#+ someone probably heard me at this point so i could easily get suspected again

[cyber444angel]

hey yea so i realized that i should rlly try to stop w/bingeing & purging bc damn today was so awful :)

[imtherain]

Smeared Lipstick

Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.

This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol

Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!

Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.

Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

“Hit me,” 

The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.

“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.

“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.

“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How your hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.

You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.

“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty.  Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.

“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.

“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.

“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away. 

Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.

But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.

“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,” 

“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you were a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You could also see how lucky someone was, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.

“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.

“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk. 

You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.

“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.

“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.

“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions. 

“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.

You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.

“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.

“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You pressed as he stepped forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips moved against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.

“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,” 

“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel far enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,” 

“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.

“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.

“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.

He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.

“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.

“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy. 

Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.

You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.

Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.

With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.

You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.

When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.

Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.

You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.

Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.

Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air. 

Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good one.

“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.

“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,” 

“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.

“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.

“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,” 

“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You took another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he was compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.

You kissed the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.

The second time was always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he would let out those grunting noises you love so much.

And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.

You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.

The noise Logan makes is something you wished you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.

Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.

Logan never lasted long with your fingers in his ass.

You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.

Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.

“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,” 

“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.

“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.

“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.

Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.

“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.

“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.

You liked it when he was gentle.

When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss. 

But he knew better than that. 

You both did.

You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.

“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.

“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,” 

“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.

“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.

“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.

You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.

“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.

“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,” 

“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,” 

You were about to give in entirely when the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were still at work.

“Fuck… Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he just dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.

You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.

“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”

You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.

“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.

“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.

It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.

“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,” 

You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.

“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,” 

“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckled in your ear as he finally pulled his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groaned at the loss of him, but hummed in pleasure when you watched him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teased.

“Oh shush,” You stood and adjusted yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,” 

“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said, like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.

“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chided. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,” 

“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious? 

“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.

And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

[mschievousx]

i wish you love | a.h.

pairing: aaron hotchner x ofc

summary: francesca sainz knows her interests. she likes the dark, crime, profiling, medicine, military, guns, and suits. imagine her surprise when these things come as a person... granted, a "fourty-something unit chief" person, but a person nonetheless.

series masterlist

ii. two: give your heart

visiting the victims' houses, jj conversed with the family as the two opted to observe the area. ridiculously to franz, she did not expect for the first victim to have an unholy amount of frames. photos like hers and/or the whole family's littered their home.

beyond that, there were also framed certificates, movie posters, letters, decors, and... paintings. the young trainee neared the monotoned painting. at first, it was out of the beauty of the art. however, as she stepped closer and closer, the painting had a handprint—one that most would miss since it was placed in the far end of the scene.

sainz walked to morgan, her steps hiding the urgency so as to not cause alarm. once beside him, she divulgrded her findings, prompting the man to call for garcia.

"pen, check the purchases of the victims. did they all buy paintings?"

the rapid typing of the tech analyst can be heard over the call, "yeps, all from magnum art gallery. location sent, my beloveds."

they uttered their thanks, now signaling for jj to wrap it up. in a single blink of an eye, they are already inside the car, derek stirring the wheel. he called for the team from his phone, passing it to jj after informing the team of their destination.

"we're going to the magnum art gallery. all the victims bought paintings there."

"coincidence?" rossi's voice resounded in the car. the team now listening attentively at their breakthrough.

francesca sat at the back, leaning forwards and placing her arms at both seats in front—which was probably not safe but that's not the point right now. she puckered her lips in thinking, staring ahead on the road.

"i don't think so. genius, please mark the gallery in the map for me."

in the station, reid placed a pin, moving backwards to observe the map in the glass board.

jj's voice came through their phone, "i think she's on to something. the profile says white male in his late 20s, average, introverted, not muscular but not necessarily weak, and in art-related work."

"he does not care about us. he acts as if we're not in the picture. he's solely focused on the girl these victims are posing as surrogates." hotch spoke his observations aloud, eyes on the glass board as well as he try to figure out the significance of the locations. the rest of the team in the station went over the profile.

sensing the thoughtfulness from the other line as their chief continued to discuss elements of the case before pausing once again, francesca grinned mischievously.

"what do i get if i'm right?"

derek scoffed after hearing that while jj offered a small smile as she held the phone in the middle to the girl.

"an apprehended suspect and a saved victim." hotch humorlessly answered, facing the glass board in analysis.

"so serious," she replied with a grin in her voice and a slight hum, "how about a kiss?"

before she could even say she was joking, the phone sounded, signaling that the call has been ended. the car filled with chuckles despite the case, the girl looking at the bright side and morgan giving her a reality check.

"well, that was not a no."

"yeah, that was a fuck off."

sooner, they finally arrived at the gallery, conversing to the manager immediately. the gallery was already closing, and sainz never would have guessed she would be thankful for derek's looks ever until that very moment.

the manager was swept off her feet, easily revealing information and anything they asked, almost never batting an eye to the two girls. from her, they learned that the victims indeed bought the paintings from the gallery. she remembers because they all coincidentally bought the artworks of someone she was previously doubting, even rejecting the paintings numerous times before.

the trio gave her the profile, asking if she knows anyone that would fit it but to no avail. she did let it slip that there was one who fits it the closest, yet suddenly shrugged the thought because of one problem—she was a woman.

they glanced at each other, beckoning the manager to continue. she revealed that the artist, clara, was not one to stay in the gallery for long up until she met a friend. it was tracy—trix—trisha... she could not remember her name. luckily, it did not slip her mind that the friend bought a painting a week ago, and checked the records.

the manager pouted at the thought of a fallout, mentioning that the two haven't been in the gallery for days when they were always seen together every other day.

with that, it was clear as water. they bolted to the car, ringing the team with serious urgency now. morgan slammed his foot on the pedal as franz held the phone, speaking with intensity at once when the call went through.

"the unsub is a woman, have garcia pull up records of clara hayes and trisha matten."

after being patched to garcia, she worked her magic and pulled out all information. jj nodded in confirmation, catching the team up, "clara hayes is the unsub."

"we're now going to her place." derek informed, stirring from corners to corners. hotch's ears perked up at that, turning to the phone immediately in firmness.

"morgan, wait for backup."

he did not reply, knowing that he will comoletely do the opposite of what his chief instructed. franz clutched the phone, "mark their addresses on the map. am i right in assuming it's the law's scales of justice?"

reid pinned them all on the map, the team gathering in the front in realization. emily placed their thoughts in reality, "trisha is a lawyer."

they all turned for the doors, instructing the station chief along the way for backup. hotch took a hold of the phone and ordered strictly as he opens the car door.

"jj, we are coming. do not engage."

he closed his eyes in frustration as the three refused to affirm his commands, clicking his tongue with unease. he addressed the young lady, coming to terms with what they're doing, ending the call immediately.

"sainz, stay in the car."

 · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

clara's house was organized with not a single object out of order aside from a single quirky stuffed toy in the living room—that and the two women bound to a chair.

she turned to the one without a tape on her mouth and spoke in a whining tone, "trish, you need to choose. you're a lawyer. you'd know if she deserves it or not."

trisha leaned forwards against the bind as she sobbed, taking breaths in between, "no, claire, please stop this."

"look at her!" clara exclaimed with a slamming gesture to jana, the missing woman, "she's.... ugh! why are you all so blinded by men? they're good for nothing!"

after her outburst, she neared the latter, crouching down as she placed her hands on her waist before turning to the lawyer, "you know, the waist is an art, intimately accentuating the curves."

"should i kill her and relieve her of the pain?" she wondered aloud. trisha refused to answer, closing her eyes intensely as she continued to sob. she stood back up at that, irritation starting to kick in, "but i need her to finish the art. look at the map, trish! it shows passion and commitment, doesn't it?"

she pointed towards the map on the wall, trisha completely not caring about it. the suspect raised her handgun to jana, pressing the muzzle against her forehead, "just finishing touches, love."

"drop the gun, clara."

morgan's voice resounded in the room, prompting the woman mentioned to clutch the girl, holding her as hostage, "don't come closer or i will shoot her!"

"put down your gun." derek tried once again, muscles tensed as he waits for any sudden movement.

"release jana. she has nothing to do with this. you wanted trisha to see your artwork, right? the scale symbol in the map." jj appealed, aiming to diffuse the tension and tame the suspect, "it must not have been easy to do. right, trisha?"

the woman got what she was trying to do, sobbing her words out, "yes... it—it's wonderful."

"see? it's already amazing in trisha's eyes. you don't need to do this now, clara." she turned back to her, tone pleading for a bloodless night.

"put down the—"

the man's words were cut off when clara suddenly pushed the woman in her grasp to them in desperate attempt to get away.

outside the house, the trainee called garcia, clearly bothered as to what could have possibly triggered the suspect, her first step being the fight the two had.

"pen, did the victims have criminal records?"

garcia's fingers flew from one key to another, replying almost immediately, "my sweet munchkin, no, they don't. however, they all filed complaints against their partners."

the bouncing of the trainee's foot from the backseat of the car stopped abruptly, "surely trisha's not the lawyer of the four? we wouldn't miss something as obvious as that."

"correctamundo. they're all under different law firms, but that's our girl's specialization."

franz's mouth formed an 'o' in realization. clara was not looking for friendship and this completely went over trisha's head ,"so this is about sexual orientation then."

"she wants trisha to see how awful men are." penelope agreed, nodding from quantico.

"no, she already knows that. that's what her cases are." sainz narrowed her eyes, a realization coming to her, "clara's no longer trying to open trisha's eyes. she's now furious that she still goes for men despite knowing it so well."

before the team's tech genius could reply, two gunshots rang in the middle of the night. the girl sat up straight at that, peering through the window to the house.

"franz... what was that?"

adrenaline began to kick in her body, her mind running miles over what to do. she reached in the compartment, taking the extra gun they always leave inside the car for precautions and checked the magazine, grateful it is loaded.

"i gotta go."

"no, no, stay there! they're near! hotch and the team is—"

francesca stepped out of the car, gun in hand. garcia's pleas went to deaf ears as she turned the phone off and pocketed it, nearing the house with haste at the gravity of the situation.

seeing from the outside that jj was okay and was helping the two other women, the trainee turned to where the suspect and morgan's figures disappeared to. she bit her lips in contemplation before ultimately groaning, chasing after the two. hotch can scold her after, derek might not be safe.

and, rightly so. because as she rounded the corner, morgan was on the floor with a gun aimed to his head.

franz took slow steps, gun trailed to the back of clara's head as she instructed in a leveled tone, "drop the gun."

the girl moved around derek, facing the two with the gun still to the man. sainz narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing the situation and the best course of action, "there's nothing else you can do. this is the end."

"come close and i'll shoot him."

"do not tempt me. i hate that fucker." her eyes relaxed, settling on a risky strategy, "men are always stupid, both emotionally and intellectually incompetent."

she scoffed at the trainee's attempt while morgan's starting to get alarmed on what she was doing, "did you think i'll fall for whatever you're doing?"

"not at all, but i still believe spilling blood is unnecessary here."

that irked the suspect. she was like the others— saving men even though they are good for nothing aggressors.

clara squinted her eyes, clutching her head for a bit, "this then that then this then that. shut up!"

franz made it a point to make her voice sound passive-aggressively mocking, "something against men?"

she refused to answer. her hands clutched the handgun harder, glaring intensely to the man.

"oh, you're..." the trainee trailed off, taunting the girl.

"i'm what?" she called out, eyes never leaving the man on the floor.

derek crossed his brows on whatever she was doing, his words pointed, "franz, stop."

"a lesbian," she ignored the man, going with her way, "you know that would incur the wrath of god, right? a woman is made for a man."

"shut up." clara muttered lowly, her hand pushing the gun forward.

"you're a lesbian and a moron. it's not in the bible. it's explicably said in john 3:27-34, thou my child—"

"shut up!"

clara turned to francesca, the gun aimed to the agent on the floor now trailed to the young lady. morgan reacted right away, yet it was clear he cannot push the suspect before she shoots.

her finger pulled on the trigger, but before the gun's mechanism could work, the trainee fired her shot, the sound filling the otherwise peaceful street.

she dropped on the floor, gun clattering with her. sainz neared them as she gestured to her teammate, inquiring about his state, "you good?"

the agent nodded, the other crouching down to feel for a pulse. franz looked at derek, her head shaking to confirm the suspect's status.

 · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

"i am not in shock."

the youngest grumbled at the shock blanket draped over her shoulders as she sat behind the ambulance.

derek tried to be comforting, but he was just... derek, "you just killed a person."

"she was aiming a gun at you." francesca argued, glaring to the very man she saved just moments ago.

jj and emily walked to the two with spencer asking, "how are you feeling?"

"i'm starting to feel tired. i did not expect that much adrenaline." she leaned her head sidewards against the vehicle.

"where did you whip up the bible verse from? i thought you're a... what do you call it... an agnostic?"

franz looked at the man, trying to hide the smirk in her face, "it's not real. i don't even know what's written in the verses i said."

emily crossed her arms at that, tone going pitchy than usual, "you lied?"

"i had to aggravate her," she sighed heavily before laughing at the thought that entered her mind, "a lesbian and a moron... i don't know where i got that from."

they all chuckled at that, the line sounding like somebody they used to know. jj smiled warmly at her safety, "we've talked about it before. gideon would love you."

"the previous unit chief?"

"you'd bond over insulting unsubs." the liaison turned profiler continued with a laugh. she grinned at that. it wouldn't be so bad to be acknowledged by him.

and just as how fast they shared their laughter, it was as fast when they quieted down, noticing hotch approaching them with rather determined steps.

the team already knows what this is about as they all stepped back slowly, franz sitting up from her leaning and taking a grasp of morgan's shirt as he was the closest. her wide eyes were gesturing at him as she mouthed dont go in repeat, even using the i saved you card humorly.

however, no amount of begging would make them stay with her, especially with the stern look that's sporting his features.

with no one nearby, her chief's eyes pierced through her, a series of scolding waiting to happen. he looks hot though. she'll give him that.

"that was purely reckless. how hard is it to follow my orders?" his voice was firm, yet it was calm and contained as usual, also considering that they're in public.

she looked at him directly, explaining her case, "hotch, there were gunshots. i had to do something."

"i explicitly told you to stay in the car," he crossed his arms, reminding her that he can fire her anytime, "just tell me if you're not ready to follow my lead and you can stop all these nonsense at once."

"i did stay!" she opened her mouth to defend her actions further but ultimately settled with a sigh, "i'm sorry."

"by putting yourself in danger, you're putting the whole team in danger," he continued to chide, now focusing on the team's welfare beyond his authority, "sainz, we do not move alone. this is a team."

"i know. it was a circumstantial decision." she looked away from him, watching the busy officers walking back-and-forth around the scene.

"you could have went to assist the women and let jj chase them."

"it would take time—time we did not have seeing as i arrived with clara aiming to derek already." franz tiredly made her point. this was almost similar to those ethical dilemmas people ask each other for fun. hotch sighed, acknowledging that the girl is exhausted after all that transpired.

"do not do this again." he waited for her affirmation, a response at the very least. of course, she gave none. aaron closed his eyes, trying to contain his irritation as he called for her attention pointedly, "sainz."

knowing that the girl is unlikely to reply and acknowledge what he said, he took a step back, turning away for a moment as if to gather his thoughts.

he looked at her appearance and observed her state more closely now, him speaking in a softer voice, yet still with gruffness, "how are you?"

"not fine." franz returned to her leaning, staring blankly ahead.

"how do you feel?"

"i don't know." she just wanted to sleep. it was a very confusing night. how does one react after killing a person? how should one feel?

hotch noticed her inner turmoil, the shock is possibly adding too, "wanna talk about it?"

"sir, you just scolded me." she narrowed her eyes at his offer, wondering how this man can turn from the unit chief to a friend in an instant. were they even friends? she doesn't know.

he deadpanned at her, "you disobeyed my orders."

"a necessary insubordination." she replied in a beat, her eyes still on him. there was no way she would win though.

as francesca had told him plenty of times before, she likes his eyes best. of course, he only looked at her blankly every time before turning back to his case files, but she does like them sincerely and she will not get tired of telling him about it.

her fondness probably comes from the fact that she knows what his eyes are trying to say—an intimate form of communication, per se.

and so, that is precisely why she could do nothing but shrug and smile tirely at him. although his brows were creased, his eyes were offering comfort. that or she's so in her head she's starting to hallucinate and overthink.

the girl shook her head with a warm smile at the thought, "how about tomorrow?" she beamed at him, referring to his offer to talk. the man nodded once and she grinned teasingly, exhaustion seemingly forgotten, "it's a date."

hotch rolled his eyes at her antics, gracefully pocketing his hands, "do you need anything?"

francesca grinned from ear to ear in mischief, "can i get a hug?"

"you—"

"what? i'm in shock!"

he let a small smile grace his features as she exaggeratedly pulled the shock blanket to herself. he simply looked at her, as if figuring out how she really was. hotch patted her head softly before finally walking away to where the rest of the team was.

the action most certainly did not go unnoticed by her. needless to say, her mind was a mess.

if someone would have told her in the past that there comes a time she would give her heart and swoon by everything a man two decades older does, she would have went on an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

yet, here she was—just killed a woman and all she can think about was how the smallest gesture of affection from him brought a lump to her throat.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 3: guilt tastes like cola garigari-kun (Nishinoya Yuu x Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: once again, I will remind that if you plan to read the footnotes, ao3 is the best way to read. if you don't care or intend to read them all at the end without referencing what they're marked on with the text, feel free to carry on with the tumblr crosspost!

Summary: Popsicles with the guys and popsicles alone.

Warnings: some family-related angst

Word count: ~3500

"You know, when I said I'd bet actual money, I didn't mean you had to actually do anything. We didn't even say 'deal'."

He does not let up. You survived practice as before, with a bit more interest and a bit more focus on understanding what was going on, only to find Nishinoya waiting for you at the gate after you changed out.

"Your chance to protest was when I said I'd buy it for you this morning," he replies easily.

"I did protest. You ignored me."

"I don't remember that! Come on, let's go to Sakanoshita. We need to plan anyway, right?"

"…fine. I will allow you to buy me one popsicle."

"One box? Got it."

You snort. "Remember what I said this morning about actually listening to me?"

"I am! You said 'one'. You didn't give units."

That you didn't. "I didn't think it need to be said."

"Compromise: I'll get you just one popsicle, but you gotta promise to enjoy it!"

"And if I feel bad letting you spend money on me?"

"That's why you've gotta enjoy it! What's the point of life if you don't let yourself have something you like every now and then?"

You bite back the suggestion that you might not even like popsicles. There's probably a point where protesting just gets annoying, anyway, for you and the other person. And if he wants to, and if you don't have a real reason not to…

This, you think, may be what's wrong with you: you say yes when you don't feel like saying no strongly enough. You aren't sure, really, what else to say. So you let the pretty second-year drag you to the convenience store for ice cream you "won" in a "bet" no one made, and because it keeps you from having to go home as soon, you loiter with him and a few others outside the store. You take your time, hold conversation not to be polite or to entertain anyone, but because it makes the popsicle take longer, keeps you from going home for just a few minutes more. It does not make the popsicle taste sweeter. If there's a next time—and you suspect there will be—you'll have to push back a bit harder against the whole "buying you things" thing.

Your one consolation is that they're not all here for you. You doubt they would be, but still: Hinata and Kageyama have found some new topic to bicker about, the third years sans Shimizu are busily chatting over nikuman, and Tanaka and Ennoshita have relieved you of being Nishinoya's sole focus for the time being.

"So. [name]-san."

You glance up from your popsicle³ (cola-flavored, because you're sensible). "Mm?"

“I heard plenty about our practice match yesterday from Yachi-san⁴ talking to Shouyo, but someone didn't give her thoughts on how awesome we were."

You roll your eyes. "Uh-huh? That so?"

"Yeah! What'd you think?"

Tanaka and Ennoshita regard you with mild interest. Of course they do. You can't imagine any high school boy not wanting to hear compliments about how well they played. "I'm not gonna yell like she did. No shade to her, of course. That's just not me."

"I'm not asking you to! I just wanna hear all about how cool you think I am."

That draws a laugh from you. "Fine. I'll be honest, since you went out of your way to buy me a popsicle I didn't ask for and specifically told you you didn't have to buy for me."

"Really!?"

"Watch," Ennoshita says quietly to Tanaka, "this is the part where [surname]-san eviscerates him."

"It was fun. You guys are interesting to watch, and I could tell by watching you play that you're good."

"And...?"

