#((trying to keep each one around 2k words just to keep the pace))

[mars4hellokitty]

We'll never have sex

Hockeyplayer!Vi x reader :)

| The notorious fuck boy has seemingly put her days of sleeping around behind her after getting in a committed relationship. But between her teammates and the reputation bestowed upon her, the pressure to please you becomes overbearing |

wordcount : 2k

cw : none really? angst if you squint really hard but other than that it's just tooth rotting fluff :p hurt x comfort. ALSO MY NATIVE LANGUAGE ISN'T ENGLISH SO PLEASE BE MINDFUL 🙂‍↕️🙏🏾

a/n : THANK YOU SO MUCH @applejusue FOR PROOF READING FOR ME MUAH ILY ALL 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

I just lost my ficginity guys 😓💔 I'm so so so so so so so so scared about posting this idk why it's probably like fine for my first try????? idk roast me to death or give me love idk idc um i don't think I'll write that much in the future??????? honestly who knows? ok i know I said roast me to death but dont be too harsh or I'll cry ☹️ OKAY HAVE FUN READING BYEEEEE

Milestones in relationships weren't something Vi was too familiar with, yet it felt like everyone around her had an internal checklist of these stages, which they expected their relationship to follow:

1. Dating

2. Officially being girlfriends

3. Saying ‘I love you’

4. Having sex

The hockey player was a notorious fuck boy in highschool, a reputation she has yet to be able to redeem. Because of this, her teammates are a bit…

Vi’s gaze traces up and down the aisle, trying to find something that you'd like. It was your anniversary and she wanted to get you something small to celebrate that, without the price hurting her wallet.

She grabs a box of chocolates she knew you loved, temporarily ignoring how many shifts at the Last drop it would cost her as she holds it gently.

Her teammate, Maddie, scoffs at her.

“I'd never spend that much money on such a prude.”

Vi's jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she huffs through her nose.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I didn't think you had it in you man, a few years ago you wouldn't even have had a girl around for a week, let alone 5 months!” another girl shoots in, her seemingly sinister snicker making the other ones laugh all over again.

Her teammates laugh.

Like it was unbelievable that Vi would be with someone without putting her tongue in them.

“Just quit it, alright?” She huffs, pushing past them to get to the cashier. Pretending as though their words didn't feed her already growing insecurities.

Of course she'd thought about it, why you two hadn't done it already, were you just not ready? Did you not like her? Was she disappointing you?

Was she even worth more than what she could do for others?

Her mind churns and wanders, not noticing the line diminishing until the cashier has to gently bring her back to earth, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

Vi flinches slightly, putting the chocolate on the conveyor belt with an apologetic expression.

Her teammates had left her — How predictable — leaving her to take the long route to the dorms.

On the way there she made a plan, she had to. You were going to leave her unless she stopped being all sappy and just fucked you already.

———————————————————————————

You had prepared everything, walking around and decorating the limited space you had in your dorm before your girlfriend was coming over.

You had your friends on speaker as you paced around, excitedly showing them everything you had bought as you neatly wrapped her gifts.

“I hope she'll like it!” You say excitedly to your friends, grinning.

The friends look at each other slightly before turning to talk to you.

“Look… It's been 5 months right?” She says carefully, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nod, not quite understand where this conversation was headed.

“And you haven't had sex?” Her question earns a groan from you as you keep tidying up.

“No we haven't, there's no deadline is there?” You ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

You didn't get why people put this timeline in front of you for no reason. Why couldn't you two just go at your own pace?

You were aware of Vi's past, and had a healthy dose of skepticism before you two started exclusively dating but she proved herself time and time again.

By this point you trusted her completely, which is why your friend’s unnecessary comment annoyed you.

“We're just looking out for you girlie, intimacy is important you know!” She says, trying to cover for the other friend.

Just as you were about to respond, the doorbell rings.

“She's here! "Bye!" You hang up before they get the chance to say anything, rushing to the door with a grin.

———————————————————————————

Vi nervously shuffles from foot to foot, the plans that were previously swirling around in her head now plummet to the ground at the sight of you.

She's more nervous than usual, smiling sheepishly as you hug, wiping her hands on her pants when you aren't looking, running her hands through her hair enough times to probably make it greasy despite her definitely showering properly before coming here god why was she such a mess?

You didn't seem to notice, or maybe you did and just didn't want to comment on it. Maybe you found her so disgusting it turned you off?

“Do you like it?” You smile, showing her how you've decorated the place.

You pull her out of this anxious trance, as she looks around.

You had put in so much effort, for her? She hugs you gently.

“Thank you baby, happy 5 month anniversary.” You say sweetly, kissing her cheek gently.

Vi usually loves it when you kiss her cheek, it's a comfortable way to show intimacy, but now it's gotten to her. What if you kiss her other places instead of her lips on purpose?

Vi fidgets, picking at the skin of her scabbed knuckles.

You place the gifts you've wrapped neatly in front of Vi, smiling.

“Open it!” You coo, smiling as she takes the gifts, opening them.

The first gift is a bunny plushie dressed up as a hockey player, including the puck and the ball. You smile, proud that you got your girlfriend something she'd enjoy having.

A smile creeps up the pinkettes face. “Thank you babe.” Her hand reaches for yours, kissing it gently.

You giggle, enjoying her chivalrous ways of thanking you.

“I could thank you in other ways, you know?” Her voice gets low, watching your body language as she turns your hand, kissing up your forearm.

You shiver slightly, your breath labored ever so slightly.

“What- what are you doing?” the words slipped out, slightly shocked.

The pink haired girl freezes, looking up at you as she slowly pulls her lips away.

“I'm sorry I thought you wanted-” She begins, her eyes searching your face as the tears sting behind them.

A worried expression paints your face as you move closer towards your girlfriend.

“Thought I wanted what?” You ask softly, looking up at her.

“We've been together for almost half a year and we haven't had sex!” She blurts out, the words hanging in the air for a beat too long.

“There's no deadline, Vi.” You reassure her, grabbing her face gently, letting your thumbs caress her soft cheeks.

“But haven't you been waiting?” The pinkette asks, the statements from her teammates sticking to her like glue.

“To have sex? no?” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like sex was just something you randomly chose one day to want. Like it hadn't been plaguing your mind like her teammates said it had.

“But they said…” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who's they, Vi?”

“... "My teammates."

You groan, having made it clear that you've never liked them a long time ago.

“Violet Vanderson, listen to me alright?” You say sternly, yet your voice is laced with love.

“I’d love you even if you told me you never wanted to have sex” You say, matter of factly. Her eyes water as your thumb reaches up to wipe it away.

“You mean more to me than that, you know that right?” You reassure, search her face for any sign of her taking your words into account.

Her tough exterior finally crumbles, her face scrunching up as she cries, her face in your hands. You pull her into a hug, soothing her gently.

All those years, only being pursued for one thing, convinced her she wouldn't find someone who wanted her for more than that. Someone who would hold her while she cries in a kitchen decorated to celebrate their 5 month anniversary.

“I love you, not just what you can give me. I love all of you.” You cooed gently, kissing her hair.

“I love you too.” She sobbed, burrying her head in the crook of your neck.

———————————————————————————

You stay like that for a while,embracing each other as your hands drawing soothing circles on her back ever so gently.

When the pinkette looks up at you, her glossy powder blue eyes slightly red from all the crying, you simply smile.

“Do you want to sit on the couch? you still haven't opened the other present I got you.” You coo softly, kissing away the remaining tears.

Vi closes her eyes for a moment, soaking in the kisses, as if the soft plush of your lips would heal the wounds deep in her soul.

Without any warning she simply picks you up, playfully running over to the couch with you.

You laugh, playfully scolding her to slow down so she doesn't drop you. Your girlfriend gets the gift you got her as she sits down, placing you on her lap.

You turn to face her, straddling her lap to see her reaction better. “Go on, open it.” You urge her impatiently as she laughs.

“Calm down princess, I will.” She smirks, unwrapping the gift gently. The neat wrapping is undone carefully, a silent appreciation for your wrapping skills.

Her smirk widens into a smile as she opens the small box, finding a silver necklace with a violet colored stone inside.

“I know you don't wear these kinds of necklaces very often but it reminded me of you and-” her soft lips met yours before you were able to finish your sentence.

It wasn't rushed, heated, hungry or ranchy like she had planned it to be before she entered your dorm.

It was simple, sweet and loving, and she wouldn't want it to be any other way.

She takes notices of you smiling in the kiss, smiling as well. Vi’s unending stamina takes a toll on you as you gently pull away, needing air.

“So I take it you liked the gift?” You say in-between catching your breath.

“Liked is an understatement. I loved it, thank you so much.”

“I can put it on you if you want?” You suggest, gently taking the necklace out of her hands.

Vi nods as you lean in, breathing in the smell of your perfume as you lock the necklace.

You place a kiss on her neck, a gentle peck.

“It tickles,” she responds, grinning

“I love you” You murmur gently, pulling away

Vi hums gently in response

“The necklace looks really good on you, violet on violet.” You grin.

The pinkettes blue eyes roll at you, caressing your hips gently.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You ask, turning around to reach for the remote.

“Sure, why don't you pick something princess?” She murmurs gently, placing her chin on your shoulder.

The tv glows gently as the time flies by as you watch the movie, occasionally switching positions as you talk about everything and nothing at all.

The credits roll on the tv screen, Vi spooning you gently. She peaks over your shoulder to check-in on you only to see you sleeping. She smiles, kissing the top of your head gently as she closes her eyes.

———————————————————————————

She's convinced their coach hates them when the fluorescent lights in the ice rink attacked her eyes early in the morning.

The harsh sounds of the ice-skating blades slashing through the ice echo throughout the rink, in sync with the swish from the hockey stick perfectly leading the puck through the different obstacle courses.

At some point during the practice you had come, holding a water bottle as you waved excitedly waiting for her to see you.

Her heart skipped a beat as her powder blue eyes met yours. You came to her practice, with water.

Such a small gesture, yet so considerate.

You really did care.

Your gaze kept Vi in a trance —well until Coach Sevika came over— momentarily distracting her.

Maddie skates up next to her, nudging her slightly

“Hey Vi, you got any action last night?” Maddie snickers.

Vi smirks “Why, do you need any tips?” She shoots back.

Her teammates all collectively ‘ooo’ and Maddie scoffs, crossing her arms.

“N-no! me and Caitlyn are doing just fine!”

“If you must know, we watched a movie and fell asleep.”

Her teammates quiet down.

“and that's.. that alright with you?” Another one of them quipped, gauging Vi's reaction.

“Yeah. We're taking things at our own pace. One step at a time.” She answers, smiling as she looks up at you again.

Besides, there's no deadline, is there?

Taglist : @lolitalovess @korn-dawg @usuck @wrappedinvines

[nightlyrequiem]

Work Wife

You've noticed a growing distance between you and Valeria. And when she forgets her lunch you bring it to her, finding out why. Valeria has a work wife.

AO3 W.C- 2,629

A/N- Minor angst as a little treat. This may be 2k words but treat it more like a drabble :3 NOT PROOF READ!!

Tags/Warnings- Light Angst, No Happy Ending, Emotional Cheating, Drama, Emotional Hurt No Comfort

Valeria forgot her lunch again. She's been doing it more and more often. You're starting to wonder if she's suddenly grown forgetful, or if she doesn't like your cooking anymore. You stare at the brown paper bag silently. Your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. It's not just the lunch. Valeria herself is just... different. there's been a shift in your dynamic and you don't know why. She just slinks around you, doesn't really make eye contact, like she feels guilty about something. Even though she still kisses your cheek when she comes home and lets you cuddle up with her on the couch there's still this emotional distance between you. You're sensitive to changes.

Valeria's occupation isn't something unknown to you. Though she does her best to keep you and it separate, some things still manage to slip through the cracks and find their way back to you. She's affiliated with the cartel, she sells drugs, she's probably killed at least one person, and you know the location of her base of operations. You don't like what she does. It's dangerous and ever since she returned home cut up and covered in blood - both her own and someone else's - you can't help but fret that someday, she won't come home at all. This of course has provoked a few arguments between you. By the end you're incoherent and crying, and Valeria has her warm palms cupping your face. She says she works hard and puts herself in danger so she can take care of you. Think of all the luxuries I give you, Mi Amor, she says. I just want you to want for nothing. But you'd give up the nice house and cars and jewelry if it ensured your wife's safety.

Perhaps it's her safety that's altering her behavior. You worry at the inside of your cheek. Maybe she's in danger. Not being able to handle not knowing, you grab the paper bag from the counter and walk towards the door, slipping on your shoes. You'll pay her a visit and ask around. If Valeria won't tell you, then someone else will. You don't like being a sitting duck, not knowing if Valeria's going to be taken from you at any moment. As what you'll do to help... you'll just have to think of it when you get there.

You set the bag on the passenger seat of your car and start it, backing down the long driveway. Nerves chew themselves up inside your stomach. You've never been to her warehouse before. Never met her workers. You know Valeria doesn't want you mixing with them, but she'll have to just suck it up. It takes you a while to find the building. You didn't know the exact location of her warehouse, you concede. Just the general area. You finally come up to a looming gray building. Disrupting the harmonious browns and beige of the surrounded desert. Two armed men pacing around the front stiffen and stare at you.

You want to turn around and go home, but you've come too far to give up now. You get out of the car slowly and wait for them to speak. Still and silent as statues, they just stare at you.

"Um... Hi!" You call out, waving. "Uh, Valeria forgot her lunch, I'm her.. her friend." You stammer. They look at each other and the bigger one whispers into the other's ear. He slowly walks up to you and you catch sight of a gun tucked into his pants. You try not to feel nervous about it. Valeria owns firearms. She taught you how to shoot before.

"What's your name?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. You give him your name and his face stays blank, giving nothing away. You shift and open the passenger seat, startling when the man swiftly draws his gun on you. "Stop!" He barks. You flinch back and raise your hands.

"I'm just grabbing her lunch!" You reply, heart pounding. The man frowns and stalks forward, pushing you aside to peer into your car. 

You're too frightened to tell him off for his bad manners. Keeping an eye on you, he reaches in and plucks the little paper bag off the seat and looks in it. Probably not feeling all that threatened by the container of noodles and chicken. He grunts and looks at you.

"I'll let her know you stopped by." He says, turning away. Disappointment and confusion tugs at you.

"I came to see her. I'm her wife, actually." You tell him nervously. Holding up your left hand to show him your wedding band. He looks at it for a long time then gives you a weird look. It's not the judgmental kind, you're not sure what it means.

"... She's pretty busy right now. I think you should leave." He says, gruff but less unfriendly. He sounds almost... nervous.

You frown at him. "She's never too busy for me. Let me see her." You insist.

He frowns at you then looks back at the other man. His shoulders drop and he waves you forward.

"Fine. I'll take you to her. But I think it's in your best interest to leave." He mutters ominously. His words follow you into the building. Making you imagine all kinds of horrible things that could be happening. He stops outside of a room and knocks loudly twice. A muffled voice tells him to come in.

With a heavy, pounding heart you push open the door. You look inside and... stop. The room is a simple office. A wooden desk with a stack of papers near the back and a shelf of binders off to the side. Sunlight pours in through the window, backlighting Valeria... and the woman hunched over beside her. Valeria shifts away from her, getting that strange look on her face and alarms start blaring in your head.

"What are you doing here?" Valeria asks, her voice sharp. You frown at her tone, holding up her bagged lunch.

"You forgot this." You say, looking at the ither woman. She's pretty. Not at all rugged like the other workers. She blinks back at you. "Who's this?" You ask, narrowing your eyes.

Valeria clears her throat. "Her name's Layla," she says.

Layla smiles at you, plump lips pulling back to reveal straight white teeth. She extends a hand forward.

"Nice to meet you, you must be Valeria's wife. I'm her work wife, we're basically the same thing!" She laughs. Though you're not sure how anything she's said was funny.

"Work wife?" You repeat, lips thinning with disapproval. Anger flares in your chest. you are absolutely NOT the same thing. You glance down at the trash, seeing a different brown paper bag with scraps of food. 

"Layla, why don't you go check up on the cooks?" Valeria mutters, sending Layla away. Layla nods and smiles at Valeria, nodding at you before slipping out the door.

You don't look up from the trash, tightening your grip on the bag.

"Someone else has taken up the task of making your lunch, hm?" You speak after a few tense seconds. "Layla, I assume?"

"... It would be rude to deny food, Cariño." She says, brows furrowed. You stiffen.

"You didn't seem to think that way when you were denying my food." You reply indignantly. "Is my cooking not good enough anymore or what? And what the hell does she mean by 'work wife'?" You start raising your voice. 

Valeria stands.

"Lower your voice." She demands. "Look, it's not a big deal." She continues more softly. She rounds the desk and reaches out for you, pulling you close. "I'm married to you. She just likes to call herself my work wife because she brings me food and helps me out sometimes. It's..." She trails off, searching for the right words. "It's just platonic." Valeria's words do nothing to soothe you.

"You don't need a work wife, you have a wife wife." You reply tartly.

"You're getting jealous and upsetting yourself over nothing." Valeria sighs exasperatedly. "It's not a big deal, really."

"That's not for you to decide!" You snap, pulling away. "You've been acting different; you've been leaving your lunch at home. I was worried about you, Valeria!" You exclaim, suddenly feeling foolish.

Valeria shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. She leans back against the desk and the old wood creaks under her weight.

"I don't need you to worry about me. How many times do we have to go over this? I'm a grown woman. I was in the Special Forces for Christ's sake!" She snaps at you. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

You're mad that she's getting mad. She's not the one allowed to be mad here. "That's not the point," You say lowly. "I thought you were acting funny because you were in danger but it's because you've got some broad at work fawning over you, and you're letting her!"

"She's not fawning." Valeria snaps, glaring at you. "Why do you have to be so jealous and controlling? She's one of my workers."

"Not fawning?" You look at her blankly. "Kayla was practically unbuckling your belt and eating you out! I could see it in her eyes. She wants you. And I know you're stupid enough to not see it." You say angrily.

"Layla."

You frown. "What?"

"Her name is Layla, not Kayla." Valeria says flatly. You stare at her blankly. In disbelief that she actually corrected you about her name. You want to scream at her. Hit her. Instead, you throw her lunch into the trash on top of the other, eaten lunch.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," You say, shaking your head. You turn and storm out of her office, ignoring her words calling you back. You slam the door behind you and try to find your way back to the front entrance.

