at him completely deadpan. Shit, you were serious.

"Google me. Cillian Murphy." You reached into your jeans pocket for your phone and typed his name.

"Oh shit..."

**********************************

"Y/n, you still with me?" Cillians voice floated through the screen, knocking you from your daydream. Filming over in England for Peaky Blinders, Skype calls were your norm now.

"What? Shit sorry, baby, I was in a world of my own then! What did you say?"

"I asked if that delivery had arrived from Amazon, those books I ordered? You ok?"

"What books? Oh, those.. erm yeah I think so, something arrived for you earlier anyway, I left it on the kitchen side for you for when you get home next week. At least I think I did..."

"What's going on with you? Are you okay? You haven't been yourself for a few days now, forgetting things? You left your keys at work the other day, your phone in your friend's car.. what's going on?" Truth be told, you had no idea. Since your chest infection four months ago, you'd lost the ability to adult. You and Cillian had moved into a new home on the outskirts of Dublin 4 months ago, that morning after being the start of a blossoming romance, that led to you moving in together within the space of 6 months. Everyone had something to say, especially his ex wife who was still telling everyone who'd listen that you were obviously sleeping together while Cillian was still married, obviously he traded her in for a younger model, obviously blah, blah, blah... Never mind the fact that SHE cheated on HIM, no mention of that... Luckily your friends and family saw past all of it, and welcomed the new relationship - seeing how good you two fitted together, it wasn't hard to see why. You were the gin to his tonic, exactly what you both needed without you knowing you needed it. But these last few months, you'd felt completely spaced out - not even you could deny it.

"That chest infection really knocked the wind out my sales Cill, I haven't been right since! My mind's gone to absolute mush! Maybe I'm just run down, I've got the rest of the week off now so I'll get some rest, I promise."

"Maybe book a doctor's appointment y/n, you should be over this by now, you took all your antibiotics, yeah?"

"Yep, every one, right on time. Babe I'm so tired! I can't explain it!"

"Hit the sack babe, get an early one. I'll call you tomorrow. Don't forget to make that appointment okay?" You agreed, eyes growing heavy. You told each other I love you before closing the call and heading straight to bed.

You left the doctor's appointment the following day with tears in your eyes. This couldn't be happening... You took out your phone to call Serena, your best friend.

Approaching her front door, she opened it and immediately held you as sobs racked your body. Taking you inside away from any prying paparazzi, she put the kettle on.

"He's gonna kill me Serena... This isn't supposed to happen! We agreed - this wasn't part of our plan!! What am I going to do? How could I have been so stupid?"

"This isn't your fault y/n.. and he is not going to kill you, okay?" Nausea overcame you and you ran to her downstairs toilet, your breakfast evacuating violently into the toilet bowl. Serena made you a glass of water. Your phone vibrated, Cillian's name appearing on the screen. You ignored it. Again. Three times he'd called, three times you ignored it.

"You have to tell him sooner or later, y/n..." Serena was at the door, glass of water in hand.

"How? How exactly do I tell the man who is adamant he wants no more children that I'm fucking pregnant Serena? And I'm already 13 weeks gone? How did I not know?" Sobs overcame you again, your phone vibrating a fourth time. This time, a voicemail was left. Shakily, you listened to it.

"Y/n what the fuck? Call me. Call me right now." He didn't sound happy - from just a few missed calls, that was a bit extreme! Once you'd calmed down, Serena left you alone in her kitchen while you called him back via WhatsApp, hands still shaking.

"Baby, what's going on?? Paul's just shown me a photo on Twitter of you leaving the doctors with tears in you eyes, what the hell is happening?" You cursed yourself.. fucking photographers everywhere!

"Babe, are you alone? And sitting down? Put your phone on video call." He did as you asked and you saw his panic-stricken face fill the screen as you settled your phone on the counter. He saw your pale, tear-stained face and turned a shade of white.

"Y/n what is it?"

"I went to the doctor's -"

"I know that, y/n..."

"Look, this is easier if you don't interrupt me, yeah?" He nodded an apology and sat back, arms folded. "So that chest infection.. I had to take antibiotics. And it would appear that antibiotics... Well.. they render the pill completely useless and -" his eyes widened as he listened to you.