"And I followed your advice by watching specific players instead of the ball." You pause, take a moment to save a melting bit of runaway popsicle from certain ruin. "I guess it was helpful."

"You guess? Who were you watching?"

The popsicle is really adding to this experience. Namely that it allows you a moment to figure out the most fun way to respond, which is, of course, to mess with him. "…Kageyama-san."

He looks stricken. "[name]-san?"

Tanaka laughs. "Man, no wonder you proposed on sight, Noya-san. She's perfect for you."

"Right? C'mon, [name]-san, hurry up and marry me already!"

"Nine hundred ninety-two, but thanks for the popsicle."

"I think maybe you should try making her feel welcome instead of pressuring the girl, but what do I know?" Ennoshita says.

"I'm not pressuring her!" he protests. "I even asked if she was okay with everything!"

"He did," you admit. "Oh—that reminds me. Nishinoya-senpai, did you wanna, like, meet up over lunch for the study thing, or…?"

He visibly lights up. "Right!"

"Study thing?" Tanaka asks. "What study thing?"

"Hinata mentioned you guys can't have any make-up exams or you have to miss some practice matches or something, right? I can't exactly tutor, seeing as I'm only a first year and have no idea what you guys are doing in class, but I offered to give him some tips for actually studying in a way that does anything. "

"R-really? Can you help me out, too? If that's not too much trouble!" Tanaka bows deeply to you.

"Sure, why not?"

"Not to get between all this," Ennoshita pipes up, "but you two definitely already gave up all of your lunches between now and exams."

"Chikaraaa," Nishinoya whines. "Isn't this important?"

"Sure, but not necessarily more important than you actually going over the material. Why not study on the weekend?"⁶

"Is that okay?" The two look to you.

You shrug. "I don't really do things, so I don't mind. Why not?"

"You'd really give up your weekend for us?"

"Oh, but I guess we can't use a classroom or something if it's the weekend. My house is no good, either…"

"Ryu, if you're coming, it's gotta be my place," Nishinoya says.

"Why yours? My house is perfectly good."

"She lives down the street from me. Makes more sense, right?"

"[surname]-san, are you really okay with that? These two can be a lot."

"Oh, I don't mind!" You wave a dismissive hand. "Really. It'll be rough playing without the full team if everyone can't go to Tokyo, right? And Yachi-san's already got Hinata and Kageyama-san locked down. Not that I think I'll be nearly as helpful. More of a longer-term solution thing."

"Do you think it'll actually stick?"

You smile. Tilt your head. "I'll see what I can do."

~

Nishinoya insists on walking you home afterward. You accept, namely because you can't really justify not walking with him when you're going the same way. You do not, however, let him carry your bag, although he insists pretty hard on doing that, too.

"I can't believe you said yes to Ryu crashing our study date," he teases.

"Date?" You raise an eyebrow. "That's news to me, Senpai. Besides, I didn't really have a good reason to say no."

"Is that all it is? Do you secretly just not want to hang out with me?"

"That's not it. I'm just too nice of a person. I'll be a saint whenever I get around to dying."

Yeah, that's good enough. The sarcasm soothes the ache just a little bit.

"Pretty sure you already are. I mean, I worship you, so—"

You snort. "No, you don't. You barely know me."

"I'd like to, though."

Your steps stutter to a stop. "Do you just, like, say everything that pops into your head, or like what?"

"Not everything! But most things, yeah."

"That explains the marriage proposals. You should rethink that, by the way. Pretty sure you're supposed to love someone before you even think about proposing."

"Haven't you heard of love at first sight? I knew from the moment I saw you that I needed to marry you!" He punctuates his sentence with a dramatic thump of his chest.

"Right. Yeah. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but love at first sight is a myth. Whatever you're feeling right now isn't love. It's just chemicals in your head telling you to find a mate because our brain chemistry hasn't caught up to modern society."

"How is my brain chemistry telling me to do something not the same as me wanting it?"

…he has a point, but you're the one who's right here. You stand your ground. "It's just different, alright? I'm not trying to be mean or anything. You seem like a nice guy. But you're setting yourself up for failure if you get attached here, and… I don't know. It's kinda obvious you haven't thought about this. At all. I'm not gonna be the one responsible if you get hurt chasing me, you know?"

"Is that why you told me to ask a thousand times?"

"Yeah, kinda." You fall into step beside him again with a sigh. "Mostly on impulse, though. It seems that I just sort of say things around you."

He grins. "That's love."

You're not dignifying that with a response.

"How about this? I'll keep up with my proposals, because a thousand is a big number to get through, and you stick around long enough for me to get to know you, and by the time I hit a thousand, you'll be ready to admit that you wanna marry me."

"You're impossible. Do you do this with every girl who gives you the time of day?"

He tosses his head back as he laughs. "Only the pretty ones."

"And let me guess, you think every girl's pretty?"

"You really are psychic! But, you know, there's only one pretty girl who's ever given me the time of day."

"Right." You pause, nod to his house. "Go home, Casanova. And don't stay up too late studying. Your brain can't actually form memories if you don't rest it."

He waves as he goes. "I'll pick you up tomorrow!"

"Stalker!" you call back in reply.

~

Okay, so that didn't go the way you planned. At all, really. So that's cool.

You meander slowly on your way home—just a few doors down, really not far at all, honestly, it's a marvel that you've never once run into him before—a bit wary of the thought that he might see which house is yours. It's not that you sense any threat from him. Nothing like that. You just… don't want any questions if he happens to recognize the house.

You don't bother calling out any sort of greeting when you get home—there's no way your father darkens the door before eleven at the earliest. Instead, you kick off your shoes in the genkan, nudge them to the side and out of the way so he doesn't trip on them later, and move right to getting started on dinner. Over washing and peeling potatoes, you try to think this whole thing through properly.

If you told him you were uncomfortable or didn't want him to, Nishinoya probably wouldn't press the issue. You don't think he would have even bothered checking if he didn't care at least a little bit about your answer. Admittedly, after the Shimizu-flying-leap-slap incident, he did seem to back off pretty noticeably, too. Hell, the other volleyball club members have made pretty clear that they'll tell him off on your behalf, so you wouldn't even have to say it to him directly.

But… he's nice. That's the part you can't seem to move past. Nishinoya Yuu is nice. You haven't smiled this much since your mother's death, admittedly for lack of trying. It's nice getting complimented every morning just for showing up. Nicer when it's a day you know you look like shit. You don't really mind the whirlwind keeping you from coming back to an empty house.

You always look a little lonely, Yachi had said. Does your suitor think the same? Did you look so lonely that he had to make you feel better even before he got your name?

Do you actually feel less lonely like this?

You set aside the peeled potatoes to soak and sigh. Grab the cutting board to scrape the peels into the trash bin. All this gives you is another reason to sigh—it's full again. It makes meals easier, sure, but it stings a little to see the evidence of yet another convenience store dinner in the trash.

At least if you go through with this manager thing, your father won't be hurting for food.

Maybe you should start learning how to meal prep in bulk. If you go through with this manager thing, it'll be hard to keep up with chores and cook every night. The last thing you need is for your grades to drop.

You're out of milk again. Running low on rice, too. You barely have the ingredients to throw together a passable lunch for tomorrow, which means staying up tonight to actually catch your father when he gets home. But as much as you can skimp at home—and you do skimp this time, not bothering to assemble a real dinner so much as prepping extra lunch ingredients into something that won't give you food poisoning—you don't need anybody bugging you at school about why you're not eating or why your bento is just seventeen aging cherry tomatoes and a rice ball.

No, there's no getting around this. You work through homework as fast as you can manage, then curl up on the couch with a cookbook and a notepad and wait.

You wake up to the sound of stumbling in the doorway. You're not exactly sure why you bother making sure your father won't trip over your shoes when he regularly trips over the step into the house proper anyways. He's sober, it seems, but exhausted. The clock reads 11:49 PM—no wonder, if he's just getting home from work.

"Welcome home," you pipe up when he's caught his balance.

He jolts, looks up at you with a deer-in-headlights look like you've caught him having an affair or something. "[name]. You're still awake?"

"I fell asleep on the couch," you admit lamely, then wince at the wounded look on his face. "Just woke up."

"Alone?"

You shouldn't have waited up for him like this. It's just another way to re-open old wounds. Just another layer of awkwardness in this stupid fucking haunted house.

"Yeah. Sorry. I just—we need groceries."

"Right. Groceries. How much do you need?"

This is the part where you try not to feel bad. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Can I just get a card to use? Last time I misjudged the prices and couldn't get everything I needed, and it's hard to plan without going to the store. The price of eggs went up again, too."

He nods. "Sure. Yeah." There's a moment where he's fumbling for his wallet, and then, he's thrusting out a debit card in one hand, barely even looking at you. "I'll get you your own card when I have the time. For now, you can use that. The PIN's her birthday. I'll keep it topped up, don't you worry."

You take it. It doesn't feel like a victory.

"Now you won't have to stay up waiting for me anymore. Just get whatever you like, I'll keep eating at work."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You should head to bed."

"Okay."

He pitches a plastic bag, the remnants of another convenience store dinner, in the trash. Stumbles off to his bedroom.

Leaves you sitting on the couch, a debit card in your hands, half-finished shopping list on your lap.

Leaves his daughter to handle herself alone.

~

You make it through the next day as easily as any other: a bleary-eyed morning ("good morning [name]-san! Please agree to marry me today!"), taking careful notes in class, lunch blissfully alone. Post-afternoon practice, you get changed and stop at the gate, once again hearing your name called after you before you can escape.

"[name]-san! Wanna walk home together?"

For once, you have a reason to say no, and so you do. Apologetic smile, gentle dip of your head in lieu of a proper bow. "Sorry, Nishinoya-senpai. I have to go grocery shopping tonight, so I can't."

"Oh. Wanna go grocery shopping together, then? I can help carry your bags!"

"I can carry them myself," you say. "I usually handle the shopping alone, anyway."

"But it'd be easier if you let someone help you, right?"

…it would be easier. No big reasons to say no, one lukewarm reason to say yes. "…why not?"

So quietly marking up your grocery list gets crashed by a chatty, pretty guy who happily carries the groceries and sometimes even makes you laugh. In the frozen food section, you stop when a box of Cola-flavored popsicles catches your eye.

They're not on your list. You don't need them. There is no justification for buying popsicles with your dad's card.

"You gotta let yourself enjoy things every now and then," Nishinoya reminds you in a sing-song tone.

You glare at him.

That night, your groceries are half as difficult to carry home. You don't let Nishinoya carry them inside, just have him leave them on the porch and you'll come back for the rest. Before you start on dinner, you kick back with a guilt-flavored popsicle and try not to think about anything at all.

Footnotes

3. Noya's favorite food is the soda-flavored of the Garigari-kun popsicles, but I was doing research for this fic and discovered that not only are these popsicles more of ice pops than ice cream, but flavors include soda, cola, and melon pan. BREAD FLAVORED POPSICLES, guys. I'm the bread guy. The temptation to start a kickstarter to travel to Japan, find a convenience store, eat a single bread-flavored popsicle, and immediately leave is so high I'm not even kidding. I already researched and, as expected, you can't easily import ice pops from a country a solid sixteen hours away by plane. I don't wanna visit Japan for weeb reasons. I just want to know what a bread-flavored popsicle tastes like.

4. So, I scoured basically the entire canon to break down how Noya refers to people. First, I checked to see if he ever refers to Yachi by name. He, in fact, does not.⁵ In canon, they only interact directly twice. Haikyuu is short on girls by nature of being a shounen about a boys' volleyball team, so Noya only ever actually addresses three girls by name in canon: Shimizu, Saeko, and a third-year named Aya on the girl's team in s1e18. As a result, there's very limited data on how Noya interacts with girls. We've got "Kiyoko-san" (first name, -san, "anata" as a second-person pronoun), "Nee-san" (she would appear to ask any of Tanaka's friends to call her that, at minimum. No data on second-person pronoun usage, which isn't common in Japanese anyway), and "Aya-senpai" (first name, -senpai, no data on second-person pronoun usage). Noya's pretty liberal about familiarity with people he likes—for example, he jumps pretty quickly to calling Hinata "Shouyo" after a decent first impression, but the other first-year guys remain last name only for the duration of canon. He cares a little bit about being polite if he feels like he should be polite to them—all upperclassmen are -san save for Aya, who we can assume he only kind of knows and therefore feels less familiar with beyond, presumably, "girl pretty". Generally, I feel like he'd dial up the politeness just a touch with girls because, you know, girls. All that being said, Yachi is an underclassman and not super on Noya's radar, so I feel like she'd just be "Yachi-san" to him.

5. Admittedly, I did not check back on the drama CDs, but as far as I recall, there aren't any drama CDs starring both Yachi and Noya, at least not ones where they directly interact. This is, of course, a shame.

6. So canon sort of implies that Karasuno doesn't have classes on Saturdays during Yachi's introductory arc—Hinata and Kageyama come over on a Saturday to study and Hinata's like, "thank you for helping us study on a Saturday!" BUT during that scene (s2e3 if I remember correctly) Yachi is wearing her school uniform. So, research time! According to the Wikipedia⁷ article "Secondary education in Japan", schools that do meet on Saturdays have half days and let out around 1. Later in s2 Kageyama also implies that the volleyball club practices EVERY day (by expressing shock that Oikawa has a rest day during the week), so I've decided that Karasuno has a half day on Saturdays, followed by a two hour or so practice.

7. Any teacher will tell you Wikipedia is not a source. Wikipedia is not an academic source because articles are subject to constant change. Despite my bullshit in these footnotes, this is not an academic context.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[darkerthanblack-666]

Re: ESC 2024 hosting because of ABBA: I’ve got THOUGHTS even tho I’m just an American (don’t get me started on American Song Contest that needs to die we have 57 of those WHY DO WE NEED THAT ONE) lol. The thought are as follows: I get that it’s ~tradition~ for the winner to host next year’s contest (afaik it’s not like written in the rules, right??) but like… had they just been HONEST and said “Sweden is going to host ESC 2024 regardless of winner for ABBA’s 50th anniversary” I really think everyone would’ve been like “ok that’s fine get on with the show, whoever wins can host 2025 or have a separate event” but instead (this may just be the American in me who sees corruption everywhere lol) I fully believe Sweden paid a lot of money to get the jury to make them the winner (or otherwise somehow rigged it) and because of that, whether you like her or not, Loreen’s “win” will always seem suspect and luckily it seems like the juries are bearing the brunt of the nasty reactions, not Loreen (whether you like her or not, nobody deserves to be shat on for what the juries did), she’s always gonna have those allegations over her. Do I think Finland should’ve won with that popular vote count? Yes. Do I think Loreen had anything to do with Sweden actually winning? Not really. I really hope whoever’s in charge gets their shit together before next year and change rules to have it actually be fair (ie, if you won once you can’t compete again, abolish the juries and have the popular vote win, etc) because it was FUN this year with unique acts (for the most part lol) and then Sweden ruined it and soured the whole thing for everyone INCLUDING THE PERFORMERS and that makes me sad. It’s supposed to be fun. You’re not supposed to go home hoping your country doesn’t hate you.

Listen, even before the Swedish national selections I've been reading wank to Loreen. I didn't know who she was, because I don't watch Eurovision religiously (metalheads in general think that Eurovision is crap and this year we all were proven it is crap indeed). I heard her song and didn't even remember it for the first time, I totally spaced out when I watched the video. It's nothing special. But everyone was treating it like the highest form of art.

They kept saying she's going to win the national selections, and then the whole contest. I think someone created that hype around her on purpose. So many viewers thought the song was something exceptional, while it isn't. I personally think they pulled her out of her sleeve and created the hype to win it. Because the same strategy was used with Blanka in Poland. Promoting the song on TV, then in multiple countries, etc.

Sometimes shady tactics are not necessary to get high score in televote, it's simply marketing and I can easily see it in both cases here (but ofc Blanka didn't get that many points from the jury, because Poland is not one of the jury pets and we always do better at televote).

The jury votes, I'll leave it to your own interpretation. Whether it was marketing (the bookmaker odds overhyped Sweden to the ridiculous degree as well, it could also be a marketing strategy), or if they were paid. Who knows? There is no proof for anything, but to me the blatant promotion of the song was pretty clear.

To me Loreen is no one special and because of this whole hype around her I just can't look at her, I avoid everything related to her, and didn't even want to look at her performance. I'm not the person to send someone hate, however. I just avoid what I dislike. I love Käärijä, so all my attention goes to him. Indeed, Sweden ruined it all, because without them even the televote could be different. Many people mass voted for Finland trying to beat Sweden (they were probably tired of the whole promotion of this song, too). I think Käärijä would still win the televote without Sweden playing dirty, but without such a huge advantage. Would Loreen be 2nd though? I'm not so sure. Every person I talk to, says that the song is nothing special.

Next year I'm definitely not going to vote. When there's a good song, I'll just stream that artist on Spotify and support them on social media. This year we were proven that even great artists can score very little points, so this whole Eurovision ranking is for bragging rights only. Nothing else than that. Just being there is good for every artist, because they get huge exposure.

So it really doesn't matter if we vote for them or not. It only matters if they go there. That's it.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

-

Masterlist

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (10)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.9k warnings: smut (18+), angsty angst, this time I dont leave you with a cliff hanger 😉 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“Come on, Bucky! I know you’re in there!” 

You hit your fist on the door again. Perhaps you would have been more mindful of the the hour, but you’d heard glass shattering as you raced up the stairway just moments ago. You’d heard him shouting himself hoarse and heavy footsteps as he paced inside his apartment. You’d heard the cracks in his voice – the consumption of grief and fury and shame swallowing him whole.  

One of Bucky’s neighbors had rung Sam the first time Bucky’s screams could be heard through the thin apartment walls. It was the fifth time in as many nights and Sam promised Bucky would get it under control before they went to the landlord with noise complaints. He made no such promises that he would be the one to do it. 

An elderly woman in a nightgown peeped her head out into the hallway, scowling at you as you continued pounding on the door. Her beady eyes narrowed and you only spared her a moment’s glance before you returned to the door. 

“I’ll wake up the whole building! I swear to—” 

The door was pulled from under your fist. In its frame, stood a ghostly version of the man you knew. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes. His hair was disheveled, blood dripped from a cut in his palm. Behind him, furniture was turned on its side, glass on the floor, magazines and unopened mail littering every surface. He'd torn his place apart.  

“What are you doing here?” 

You swallowed, forcing your voice stronger than you felt. “Sam called me.” 

Bucky’s grip on the doorknob tightened. “Of course, he did.”  

He paused only for a moment before he turned his back to you and walked inside the apartment. The door was left open in his wake and you took it as permission to enter. 

Cautiously, you took your first steps into his apartment. You tried to ignore the dust lining the curtains and the fleeting thought wondering when the last time he’d allowed the sun to touch his skin. The latch clicked behind you and you winced at the intrusion to the silence.  

Bucky meanwhile was staring out into the mess of his living room. His gaze rested on the couch turned on its side, then to the box of trinkets spilled on the floor by the mantel, then the broken glass by the window. His shoulders sagged; his expression unreadable. Slowly, he knelt down to the edge of the couch to flip it back on its legs.  

You watched him carefully, not uttering a word or daring to move closer until he finished. Once the couch was right side up again, he exhaled a tired breath and leaned against the edge. Exhaustion flickering through his eyes, though you suspected it had little to do with the exertion of moving furniture.  

As Bucky moved to throw the cushions back to the frame, you realized suddenly how he was dressed. Plaid blue pajama pants hung low on his waist. Bare feet prodding over hardwood floors too close to where broken shards of glass waited. His chest was exposed; skin glazed in the dim glow of moonlight as it peered through the small slit between the curtains.  

You could see his shoulder blades move along his back as he tensed. The lines of his spine and the dips along his hipbones. When he turned to face you again, your eyes were drawn to his shoulder and the frayed mess of scar tissue and burns. It was mesmerizing, the intricate patterns and the markings on his skin. Pink and red and faded with time. You wondered if it still hurt, if he could feel the nerve endings there or— 

Your gaze flickered back to Bucky’s. He was watching you, barely taking a breath. So vulnerable as he stood in front of you and he had no time to prepare for it. He probably didn’t realize how exposed he was until he noticed you staring. You’d imposed on his home, on his space. He couldn’t have known he’d be confronted with this tonight. 

All the effort it took for him to simply remove his jacket and now he was left standing before you without a single layer to protect him.  

You could see the doubt swimming behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to pretend like this connection between you was something he could easily push away, like he could let go of it without much of a second thought or a single word in his own defense, you could tell he was ripping himself apart at the seams, wondering whether you found him as repulsive as he saw himself to be. 

