#And that takes a hot second to set in. She never is entirely fully settled about it either. Though she is VERY happy it irks her.

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

I think something we don't take into account when thinking about Katniss (that people who solely take into consideration the film may not like...)

Katniss doesn't seperate (romantic) love from being married and having kids. Like at all. When she considers romantic feelings, marriage and children are what she puts into the basket to weigh. Being in love means to be married to her, to have children. Thats why she rejects them, and why they scare her. She can't be in love without linking her life to that person, without the idea of marrying them or children. That is always part of it, for Katniss.

She never considers maybe casually dating Peeta OR Gale. If she explores these relationships romantically, to her that almost certeinly means she will be eventually marrying them. Having kids. And it's not like she doesn't know it's possible. She says herself she's heard other girls talking about relationships, ones of high schools. Most of these likely without even the mention of marriage, and certeinly not children. No it's just that she's linked them in her head because thats what it is to her as a person. That's what she chooses for it to mean to her.

But oh yes. This is the girlboss, the rebel leader who don't need no man (heavy eye roll implied there).

I think the interesting question is if there is a cause to think, what is it aside from Katniss just valueing that kind of steps in romantic relationships? Part of me thinks it is simply an extention of Katniss, while not always the most confident or sure at 16-17 years old does not do what she DOES choose half way. Once she is in, she is ALL in with everything she does and to me, that could contributes to this connection for her.

On top of, while it does unravel with the death of her father she grew up with what we see even through small glimpes is a extreamly happy and loving version of this kind of family and end goal for romantic relationships. What a loving marriage looks like, what loving parents and loved children look like.

And I would like to add because I see this painfully often. No. This is not sending some anti-feminist message...say it with me: Because Katniss CHOOSES this, and it directly is canonically shown to make her happy. There are also several other female characters with diverse goals and positions. Including leadership. Just, so we are all clear.

[ficthots]

The Way I Loved You

A/N: “The Way I Loved You” by Taylor Swift...that’s all. That’s the note. Okay and angst, break-ups, the whole thing. As always enjoy and let me know what you guys think!

Word Count: 6k+

He is sensible and so incredible And all my single friends are jealous He says everything I need to hear and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better

“Okay, I need all the details from this date,” You sipped your drink as your friends begged to hear the details of your latest fling. You had been seeing Alias for the last few weeks and it had been going well. Really well, actually.

He was a young tech hot shot that was one of the sweetest men you had ever known. Your best friend, Riley, had set you up on a date together, begging you to get back out on the dating scene. She claimed that four months was more than enough time to get over a complete heartbreak from the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

Riley had shown up at your door one night, seeing you curled up on your couch, telling her you were not in the mood to go out on the town like she swore would fix you.

“Honey, I am so tired of seeing you like this. I have a guy that I work with that I think you would be great with. I’m setting you up on a date with him,” you tried to argue back, but she took your hands in hers and broke the news in the gentlest way she possibly could. “Macy and I saw him out on a date,” you felt like you had swallowed a sandwich made entirely out of nails.

Of course he had gone out. You and Peter had been broken up for four months. You remembered how the girls in his classes looked at him and when he took that job at Oscorpe, how his coworkers eyed him. Peter had shifted into a guy of total confidence during college, letting some of his alter ego seep into him and it made him catnip for girls. You agreed to a date. One date.

Alias was a total gentleman and incredibly handsome. Your first date had been to dinner and a movie, totally cliche, but it was a lot of fun. He had taken you to one of his favorite places in Chinatown and you had one of the best meals of your life. The two of you were constantly laughing and he had picked out a great movie to see that resulted in you two holding hands for the entire second half of the screening. He walked you home, kissed you on the cheek, and said he had a wonderful time with you.

You agreed. It had been a great time and your thoughts only wandered to him two times. That was serious progress for you. Riley had called you that night and pleaded with you to tell her all about it, and you did. Your other close friend, Macy, had been conferenced in just a few minutes into the call, wanting to hear all about the night.

Only two days later he had shown up at your doorstep with flowers asking for another date. I mean, how could you say no to a personal flower delivery? Every date since has been great. He loved to shower you with compliments, he took you to places you had never seen in New York, and you were comfortable with him. Comfortable was good, right? You couldn’t ask for better because Alias was what every girl dreamt of.

On the fourth date you two slept together. It was lovely. Nothing spectacular or mind blowing, but it was good. You stayed the night at his place and woke up to him making you breakfast in bed, flower on the tray and all. Alias was great. He was great.

A month had flown by in the blink of an eye and you and your friends sat at the bar you loved to frequent together, all crammed into a tiny booth as they wanted to hear about the work event Alias had taken you to where he had introduced you to all of his coworkers and bosses.