Back home, you pace restlessly. Brows pulled low and fists clenched. Your heart still hasn't settled it's angry rhythm, in fact it jumps wildly when you think about Valeria and Layla. Her work wife. What bullshit. You eventually retreat back to the bedroom and sit on the bed. Unable to do anything but stare at the wall. Your anger gives way to hurt and insecurity. Your fire slowly burning out. Weren't you enough? She even corrected you about her name. You start to wonder if there's more happening behind the scenes. If Layla is doing more than just bringing her lunch and helping her out.

You slept in the spare room that night.

The next day, you decide to go back. You bring another paper bag, filled with food you know will go uneaten. It's not Valeria's lunch. Since she seems to think she's too good for your cooking now. You scowl. The guards out front are different men but they aren't too hard to convince. You walk right on in. You slip around workers, ignoring their imploring looks. The warehouse is big and you get lost finding Valeria's office again. You're forced to ask for directions, and when you finally get there, your nerves are almost frayed enough to send you running home. But you need to see them together again. At least confirm to yourself that it's something weird and you're not overreacting.

You lean your ear against the door, trying to hear through the blood pounding in your ears. You hear muffled voices. Valeria's low timbre rumbling in the air with high pitched responses from Layla. You don't have to see her to know.

You struggle to pick up on what they're saying. 

"What are you doing?"

You jump and spin around guiltily. "What? Oh, I'm Valeria's... I have her lunch." You say to the man who caught you eavesdropping. He looks skeptical, large arms crossed over his chest. "Actually, could you bring this in to her for me?" You ask, handing him the bag. He frowns at you but knocks on the door and lets himself in. You peer around his back, zeroing in on Valeria and Layla sitting on a sofa next to each other. Valeria's holding a glass of whiskey and Layla has her feet curled up under her.

You look in just in time to see her shift away from Valeria. The man brings in the bag and Valeria stiffens, looking wholly uncomfortable.

"Where-? She starts asking. You step inside and her words falter. She nods at the man. "Go." The man leaves, glancing at you as he passes. You stare daggers at Layla. "What are you doing here?" Valeria asks.

"What is she doing here?" You growl back. Clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm.

"Working." Layla sniffs. Her lips twitch, like you're amusing her. You resist the urge to slap that smug little look off of her face.

"Working." You repeat, clicking your tongue and swinging your gaze back to Valeria. There's not even a single piece of paper on the table. Just a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass. Valeria turns to Layla.

"I think you should go. I need to have a chat with my wife." Valeria grits out. Layla nods, not even looking at you anymore.

"It's okay," She says, putting a hand on Valeria's arm. The action almost makes you start frothing like a rabid dog. If she doesn't get her hands off your wife, you might throw yourself at her. She stands and brushes past you. "I'll see you later, Valeria." You watch her leave, making sure she's gone.

A sigh brings your attention back to Valeria.

"What is your problem? You know I don't want you here." 

Her words sting. Even though you know (think) she doesn't mean them cruelly. "Why not?" You challenge. "Because you're worried I'll catch you cheating?"

"I'm not cheating. Layla is just my friend." Valeria says sharply. Your heart pangs at how significantly less softly she's looking at you.

"Thought she was your work wife." You snap, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at her.

"It's the same thing - it's all platonic." Valeria shakes her head, unimpressed. She pats the spot next to her but you don't move. Her expression darkens.

You stare at each other for a few tense seconds.

"Am I not allowed friends now?" She asks irately.

"That's not the problem!" You say angrily, raising your hands aggressively. "How much time are you spending with this woman?" You demand.

Valeria mulls over her words. "We work together, it's not-"

"How. Much. Time." You growl, taking a step towards her. She narrows her eyes.

"I don't know!" She snaps at you. "Most of the day? She helps me with paperwork. Do you know how long it would take if I were doing all of it on my own? You have her to thank that I'm able to come home to you at all!" Valeria shakes her head again and downs the rest of her drink.

Your eyes begin to prickle unexpectedly. You wish you weren't so sensitive.

"Are you cheating on me with her?" You ask. Instead of reassuring you like you want her too, Valeria only groans and rubs her face.

"No. I'm not cheating." She says dryly, like she's annoyed with you. "I love you, but you're so damn sensitive and emotional sometimes. It's not as big of a deal as you're making it seem." She sighs.

Valeria can't be bothered to comfort you, and that tells you all you need to know. You sniff, wipe your eyes, and compose yourself.

"Be friends with whoever you want." You say quietly, turning and walking out the door. You can get the hint. Why stay somewhere you're not wanted?

[venmondiese]

A KING’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As King Aegon II prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v, fluff and angst, reader is aegon's mistress, slight foreshadowing to aegon's fate, aegon depressed for jaehaerys.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEMOND'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A prince's farewell

“Fuck” he grunts, as his hips pound into yours, again and again. Aegon was a greedy man, and you were his favourite thing ever. 

Perhaps it was your gentleness to him that nobody else cared to show to him, or maybe it was your beauty. Not even he could know why you had him wrapped around your finger.

He knew one thing; he loved your cunt. 

As the carriage goes on and on, the King just pounds into your pussy, fucking you hard as your little wanton moans fill the carriage. He is King, and he will do whatever he wants, even if that means fucking his mistress whenever, wherever and however he wants.

Right now, it was you accommodated on the seats of the carriage, trying to hold onto the walls, the pillows, anything, as his cock entered again and again.

“Fuck, Aegon-” your little whine turns him on so badly, he grits his teeth as he practically hisses, feeling your cunt clenching around him so hard, it was driving him insane. 

Aegon was a hungry man, and he loved the pleasures of the flesh. There was probably nothing you haven’t done with him, and it pleased him very much. He loved you for it, and you loved him as well.

“I want to hear you moaning my name while I fuck this sweet dripping cunt” he mutters, picking up the speed as the lewd words fall from his lips naturally.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoing on the carriage, his hips rut more and more animalistic against yours. His hand is curled against your hip, applying the right amount of pleasure to keep you still, fucking you as you take his cock. 

“Aegon… Oh, gods…” Your moans are delight for his ears, as he groans and moans. He has never been one to be silent when fucking; he never held any sound for himself, more so when he knew you like hearing him as he liked hearing you. 

He was obsessed with every part from you. Your body, the curves of your ass, the way they sway invitingly for him, your breasts, your cunt… But, also, your mind. Aegon has never truly loved someone’s mind, and it was an odd yet comforting new feeling. 

“Fuck, you feel divine” Aegon says, biting his lower lip, as he increases his pace as he pounds into you. 

“My King, we have arrived-”

“Not now” He grunts as the servant tries to open the door of the carriage. 

You can hear the little sounds of the carriage moving, creaking at the weight and movements, Aegon’s hand roaming on your flesh as his shaft is deep inside you, and by the way you moan, your mouth wide open as your eyes are closed shut, the little drool falling from your lips… Aegon knows you are about to cum, feeling your tight cunt clenching around him, making him follow your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” your desperate noises are a delight for his ears, only serving to fuel his orgasm. 

“Yes, just like that” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he cums as well, groaning in delight as he comes inside you. He holds you still; as his hips slowly try to move deeper and deeper inside you, as his cum fill your womb.

You both were used to trying to make each other presentable, as he tries to comb and flatten your hair aftermath, and you pulled his breeches up for him, making sure his belt is not open and such. It was lovely, you realise, and it was something so familiar for both. 

It is your duty to entertain him as he is being equipped with the armour. The very same that the conqueror used at his time, and you smile fondly at him, trying to let his mind wander and not making him drown himself on wine before riding Sunfyre.

“Come” Aegon says as the Dragon keepers take Sunfyre out, pulling you closer to the dragon, and you chuckle a bit. Sunfyre wasn’t massive as you thought, but he was beautiful. 

The dim lights that entered the pit made his scales shine, as he was quick to come closer to Aegon and try to boop him with his nose and snuggle his head into his chest.

Aegon laughed, as he lets go of your hand to caress Sunfyre a bit more. It’s genuine. He’s happy, meeting his dragon, as Sunfyre plays some playful antics for his rider. You think it’s rather cute.

“He doesn’t bite” Aegon say, extending his hand and you slowly take it. You don’t doubt that he can, but you are sure he won’t.

“I’m pretty sure he can”

“He won’t bite you” He corrects himself as he rolls his eye, but you giggle. 

His scales are unsurprisingly warmer than you thought, as Aegon is still hugging him softly, smiling as he sees you caress his nose softly. Sunfyre seems to like your attention. A beautiful dragon -the most beautiful- was used to attention, you thought, but he craved yours, apart from Aegon’s. You smiled as you look at Aegon so comfortably hugging Sunfyre.

“He reminds me of you” you say softly “Craving my attention” your hand moves away but Sunfyre is quick to follow your touch, asking for more. “A needy thing”

Aegon smirks, looking at Sunfyre begging for more. “Always. When it comes to you. Sunfyre can feel it as well”

It was a soothing fact. Of course, being the King’s favourite had its privileges. Great dresses and position at court, for your kin as well. Your father knew well what he did, sending you to be one of Helaena’s ladies in waiting, as you later realized his motives. Yet still, Queen Helaena was so beloved, adored by everyone that it made you look bad. For stealing her husband from her. You didn’t hate her one bit, how could you? She was beloved to you as well, and she never had problems with you around. She was kind, and as mysterious as she was to everyone. You always felt bad until she reassured you the contrary, that she didn’t mind and she held no other love than sibling love to Aegon.

You smiled at Aegon. 

“Convenient” it were your words that had him smirk faintly, as he didn’t seem quite ready yet. 

You knew him well, to see the expression of his face, all his doubts, fears and expectations. He craves to be good. And to your eyes, he was more than perfect. But to your pity, that view didn’t extend to many people. 

As he gets ready, you take the helmet from the squire’s hands, and follow him from behind as he walks over to Sunfyre, who sings softly in the way that Dragons can. It’s melodic and beautiful, you soon realize. Aegon sings too, when he was drunk, or when he was in a good mood. When he was with you and….

Well, when he was with his kids. Now, you heard him sing with his only kid. You remember it, as Helaena was inconsolable; you played with Jaehaera and helped her to be the innocent little girl she was. Aegon, after finishing the business with both the golden cape and the Rat catchers, came to see her. So unlike him, yet he just sat Jaehaera on his lap and took Balerion on his fingers and played with her, singing some songs as they played without any words. 

You were a stranger to his family. You knew it. Yet you settled in, strangely. A friend to the mother, a weird aunt to the kids and a lover to the father. It isn’t like you don’t enjoy it. 

“You look adorable in that armour, though” you say smiling, taking a step back to watch him. He was extremely cute like that. The conqueror should have been taller, you imagine him as tall as Aegon’s grandsire. And Aegon wasn’t so tall, but you adored that

“I am supposed to be fearsome, not adorable” he says, moving to grab his cup of wine again.

You shrug, taking the cup from his hands and gulping the wine yourself. 

“Well, between you and Sunfyre, you’d make a beautiful pair. Fearsome… can be arranged for other occasion”

Aegon scoffs, taking the helmet with the conqueror’s crown on it, and he hesitates before pulling it on. 

“Wait, don’t be a brute” you say taking it from his hands. You were the only one to talk to the King like that, bossing him around as if nothing and he’ll follow your every whim as Kings follow the Gods.

You make him lean his head a bit as you accommodate his short and platinum hair, helping him to put it on the helmet on his head as you can hear Sunfyre sing on the back, waiting for Aegon. 

“I have a perfect view of your tits right now” he says, you can practically hear the smirk on his face, his head on the perfect angle to see your tits pressed tightly on your dress.

“I believe you do”

Once the helmet was on, you watched him with an endearing smile. It was so unlike him, to wear armour when he wasn’t a skilled fighter as Aemond was. But as the King, he repeated again and again that a Ruler should be fighting by his men's side, not cowering on a castle and waiting for the job to be done. 

“Be careful” you say to him, almost afraid. Aegon knows of the womanly worries, a Helaena had asked him the same: to be safe. 

“I’ll be. Sunfyre is there to protect me.” He says, trying to be nonchalant. 

“I know he’ll protect you, and you’ll protect him” 

Aegon nods, a bit lost in thought. “I want for them to trust me. I will fight by their side, and fight for my claim. I will learn how to be a proper ruler”

You nod, your hand searching the skin that his armour let out. You soothe him, and he allows himself to be vulnerable for you. “You’ll be."

"No one believes I do. My mother, my council, my grandsire... even Aemond..." It seems that the betraying of his brother is what hurts him the most. Even if Aemond was his political headache as of late, he was still his brother.

"You have me by your side. You have Helaena and Jaehaera-”

“Protect them” he interrupts you. “If anything, shall ever- If they come back…”

You understand his worry. Blood and Cheese. Even if both killers were dead, he was talking about the Blacks.

“I’ll do” you promise. “I’ll be with Jaehaera. And I’ll sing her the songs that you sang to her, so she doesn’t feel lonely”

“She has lost her twin. She will be forever lonely” he says, a bit gloomily.

You remain quiet for some moments. Aegon was different since that night, and you saw it on him every day. You held him as he cried, you comforted Helaena and Jaehaera. But Aegon just drank himself numb to forget the pain of his little son murdered.

“She has you” you remind him. “And I swear to you, by the old gods and the new, that I won’t let anything happen to Jaehaera. Anything. I promise”

That seems to calm him. “And I promise to comeback” he says walking closer to Sunfyre’s mount. “Even if it is with a few ugly scratches”

You roll your eyes amused, and look at his face. “You’ll be handsome even with some scratches.” you insist, as if the idea disgusts him, yet he is willing to get some scars to prove himself. “And I’ll take your hand as the Maester cures them. And I’ll kiss the little marks to make sure they heal”

Aegon smiles, looking at you as he leans to kiss your cheek. A tender gesture from him; Aegon wasn’t afraid to show displays of affection, at least not with you. You knew that Helaena wasn’t fond of them, but with you and his kids, he’ll make sure you are pampered in love. 

“Thanks for the words. They are well appreciated, and your love is all I needed. And this proper farewell too.” 

You smile, nodding as he climbs Sunfyre. It is not the first time you have seen the dragon; he once took you on flights, and the other time you had helped him to get Jaehaerys and Jaehaera on the mount, making sure they won’t fall, as they squirmed excitedly. 

“Pray for our win.” He says loudly, looking down at your figure “For the throne shall be ours, and for good” 

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated♡

[marauder-misprint]

Flirting

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2k words

cw: fluff

Regulus is waiting for you when you get back. You don’t really want to discuss his last question. You try to sneak past him to the girls’ dormitories.

“I need an answer,” he calls out, making his stop in your tracks. 

You weren’t in trouble. You couldn’t be in trouble. But that didn’t make you feel any less in trouble. The feeling of dread was already settled in your stomach as you made your way to the couch, retaking your place from earlier in the evening.

“Yes?” you ask, playing dumb. 

“Do you. fancy. Sirius?” he asks, speaking in a rhythm.

“I… I don’t think so?” Your face twists in your evident confusion of how you did feel for his brother.

“You don’t think so?” His disbelief is laced in his voice. “How do you not know?”

You blush and look away from Regulus. You knew you were bound to discuss this at some point with Sirius acting… however he was acting. 

“I mean, is he attractive? Yes, but I’d say the same thing about you and we’re just friends. He’s a semi-decent conversation and occasionally funny. But I don’t think it goes anywhere beyond that.”

“And those times you came back reeking of him? And disappearing with him at Slughorn’s party?”

You look back at Regulus so he can see you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve explained all of that to you. But what I want to know is why have you never mentioned his dog?”

“He has a dog? Since when?”

You can tell Regulus’ surprise is genuine. 

“Huh. I guess some time between when he ran away and today. Potter told me it was Sirius’ dog that got loose in their common room.” You shake your head. “I’m still fuzzy on why he has his dog here.”

Regulus leans back into the couch more. “Who knows anything about him and what he does? Bastard’s a mystery.”

“Definitely a confusing bloke…”

You move to stand up when Regulus reaches out to grab your arm.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

You laugh. “Oh, in your dreams, Black.”

With a smile on your face, you go to bed. Padfoot is on your mind as you drift to sleep. It was surprisingly refreshing to have seen a dog, especially with only being surrounded by cats for so long. 

---

You regret telling Regulus that you thought he was pretty. You had only said it to get him off your back about Sirius. Now, he was using it to tease you. And the worst part was not knowing if he was serious in some of his comments, particularly the more flirtatious ones. You really hope you hadn’t ruined a friendship with a simple comment that was supposed to be about his brother. 

You are walking back to the castle after a quidditch game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff when you realize that Regulus hadn’t made a comment about it. You had been with him since breakfast, standing at his side all of the match as he watched intently and made mental notes to bring up to the Slytherin captain later. Then he threw a casual arm around your shoulder, forcing you to match your pace more exactly to his.

“You know, I hear muggles give their girls their extra jerseys to wear on game days. I could, ah, give you mine next week.”

You physically exaggerate your eye roll.

“Anndd there it is!” you sigh. “No, Black. You’re pretty, but no.”

Regulus chuckles and squeezes your shoulder.

“But I’m pretty!”

“And an increasing pain in my ass,” you retort, making his chuckle turn into a fuller laugh. 

“Could be your pain.”

“Eh. I’ll pass.”

A few Slytherins around you ooh’d. Both you and Regulus roll your eyes while looking at each other with small smiles. Just as you didn’t know how serious Regulus was being, most of the Slytherins had no clue why Regulus was suddenly flirting with you semi-ardently. They knew he took you to Slughorn’s party, but that was about it. He was a private person. So for all they knew, you two had been dating for a while and keeping everything on the down low. As his teasingly flirtatious remarks occurred in more public places, you gained more attention for it.

And now Sirius had overheard. The Marauders weren’t too far behind you and Regulus as they left the pitch after the match. Regulus wasn’t necessarily quiet with his comment, nor were you with your response. He didn’t miss how comfortable you looked under his arm nor how at ease you were around him. Sirius narrows his eyes with a frown. He didn’t bother hiding that he was watching you; the boys knew he would be. Ever since you bonded with Padfoot, his obsession with you increased tenfold. 

“Did you all hear what she said?” Sirius asks as they reach their usual spot at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

“When?” James responds lazily, as if he’s already bored with the conversation before it’s started. “I’d ask who but you know.”

“As we were walking back, Prongs. She was talking to Regulus.”

“Can’t say I recall.”

“Well! Sounded like Regulus was flirting and she was turning him down. But! Oh, but, but, but! She called him pretty. If she thinks Regulus is pretty, that means I got to be pretty too, right?” Sirius rants, excitement filling his voice. “We got that singling resemblance!”