He shook his head, his features hardening over again. He gripped at the side of the couch until his knuckles turned white.  

“You should go home,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was thick as gravel. “Sam shouldn’t have bothered you.” 

“Shouldn’t have—?” You scoffed, stunned. “Bucky, look at this place!” 

“I’m fine,” he replied flatly and you almost laughed if it weren’t for the deadpanned look upon his face.  

“You’re clearly not fine!” You dared to take a step closer, aching to remind him of the lightness he carried weeks earlier, only for him to retreat. He rejected the contact on instinct – a flinch throughout his whole body. Your heart clenched as if a hand had slipped in past your ribs and squeezed until it burst.  

Your breath was tight in your lungs as you tried again, a little softer this time, “you’re not fine, Bucky. You’ve kept yourself held up – alone – in this apartment for days on end. You’re pushing away the people who care about you. You’re not sleeping. You... You look like you’ve been through hell.” 

Bucky’s jaw was clenched so tight, you wondered if it might shatter. His gaze was unfocused, staring down at the floor by your feet.  

“You don’t have to put yourself thought this,” you eased, though the tension would not fade from his muscles. They remained locked as stone. You inched forward, a hand extending to him, an anchor to ground him. “Bucky, please... let me help you.” 

Something snapped – as sudden as a rubber band pulled taunt until its breaking point – and Bucky’s cold eyes met yours.  

"There is NO helping me!” he roared, startling you enough to flinched back a few paces, your hand curling back against your chest protectively. He curled his shaking hand to a fist. “I can't escape this shit! Even when I thought I could—when things were finally bearable again and I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning and I actually wanted to live through the fucking day— it all came back anyway! One word and I’m right back to where I started! I’m a fucking nightmare to be around! Don’t you get that?!” 

His breaths were coming in ragged, too quick. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes red. He hit his knuckles against the edge of the couch, on the wooden frame under the spine. Bucky barely took in a full breath.

“I can’t keep my shit together and I’m -- I’m only going to hurt you, okay? You shouldn’t want anything to do with this. I—I mean, look around you!” He kicked at the glass near his exposed feet, angry tears burning on his cheeks. “This is what my life looks like! Is this—is this what you want for yourself? You really want to sign up for this? This—this fucking endless parade of night terrors and panic attacks and anxiety? Huh?” 

He was brimming with pain. It was spilling over the surface and coating the floor. You were drowning in it and all you wanted to do was cross the room to him, to hold him, to soothe even an ounce of that suffering away because it would consume him whole if he let it.  

Bucky’s right hand was shaking so badly, tremors wouldn’t cease even as he clenched his fist. His body betrayed the stone he etched into his features. It was crumbling under the weight.  

“You really want to throw away your life for that? For me?” he spat as if the very idea itself carried venom in its implication, as if it were nothing more than a fool’s errand to spend a lifetime by his side, as if choosing him would be choosing to tie a noose around your neck.  

You’d never seen the evidence of his self-loathing before—not in full view and smothering the man you adored. He was expecting you to recoil, to run, to fight and argue and ultimately accept that you could never love a man so broken. It was a reaction he could wait a century for and still never find even a glimpse of hesitancy on your features.  

You steadied your breathing. Focused on the heart of the man standing in front of you, determined to push past the destructive fog he’d surrounded himself in. You took a step toward him, and this time, he did not run.  

“You’re not going to scare me away, Bucky.” 

Shame quickly spread through his body, replacing the threads of anger with something much crueler. His eyes fell to the floor, his chest rising unsteady and he stumbled back a few paces to give you space from the rage he wasn’t able to control. He looked about a decade younger as his features softened again, cowering back into the shadows. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you eased, daring another step. 

Bucky shook his head, reflective lines along his cheeks. His lower lip was chewed raw.  

“You don’t deserve this mess. You should—You should be with someone whole. Someone who can give you a better life than I can.” He could barely choke out the words.

“I don’t want someone else.” You took another step closer, determined to close the space between you. “I want you.” 

The tips of your fingers brushed against Bucky’s hand and a shiver cast up his spine. His eyes were transfixed on your touch as you slowly encased his hand in your own, easing the tension through his body and crumbling the stones in his chest with a gentle slide of your thumb against his palm. He started to sink against it, his whole body caving in to the very thing he’d been keeping at an arm’s length. He was suffering withdrawal.  

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Bucky whimpered, tears slipping past his eyes as he shut them tight, as if he could cast away his demons if he were blind to their shadows over his shoulder.  

You tugged gently on his hand, pulling him down to the couch. He followed you easily, his body moving of your accord as if he were made of clay. When you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, you felt the slight tremble along his spine, the shakiness in his bones. His head laid against your heartbeat, his right arm snaking around your waist in fear of letting go.   

“I don’t need to know what happened. I don’t need the details,” you sighed against his ear. “I know you. I know you’re a good man, Bucky.” 

Bucky was quiet for a minute. The silence hung thick in the air. 

“What if I’m not?” 

You tried to ignore the twist in your chest. “Oh honey, please don’t say that.” 

“I lost eight people, Y/n,” he muttered out, holding onto you a little tighter. You could feel his heart pounding as you raked your fingers through his hair, hoping to ease him if only a little. “Eight of my unit. My friends. If I... If I had said something sooner... We were sitting ducks and... and...” 

It was impossible to draw the pieces together. You couldn’t see the vivid image he held in his mind, but the details of that day weren’t necessary. He trusted you enough to outline the frame, to provide glimpses into the worst day of his life, even if they were messy and blurred. His body shook as he spoke, like maybe it was the first time he was saying the words aloud.  

You ran your fingers along his spine, drawing patterns along his shoulder blades. He shivered. 

The gentle glow of the moonlight caught the reflective edge of something on the floor. A medal. A Bronze Star. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, remembering what Natasha had told you about its merit for exceptional bravery.  

“Were there any survivors?” 

Bucky held his breath and slowly he nodded. “He was... He was just a kid when it happened. Peter. I think... I think if it wasn’t for him, I would have died out there. I would have given up. Woulda been easy enough. My arm would have bled out pretty quick and the sky... the sky was so beautiful that day. I don’t know why I remember that. Not a cloud for miles. It would have been a nice last thing to see, you know? I would have been okay with that. But Peter... Peter was so young and I... I wanted to bring him home.” 

Tears were openly streaming down your face and you were thankful Bucky couldn’t see them as he laid against your chest. You tried to stifle the sob as it broke through. You kissed at his hairline again, holding him as tight as you could manage. 

“You saved his life,” you stressed, hoping he might be able to hear it.  

Bucky swallowed, tears brushing against the thin fabric of your t-shirt. “I lost eight others.” 

“Yes, you did.” There was no disputing that. Eight lives had been lost and he was grieving his friends, his team, blaming himself for each life he didn’t save. His body tensed and you were mindful to draw pressured lines along his back to ease the rigidity there.  

“You did everything you could, honey.” 

Bucky shook his head. “No, I could have... I—I should have...” 

“Some things are just outside of your control.” 

“But I—” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

Bucky froze, the recognition present in his body as he slowly lifted his head from your chest. “That’s....” He blinked a few times. “That’s what Sam always said. Those exact words.” 

You smiled, brushing the hair from his eyes. You wiped your thumb along his cheekbone, drawing away the tracks of tears on his face. “Sam’s a smart guy.” 

Bucky searched your eyes and you could tell he was wondering how you’d come to know Sam’s mantras, how they’d become words you often repeated to yourself in your darkest moments, but he couldn’t quite find a way to ask. He pulled himself from your lap and propped himself up beside you, your hands intertwined. He squeezed it lightly and an aching smile pulled at your lips.  

"Sam used to have to write it on paper for me,” you admitted at the bittersweet memory. “I couldn’t say it to myself and he figured if I could read it in his writing, maybe I’d believe it if it were coming from him. After a while I started to say them out loud and hearing it my own voice... I don’t know. Sam kind of tricked me into healing, I guess.” 

You laughed under your breath and you felt Bucky ease slightly beside you. He squeezed your hand again, a silent reminder that he was there. You focused on the feel of his grip, the callouses on his palms and the warmth of his skin. Real and tangible. Your Bucky.  

“Sometimes I think Sam’s the only reason I survived after I lost Riley.” 

A slight pinch formed at Bucky’s brows, his eyes narrowing—a subtle sort of curiosity, though he waited patiently for you to continue. The silence didn’t seem to frighten him as much as he focused on you, his eyes darted to your lip as you dug in your teeth.  

You hadn’t let yourself be vulnerable next to Bucky before, afraid to take away from his own suffering in favor of your own. But you had known pain of a different kind. 

You knew what it was to crave comfort, to silently beg to be held. You knew how it felt to be rejected by a man too shattered to offer any piece of himself away without breaking apart entirely.  

The way Bucky was watching you, even through the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion pulling him in... it settled the twists of nerves in your stomach. His thumb traced at the edges of your palms, gentle sweeps to ease the tension away. His back straightened, a determination returning to his features, a sense of belonging – of purpose – in his comfort of you.  

“He was a pararescue in the Air Force,” you continued after a moment and a flash of realization crossed over Bucky’s features. You pressed out a sad sort of smile as you said, “you remind me of him a little.” 

You thought of the t-shirt you’d lent Bucky the evening you’d gotten caught in the storm together, how it clung to his chest. Bucky’s shoulders where broader than Riley’s had been. It was slightly bigger on your frame the next night you wore it. The logo had faded with constant washing, the soft green of the fabric muted to a grey. You’d worn it to sleep nearly every night for weeks after Riley left for his final tour, longer after he’d been killed.  

It was the most cherished thing you owned. Lending it to Bucky that night had taken a strength you hadn’t allowed for yourself in years. It brought back memories you’d left untouched and an ache in your chest you’d forgotten. But somewhere, under it all, it had released you. 

Riley would have liked Bucky, you thought, might have considered him a friend. You hoped he wouldn’t mind being the bridge that allowed you to move onto a new sense of peace, a new comfort. Even in Riley’s darkest moments, he only ever wanted you to be happy. You desperately hoped he meant that.  

“I loved him so much,” you told Bucky, your mouth feeling suddenly dry at the admission, “but the war had hurt him beyond the scars on his body. Most nights, he woke up screaming. I tried... I tried to comfort him, to ground him back to what was real, but Riley was always so stubborn. He insisted he was fine, as if I didn’t notice the dark circles under his eyes or that he started drinking coffee in the evening before bed. He never told me what happened. I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, that he was just doing what he could to hold himself together, but... the truth was, I lost Riley long before the officers showed up at his parents’ house.” 

Bucky nodded, watching you intently, though he didn’t say a word. You could feel his eyes on you as you kept your stare ahead, focusing on the imperfections laced into the brick of the fireplace across the room. You studied the curve of the cement, the nicks in the mantel, the divots of the stone. It was the first time you’d uttered Riley’s name in years. 

“I know you think I can’t handle this stuff, that it’s too much for me, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been around someone with nightmares, Bucky, or panic attacks,” you said, memories flashing over Riley sinking to the floor with his hands pressed to his ears, tears streaming down his face, images of him turning his back on you and disappearing for days on end. You had hoped he’d open up in enough time, but he never did. He couldn’t, he’d said, or it would consume him whole. Even years later, you still wondered whether it was under the weight of his pain that he suffocated, not in the prospect of its release.  

“Riley struggled after his first tour,” you continued, a lump burning in your throat. “He... He came back different. He couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I could tell from the second he got home that he was itching to go back. Despite all the pain he endured, all the nightmares and the guilt, all he wanted to do was go back.” 

You glanced over at Bucky to find his jaw clenched in understanding. It wasn’t an uncommon feeling, for soldiers who waited so tirelessly to be reunited with family and friends to feel isolated and insignificant when they returned home, to want to return to the one place they felt like they belonged.  

“I tried to stop him,” you continued, wiping your eyes as unshed tears started to blur your vision. “I begged him to stay. He was out of his contract. He didn’t need to go back but...” You sighed. Bucky’s hand gripped yours and you drew on the ounce of strength he was offering. “The worst part was that he was better when he was over there. He was smiling again and laughing and making jokes like he used to. He was promising things for our future I hadn’t even allowed myself to consider before then. Being over there... it offered him something I never could and I was... I was glad for that. I was thankful he’d gone. I was... relieved. I’d missed him so much and I was just happy he was himself again, even if he was a world away, even if it broke my heart. Seeing him happy again... it was enough.” 

You brushed at your eyes, the calloused touch of Bucky’s palm sliding along your jaw to gently wipe the wet from your cheek. His breathing was even again, the shakiness in his hands subsided. He waited for you to gather your thoughts again, not uttering a word in favor of the crickets chirping outside the window – unparalleled kindness in his patience.  

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, urging yourself to continue. Your eyes met Bucky’s, finding comfort in the warm shades of blue and the encouraging glimpse of a smile that barely rose at the edges of his mouth.  

“When Riley died, I blamed myself for a long time,” you said. “I told myself I could have stopped him from going back. I could have done more to convince him to stay, to get him the help he needed. I could have fought harder for him—for... for us. But Riley was his own person. He made his own choices and I couldn’t have done a damn thing to stand in his way. Sam helped convince me of that.” 

Bucky’s face slacked. “That’s why you started volunteering at the VA.” 

You nodded. “Sam and Riley were partners. They had some sort of pact to take care of the other’s family if something happened. Sam held up his side of the bargain whether I liked it or not. He dragged me to the open house that year and I haven’t left since. I do it for Riley, but... I don’t know... I think I do it for myself, too.” 

You exhaled a heavy breath, turning away from the fireplace to face Bucky. His eyes weren’t as red as they had been, a frown no longer etched into his features. His gaze full, though heavy, and he watched you as if you carried the entire world in the palm of your hands.  

“So, you have to understand... I can’t lose you to this war, too,” you choked out, squeezing at his hand to feel the firmness of it, to remind yourself that he was real and sitting right beside you and not an ocean away. “I won’t survive losing you, Bucky. I need you, okay? Please.” 

He looked as though he was about to argue, but he quickly held his tongue as he watched the tears slip down over your cheeks. Reflective in the dim light from the window.  

You took in a long breath, straightening your spine as you met his eye, your voice stronger than it had been since you started. “Not everyone comes home, but you did. You survived and you wandered into my life and somehow, you made me believe in love again. Even on your worst days, just being near you is the best part of mine.” 

Bucky’s lips parted, a semblance of shock flashing over his eyes. You smiled at him through your tears, a hand sliding along the side of his cheek. He sighed against the touch of it, sinking into your embrace as if hadn’t ever expected to be held like that again. Your sweet Bucky, still so surprised that you could adore him as much as you did.  

“So, I will take your nightmares and your panic attacks,” you told him, smiling through the trembling in your lips. “I’ll take your bad days and share the weight you carry on your shoulders. I’ll take every ounce of shame and self-loathing you have until the day comes you can hardly feel it at all. I’ll take the empty side streets with you and we’ll drive so far out into the country side we’ll never hear a firework again.” 

Bucky chuckled at that, a smile pressing up along his cheek until you felt it under your palm.  

“I will take anything you throw at me,” you sighed, your thumb brushing over his lips, “as long as you’re mine. As long as I’m yours. That’s all I want, Bucky. It’s all I ask. Just you.” 

Bucky stared at you, a strange mixture of awe and disbelief on his features. You could see the hope burning behind his eyes, how badly he wanted to believe you, but doubt crept in and sunk its talons into his spine.  

His smile sank. “You’ve... you’ve already been through so much. I don’t know if I’m worth all that.” 

“You are.” You slid both hands along his cheeks, holding his gaze, until you leaned in closer, inch by inch, and pressed your lips to his forehead. Slow, lingering, you kissed his temples, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his jawline, pausing only when you found yourself a breath away from his lips.  

“You are, Bucky,” you said again, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks and catching a tear in its path. He bowed his head, a slight trembling in his jawline. It took everything you had not to collapse into him.  

“Honey, I promise you, it won’t always feel like this and I’ll convince you every day that you are enough, if you need me to,” you told him, your voice shaking as you held back tears. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever again.” 

You leaned forward to kiss the crown of his head and his whole body seemed to sink in response, lightening, as if he’d let go of a boulder strapped upon his shoulders. His muscles softened, the tension slipping from his spine, until slowly, he began to lift his head, hair parting away from his eyes. Though they were strained and red, a crystalized ocean current stared back at you.  

You could feel the ease in his body taking over, a realization and a determination present in his stare, in his body.  

His lips parted, a steady breath in. “I love you.” 

*** 

It was the easiest thing he’d ever said; slipped from his lips as if the words had simply tumbled out on their own. Lost in how tenderly you touched him, how your hands never once left his body even as he held himself firm as stone, how you entrusted him with the most painful parts of yourself, how you gently coaxed him away from the shadows threatening to drag him back into a darkness he’d never recover from – he’d never been so certain of anything in his life.  

“I love you,” he said again, just wanting to hear it one more time. His voice was stronger this time, steadier, and he could feel his cheeks curving up into a smile. It ached from disuse, but it was a pleasant feeling. A kind one.  

He slipped his hand to rest on yours as it laid against his face and gently pulled it back just enough to kiss at your palm. It wasn’t often he found you at a loss for words, but it he didn’t mind the silence, not like he did before. He could still hear the slight hitch of surprise in your breath, the nervous laughter carrying in your exhale. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it were even possible to love you more than he did in that moment.  

“Really?”  

God, you were so beautiful when you looked at him like that. Starry eyed and so full of hope.  

He nodded. “Yeah. I do.” 

You kissed him then, full on his mouth, arms thrown around his neck, and he had to stifle a laugh against your lips. He could feel the smile growing against him, laughing in between every kiss as the tears dried on your cheeks.  

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you beamed, drawing him in to kiss him again. 

He shouldn’t be surprised after all you’d said to him tonight, but it still fluttered in his chest, still caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach, still cast a blinding light deep into his heart that pushed out the remaining darkness lingering behind. His arm snaked around your back, holding you as tight against him as he could manage. He was breathless by the time you pulled away.  

“Will you stay?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous as his eyes flickered over to the bedroom door. “I know it’s a mess out here, but—” 

Your lips were on his again and he swore he’d never talk again as long as you kept kissing him like that. Slowly, you began to stand from the couch, tugging him along with you. He pulled away from your lips just long enough to navigate his way to the bedroom, stepping over broken glass and the remnants of his nightmare on the living room floor.  

His bedroom was untouched, at least. The sheets were thrown haphazardly off the bed, but other than that, it was pristine in comparison to the damage he’d done out there. A shame tried to work its way deep into his chest, but he felt your hand slip into his, carefully drawing him close to the bed, and it released him to your care.  

His back bounced against the mattress in tune with the sweet sound of your laughter as you crawled over him. Thighs caging his hips, you straddled his waist and he looked up at you, certain he’d find a glimmering shine of a halo behind your head. The moonlight touched over your shoulders as you leaned down against him, kissing his lips. 

He’d missed you so much. Those two weeks left him in a hole he couldn’t possibly dig himself out of on his own. He was scraping at the bottom, nails filled with dirt, digging himself deeper and deeper until he could no longer see the sunlight as it touched over the surface. It wasn’t until you jumped down into the pit with him that he noticed there were notches in a wall once perfectly smooth, allowing him to crawl his way back up to the top.  

You leaned back a little, breathless, as your hands slid along his chest. It was the first time he’d been so exposed in front of you, the scars and burns on full display, and he was surprised that there was no hesitancy in your touch, no reluctance as you brushed your fingertips over the corners of the damage to his skin. But you paused, eyes flickering to him.  

“Can I?” 

Bucky sighed, his heart aching. You knew how difficult it was for him, for you to see this part of him. He hadn't even taken off his jacket once in the first few weeks of knowing you. But now, he nodded eagerly, wanting to feel the tenderness with which you handled him upon the broken remains of his left side.  

Your hands slid up over his shoulder, brushing along the bumps and ridges in his skin. Hardened tissue and raised edges. The way you touched him, like he was something beautiful and adored, made his heart swell. It wasn’t until you leaned down to press a feathered kiss to his shoulder, just over the burn marks and the glimpse of what he’d lost, that he choked back tears.  

“Is it too much?” you asked, noticing the trembling in his lower lip, but he quickly shook his head. 

“It’s perfect,” he replied breathily, drawing you back to his lips. “You’re perfect. I don’t deserve—” 

“Hush,” you warned, kissing him to cut him off, “don’t talk about the man I love like that. You deserve every ounce of love I can give you, you hear me?” 