You chewed on your straw, your face starting to warm as the attention fully settled on you. “It was great. Open bar, we got all dressed up, danced a bit. It was a sit down dinner so we were at a table with his bosses. Alias is up for a big promotion right now so it was more about good impressions. I didn’t really do a lot,” you shrugged, taking a long swig from your drink.

Riley’s eyes narrowed at you about to urge you to continue when Macy’s widened, shooting a worried glance to Riley. They quickly gathered their things, telling you it was time to go as you laughed at their sudden want to leave. “C’mon, we can go back to my place and continue this talk. It’s so crowded here and I can hardly hear you. I’m getting a headache, let’s go,” they started dragging you from the booth and when you looked to where you saw Macy shoot another brief look, you almost dropped your glass.

He looked as good as ever. He had thrown his head back, a loud laugh bellowing from him as he and a small group stood at the bar. His hair was messy, maybe he had just gotten off of patrol and met some friends for drinks. You saw Harry on his other side along with some friends from his classes that you used to hang out with.

You recalled the many nights spent in his apartment, everyone cramming for midterms, music playing, shared snacks and jokes about whatever you were all studying for. You hadn’t seen anyone since the breakup. Not because they didn’t try to reach out because they did, but because it was too much of a reminder of him. Too close for comfort as you took the time to get over it, but you felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that you had closed off to almost everyone you knew.

Harry caught sight of you first, his mouth falling slack. It quickly turned into a large smile as he pushed through the groups that crowded the space between you two. He called your name, snapping your attention to him as he approached you with his arms open. You smiled brightly at him. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in forever,” his arms wrapped around you, you returning the hug and laughing together as he pulled back, hands still on you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls or texts? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months,” a quick look of sadness took over his features and you shook your head, looking away from the blonde that you had been friends with since before high school, deciding that your shoes were of much more interest.

“Y’know. Just been busy,” Riley stepped in, lightly pushing Harry away. “We were just leaving,” you nodded your head as Harry’s face fell even more. “Wait, can you stay for just one more? He’d love to see you,” your eyes flew to Macy as she shook her head, pulling you back a bit.

“That’s not a good idea. Our Uber’s here, let’s go,” you quickly hugged Harry again, telling him that you’d call him this week to meet for dinner or something. As you walked out of the bar, Peter caught sight of you and his face morphed into one of shock and disbelief as your eyes met.

You quickly ducked your head down, letting your friends run you out as you heard Peter’s voice yelling your name out over the music and crowds. He was pushing through people, still shouting your name as you exited the building. He followed your group out of the bar and yelled out, asking you to just stop for a second to talk. You didn’t look back.

He respects my space And never makes me wait And he calls exactly when he says he will

You had been waiting for over two hours at the restaurant. It was yours and Peter’s anniversary and he was nowhere to be found. The waiter came back to the table with a small smile on her face as she poured more water into your glass, your meal finished long ago. “You know, I think I’ll just take the check, thanks,” she shook her head and leaned on the table. “It’s on me tonight. I am so sorry,” you shrugged her off. This was Peter’s thing. You knew what to expect, but even on important nights like this you still got your hopes up. You don’t know why you did it to yourself. It was a let down each time.  

You even knew that when Peter said dates start at five you knew you didn’t have to be ready until 6:30 at the earliest and even then most nights you were going to be early. It still didn’t take the sting away.

“All I’m saying is he must be a complete asshole if he stood you up,” you offered a small smile back, thanking her and sighed, checking your phone again. No missed calls or texts. The wind was whipping outside as you pulled your coat tighter around you, your leather gloves barely keeping your hands warm.

When you got back to your tiny apartment, you stepped in, glad to be welcomed by the warm embrace of the cozy space. You shrugged your coat off and glanced into your bedroom at the partially opened fire escape window.

You battled within yourself for a few seconds, trying to determine if you wanted to close it. It would send a message to Peter letting him know how hurt you were. That even on such important nights like this that you were still such a low priority to him that you sat at your favorite restaurant, completely embarrassed as you were stood up. Again. That he couldn’t carve out forty-five minutes for you. You weren’t as important to him as all his other responsibilities.

Moving to the window, you pulled it shut. A shaky breath of air released from you and you went to the living room, turning the tv on and putting on your comfort show, snuggling into a blanket. You must have dozed off because you woke up to knocking on your front door and you checked the clock on the stove.

It was just past midnight. You knew exactly who was at the door. You sighed, getting up and going to it, barely pulling it open. Peter held a bunch of crumpled flowers and a mangled card that looked like it had a tire track across the envelope. You didn’t smile back at him as he stared at you.

“Happy Anniversary, babe. I am so sorry about dinner, but I will make it up to you I promise. I know I normally come in through the window, but it was closed tonight,” you didn’t move to open the door any further to allow him to come in. Peter could see that you weren’t going to move and he sighed, dropping the flowers to his side.

“You’re mad at me and you have every right to be. It’s just that I had a work thing I had to do and then I needed to do a Spider thing and time got away from me,” your eyes narrowed at him, arms crossing over your chest.