“Your family is literally inbred. Yes, you two look alike,” Peter says.

“Careful, Wormtail,” Sirius glares at him. “Watch what you say.”

“Just speaking the truth.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and turns back to James to continue his theories about turning you into a Sirius person. 

---

His plan ended up similar to being something that Peter had suggested a while ago: talk to her, ask her out. Heavy flirting is what Sirius was going for. His usual level of charm needed to be cranked up. Remus was the only one who wasn’t a huge fan of this and he let Sirius know. He suggested that Sirius just talk to her and try to spend time with her without being too imposing. Sirius, however, believed that wouldn’t get him the results he needed so he went with his gut. 

He follows you out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the last class of the day. James, Remus and Peter were already heading back to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius is glad that you’re only with Dorcas; if you had been with any of your other friends, he might have backed down, postponed his plan until you were alone.

“Dorcas, mind if I steal her for a moment?” he asks as he catches up with you.

Dorcas gives you a curious look. She doesn’t respond right away as the two of you have a nonverbal conversation. You were trying to get it across to her that you did not want to be left alone with Sirius right now, unsure if you could keep your temper. But when a wicked grin spread on her face, you knew you were doomed.

“If you tell me the password. I’ll go hang with Marls.”

You groan as Sirius smiles and tells her the new password. You cross your arms and turn toward Sirius once she is gone.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to confirm that you know how beautiful you are.”

You let out a noise of surprise that was similar to a snort. This boy was certainly full of surprises. 

“Um, thanks?” There was a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite describe.

“And, that Protego totalum you cast in class? Perfect.”

“Yeah? And my potion from class this morning? Impeccable, I’m guessing.”

Sirius isn’t a fan of how quickly you caught onto his flattery. Usually his charm got him a bit further. 

“Actually, yes,” he says, trying to save the little progress he thought he was making. “I’ve told you that you’re brilliant before, haven’t I?”

You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t remember.”

He hums.

“So what did you want? Or did you send Cas away so you could compliment-bomb me?”

“You, me, Hogsmeade this weekend. Butterbeers on me.”

You bark a laugh and try to turn it into a cough, but it’s too late. He heard the mirth of the noise.

“What?” he asks, sounding a bit hurt by your immediate reaction.

“Black, don’t be ridiculous. We both know it’d be a waste of our time.”

“Would it, though? I’ve enjoyed myself around you.”

You run a hand through your hair. You take a moment to figure out how to respond to him. It wasn’t Regulus. You couldn’t turn him down with a simple laugh and continue on. But there also wasn’t really a friendship to preserve under the refusal. Then you remember Padfoot.

“I won’t go on a date with someone who abandons their dog in their house’s common room.”

“What?”

You scoff. “Padfoot? Did Potter not tell you?”

Sirius shook his head, trying to not let you see that he was playing dumb. Of course he knew. He is Padfoot but you didn’t know that. Couldn’t know that and wouldn’t know that, not unless things took a dramatic turn for the better. 

“Your dog, the one you let run rampant in Gryffindor Tower. Dorcas was sent to get me because apparently he wasn’t listening to anyone. The common room was a mess when I got there. First years were terrified. I got him to settle and then waited for you to come back. I waited for probably over an hour. Where the hell were you that you couldn’t watch your dog?” You pause ever so briefly before continuing without his answer. He had opened his mouth to respond, but you spoke over whatever excuse he had. 

“You know, actually, I don’t care. It’s less of an issue where you were. The real issue is why is Padfoot at Hogwarts? Dogs aren’t allowed here! You have lessons! Homework! You can’t possibly care for a dog right now! Why isn’t he at the Potters? Or boarding? Or somewhere, I don’t know… Your cousin from Slughorn’s party? Could she watch him?”

Sirius has the decency to look a little remorseful. He’s looking at the ground like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Well?” you ask impatiently. 

“He’s usually at the Potters’ but you like dogs so-” Sirius starts to say.

Your incredulous laugh cut him off.

“Do not make this about me somehow,” you chastise him. 

“But it was for you.”

“If it was for me, from you, why weren’t you there?” 

“I… I had to be somewhere else.”

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Un-fucking-believable…”

“It’s true!” he practically begs, grabbing hold of the sides of your arms to keep you from turning away from him. “You have to believe me that if I could’ve been around to see your face when you saw a dog at Hogwarts, I would have been.”

“Whatever, Sirius.”

“Will you consider Hogsmeade? Please? Doesn’t have to be this weekend,” he asks, voice pleading. He’s also giving you puppy dog eyes, which he does with an uncanny likeness. 

“Why would I do that?”

Sirius stares at you.

“Because I brought a dog to Hogwarts for you.”

“Because I’m a dog person?”

He lets out a nervous laugh. He goes to scratch the back of his neck as he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Yeah. And you liked Padfoot, so obviously I have a good taste in dogs.”

“I like all dogs. Except for the one in front of me right now.”

“All I’m asking for is one real date. No drunken shenanigans. No smoking unless you want to. Just The Three Broomsticks and anything you want from Honeydukes.”

You cock your head. “Honeydukes? Upping the ante, I see.”

He laughs more confidently now. “Remus could kill me if I took a trip to Hogsmeade without him and didn’t return with some kind of chocolate.”

“How about this…” you say, biting your upper lip, “if you can convince Regulus that us going on a date is a good idea, I’ll go. If you can’t, I don’t have to.”

Sirius’ face lights up more than you thought it would. You thought the idea was impossible so why did he suddenly look so hopeful.

“You’re on, sweetheart,” he says. “Be ready for Hogsmeade this weekend.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468

[goldfades]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 ─ LH⁴³

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested ! can u write rough car smut with luke hughes please 🫶🏻🫶🏻 -> luke storms out of your friend's party because of a "good-natured" comment, causing you two to get into an argument in his car but quickly make up.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | SMUT with teensy bit of plot!!!!!!! slight angst, car sex (obvs), jealous!luke, rough!luke (not too much tho), unprotected p in v, no prep, dumbification (pls idk if this is the right word for it) but like VERY LITTLE, praise, luke being PUSSY DRUNK, choking (but not really), and pretty sure nothing else.

─ taglist | @dancerbailey @maryleclerc @valluvsu @bowen-power @bunting58 @daisysnhl @daisysthings @hearts-4-luke @iminlovewithtz11 @jackhughesily @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvelyzoe @ru-kru

─ ev's notes | this is quickly turning into a luke hughes fan-page (even tho i'm supposed to be in MY QUINN HUGHES ERAAAAA) request some stuff!!! my requests are open rn!!!!!!!

ALL IT TOOK WAS one backhanded comment and Luke was out of there.

He was practically dragging you at this point, his hands gripping yours as he walked out of the room. It didn't take a whole lot to realize he was angry ─ he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and his steps were sharp and quick, he needed to remove himself from the situation before he said or did something he might later regret.

You struggled to keep up with his fast pace, feeling the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. His grip on your hand was almost painful but you knew better than to protest or try to slow him down. When Luke was in this mood, it was best to let him cool off on his own terms.

You reached the car and he dropped your hand, opening the driver's door and getting inside. He didn't bother saying anything as he started the car as soon you got into it. You wanted to say something but you knew if you did, you will never hear the end of it.

You and Luke had gotten invited to one of your friend's get-together. Now this would be a normal occurrence if it weren't for the fact he strongly dislikes your friend. You knew why but it honestly didn't seem that big of a deal ─ your friend wasn't really a big fan of sports.

You knew the root of Luke's dislike for your friend stemmed from their differing interests. Luke, being a professional hockey player, lived and breathed the sport. It was his passion, his livelihood, and his identity in many ways. On the other hand, your friend couldn't care less about sports.

Now this all would not be a problem if your friend had a weird thing with teasing Luke. He really enjoyed getting a rise out of him but it wasn't like he targeted Luke, that was just how he was.

As the car hummed along the road, the tension inside it seemed to thicken with each passing mile. Luke's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack.

"Luke, we need to talk about this," you spoke up (despite your better judgement). You couldn't really find the words to put it lightly. He was being too sensitive, you wanted to say.

But of course, you couldn't. That was mean. You glanced back at the brunette, sympathy written all over your expression.

Luke shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with anger. "What's there to talk about?" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Your friend was out of line, and I'm not going to stand around and be disrespected like that."

"He wasn't trying to disrespect you, Luke," you countered, your voice rising slightly. "He was just joking around, like he always does."

"Well, maybe his idea of a joke isn't as funny as he thinks," Luke retorted, his grip on the wheel tightening even further.

You shook your head, feeling your temper flare. "You're being too sensitive," you shot back, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. "He's my friend, Luke. I'm not going to just cut him out of my life because you can't take a joke."

You knew you'd stepped over the edge, crossed a boundary you shouldn't have. Regret seeped into your expression as Luke's anger seemed to triple, if that was even possible. Your mouth hung open, trying to say something, anything but nothing came out.

Luke's expression darkened at your words, his jaw tightening even further as he processed your response. The silence in the car grew heavy, suffocating, as both of you grappled with the weight of your words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Luke spoke, his voice low and laced with barely-contained fury. "So that's how it is, huh?" he muttered, his gaze burning into yours.

"Luke, I'm sorry... I just-" You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. "I just..."

But before you could finish your sentence, Luke's words cut through the air like a knife, his anger now laced with a bitter edge.

"He's a little bitch, why are you trying to defend him so badly?" Luke's gaze bore into you as he spoke. "I bet you he can't even skate correctly and he's over here talking about hockey like he knows anything about it."

As he continued to speak, his voice was filled with something more than just mere anger. You could practically feel the jealousy radiating off of him and finally, it made sense ─ he was jealous. Your heart almost did a flip, it was... kinda cute.

Despite the venom in his words, your lips began to curve into a small smile. Luke looked over and his anger seemed to turn into utter irritation.

"Why are you smiling?" His words came out harsh but you just shook your head.

You shook your head, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your lips. "I'm not laughing at you," you assured him, though your tone was light. "It's just... you're cute when you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He repeated, angry coursing through his body. "Of him? Why? It's not like he stands a chance against me in anything. Jesus, Y/N. Jealous?"

"I didn't mean it like that," you said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "I just meant... it's cute when you get all protective. Like you care about me."

Luke's expression softened slightly at your explanation, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "Of course, I care about you," he said gruffly, his tone still tinged with irritation. "I hate that guy. So much, I don't think I've ever hated anyone more. And seeing him flirt with you-"

"What?" You interrupted. "Luke, he's not flirting with me."

Luke glared back at you, trying to suppress an annoyed groan. "Trust me, Y/N. I can fucking tell. You're just too friendly to get it. But you're my girl, I don't why he wants to one-up me. You're already mine."

"I am, I am yours." You repeated, your gaze softening slightly.

Luke looked back at you, his gaze filled with smugness and a maybe even desire. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly. "You fucking are." His voice was low and you felt his voice go right down south.

He pulled over the car and you felt your whole body burn up. He put the car in park and looked over at you, his gaze filled with desire. You knew you couldn't have him waiting so you just crossed over to him and straddled his lap.

Luke didn't waste any time ─ he grabbed your jaw and kissed you harshly. You let out an uncontrollable whimper at that, his touch almost bruising on your jaw. His lips drew lower, letting go of your jaw as he began kissing your neck.

You couldn't help but let out quiet whimpers, letting your head fall back.

"Mine," he mumbled against your neck with each kiss on your neck. You began grinding your hips against his and you felt his hard-on right on your clothed cunt, your whole body shaking with desire.

He stopped his actions and you let out a huff of disapproval. He gestured for you to move in the backseat and you did with no question, laying back as Luke got on top of you.

He slid your hips upward before taking ripping your leggings off. His touch was harsh but you didn't mind ─ Luke usually took his time with you and was much softer but you knew his mind was racing with jealousy. And you didn't wanna admit but you were kind of hoping for this outcome when you had first got into the car.

He pulled down his sweatpants and you could see his cock bulging out of his boxers. His head fell back in pleasure as he pulled himself out, the tip an angry red as pre-cum was leaking out of it. Luke let out a groan as he gave himself a few pumps before he slid your underwear to the side.

Usually, Luke was patient enough to stretch you out with his fingers but not tonight; he just needed to fuck you dumb, til your legs were shaking the only thing playing in your was him.

He leaned forward so he could pull you into a needy kiss before he slid his cock inside of you slowly. His kiss was sloppy as you let out a moan into it as he slowly bottomed you out. You felt the burn, Luke was pretty big and the lack of prep added some pain but you knew it would dissipate.

"Ah, fuck." Luke moaned into the kiss before he pulled away. He bottomed you out pretty quickly, you were so wet that he just slipped right in. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You whimpered in response before Luke slid his hands up to your neck, holding you tightly before he began thrusting in and out. His other hand was planted right on your hips, his grip firm. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you arched your back in response, the previous mentioned pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"You're mine," he grunted as he quickened his pace. He pulled your legs all the way to rest on his broad shoulders, fucking you from a new angle.

He was hitting in all the right spots, you could barely see straight. All that was coming out of your mouth were moans and unintelligible strings of praises and curses.

"Feel so fucking good, Jesus." Luke felt himself slip, your pussy felt so good and knowing that you were only for him, that he was the only one who's ever been this deep inside of you, made his knees weak. "Ah, fuck baby."

He began fucking you into the backseat, harsher and rougher than before. You couldn't even think straight anymore, your cries louder and your legs shaking as he did. Luke felt like he was on cloud 9, you were squeezing him so good and you were so perfectly made for him, not to mention how fucking beautiful you looked; your eyes closed, your head back, your face sweaty and your mouth slightly open as you took him ─

God, he was so fucking close. He closed his eyes because he knew if he kept looking at you, he'd cum. Luke held you down by your neck as he brought down his fingers to rub on your clit harshly and before neither of you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your cunt tightened against him, he let out a loud groan as he head fell back. A few more deep, messy and harsh thrusts and he was spilling inside of you. He fell on top of your heaving chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

Your fingers found his curls and you began to run your hands through them. Sure, it'd make them all frizzy but you knew it made Luke relax. The whole car was fogged up, making your lips curve up into a lazy smile.

With a gentle sigh, you pressed a warm kiss to the crown of Luke's head, relishing in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "I love you, I'm sorry-"

"No." He interjected, finally sitting up so he could face you entirely. "I'm sorry for... being all being all possessive and jealous back there. It's not fair to you, especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You reached out to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubbled jawline. "It's okay, Luke," you reassured him, your voice soft. "If I'm being honest, it was kind of hot."

"Yeah, I figured." He smirk as gestured to your legs as you rolled your eyes in amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of his playful expression. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice tinged with a teasing tone. "I mean, it's nice to know you care so much."

Luke's smirk widened into a full-fledged grin, his eyes sparkling with desire. "If being jealous always ends in us fucking like that, then maybe I should do it more often." he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You giggled as he did so, relaxing in his touch.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[girl-celestial]

The Governess

PART II OF III

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER, eventual smut. 2k+ words. mdni.

content warnings: eventual smut. period-accurate class divide, period-accurate attitudes, emotional dependency, possessive language

PART I , READ ON AO3

ARTHUR had returned to the manor four times in the past eleven days.

Always briefly. Always for business.

He came alone now, fewer drawn-out conversations with Dutch or the others. Just in and out, speaking with Mr. Braithwaite in low tones out near the stables or the rear parlor, then disappearing again before sundown. It should’ve ended there. But each time, he found you. Or perhaps, more truthfully, he didn’t avoid you.

The first time, it was near the winter parlor. You were adjusting your cuff, already halfway to the stairs when you heard his voice behind you.

“You pass through here this time every day, or am I just lucky?”

You turned slowly and found him leaning against the doorway like he’d just happened to pause there. His tone was light, but not mocking. Curious, maybe. A little too casual to be accidental.

“I’m returning a book,” you said, voice calm.

He gave a soft nod. Let his eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary.

“Seems you and I keep crossin’ paths.”

You offered a small, polite smile. “Only a coincidence.”

It should have been a gentle end to the moment.

But he took a step closer. Just one.

“Didn’t feel like one.”

That was enough.

You shifted back without moving. “You ought to be careful how you’re seen around this house.”

He looked at you then, properly. Like he understood something wasn’t being said.

His expression didn’t change much, but he straightened slightly. “Right.”

You nodded once and then walked past him, keeping your pace even.

He didn’t try again for a while.

When he did, it was quieter. A glance in passing. A soft “ma’am” when he stepped aside to let you through a narrow hall. No boldness. Just that same watchfulness, pressed down into something steadier.

You answered each one politely. Never cold. But never quite open.

And slowly, you felt him begin to shift.

Not because he lost interest. That wasn’t it. But because he’d felt the boundary, and now he hovered near it. Not pushing. Just waiting.

And that was harder to endure than anything else.

Because he hadn’t stopped noticing you.

And you hadn’t stopped feeling it. Even in silence, something between you was growing.

It was on the twelfth day that the quiet began to shift.

Arthur had come again, later than usual, the shadows long over the fields, the sky streaked in dusky rose and ash. He didn’t go inside this time. Met Catherine Braithwaite out by the paddocks instead, the older woman fidgeting with her gloves while Arthur stood with that same quiet weight.

You watched from the window above the servants’ corridor, unseen behind the lace.

The talk was short, sharper. There was a stiffness to Catherine’s posture you hadn’t seen before. And Arthur looked like he was done playing polite.

When they parted, there were no pleasantries. No nods. Just distance.

Arthur started back toward his horse.

Then, he paused.

He turned and looked straight at the house. At your window.

You flinched without meaning to. Stepped back from the curtains. But not before his eyes met yours.

Only for a second. No longer.

But it was enough.

You avoided the front of the manor after that.

Took longer routes through the corridors. Made sure the books were returned early. Lingered less near the back porch. You told yourself it was the smart thing to do. The right thing. You couldn’t afford suspicion. Not when Catherine had been quieter than usual. Not when the staff’s whispers started turning when you entered a room.

But despite all of that, despite every careful choice, you found a folded scrap of paper beneath your book on the library desk.

Your name wasn’t on it.

But it didn’t have to be.

Behind the hickory tree, dusk.

The handwriting was rough. The kind of scrawl made by calloused fingers and little schooling.

You stared at it for a long time before folding it into your sleeve.

—

You were there before the sun fully dipped.

Arthur stepped from the trees, quiet as always. No hat. Just the slope of his shoulders, the slow way he walked like nothing surprised him anymore. But when he saw you standing there, he paused.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he said.