He stared at you for a moment, studying the sincerity on your features until the gravity of what you said sank in, and slowly, he nodded. It would take time to believe that, but he hoped the more you said it, the easier it would come. He’d believe just about anything if it came from your voice.  

“Let me show you.” 

Bucky stilled; his throat suddenly dry.

“Let me show you, Bucky,” you asked again, your lips against his neck. He shivered. You sucked at his skin, drawing a map along his collarbone. You tongue licked at the indent by his neck. “Please.” 

When you met his eyes again, Bucky wondered if maybe you saw him with the same wonder and enchantment with which he saw you. It only took the slight tilt of a nod before you crossed your arms over your waist and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head. Your bra came next and Bucky shifted uncomfortably, realizing you were still straddling him, his hardening length prominent against your thigh. 

He stared up at you, studying over the curves of your breasts, the dips in your hips, untouched and exposed – so incredibly beautiful.  

He stopped himself as the thought entered his mind, the wondering whether he deserved such beauty in his life, wondering how he’d managed to trick the cruel twist of karma to allow him to love a woman like this – to love you like this. 

He cast away the doubt, forcing it back to the shadows where it belonged. It was easier to do that when you smiled at him like that, like he was truly worth something.  

You laid down against his chest as his hand slid up along your spine, feeling for the slight dip in your back and the goosebumps following in his wake. You shivered under his touch and for the first time, Bucky remembered what it felt like to be wanted.  

He couldn’t stop kissing you, even as your hands slipped to his waistband. It was like you breathed new life back into him; reviving him with every touch.  

He helped you push down the band of his pants until you could easily drag it down his legs and drop it to the floor by his bed. It had been a long time since he was so vulnerable in front of a woman, but he didn’t mind when you looked at him the way you did. There was no ounce of judgement in your eyes, no cautious glance to his shoulder and the absence there. There was only love.  

You slipped the remaining clothes from your body and Bucky held his breath as you climbed over him again, straddling his waist, bare. 

Bucky was trembling as he reached for the drawer at his bedside. Blindly digging around for a box in the back of the drawer, he felt for the edge of foil wrapping. He brought it to his teeth, careful to rip the packaging, though as he held it in one hand, he let out a heavy sigh.  

“Would you...?” he asked, a blush creeping up into his cheeks.  

He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed, given that you were both naked, but this was one of those things he couldn’t do for himself. It would have felt emasculating if it weren’t for how eagerly you nodded and how good it felt as you placed the condom on his tip and slowly rolled it down his base. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow at the feeling, wondering how he was going to survive this. 

“You alright there, honey?” you called, giggling under your breath and, damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.  

“I won’t last long,” he admitted, his hand sliding up along your waist, thumb brushing over your breast. He tried to catch the whimper as it left his lips to no avail.  

You smirked. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you think?”  

You sank down on him and he choked back a moan, embarrassingly loud, but it only seemed to spur you on as you rolled your hips, giving him little time to adjust. You were so tight, squeezing around him, and – holy shit – when you dragged yourself against him, using him as you sought out the angle you were looking for, he’d never felt anything like it. 

He held his breath, focusing on the ceiling as he listened to the sweet sounds you made as your hands curled against his chest, hair falling down into your face. He knew he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted— hell, he would have stayed in you like this for hours if he could have – and it was taking near everything he had to hold out long enough for you to finish.  

Thankfully, you were just as riled up as he was – high on missing him, aching in the distance – and Bucky gasped as he felt your walls clench around him with the rushed circles between your legs. You picked up in pace and Bucky found himself meeting you half way, thrusting up into you as he braced himself on the headboard.  

“Oh God – Bucky,” you whimpered, your chest falling down to his, unable to hold yourself up. He kissed your neck, his hand sliding from around the wooden of the baseboard to grip your hips.  

If he could, he would have had a hand on your breast, teasing at the nipple, the other sliding down to the space between your bodies, rubbing circles on the nerves that left you so breathless you could hardly hold yourself up. But he was learning again, getting used to his body and his limits, and all he could focus on was holding you, guiding your hips, giving him leverage to fill you whole.  

Judging from the sounds you were making, your body molding like puddy against him, you didn’t mind at all. 

“I’m close,” you gasped, breath hot against his neck. “Ah, God, Bucky... I’m-- I’m--” 

He could feel it before the words left your lips, the clench in your walls, the spasms in your muscles that left you weak against him, overstimulated as you pulled your hand away from your clit. Your cries gave him the permission he needed to let go, only a few more thrusts was all it took, and he shuttered as he came.  

Breathless, hardly able to control the laugh as it bubbled in his chest, Bucky could hardly believe that he started this night in the darkest place he’d been in months, only to end up lying here with you, so full of light and love he could hardly stand it.  

He didn’t let you go at first, just wanting to hold you a little longer. He felt the sweet touch of your lips as they trailed along his neck, smile brimming against his ear. Then slowly, you rolled off of him, gently removing the condom and tossing it to the bin. A shiver slipped up his spine at the touch.  

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” Bucky confessed as you laid against his chest, curling up to his side. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Don’t let me do that again, okay? I can’t stand to go another day without you.” 

You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing along the lines on his shoulder, touching over old scars and burns. You traced them as if they were simply lines on his body, just another piece of him worth loving, worth memorizing. He wondered if the next time he saw them in the mirror, he might remember this moment and see them for something more than the evidence of his loss that day. Maybe, he might see them the way you did – as evidence of his survival.  

“I love you,” you sighed and Bucky felt his heart swell; it grew and expanded so wide inside his chest, he wondered if his bones might bend to make room as it split him so lovely at the seams.  

“I love you, too.” He curled his arm tighter around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side. Over your shoulder, a cast of moonlight seeped in through the windows, touching over your skin, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. He closed his eyes as sleep drew him near, comforted by the patterns you drew against his shoulder. 

When he fell asleep, he fell willingly – protected in your embrace, safe, from the nightmares laying in wake.

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. ) 

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin? 

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging. 

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel. 

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead. 

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

[irrlicht-writes]

of Rex Lapis and a young boy

“Do you love her?” “What do you want me to say?”

Say yes. Say yes so I can tell myself to stop. If you love her still, then there is no way that there’s place for me in you. Say yes so I can stop thinking, stop pretending. Say yes so I know that you don’t care for me. Say yes so that I know, once and for all, that mortals and gods are not supposed to be next to each other. Say yes so I can try to forget that you are my friend. Say yes so I can forget that you are my only friend. Say yes so I can slap myself and laugh and make a joke about how stupid I am. Say yes so I know that anytime you looked at me, you didn’t look at me at all. Say yes so I know that I’ll never be curious or kind enough. Say yes, so that I know I never mattered at all. | Zhongli would never love him. Zhongli could only love things that were long past, and Childe walked ever toward the future.

Ao3

*

Azhdaha.

Zhongli-xiansheng and the Traveller had left the Harbour for a while to go look at some stones – or something, Childe didn’t ask – and now they’ve returned.

It had stung, just a little bit, when he realised Xiansheng had just dumped him for their meal but that was okay. That was perfectly, absolutely fine. He hadn’t sat there for hours upon end, waiting for him and then heading to the Funeral Parlour just to learn that Zhongli had left the Harbour entirely. That was cool. It wasn’t like they told each other everything, right?

It’s not like Zhongli knew everything Childe was up to in Liyue.

But now they were back, sitting at the Storyteller’s. Zhongli-xiansheng looked great, even. Like he hadn’t missed Childe at all. Yeah. That was cool. Perfectly cool.

He wasn’t even interested in rocks, so no wonder they didn’t ask him to come along. Yeah. Right.

Zhongli told him about Azhdaha in a quiet tone, and Childe knew he wasn’t getting the whole story. The Traveller sat beside them, silent as ever. It was cool. Childe got the picture. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t as dumb as they thought him to be. Childe had heard that tone in Zhongli’s voice many times. For some reason, that tone had always struck him, but he had never been sure why.

He thought he knew, now.

It sounded like Zhongli was talking about something incredibly dear to him.

Not long after, Zhongli left, the Traveller close behind. They barely said good-bye and Childe smiled at them. He was acutely aware of the fact that they left without paying their tab. Yeah. That was fine, he’d just cover it.

“Storyteller,” he requested as he ordered himself the strongest drink this bar had, “can you tell me of Rex Lapis and the Mountain-Dragon?”

And so the Storyteller did.

*

The next day, Childe ventured into Nantianmen. He had seen the tree there before, but had thought little of it. Now, it was different. This is where Azhdaha had been sealed away, right beneath his feet. Zhongli’s friend.

Zhongli’s lover, even.

Back then, hearing about the Goddess of Dust had felt weird, like a mortal Zhongli pining for a Goddess dead way before his time. Now, after everything, it made more sense. When he talked about Azhdaha, Zhongli-xiansheng had the same look in his eyes. A soft, far-away look in his eyes that had always made Childe feel small and unimportant. Which was why, whenever he’d catch that look, he’d crack a joke, or point out a merchant stall.

He stepped closer to the tree and put his hand on the bark.

Did Zhongli come here, to be close to his old friend?

Zhongli never came to him, just to get him.

Always, it had been a matter Childe would have to settle with Mora somehow.

Had he ever been Zhongli’s friend, at all?

“What makes you so special?”

The tree, and the dragon hereby-under, don’t answer.

“Zhongli-xiansheng is rather busy, I apologise.”

To her credit, the Ferry lady did actually look sorry. It did little to stifle Childe’s mood, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. He wondered, idly, why it’s always him that reached out to Zhongli. Why was he the one clinging to a God that lied to him?

Well, maybe he was stupid after all.

He smiled at the Ferry lady and left her. He didn’t tell her to inform Zhongli that he’d been here. Somehow, he doubted that Zhongli would care either way. He pretended it didn’t hurt something in his chest, and returned to Northland Bank.

At least Ekaterina and the others there were forced to care about him. Oh, the luxury of being a Harbinger.

*

Despite him talking about her all the time, Childe knew next to nothing about Guizhong. There also wasn’t that much to find in books. Despite what people might think, Childe actually was a vivid reader. Granted, it tended to be adventure stories, not dry history, but he could expand.

But she had been Morax’ best friend.

And while the dry history books didn’t say it outright, it was clear as day: they all suspected the two to have been lovers in some capacity. The all-powerful Morax, and the sweet, gentle-hearted Guizhong. The perfect pair, even. He was strong where she was weak, and she was wise where he was not.

Childe wasn’t a romantic where it counted, but even he could see the potential in writing stories about a couple like that.

And she died, leaving Rex Lapis behind.

Childe looked out the window.

To be fair, he wasn’t sure why he read about Guizhong in the first place. What was he hoping to achieve? All the books he consumed about Rex Lapis have had a clear goal in mind: stealing the God’s Gnosis.

Not that that had worked, but semantics. Maybe Childe just wasn’t meant to steal someone’s heart.

He went to Guili Plains the next chance he got. He wasn’t sure why, but this place had been named after Guizhong and Zhongli. For all its historic worth, it look desolate. Rationally, Childe knew that a war has taken place here, but still, he had expected more, somehow. He had expected Rex Lapis to try and restore this place that he and his lost lover shared.

He was also a bit disappointed that there were no Glaze Lilies here. The books hadn’t shut up about Guizhong and Glaze Lilies. So much in fact that Childe had had his doubts on whether or not she’d really been the Goddess of Dust or Glaze Lilies.

He wondered what kind of man Zhongli would be today if Guizhong had not died. What kind of man he’d be if he hadn’t needed to seal the dragon away.

If that had been the case, then he probably wouldn’t have cared about Childe at all.

The hole in his chest hurt and he didn’t like it.

With his past dead, Zhongli’s eyes would glance across Childe.

If they had been alive, he wouldn’t have looked at Childe at all.

Wanting to stop, he killed the abyss mages.

*

There were Glaze Lilies blooming in the Harbour. He’s heard that they were cultured there artificially, because they were dying out. Zhongli must hate that fact. But that also meant that Childe of all people would probably not be able to actually approach the stupid flowers.

It had been days since they’ve last met, and Zhongli hadn’t come to him.

Childe felt like a broken tool. He wondered how long it would take him to get used to that feeling.

He wanted to see the flowers, so he snuck out at night. He knew there were some blooming behind the house on the Terrace, so he hoped he wouldn’t be spotted by the Millelith. It’d be hard to explain himself to Lady Ningguang for this, so he’d rather not.

Childe climbed the wall easily and quietly and sure enough, there they were – two Glaze Lilies, blooming under the moonlight. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Did he want to pick them to present them to Zhongli? Probably not.

He reached out with one finger, gently touching one of the petals. Somehow, he was afraid they’d wilt under his touch and die. But nothing happened. Childe sighed and lied down beside the flowers. The sky was clear and bright. When he closed his eyes, he could hear a soft humming in his ears and it filled him with longing for... something. Not a fight, not a victory, not even a loss, just – something. Something he couldn’t have.

“How did you do it?” He asked the flowers.

How did you make Zhongli fall in love with you? How did you make him look at you proper? How did you make him see you? How do you put that tone in his voice and how do you put that look in his eyes?

Childe sighed.

The flowers didn’t respond.

He thought of Azhdaha, who had looked upon the world with curiosity and had learned to love it through Morax.

He thought of Guizhong, who had looked upon her people with endless kindness and had taught Rex Lapis to do the same.

He was neither curious nor kind.

No wonder that Zhongli didn’t care to look at him.

*

Why had the Tsaritsa sent him here? Why couldn’t he have been in on the plan? He could’ve caused a havoc even knowing where Morax was. Why couldn’t he have taken the Gnosis after a done deed? Why did it have to be Signora?

He was Her Majesty’s vanguard, was he not?

Didn’t she think him capable enough?

Why couldn’t Signora have wrecked the city?

Why him?

Was he really only good for front-line mayhem, and nothing else?

The God he had spent so much time with hadn’t even looked at him when he handed his heart away.

The God Childe had believed to be his friend.

He had no friends, now.

Childe put his report away and left the Bank.

It was late, and everything in him yearned for his home.

His home, where his parents would watch him with wary eyes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come back, when he’d fallen.

When will he hurt Tonia? When will he take Anthon and Teucer, and turn them into monsters too? When will he reveal that our son has never come back at all? How long will this facade last?

He would smile at them, and pretend he didn’t know. He’d pretend that these months had never happened and that they still loved him unconditionally.

He reached the pier and sat down. He wanted to go fishing again.

The water gently dipped at the stone and Childe sighed. He wondered, did Morax laugh at him? Each time Childe had thought he’d been sleek, getting more information from Zhongli, had the God laughed at his ignorance?

But Zhongli had seemed so content, so willing to answer all of Childe’s questions.

It’s an important part of Liyuean’s cuisine, Childe. Please use the chopsticks.

Had Morax been making fun of him?

He’d never hear the end of it, back home in Snezhnaya. He could already hear Scaramouche’s snicker in his ear.

His mark had been right there next to him, ever-correcting the Harbinger’s grip on the chopsticks, and Childe had never known.

A one-way tool of war was probably the best thing he could ever be.

He could neither be curious or kind.

How would a guy like him ever gain the affection of the divine?

“You cannot sleep?”

Childe didn’t turn around.

What did it matter, anyway?

Zhongli sat down beside him with a small sound, reminding Childe how old this man truly was. He’d been a fool. How could Zhongli ever be his friend, with all their differences?

“Tell me a story.”

“What do you want to hear?”

Childe was silent for a moment.

Tell me how I can make you look at me. How can I be kind, or curious enough for you to gain your affection? Tell me how I can make myself significant to you. Tell me how I can be a friend that you’ll remember. Tell me, please. Tell me how to be important to you.

“I don’t know.”

Childe was staring at the water down below. Zhongli’s contract was fulfilled. There was nothing more they had to talk about. Why did Zhongli even acknowledge him? He should’ve just kept walking.

“You have gone to Guili Plains.”

“...yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see,” Childe replied in a hushed voice.

Truth was, he didn’t know. Maybe he had expected the ghost of Guizhong to descend upon him and tell him everything he’d need to know. A stupid, childish thought. She hadn’t come, and his questions have been left unanswered. A god would never descend for him, anyway.

“What did you find?”

“Nothing,” Childe said. “Why didn’t you restore the Plains?”

“Why would I?”

“Because of Guizhong.”

“It’s the place I lost her in. It is difficult to go there, even after all these centuries.”

What did it feel like, making such an impact on an immortal being?

Every time he returned home, he ventured out into the woods again. Some part of him wanted to find the crack in the earth again, where he lost himself and found himself at the same time. Maybe he also hoped he’d find a little Ajax lost in the woods. He didn’t know.

“Do you love her?”

“What do you want me to say?”

Say yes. Say yes so I can tell myself to stop. If you love her still, then there is no way that there’s place for me in you. Say yes so I can stop thinking, stop pretending. Say yes so I know that you don’t care for me. Say yes so that I know, once and for all, that mortals and gods are not supposed to be next to each other. Say yes so I can try to forget that you are my friend. Say yes so I can forget that you are my only friend. Say yes so I can slap myself and laugh and make a joke about how stupid I am. Say yes so I know that anytime you looked at me, you didn’t look at me at all. Say yes so I know that I’ll never be curious or kind enough.

Say yes, so that I know I never mattered at all.

“...say yes, then.”

Childe didn’t remember when he drew his legs in and hugged his knees. He felt smaller and younger than he had in years. Skirk would kill him for this position but she’d never know.

“You’re in pain,” Zhongli said instead and Childe almost wanted to laugh.

“No,” he responded, “I haven’t been in a fight in days.”

“Not all pain is physical, Childe.”

What did he care? Childe wished he’d stop. It was these sorts of talks that put Childe in this situation. If Zhongli would just stop pretending he cared, it’d be all so much easier.

“Kun Jun gave this to me,” Zhongli said and held out his hand, a pretty rock upon it.

For the first time, Childe turned his head. It was a pretty thing, he thought.

“Kun Jun?”

“One aspect of Azhdaha.”

Ah. Yes, the other lost lover. Childe tensed his jaw. Why was Zhongli showing this to him? Was he mocking Childe?

Look, all these pretty things you bought me, and still I value the rock my old lover gave to me more.

There it was again, the pang in his chest. Zhongli never carried around the things he made Childe buy. And now here he was, carrying around some rocks this Kun Jun picked up from the ground?

“It’s pretty,” Childe said then. He didn’t know what else to say and Zhongli clearly cherished this rock.

Mora couldn’t buy someone’s affection. It could buy him any favour he’d ever wanted, but he could never buy genuine feelings. Their friendship had been a farce from the start. Zhongli had used him, just like Her Majesty and Signora had used him.

“It was good, seeing him again,” Zhongli sat, gently holding the stone in his hand. “But it hurt, as well, knowing I’d have to seal him away once more.”

“I’m sorry,” Childe said and he wanted to take the rock and throw it in the ocean.

He bought Zhongli so many things, and he valued none of them. For all he knew, Zhongli had thrown them aside the second Childe had turned his back. He’d never be important enough to Zhongli, so why did he even try? Why did he ever bother? He had wanted to invite Zhongli to his home, to meet his family. He had wanted to show his parents that he was still good, still their son, and that he made a genuine friend.

He couldn’t do that now. At best, Zhongli was a former business associate. Not his friend. Never his friend.

Zhongli didn’t say anything and Childe suspected he was deep in memories. He wanted to stand up and leave but he couldn’t.

“Liyue Harbour exists today because of Guizhong,” he said then and Childe curled up in himself. Just rub it in. How would Childe ever compete?

A curious dragon with pretty eyes and pretty rocks, and a gentle soul of a Goddess with beautiful, humming flowers next to her, an entire city dedicated to her?

What was he against them?

A reckless, arrogant toy soldier. The only thing he was good at was fighting and even then, Morax would be able to beat him blind-folded.

“Without her, I would have never been able to appreciate humans. To me, they were barely a duty, a responsibility, not something worthy of love. But she walked among them, empathised with them and through her and for her, I was able to do the same.”

Childe was a human. But he wasn’t part of the humans Zhongli spoke about. He wished he could take that part out of himself; the part that made his chest hurt. He’d rather endure the pain of his transformation.

“When she died, I was devastated and I wrecked havoc on my enemies. They had killed the gentlest soul I would ever know and they did not deserve mercy for it. But I knew, I knew that that wasn’t what she’d want. She’d want me to protect our people, to become the leader she never got the chance to be. So I taught them to build houses, I taught them to make stoves. And these days, I believe she would be proud of what I achieved.”