“Peter, it’s our two year anniversary. You couldn’t even call me? Hell, I would’ve even sufficed with a text, but you couldn’t even do that,” his large doe eyes peered down at you, he was nervous. You could tell he was.

You pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes and sighed. “You can’t keep treating me like this, Peter. Like I am not a priority to you. It’s not fair to me. I sat at that damn restaurant for two and half hours like a fool. The waitress felt so bad for me that she comped my meal,” you leaned away from the door and grabbed his present off the entryway table.

You shoved it into his arms and you could feel the tears welling up, your throat going tight. “You couldn’t even get me a card that wasn’t dropped in the street. The flowers looked like you grabbed them from the garbage. Happy anniversary, Peter,” you could see that he was getting ready to say something, to jump to his own aid when you closed the door, locking it behind you.

Tears made their way down your face as you hiccuped. You turned the tv off and for the first time since you and Peter had started dating, closed the blinds to the window on your fire escape.

After your anniversary things only soured more. Peter had all but stopped responding to texts when he was busy, stood you up on more nights often than not, and when you were together you were only arguing.

You two stood on opposite ends of the living room as you tried to catch your breath, your throat hurting from the yelling you two had been doing for the last half an hour. Peter’s hands rubbed over his face and shrugged at you after a beat, a bitter laugh leaving him. “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what else I can do. I feel like you’re asking so much of me. I am stretched so thin and I am exhausted. This relationship feels like a chore more than anything,” your eyes snapped to his, as your breathing all but evened out.

As soon as the words left his mouth regret seeped through him. His eyes slipped shut and he was going to try and rethink what he spoke to you, but you beat him to it.

“Then it’s time for you to go,” you whispered out into the room. It hung between you both as you watched him. His eyes met yours and he shook his head, trying to backtrack what he had said. “No, that’s not what I meant,” you stepped back from him and held your hand up to keep him from coming forward anymore.

“You said it because you feel it, Peter. For the last few months I have felt like such a burden to you. When I ask you to call me, when I ask you to go to dinner with me, fuck even when I just want to see you. I hardly even get that anymore, Peter. You think I’m a chore to you and that’s fine, but I am not going to continue to be that for you. I will lighten your load and make your life much easier. I will make both our lives easier because I am tired of being hurt every single damn day with you. I do not deserve that,” you had tears running down your face, but you had spoken so evenly and calmly, it frightened him.

Peter ran his hands through his hair and hunched over, his hands going to his thighs. You looked at the door and back at the boy that you were madly in love with, but who didn’t feel the same way about you anymore. Your heart was shattering and he didn’t put up much of a fight. Like always.

“I need you to go,” he looked at you and nodded his head, tears rimming his eyes, a loud sniffle escaping from his throat as he moved to the door. He didn’t say anything else as he left. Even if he had put up even just the slightest fight to keep you, you more than likely would’ve given it another go. But he didn’t look back at you.

On the dot at 6:02 your phone rang, a large smile crossing your face as you saw Alias’ name pop up on the screen. “Hey, cutie,” his deep laugh came through the speaker at your pet name for him. “Hello, dear. I am on my way to your place right now and we will head out to get dinner, yeah?”

Your smile grew as you stood, already dressed and anxiously awaiting his arrival. “Yes, absolutely,” as you two hung up you knew he would only be a few minutes away from your apartment.

Alias was always on time. You don’t think there had ever been a time when you had waited for him. He called everyday when he was off work at 6:02. It was a nice routine that you had settled into. You weren’t sure why you felt off by it. Maybe even bored.

After another fantastic meal, you and Alias walked side by side, your hands melded together, laughing at a story he was sharing from his meeting he had earlier that day when you heard your name echoed out into the night. Your head turned, trying to place the voice.

It was Harry and Peter. You had met with Harry the following week after the bar run in and had sat and chatted. You told Harry that he was completely off limits for a chat topic and he followed through with that. You two had caught up and it had been great to see him. It was like old times again.

Harry and Peter crossed the street to get you two, your hand holding Alias’ suddenly felt like it was profusely sweating. Alias had a large smile, showcasing his perfect teeth as he saw the two men before him. “Hey Harry,” he took you into a side hug and you didn’t know what to say as Peter had a scowl taking over his normally soft features.

Alias cleared his throat and you jumped at the sound, an awkward laugh bubbling from you. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Harry, this is Alias, my boyfriend. Alias this is a close friend of mine, Harry,” they both shook hands, saying how it was nice to meet each other and Harry glanced at Peter.

You didn’t take the time to introduce them, offering an excuse saying you needed to get home, that you had an early morning for work the next day, but that you’d text Harry later. Peter stayed rooted to his spot, watching as you and Alias walked away, the angry look only going deeper.