“I almost didn’t,” you answered.

He gave a small nod, then let his eyes scan the tree line behind you. His jaw was set tight, like he’d already decided this wasn’t a good idea and was doing it anyway.

“There’s talk in the house,” he said. “Feels like eyes on every wall.”

“About me?”

“Could be.” He looked at you again. “You bein’ seen talkin’ to me... it don’t look right to them.”

You stayed quiet. The air between you was heavier than it should have been.

Then you said, “There’s something you need to know.”

His brows lifted, but he didn’t speak.

“There’s a shipment,” you said. “Moonshine, west orchard—hidden under the chapel floorboards. It’s not in the ledgers. Catherine’s keeping it out of Dutch’s deal. I heard her say it when she thought I was preoccupied during the children's lesson today."

Arthur’s expression didn’t shift much, but his shoulders straightened. He let out a breath through his nose.

“You tellin’ me this so I can use it, or so I’ll stop comin’ back?”

“Both.”

He nodded slowly. Looked past you for a moment, like he was trying to decide how much of that he believed.

“Then why come out here?” he asked. “If this is the last time.”

You hesitated.

“Because I wanted to see you,” you said, blunt.

That landed. You saw the tension flicker behind his eyes, the muscle in his jaw tighten. His hands shifted at his sides like he wanted to reach for something and wasn’t sure if it was his gun or you.

He took a step closer. Just one. Close enough that you could feel the heat off his coat, smell the road on him—sweat, tobacco, leather, horse.

He didn’t touch you. He didn’t have to.

“You always that honest?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“No,” you said. “Not usually.”

He gave a short breath. Almost a laugh, but it didn’t quite make it.

“I’ll pass the message on,” he said. “Dutch’ll want to know.”

Then, after a beat:

“You don’t hear from me again, it means I listened.”

You nodded, but you didn’t move.

He didn’t either.

Then he added, without looking at you:

“You’re not easy to stay away from, you know.”

You felt that all the way to your ribs.

But before you could answer, he stepped back, adjusting his coat as he turned toward the clearing.

His horse waited a few yards off, tied to a low branch, shifting quietly under the trees. Arthur moved slow, his boots brushing through fallen leaves. Not cautious—just reluctant. Like some part of him wanted to stay and didn’t quite know how to.

He untied the reins with one hand, the leather soft from wear, and gave the animal a brief pat along the neck. Then he mounted in a single, fluid motion, the saddle creaking beneath him.

He didn’t ride off right away.

Instead, he sat there, high in the saddle, and looked at you.

Not hardened. Not unreadable.

Just... quiet.

Like he was carrying something he hadn’t put words to yet, and probably wouldn’t.

The horse shifted under him. He tugged the reins gently.

And then he turned away.

No goodbye. No warning.

You stood there and watched until both man and horse disappeared between the trees, and the sound of hooves faded into the hush of the swamp.

The space he left behind felt too still. Like something you hadn’t meant to lose had already gone.

—

The manor was quiet when you returned.

You passed through the halls without seeing another soul. The light was low. The air still. You could hear the faint creak of the boards as you climbed the stairs to your room.

Inside, you didn’t bother to light a second lamp.

You sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting still in your lap.

Your chest ached with something you didn’t know how to name.

Maybe he meant it. Maybe he really won’t come back. He would be safe, and a tear slipped softly down your cheek.

And then—three soft knocks at the door.

Not loud. Not hurried.

Just... deliberate.

You froze.

No voice followed. No footsteps retreated.

Just silence.

And the waiting.

[aaizawashouta]

So This Is Love

pairing: naruto x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: he’s more than a war hero, your personal sunshine

warnings: none

Lazy fingers trail over warm skin. Early morning light pours into the bedroom, dancing with the sheer curtains that billow in the breeze. You forgot to shut the window last night, but summer was sneaking up early this year. A soft smile touches your lips as you trace over familiar scars. Naruto sleeps next to you, sheets pooled at his waist and snores slipping from his mouth. The sunlight warms his skin, making him glow. He looks ethereal, your very own god. Pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder his own lips twitch at the feeling.

Your eyes meet sleepy ones when he catches your hand. Lips parting when he brings it up to his mouth, placing light kisses to each of your fingertips. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fingers tingling. His smile is blinding as he stares at you. Blonde hair, a golden halo around his head and blue eyes you’d surely drown in if you stare too long.

There aren’t many days like these. Where you get him only to yourself. The war may be over, but his dreams are just on the horizon. Naruto turned out to be a very important man and you couldn’t be more proud. Smiling at him you tilt your chin up, eyes meeting his as you gently place your lips against his. You can’t help the head sigh that escapes you when his hand weaves into your hair.

“Good morning.”

“Mhm.”

Naruto laughs when you pull away from him. He loves how easy it is to get you all flustered. Some days treating it like a game, trying to beat his personal best. You roll your eyes, ignoring his grabby hands and make your way to the kitchen. It doesn’t take him long to follow after you.

It’s something about the way he watches you. His eyes devour you from where he sits at the dining table, elbow on the table, chin in hand. He grins at you, his whole aura almost as blinding as the sun peaking out from between the drapes as you bring him a cup of tea. He takes the cup from you, calloused fingers lingering on your own. Eyes trailing as the cup lifts to his lips, and down his throat. Licking your lips at the bob of his adams apple.

“Honey, you’re staring.”

Your eyes meet his. “So?”

A yelp escapes you when hands wrap around your thighs and lift you to the table. You glare at him when your ass collides with the mug, almost tipping it over. Naruto only smirks, leaning in to capture your lips with his. Your stomach clenches, the taste of him and your favorite tea almost drowning you. The feeling of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your inner thighs, the only thing keeping you afloat. Tipping your head back when his lips leave yours, leaving a burning trail down your neck. The pace is slow, lazy, matching the tone of your morning. Naruto’s thumbs keep rubbing into your skin even as his hands rise higher, finding themselves underneath his shirt you had picked up from the floor earlier.

“You’ve got studying to do, Naru.”

He grumbles against your shoulder. Iruka makes sure to come by every so often while Naruto is on missions. That way you can help keep him updated on how he’s doing with his work. He has to do the work, if he wants to be hokage. He won’t let Kakashi keep the title forever.

“I don’t want to.”

You can’t help but snort at his pouting. “I know, but I can help, yeah?”

You keep your eyes trained on the sketchbook in your lap, attempting not to be conspicuous when you look up to study him every now and then. The idea makes you snort. As if your staring has ever bothered him. You stared so hard when you first met him that you hadn’t heard a thing he said to you for about three minutes. It was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you, but hey, he thought you were the cutest thing.

Once he figured out you truly weren’t an idiot. It all worked out.

When he looks up at you now and catches you lost in thought as you admire him, his lips tilt up into a teasing grin. You wink at him before looking back down at the book. You’ve drawn him a hundred times before. This one is probably your favorite. Him at home, content with you. Holding the piece back a bit, you study your favorite parts. The gentle way his lashes rest against his cheeks. The slope of his nose. He looks peaceful. Godlike.

“What are you drawing over there, honey?”

You don’t have to look up from the sketchbook to know that his smirk has turned more haughty than before, and when he leans forward a little, you lean back at the same time to keep your sketchbook out of his reach.

He knows you draw him. He’s seen a few of them. He’s seen almost all of your artwork. In fact, he has one of your drawings tattooed on him. He got it while on your honeymoon. You thought he was crazy but he thinks he was being romantic. Whatever. But this one, it feels different. More personal. It’s not him being vulnerable on the page, but you as well.

“Just the garden,” you lie, with a little shrug, looking back out the window for added effect, scrunching your eyes slightly as if to examine it in depth.

“The garden,” he repeats. He doesn’t believe you. Not like he has to. He knows without a doubt you’re lying. “That why you keep looking at me?”

“Maybe I just missed you, ever think of that?” You counter, but it comes out in a harsh whisper, like you're trying not to cry. Closing the sketchbook quickly, you nearly jam your finger in between the pages. His gaze burns over you, taking you in from your averted gaze, hands clenching your sketchbook, your rigged posture, back pressed so hard against the chair, as if purposely trying to keep a distance from him.

“Honey, I’m right here.”

You huff. As if you don’t already know this. As if you haven’t had your eyes on him since you crashed into him in the living room when he walked in last night, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He’d been gone for almost a month. It’s why you couldn’t sleep last night — because he’s home. He’s here and all you want is him close. You want him with you. You want him living inside you where he can’t ever escape; where the thought of losing him is only a nightmare. Your eyes have gone misty, something you can’t hide when you glance up at him when you feel a finger lazily drag up your arm. You raise your brows trying to feign innocence as you place the sketchbook on the other side of you. He could easily reach it if he wanted to, you’d have no chance at keeping it from him, but it seems that he can sense the anxiety radiating off of you. Naruto’s smirk falls into something softer, gentler. Something you’ve only seen a handful of times — something that he saves just for you.

“Dance with me.”

You hesitate for a small second. “What?”

His eyes brighten as he pulls himself up into a sitting position. He grabs your phone that’s sitting on the coffee table and raises the volume. Suddenly, it’s two years ago, the beginning of June and you’re standing in the middle of a crowd — all of your loved ones there to celebrate the two of you. The song tugs on your heartstrings more than it ever has before. Naruto’s eyes slightly crinkle with his smile.

“Dance with me.” he says softly as he extends his hand out for you to take.

Without much effort you're in his arms, swaying to the song that played during your first dance as a married couple. You can’t seem to stop the tears that fall from your eyes. You aren’t sad, but this feels like a lot. He’s got you wrapped up in him. One arm wrapped around your waist holding you to him, while the other is cradling your head, fingers weaved through your hair. Your head rests on his shoulder, hands tight around his waist, both of you lost in each other, in the magic of the radiant sun, the silence of the early afternoon.

“Do you regret marrying me?” Naruto whispers in your ear.

“No.”

“You’d choose this life again?”

“I’d choose you every time no matter what it meant. I can deal with this, Naru, as long as I get you back every time. Every time.”

His eyes rest heavy on you, and your pulse starts to race when the soft light in his eyes slightly darkens into something else. His gaze lingers on your lips long enough for you to tilt your chin up, bringing your mouth closer to his, and when his lips realign to that familiar smirk you know, like always, he’s more aware of the effect he has on you than he should be. Maybe you should be embarrassed by that, but it makes things easy. You never have to ask, he just knows. Like how you’re standing here with the electric hum of excited energy flooding your veins already, desperately waiting to feel his mouth on yours. He lowers his head slowly, eyeing you with a playful gleam telling you that he’s teasing you — that he knows his slow pace is driving you crazy. But it doesn’t last long, the moment you run your tongue along your bottom lip, his playful attitude breaks, and his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer as his hand slips down to grab at your thigh. Without much thought you jump, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you back to your bedroom.

With Naruto, kisses are more than just feeling his lips against yours. It’s his calloused fingers slowly brushing the inside of your thighs, in a slow teasing motion, that drives you crazy until you're grinding against him. Desperate for him to touch you, really touch you. It’s the taste of his spearmint tongue brushing against your own, sending white-hot jolts of pleasure straight down to your core. It’s the smell of him — intoxicating, mouthwatering, enough to make you weak at the knees. But more than anything, it’s the sound of him — of the deep exhales when your fingers dip into the band of his pajama pants to tease him, the throaty groan when you grind your hips down into his, the position of you resting over him on your bed one of power, one he gives only you. It’s the surprised laugh that echoes from him whenever you nibble on his bottom lip or pull away to catch your breath.

Your seconds away from doing that when he breaks away from the kiss, grinning up at you like he knows you weren’t breathing. He probably does. The man knows you like the back of his hand from the moment you met. Naruto only shakes his head, a soft laugh pouring out of him, his thumb running along your cheekbone. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars and the moon. But that can’t be right, can it? Not when he’s magic, a myth. Something you can’t really phantom. A god in your bed, carved marble under your fingertips. He is the earth and you, it’s lone moon, never far and always following closely behind.

There’s more studying to be done. Another mission that’ll take him away for who knows how long. But in a world of peace, for now, you’re willing to share him. Willing to be placed to the side so he can conquer his dreams. Willing to do anything and everything to help him.

His finger taps your nose, causing you to scrunch it. He grins down at you before bumping his nose against yours. “You’re everything.” He says it so softly, as if mirroring your thoughts. Assuring you in a way that baffles you always. How does he know? But that’s the magic of him, you think.

This is love, on a Sunday morning.

[olsenmyolsen]

ok hear me out there is a severe lack of CarolKate fics, maybe Carol trying to prepare/teach Kate how to be a leader of the young avengers but they just end up incessantly teasing each other verbally until Carol gets fed up and puts a very bratty Kate in her place and shows her who’s boss

“oh yeah? make me” and “prove it” and “i bet *you* cant even do that” vibes

Thank you for reaching out! <3. I enjoyed writing this dynamic a lot! Also all of my requests so far have been smut... don't know what that says about you all or me.

Prove It (18+)

master list . maroon master list . dark master list

MCU AU (Kate Bishop X Carol Danvers)

Summary: Carol is training Kate to lead the Young Avengers, but the 23-year-old can't keep her mouth shut.

Word Count: 2K

Content: Sex, Fingering, Petnames Kink, Praise, Oral, Feelings, Pinning, etc

Carol watched as Kate rose up from the black mats in the training room yet again.

Kate was in dire need of some training, specifically hand-to-hand combat if she was going to be one of the leaders of the Young Avengers or whatever the hell Kamala was putting together.

Kamala Khan had talked to Carol about her own band of heroes for the last couple of months, but honestly, Carol put on a smile and tuned the hero from Jersey out most of the time.

"Okay, you got me that time, but that's because I was going easy," Carol smirked at Kate's words. "Oh really? What about the other twenty-nine times?" Kate put on a confident smile. "You wish it was twenty-nine times."

"No, it has been twenty-nine times. I've been keeping count." Kate's face fell. "Oh." Carol put her hands up ready to go again. "Really?" Kate asked, making Carol smile. "Yes. Now, come on, hit me."

"Oh, usually that comes after dinner. And with consent." Carol rolled her eyes as Kate laughed and put her hands up before her, pacing around Carol. The two of them had been going at it for at least an hour and a half, but Kate and her mouth had yet to stop.

Clint told Carol all about how great the archer was. But he warned her that she never stops talking. Like ever.

Carol was beginning to miss Goose and their quiet purrs.

Kate moved closer to Carol but made the mistake of moving her eyes to the point where she would strike—making it easy for Carol to lift her leg and collide with Kate's stomach. The younger woman stumbling back. "Jeez, I thought Clint said you took Karate or something?"

"He talked about me?" Kate ignored the rest of Carol's words. Carol sighed. "Yes, one of the world's greatest archers, but you still can't land a punch without someone hitting you first."

"Okay, ouch." Kate put her hands over her heart and faked being stabbed. Carol stopped moving and waited for Kate and her theatrics to be done.

It took another thirty seconds.

"Okay, kid, let's see if you can't resist telegraphing your moves." Kate made a face at the K word. "Ew, don't call me that." Carol and Kate began to circle one another. Carol looked slightly confused. "What kid? Doesn't Clint call you that?"

Kate lightly shrugged. "Yeah, but he's like a father figure, plus it sounds wrong coming from someone's mouth that isn't as old as him." Carol shook her head and laughed. "You know I'm technically over sixty."

Kate couldn't stop the words flying out of her mouth.

"Not with a body like that."

Carol stopped moving. Kate stopped moving. "Oh god. She's going to kill me." The Bishop girl whispered under her breath.

After a beat of silence, a glowing smirk grew on Carol's face. She had a new angle. "I see," Carol said, dragging her feet along the mat, slowly moving again. Kate stumbled before she also started moving. Afraid of what Carol would say and do.

"You're attracted to me."

Kate's mouth dropped. "No- I mean, yes, you're attractive, but no, I'm not- to you."

A blind man would be attracted to Carol Danvers.

Carol squinted. "You sure about that, honey?" Kate's eyes went wide as she gulped. Carol was having fun now. "Go back to calling me kid," Kate demanded, but Carol laughed. "Why are you afraid I'm bringing up some mommy issues?"

Kate exhaled. She needed to try and get the upper hand again. "And what if you are?" She replied. Carol shrugged after a second. "Then quit being a brat about it."

Kate's body grew warmer.

She licked her lips and opened her mouth. A little squeak came out before her words. "Well, maybe I just need to be put in my place." Carol raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip. "You got that right, sweetie." Kate's brain almost died, but luckily for her, she had the threat of Carol charging at her to worry about.

So she put her one leg back and planted her foot before lifting her other one to hit Carol, but the blonde was fast. She grabbed onto Kate's leg and dragged it down as she slid underneath Kate and her blue eyes.

Kate's face and then body hit the mat. Yes, in that order.

"Oh, Mommy's sorry," Carol said in a fake voice with a pout. Tingles surround Kate but she turned over onto her back and meet Carol's eyes. "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Carol tilted her head with a smile. Kate huffed. She didn't know what she was yelling about. Either Carol grabbing her and pulling her to the floor or the nicknames.

"Like I said, Momm-" "Stop that!" Kate yelled from the floor. Carol took steps towards Kate until her body was over the younger woman's. Carol crouched over Kate. "Oh, you want me to stop?" Carol's voice switched from her fake, almost pornographic tone to her real one. "Let me guess, it's turning you on?"

A little frustrated, Kate lifted up and pushed Carol, making the blonde quickly shoot up and use her powers to catch herself from falling.

"Oh, okay." Carol took the hit and news well. Kate was red in the cheeks because of embarrassment, fear, and because Carol was right. The blonde crossed her arms over her white tank top. "You want me to stop treating you like the brat you are?"

Kate rose to her feet. Hands in front of her. "I'm twenty-three, not a fucking brat."

"Not with that attitude." Carol barked back. The training slowly works its way to the front of her mind again. On the battlefield, you couldn't waste a second having an attitude like this.

Kate was silent. "Okay. You want me to stop, baby?" Kate nodded. "Yes." Carol nodded and removed her arms from in front of her chest. "Oh yeah? Make me. Take me to the mat."

Kate let out a quiet sigh. Her body and mind were fighting for control, but she raised her hands and knew she needed to beat Carol.

"Atta girl." Carol winked in a sultry voice that made Kate clench her jaw and move towards Carol with a greater quickness than Carol had seen all day. Except Kate was still Kate and stumbled as she took a comprehensive step to the right, forcing her to launch forward into Carol.

But Carol was observing and moved her body to take the impact softer. Catching Kate.