He was saying yes, and it hurt. Everything Zhongli had done had been for her. But maybe – maybe that was a good thing. He could let go now, right? He knew know, he had audible confirmation that Zhongli would never look at him, would never care for him. He wasn’t good enough. Nobody would ever build a city for him.

He had to go. He had to leave. He couldn’t see Zhongli again. His feet itched, but he couldn’t move. Zhongli would never love him. Zhongli could only love things that were long past, and Childe walked ever toward the future.

“Why are there no Glaze Lilies in Guili Plains?”

“They are a delicate flower, and Guili Plains turning desolate was too much for them to handle. But if you want to get poetic, then Guizhong’s demise surely had something to do with it.”

Childe wondered. If he died, would – would something wither for him? The seashells he was so fond of, would they crack?

“You miss her.”

“Yes.”

Will you miss me is a question left unasked.

Childe took a deep breath. He would fill the gaping hole inside his chest with blood and glory.

“I have something for you.”

Childe blinked. He didn’t remember buying something. He looked over to Zhongli, who held a sword out to him.

“I have been meaning to give it to you for a while but ah, things got in the way.”

Childe reached for the handle and held the sword up against the moonlight. The blade was green. He’d never seen a weapon like that before.

“I crafted it myself long ago. The blade is cut from the purest jade. I made it for a friend, but sadly, they never got to use it.”

“I...” Childe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t use a sword much these days, but he could appreciate good craftsmanship. And really, he could never have enough weapons.

“Thank you,” was what he settled on and Zhongli smiled at him.

“You wished to hear a story,” Rex Lapis said and Childe nodded, holding his new gift close.

“Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a boy. The boy would never learn to fear the God he met and instead, would always smile brightly at him. Some might say the boy was ignorant of who he met, but Rex Lapis greatly enjoyed the company of the boy, unburdened by the past. It’s the tale of Rex Lapis, a god feared for his wrath, and a young boy with kind eyes and a gentle soul, ever ready to overtake the world and unafraid to walk in front of a god he ought to fear.

Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a young boy who showed him the light of the sun again.”

Perhaps this was alright. Maybe Rex Lapis would always be stuck in the past and Childe would always walk ahead into the future. As Childe listened to Rex Lapis tell him an ancient tale, he fell asleep next to his friend Zhongli, a green sword tightly hugged to his chest.

He dreamed of a field full of flowers and a god and a boy, holding hands, walking towards the gentle brushing of the sea at the shore.

[yanderecandystore]

I have a request for you, of course if you want to do it... How would it be if yandere had a cute, delicate and innocent appearance and extremely intelligent, who uses this to manipulate everyone around him to his will (after all who would suspect a cute boy and innocent - who is actually a real manipulator and strategist). And then the reader appears (a new person in town or a new student), then he falls in love with her...

So I was writing this but then I started overcomplicating the story and it was a MESS! So I decided to write it all again boo, sorry for the waiting!

It's not really long, and it's not exactly great but I hope you like it!

TW/Tags: Manipulation // gaslighting // Reader is a college student just having a hard time surviving, she is easily aggravated // evil little man // delusional mindset // condescending behavior // mentions of some mildly nasty/stalker behavior.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Macchiato [Yandere!M! Manipulative x F!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Oh Valentin, oh Valentin!

A regular customer at the café you work for, and also a fellow classmate at your university. You practically saw each other everyday, almost every single hour of the day!

It has been two weeks since you have been working here, yet it has been a month since you first started attending college and let me tell you- You have only heard one thing come out of everyone's mouth: Valentin.

Over and over and over and OVER again.

The first few times, you didn't think much of it- It's just a famous guy around your college, at the time you have never seen him before so you could only create mental images of him based on what people told you.

He was older than you yet seemed to have a more delicate appearance than anyone you know, a gentle type of cute. Messy strawberry blonde hair, soft light brown eyes, a bit of a shorty but honestly is not like that's a problem at all.

You kinda assumed he probably was a small celebrity, probably an Instagram model, or a small YouTuber, I don't know, SOMETHING other than just cute. Even after meeting him and understanding why people were so quick to fall head over heels for him you still felt like he probably had more to him than just his appearance.

Maybe you were a bit tired of being constantly reminded everyday of how much people worshiped this guy for no apparent reason, to the point you started to act a bit bitterly towards him- Of course, you didn't mean to be so passive-aggressive with someone you barely knew, yet the frustration of being constantly told he is perfect and all of that has led you to believe he probably is overly confident and sees himself as better than everyone else.

But of course, you didn't have anything to hold that claim. It was just a ridiculous accusation based on how tired you are of seeing people be so obsessed with him and dependent on him. Always asking him for favors, always trying to catch up with him, always asking if he came by and where did he go afterwards- It's almost sickening how many people have stood in line just to ask you about him instead of ordering something, thankfully your boss hasn't noticed this, otherwise he would probably find it bad for his business to have people constantly take your time and the time of other customers.

And as you continue to attend customers at the counter, trying to keep up with your math while dozing off thinking about cute men, as if it was on cue: He arrives, looking as charming and cheerful as ever. Not that you think he is charming or anything like that- Is just that facts can't be ignored, okay?

" Oh, great! Speaking of the devil!-" Just his presence makes you lose it. It's not even his fault- You try reminding yourself that but you honestly can't stand this routine anymore!

He comes, he gets his usual order, he pays and gets out- Then later a couple of his "friends" (more like fans) come by and ask if he was here. It's almost hilarious how each day he comes earlier and earlier, you almost feel like he is avoiding meeting with these people.

"- Hmmm- Are you okay? You seem more distracted than usual." His short giggles made you come back to reality after realizing he was talking to you this whole time.

"- Yeah sorry, I just- It's been a busy day today, what would you like?" You forced a smile while trying to recompose yourself, you weren't really lying either: You were really tired as you haven't slept the day before, and you did have a busy day- And after hearing every single one of your classmates worshiping the ground he walks on, you just kinda feel more and more sluggish.

Valentin ordered the usual, a cup of macchiato with a slice of plain cheesecake so he could have it now, but this time he had something else planned in mind.

"- So, when it's your lunch break?" He asked, you almost felt his voice get softer as he was trying to get you to look him in the eyes.

"- Hmm, in half an hour- Why?" You didn't see a problem with telling him that, you were barely awake anyway.

"- I was wondering if we could hangout, I just wanted to ask you about something- Don't worry, I won't take your time!" This is the first time he ever asked this, it's really weird to hear him ask you to spend time with him considering how you two don't know each other that well.

"- … Oh- Sure?! Yeah, sure." You were out of words at the moment, you didn't know if you really wanted to accept his offer or if you felt awkward about saying "no", but maybe this won't be so bad right? Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing something else on your break, it won't take too long- You hope.

When you finally got to take a break you almost forgot that Valentin wanted to ask you something, only remembering it when you found him still sitting in one of the tables inside the café- Waiting for you to sit with him. You felt a bit embarrassed for forgetting something so quickly, especially since you were already grabbing your stuff to go back home for a quick meal and some relaxing alone time- Still, you hoped he didn't notice your guilty expression, at least he didn't say anything about it.

Honestly, talking with him like this can be pretty awkward on it's on, you two barely find something to talk about so most of the time you're just making small talk about college and your job, maybe it's because you didn't like sharing too much of yourself but you normally don't like answering more personal questions, for example: Your hobbies and personal interests, your thoughts outside the realm of your job or college, your relationships, and the places you like to go to on your spare time.

Valentin was… Interesting, to say the least, he would find a way to ask odd questions about your personal life without making it sound like a big deal of it. You have seen him doing it with others a lot and occasionally you find yourself getting caught on one of his tricks. You almost told him your address once, but due to a creeping feeling in your guts, you lied about it by telling him a fake direction to your house.

Oddly enough, he would drop the subject just as quickly as it came, it's almost as if he had never asked it in the first place. You didn't know if that made you feel more or less comfortable to be around him, it's something about how casually he talks with you and everyone else- Almost as if he was interviewing everyone around like they're celebrities or something- Makes you worried about his presence.

As usual your small talk would come to an end after a very brief and vague conversation about how your day has been, Valentin is more of a listener than a talker after all, but still- You were getting bored and decided to speed up the conversation.

"- So, what did you want to ask me?" You sighed looking at your phone to check the time, wondering how much time you have until your next shift.

"- Oh! Right, I'm sorry I almost forgot- Cheryl and I are working on having a party this weekend, so I was wondering if you would come with us?" Cheryl, huh? You thought she didn't like spending time with huge groups of people-

"- Cheryl Williams? That's odd, I thought she was more of a shy girl-" You're a bit intrigued but still a bit apprehensive.

"- I know right? I still can't really believe it either, but she came to me one day and asked me to help her break out more from her shell, so we came up with a party plan- But don't worry, it isn't a really huge event, not a lot of people will be going." He answered without ever taking away that sweet smile, as unlikely as his story sounded it seemed to be true, he spoke with a lot of confidence and you don't have any reasons to not trust his word, but even so- It doesn't sound like a good idea, maybe you should talk with her first.

"- Sorry, but I don't know yet, I'll probably be busy this weekend." You didn't know for sure if you would be free this weekend, but generally your boss doesn't ask you to work on weekends unless it's to substitute someone else, and you weren't sure if you would need to use that time to study or not, so basically you didn't lie- But maybe you weren't so honest as you could have been.

To be fair, you would have loved going to a small party with Cheryl, she was a nice girl from your class and despite her timid personality you got along with her just fine. Which is kinda weird- You're only hearing about this now, if she wanted to invite you she would have said something herself, right?

"- Oh… I- I see. I'm sorry for taking your time-" He stuttered, making you feel slightly guilty for kinda rejecting his offer. Still, it's your choice, nothing's wrong with that, right?

"- It's fine, I'm just not-" You were trying to find words to alleviate the situation, but you were interrupted with a loud whisper.

"- It's because of me isn't it?" Was he asking that to himself or to you? You couldn't tell, but you did feel a bit called out on it.

"- Hm- I just didn't want to go?" This is getting a bit awkward, you simply don't know what to say in this situation.

"- But- I thought you and Cheryl were friends. I think she would really appreciate it if you could make it." He spoke in a soft yet still oddly accusatory tone for someone so gentle.

"- I- I'll probably be busy like I said-" You feel oddly exposed, uncomfortably so! You don't remember the last time he acted like this. Hell, have you ever even seen him acting like this??

"- Just now you said you just didn't want to go. Which is it?" He kept going in, kept pushing your buttons...

"- What's with this sudden interrogation, I just don't know yet, Jesus Christ…" You were already dealing with a lot of pressure, and being suddenly pushed to a metaphorical corner made you feel stressed out.

"- Well, if the problem it's me then I don't think you should push it on your friend." He accused you while trying to clean off his eyes- Valentin was known for being quite sensitive, at least most believe so.

"- What are you even saying?!" You're baffled by the implications he is giving- Though it's true you don't want to be around him, you're not trying to harm Cheryl at all, you just want to talk with her away to understand this whole party nonsense!

"- Don't play dumb, every day I try getting to know you but you treat me harshly every time like I'm a nuisance!" He slammed his fists on the table, but it was too soft to make much noise, however that didn't stop it from making you go nuts over his pettiness.

"- Damn, maybe you are then! Have you ever thought about just- I don't know, leaving me alone?!" You were running your mouth at this point, full rage just taking over your thoughts while you had a hard time reading the room. People were now watching you two, but you didn't notice it.

"- Why are you so hostile towards me? What have I ever done to you?" Was he being sincere as he asked that? Were the tears running through his eyes true? You didn't know, but it had taken you back as you started to feel your anger being replaced with guilt.

"- It 's- Nothing! Nothing, you did absolutely nothing, I'm just so tired of having to see you and having to hear about you from everyone else's mouth every second of the day-" You tried to answer his question, but the more you talk the less sense you start to make- You were starting to sound like a real douche.

"- You hate me because people talk about me?" He seemed offended but mostly speechless at your poor choice of words, and you wondered if perhaps you are truly being unreasonable.

"- I don't hate you, I just- Why do you even talk to me if you think I hate you?!" You still can't back down now, you don't know why, but you still feel the need to find a way to defend yourself-

"- Because maybe I'm trying to be your friend?? Ever thought of that??" He coughed as if the reason for him constantly bothering you was obvious.

"- WHY THOUGH-" You couldn't help but raise your voice in disbelief. What was his problem?! You just didn't want to answer him now, why was he making such a big deal out of it??

Why is everyone staring at you like that?? He's been constantly coming to your work despite the fact you already see each other every day in your classes, are you in the wrong for questioning him?

"- …" For a moment, he was silent. The only thing coming from him were tears and rapid rises from his chest, as if he was struggling to hold himself from completely breaking.

"- …. Your friend is trying to become a more sociable person, she needs someone by her side… But you won't go because of me, will you?" He looked at you dead in the eye, but didn't give you any time to respond- But it wouldn't have mattered since you were now getting less and less proud of yourself in your current situation.

"- What a wonderful friend you are, [Y/n]." And after saying that he left, leaving only his money to pay for his coffee and cheesecake.

You were left wondering what the hell just happened to you, people were staring without knowing what happened but inside your head you thought that they had listened to everything you said- Judging you for acting the way you did, especially at your own job.

Were you really treating him so harshly? You didn't think you were, you normally are just so tired with everything that you don't see yourself being mean- Or maybe you're just saying that to protect yourself?? Questions keep storming in your head while you feel yourself get consumed by shame.

This whole interaction felt like a nightmare- As much as you blame yourself for acting impulsively and yelling at him, you can't shake the feeling that maybe you're not the only villain in this story.

Was he… Did he try getting on your nerves on purpose? The sinking feeling that maybe something horrible is about to happen makes you think that yes!

Maybe you should call Cheryl as soon as you can! Sadly, your break time seems to be already over, you'll have to wait until you're done for today.

Oh [Y/n], oh [Y/n]!

Not much of a talker due to constantly being tired from work and college, people tend to look past you as if you were a ghost! A very small number of friends from your friend group, and soon the number will equate to zero.

He always tried so hard to get your attention, he did everything he could to make you fall for him like he did everyone else- Being the cute yet twisted prince charming that he is, he couldn't bear to see a maiden not fall to his feet and kiss his boots. Valentin has worked so hard to maintain a certain status, that seeing a rule breaker like you makes him sick yet intrigued.

Maybe after trying so hard to make you fall for him, he was the one that was caught in your spell, or maybe after pretending so much he has completely lost the script! Is his feelings true or just a sick fantasy of unobtainable power? Who's to say!

But darling, darling, darling [Y/n]! You've been so cruel, so mean to poor little Valentin, you never reciprocate the same things he does for you! His attention, his breath, his fantasies, his power over the weak, he would give this all for you if you could start to show a little more care for your prince.

You haven't sing him a song like he has done for you, you haven't written his name all over the walls like he has done for you, you haven't pushed obstacles away for him like he has done for you-

You probably don't even think of him at night like he has thought about you, you're so mean [Y/n]! Someone must remind you of all the things he can give you.

Someone must remind you who's in power around this place, and maybe then he can finally be satisfied and get bored by your stubborn self.

It was… Harsh, to hear you yell at him like that. He must admit it did hurt a bit to hear you say such awful things, but even so, he is so glad you said them!

He now has proof of your resentment towards him! Even if he does need to alter some aspects of it, the audio he recorded from your little fight was essentially perfect! While you were taking your time doing your job, he started to record the whole thing with his cellphone, how silly of you dearest to not notice! You wanted people to leave you alone and stop talking about him to you, now no one will be able to stand your presence.

" [Y/n] has yelled at the most beloved student in class while also insulting those who like him by considering them a nuisance! " It was perfect on it's on, but the absolute cherry on top would be Cheryl's reaction to all of this. Cheryl is such a naive and insecure girl, hearing you act so horribly to be invited to her party would absolutely break her.

Cheryl did come for his help with her social insecurities but Valentin was the one who suggested the party idea, even suggesting that he should be the one to ask you to come over.

The most loyal person that you could have as a friend would be gone, people around you would consider you unreasonable for yelling at him for nothing, it was a great plan.

Your only last option would be to apologize to him personally for him to be able to fix your social life, and although messing with you took a lot of time and effort he still got to make a flawless plan in the end.

Ugh, he is exhausted, having to pretend to be so sad it's so tiresome, he would never say it out loud but he needs a little cheeky kiss- To make up for all the time he has been obsessing relentlessly over you, and for you not giving him some love in return.

All he has to do now is fix up the audio and share it with everyone he can.

[arvinsescape]

Behind his back.

A/N: Darker fic for me to write but i’d had this idea for a while and i really hope you enjoy, please do read at your own risk as i have given warnings! 

Summary: Y/N goes behind Tom’s back and gets herself into a terrible situation.

Warnings: Swearing, death, gore, violence, general mob stuff, knife use, gun mentions and smut (oral fem r), unprotected sex (please practise safe sex) Minors do not engage. 

This is a darker one shot so please only engage if you feel comfortable, i have put all the warnings in.

W/C: 6.6K

You knew you shouldn’t be here, you knew how dangerous it was, Tom had specifically asked you to sit this one out but you didn’t listen. You knew coming here could be the end of it all for you, you could easily lose your life tonight but you were optimistic, confident in your abilities. You wondered briefly if Tom would kill you himself if he found out you’d deliberately disobeyed him.

You were a card Tom kept close to his chest, only bringing you in when he felt it was absolutely necessary. Most people assumed you were just an ordinary woman, only a few of Tom’s close friends knew who you were, most of his men didn’t even know you existed. He only ever met you at your house and it was always at some ungodly hour, making the sneaking in and out easier.

You remember when you first started working for Tom, you were initially sent to gain information from him by your previous employer. He caught onto your act after a while and found himself so impressed by your ability that he hired you to extract information for him.

“I should get going.” You said as you removed yourself from Tom’s lap, you’d been flirting all night, of course this was part of your plan. You’d been touchy feely for a good hour by this point, making it easier to take the document you needed from his pocket and discreetly slip it into your bra.

“But I was having so much fun darling.” He smirked, if this had of been any other night, you’d have let him take you home. He was by far the most attractive man you’d ever had to extract information from.

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You flirted back and made your way to the back exit of the club, hoping to slip into the night and deliver the piece of paper that was still wedged into your bra.

You made it outside in the alleyway between the club and the building next door when you felt an arm wrap around your waist. You almost screamed but remembered the last thing you needed to do was draw attention to yourself, especially when Tom owned this club, you couldn’t have him finding out what you’d done, it’d blow everything.

“Not so fast darling.” You relaxed slightly when you heard his voice, melting into his hold only slightly.

“I told you I was tired and I’m heading home.” You said innocently and he chuckled before turning you around and pinning you to the wall, arms either side of your head and you felt your breath hitch at the closeness. You knew you could have given him a good kick between the legs and bolted but you didn’t want to. You’d heard he was dangerous yet you doubted he’d hurt you.

“I think you have something of mine.” He said as he peppered kisses along your throat and you shivered in his hold.

“I don’t think so.” You said again and he chuckled before moving his hands to your waist, your hands finding his hair as he continued to kiss along your neck, hands sliding up your sides and you found yourself panting as you grew aroused.

“Tom.” You said as he sucked on your neck, leaving a mark. He hummed as his hands slipped further up your sides, cupping your breast with one hand.

“You gonna hand it over? Or am I gonna have to take it?” He said as he brought his face back to yours, lips inches from your own. “You’re good, had me fooled. If only Haz hadn’t have asked to see the paper, you’d have gotten away with stealing it.” You laughed slightly as you realised you may as well drop the innocent act.

“Dam Harrison then.” You said and he threw his head back as he laughed.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game princess. How do you know I’m not going to kill you for stealing from me, I’ve killed people for less you know?” He said and although you should have been intimidated you weren’t, you were so wrapped up in his scent and just him.

“If you were going to kill me, I assume you would have done by now.” You said confidently, your lips where still inches apart and you were fighting everything in you not to close the distance. You felt yourself become disappointed as he moved away from you and held his hand out.

“True. I still want it back though.”

“How do you know I still have it on me?” You tried.

“I don’t for certain but I assume you do. Hand it over and I’ll give you something in return.” He said and you found yourself hoping that meant an absolute railing in this alleyway. You pondered over the idea before you sighed.

“I can’t. The people I work for won’t be happy, they’ll kill me. So I suppose I have to make a choice, let you kill me or them, either way I’m fucked.” You said, the atmosphere shifting from playful to serious as he furrowed his brows as if deep in thought.