The last thing you heard as you two walked away was his voice, dripping with pure agony that you had only heard a couple other times since you had known him. “She has a boyfriend, Harry,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as Alias picked up his story again, but you weren’t listening. You turned and looked to see Harry patting Peter’s shoulder as he spoke softly to him.

Yours and Peter’s eyes locked, the look of pure anguish taking over him as he saw Alias place his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, getting your attention away from the two boys.

You didn’t look back again.

He can't see the smile I'm faking And my heart's not breaking 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

The glass was sweating in the summer heat. Your gaze was focused on the two beads of water racing down the side of the glass, seeing who would reach the white tablecloth first. You could feel your own sweat drip down your neck.

It was almost a hundred degrees out and you and Alias were out for brunch on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. When he cleared his throat, gathering your attention back to him, you plastered a smile on your face.

“Are you feeling okay? It’s really warm and I want to make sure you don’t have heat exhaustion or anything,” that dazzling smile that showcased his picture perfect teeth had you laughing, shaking yourself out of the haze you had put yourself in. “Oh me? I’m totally fine. I just zoned out for a second, sorry. What were you saying?”

His smile softened as he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “You’re bored, aren’t you?” Your brows furrowed and you were about to protest, claiming his story was interesting, but you had just eaten a big meal and were feeling sleepy, but he chuckled and grabbed your hand from across the table.

“I mean with us. You don’t feel a spark with us, do you?” You were taken aback, fumbling to find the words to claim otherwise, but as you stumbled over your thoughts you knew he was right.

You were bored. You didn’t feel anything extraordinary with him. He was the sweetest man you had ever been with. He cared about you tremendously and treated you like a queen, but you had fallen into a pattern so quickly and you found yourself wanting more. Missing more.

You squinted at him, guilt taking over your entire being. “Alias, you are wonderful. Honestly, everyone is so jealous that I even got a date with you. I just-I don’t know. I feel like there’s something missing, y’know?” His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand, squeezing gently and nodding his head.

“I do. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that something more for you,” you shook your head and laughed, leaning forward and making eye contact with him. “God, please don’t apologize. You will be that something for someone. I’m sorry that it wasn’t me,” he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

Alias walked you home that morning, giving you a long hug before saying his goodbyes. When you stepped back into your apartment, you groaned, shrinking against the door and moving to sit on the floor.

“Riley’s gonna kill me.”

And you were wild and crazy Just so frustrating Intoxicating, complicated Got away by some mistake and now

Your arms and legs were wrapped around him as he propelled you both through the air, laughs bouncing off the surrounding buildings as you clung to him for dear life, eyes squeezed shut.

“Open your eyes, babe!” You could feel his grip on you was as tight as ever, but when you opened your eyes and realized you were on the top of a massive skyscraper, your breath caught in your throat.

You were piggybacking on Peter, he had webbed your hands and feet together, just in case he said, but he kept one hand wrapped under your thigh, a comforting touch to ensure he was there and he wouldn’t let anything happen to you two. He undid the webs, gently setting you down as you overlooked all of New York from where you two were perched.

“You do this every night?” You whispered out to him, almost afraid that if you spoke louder it would carry through the entire city and everyone would hear. He pulled you into him, the material of his suit rubbed against your skin as you looked at the buildings that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

You sat between his legs as you looked around in awe. You weren’t sure when he had pulled the mask off, but you felt his lips gently land on your cheek and your face warmed. You two sat like that for over an hour, watching as lights turned on and off, cars went by, people watching together and Peter’s embrace keeping you warm.

After a while he reluctantly sighed and checked your phone to see the time. “I need to get you home. You have an early class,” your eyes closed, leaning back against him, just wanting to savor the moment, but you gave in, standing with him as he crouched in front of you.

You hopped onto his back, he webbed you to him again, and he let out a low laugh. “Oh you’re so gonna hate me after this,” your eyes widened, repeatedly asking him why as he took a running start off the building, your screams carried through the air as he dove face first, your grip on him somehow getting tighter like that was at all possible at the free falling motion, your stomach going into your throat.

Within a split second, he pulled you two back up, letting you catch your breath before flipping you both through the New York air. After a beat, you weren’t scared anymore, letting your laughter mix with his as he swung you home, even asking him to flip you again, getting more comfortable with the movements. Peter Parker fell in love with you that night.

You weren’t too far behind, falling head over heels for him on a random Thursday night. In fact, it was only two weeks later when it hit you. It had been a particularly shitty day and all you wanted to do was get home and curl into bed and let the world continue on as you slept for the next fourteen hours straight.

Instead, when you got home there was music shaking the walls, the smell of cooking wafting through your house, and the sound of something sizzling in a pan in your kitchen. As you peeked around the corner, Peter stood at the stove with your apron tied around his waist and he was dancing along to the song blaring through the speakers.