Who then stepped on Carol's foot.

So technically, Kate did take Carol to the mat.

Kate landed on top of Carol as Carol wrapped her arms around the younger woman. The impact made a grunt slip from Carol's lips to Kate's ears. Quickly, Kate lifted her upper half off of Carol, and Carol's hands fell from Kate's back to her hips.

They stayed there as Kate looked over Carol's face. "Well, technically, you did what I asked," Carol smirked. "Y-yeah, I did." Kate stumbled as she felt Carol's rough hands squeeze her hips. "The problem is... I don't think this little slip-up means you're ready to lead a team."

Kate refrained from rolling her eyes—something Carol noticed.

"Oh yeah?" Kate whispered as she spread her legs wider on either side of Carol's. Carol nodded. "Yeah. Your attitude is still there, too." Kate moved her hands to Carol's and pulled them away from her body. She placed them onto the mat as her hands slid to Carol's wrist. Her body hanging over the blonde's. "I think you like it."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Kate couldn't win. "A leader takes control, Kate." Carol gently said into the space between the two. Carol was giving Kate an opportunity. Kate slowly leaned forward until her lips hung inches away from Carol's. She looked through her eyes to see Carol's blue ones telling her she wanted it.

Kate wrapped her hand around Carol's wrist and placed her lips onto Carol's. The older woman became intoxicated from one taste of Kate Bishop. Her soft pink tasted like lavender against Carol's.

The blonde could smell the body lotion Kate used in the morning. Kate could smell and taste the chapstick Carol loved.

As the two were becoming lost in one another, Kate began to grind her hips into Carol's—the friction causing a much-needed release of pleasure as Kate moaned into Carol's mouth.

Carol nodded and moaned as Kate's lips moved to her neck. Quickly, Carol lifted her arms up and wrapped them around her. Touching and feeling her skin.

Carol's hands burned with desire against Kate.

"Oh fuck, baby!" Carol moaned when Kate began sucking on Carol's chest.

Carol moved her hands down to Kate's sides again. She squeezed and slipped her hands underneath the seam of Kate's shorts. Kate moaned as Carol lifted her head to kiss Kate's chest. At the same time, Carol's left hand moved through Kate's untrimmed hairs. "You feel so good!" Carol groaned as Kate nodded with squeaks. "Oh fuck, Carol!" Kate cried out as Carol's middle finger ran over the wet spot Kate had.

Carol lifted her body with her powers and took Kate into her arm as she placed Kate gently onto her back. Her lips still attacking the you get woman's chest. Her middle finger was still pressing against Kate's covered wet pussy. "Oh, Mom-"

Kate stopped herself, but Carol heard it. She pulled her hand out of Kate's shorts and brought it to Kate's mouth. "Open." Kate hesitated. "I'm giving you orders, Kate." Carol reaffirmed with a commanding voice. "That's it. Be good for Mommy." Carol watched as Kate's mouth dropped, and slowly, Carol's finger disappeared as Kate's mouth wrapped around it.

"Keep sucking. Do you taste yourself?" Kate nodded with a muffled moan.

Carol was making her feel a way no one else had.

Carol, with a smirk, pulled down the sides of Kate's shorts as Kate helped kick them off.

"You're doing so well, aren't you, baby? Being good for your Captain! Your leader!" Carol husked as she spread apart Kate's legs. Her lips dragging up the other woman's soft thighs. "Oh, Kate." Carol leaned down and kissed the wet spot of Kate's black cotton underwear. With Kate's hand around Carol's wrist, she kept sucking and licking Carol's fingers until Carol pulled them out. Drool coating the younger woman's chest as Carol brought those same fingers to Kate's clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty," Carol said before pulling the black panties to the side. "Fuck Carol, you're so hot!" Kate whined. Carol loved hearing Kate come unglued.

"Oh, just touch me. Please!" Kate cried out. Her fingers ran through the blonde's short hair until she reached the back of Carol's head and pushed it closer to her wet clit. Carol gave in with a smile. "There you go, Kate. Command me!"

Carol was still making this a teaching lesson, and it drove Kate crazy.

"Just shut up!" Kate responded, turned into a loud moan as Carol's tongue hit the bottom of her spread pussy and worked its way to the top of Kate's clit. Flicking the hood before she slipped her middle finger up and worked it in a circular motion.

Even through the workout leading to this moment, Carol couldn't get enough of Kate.

And Kate was in pure ecstasy as Carol ate her out and finger fucked her better than she had ever had at college.

"Oh fuck! Oh, Carol! I'm about to cum!" Kate lifted her head from the black mat and arched her back. "That's not my name, sweetheart!" Carol replied as she spit on her hand and slipped it through Kate's wet pussy lips before returning to her clit.

And Kate knew what Carol wanted to be called, but it was too late as her legs began to shake and she started cumming.

Carol kissed up Kate's body as she came down from her high. Carol knew she would be too exhausted to do anything to her, but she was okay with it.

"I have to say..." Kate started as her breathing slowed. "That might've been the best training I've ever done." Carol laughed as her body hung above Kate's. "Is that right?" Carol asked.

Kate nodded. "Although I'm not sure if anything will stick."

"Oh?" Carol raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I mean, if I want to be a leader, I have to learn from the best."

Carol went to open her mouth. Kate interrupted her thought. "From the best who's still around." Carol closed her mouth and smiled. "I'll make something out of you yet, Bishop," Carol whispered before she leaned down and softly kissed Kate. "You still need to prove it to me."

"Oh, I will." Kate kissed her again. "I will."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[imnotjaesblog]

Part 1: The Liar

Part 1 of 10

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Featuring: Dong Si Cheng

Summary: Si Cheng decides he can get everything he wants in this life if he has you. He can be successful, appreciated and most of all accepted in society if you are by his arm. Only when you blow him off does he feel that delusion shatter. In order to keep his dreams and pride unharmed he creates a lie saying he slept with the most unreachable girl on campus.

This results in you fucking every single last one of his idiot friends just to teach him a lesson.

Lying is wrong and you should only say things that are the truth.

Shit gets crazy after Part 1

Warnings: None

Part one has no smut just angst.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!

Words: 2K

7:49 pm

Your pencil tapped on your paper as you briefly checked the time. The exam had started an hour ago yet here you were now still stuck on the tenth question. Why wasn’t anything you studied on the exam? You asked yourself checking the clock again. You felt the heat pick up on the back of your neck. Beads of sweat form as you reread the question in your head.

Then you saw the word dinner and remembered in a few minutes you had to meet that boy from last week for dinner.

After meeting him at a frat party and being his beer pong party he whispered to you he’d take to dinner if you both won. It was Friday night, the day he said he’d take you and you were stuck in a classroom taking an exam.

-

Si Cheng waited outside the restaurant checking his watch. He arrived earlier than you did just so you wouldn’t believe he stood you up. Seeing eight slowly approaching he checked around to see if you were there. When he failed to find you he sat outside the restaurant on his phone.

He figured you’d arrive at eight, possibly a little after.

-

9:01 pm

You have finished the exam. Place it on your professor's desk and leave it in your car. The restaurant was only a few minutes away from your university the drive was only seven minutes long. When you arrived you saw WinWin sitting on a bench leg bouncing. You sighed debating on whether or not to drive off.

Si Cheng wasn’t the first guy to ask on a date. There have been many guys before Winwin who obsessed over you and your looks. The guys that kissed the ground you walked on. You were used to the Si Cheng types, guys that tried to make you feel like you owed them something because you were attractive. You rolled your eyes at the thought. You stopped your car deciding to let him down easily.

You didn’t need to rehearse the right words to say like a girl in the mirror breaking up with her boyfriend. You would say the same thing you always did, the truth at least part of it.

You were going to tell him it was because of your exam. However, you were also going to tell him you can’t stay out to do anything else since you had class in the morning even though you don’t have class on Saturdays. Walking over to him you noticed his outfit. Dressed in a black button-up and slacks that wrinkled from all the pacing he probably did at some point.

He looked up from his phone shaking his head. He stood up from the bench shoving his phone in his pocket. He walked over to you upset about your lateness. You sighed telling yourself in your head to do this quickly, your show was starting soon.

“Look I’m sorry I’m late, my exam went-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear some lame excuse. Just tell me the truth,” he said frustratedly. You sighed trying to hide your smile. You shook your head licking your front teeth in bubbling annoyance. You two barely know each other and he’s treating this like some breakup.

“Look my exam went on for longer than I thought, okay? Now if you excuse me I don’t need to explain the rest to you,” you said turning to walk away. Your foot barely reached the pavement before his hand grabbed your elbow. “Wait a minute don’t go. You owe me a date,” he said turning you around to face him causing your purse to slip from your arm and onto the ground.

He bent down to help you but you prevented him from touching anything.

“Uh I don’t owe you anything,” you said pulling away. You took out your hand sanitizer from your purse opened it and rubbed the liquid into your skin. You closed the cap putting it away. Take out your pink lip gloss and place it on your lips. You closed the top as you spoke to Si Cheng.

“And if I remember correctly you offered to take me out. I can say no whenever I want and because you're being a dick about me being late then I’m just going to go,” you said trying to hide how annoyed you felt. There is no reason for you to be wasting energy on this guy who you’ll avoid for the rest of your life. He scoffed this time not chasing after you as you walked away.

He nodded his head seeing you disappear into your car and drive off. “Okay then…then I’ll remember this my way,” he said to himself as he walked over to his car driving off to a lingerie store.

He walked into the store finding a pink pair of panties. He purchased the clothing immediately removing it from the bag once he sat in his car. He pulled your small bottle of perfume out that fell from your purse. He sprayed the black bottle twice on the panties waving them around. He sprayed your perfume in the back seat of his car, as well as his shirt. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, running a couple of fingers through his hair as well.

Once he looked fucked out he drove off back to his apartment that he shared with his friends.

“Heyyy how did it go?” Jaehyun asked the minute he saw Si Cheng walk in. Si Cheng smirked taking off his shoes and placing them near the others. He removed his jacket as well throwing it behind an empty chair. The other boys slowly started to gather around all waiting for Si Cheng response.

All of them had came over waiting for him to come home just to hear the details of the date Si Cheng claims you agreed too. The men in the room weren’t fully convinced you said to him. The boy, like many others had been drooling over you since orientation two years ago. He waited of his moment with you, and especially after discovering who your father is he had to rush in before someone else took his spot.

He sighed still feeling the sting in his chest. You not only rejected him, but embarrassed him and he was upset. However he couldn’t tell his friends. He couldn’t go back to being some loser. You were his one way ticket to the top. He wouldn’t let whatever status you had ruin it for him, even if he had to lie.

“Well I took her to that new Italian spot that just opened up. Not to far from the school,” he said seeing all the boys enter the room. Jaemin lighting up on the couch as he listened in on the story.

“La Villa right?” Johnny asked leaning against the wall. Si Cheng nodded looking his direction. He turned away looking back at the living room. He pulled back a chair sitting down and facing the room. “We spent some time there. We talked about life and her dad’s company. She said she could get me a job,” he said lying straight through his teeth.

Jisung’s eyes widened raising up from beside Haechan, Doyoung doing the same. They both shook their heads. Doyoung speaking up first. “No way. I’ve been trying to intern there for months and you get a job? Unbelievable,” he says falling back in his seat. Haechan chuckles mockingly beside Jisung.

“I’m sorry?” He raises a brow. Everyone turned their heads to him. “So all of sudden Y/n the hottest girl at our school not only agrees to go on a date with you, but also just gives you a job?” He questions a smirk on his lips as he licks his teeth. He shakes his head hands falling with a clap to his knees. “I’m sorry I just find that hard to believe. I mean if Jaehyun didn’t even have a shot what makes you believe you do?” He asked. Si Cheng felt his cheeks get hot. The same anger and embarrassment he felt earlier tonight still boiling inside him. Haechan always knew how to stir his pot.

“I mean let’s be so for real guys. She’s never been with anyone and all of sudden she puts out for him,” he points directly at Si Cheng, the spot light beginning to burn. He chuckled darkly looking back at the boy with the red cheeks. “There’s absolutely no fucking way,” he says causing Jeno to step up.

“He does have a point. No one here has ever even walked her home. The Y/n were all talking about would rather walk home in the dark then let anyone walk her home. I’m sorry Si Cheng I gotta agree with Haechan here,” he says with a sigh.

Most of the boys start to lose their faith. In a moments panic Si Cheng takes out the pink underwear from his pocket. “Not only did we go on a date, we fucked,” he said holding the panties out. The guys came closer rushing to the pink cloth. “No way,” YangYang says brushing his fingers on the cloth.

“Of course the virgins believe you,” said Yuta from the corner. He had been standing there the whole time. “It’s true. It even smells like her,” he said lifting the underwear to Taeyong’s nose. He sniffs the cloth eyes wide. He nods his head furiously. Causing Mark to take a whiff.

“It’s hers, it smells exactly like her perfume,” Mark says handing it to Doyoung. Doyoung takes a whiff humming in satisfaction. “It’s her perfume. Smells like Calculus,” he said closing his eyes picturing you at your seat sitting in front of him during class.

Jaehyun walks over snatching the panties from Doyoung’s hand waking him from his fantasy. He pouts seeing the cloth fly away. Jaehyun brings it to his nose. “Yeah this is definitely her perfume. No way Si Cheng could afford to buy a bottle of this,” he says holding the underwear up. Haechan takes it smelling it as well.

Everyone awaits his reaction. Having no choice but to give in he nods. “Okay okay It’s hers,” he says.

“I told you. We fucked my whole car smells like her,” he said seeing some of the thirsty boys run to his car. Opening the door and taking in the scent of your perfume. They were truly obsessed with you.

“You know this means your like a fucking king?” Mark asked Si Cheng. Si Cheng smirked to himself arms crossing over his chest as he stuffed the panties back in his pocket. Johnny walked over placing an arm around Si Cheng shoulder ruffling his hair. Si Cheng chuckled seeing the boys close his car door running back to the house.

Jisung sat in the same seat he did before. Something still felt so off to him. All of sudden you were interest in someone, and of all people interested in Si Cheng? It just doesn’t seem to make any sense. He frowned chewing on his lips as he watched his friends turn into animals at the very smell of you. All fighting to see who gets to keep your underwear.

He turned away walking into his shared room with Haechan. He closed the door behind him laying on his bed and turning on his phone. He opened Instagram scrolling through different post. Then you showed on his screen. He smiled liking the picture. Even if he didn’t know you very well, he couldn’t deny the obvious you were very beautiful. Like a breath of fresh air.

He wished he was the one to take out you. He sighs smile fading from his lips. You didn’t have to kiss him or even hold his hand. He just wanted to get to know you, take you out and listen to what you had to say. It can’t be easy always being chased around like a piece of meat. A part of him feels bad, for not only hearing what they say about you but not doing anything about it.

Starting to feel the pity swallow him up. He closes his phone placing it on his nightstand. He drifts off to sleep with only you in his mind.

While Jisung drifted off to sleep Si Cheng stood out in the living room drinking with his friends celebrating what he thought would be the start of the best day of his life.

If only he knew the worst was yet to come.

———

You walked down the hill outside your apartment building. Walking past the fountain full of birds chirping. Passing by an older couple sitting on a bench enjoying the warm weather. The sun is out and not a cloud in the sky. The breeze was cool, the warmth only adding comfort. Your dog sniffed around looking for her favorite spot. You held a coffee in your hand and shades concealing your eyes. The perfect day you thought.

You decided to follow in the couple's footsteps and sit on a bench just under a tree. Small bugs fly by buzzing around. A butterfly landing on a pink flower. You smiled pulling out your phone to take a picture. As your camera snapped you saw an incoming call from your closet friend Wendy.

You picked up the call quickly. Wendy never called you this early unless you were meeting for pilates, but your class wasn't until the evening. "Hello?" you answered her call.

"Y/n omg," she said voice full of relief. "Is everything okay?" you asked her holding on tightly to your lease so your dog wouldn't take off. She let out a shaky breath. "No exactly," she said.

"Why? Did you get pregnant?" you asked eyes wide. You were genuinely worried for her, her taste in men was so poor. "Fourtaunley no," she responded with relief. You picked up your dog and placed her on your lap. "What's up?" you asked looking in your small bag for a snack.

"That Si Cheng guy from Jaehyun's party is telling everyone you guys fucked," she said annoyed. You scoffed unbothered, What's Si Cheng to you? Some boy that you'll never have to see again.

"So?" you questioned with a shrug placing a grape in your mouth. You placed your dog on the bench bringing one leg over your knee. You sat back taking in the sunlight. "Who cares? It's not like anyone believes him," you said nonchalantly again used to the behavior of men.

"Doesn't seem like it. He's claiming you did, saying you left your underwear in his backseat as proof," she responded. Your laughter died but you weren't worried. You shrug slipping another green past your lips. "That can be anyone's. Besides, you know he's not my time," you said disgusted. You start to have doubts, did Wendy believe him over you?

"Yeah I know, but a bunch of guys went over to his house. They smelled your perfume all over his car," she said trying her best to make you understand how serious this is. You instead remained calm, this didn't have to become a huge problem when it stems from such a short issue. One phone call to your father and you could have this whole thing taken care of.

"That's impossible. The company from the perfume I own only sells twelve bottles a year. No way he could afford to get his hands on that, it's more than his tuition," you said still unfazed.

"Y/n he told the whole school. Everyone believes him, he's on a fucking high right The boys I practically kiss his feet, and even some of the professors are nicer to him. He's even telling people your father is giving him a job," she said finally getting your attention.

She sighed. "Whether you fucked him or not it's completely getting to his head. We gotta do something about this," she said determined to help you. You thought about it for a moment. Letting your leg swing and your lip pouting helps you think.

He thinks he can lie and get away with it. Use you to get to your family and walk freely while you suffer the consequences of what? Being a woman. That's not fair and you knew you had to do something about it.

"Hello? Y/n are you okay?" Wendy asked.

You smirked a hopeful feeling in your chest. You nodded looking back at the butterfly from before. You watched as it flew away.

"Wendy, can you get me a list of all of Winwin's friends?" you asked but you were telling her. "Why what are you planning on doing?" she asked a hint of mischief in her voice.

"I am gonna fuck every last one of his friends. Teach him lying is bad and then watch him fall apart," you said feeling high off the confidence that flowed through your veins. A part of you is still disappointed in men and angry with their ways.

"I found his friends, I'll send you the list," she said. You heard your phone bing. Checking it you opened notes seeing the list of names.

Park Jisung.