"The fuck are you saying y/n?"

"I'm pregnant, Cillian. 13 weeks." You closed your eyes, waiting for him to scream at you. Shout at you. Curse you. But he said nothing. Silence. Complete radio silence. You opened your eyes, tears threatening to fall any second. "Well fucking say something Cill!"

"I... I don't... Fuck y/n... This is a joke, right? You're joking? It's April 1st and you're having me on, yeah?"

"No, Cillian, it's July 15th and I am not FUCKING JOKING!!" The tears fell freely now, how much of an arsehole could he be. You saw him stand up and walk across the room out of view and your tears fell harder. Serena re-entered the room hearing your sobs but you waved her back. Composing yourself..

"Cillian... Cillian are you still there? Cillian?!" He came back into view and sat back down, eyes wet. He was crying.

"I'm sorry.. baby I'm sorry I didn't mean.." choking his words, so many emotions running through his mind. Another wave of nausea saw you suddenly dash out of view to throw up in the toilet again. All he saw was you run.

"Y/n?? Baby?? Where you going??" Serena came into view.

"Cill she's fine - it's morning sickness. She's okay don't worry." Cillian breathed a sigh of relief seeing your best friend there, at least you weren't alone.

"Listen, go take care of her yeah, tell her to call me when she's feeling okay.. and tell her I love her. We'll be okay. Everything will be okay, I promise." Serena smiled, nodding her head, ending the call, making her way back to you, still wretching into the bowl.

*************************************

"How are you feeling?" Cillians voice helped to ease the pain. Your morning sickness had subsided, at least for the last couple of days. Your bump appeared out of nowhere once you'd found out you were pregnant, but with the sudden change in your body came changes you really didn't appreciate - your pelvis was agony. Since you hit the 7 month mark, it felt like it was on fire daily.

"Like dogshit. Like my hips want to cripple me. This is hell Cillian, I miss you so much!" You started to cry again, Cillian feeling completely helpless. He'd already missed so much of this precious time filming, neither of you able to come home or visit due to Covid restrictions and y/n having a high risk pregnancy. Severe morning sickness, coupled now with severe pelvic girdle pain, doctors had signed you off on sick until your maternity leave kicked in in 6 weeks time. You couldn't walk now without crutches, relying on friends and family to bring you groceries. You were beginning to resent your own baby, which made you feel even worse.

"I'm on the first flight home tomorrow morning, we wrapped filming up a month early so I could come home sooner. I wanted to surprise you, but I'm shit at surprises!" He chuckled, causing you to giggle too. You perked up, still lay on the sofa like a bloated whale but at least you were smiling now.

"Really? You'll be home tomorrow?"

"Flight lands at 7am. I'll be home by 7:45. And I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I've cleared my schedule. Nothing coming up, no press, no interviews, I'm completely yours and the baby's for the foreseeable future. I promise." Tears fell again, but this time, happy ones. He'd be home in less than 12 hours. One more sleep, and he'd be home.

*************************************

"Come on y/n... You can do this!" You gripped Cillians hand hard as another contraction rippled painfully across your abdomen. Why the fuck did you refuse the epidural? What the hell were you thinking??

"I can't... I can't do it... Cillian I've been doing this for hours I can't..... Aaaaahhhhhh!" You screamed as your body took over and you bore down. The midwife ordering you to push.

"You can, you can baby, come on... She's nearly here! So close now, just a little longer..." He breathed with you, patting your head with a cold flannel to cool you down. Another contraction, another push...

Suddenly the room erupted with a baby's loud cry, swiftly followed by your own. Cillians eyes watered as your daughter was lifted in the air, still attached by the umbilical cord. Cillian cut it, taking your daughter into his arms. It was already decided he would hold your baby first, after all, you'd been carrying her for 9 months! You choked, seeing him holding your baby for the first time, as he carried her over to you to hold to your chest.

"She's here... She's beautiful.. look at her eyes Cillian!" Ocean blue, just like his.

"She has your nose y/n... My god she's perfect..." He kissed your head gently, openly sobbing now and not caring in the slightest. He thanked you. He thanked you for bringing his daughter safely into the world, for going through hell during the worst pregnancy you could've imagined..