Your first smile of the day took shape as you watched him as his voice called out to you in between him belting the lyrics. “You know I heard you come in, bug,” his entire being looked as relaxed as possible as he made his way over to you. His hands pulled you to him, planting a huge kiss on you.

He moved to take your coat off, seeing you were wearing one of his cardigans underneath. “I’m sorry, I borrowed it this morning. It was freezing and I just grabbed it-” he cut you off, placing a kiss on your forehead, a shrug rolling off of him. “It looks much better on you, honey. All my clothes do,” he pointed to the barstool and you took a seat, a sigh releasing from you as you were finally off your feet for the first time since you had woken up that morning, kicking off your shoes with a groan.

You peered around the boy, catching sight of what had been cooking in the pan and when you spotted your favorite meal you could have bursted into tears right then and there. Peter picked back up with his song, singing it horribly off key as he set a full glass of wine in front of you, turning back to the pan and continuing with his task.

The worries of your day and of what tomorrow would hold melted away as you and Peter talked about your respective days at work and why your day had been as horrible as it had. “And then he yelled at me, Peter. In front of everyone at the meeting. All because I had sat in the wrong seat at the conference table. It was so embarrassing,” you shoved a forkful of food into your mouth after finishing, Peter leaned on the counter next to you, eyebrows furrowed. “I can have a very close friend of mine pay him a visit. The not-so-friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” you smirked as you sipped more from your glass.

“He doesn’t come out often, but I bet he would be more than glad to do that for you,” he winked as he finished his food, moving his plate into the sink. You shook your head, finishing what was left on your plate and downing your wine. “Well, tell him I said thank you, but I need to keep this job and I have a feeling that he would most likely get me fired,” Peter grabbed your plate and chuckled.

He moved around the counter and wrapped his arms around you from behind, letting you swivel the stool to face him, miming his movements and burying your head into his chest. “Thank you for dinner, Petey. I really needed this,” his hands rubbed up and down your back, placing a quick peck to the crown of your head.

“Anything for you, bug. Let’s go lay in bed and watch tv, yeah?” You nodded and monitored his movements as he crouched down in front of you. You snickered as you hopped onto his back, feeling his hands land under your thighs as he stood up. He lightly adjusted you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs tightly around his waist as he ran around your apartment, jumping onto the walls and crawling around as your laughter mixed with his, tears streaming down your face.

You two had settled down, laying in bed together, Peter completely underneath you as you laid flush on him. You glanced at the boy who was quickly dozing off and felt an unfamiliar feeling worm its way inside you. The realization dawned on you as his breathing evened out, hands going still on your back, that you were in love with him. Completely and hopelessly in love with him.

You weren’t sure that the feeling ever went away, even after everything.

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain It's 2AM and I'm cursing your name I'm so in love that I acted insane And that's the way I loved you Breaking down and coming undone It's a roller coaster kind of rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you

It had been miserable in New York the last few days, reaching incredibly high temperatures, but to your sweet relief a storm had blown in earlier that evening, putting a chill in the air as the rain poured down.

You sat on your couch, watching The Devil Wears Prada for the millionth time when you heard knocking at your door. Checking your phone you noticed it was almost two in the morning. You hesitantly looked at the door and scanned your surroundings, trying to figure out what you could use as a weapon.

With your candle holder in hand, you slowly made your way to your door, moving as quietly as you could. You peered out the peephole and saw no one there. Contemplating if you should open it, you decided that it would be okay. You had a hefty weapon that you could do some real damage with if need be.  

You slowly opened the door and saw that it was totally empty, but heard the entrance door to the building close, signaling someone had in fact been knocking. You rushed over to the window and saw him walking away from your building, being drenched by the rain.

You opened the window, yelling out to be heard over the storm. “Peter!” He immediately stopped and turned, looking up at the window. “Hold on!”

Slamming it shut, you slipped your shoes on and ran down to where he stood in the street. When you came face to face with him, you could see that he was battling within himself as you stood in front of him, alone, for the first time in almost six months.

“You don’t have a jacket on. Here,” he removed his, putting it over your shoulders as you let your arms go into the sopping wet fabric. He instantly got soaked, his hair falling into his face as he used a hand to push it back, water falling off the slope of his nose.

His smell encompassed you and it felt like everything you knew, making your stomach erupt with butterflies as he filled your senses. Neither of you said anything as he held his gaze on you, scanning your figure.

“Peter, why are you here? Is everything okay?” His stare was intense, eyes dark and swimming with his thoughts and you saw how his jaw clenched at the question. “You won’t see me or talk to me,” you eyed him, only offering a shrug. “We broke up. When that happens people typically stop talking. I needed time to get over us. You. If I kept-” he cut you off, looking borderline distraught as he spoke over you.

“You broke up with him,” you stood rooted to your spot, getting pissed off at his words. “How do you know that?” He didn’t falter or hesitate as he answered.