The dork from your anatomy class.

To be continued…

Hope you enjoyed part one of my Easy A series and see you soon for part two!

Tags: @sexygrass @scarfac3 @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @chazzthecannoli @kyungsooislifeu

[metalmonki]

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 12

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

That night, I found myself in Dean's bed. After finishing my bath and changing into my pajamas, I made my way down the hall to his room. He was lying sprawled out across the bed, relaxed in nothing but a black t-shirt and boxer briefs. Taking a steadying breath, I lay down beside him, feeling a little out of my element but strangely comfortable.

Dean wrapped an arm around me, his fingers absentmindedly weaving through my hair. I found myself inching closer, resting my head on his chest, my hand splayed over his stomach, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall as he breathed. Just as I started drifting off, I felt the soft rumble of his laughter under my cheek.

“This is freakin’ weird,” he murmured, half amused, half uncertain.

I yawned, my own voice drowsy. “Tell me about it.”

A silence settled over us, but it was comfortable—almost warm, even with the lingering strangeness of sharing a bed. He shifted, pulling me a little closer, and his breath brushed against my hair.

“Guess we’ll have to get used to it,” he said softly, almost to himself.

There was something in his voice, a hesitance or a quiet vulnerability that surprised me. Dean wasn’t usually the type to dwell on emotions or look too closely at things that made him uncomfortable. I wanted to ask what he meant, but his fingers resumed their soft, steady rhythm through my hair, and I found myself sinking further into the quiet safety of his embrace.

Eventually, Dean’s breathing evened out, and I realized he’d fallen asleep. I stayed awake a while longer, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart beneath my cheek.

The next morning Dean and I were up and pacing at the hatch waiting for the groceries to be delivered. Sam, Theresa and Bobby had stopped answering our calls weeks ago. Hell, I was convinced we could be dead and they probably wouldn’t come checking on us. The creaking of the hatch sent both of us running to be the first one at the hatch.

Sam stood on the other side of the hatch, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You two done yet? Or do I need to leave you in there another week?"

Dean glanced at me, a mix of frustration and reluctance clear in his eyes. He’d never been good at talking about feelings, and being forced into it? That was a nightmare. I felt his hand twitch slightly, the tiniest hint of tension under his cool exterior.

“We’ve dealt with it, okay?” Dean called out, his voice taking on that half-annoyed, half-pleading tone he used when he was trying not to lose it. “Just open the damn door.”

Sam’s skeptical laugh filtered through the small space. “I’m not buying it, Dean. You’ve been dancing around this for months, man. What makes you think I’ll believe you after a couple of weeks stuck together?”

I sighed, stepping closer to the hatch. "Sam, it’s not about the time we’ve been locked up. We talked. We... figured some things out." I glanced at Dean, who gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod. "We know where we stand now."

Sam's footsteps moved closer, and his voice dropped lower, more serious. "And where’s that?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably beside me, running a hand through his hair. "We're good, alright? You can let us out now."

"Yeah?" Sam’s voice was filled with suspicion. "So, what’s the plan then? Gonna keep pretending nothing happened, or have you two finally admitted you’re crazy about each other?"

I blushed at Sam’s bluntness, but before I could respond, Dean stepped forward, his jaw tightening. "We’re done pretending, Sam. Now, can you let us out or do I have to kick this door down?"

A long pause followed. I could practically hear Sam’s wheels turning as he debated whether we were telling the truth or if this was just another one of Dean’s deflections.

Then, finally, the sound of keys rattling echoed through the hatch.

"Alright," Sam said with a sigh. "But if I find out you’re still avoiding this… next time, I’m locking you in for a year."

The hatch creaked open, and the sunlight streamed in, hitting us both like a slap to the face. Dean shot me a sideways look, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

"See?" he muttered, nudging me lightly. "Told you we’d get out."

I smiled back, rolling my eyes but feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. Maybe we weren’t entirely done figuring things out, but one thing was for sure—we weren’t pretending anymore.

As we stepped through the door, the sudden brightness of the outdoors made me squint, but Dean’s hand in mine kept me grounded. His grip was firm—steady. For all the tension and frustration that had built up over the days, that simple touch felt like an anchor.

We looked around, expecting to see Bobby or even Theresa. But to our surprise, it was just Sam, leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed, watching us with that annoyingly knowing expression.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s everyone else?”

Sam shrugged, pushing off from the car. "Just me here. Bobby and Theresa are waiting back at his place. Figured they’d leave me to deal with you two first.”

Dean huffed, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Of course they did." He gave me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused, then started toward the Impala, pulling me along with him.

“You sure this isn’t some other test, Sammy? Locking us up wasn’t enough for you?” Dean teased, though his voice had a sharp edge to it.

Sam just raised an eyebrow. "Get in the car, Dean."

With a sigh, Dean let go of my hand long enough to open the passenger door for me, his fingers brushing mine again as I slid into the seat. There was a certain comfort in the familiar scent of the leather, the faint smell of gun oil and coffee that always clung to Dean’s car. It felt like slipping back into something safe, even though we both knew things between us had shifted. Maybe for the better, maybe not, but we’d figure it out.

Dean climbed in beside me, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. Sam, of course, got in the backseat like it was his right to act all high and mighty.

As Dean started the engine, the low, familiar rumble of the Impala washed over me, sending a shiver of nostalgia down my spine. It was almost as if nothing had changed—except, this time, Dean’s hand found mine again, even as he steered the car down the gravel road.

Sam didn’t miss it. His gaze flickered to our joined hands, but he didn’t say anything. Just smirked that knowing smirk of his.

The ride to Bobby’s was quiet. I could feel the tension in Dean’s shoulders, the way he gripped the wheel a little too tightly. Maybe it was because we were driving back into reality, back to where things were messy and complicated. We’d had time in the house to confront some things, but the real world? That was another story.

After what felt like an eternity, the Impala pulled into Bobby’s driveway. The old house stood like a sentinel, the weight of all the memories, good and bad, hanging in the air. Theresa’s car was parked off to the side next to my Impala which one of them had clearly driven here, and I could already see her and Bobby waiting on the porch.

Dean cut the engine and exhaled slowly, his fingers still intertwined with mine. He glanced at me, his expression a mix of reluctance and resolve. "Ready for round two?" he asked quietly, though his voice had a teasing edge.

I smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "As long as you are."

Dean’s mouth curved into a smirk, and he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head before we climbed out of the car. Sam was already out, walking toward the porch where Bobby and Theresa stood waiting, arms crossed, looking like they had their own set of questions ready to go.

Whatever came next, Dean and I were in this together now. And maybe, just maybe, we could handle whatever round two had in store.

As soon as we stepped out of the Impala, Bobby and Theresa descended on us like we’d walked straight into an interrogation room.

Bobby’s gaze was sharp, arms crossed over his chest as he stood on the porch, his eyes flicking from me to Dean and back again. Theresa, standing beside him, had her hands on her hips, her expression unreadable but clearly sceptical.

“Alright,” Bobby started, his voice gruff but laced with that tone that let you know he wasn’t buying any crap. “You two better not think you’re off the hook just because you’ve been let out. Sam might’ve let you out, but I need to hear it from you.”

Dean gave me a quick side-eye before stepping forward, but before he could say anything, Theresa cut in, arms dropping to her sides as she took a step closer. “Are you really done pretending? Or is this just some act to get out of that house?”

I could feel the weight of their stares. Dean had tensed up beside me, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for another round of questions, but we had to deal with this.

“We’ve worked it out,” I said, speaking up before Dean could snap back with some sarcastic comment. “We’re not just playing along. We know it probably seems like that after all this, but it’s… different now.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. “Different how? You’ve been avoiding this for years, and now all of a sudden, a few days locked up together, and you’ve figured it all out? I ain’t buying it.”

Dean let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’re not saying everything’s magically perfect, Bobby. It’s not. But we’re done running from it. Done pretending like there’s nothing going on."

Theresa folded her arms, her expression softening just a bit as she tilted her head at me. “And you? Are you done pretending? Because this only works if you’re both all in.”

I felt Dean’s hand brush mine again, a small, subtle reassurance as I looked from him to Theresa. “Yeah, I’m done pretending. We both are. It wasn’t easy, but we talked. And we’re going to keep talking. We know where we stand now.”

Theresa studied us for a long moment, her eyes lingering on our joined hands. “You better,” she finally said, her voice gentler but still firm. “Because if I find out you’re back to ignoring each other, I’ll lock you both up myself. And believe me, it won’t be as nice as Sam’s version.”

“If I had my way all you would have gotten was a blanket on the floor and a pot to piss in” Bobby grunted in agreement, stepping forward with his no-nonsense look firmly in place. “You got a lot of history between you. I ain’t saying you gotta figure it all out today, but you better not go back to pretending none of this exists.”

Dean nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “We’re not going back to that. We’ll deal with it—together.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but there was a shift in the air, like Bobby and Theresa were finally starting to believe us, even if only a little.

Theresa sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides as she exchanged a look with Bobby. “Alright,” she said, her tone a little warmer now. “We’ll hold you to that. Just… don’t mess this up.”

Dean smirked, a bit of his usual confidence sneaking back in. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bobby shook his head, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as he muttered, “Well, let’s hope you’re telling the truth this time, or I’ll find a way to make sure you never leave each other’s sight.”

Dean squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that we were both ready for whatever came next. We weren’t done dealing with everything between us, but for the first time in a long time, we were on the same page. And that was enough—for now.

[thecoramaria]

Hello! I was wondering if you could give some tips on how to make fanfic chapters longer. I see a lot readers tend to like chapters around the 4k word mark or even more, but it's a feat if I write a chapter longer than 2k. The content I write is still good (imo) but I want to do more and am stuck on what to add that would benefit the fic and not be pointless filler. Thanks 🩷💛

Hey, Nonny!

First I'd just like to say that chapter length preferences among readers depend a lot on things like the type of fanfic and the platform you post on. For example, short chapters and frequent updates tend to be the standard on Wattpad. They're also pretty typical of episodic and/or slice-of-life stories. Because they rely on pre-established stories or worlds that the characters are familiar with, you just don't need to use as many words to move the plot forward every chapter (and in the case of an episodic story, you don't need to move an overarching plot forward at all, but from your ask, I don't get the vibe that you're trying to write that kind of thing).

Point is, sometimes short chapters work better for the story you're trying to tell, and they can also serve to make your story more binge-worthy (since it's easier to justify reading one more chapter), but they could lessen the experience for people following update-to-update, particularly if you don't update often. It's like the difference between being given a single piece of chocolate vs a full bar, you know?

If you really are set on posting longer chapters and believe this will make your story better, then here are my tips:

Figure out why your chapters are short in the first place. Is it because you make each scene its own chapter? Is it because your pacing flies past? Is it because it's light on details, or doesn't get specific enough? (E.g. "He set a tasty breakfast before her. She dug in with gusto." vs "He set a plate of steaming sunny-side-up eggs and crackling bacon before her. One wiff of the smokey, savoury aromas, and she snatched up her fork, shovelling it in. The salty crunch. The burst of creamy yolk. It was heaven.")

Combine chapters. If two or three chapters tie together nicely because they're part of the same arc, or take place in the same location, picking up where the other left off, those are good candidates to combine. Also if a chapter has an ending that doesn't give the reader a good reason to keep reading, but the next scene adds a jolt of tension back into the plot, that's also a good candidate for combining scenes/chapters.

Ask yourself what you can add to enhance what you already have there. For example, if you have a plot twist planned, is there a way you can include more foreshadowing? Is there an opportunity to flesh out your characters more? (If we mostly see a character put on a strong front, it'll tug our hearts when we see them show some vulnerability.) Is there an aspect of your worldbuilding that could use some explanation or showing off? (For example, if your plot involves saving the world, it's definitely a good idea to get your readers attached to said world.) Are there more obstacles you could add to the story that might also serve the previous purposes? Do you have a lot of high-tension back-to-back scenes that could use some quiet breather scenes in-between?

When editing, I've adopted the philosophy of "Cut as much as possible without sacrificing anything that enhances the story" as well as "Concise and precise" which means "say The Most with as few words as possible. To me, this is the key to avoiding filler in my own work, and how I create long stories that don't drag. I think that as you make your chapters longer, these are the ideas you should keep in mind, as these will help you determine if you're lengthening your story will pointless filler or adding something with value.

If you still struggle to make that distinction though, maybe find a beta-reader or a buddy who doesn't mind being spoiled for your work. You can soundboard your ideas with them to get a second opinion, because sometimes that's what you really need when you feel like there's something "wrong" with your work but you can't quite put your finger on it.

[thevoidwatches]

The following is a long, rambling story about my difficulties writing prose fiction in the last few years. If you want to skip to the end, it's that I'm taking the plunge into writing again and have started work on a queer erotic novel currently titled Melting in her Mouth. Snippets may be forthcoming as I write.

It's been a long time since I did any creative writing - well, unless you count superhero RP servers as creative writing. Let's just say that it's been a few years since I've done any prose writing. And it's been even longer since I wrote any original prose - the last long-form thing I wrote was a MHA fanfic, Breath of Life, which has gotten one update in the last four years but which I swear I will finish some day! Before that it was a series of original superhero novels that I got two-and-a-bit books into (can you tell that I like superheroes?) called Paternum, which I'm sorry to say I probably won't be going back to. If I ever do, it'll probably be a complete rewrite as I'm no longer satisfied with the pacing of my plot outline.

In these last few years, I've done a lot of other creative stuff. I've gotten a lot better at drawing (although like most artists I'm still never satisfied with my work). I've gotten a lot better at guitar (although I'm still not brave enough to try writing my own songs). I've done a lot of gamemastering, as the aforementioned RP servers were living worlds.

Mostly, though, I did RP. I did an awful lot of it - my records (because I'm that kind of nerd) suggest something like 2 million words, as a conservative estimate. That's a hell of a lot of writing. It's likely more than all my prose put together - Paternum totals to something like 400k, Breath of Life barely tops 100k, and none of my other non-public works like the Court Magician or Ruins of the Empire match up to either in length (around 60k but finished, and only 30k and abandoned, respectively). Even my early-early works like the Family Trade and Time Until Death (abandoned in college and finished in high school) won't tip the scales. I'm not even going to count story concepts that never got off the ground, like Starlight City Champions or the Empyriad.

Given that the vast majority of my output, now, has been collaborative RP - and that all of my recent work has been - it probably shouldn't be surprising that I find myself nervous at the idea of going back to prose. I have to write the whole thing?? All by myself?!? That's scary! Not to mention that these days I'm used to long, long-form stuff - stories with no set end, designed to continue immediately.

And that, of course, is a fear of its own. It's happened to me multiple times at this point - I come up with an idea for a story and start outlining it, and the outline just... keeps going. And going. And when I finally cut it off, at what seems like a reasonable point, I realize that it's actually unreasonable long. That's why Starlight City Champions is unlikely to ever happen - I outlined 6 books, then realized that each book was likely to be at least 300k words which, at a conservative estimate of writing around 2k words a week (the rate at which I wrote Paternum), would have taken almost two decades!

But the thing is, that fear - the fear that I'll never finish anything - was pushing me to never even start anything. If I never started, I would never disappoint myself by not finishing. But... either way, I wasn't putting out anything complete.

I've made a resolution to myself - I'm going to start a story, and I'm going to finish it. I'm starting small - a romance novella - and I'm starting self-contained. No room for sequels, no big overarching plot to spiral out of control, no huge cast of characters that all need development. A simple story with a straightforward outline.

I've prepared myself, I hope. I read Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat to make sure that my plot outline would work. I read some romance novels that I find inspirational - and aspirational - like @bibliosphere's Hunger Pangs and @unpretty's Unprofessional Behavior (can you guess that my novel is going to be erotica as well as romance?). I passed my outline to friends online to get feedback, and went through a handful of revisions before I told myself that it wasn't going to get any better by stalling longer.

I started writing Melting in her Mouth (working title, it may change) this weekend. After some false starts, the words are flowing again. I feel good about this. I feel hopeful.

If you take anything from this long, rambling meditation on nothing, let it be this - don't let your fears stop you from doing the things you enjoy.

Oh - and that I'm working on a queer erotic romance novel. Snippets may be forthcoming as I get farther into it.

[moseslikellamas]

Thorn of Winterfell

Chapter ten

Pairing - Stark!OC x Benjicot Blackwood

Summary - The Battle by the Lakeshore continues.

Warnings - graphic depictions of violence, lore™️, sketchy depictions of medieval hierarchies, blood, death, depictions of shock, dubious battle mechanics. Blood and injury.

Word count- 2k

On the ground Syana was at the mercy of the crowd. Bodies writhed against each other and the thick mud beneath them tried desperately to suck them under. She was better prepared this time. She kept her sword up defending blow after blow, despite her screaming shoulder. But the sheer amount of bodies pressing against each other made doing much of anything impossible after a while. She struggled just to breath, feeling as if she were suffocating in her armor.

The terrain was slippery, they battled too close to the water's edge. Syana was currently forcing her way through the crowd away from the waters edge with varying degrees of success. She knew she had to get away from the water or risk dying inside of it. Her blood was rushing through her ears dampening the sound of clashing steel. She was forced into blows by a man whose coat of arms was so muddy she didn’t know which house he was from. The only thing that mattered was the veracity of which he was trying to kill her. When he exposed a gap in his armor near his neck, Syana took the opportunity to slide her sword in. The sound of his choking was drowned out when she pulled her blade out, a cascade of blood spraying the front of her. Blindly wiping at her eyes she continued on.

Syana fought to keep her feet on the ground every second she swung her sword forward. The slippery mud caused several knights to grab on to anyone close enough, trying to keep themselves upright. She dodged around grabbing hands and falling men. If they pulled her down she would be dead for sure. Then very suddenly her feet were no longer on the ground. She dangled above it for a moment before being violently jerked backwards. Disoriented it took her a moment to realize she was back on a horse.

“You owe me for always saving your ass!” Myr yelled as she maneuvered the horse away from the thick reeds of the water.

Clumsily sheathing her sword, she drew her bow off her back. Loosing arrows she yelled back, “If we live, I’ll owe you as many as you want!”

The two spun in circles and in every direction were writhing bodies. A calamitous mass of brown, red and green that was deafening. Syana shot arrows at anyone too close to them, friend and foe blending into one big mess of bodies. As Myr directed their steed away from the water and Syana scouted ahead of them. Finally she caught sight of what she’d been looking for in a flash of white across the field.

“Head northeast.” She directed her friend.

“I see it.” She agreed and slowly they fought through the writhing mass of men.