"All worth it... Every second.. but I'm never doing this again Cillian.. I mean it, never again." You glared at him then at the scissors on the table, then down at his groin.

"Fuck off, y/n, I'm not having anyone snipping anything down there..."

"Looks like a life of celibacy then Murphy, that's the only logical conclusion."

"I'll book an appointment next week." You smirked. Very rarely did you not get your own way, and now he had two girls against him, he knew he'd never get his OWN way ever again.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Taglist:

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0

[happytroopers]

Sick days // Hunter x reader

My google history search after this: what do they call toilets in Star Wars? Star Wars rabies?

Summary: I would do anything for Hunter, even take care of him when he has food poisoning. I saw a sick day prompt list and didn't end up using anything but it inspired this cluster fuck

TW: throwing up, alcohol mention but no use, bad writing I just love him ok

"Hey, have you seen Hunter? I need him to sign off on some damage reports." You announced as you entered the cockpit of the ship as it barreled through hyperspace, throwing a pointed look at Wrecker who was the main reason for most of aforementioned damage reports.The other members of Clone Force 99 made some sort of acknowledgment of your existence. Wrecker grinned obliviously at you as continued doing bicep curls with a GONK droid while Tech made brief eye contact with you before going back to some sort of machinery he’d dissected. Crosshair was the only one to actually somewhat answer your question, giving you a sassily quirked eyebrow and motioning down with his toothpick. "I’m assuming that super vague motion would mean he’s in the cargo hold?" You pressed but you had already turned around to go find the sergeant. "Should we tell ‘er?" You heard Wrecker ask but when no one answered him, you assumed things would be fine. Besides after almost a year with the Bad Batch, you’d walked in on them in all sorts of compromising moments. Nothing would surprise you anymore.

After popping down the ladder into the cargo bay, you did a cursory sweep. Crosshairs rifle was disassembled on a crate for cleaning, more of Tech’s mechanical experiments in a heap by the bay doors, your own trunk of belonging… but no sign of Hunter. "Hunter? Are you down here?" You poked a little further into the sleeping quarters, like any room that housed four soldiers who didn’t know how to mop, the smell chased you right back out. Shaking your head you thought to yourself, That should be considered a hazard zone. You paused by the fresher to listen for water running but heard nothing, which officially meant Hunter hadn’t been anywhere you checked, Hell, did he jump out of an airlock? Just as you were about to give up, you heard an awful noise come from the fresher. Like a bantha dying in a fire. Did some animal stow away? Absentmindedly you considered getting Wrecker to handle it- the last thing you needed was contracting some planet-specific strain of rabies. But then you considered that in the process, Wrecker would probably destroy the entire bathroom. And then everyone would be without a bathroom for the next two days… and that could get ugly. Then the noise came again, bringing you out of your mental debate. With a heavy sigh, you decided you’d have to check it out yourself. So, after pulling a random tool off your belt, you let the door slide open. To your surprise, Hunter was the first thing you saw, bent at the waist over the vac tube, bracing himself with one shaking arm against the durasteel wall. His helmet was discarded carelessly two feet closer to the entrance, and the enhanced trooper was heaving breaths, looking rather haggard. Almost stupidly the first thing that came out of your mouth was, "Oh my God, did the animal do this to you?" Hunter actually startled, which had never happened before. He was impossible to sneak up on, it was his whole thing. When he did look up at you, he looked confused, among other things. His skin pallor was four shades lighter than it was supposed to be, slightly greenish gray, and dew dropped with sweat. "Animal? What animal?" "The animal that made that-" You cut yourself off suddenly feeling dumb, now lamely dropping your defense tool. Then the disbelief, "Oh my- that noise was you?" He didn’t get the chance to answer again, instead turning his head back towards the vac tube to wretch again. Now with that information, the haggard appearance made more sense. "Hunter… you look like shit." You scolded, hesitantly moving closer, “Like, legitimately corpse like.” The sergeant coughed a bit before throwing you glare, “Thank you, (Y/L/N), that’s very helpful. Did you need something?” Damage reports long forgotten, you ignored the question instead more concerned with the trooper in front of you, “Why the hell are you standing like that? What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

Hunter was confused with this sudden line of questioning, turning his head to gag a little bit but this time he kept it under control to answer you, “Clones don’t get sick.”