“I saw it,” you took a step towards him, arms folding over your chest as your voice raised. “You’ve been watching me? Are you shitting me, Peter? Who was stalking me? You or Spider-Boy?” His nostrils flared at the nickname that he utterly despised.

“Doesn’t matter,” you scoffed, breaking your gaze from his, laughing as you grew more agitated. “It absolutely fucking does. What gives you the right, Peter?” Your voice raised even more, almost to the point of screaming at him.

“I love you, damn it! I fucking love you!” His tone matched yours, levels of anger and irritation matching each other. Your eyes widened, shaking your head, your wet hair slapping your cheeks at the movement. “I fucked up letting you go. I said the stupidest fucking things I could have ever said to you that night and it absolutely wrecked me. I have been a goddamn mess. I feel like I’ve been losing my mind!” His hands ran through his soaked locks, pulling at the strands as he continued yelling.

Your head didn’t stop shaking, a chorus of no’s mingling with his words as you watched him, tears stinging your eyes. He moved closer, almost flush with you.

“I treated you like shit. I hadn’t slept in two days, I was stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse and I will never be able to apologize enough for it. I can’t forgive myself for what I said to you, but I didn’t mean a single fucking word. I love you. Bug, I love you so much. I am so sorry. I will never be able to apologize enough to you,” you took a step back from him as his tone grew more desperate, pain seeping into each syllable, fighting tears as he talked.

“I just need to know if you love me. If you tell me that you hate me and that you want me to leave you alone, I swear I will. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t deal with me again. But I need to know if you love me. Do you love me?” He was crying at the end, stumbling over his words.

Your eyes snapped up to his as his breathing grew more labored as each word left his mouth, stabbing you the more he said. You couldn’t believe what he was telling you and you didn’t want to hold anything in anymore, knowing this was your chance to get it all off your chest.

“You fucked everything up, Peter! Alias was amazing. He-he called me every single day. He never missed a date. Everyone was jealous of me for landing him! But you know what the worst fucking part is?” You were yelling through the tears, trying to catch your breath as pain flashed across Peter’s face.

“He wasn’t you. Every time I was with him all I could think of was you. I felt absolutely nothing with him because he wasn’t you. He was everything you were supposed to be that you weren’t, but it didn’t fucking matter because he isn’t half of what you are and I fucking hate you for that,” Peter’s hands landed on either side of your jaw as he pulled you to him, lips crashing together.

It was ugly and filled with hatred as your teeth clashed, trying to taste everything you had missed. When you pulled away first, his grip didn’t loosen. Your breath mingled together, stuttering as his forehead rested on yours.

“One more chance. Please? I need one more chance,” you fought within yourself, trying to decide as quickly as possible, sort out all the feelings you had been saddled with during the aftermath of the worst time of your life. It all came down to the fact that you missed him. You so desperately missed him.

Your eyes opened, seeing his cedar, impenetrable look dance over your face, trying to determine your answer before you did. You sucked in a deep breath as you nodded your head, feeling the rain drip down your nose as you met his look.

“One more chance.”

[baby-girl-e]

Cruel Summer part 1

Characters - Rooster x f!Reader, Penny 

Summary - You finally break out of your suffocating small town, and find your next adventure in a certain fighter pilot

Word Count - 1.5k

Warnings - fluff, serious conversations, unspecified trauma

A/N - This is my first fic in a VERY long time, so please be kind. This chapter is a bit slow, but I needed to set up the story well enough. Another thing I should mention, the reader is very much based on myself, and my own life experiences so if something isn’t super relatable I’m really glad tbh!

Growing up in a small town where everyone knew everyone was both helpful, and extremely unhelpful. For example, you left your garage door open? Someone is there to close if for you. However, if you mess up even a little bit? Everyone also knows. Just graduating from high school you couldn't afford much more than to go to the local college and live at home. There's no shame in it, truly, you just always felt like you were destined for more than a psychology degree and a minor in dance. The only reason you didn't major in dance was because you wanted to be a dancer. Not just teach it. You had danced from ages 3 to 15 in a studio before you made the high school team and captained it your senior year. Through your four years of college you danced on the college team and competed in cities across the country, and the occasional trip to dance in a few festivals across Europe. This was your only escape from the mind numbingly simple life you lead at home. So after graduation when you were given the opportunity to be a regular performer at some touristy restaurant in San Diego, you took it without a second thought. 