“I’m not going to kill you but I am going to take my documents back.” He said after a while and you gasped slightly as he pinned you back to the wall, hand reaching between your breasts as he pulled the paper from your bra. You moved to snatch the paper back from him, ready to hit him and run but he was much faster than you.

“You know who I am don’t you?” He asked and you nodded your head. “I can make the people you work for disappear, make sure you’re safe, I just want one thing in return.” He spoke again.

“You don’t even know who I work for.” You said.

“True, I don’t but it doesn’t really matter. Tell me who they are and I’ll make them go away.” He said and it sounded as if he was trying to reassure you.

“What do you want from me?” You spoke after a moment.

“I want you to work for me.”

That was that, he indeed did get rid of the mobster you previously worked for, you still don’t know what he did and ultimately didn’t care. Tom was a much less demanding employer and always made sure you were safe, he didn’t leave you to fend for yourself, ever. You were yet to see where he lived, he didn’t want anyone to accidently see you and make any connection, he wouldn’t endanger you like that.

You were head over heels for him, completely in love, nothing ever happened between the two of you. There had been a couple of occasions where you’d thought he was so protective over you because he liked you back but after months of him not making a move and last weeks words, you realised that you were just a good business investment and that’s why you were so well protected.

You knew you were here tonight because you were in love with him, because you wanted to prove yourself to him, make him see you were more capable than he gave you credit. You weren’t just some girl who was good at flirting and stealing. James Kane was a dangerous man, he didn’t care if you were male or female, if he wanted you out of the way, you were dead. There were rumours he’d killed his ex-wife so she wouldn’t get any of his money in the divorce.

He’d become a thorn in Tom’s side and Tom was growing desperate to get him off the board, that had sparked the argument you’d had last week.

“Tom, I can do it!” You practically begged him. “I know where he’s going to be, it’ll be easy. He wouldn’t suspect a thing, he’s too arrogant to believe a woman could outsmart him.”

“Y/N.” Tom sighed as he stood from your couch. “No. I will not have you in the same vicinity as him, I can’t go with you, he knows who I am.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, he wasn’t used to people arguing his authority.

“Send me in with someone else.” You pleaded.

“No.” He said. “You’re not going, end of.” He snapped.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” You said and he almost pinned you to the spot with his stare, you’d annoyed him.

“I pay you to do what you do remember.” He snapped. “You’re not going, it’s too dangerous.” He said.

“So what? Why do you care so much?” You almost screamed in frustration.

“Because I-“ He cut himself off.

“Because what Tom?” You shouted and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought for a moment.

“Because you are a very valuable asset that I can’t afford to lose.” He said and your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You really were just a good business deal. “You’re not going and that’s final, I’ll find another way to deal with him.” He didn’t give you chance to respond as he slammed the door to your home shut, leaving you crying.

You hadn’t spoken to him since, you were angry at him, you wanted to get this information from James and hand it to him personally and gloat. You realised it was probably stupid to think this way, you wanted him to love you back so badly that you were here tonight, putting your life in danger. You were currently seated on James lap as you flirted, your phone had now been buzzing in your bag for ten minutes.

“You should probably get that.” James spoke into your ear and you had to fight the urge to vomit as his hand trailed up your thigh, nothing like the night you’d flirted with Tom, you hadn’t been acting then.

“That would be so rude of me though.” You said as you leant your head back onto his shoulder, you needed to fish around for the documents soon and you knew it but you had to play carefully, you were on your own, no back up.

“I don’t mind.” He said as he licked a stripe up your neck and you shivered but not in a good way, thankfully he thought it was. You turned and kissed his cheek as you grabbed your phone from your bag, James’s arms looped around your waist.

You furrowed your brows as you checked your screen.

Tom: 40 missed calls.

Tom: 13 new messages.

“Who’s Tom? Boyfriend?” He said and you put your phone back into your bag after switching it off.

“My brother.” You lied, hoping he’d drop it.

“Seems pretty clingy.”

“He probably wants a lift home from his night out.” You spoke and James kissed your shoulder. “I’m just gonna go to the toilet, I’ll be back in a minute.” You said as you kissed his cheek once more.

You removed yourself from his lap and made your way into the bathroom, splashing water over your face as you sighed and looked into the mirror.

“Come on Y/N, you can do this. You don’t need his protection for everything.” You pep talked yourself, your nerves were getting the better of you. You were also panicking now because Tom was trying to get hold of you and you never ignored his calls, he was gonna be even more pissed at you. You made your way into a stall and as you locked the cubicle you heard someone else enter the bathroom, assuming it was a woman here to do her makeup.

You made your way out of the cubicle and your blood ran cold as you saw James leant against the sinks, arms folded as he pierced you with his gaze, the piece of paper you wanted to get hold of was held in one of his hands. He knew and you were fucked.

“I was gonna give you more time, but I assume you lost your nerve. He’s not sent you with anyone tonight has he?” He spoke and you tried to compose yourself, play innocent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said and he shot you a glare so foul you knew you were done for.

“Don’t play dumb with me you stupid bitch.” He spat and you started weighing up your options in your head, you had to get away. “You honestly think I don’t know who you are. Very cute pet he has.” He spoke again, you needed to keep him talking whilst you weighed up your escape.

“How did you find out?” You went with.

“Tom put his trust in the wrong man. Jacob isn’t as trustworthy as you think, worked for me for years. He told me all about you and how precious you are. He doesn’t know you’re here tonight does he?” He spoke so honestly and you knew in that moment that his intention was to kill you, he didn’t need to hold back because in his mind you were a dead woman walking. Your blood pumping was pounding in your ears as he spoke.

“Tom wouldn’t be so stupid as to send you to me, no. You’ve come here off your own back.” He deduced. “Shame it’ll be the last decision you ever make.”

You bolted towards the door and James caught you, arms around your waist and you panicked, shoving your heel into his foot, he screamed in pain as he let go of you and you took the opportunity to kick him between his legs before bolting out of the bathroom.

You knew you couldn’t go to the entrance of the club, too many of James’ men were around so you bolted out of the fire escape and into the alleyway. You hastily took your heels off and threw them so you could run faster, you made your way into a different alley nearby, the area was quiet, no people around. You fished around in your bag for your phone and as you went to switch it on, you felt a body collide with your own.

“You fucking bitch.” James spat as he pinned you to the ground, your phone went flying and you watched with disbelief as it went down a drain, this was it, you were going to die and all you could think about was how you should have listened to Tom. “He’s not worth dying for you know.” James spat again and you felt the tears slip from your eyes. “Don’t cry, I’ll make it quick.” He said as he wiped at your tears and you felt around you for something, anything you could use. Your heart rate sped up as your hand gripped a rock and you used all your force to hit him in the temple with it.

He groaned as the force knocked him onto his side, you were quick to stand as you ran out of the alley and just as you were about to reach the opening a hand gripped your ankle and pulled you onto your front and you cried out in pain. You felt the blood trickle from your head as it collided with the concrete. He turned you over and you fought against him as he straddled you.

“You really are a feisty thing, I can see why Tom likes you. Bet you’re a good fuck, that’s why he keeps you around.” You studied his face and saw his head was split where you’d hit him with the rock and given his position over you some trickled down the side of his face and off his chin, onto your own face. Tears were streaming down your face as he spoke.

“Wait. He’s not fucked you has he. Fucking coward. Has he not told you he’s in love with you?” James taunted making your heart hurt at the thought of Tom and how you were probably never going to see him again. He laughed as he realised he was right. “I want you to beg for him, I want you to beg for him to save you.”

“Fuck you.” You said as you spat at him, he lifted a hand to wipe it away and you took the opportunity to punch him in the gut as you tried to roll him off you but it was no use, he was much stronger and heavier than you.

“You silly little cunt. I was gonna make it quick but now I think I’ll savour it, then I can tell Tom how he wasn’t fast enough, how he couldn’t save you. It’ll kill him to know he couldn’t save you. You’re gonna beg for him and the last thing you’ll ever remember is how much you begged for him to save you and he couldn’t.” He said as he got a knife out of his pocket, your eyes widening as he brought it to your face.

“Such a pretty face, it’ll be a real shame that he won’t recognise it when I’m done with you.” He said as he used the blade to draw a cut into your cheek, it wasn’t too deep but it was enough to draw a lot of blood, you screamed in pain as you felt it trickle down and into your hair. “That’s right scream for him, scream as loud as you can. Maybe he’ll hear you and come running. Might just be able to watch me take your life. Maybe I’ll carve out your heart and send it to him, poetic don’t you think.”

Tears streamed down your face and you felt yourself grow determined, you had to get back to Tom, you had to save yourself, you couldn’t let him win. You tuned him out as he spoke and felt around as you felt for the brick, you used it again, this time with a renewed force and you knocked him clean off you, you got up quicker than last time but it seemed James was just as quick as he grabbed your arm and spun you around.

Your hand went for his hand that held the knife and you used all your force to turn it towards him all as he went to stab you and you watched his eyes widen as he felt the knife plummet into his own body. You watched in shock as he fell to the ground, hands went from clutching his wound to reaching out for you, smearing blood on your legs and arms as he fell all as you stood there in shock.

Your knees collapsed after a while and you fell to the ground, fighting the urge to vomit, you must have looked a mess, blood, and dirt all over your exposed skin. You were no longer sure if the red of your dress was blood or the original colour. You’d never killed anyone before and although he deserved it and it was you or him, you still felt sick. You pulled your knees to your chest as you stared at James’s lifeless body.

You heard in the background as vehicles approached and you couldn’t find it in you to move and hide properly. You heard as gunshots were fired into the night sky and still couldn’t move. You jumped as a hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and the tears came again as you screamed, turning to shove the person who’d touched you.

“Christ, Y/N. Fuck, calm down, it’s me, it’s me.” You heard an all too familiar voice. You opened your eyes and were met with the piercing blue of Harrison’s. “It’s okay, it’s me.” He said and you cried harder out of relief. “Tom! Mate! She’s here.” Haz suddenly shouted and you heard rushed steps approach before they stopped completely.

“Fuck. Is that-“ Tom cut himself off as he took you in and his heart dropped. You were filthy, cuts and scars everywhere. He practically shoved Harrison out of the way as he dropped to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Princess, are you okay? Is that your blood?” He asked as he tried to look for any obvious and huge injuries. His voice was softer than anyone had ever heard it as he spoke to you.

“Some of it.” You croaked out and his heart broke. “Tom, he was gonna kill me, I didn’t have a choice, I didn’t mean to. He wanted me to beg for you to save me, said he’d carve my heart out and give it to you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill him.” You rambled as he took you into his arms, nodding at his men who disappeared, leaving Harrison as he watched the interaction, it was like no one else was there, Tom was fixated on you.

“Baby,” he couldn’t stop the name rolling off his tongue, “it’s okay. He’s never gonna hurt you again. No one is, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” He said as he stroked through your hair, grimacing at the blood in it. This shouldn’t have happened to you. Harrison cleared his throat, reminding his boss that they needed to move, they couldn’t stay here, the gunfire would have attracted attention. Tom nodded as Harrison moved to start the car.

“We need to go. I’m gonna take you home.” He said and your hands suddenly grasped his shirt as you clung to him for dear life.

“I don’t wanna go home Tom. I wanna stay with you.” You begged and you didn’t care how pathetic it sounded, you needed him. He stroked your hair again as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said again. “I promise I’ll stay with you, okay? We need to go though, I’m gonna take you to mine, you’ll be safe there, I’ll keep you safe.” He promised as he stood, you in his arms still as you leant all your weight on him, you grew more tired as he picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car.

“Haz, get someone to get rid of that quick.” He said, tone much more assertive than the one he’d used with you. He was referring to the body and you knew it but appreciated him not saying it. He carefully placed you into the black SUV as he told his man to drive, he didn’t let go of you the whole way to his.

Once you arrived at his he carried you into his mansion, if you weren’t so tired and still trying to process what had happened you might have been in awe of it. He easily carried you upstairs and into his bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom. Neither of you spoke as he undressed you, he was careful, every touch feather light like he was afraid he’d hurt you. He set the shower going as he got it to a good temperature.

“Okay, you should get in.” He spoke quietly and you nodded, before stepping into the shower and letting the warmth envelope you. You watched as the blood and dirt disappeared down the plug hole, washing away the evidence of what had happened tonight.

“Tom?” You found yourself calling and his head popped round the shower screen, his brows furrowed as he looked at you, he wasn’t looking anywhere except your face.

“Yeah?” He spoke softly and you cried again, his face softening.

“I’m sorry.” You said and he sighed before disappearing, you panicked that he was going to leave you until he reappeared, stepping into the shower with you, both of you naked as he held you in his arms. After a while he moved away from you, grabbing the shampoo as he lathered your hair, making sure to get all the blood and dirt out of it.

He took the sponge and cleaned you up, you winced as soap went into your little cuts, your legs and feet littered with them, he apologised every time you winced and you wondered what had happened to the big scary mob boss you were so familiar with. He was being so gentle and careful as he cleaned you up.

Once he was satisfied you were clean, he made short work of his own shower before getting out and wrapping a towel around his waist. He held out a hand as he helped you out of the shower, getting a towel and drying you off, wrapping your hair in the towel when he was done. He led you into the bedroom as he handed you one of his shirts and a pair of boxers as you put them on, watching as he dried himself off before pulling his own boxers on.

“Come here.” He patted the bed in front of him as you sat there, he took the towel off your head before grabbing a hair brush he had on his bedside table, you wondered if a woman had left it there and then cursed yourself at the jealousy that followed. He carefully brushed your hair and set to work platting it.

“Where’d you learn this?” You found yourself asking quietly as he fished around for a hair tie.

“I’ve watched you do it a million times, figured it couldn’t be that hard.” He said as he tied the end, dropping your hair and wrapping his arms around your shoulders before pulling your back against his chest. “What were you thinking?” He asked and you tried to find the annoyance, but it wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry.” You said again as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “I wanted you to see what I could do. I wanted to do this for you.” You admitted and he sighed before kissing your cheek.

“I never once doubted you but I always wanted, no needed, you safe. You’re precious to me and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He spoke. “Princess you scare me.” He admitted and you spun around to look at him, feeling the anger you held towards him earlier that day rise.

“Why? Because I’m a good asset that you don’t want to lose?” You snapped and his face twisted in annoyance.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Just remember that I specifically asked you not to go tonight and you did and you almost died.” He said.

“Yeah and I didn’t did I? I saved myself if you hadn’t realised.” You spat and his face went red.

“That’s not the point. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” He almost shouted and your anger reached a breaking point, you moved away from him and got off the bed.

“Fuck you Tom. Fuck you.” You spat as you made your way out of his bedroom, slamming the door. Seconds later you heard it open again and Tom’s footsteps followed you.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“Y/N, come back.” He demanded.

“No, I want to go home.” You shouted as you grabbed one of Tom’s many coats off the hooks and pulled it on, going to open the front door. Before you could pull it open Tom’s palm made a firm connection with the wood of the door as he held it shut.

“Please, Y/N, it’s not safe. You can’t go out on your own at this time of night.”

“I think I’ve proven myself pretty capable.” You snapped and he sighed.

“I’m trying here, will you please just stay?” It sounded like he was begging but he couldn’t have been, Tom Holland didn’t beg. Harrison had made his way downstairs now, the commotion having disturbed him.

“Are you guys okay?” He asked and you turned to look at Harrison.

“Please can you take me home?” You asked him and he nodded slightly. Tom pulled back from you and he looked almost hurt but you were too angry to care.

“Y/N/N I-“ Tom spoke and you cut him off.

“I don’t wanna hear it Tom, I’m more than just a business deal you know. I went there tonight to get information for you because I love you and I wanted you to see me as more than you do but that’s just wishful thinking.” You said and the atmosphere went silent at your confession. Harrison said he’d be in the car as you looked at Tom, you couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes.

“Until you’re ready to see me as a person Tom this isn’t gonna work.” And the roles from last week became reversed, you slammed the door before he could speak. You made your way to the car and Harrison smiled sadly as you hopped into the passenger seat.

“Y/N, he loves you, you know.” Haz spoke and you sighed.

“Then why doesn’t he just say it?”

“It’s hard for him. He doesn’t do relationships, he wants to keep you safe.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” You sighed and Haz nodded. “Jacobs dodgy by the way, he ratted me out to James.” You said and Haz looked at you in confusion as he pulled into your drive.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Make sure Tom knows I sorted two problems for him tonight, his rat and the thorn in his side.” You said, venom laced with every word.

**

You hadn’t seen Tom for a week and you were angry with him for a few days and now you just missed him. You wished he’d have followed you, come to your door and declared his undying love for you but no. No he hadn’t and you were angry about it and now you were just left with the sadness that he didn’t feel the same.

Your injuries had mostly healed, apart from the cut on your cheek and you wished you had a phone or at least remembered where Tom lived, but you debated it being a good thing you didn’t and couldn’t. You heard a knock at your door made your way towards it, pulling the door open, you were shocked when you saw him standing there.

“Tom?” You breathed out as you took him in, he looked like he’d not slept much, you hadn’t either, plagued with nightmares of James’ lifeless body. His hair was more untidy than usual, he was still sporting those black slacks that you loved so much, white shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled up, you were so in love with him that it hurt.

“We need to talk.” He said as he moved past you, you couldn’t decipher his mood. You shut the door as you waited for him to continue. “I am so angry with you right now.” He said and it was the last thing you expected him to say. “I’m angry that you thought it was appropriate to go behind my back and almost get yourself killed. I am beyond pissed off that you put yourself in so much danger.”

“Tom-“

“No, you’re going to let me finish. I’m angry that you think you’re just some business contract to me. You know the night you stormed out, I cried, I haven’t cried since I was a fucking kid. You scare me because you make me feel things for you that would put you in more danger than I already do. Fuck, I didn’t want you to go there at all because I am so fucking in love you that I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.” He was almost out of breath when he’d finished, he’d taken steps towards you and now had you pinned to the wall. His eyes were desperately flickering between your own.

“I love you.” He said again and it was much softer than moments prior when he’d practically screamed it at you. You couldn’t stop yourself as you jumped into his arms, giving him a second to react as he caught you, your lips smashing against his in a desperate and needy kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” You said as you pulled back before kissing him again. “So much.” You said repeatedly, almost like a mantra, through kisses.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He said and you nodded as he kissed you again. You were desperate and needy for each other as you felt him grow hard, your own arousal growing. He lowered you down as you stood back on your feet, panting. “I mean it, don’t ever do that again.” He said again and you smiled as you put your hands on his face.

“I promise.” You reassured and he captured your lips in his again. You pulled away after a few minutes, your arousal having grown and you wanted him, fuck you wanted him. “Tom?”

He hummed in response as he kissed along your throat.

“I want you.” You said and he softly grazed his teeth over the skin of your neck.

“Come on then baby.” He said as he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He lowered you down as he took your shirt off, you’d forgone a bra today and he groaned at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Fuck you’ve got amazing tits.” He said and you laughed slightly. He took a nipple into his mouth and you moaned slightly. His hand slipped into your shorts and he collected your arousal on his finger.

“Shit, you’re wet.” He groaned and placed kisses down your stomach, he removed his hand and took the waistband of your shorts between his teeth, pulling them down your legs as he winked up at you. “Bet you taste amazing princess. You gonna let me have a taste?” He asked and you nodded profusely.

“Please.” You almost begged and he placed kisses up you leg before you felt his breath on your clit and your breath hitched. He licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and you moaned at the contact.

“You taste fucking amazing.” He groaned against your heat and you moaned again.

“Tom, please.” You needed him and he groaned as he encased your clit in his mouth, sucking as he listened to you moan out, like music to his ears. He wasted no time in licking and sucking your clit, twisting a hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger and he watched your face from his position between your legs.

You could feel your orgasm approach as he sucked your clit more harshly and he groaned as your hips bucked up to his face. He moved away from you and your orgasm disappeared.

“Tom!” You almost shouted and he chuckled as he smiled.

“Come here, want you to ride my face.” He said and you almost moaned at the thought. You both moved so that he had his back on the couch cushions and you were hovering over his face. “Fucking beautiful view.” He said as he moved his hands to your hips and pulled you down onto his tongue. He went back to licking and sucking at your clit as you rode his tongue, hands gripping his hair.

You felt your orgasm approach again and you cried out as one of his fingers circled your entrance before slipping inside, curling towards your g spot. You continued to ride his face as he pumped his finger in and out of your tight heat, adding another finger after a while. You almost screamed as your orgasm washed over you, it felt amazing, better than your fingers ever did.

“Fuck.” You moaned as he rode you through your high, keeping your movements steady against his tongue. “That felt amazing.” You said as you moved yourself down his body, straddling his hips, he groaned as your heat made contact with his clothed hard on.