“So this is normal for you?” You snarked right back, “Here, try kneeling, it won’t take as much of a toll on your body like that.”

At first he didn’t listen to you, just when the ship hit a patch of turbulence it triggered another wave which forced him to a knee. Then it hit you, clones don’t get sick, they’re engineered with near perfect immune systems.

“You’ve never been sick before have you?” You whispered sympathetically, he legitimately didn’t know how to handle being sick. Frowning, worried welled up in your stomach. It was almost painful to watch the man be so sick, after all how many times had he saved you or helped you out of a tight spot, so you looked away until he quieted again. This time he took a minute to catch his breath so you took some liberties.

“First, let’s get your hair off your neck and face. You’ll feel less gross.” You promised, going behind him to gently scrape his long hair into a makeshift bun and tie it off with a spare hair tie.

“What are you doing?”  He croaked, but didn’t pull away from your hands.

“Taking care of you, now shut up and let me.” While your voice was still kind, you were just stern enough not to argue with you, “Now, lean up.”

You didn’t wait for him to follow the orders, instead you started unfastening pieces of armor on his arms before moving on to the chest and torso pieces. Moments later he was able to move a little freer and his armor from the waist up was neatly stacked to you right.

“There, that should help with the overheating.” You announced, not mentioned how he couldn’t bend over properly with a piece of plastoid against his abdomen. You gave him another once over, he was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed, little baby hairs already escaping your rather pitiful man bun situation. You’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“So clones don’t get sick, why are you throwing up like my roommate after her twenty first birthday?” You asked quietly, gently moving the stray bits of his forehead.

“Would you believe that I ate an expired meal ration?” He asked with enough doubt in your voice that you immediately shook your head.

“You’re not that stupid Hunter.”

“I lost a bet with Crosshair and had to eat part of the Yalbec stinger. Tech did say it was a delicacy on some planets.” He sighed, dry heaving again.

“I also remember him saying it was mildly poisonous to humans.” You reminded him, going past him to the shelves that held shower things. Reaching into your own caddy, you produced a rag before wetting it in the sink.

“Yeah, I lost the bet before he enlightened us.” Hunter admitted, visibly relaxing when you put the cold rag on his neck before sliding into a sitting position next to him, “How do you know all this stuff?”

“Well, us normies get sick a lot.” You teased, laughing when you caught the disgusted look on his face, “But, I learned most of this stuff taking care of my hungover friends.”

“Oh, just your friends?” It was Hunter’s turn to sass you, but you just rolled your eyes. The two of you fell into a halfway comfortable silence, so you took your data pad to do a little research on Yalbec poisoning.

“You don’t have to stay for this?” Hunter reminded you, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead. When you looked back over to him, he was staring at you. Even when puking, his eyes could stare straight through you. Hurriedly, you dropped your gaze back to your data pad.

“Well, you spend all your time taking care of them,” you motioned up towards the cockpit, “And me. So someone has to look out for you when you need it, you don’t have to suffer alone.”

His eyes softened as he relaxed slightly, you were glad to see his coloring was already getting better. But after a few moments, even the softness of his stare brought a flush to your cheeks so you just cleared your throat, “Well, the good news is that the holonet says someone of your size and weight will be fine. Symptoms should pass within twelve hours at the most, and it’s already been five.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

Your head snapped back up, he rarely ever called you by your first name. Somehow it almost felt intimate.

“Of course, Hunter.”

You scooted a little closer so that your knees would touch. Closer than you had ever been to him, but he didn’t scoot away. You smiled at the small contact, shaking your head.

“Can I impart on you a bit of civilian wisdom?” You asked teasingly, not even waiting him to nod. You took the rag off his neck and used it to dab sweat off his forehead, “Don’t eat random things on a dare, especially things you cut off foreign animals.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

[mizunetzu]

Hi! I love your writing and I wanted to know if you could do one where the reader is trans masc and their dad is aizawa And no of 1a knows (except aizawa) until someone who went to school with them starts bullying them, and publicly outs them. And so aizawa makes a really big deal, and accidentally mentions that the reader is his kid, But everyone in 1a supports them and are more shocked when they find out their dad is aizawa. Thank you!!!! I know it's weird I just want validation tbh (´-﹏-`；)

Hi hi hi !! I wasn’t sure if this ask requested male pronouns (bc of the use of the word ‘trans masc’) or GN pronouns (bc of the use of the word ‘they’ across the request) feel free to educate me on that!! But for now, I used Male Pronouns!