That's what brought you here, the Hard Deck bar, stuck in the doorway unable to fully enter. You’d never truly spent much time in a bar back home, sheltered and squashed by your parents' religious views and the general lack of bars in your area. You rub your hands on your jean shorts and force  yourself to take a step in. You were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people there, but you pushed further in and made a b-line for an open chair at the bar near a window. Once you had sat down you made quick work of finding your exits and sussing out any imminent threats, a habit you have yet to kick from a particularly traumatic experience. After you had done a good 360 degree look about, you started to settle. All too soon a woman from behind the bar approached you. “What can I get you hun?” she seemed nice and approachable, so you decided to enlist her help on what you should do. “I've uh… never actually been to a bar before? What do you recommend?” she let out an amused laugh and smiled at you. “I'll get you a light beer to start and we can go from there yeah?” you nod your appreciation and hope for the best. When she returns to the bar she introduces herself as a woman named Penny. “Nice to meet you Penny, i’m Y/N.” Penny shakes your hand, “you’re not from around here are you?” You feel your cheeks start to heat up, not just from the hot California sun somehow making its way into the bar. “Is it that obvious?” she just laughs at you before leaning in close. “I”ll let you in on a little secret, most of the people here are Navy pilots or somehow related to one. And I'm almost certain that it's a requirement to drink over there.” you suppose that’s good to know, given that you’ve already seen more Navy men and women then you have civilians. You figured that moving somewhere nicknamed ‘Fightertown USA’ wouldn’t be too bad to get used to given the fact that you lived a mere 30 minutes from a major Air Force base back home. You are starting to discover huge differences between the two military branches. You’re thrown back to the present when you hear loud laughing and talking coming from the entrance. “Speak of the devil, here comes some of the best ones. Good luck Y/N.” You weren't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean but you figured you were going to find out sooner or later. 

Later came incredibly fast as a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt approached you. You were immediately overwhelmed once more, but this time it was just him at fault. He was easily one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, but it was his confident but goofy energy you immediately picked up on. “Haven’t seen you around here before, you new here?” wow, you needed to check up on what kind of vibe you were giving off, that's two now. “Yeah, I’m doing a bang up job of hiding it huh?” he laughs into his beer and nods. “Well in all honesty you don’t truly want to fit in here.” you look at him quizzically and he clarifies. “We navy folk are a bit of an odd bunch. Having the most dangerous job in the world means you have to be an idiot to do it voluntarily. So,” he gestures to the rest of the rowdy crowd, “here are your idiots.” you laugh a good hearty laugh you hadn’t heard from yourself in years. 

You glance at the ‘idiots’ he mentioned and couldn’t help but smile. They seemed carefree and happy, even with the looming threat of death on them every time they go to work. “I don’t know, maybe less idiotic and more… sure of themselves. Nobody who is unsure of themselves risks their life for someone else's.” He’s taken back by your response, expecting you to agree with him. “What's your name miss confidence?” Outside of the stage you have never been described as confident, but this man seems to have other plans for you. “I’m Y/N. What's your name, Navy guy?”  He introduces himself as 'Rooster’ but quickly back tracks at your confused look. “That’s my callsign, sorry force of habit. My real name is Bradley.” Most Bradley's you knew went by brad, and totally acted like it. This one? He seemed very un “brad” like. “Well it's very nice to meet you, Rooster.” 

“So, what brings you out here miss Y/N?” You almost missed his question, distracted by his mustache. You were really hoping to see what it felt like against your lips at some point. “I’m here for work. I’m a dancer at that new restaurant downtown.” his eyes bulge slightly, not expecting to hear that. “Oh, the ‘WaterFront’? I had no idea it was a dinner and a show type of thing.” you nod, the place hadn’t had their first show yet, just dinner for the time being. “Yeah we haven’t had our big opening show yet, that’s next week.” You chat for a while about your show, and your past. It felt extremely easy to talk to this man, conversation flowing easily between you. He told you a little bit about why he was here, and his past.  You learned he had just finished a mission that almost claimed both his and his captain's life. 

“That's terrifying Rooster. Does that happen a lot???” You have no idea how this man goes to work everyday, knowing that it could be his last. “I guess that depends, we aren’t going on crazy dangerous missions everyday. However, just getting into a jet is risky. Anything could go wrong.” you never thought of it that way. You always assumed that they were always fighting something. He senses your unease and shifts a little closer. “What about you Y/N? Any crazy adventures?” The subject change is welcomed, but you wish it had been any other subject. “I don't know, nothing quite compares to being a fighter pilot. He just shakes his head and puts on what looks like a pained but genuine smile. “Honestly, the times in my life that I have been the most scared, were the ones on solid ground. Everyone is entitled to be scared, whether that's dodging bullets in the sky or driving down the road. Scary is scary.” It made you a little sad to think how this man had become so wise in what seemed to be his young life. He seemed so emotionally mature for his age, it was refreshing. “Well, I moved here from my small sheltered town. I have traveled before, but I’m just now getting to make my own decisions outside of my parents. I’m searching for who I really am and that's just petrifying.” Roosters' eyes never leave yours for a second while you speak. He seems mesmerized by what you’re telling him. His expression changes as you finish into one that can only read trouble. “How would you feel about doing some soul searching? I know a place, if you trust me.” You had only met this man maybe an hour ago, but you feel like you could trust him with your life. Alarms are going off in your head as you scoot closer to him and say, “Absolutely.” 