“Open up.” He said as he placed his fingers inside your mouth so you could taste yourself. “That’s it, fuck.” He said as you sucked his fingers, cleaning them, all while keeping eye contact with him. He removed his fingers as you practically ripped his shirt open, a few buttons falling to the floor. “Careful darling. That was expensive.” He teased as your hands traced his toned body.

You moved down and made quick work of his slacks, shoes, and socks. He smiled up at you as you lowered yourself onto his hardened length, both sighing in pleasure. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, you placed your hands on his chest as you moved on him, moaning his name as you did. You picked up your pace as you fucked him, you’d waited so long for this moment.

“Fuck Tom, you feel so good.” You moaned out, which only turned Tom on more as he gripped your hips and flipped you both over. It didn’t quite go to plan as you both ended up on the floor but it didn’t matter you were both so wrapped up in each other that neither commented, he just continued to fuck into you on the floor as you both moaned.

He fucked you like his life depended on it and he went even harder when he found the right angle for your g spot which left you practically screaming for him. You felt your orgasm approach and you tightened around him.

“Shit, if you keep that up I’m gonna come.” He gasped as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in a figure eight as your orgasm approached faster, you screamed his name as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you through it, thrusts growing sloppy as he pulled out of you, streams of his come lining your bare stomach as you came down from your high. “Fuck.” Tom panted and you giggled.

“I’ll be back.” He said as he got to his feet and made his way into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a cloth to clean you up. “Shit you look good covered in my come.” He spoke and you laughed.

**

You found yourself wrapped up in your bedsheets after another round, much slower and passionate than the previous. You had your head on his chest as he ran a hand through your hair.

“I love you.” He said and you smiled against the bare skin of his chest.

“I love you too so much.” You said.

“Be mine?” He asked.

“Of course, so long as this doesn’t change my job.” You smiled and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“It changes everything, it was hard enough knowing you flirted with men and they flirted back before you were my girlfriend, don’t think I’d handle it well now.” He laughed and you joined. “You’ll always be safe with me.” He said. “I know what almost happened last week but I’d never let anything like that happen again but you have to promise me you won’t go behind my back like that again.” He said and it almost sounded like he was begging.

“I promise.” You said.

“This seems to be healing well.” He said as he angled your face up to look at him, running his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah.” You muttered as you placed your head back onto his chest.

“Jacob won’t be a problem by the way. I took care of it.” He said.

“What did you do?”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s not a concern.” He said as he yawned. You had a feeling Jacob may have spent hours being tortured before ultimately killed but Tom would never tell you what he did, never wanting to frighten you.

You smiled in content as you heard his soft snores leaving his lips, finding comfort in his embrace, he’d always keep you safe and you knew it and you’d never go behind his back again, although you couldn’t help but think that if you hadn’t done what you did you wouldn’t be here now. You still had a lot to talk about but that could wait until a much needed sleep, in this moment you were just happy to be in his arms.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Ready for another one-shot for the western au (which needs a name)?

Warning: vampire hunting, vampire death, Lucian is aware that Peter likes him (and he is aware that he likes the human too) 

On with the fic!

--

“You’re terrible at lining up a shot.” Lucian commented quietly as he watched Peter with the crossbow. So much more silent than that shotgun of his, not that Lucian could talk, he’s used a few in his time. They’re not great weapons when out in the open like this, where other vampires could be hiding away in the alcoves and caves, able to hear such a loud device.

“Shut up.” Peter mumbled.

“Here, let me.” Lucian sighed and gently placed his hands over Peter’s own, adjusting his hold on the crossbow and the level he had it at. He heard an increased heartbeat and a quick glance at Peter told him that the human was a little overwhelmed with the closeness that Lucian was showing.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Peter seemed to find him attractive, a few drunken conversations with the man had revealed that. And a head injury as well, that confession was quickly followed by an attempt to undo Lucian’s shirt before Peter passed out.

But he was also aware that Peter might be developing some sort of feelings for him, which was flattering, but dangerous. Lucian wasn’t exactly one that got into relationships easily, for... obvious reasons. Mostly emotional.

Still, Lucian couldn’t deny that he might be interested in the strange hunter, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever follow through on this. It might be better for Peter’s sake that they didn’t do anything about this.

But then again, Peter was more likely to die from bad alcohol or his own shitty attempts at hunting than by anything involving Lucian.

“There.” Lucian said quietly by Peter’s ear. “That’s more like it, you need to be relaxed. If you’re too tense, you’ll mess up the shot.”

Peter let out a shaky breath, ah, probably not wise to be this close.

He gently pulled himself away and Peter let out another breath before putting his finger on the trigger and-

THUNK! 

A terrible, dying screech.

Thump.

“Did I get him?”

Lucian looked down at where the vampire had been standing, seeing the body start to dissolve into dust. That was an excellent shot, right to the heart. “Got him in one.” Lucian told the human, who was now grinning with pride. 

“Fuck yes!” Peter shouted, before slapping a hand over his mouth, looking around.

The lycan didn’t hear anything other than the sounds of the cool night. They weren’t heard. “I think we’re good.” He said.

“Nice.” Peter sat up, dusting himself off. How he could go about running around in that ridiculous outfit at night, Lucian didn’t know, but he appreciated what he was looking at.

Peter wasn’t bad looking for a human, in fact, he was rather attractive in his own right. Tall, wirey, yet still built solid. He was shockingly fast for someone who didn’t seem like he ever bothered with physical labor or even wanting to run around a little. He had a lovely face and hair he spent too much time taking care of, and wore makeup around his eyes for some reason.

He also painted his nails, everyone in town just accepted that. Lucian suspected that people just thought that Peter’s odd sense of fashion and appearance was some European thing, since he and Lucian were the only ones that came from their recently.

Still, Lucian couldn’t help looking at that little bit of skin that Peter left exposed, it was a tease, but there was also a faint scar just above his hip. 

“You were bitten.” Lucian commented, how had he never noticed it before?

This seemed to catch Peter’s attention and he looked confused before realizing what Lucian was looking at. He slapped a hand over the bite. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not a normal animal bite.” Lucian pointed out.

“No. No, it isn’t.” Peter said, sounding defensive, and worried. “It’s nothin’, just... just somethin’ from a while back, but it’s all good now.”

“Peter...” Lucian started, but the human stood up, dusting off the back of his pants. 

“I gotta head back, got an early shift at the saloon. Thanks for the lessons, let’s do it again sometime.”

“Right, yes. Maybe tomorrow night?” Lucian didn’t want to drop this topic, but he had a feeling that Peter was not ready for this conversation, so he let it go. For now.

“Sounds great, yeah, t-talk to you later.” Peter said before attempting to get back down to ground level.

Lucian frowned, watching as the human walked back in the direction of the town. He had been curious for a while now about Peter’s scent, something wasn’t quite right about it, but it was subtle enough to be missed by the other scents around this place and him.

But that bite... that wasn’t animal nor was it human.

It was vampire.

--

*jazz hands* Peter was bitten! A few times! When this happened, I don’t know yet, but it was not one of his proudest moments. 

[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 5

prompt: I accidentally hit you with my car

extras: “You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?”

cw: language?

word count: 1.6k

--

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Aelin is aware she’s yelling.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” The guy is definitely yelling back so at least there’s that. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You just hit me with your car!”

Okay, so the attractive man yelling in the middle of the road might have a point.

“That was an accident,” she yells right back as she clambers out of her car. She rests her hand on the top of the bonnet, satisfied when there doesn’t appear to be any damage. That scratch across her front bumper was there way before today.

The man’s hands waver around his sides as he gapes at her. “And yet you still haven’t apologised.”

He sounds incredulous, which to be fair, is probably understandable.

“Oh yeah,” she says distractedly, running her eyes along the rest of her car just in case. “Sorry about that.”

The man barks out a surprisingly sexy, dark burst of laughter and it’s what finally drags her eyes over to him.

He’s tall, standing way above her as he watches her with a slightly shocked expression on his face. His hair is a shade of silver she’s never seen before, it’s not grey, definitely silver and she’s intrigued. He’s also built as fuck, his inked biceps bulging in his t-shirt as he brushes off his jeans. Jeans that cling to deliciously muscular legs. Aelin could certainly have run over someone less interesting.

He’s shaking his head as she reaches him, having sauntered over with a hand on her hip, and she’s delighted to find she has to tip her head fully back to look up at him. His eyes are very green this close up.

“You’re sorry?” he says, his tone full of complete bewilderment.

“I’m getting less sorry by the second,” she says with a shrug.

She doesn’t expect that to be what does it, but the bewilderment drops and a reluctant smile begins to crawl onto his pink lips. Aelin can work with this.

He shakes his head, but the smile stays. “You’d better watch it,” he says and his tone has changed too. The whisper of a threat has her pulse beginning to speed up.

Aelin puts her hand on her hip. “Or what?”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and Aelin is very aware of the motion even though this whole thing is fucking ludicrous. “You’re a bit of a firecracker then, hm?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Aelin is insane, she decides and it seems this guy is over it. The smile she’d been enjoying so far is gone, wiped clean and replaced with an angry scowl. He’s still hot.

“No,” he states simply, and oof. “What I’d like is for you to not have run me over with your car.”

Aelin doesn’t speak for a few seconds as she reassesses her strategy. Somehow she really thought she’d turn this whole thing around.

“Think it’s a bit too late for that,” is what she settles on.

He looks to the sky, the motion highlighting the length of his throat and the thick muscles of his shoulders. It’s a pity really that this started how it did, she can think of a whole list of things she’d do to this man if he gave her the time of day.

Then he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like fucking childish and that train of thought has crashed and burned.

She raises an eyebrow because she knows what this expression normally does to men. He doesn’t back down, which is kind of getting the train back on the tracks. But no.

Bastard, she says with a flick of her brows.

He narrows his eyes. Brat.

Neither of them speak, and Aelin pours her efforts into the stand off instead of getting lost in the deep, forest green of his eyes. She can’t ignore the thrill running through her at the challenge this guy presents, her blood heats and a smile creeps up of its own accord.

Then he shakes his head and turns to leave.

“Do you not want my details to press charges? I can give you my number,” she calls as he begins to walk away.

He turns and hits her with a look of pure bewilderment that has her flipping the bird and storming back to her car.

Whatever. Next time she hits someone with her car she won’t be so polite.

She hasn’t been to this bar before, it’s on the other side of town to where they usually go out, but it’s closer to Elide’s new office so she suspects they’ll become regulars soon enough. Her friend’s text had come through only an hour before but it takes Aelin time to perfect her look. She’s almost there when another text comes through from Lysandra.

Are you coming or what?

Almost there, she types back as she thanks her Uber driver.

Lysandra’s reply pings almost immediately. Well hurry up there’s fit lads here and they’ve actually got good chat one of them legit got hit by a car today lol.

If Aelin wasn’t Aelin she’d have probably stumbled. Instead she lets out an almost silent groan and debates immediately ordering another Uber home. How many people do you think get hit by cars everyday? She’s hoping the number is high. In the least bad way possible.

She’s not sure what she did to deserve this—apart from hitting that guy with her car—but she’s a grown up she can face it and she pushes her way into the bar. She spots Elide and Lysandra easily and yep, that’s some silver hair and broad shoulders squashed against a dark haired guy and another blond.

This could be fun.

“Excuse me,” she says as she slides into the booth next to him. It’s a tight squeeze and his hand comes to her waist to settle her, the warmth of his fingers sinking into her bare skin. “Hi, great to meet you guys. I’m Aelin,” she says with a grin, daring this guy to kick off.

His gaze flashes to hers and his fingers tighten at her waist as his brow raises. “You,” is all he says.

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?” The corner of his lips quirk and she’s totally winning him over. She nods at his friends before turning to Elide and Lysandra. “Sorry I’m late, was really busy hitting this guy with my car.”

Lysandra and Elide blink as her announcement drops until his blond friend lets out a cackle.

“That was you?” he asks.

“The one and only,” she grins, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Aelin.”

“Fenrys.” He shakes her hand, a mischievous smile dawning on his handsome face and she likes him already. “I don’t know how or why it happened but thank you. I don’t think you understand how much it has made my life that you hit Rowan with your car.”

She laughs and feels the hot guy’s—Rowan’s—fingers tighten again at her waist. She glances at him and he realises his hand is still there at the same time she does and he pulls it back, resting it on his thigh. Right next to hers. She can get that hand to her thigh by the end of the night.

Aelin shrugs. “I think when you wander around in the middle of the road there’s always a chance. Look.” She turns to Rowan ignoring the soft laughter from the group.

“I wasn’t wandering around,” he says, his tone softer than she’s heard it so far. She likes the way his voice sounds when he’s trying not to laugh too. “There was a bird in the road I was trying to save. I’d much rather you hit me than the bird.”

Certain parts of her pulse at his revelation. Animal activist does it for her apparently.

“Okay,” she says, flicking her eyes across his truly handsome face. His green eyes are intense and they’re flicking across her face too. “I really am sorry I hit you with my car.” Another snort from Lysandra and Rowan’s dark-haired friend. “I would love it if we could move past this, it seems my friends are keen on you and your friends chilling with us tonight. Let me buy you a drink, make it up to you?”

She fixes him with a genuine smile, none of the flirty front she’s put up so far. Her offer is genuine.

The corner of his lips curl, like he wants to smile and Aelin sees it, her own grin breaking into something bright. He breaks, a low laugh tumbling over his lips as he shakes his head and Aelin giggles. She likes that sound.

He looks softer when he smiles too, the harsh line of his brow transforming into the crinkles by his eyes. “Okay,” he says and his accent curves around the word. “You can buy me a drink to apologise.”

“That I can do,” she says with a pat to his thigh. She can feel the thick muscle hidden beneath the denim and she may or may not run her hand down the length of his thigh as she slides out of the booth.

“Aelin,” he says, catching her hand in his as she turns away. He stands too, still delightfully taller than her. “I’ll get you a drink too.”

“What for?” she laughs. “You didn’t hit me with your car.”

He smiles, a confident curl of his lips, and squeezes her hand before he leads the way to the bar. “I’m hoping it will get me your number.”

[blogevaawrites]

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst 

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris´s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect. 

Part 1

He was getting closer to my neck, his lips kissing my neck from behind and his cold hands went to hold my hips strongly. I missed him so much.

I turned around to embrace his neck and finally get to kiss those lips I been craving so much for. His breath stank of alcohol, shitty beer, and tequila shots but that didn't matter because it was just the result of a good night of friends, football and fun.

“What did Ashley tell you?” it wasn’t a complete innocent question, I just wanted to know about that because she was talking to him without almost any distance between them. That wasn’t usually normal. But to be fair, when he gets drunk, he tends to be more affectionate.

“She wanted to stay in tonight. I guess she didn’t know you were coming” he said calmly as he kept working on my neck and his hands holding my butt strongly.

“And what did you tell her?” I kept asking, caressing his arms and back. 

“I said yes, but then she changed her mind” he answered quickly “why she didn’t want to stay?” 

I asked again “I don’t know” he wishpered

“And that was everything  what she said?” I was about to caress his hair but he took my hands between us, stopping all his movements.

“What do you want to know, doll?” he was tired of my questions but he kept calm.

“Nothing, it´s just...she was weirdly close to you” that wasn’t all I was thinking about.

“Are you jealous? That´s why you are being so annoying?” he smiled, and he started to kiss me again. 

“No! It´s not that! Stop! I’m just asking because you both looked too much friendly for being just friends” he started to look mad then. 

We have had this conversation before, not about Ashley but his attitude around girls. He was very flirty and sometimes it seems that I came just in time to keep him out of trouble.

“What? Honey, come on! She just wanted to know if she could stay in tonight too” As soon as he said that he shut up. 

“Was she here last night?” I asked him losing my shit. 

“Yes.. she... just called me, we went to get a few drinks and she couldn’t drive back to his house, so she stayed in” that sounded so unlike him. He doesn’t make friends quickly because he doesn’t trust people easily.

“You went out with her, a girl you just met, and you took her to your house because she got drunk” I tried to make him see that from my point of view.

“Yes, what´s wrong with that?” he asked, normally it wouldn’t be a problem, that was what I would do too, but he doesn’t do that with anyone but his friends, he doesn’t like to have people knowing where he lives.

“Where did you both meet?” I kept asking, because anyone of his friends did know her, he didn’t answer “You bring to this house someone you don’t even know well.” I said.

"So, what's? It's not a big deal" he hadn’t lied to me once, but something inside was yelling at me not to believe him.

He was about to move closer to me, but I was angry, and he knew it. He stopped his attempt and let me leave the room.

Quickly I got a shower and put on my pajama. It was quite cold in Boston but the fireplace kept the room warm so I could just put my black silk chamise on and headed to bed.

I could hear him moving around the house, I guess he started to clean out the mess that he and his friends made earlier. I knew he was just avoiding me.

About an hour later, I heard  his footsteps getting closer to his bedroom´s door, he stopped for a while in the doorframe, I could feel his glance at me, he stepped in the room and start to undress himself. He sat on his side of the bed and he stood there quiet, for a few minutes. He got under the mattress lightly touching my calf. God, I missed him so much.

“Come on, hon! I don´t want to be like this, we haven´t seen each other in three weeks” he said pecking me around my upper back, getting his whole body closer to mine “and I missed you” he whispered in my ear “every part of me have missed you very, very much” he kept whispering and rubbing his male member against my butt.

I didn´t stop him, I let myself go to his will, he turned me over my back, facing him, a drunk smirk appeared on his lips. He kept kissing my collarbones, my breast while his hands were flying to my thighs, holding them forcefully. He stopped realizing my lack of movement, then he lifted his body to free mine and asked, “Do you want this?” he looked confused. I have missed him so much; I have missed being touched by him.

“Yes” I answered him, bringing my arms to the back of his neck and push him closer to me. He started to move again over me. I was mad but needed for him.

His hands started to roll down my panties while his mouth assaulted mine. He lifted his hips to let go my panties off of me and positioned himself again between my legs.

His lips were sucking my right nipple and his left hand massage rudely my left boob.

When he was drunk sex was just hotter, shameless, and quite nasty. He was normally a little bit hotly rude during sex, but when alcohol took over his body, it was mind-blowing.

Thankfully, he got into bed just in his underwear so it was easy to slide my hand to get rid of his boxers.

He stopped his movements and brought both of my hands up, holding them just with one and the other one came down to rub my clit, he knew my body so well that it took less than two minutes to have me shaking and singing his name, in his bed, in his house. 

No matter what, he always could make me believe that we were the only humans alive, he could take me to moon and back just holding me in his arms.

He chucked and took his fingers in his mouth, sucking my wetness. He kissed me, letting me taste myself of his fingers, he let go my arms, rolling over and taking me with him, over him.  

My breast was fully exposed, all for him. I straddled him, holding myself up by arms extended against the headboard. His hands were cupping my ass up while mine was taking his hard dick to push it inside of me.

I just could moan for the relieve the tension that my body was feeling. I started to move slowly, riding him while my walls were stretching to take him completely. His hands were on my hips, his fingers marking my skin while he waited for me to be totally warmed up. When he could feel himself completely inside, his hands pushed my hips up and down harder, controlling the pace, knowing what I need to cum.

His eyes were shut trying not to cum before me. I lost the stability falling against his chest, his lips went to suck my neck and his arms up to hold me from my upper back, when I couldn´t move his hips collapse against mine until I couldn´t take it anymore. My inner walls clenched around him trying to push his dick out of me, and I came hard.

He holds tightly and rolled over again, leaving me under him. He took my still shaking legs over his shoulders and pressed his dick in me hard to get his own relief. He fucked me deliciously slow until he come inside of me.

“I’m glad you could make it here” he said with his now soft cock still inside me, and his hands caressing my tights. “Me too” it was all I could say, I was very happy to finally could see him, but the early event was stuck in my head.

He rolled to his side of the bed and I ran to the bathroom. Instead of clean myself up with a cloth I got another shower. When I was back to bed, he was already sleeping peacefully.

I knew something was wrong, for some reason I just couldn´t believe him so I took his pants from the floor lookingfor his phone in the pockets, I wasn´t proud of what I was about to do but the voice inside my head didn´t let me sleep. Instead of his phone I found a black lace tong and obviously it was not mine.

It was too late to go to a hotel, and even if it wasn’t I didn´t knew one nearby and I was too tired and a little bit drunk to drive back to New York.

I left the room and went to the living room.

In the morning I still was in the couch watching another episode of Crime Files. I didn’t hear him entering the living room until he spoke.