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Platonic! Aizawas trans male kid gets outed

⚠️warnings - mentions of outing, deadnaming, me antagonizing shindo bc haha I needed a bad guy-

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Loading off the bus, (Y/n) stretched his arms and let out a huff. He rubbed at his eyes, and activated his quirk slightly to see if it still worked. It wasn’t like it was going to go away, but it became habit to see if he could still do it after a long time or not. A useless habit, you could say.

Though, it was important he still had his quirk, since today was the day he was going to take the Provincial Licensing Exam. Along with his classmates.

(Y/n) strolled around the area, being sure not to stray too far away from his own class and bus. There seemed to be many schools here. Most of them, upperclassmen. (Y/n) swallowed the lump in his throat and stalked up to Kirishima to calm his nerves.

Kirishima spotted him, giving him a curt slap on the back. (Y/n) coughed, adjusting his hero costumes chest area.

“Yo! Aren’t you excited for this thing? Whaddya think we’re gonna do?”

(Y/n) let out a timid laugh, his voice noticeably deep, but almost borderline androgynous. Like he was trying to force it to go lower than it naturally was. An ear perked up from somewhere behind (Y/n). “Yeah, I’m getting kinda pumped u-“

“Well-I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

That sickeningly sweet voice made (Y/n) scrunch up his nose. He didn’t turn around. Nevertheless, the voice kept going. “Eh, well, that’s a lie. Your face was practically plastered everywhere on tv.”

“Tell me-how’s it feel to go to the famous UA, Sayaka-chan?”

(Y/n) kept his eyes fixated on the ground, still facing Kirishima as he looked between the two, confused.

“Uh-I think you got the wrong guy, dude. This dudes well...a dude.”

“Mm?” The boy was taken aback, before smirking and leaning next to (Y/n’s) ear. He said, rather loudly, “You didn’t tell them, Sayaka?”

“Shut up, Shindo.” (Y/n) voice was quiet. It wasn’t as deep as it was ‘normally’, but it sounded very much less strained. Kirishima seemed to catch on, though he said nothing, out of respect. Though, Shindo did the exact opposite.

“Don’t be so rude, Yaka-chan! I’m just saying hi to my old friend!” Shindo turned to Kirishima, as the UA students started noticing their little show. That-and a scruffy man, who was now completely ignoring what Ms Joke was saying to turn his ears on hyperfocus. “Don’t mind her. I guess she’s on her period today or something.”

“Ne-what’s happing here? Do you know (Y/n)-kun or something?” Mina said. (Y/n) cringed at hearing his name. He knew Shindo was going to say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-

“(Y/n)? That’s the name Sayaka-chan goes by these days?”

His seemingly friendly smile made (Y/n) want to puke. Mina titled her head. “Sayaka? You probably have the wrong person. This is (Y/n).”

Shindo turned to (Y/n), his dirty, smug glare being hidden behind a innocent, confused smile. “You really didn’t tell them, Sayaka?”

Shindo took a deep breath in. (Y/n) pursed his lips. “Don’t fucking-“

“Sayaka here,” Shindo slung an arm around the boy. “She’s a crossdresser. She’s ‘trans’. Isn’t that great?”

(Y/n) noticeably stiffened, biting his lip harshly and keeping his eyes pointed harshly at the ground like it was the only way to keep tears from flowing. He clenched his knuckles in embarrassment.

Before (Y/n), Mina, or Kirishima could say something, a hunched over, dark figure placed a hand on Shindo’s shoulder. His nice boy smile dropped. Aizawa, uncharacteristically, looked like he was seething.

“Shindo. Kid. Get away from my son. Before I find your teacher.”

Kirishimas eyes widened while Mina gasped. Son? Shindo bit back a snarl. He smiled irritably and put his sweet tone back on. “What? I’m just talking to Sayaka-chan-“

“His name is (Y/n). If you really want to be a hero, I suggest not being a nuisance to my son or any of my students.” Aizawa grumbled.