The rain was fading out as they rode but she watched as a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky around them. For a moment it was as bright as mid day before the gloom came back to them. It was hard to gauge the wind as they’d begun to pick up speed but she estimated it was blowing fairly strong anyway. Just as they reached the Stark bannermen a clamorous clap of thunder nearly shook her from the saddle.

Then Cregan was there, one arm thrown around her.

“Thank the gods.” He said first his forehead pressed against hers.

He pulled away from her long enough to shout, “Issue the retreat, we ride now!” Then he was back talking to her.

“Sy, take this horse. There’s a long hard ride ahead of us. It’s time to buckle in.” He spoke to her in a soft voice. He helped her mount the new horse before remounting his own. “Stay close to my side.”

Then they were off. Her brother set a brutal pace at first, trying to distance them as quickly as possible from the action. But they were not all fast enough, it was then as the rain died completely that the beast descended. Vhaegar took up more of the sky than should’ve been possible, casting a dark shadow behind them. The whoosh of its powerful wings could be heard a moment before the screams began.

Syana was still in the lead point position, furthest from the monster ravaging the land but she still felt the blast of molten air that flowed from behind them. But she was no longer in a state of terror despite the situation. She risked a few glimpses behind her, awed at the sight of such terrible loss. The sky behind them now glowed a bruised maroon and scarlet. Embers flickered up into the ash filled air and everything was burning. The trees, grass, even parts of the surface of the water burned. It should have terrified her but the sight was oddly exhilarating. Seeing something so unimaginable, it almost felt like a dream.

Her brother very clearly did not share her fascination as he quickly led them out of sight. Their entire march had been south bending around the gods eye. They’d always been heading towards the river which eventually dumped into the Blackwater rush. An easy way to chart their path to King’s landing. But her brother pushed them further west and at one point forced them all to cross the river. The night was pitch dark with no moonlight to guide them but that didn’t stop Cregan from forcing them to ride all night.

They stopped only when they finally reached the Kingswood, the sun was well up and their horses damn near dead. Their remaining men did not look much better than their mounts. Their horses were dealt with first, directly after Cregan decided the first guard rotation. They gathered all of their supplies together and pulled a decent meal out of it somehow. Enough to shut her screaming stomach up anyway. Mostly though her sluggish mind wouldn’t stop turning over the events of the last few hours. Something wasn’t adding up and she couldn’t figure it out. Why had prince Aemond shown up after the army? Benjicot had insisted the prince would be there before the rest of them. His timing had been off on troop movements too. It made her brain itch.

Tents were pitched and Syana didn’t bother going into hers just yet. She knew she would be asleep on the spot and she wanted to speak to her brother first. Luckily his own tent was not far from hers. Though her shoulders dropped when she saw the line stretching outside of his tent. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who wanted a word with the head of house Stark. Huffing to herself she turned back around, she would talk to him later. Judging by the sunlight through the trees it was late afternoon. Her guard shift would be here all too soon, best she get a head start on sleeping. Perhaps a quick bath could be in order. They’d drawn water from the river earlier.

Set in her new plan of action, she entered her tent ready to enact it. Only to find the newest bane of her existence sitting on her bed. She frowned on instinct.

“What are you doing here?” She looked him up and down, incredulous that he was already cleaner than her. Had he gotten in and bathed immediately? She shook her head. What did it matter? She needed him to leave. She had her own plans for the day and they included sleeping all of it.

Benjicot didn’t speak immediately, he stood and walked over to her. She watched him with dull annoyance.

As he reached her side he said, “I see you managed to keep your sword up.” His fingers found the dents in her armor where much larger swords had tried to hack into her. The action only reminded her she had yet to shed the heavy outerwear.

She rolled her eyes at him and removed his hand from her. “You didn’t come here to confirm my battle prowess. So why don’t you save us both the time and tell me why you are here.”

Taking a step back from her, he turned towards the tent flap and said “Got something you’re gonna want to see.”

Then he was walking out of the tent and into camp. She stood there for a moment weighing her options before she cursed and quickly shed her armor. Her underclothes were plastered to her skin in sweat but she just pulled a new shirt overtop of hers and headed out after him. This better be worth my time, she thought as she jogged to catch up with Benjicots large strides.

Reaching his side she complained, “Must we traverse under all this secrecy? Surely you could just tell me what it is?”

He hardly acknowledged her though, pushing them deeper into the trees. The sunlight dripped through some of the leaves, painting them and the forest floor in speckled shadows. She could hear the river gurgling somewhere off in the distance. Now that she had shed her armor the wind dried her clothes quickly. The air was cold and crisp, the loose strands of hair that escaped her braid whipped around her as they walked.

While the walk was nice and serene, her patience was waning. Her body protested every step, screaming at her to lay down. The right side of her ribs ached where the backside of a battle axe had dented her armor. The blow had felt like it shattered her into a million pieces, while she wheezed desperately trying to suck air in. But it was nothing compared to her right shoulder which burned from over exertion. When she’d been separated from her horse, she’d lost the side quiver and had to switch to the one on her back. Back carrying was great for just that, carrying. It was not ideal for drawing arrows as it exhausted her arm having to reach backwards for every one. Her left wrist also hurt from the death grip she’d had on her bow the entire night.

Busy taking account of her various aches and injuries she missed Benjicot coming to stop. It wasn’t until he pulled her down into a crouch that she realized they’d stopped. They huddled together in the brush, peeking through the leaves into what looked like a small meadow. The grass was dead and very tall, blowing softly in the breeze. Now truly annoyed that he’d brought her to observe an empty field she started to stand and nearly missed it.

Half hunched over she saw the faintest flash of a leathery green tipped wing. If it had been summer, it might’ve blended perfectly with the grass and trees. But in that soft autumn glow it was a beacon against the pale yellow and brown. She would know that sight even in death.

She was on her feet and running before she could blink. Pain and injury were forgotten as she barreled through the grass which brushed her shoulders. When she finally burst through the grass into a clearing, she finally saw him in all his glory.

Vermax was half curled around himself, his head flashing up in the air at her arrival. But her eyes were hardly seeing the dragon in front of her. She was too busy scouting around the beast for its rider. And there off to the side nearly behind Vermax, stood the prince. She turned faster than she thought possible and sprinted at him full force. The two were knocked off their feet and sprawled in a pile on the ground.

She hugged him fiercely, laughter and tears both escaping her at the same rate. A hand grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her up off of the prince.

Setting her on her feet, Benjicot said, “Damn the man just survived battle and here you are trying to suffocate him.”

He offered a hand to Jace who was smirking from a seated position on the ground still. She watched as he stood, eyes raking over him checking to see he was whole. He looked a sight better than she did. His black riding clothes hiding any dirt or debris that might’ve been on him.

Then she turned to Benjicot, a smile still plastered on her face and kicked him as hard as she could in the shin.

[sensnotes]

Kintsugi (Bucky x OMC)

Chapter 2: Carry the Weight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Male Character

Summary:Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of crack with lacquer mixed with powdered gold Altair has only known an underground lab for the last five and a half years. That is, until he escapes and ends up in the avengers' tower to endure the torturous road to healing. This is his tale: confronting his past, forging his future, and finding himself along the way. Bucky has been freed from his Hydra brainwashing, but he still feels like a ticking time bomb, especially while everyone looks at him as if he is. However, the newbie in the tower makes him feel normal, useful. How far will he go to keep feeling it? - Or: my therapist suggested writing about my own trauma personified being loved

Word Count: over 2k

Warnings: human experimentation, blood, implied abuse, suicidal ideation, Trauma

A/N: I promise Bucky is going to be a snarky motherfucker, but there was a lot of him trying to be professional here. He's a tired old man Also, the blip *did* happen, but everyone is alive because I said so

The soft clicking sound of the thin red hand of the clock moved around the face at a snail's pace. Bucky sat in the cushy leather sofa against the wall with his hands clasped against his stomach and his feet planted firmly on the ground. The short black-haired woman that had served as his therapist for the last month stared at him as the seconds crawled by. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and the tapping of his foot against the floor. Waiting impatiently for the pointless session to be over with, he glanced at the overcast sky filtering gray light through the window.

"James..." His therapist--Doctor Maggie Ellis--started after fifteen minutes of silence. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "You know that these sessions are mandated, which means you actually have to speak to me, right?" Her dark eyes remained on him as she moved the notebook from her lap to the large brown desk behind her. She crossed her ankles and set her hands on her knees. "You can't avoid this."

"I can definitely try to," he quipped, picking the lint off of his jeans that wasn't there. He talked very little in each session, and when he did it was usually a smartass comment or a reluctant answer. He'd caused four other therapists to request to be released from his case because he just didn't see the point in talking to them. Ellis though, she had lasted longer than the others.

"No, you really can't. Unlike the other therapists you've had, not talking to me will have consequences. People are frustrated, and they're tired of you dancing around the subject." She stared at him expectantly before grabbing the notebook once more. There were more words on it than Bucky thought there should be, but he wouldn't be the one to point that out. "Tell me something you did this week or tell me about something that's bothering you. Literally anything. Otherwise, I have to report that you aren't cooperating."

Bucky sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling until the back of his head rested on the back of the couch. He sat up again to rub his shoulder where the prosthetic connected. The cold weather and storms always messed with his shoulder and old damage from Hydra and the military. "I hate the cold." When Ellis stared at him and gestured for him to go on, he continued. "It aggravates all the old injuries from my time...doing things. It reminds me of the cryostasis and staring out of the tiny window in the pod to watch the scientists freeze me over and over again. It..." he trailed off, unsure how to articulate how he was feeling or thinking. There were so many things that ran by him that it was hard to focus on a single thought long enough to be coherent. "It sucks."

"How do you feel about the cryostasis?"

He chuckled; it was a bitter sound full of disdain. "How do I feel about it? Angry, I guess. Angry and violated. The cryostasis always came after the brainwashing." He paused, debating himself about continuing with his next thought. "Sometimes...sometimes I wish I could be wiped one more time, so I don't have to remember all the awful things I did." Bucky picked at his pants again and avoided eye contact with Ellis. He despised eye contact; it always felt too personal, too revealing after everything he'd done. He felt like if anyone looked too closely, they'd see the piles of bodies of the people he killed in his eyes.

"If your memory was wiped again, what would you want to do?" Ellis asked, scribbling diligently in her notebook. She glanced up at him and waited for his answer with rapt attention.

"I'd love to go to one of those science conventions again, like the ones Howard Stark used to throw before the U.S. joined the war." He surprised himself with his answer, but it was the first thing that came to his mind. He really loved the excitement and awe of the crowd imagining what the future could have been like instead of the absolute crapshoot it was now.

"What about them appeals to you?"

"The hope. Everyone was so hopeful about what we could have all accomplished together back then. Being here now feels like a rope unraveling in the middle of an eight-way tug of war contest." There had been plenty of political unrest since the rest of the world returned from being Blipped, not to mention a new health crisis that seemed to pop up every other week to cause devastation while governments sat on their ass collect checks while sipping on gold-infused martinis.

"What gives you hope?"

It took him a long time to respond. He had to go through the metaphorical filing cabinet in his brain to find an answer. "People." He truly believed in the power of people. Individuals coming together for one common goal was effective, and with the whole world at odds, it was important for people to come together. It was important to have those you could rely on. He had at least one person, but no one else trusted him. When they looked at him, all they saw was a ticking time bomb waiting to be detonated.

"Can you expand on that?" Ellis adjusts her position on the chair once more, crossing one knee over the other.

"I don't know...just...people," he said after a long moment of silence. Glancing at the clock hanging above the door, he saw that the session was almost over. He just had to get through the last few minutes, and he'd be free to wander the compound. Maybe he'd take a walk around the outside of the building, wander through the trees to the shoreline, skip rocks. Who knows.

"Well, we have a few minutes left for today. Is there anything else on your mind?" Ellis asked, moving the notebook to the desk and closing it. When Bucky shook his head, she gave a small nod to allow him to leave. Nodding back, he stood and walked out of the room into the cool air of the hallway.

He meandered down the hallway along the enormous bulletproof windows letting the natural light into the building. Several people bustled by him in the employee uniform--a tight black shirt with the Avengers logo design on the front and black pants--chattering to each other. Bucky tried to avoid paying attention to the gossip, but he still caught bits and pieces about the med wing being off limits to everyone except designated personnel.

He shook his head when his thoughts began to wander to the med wing.

When he arrived in the main living space of the compound, he spun in a slow circle taking in all the bookshelves and tech desks surrounding him. The ceiling stretched far above him ending in metal beams that likely supported the roof. Natasha sat lounging on the red leather sofas in the center of the room with a magazine on her lap. She turned the pages languidly, skimming the pages and pretending to pay attention to the latest gossip. Clint stood in the kitchen with his wife while his kids sat at the long table with plates in front of them. He had moved them into the compound to keep an eye on them as he came out of retirement.

Tony sat hunched over a desk with a screen in front of him, likely perfecting whatever idea he'd had now. Bucky couldn't make anything out based on the schematics, but Stark looked like he had it in control. Peter sat at the desk next to Tony's tinkering with his webshooter's trigger. He had mentioned something about a block when he'd arrived with Stark's head of security.

Wanda skimmed through the books on the second floor. Her fingers brushed against the spines of the books and tomes along the second shelf as she searched for something. Vision floated along beside her, likely talking her ear off about some niche information that only he knew since he was essentially a computer.

The circular platform overlooking the entrance was occupied by Steve who stood still with his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes never left the lawn. He was lost in thought.

"Everything all right, Steve?" Bucky asked as he stepped onto the platform next to him. He turned to scan the grounds out front to see what Steve saw, but he gave up when he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary outside.

Steve hummed and turned toward him as he was pulled out of thought. "Oh, yeah. Just thinking."

"No, I know that look. Something's wrong. What is it?" Bucky frowned at him, noting the tension in his jaw and the tapping of his fingers against his bicep.

Steve glanced around the room as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He shook his head. "I can't give you any details, but once everyone gets here, there's going to be an announcement." He pulled Bucky closer to the massive windows that stretched to the ceiling. "You have to be in here for the announcement. It's not about you, but we're going to need all the help we can get."

Bucky's mind swirled with potential explanations. Was it another super soldier? Was it a Hydra agent? Was it Zemo--did he escape? Better yet, did Zemo die? Bucky stayed quiet and kept his inquiries to himself. Steve probably had a hard enough time keeping it to himself that Bucky didn't want to make it harder on him. He nodded at Steve and moved to the couch for the announcement to be made.

He sat on the couch opposite of Natasha and flipped absently through a magazine full of celebrity gossip. He had started to recognize some of the more popular ones, but a lot of them meant nothing to him. There was some kind of scandal about an affair on the front page, but he had no interest in learning about it. The news played quietly in the background as the news anchors chattered away with each other about new executive orders from the newest president--a corrupt celebrity granted the highest position in the nation spouting nonsense over and over again.

Bucky set the magazines down when the brothers sauntered in. Thor was walking slightly ahead of Loki--practically skipping-- and talking about his moves on the battlefield with Stormbreaker while Loki had an expression of being tortured on his face. The brothers had more or less set aside their differences to rule New Asgard together, and their time was split between the Avengers compound and their people. Loki took care of the calculation part of the job while Thor took the role of Battle Master very seriously.

Sam entered the common room a few minutes later in a track suit, his face slick with sweat. He'd obviously just been on a run. He collapsed on the couch next to Bucky and offered his closed fist for a bump before taking his earbuds out. "What's up man?"

"Same thing as always." Bucky returned the fist bump and moved over to give Sam room.

Before Sam could reply, the hulking figure of Bruce hurried into the common area with heavy footsteps. Ever since he had merged with Hulk, he seemed much more comfortable if not slightly insecure of his sheer size. Tony moved the goggles he was wearing to the top of his head and nudged Peter to give Bruce his attention. Natasha set the magazine down as Clint told his kids to head to the lawn outside with his wife. Wanda and Vision made their way down and sat on the couches next to Natasha. Steve met Bruce in the middle of the room as Loki and Thor took a spot on the couches as well.

"Alright everyone, we have...some news to share," Steve said as he clapped his hands together once. Everyone glanced between each other and then returned their attention to Steve and Bruce. "Fury gave us a heads up about a situation that happened in Wyoming. A man was rushed to the hospital after being shot just outside of the national park."

"What does that have to do with us?" Nat asked as she draped her arm on the back of the couch to pay attention.

"The man isn't human. Fury said that he told him about a facility that he escaped from. He's being hunted by whoever had him to take him back. Fury thinks that he's in danger and needs protecting while he heals and might be a potential team member." Steve glanced at all of them expectantly.

"So we're playing babysitter for this guy? Who is he? A king or something?" Tony asked with a frown as he crossed his arms. "Don't we have better things to do with our time? Like actual threats?" Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group.

"Whoever this guy is, Fury thinks that he's an asset. He also thinks that the threat to him is big enough to warrant our protection," Bruce explained, quieting the murmurs. He shifted on his big bare feet as he examined the group. "He's got a long recovery ahead and will need all the help he can get."

Steve steps forward, setting a hologram projector on the table. He pulls up an extensive list that Bucky recognized as injuries. Steve scrolled through the list slow enough that the others could see. "This kid has been through hell, and I expect everyone to help with shift watches in the med wing. It's off limits to everyone but a couple of nurses, and us to avoid attention getting out."

"If you guys have questions about anything not related to his health, feel free to reach out to me. Any medical questions can be deferred to Bruce."

[thatphantomtroupelady]

~HIS SHADOW~

An x Unlikely x Alliance

Hanako- rescued from a travelling circus at a young age- dedicated the rest of her life to her savior and older brother, Hisoka. However, she eventually realises there are worlds beyond the one her brother rules in. Will she be able to escape his shadow by being a hunter?

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Word Count: 2k

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This year's exam-site was a large area of land, bordered by tall electric fences. Long blades of grass that reached upto her waist went on for acres, interrupted only by a tall tower in the middle of the field. It reminded her of a lighthouse, painted a faded red and white.

"Do you think he's the examiner?" Hanako stared at the short man standing atop the tower, hands on his hips.

Hisoka only hummed in response, wide eyes dancing across the examinees. Of course.

"What do you think the exam this year is going to be?" She nudged his leg with a knee, annoyed.

"Who knows~" He continued his nonchalant assessment.

"You're in a mood." She scoffed. "What? Nervous? Excited? Or... bored?"

Hisoka tilted his head up to the skies, lost in thought. "Who knows~" He repeated, smiling down on her.