“What are you doing? Searching for new ways to get away with my murder?” He joked but for a few seconds I thought he knew about my discovery in his pants. I looked at him completely blank. 

“Have you cheated on me? I asked abruptly 

“What? No! What are you talking about?” he looked confused “Is this about Ashley? You don´t believe me!” suddenly he was mad at me. 

“I am just asking. Just answer the question. Have you cheated on me?” my voice was calm. Coversely, his voice was louder. 

“Are you fucking serious? Have I ever done anything like that to you before?” he looked so heartbroken that for a second I wanted to hold him.

“You are not telling all about Ashley, so I don’t know” his folded arms fell to each side of his body. Then his expression changed, he looked sad “No, I have not cheated on you.” he said that and leave the room.

I truly thought I hurt him. But he had a tong in his pocket.

I followed him back to the room and threw the evidence at him.

“So, you collect panties now?” I said “New Hobby? Because it is a fucking weird one” I got bitter. He looked upset but he kept quiet.

“Did something happed the night she stayed here?” I was afraid to hear the answer, but I needed to know it.

“No” He responded quickly. 

“Why do you have her underwear?” I felt I was begging him for information, and I didn’t like to have to do this. 

“She gave it to me” he answered unconsciously, he wasn’t going to say anything else until he had to do it. 

“Have you fuck her?” 

“When?” probably he still was drunk when he said that because he muttered a curse word. 

“So that’s where you know her from, right? She is one of your “friends. I thought you haven’t talk to them since we were together” in the beginning of our relationship I knew he had this kind of agreements. It wasn’t until we were officially a couple that he stopped seeing them, at least that’s what he told me.  

[undercoveravenger]

Closing Cases

Written for my 2021 Halloween event

Pairing: EJ Caswell x Male!Detective!Reader

Prompt: EJ with a Nancy Drew/Scooby gang reader investigating something haunting the school and EJ steps up to help. With “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars” and “Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?”

A/N: This is prompt # 2 for my Halloween event! The next prompt will be posted Thursday, October 7th.

-------

East High was being faced by an unexplainable problem. Each night, lockers were being broken into and various class and club rooms had been found vandalized. The faculty had examined the footage from all of the security cameras near the areas that had been attacked, but weren’t able to see anyone in the videos; only that the halls looked normal in one frame, and had been trashed in the next.

As someone who had spent his entire childhood looking up to all of the great detectives, you took it upon yourself to get to the bottom of the situation. You had told Miss Jen, the theater teacher, that you’d be missing rehearsals one afternoon in order to conduct your investigation, but she had been the only person you told.

You supposed that was why it came as such a shock to find EJ Caswell, a popular senior and star of the water polo team and drama department, leaning against the locker beside yours after school.

You disregarded his presence, moving to open your locker and tuck away your textbooks.

“So I hear you’re not going to be at rehearsals today,” EJ said after a moment, turning to face you. “Care to share why?”

“I’ve got more important things to do,” you said easily. You knew it was kind of a weak response, but it was the first thing that’d come to mind.

He rolled his eyes, lips quirking up into a grin. “Yeah, we both do, I guess.”

That gave you pause. You turned to look at him incredulously, and you had to force yourself to ignore the way the amused glint in his pretty blue eyes threatened to make you smile. “Excuse me?”

“You’re investigating the break-ins, right?” EJ asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you.

“I’m not convinced that they have been break-ins, but yes,” you said, grabbing a different backpack entirely out of your locker and leaving the one with your school supplies in it before shutting the door. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me?” You turned away at that, making your way down the quickly emptying halls.

EJ scrambled to keep pace with you, weaving around the remaining students and faculty to stay at your side. “I want to help! I’ll be the first to say I don’t really have experience with investigations, but I want to help stop what’s going on.”

You let out a sigh, turning abruptly to face EJ. “Fine. You can help,” you held up a hand to interrupt him when he made to let out a victorious whoop, “But if you get in the way of my investigation, I will tell you to leave and you will listen. Do we have a deal?”

The brunet nodded vigorously, falling back into step beside you as you resumed your previous path, “Deal. So,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Where do we start?”

“Here,” you said as you came to a stop outside of a janitor’s closet on the second floor.

EJ’s brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “Our investigation starts at the janitor’s closet?”

You nodded, twisting the door open and entering the small room. You sat down, nestling your way between a set of shelves and several empty garbage cans. “Well, this is where we’ll be waiting until the time is right.”

“And when is that?” he asked as he crept into the closet with you, wincing as the door slammed closed behind him.

You snickered, pulling out your phone to set an alarm. “Well, the thief only strikes at night, right? They’ll probably emerge at around nine o’clock, which means we have,” you glanced back at your phone, “About five hours to kill.”

“Five hours?” EJ asked incredulously, blue eyes wide as he looked at you. “What the hell are we going to do for five hours?!”

“Well, I was going to play games on my phone since I wasn’t planning on having company until a few minutes ago,” you said, glancing pointedly down at the device. “You’re still more than welcome to leave, if you don’t want to wait?”

EJ shook his head stubbornly, shifting to sit with his back against the opposite wall from you. “No, but my phone definitely isn’t going to hold up for that long.” He paused, thinking, “Maybe we could play twenty questions while we wait?”

You shrugged, figuring that humoring a cute boy wouldn’t kill you. “Alright, sure. But since it was your idea, you have to go first.”

He smiled widely, clearly delighted that you’d agreed. “Okay!” He hesitated for a moment while he thought, but a question seemed to strike him pretty quickly. “So, do you make it a point to hang out in sketchy janitor’s closets often?”

You barely managed to bite back a snicker, but the upward tilt of EJ’s lips made you suspect that he knew about your poorly concealed amusement. “I do when my cases require it,” you said by means of explanation, but you found yourself elaborating further at the confused-puppy expression on his face. “Today’s a Tuesday, which means that the cleaning staff isn’t in tonight, so no one will be checking this closet for stragglers like they would the library or a classroom. Waiting in here means that I’ll be able to remain in the building after the doors are locked, which means that I’ll be able to find out if anyone else comes into the building after it’s locked down for the night.”

“Wow,” EJ said, eyes wide as he processed everything you’d just said. “You put a lot more planning into this than I would’ve thought?”

“What, you thought I’d just wing it?” you teased. You had to admit, you were enjoying his company far more than you had anticipated. “I like to think that I take my job pretty seriously.”

He gestured wildly with his hands, like he was trying to wave away his previous words. “No, no, no; that’s not what I meant- I meant that-” He cut himself off as he noticed you beginning to laugh, “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He faked offense, but the appearance of his dimples gave away his amusement. “Fine, you got me.” His grin widened as he looked at you, “Alright, Mr. Holmes, what’s your leading theory?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, “Currently? Vengeful spirits.”

EJ let out a surprised laugh. It was deep, uncontrollable and infectious, and you were helpless to hide the grin it brought to your face, though it faded after a moment, “You’re serious?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what else to think,” you started softly, fingers twisting nervously in your lap as you were forced to admit that, for once, you really weren’t sure about what the outcome of your case would be. “Any normal person would have been caught on camera, and the only people in this city that have the ability to manipulate the footage to make it look like no one was there either wouldn’t care enough to do it or they’ve got an alibi.”

EJ’s brows furrowed, “And none of them could have lied about the alibis?”

“Mr. Mazzara could’ve, I suppose,” you mused, “But I double-checked it with Miss Jenn and it sounds legit.”

“So ghosts then, huh?” he prompted, scooting a little closer to you until his knees brushed lightly against yours. “Seems like a little bit of a leap in logic.”

You shrugged helplessly, a tired grin forming on your lips, “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars. Ghosts weren’t the least probable option, if I’m being honest.”

“How would you even get rid of a ghost-” He stopped as the rest of your statement caught up to him, “Wait, you’ve had fifty candy bars?!”

“Just the little ones.” You said, waving off his concern and checking the time on your phone. “Depends on the type of spirit, but I’ve talked to some sophomores who practice witchcraft and they say that sage and pure intention to banish it should take care of whatever we’re seeing, as long as it’s a normal ghost or spirit. I just want to eliminate any other options before I take action.”

“Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?” EJ demanded, taking your phone from you and setting it aside so he could get you to focus on him, “You’ve gotta take better care of yourself,” he said quietly, normally bright eyes turned stormy with concern, “You’ve got a lot of people that care about you-”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Like who?” At his stunned silence, you pressed on, “Everyone at this school thinks I’m a weirdo. You don’t think I’ve heard people call me Scooby-Doo or Nancy Drew or Sherlock?” You shook your head, pushing yourself to your feet as your frustration mounted, “This was a mistake. I’m leaving; I’ll solve this case on my own.”

“Wait,” EJ exclaimed, shooting up to his feet and grabbing your wrist to stop you from going. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m wrong?” you asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at EJ. “About what part?”

He nodded seriously, eyes locked with yours, “About no one caring about you and about everyone thinking you’re weird.” He took a deep breath, and, for the first time since he’d joined your investigation, you watched his confident facade falter. “I care about you,” he started softly, like he was afraid to finally say it. “And I really like that you’re so passionate about solving mysteries.”

Your brows furrowed as you turned to look back at him, “You… like that?”

“I like you,” he said, so quiet that he was barely audible, but when you didn’t pull away he continued, volume picking up as he did so, “I really like you and I can’t believe I get to help you do something I love, and that probably sounds pretty dumb since we don’t really know each other that well, but I would really like to get to know you better and maybe even take you out to dinner sometime if that’s okay with you?”

It took you a long moment to find your voice again. “Okay,” you found yourself saying as you tugged your wrist from his grip to link your fingers with his instead. “Okay,” A wide smile spread across EJ’s face and you could feel an answering one as it tugged at your lips, “When we close this case, I’ll let you take me on a date.”

“Really?” he asked, like he almost expected you to tell him it was some cruel joke. He let out a breathless laugh when you nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?” he asked joyfully, tugging you towards the door by your joined hands. “We’ve got a case to solve!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you were led out into the long-abandoned halls of East High, glad to have finally found someone who matched you. After all, all the greats came in pairs; Daphne had Fred, Sherlock had Watson, and now you had EJ.

[noforkingclue]

You Should’ve Ran (Zemo x reader)

Summary: There was a lot of this you should’ve done but now it was too late.

Warnings: Dark, non con, choking, poorly written smut, Zemo being an absolute bastard

Author’s Note: So this is probably one of the darkest things I’ve written. I also haven’t written anything smutty in ages so I don’t know how good it’s going to be. Please take note of the above warnings!

You should’ve ran when you had the chance. You should’ve packed a bag and ditched your home as soon as he let you go, but you didn’t. You were foolish, arrogant, you thought that you could beat him at his own game and now you were paying the price.

You should’ve ran.

But you stayed.

And now you were paying the price

You hated to admit it but you had gotten used to the staring, to the constant feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. The soft brushes in the crowd that you somehow, instinctively, knew were from him. The footsteps following you home at night even though you could protect yourself. In the beginning it felt like he was some sick, twisted protector. You were torn between craving his attention and fleeing, although you knew that running away from him would just start your cat and mouse game again. There was no escaping once he had you in his sights.

The one thing that still unnerved you was when you could tell that he had been in your flat. That was your one safe space again the world and for him to be in it without your permission felt like he was violating an unwritten rule. It wasn’t as though he had done anything dreadful (at least in the beginning) but it felt odd. When you walked in after a long day’s work and smelt his cologne or to wake up to a basket of your favourite pastries. It felt oddly intimate and you hated it.

However, things took a turn for the worse in the summer and when you finally decided to put an end to your single life. The date had gone well, very well, and you were looking forward to meeting him again. You had been so elated that you didn’t register that someone was in your flat until it was too late. You were slammed against your front door, Zemo’s arm across you neck. He was breathing heavily and his eyes half lidded. The warning was clear and he pressed harshly against you before letting you go. You collapsed at his feet gasping for air. When you tried to stand he put a hand on top of your head and pushed you down saying,

“Pets should remain at my feet and on their knees.”

The threat was clear but you were stupid enough to ignore it. You continued seeing your date until the notes arriving. The threats, warning you to stop seeing your boyfriend unless you never wanted to see him again, telling you (in explicit detail) exactly what he wanted to do to you. The handwritten notes made you blush as you read the graphic details and you swiftly crumpled them up and threw them away. This did nothing to stop him and it actually increased the frequency of the notes. But the one that made your blood turn to ice was one of the shortest. You stood rooted to the stop as you took in the neat script.

 You have one week to come to me, pet.

 It terrified you. The violent and lustful words written in such neat handwriting was an unsettling juxtaposition. You knew you should break up with your boyfriend for his own safety but much like everything else you had acted it was too late. You had turned on the news one morning and you dropped your coffee mug in shock. As you saw your boyfriend’s face on the screen and the news report calming stating details of the unsolved murder, you knew you had to leave.

It was late when you finally re-entered your flat after speaking with the police. It had taken longer than expected but at least now you were crossed off their list of suspects. You poured yourself a glass of water and took a large sip before putting it down and rushing to your bedroom. You grabbed your suitcase and started shoving clothes into it. You didn’t care what you took just as long as you left as soon as possible. You ran back into the living and paused. You stared wide eyed and slowly looked over your shoulder. A piece of paper was neatly tucked under the glass. With shaking hands you unfolded the notes and collapsed onto the sofa when you read it.

 I warned you.

 You finished the water in one gulp, grabbed your bag and left your flat and life behind. You ran out of your flat not caring who saw you. You needed to get as far away as possible but you knew it was too late. Zemo had you in his grasp and he was not going to let you go that easily. You shuddered as you felt his piercing gaze on you, even though you couldn’t see him, and you ducked into an alley in the hopes of losing him in the backstreets. You knew you had fucked up when the sounds of the city became muffled and all you could hear was your own laboured breathing and the soft click of slowly approaching footsteps. You took a sharp left and let out a cry of frustration when you ran into a dead end. You closed your eyes and felt the tears run down your face as you heard Zemo stop at the entrance to the passageway.

“Commendable effort,” he said walking towards you, “But really pointless.”

“Please,” you said quietly, “Please just let me go.”

“I can’t do that,” Zemo pressed his body up against your back, “I’ve given up so much for you already.”

Zemo put one hand on your shoulder and pushed you towards the wall. You let out a cry as you were pushed roughly against it and Zemo caged you in with his body. A fresh set of tears fell down your face as you felt his arousal against you. You shook your head as Zemo pressed a trail of kisses down your neck.

“This wasn’t how I intended things to go,” he said against your shoulder, “I wanted to take you away from this place, to take you in my bed. To shower you in the love and affection that had been denied all your life. You would want for nothing and all I require is one thing.”

You didn’t answer and one of Zemo’s hands snaked up and clasped itself around your throat. He squeezed harshly and you gasped in shock.

“For you to do everything I say,” he hissed, “To give me everything.”

Zemo’s other hand ghosted along the waistband of your jeans. You tensed before trying to shake him off. Even though you should’ve had super strength you found yourself weakened and you heard Zemo chuckle darkly.

“Is something the matter?” he asked mockingly, “You should be stronger than I am.”

The sickening realisation of what he did settled in the pit of your stomach.

“You drugged me.” You said weakly

“An unfortunate necessary,” he said, “But for me to take what I want I had to do it. If you had just come with me willingly, like I asked you to,” he squeezed your neck again and you whimpered, “It wouldn’t have been like this. I would’ve been gentle. I would’ve given you everything but instead you forced me to do this.”

His hand delved into your jeans and his fingers rubbed harshly against you. You cried out at the sudden sensation and Zemo cooed in mock sympathy.

“See how much easier things would be if you just submitted, mein Liebling,” he said, knowing how much you hated that nickname, “You would’ve been in a soft, warm, bed and not pushed up against this wall and being taken like a whore.”

“Please,” you sobbed, “Stop.”

Once against Zemo tightened his grip around your neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“If I were you,” he said quietly, “I would be quiet. Pets don’t talk back to their masters.”

Much to your horror Zemo didn’t ease his grip. His fingers continued to work roughly against you and when they circled against your entrance you tried to squirm away. However, there was nowhere to go. When you moved back you brushed against Zemo and you shuddered when you heard his soft moans.

“Already aching for me,” he said, “I can feel how wet you’re getting for me.”

“Stop.” You said weakly

“Never,” he bit your earlobe, “You need to learn your place in this world. Your place which is in my bed, under me, by my side.”

Each word was punctuated by his fingers slowly swirling around you. You shook your head and he growled before shoving a finger inside you.

“So tight,” he hissed, “So ready for me. You want me don’t you.”

“No.”

“Then why are you so wet.”

Any other time you would’ve gone on about biology but at this current moment, with his hand around your neck, you couldn’t get the words out. You didn’t need to see him to know that he was giving you the same mocking smile that haunted your nightmares.

“You want me,” he said as he slowly moved his finger in and out, “You need me. You crave this. What you need is for someone to take you in hand. To show you proper discipline and to raise you up to your fullest potential. Is what I’m asking for in return really that much? Your freedom for the world?”

Zemo loosened his grip and you gasped for air. His hand moved to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes.

“I don’t want the world,” you said, “I just want to live my life in peace.”

“I can give you peace,” Zemo said resting his forehead against yours, “I can give you everything.”

His fingers stilled and you whimpered at the loss of movement. He smirked at your reaction and briefly swiped his thumb over your clit. You jumped in his arms and let out a soft moan. In a flash Zemo had spun you around and pushed your back against the wall. His fingers started moving again and you gasped in pleasure.

“Just give in,” he said, “Just give in to me. I know you want to, my pet.”

“N… no.”

“Yes,” he hissed, “You do. There’s no point in fighting what we both know you want. What you need.”

“I don’t need you!”

“Yes you do,” he growled, “You just need to give into your desires and I will teach you to obey. Pets like you need discipline.”

“I don’t need-“

“I know what is best for you,” he continued, “I know what you need.”

Zemo roughly added another finger and our hands flew to his shoulders. You bit your lip to try and prevent yourself from moaning. Zemo removed his hand from your neck and pulled your lip free. He looked at you lips for a moment before leaning forward and capturing them in a rough and bruising kiss.

You tried to struggle free but Zemo firmly tangled a hand in your hair and kept you close against him. You refuse to open your mouth for him and Zemo growled against your lips. In response to your refusal to submit he brushed his thumb over your clit again. You gasped in pleasure and Zemo seized the opportunity to fully dominate you. You closed your eyes and tried to pretend that this wasn’t happening, praying that someone would find you and save you, but Zemo was making it impossible. He broke the kiss and placed a soft, mockingly loving, kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“Disobedient pets need training,” he said, “Time and patience is necessary but don’t worry,” his lips brushed along yours again, “We’re going to have all the time in the world.”

Your eyes flew open as Zemo added a third finger. Your hands tightened their grip on his shoulders and you collapsed against him feeling yourself get close. Zemo’s free hand stroked your hair and he whispered against your ear,

“There is no shame in giving into your desires. To take what you crave with the one person who can give it to you. I understand you, know you, better than anyone else. That boy you called your lover wasn’t fit for you.”

“He wasn’t… we never…”

“Good,” he said, “I would hate it if someone else touched you before me. It means that I can shape you into my perfect little pet. Keep you tied up and needy just for me. I’ll have you constantly on edge until you are begging for me. Tied up in my, sorry,” he chuckled darkly, “Our bed. By the end you’ll be pleading for me. You will come to me willingly or I’ll keep you bound and naked until you do.”

Your breathing became heavier as you felt the orgasm build up in you. Zemo exhaled deeply through his nose and rested his head on your shoulder.

“You’ve been a very bad little pet,” he said, “And I did think that deserves a punishment don’t you?”

You let out a cry of frustration as Zemo roughly pulled his fingers out of you. You sobbed at you lack of release and Zemo stroked your head in mock comfort. His hand moved from the back of your head to you chin as he forced you to look into his eyes. You wishes you had the strength to look away but you didn’t. You felt yourself started to fall and Zemo’s arm encircled around your waist and held you close to his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, “Behave yourself and I won’t have to do that again. Soon you’ll learn how beneficial it will be to give in and forget about your concerns. It will just be you, me and our perfect family.”

You tried to push Zemo away again, the thought of being forced to have a family with him renewing your determination to get away. However, the sharp pain in your neck swiftly put a stop to your escape attempt. Your limbs started to feel like they were made out of lead and all you were able to do was collapse as your knees buckled under you. Zemo held you in his arms and gently cradled you as darkness took over. Just as you slipped into unconsciousness the last thing you saw was Zemo’s smiling face and soft whispers of how you were going to be perfect for him.