Shindo scoffed. “I’m sorry I offended you, mr...scruffy man. I’m not sure which son you’re talking about, though. Don’t you have a daughter-?”

Aizawa reached for his capture weapon, eyes glaring a Ruby red. Shindou was about to lurch forward when Ms Joke stepped in between the two. She huffed, turning to Shindo first.

“Shindo-kun, should you be changing into your hero costume about now? Go do that! The class already went ahead without you!”

Shindo gasped, his persona back on like a mask. “Oh! That’s right! I’m sorry Miss! See you guys! Do your best!”

Shindo turned to (Y/n), in a low whisper. “See you, Sayaka.” And timpered off. Ms Joke turned to Aizawa.

“And you!” She put her arms on her hips. “Just because your kid’s being teased a bit doesn’t mean you have to reach for your weapon!”

Aizawa seemingly let go of his scarf he’d been clutching for a while now. His hair flopped down and framed his face once more. “He wasn’t teasing. He’s been bullying my son since his 2nd year of middle school.”

(Y/n) was awkwardly standing behind Aizawa. Since they had no intention of bringing him in personally to the conversation, he shoved his hands into his pockets. It was then he noticed the majority of 1A staring at him.

He paled. Flashbacks of Shindo publicly outing him whipped by his mind, along with the way he hid his disgusted glare when he came out as trans initially in his 2nd year of middle school. It was his third year and (y/n’s) second year, Shindo being one of (y/n’s) closest friends until he became a ‘crossdresser’.

Were his new UA classmates going to to treat him the same? Would all the girls and boys be hesitant to undress themselves with him nearby, because he’s a “lesbian/girl perving on the guys”? Was he going to have to mend all of these relationships from the start again? A bottomless pit dug into his stomach. He didn’t want that.

Stagnant air filled the atmosphere as everyone stared at (y/n). Already thinking of excuses, explanations, anything, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I-“

“You’re Aizawa’s son?!” Kaminari yelled, pointing a finger at (y/n). (Y/n) blinked, letting out a confused “eh?”

Mina popped in, flailing her arms in the air like Iida, but less stiff. “Dude! That’s so cool! You think you can tell him to round my 48 into a 90 from last weeks quiz?!”

Slowly but surely, his classmates started crowding around him, all talking at once. There were “Ohh-I can see the resemblance now!”s and “dude how are you still alive?!”s. Everyone seemed to forget what Shindo was talking about.

(Y/n) stood silent. “You guys...aren’t going to mention it?”

Most everyone stopped talking. Sero stepped forward. “Does it really matter? Your still our classmate, man. Plus, Aizawas your fuckin’ dad.”

Murmurs of agreement mused out from the surrounding crowd of UA students. (Y/n) smiled, attempting to answer every question about him or Aizawa as possible.

Ms Joke whistled from far away. Aizawa sleepily lolled his head towards her away from watching his son carefully, seeing if any students acted rudely in anyway.

“So your class didn’t know he was...y’know.”

“Mm.” Aizawa hummed. “Though, they seem to be more interested in him being my son than him not being ‘born a son’. M’glad that they’re bothering him instead of me. But knowing them, they’ll probably ask me some things after the exam.”

“I’m not meaning this in any mean way, but,” Ms Joke was oddly serious. “How are you so fine with this...change? It’s not like I’m saying it’s wrong, no, but you accepted it rather quickly and his transition happened pretty much overnight.”

“Does it really matter if he’s a boy or a girl or not? He’s still a pain in the ass. You don’t need a specific gender to be a problem child. As long as he’s keeping up with hero training and classes, I don’t really care.”

Aizawas eyes betrayed his words. They were dry, as usual, but they observed his students every move, every word they throw at his kid like he was stalking his prey. Like he was subtly saying “Say one misgendering thing, and I’ll expel you.”

In the end, Aizawa was a big softie. His child was happy, and that was fine by him. And, he’s less to deal with when he’s happy. His words, not mine. Ms Joke sighed, knowing her answer, and faced forward.

“Go out with me!”

“Go to hell.”

——————

I’m sorry for assigning a ‘dead name’ in this fic; and I’m sorry if this fic was actually a they/them one!! Sincerest apologies :(