"Huh?" She glared up at him. "You're only doing that because you know it pisses me off."

"Who knows~" He patted her head in a mocking show of affection, walking away. When she began to follow him, he paused. "You know you can go off somewhere without me too."

"But- you like it when I'm with you... don't you?"

"Who knows~" He shrugged, continuing his pace.

"Fine." She rolled her matching golden eyes at his retreating figure. "I can manage on my own too, you know. I don't need you." She made an effort to say the last part louder, only getting more frustrated when he refused to 'grace' her with a reaction. Narcissist.

Before she could recover from that blow to her ego, a short stout man with a poor excuse of a friendly smile began to approach. Bad timing.

"Oh hey!" He babbled. "You know that guy? He looks pretty intimidating, huh?"

Hanako crossed her arms, turning away. "Who knows."

The man blinked stupidly before regaining his composure. "Right... I forgot to introduce myself. How rude! My name is Tonpa-" After a judging pause, he proudly added, "-and this is my 33rd attempt at the hunter exam."

"Psht. Thirty-three? You're really that weak? I mean you look weak, sure but... that's a bit too much."

She could sense Tonpa's aura flaring in suppressed anger as he gave her a nervous laugh. He can use nen? But no... his aura isn't strong enough to have been trained. Maybe he doesn't even know about it himself?

"If you keep failing so much, why keep trying?" She attempted to prod.

"Well," He smiled, scratching the back of his head with one hand, "I guess I'm a bit addicted to it."

"Sure." Hanako was unconvinced.

"Hmm... I'd say we have a toast to friendship!" Without waiting for an answer, he sets his rucksack on the ground and begins to go through it, careful to hide the remaining contents from her sight.

Is his plan now to team up with someone strong to pass? She wouldn't mind playing around with him really. At first notice, he appeared quite simple and week. Yet, she could sense something brewing under the surface, a potential waiting to be unlocked. After all, finding the exam site thirty-three times and not dying in each of his thirty two attempts so far has to count for something.

"Here!" He pulled out two cans of orange juice, holding one out for her.

"Cool." She mumbled as she accepted. She was thirsty anyway. The moment she pressed her lips to the can, Tonpa's aura shook with glee. Something was wrong. She pretended to take a sip.

"Like it?" He grinned.

Hanako shrugged. After a moment, she continued. "You wanna team up?"

Tonpa's eyes widened. "Wanna what?"

She shrugged once more. "Team up. I doubt it's agains the rules or anything."

"Why would you wanna team up with me?" He was on high alert.

"Maybe I just wanna see you pass." She glanced at the examiner high atop the tower, so high in fact that she could barely discern his appearance. "Who knows~"

Tonpa gulped. "Fine." He sounded more serious now. As the two shook hands, Hanako attempted to agitate his aura. He only frowned, pulling away a bit early.

"So... what's your name?" Tonpa asked, slightly more at ease.

"Just call me by my number. I don't like giving out names unless I have to."

"Sure." Tonpa read out the tag attached to her bright orange hoodie. "Number fifty-one. It's gonna be quite a while before the others arrive, huh? How about we find a nice place to sit?"

"Uh huh." The two walked on for a bit, before Hanako decided to settle down against the tower, placing the still-full can of juice next to her. At least the grass was shorter there. As she pressed the side of her head to the wall, however, a faint rumble shook her brain. What?

Backing off, she pressed her hands to the wall instead. A series of faint rumbles. Some over the other. A lack of a pattern. Couldn't be a machine.

"Hey," She frowned at Tonpa. "What do you think could be-"

"ALRIGHT!" The sudden announcement from above rattled her. The microphone sizzled before the examiner continued, "WELCOME TO THE TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIXTH HUNTER EXAM!" Shit. The stupid speaker was only a few feet above her. She ran a good few metres back with Tonpa at her heel before stopping to glare up at the examiner.

"I will be the examiner for your first phase, that shall begin in ten seconds. Survive to pass!" With that, he began counting down. "Ten! Nine! Eight!" Everyone took a wary fighting stance as one side of the bottom wall of the tower began shifting up to reveal metal bars. A cage? "Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three!" As the door stopped extending, the entire cage came into view. Beasts of all shapes and sized snarled inside, restless for blood. They were somewhat trained though, Hanako noticed. Despite being crammed into such a space, none of them were attacking each other. "Two! One! ZERO!"

More than half the examinees let out panicked cries, running away from the tower as the metal bars suddenly disappeared at 'zero'. Tonpa, too, was about to break into a run, before Hanako grabbed him by the collar. "As long as you stay close to me, I'll protect you, yeah?"

Trembling with fear, Tonpa nodded. The idiot was already trusting her with his life. Fine.

A big frog with wide blurry gray eyes took ridiculously high leaps towards them, Hanako's aura flared. Already, two examinees had been crushed under its weight, blood and gore stuck to its belly and feet. Suddenly, Hisoka's words before they entered the exam site echoed in her brain. "Don't show off your nen." Fair. The beast was not using any extra, so why should she?

Beside her Tonpa shuddered. "You'll take care of it, r- r- right? Because I sure as hell won't be able to."

"Of course." She took out a small but deadly sharp knife, previously hidden in her right boot. Amidst the chaos and the anxiety of the beast almost upon them, she focused. Using Gyo should be fair game. It was always useful in figuring out the weakness of the opponent. There was a complete lack of aura in his eyes. The stupidly big frog was... blind.

"Come on." She grabbed Tonpa's hand, forcing him to run along.

"Didn't you just say-" He began, panting with both mental and physical exertion.

"We don't have to fight it." She explained as they kept running towards a more emtpy area. She had stopped flinching over dead bodies a long time ago, but the amount of blood, gore and screams strewed around still kept her uneasy. The examiner was certainly a sadistic one.

Suddenly, an enlarged decapitated head of a... tiger? began rolling towards them at a great speed. The hell? It has only a single big eye where two should be and red bubbling drool oozed out of its mouth, spilling around in its trail. Where its neck should be was only a seemingly-thick layer of dark red skin. Its creepy eye was locked onto her, leaving her with no doubt that this one could in fact see. Fine then.

Leaping forward to take it head on (pun intended), she held the knife out in front of her, bringing the blade down just before she landed on its head. The beast screeched out, drool splashing in her general direction. Pulling out the knife from its eye a little too late before she jumped back, a few drops of the liquid landed on her collarbone, sizzling the skin there.

"Hisoka!" She cried out without thought as the chemical rapidly ate away at her skin and flesh. Through adrenaline blurred vision, she saw the creepy tiger head blindly rolling towards a stunned Tonpa, as she landed back on the ground. Shit. Bracing her body for a run, she- stopped.

A

 blur of motion and two cards were lodged at the side of its 'neck' ended. Before she could realise she was slipping, a strong hand was supporting her back. Hisoka. The moment her brain said his name, his smiling face came into view.

"Relax," He said softly, but she knew it was an order. "The chemical has cooled down. There's not much damage, except to your shirt, if you count that." With a dramatic sigh, he added. "When I said you shouldn't use nen, I meant your nen ability. Not things like Ten and Ren. Don't disappoint me." Abruptly, he let go and disappeared in another blur of motion.

Hanako struggled to catch her breath, wide eyes searching for Tonpa. There. He was crouched down in the grass, trembling arms over his head. The now-unmoving tiger head lay dead at his side.

Don't disappoint me. Hisoka's words played over in her head as she looked for another target. Since so many examinees were dead or fatally injured by now, there were less beasts running around and more feasting on their prey. The sight, on such a large scale, was an awful one. She had researched the trials on previous exams but had never even heard of one this brutal. How had he even been allowed to do this? She wondered as she noticed Hisoka fighting the bigger beasts around in the distance, his bloodlust in a frenzy. Of course he was enjoying the cruel atmosphere.

Watching him playing with the beasts like that, however, made her itch for a proper fight too. With a burst of Ren, she ran towards the nearest target. A big snake with a long tongue swallowing the eyes of a dead examinee. As she got closer, it shifted its focus on to her, releasing its whip-like tongue at her. Dodging its first attack, she used Gyo to find a vital point. Its belly. The snake hissed at her as she drew closer, launching another attack. This time, she slashed away its tongue, leaving it defenseless. As the snake helplessly thrashed around, she flipped it over with a strong kick and drove the blade in its underside. A fountain of blue blood spIurted out of its wound as it hissed once more and twitched for the last time.

One more. Her wild eyes scanned the field, landing on a large ostrich with an unusually long neck, head bobbling as it ran around aimlessly. She ripped the knife out of the snake, wiping the blood on the tall blades of grass around. As she positioned the knife, however, an ear-splitting whistle echoes throughout the arena, catching the attention of all beasts. In a frenzied hurry, they all began dashing back towards the tower. In a minute, they were all inside, the metal bars back on. A few more seconds and the tower door slid back down as before.

Hanako sighed. Too bad.

"All survivors! Please gather around the tower. If you're still standing without major injuries, you will be permitted to move on to the next phase. You have thirty seconds."

Tonpa. She suddenly remembered once more and returned to where she had last seen him. As the examiner's loud count down assaulted her ears, she nudged his head with a foot. "Hey! Next round. Come on!"

Slowly, he turned his head up. "It's- it's o- o- over?"

"Yeah." She looked at him more closely. "You don't seem to be in much of a condition to try the next phase. You sure you wanna continue?"

The determination returning in his eyes, he stood back up, brushing away dust from his clothes with a hand. "I'm fine."

"Good for you."

Near the end of the countdown, the pair joined the small group waiting at the foot of the tower. "...Two, One, and... Zero!" The voice boomed. "Congratulations! The fifty-three remaining applicants, out of the original 239, have passed the first phase of the hunter exam. A total of eleven applicants have lost their lives while the rest 175 are too injured mentally and/or physically to continue."

Only eleven? She hadn't expected fifty-three applicants to be able to pass either. Maybe she had overestimated the examiner's penchant for sadism. Oh well.

"The buses for taking you to the next exam site will be here in a moment. In the meantime, please wait patiently. No fights allowed."

With a sigh, Hanako walked over to sit against the tower once more. A familiar rumbling greeted her and she smiled, just then realising how drenched in blood she was.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^

[head-hopping]

Years, part IX

What don’t talk to me okay. Previous chapters here. LOL

Madi don’t hate me anymore~

~~

Seven months later

The spring Carlotta arrived in Paris invariably altered to summer, then slipped quietly into fall. Her residency remained at the Mackintosh homestead, tucked securely within the guest room that at some point had gained a hint of her touch, the altered bedspread certainly not enough to claim a space, but she had become comfortable enough to make at least a little mark on her world.

It had taken time to reach that point, but even she took it as a step into the right direction.

That morning, after her arrival, had been a trying one. Carlotta could do nothing but thank whatever fortune she had left that Aisling actually approached her first, the young woman looking utterly contrite and ashamed for her lack of fortitude. That, naturally, stirred something within Carlotta, her own need to offer some measure of comfort, little though it had been. Though she held affection for her two nephews, Carlotta had actually tended Aisling after her birth, during the darkest hour of Colin and Erika’s then broken relationship. For Carlotta, those months with Aisling had been the only child-rearing she ever properly performed…

But that had not been the time for such thoughts.

“Aisling…” Carlotta had said, the weight on her unfeeling heart suddenly so heavy. She had taken the young woman’s hands in her own, squeezing tightly. “The only apology necessary is my own. I have…I have been tried, and there are many matters that came together to such a result.”

Aisling’s green eyes had expressed such trouble, looking between Carlotta’s own. “What matters could have brought about such a result?”

Carlotta had only smiled, as much as she could. “Matters that are of no consequence to a vibrant young lady as yourself. Do not carry them, Aisling. Please.”

“Alright…if you say so, Aunt Lotta.”

Though even then Carlotta could tell the cryptic nature of that conversation did not please Aisling at all, but nothing more of it need be said. Carlotta absolutely refused to pass that burden to the next generation, and if she could not have been rid of it with her own child, then she could certainly ensure Colin’s children never so much as heard a word of it.

Over the following weeks, Carlotta had been coaxed into the kitchen, as Erika was quite busy with nursing her youngest back to health. Carlotta found that she had not lost her touch for enjoyable meals, and the work with her hands became a means of forcing her mind off the past. Colin certainly appreciated it, as did Aisling and Elias, when the young man was around.

When Leonce finally awoke, Carlotta was finally able to meet him in more than just a few lines in an old letter. In fact, she took it upon herself to aid Erika now that the bearish mother could relax knowing her son would live through his ordeal. Through the nights, Carlotta would sit next to Leonce’s bed, quietly reading or stitching, fetching anything the boy needed if he woke in the night.

She could not help but notice, though, that Leonce was a bit younger than Lonzo, by more than a three years or so, and yet he’d gone off to join the navy, where he had earned wounds, and thus his illness that had not been fully taken care of by some mistake or another. He was a lively young man, though, even in his tired state. That smile no doubt looked quite fetching to all manner of young ladies, especially when in his uniform, even though he had been nothing but a cabin boy—or rather, in charge of the cabin boys, he made certain his aunt knew.

Perhaps it was the general atmosphere of the household that settled Carlotta in, or the sense of being useful that she in part craved, but a spark of her own life and livelihood budded tentatively within the Mackintosh household.

And during the summer, upon hearing of Carlotta’s residency in Paris, Fiona paid a surprise visit—though Carlotta suspected that Colin and Erika knew ahead of time. But to see her cousin flourishing with Thomas, her gentle nature actually nurtured and protected by a loving husband, this Carlotta nearly did not stand. And not in a negative, jealous, petty way—or so she told herself, but the emotion had been so fleeting that she could tell herself freely that it never happened at all—but seeing Fiona having bloomed into a beautiful wife and mother, it offered Carlotta yet another comfort to know that her family has escaped the hell that seemed to curse the DiRusso line.

Speaking of motherhood, though! Behind Thomas and Fiona trailed a sea of delicately redheaded children, six in all, all having come specifically for the purpose of meeting their aunt none have ever met.

It was…a bit overwhelming, to be perfectly honest, and the first night after their arrival, Carlotta wept quietly in her room, if only because it hurt to have the depth of her own heart touched back alive again. Like a jolt, a strike of lightning, Carlotta found it difficult to breathe, but her thanks for Fiona’s wonderful life could only be expressed with tears that no one saw.

Except, somehow, Erika saw. Somehow Erika saw a lot. Perhaps because such despair was familiar to the other woman. Except for a word, a gesture, in fresh cups of tea sitting on Carlotta’s nightstand before bed, the women tiptoed around one another, yet unable to break the strain of being strangers.

Carlotta had no intentions of going back to Italy, however, so they ought to have time for warming.

One sign of such? It arrived on Carlotta’s birthday, a day that has been of no real consequence to her for some years. A day that did not bother to remind of itself, save for the occasions when Carlotta happened to notice the date. But tonight upon her birthday, she found herself swept into an evening at the opera at the Palais Garnier. A place of beauty and talent, one once guided by her own hand.

As Carlotta ascended the steps, she gazed up at the face of the grand building, the gaslight lamps vividly illuminating the golden color in the evening darkness. Memory overtook her as soon as she stepped inside, of a lifetime ago while discussing business with patrons, dodging those who thought it their duty to run the little women, or at the very least run her off and give the managerial position back to a man. Late evenings of paperwork, or contending with the self-professed phantoms who at first cajoled to have their own way within these walls. One of whom married her cousin, and the other… Well, not even Erika was certain what might have happened to him. As her life pulled further and further from the opera house, so it did from him as well. However, Erika was almost certain that he discovered his own happiness, and with a dancer of all things.

In any case, as Carlotta approached the grand staircase, lit brightly for the evening event, she came to a stop in the middle of the noisy foyer, the slip of a smile somehow finding its way onto her expression. So much in her younger years revolved around this building…so much…

Her gaze dropped, turning to Erika, who stood close beside her, watching intently for any sign of another outburst of emotion. But Carlotta merely smiled a bit wider, reaching out to gently, and briefly, touch Erika’s arm.

“I am alright,” she assured the masked woman—a mask that blended into Erika’s skin color, helping her to blend without startle, as it was simply easier to venture out in this manner.

Erika smirked, a flicker of amused relief darting through her eyes. “Wonderful. I had hoped this would do you good, not harm.”

“Knowing that Elias will be playing this evening was more than enough incentive to chance the Garnier again.” Carlotta took a deep breath, seeming more at ease than she has in a long time. Edged, yes, and guarded, but willing to step out from behind those barricades more and more. Especially for tonight. “I must admit…I held some dread for stepping foot in here once more, but I am glad I did.”

Behind the pair of them, Colin slipped up, gently, and without thinking, touching both Erika and Carlotta at their backs, though his hand lingered only on Erika’s. His brows were raised as he leaned down a bit between them. “And how are we fairing this far?”

“Delightful,” Erika intoned with cheekiness. “But there is no need for both of us to hover like hens, Colin. You will suffocate Lotta and I.”

He scoffed. “Nonsense. I only wanted the privilege of escorting the two most lovely women here to our box. Ah—three,” he amended quickly as Aisling made some manner of strangled noise, appearing at his side and bumping into him.

“Da! Don’t be rude. Go on and say three. Aunt Lotta ought to be included in this lovely bunch.” And she grinned, winking at her aunt in a devilish manner that bespoke mightily of her mother.

“Oi, stop getting me into trouble!” Colin laughed, but sighed loudly. “Ach, it’s too late for that anyway. Shall we? Before I get let out into the cold?”

Twenty years ago doubtlessly Carlotta would have had a snappish remark without a thought, but now all she could muster was a closed smile, able to share in the amusement at least. Besides which, Erika’s comment sufficed, but Carlotta’s attention diverted suddenly as a slight chill touched her. She glanced back towards the front doors, suspecting that their loitering near the doors must have caught her in line with a gust of fall breeze floating inside. And that may have been part of the case, save for the thick shawl draped over her shoulders that had been more than adequate outside, let alone inside the warmed building.

Before she turned back to her family, however, she caught sight of someone peering in her direction as he stood closer to the opening and closing doors. Carlotta would have passed the man by, but the second jolt, this one accompanied by a surge of recognition, stole her breath.

Salvatore Barozzi, hand balanced perfectly on his cane, hat in hand, stared with naked shock in his expression as other patrons were forced to move around him in order to get inside. The looks they shot he obviously did not see, or even feel.

Not that Carlotta did much better. Colin and the rest might have left her behind, as she did not hear or see whether they called her.

What sort of alignment must have occurred to have them standing here tonight of all nights, in Paris, at the Garnier?