[party-gilmore]

This is still just a half formed thought but @pebblesrus got me thinking bout The Pool Scene and Eliot viewing his body/safety as something to physically exchange for that of others, combined with the commentary about how Eliot was counting the seconds Hardison was without air, like

There's still the thrum of angry tension stretching out from Hardison between them through the night, during Flores's call, on the way in and through the airport... Eliot isn't avoiding Hardison's angry gaze, but he's not seeking it out either. It burns under his skin, a hot coil of discomfort and the sinking sensation of having ruined something unless he manages to make things even.

At some point midflight, Hardison gets up to pace near the bar (because it might have been last minute, but he's NOT gonna make the team fly coach - even though he's still upset with Eliot and may have thought about it for a minute). Eliot follows a few seconds later and catches Hardison on the way back, quickly shoving him into the small lavatory and locking the door behind them.

"Man! What the hell! If you don't get your hands off me, I-"

"One minute, nineteen seconds." Hardison stops flailing against Eliot's grip around his wrists and just... stares, incredulous.

"...what?"

"You were without air for one minute, nineteen seconds."

"...you were counting." It feels a little like a question, although it isn't. Not really. Eliot's grim expression softens often imperceptibly. Hardison would've missed it if they weren't crammed so tightly in the small bathroom. Eliot answers the non-question anyway, voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"Course I was."

Hardison tumbles that around in his head for a bit. Of course Eliot was counting. Probably to know when it was too dangerous anymore to stay in character. Hardison knows how important it was to gain Moreau's trust at the time. In his head, he knows that. Knew it, even then. He was just... so afraid, at almost drowning, and angry at the secrets Eliot was keeping... but he was counting. He would've gone in for him, if he needed. Blown the whole damn thing.

Yeah the situation just sucked all the way around, sure, and yeah Alec's still a little pissed - why wouldn't he be! He's got the right! - but Eliot was counting. That means even though he'd had to put Hardison's life at risk, he was willing to risk even more - his own safety, the entire con - to pull him back out if needed. That was something, right? That was still-

-Hardison's too busy turning the pieces around in his own head to notice Eliot shifting his grip from Hardison's wrists to his hands. Tugging them closer. Pulling them up.

Alec snaps back to the present when his fingertips graze the warm, flushed skin of Eliot's neck.

"What-"

"One minute, nineteen seconds." Eliot suddenly presses Hardison's hands tight around his throat, guiding his thumbs to the appropriate hollows beneath his jaw.

"You... you can't be fucking serious!"

He tries to pull away, but Eliot's grip holds fast.

"Damnit Hardison," his growl comes rough, grating, as he puts pressure on his own windpipe through Hardison's palm. "You were right! Okay? I risked your life. For one minute and nineteen seconds. So that's what you get. Just... just do it, man! Get it over with, then we're even!"

"Even-... man, do you not realize how fucked up this is? I'm not... I'm not doing this!"

With a growl, Eliot tears his hands away from Hardison's, and Alec snatches his newly freed palms back to his chest. Eliot clearly wants to pace, but can't in the cramped room, so he settles with carding his fingers through his hair.

"Then what the fuck else do you want from me, man!" His voice already sounds ragged, even with how short of a time Hardison (or rather, Eliot by way of Hardison) was pressing around his throat.

"I just wanted you to be honest with us! With me!" Hardison slumps back against the far wall, anxiously rubbing his jaw as he tries to find the words. "Alright, look, I get it, what you had to do at the pool. I do. That doesn't mean my being upset about it is just gonna... go away!"

"I know that!"

Hardison flinches as Eliot slams his fist against the side wall. He knows the strike wasn't meant to be pointedly 'at' him, that in such a small space there's not a whole lot of room to safely lash out in when feeling cornered, but it was still too close to him for comfort. Eliot clocks the flinch, and for a moment the frustration on his face morphs into a clear expression of the guilt he's been masking since the pool.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't... fuck, I'm sorry," he pulls away, shrinking in on himself like he does on the grift, trying to consciously make himself seem smaller. "I just... I just don't want to have ruined us, man. Whatever is we've got... you and me, this team... I just wanna fix what I broke. I want us to be good."

"We are good, man," Hardison cautiously steps forward. He thinks to put a hand on Eliot's shoulder, but that's too close to his throat at the moment, so he goes for the outside of his arm instead. "You don't gotta... let me hurt you to make things even. That's... I don't know where the hell you learned that, but I don't like it. I'm not gonna do it. You just... you just gotta let me feel my feelings for a bit, okay? We'll get Moreau, and that'll feel fucking great, and have a little party, and everything will be fine. "

Eliot looks up at him and the ragged, raw desperation in his gaze about knocks Hardison back against the wall.

"...that's it?" Eliot's almost laughing, with a dry sarcastic bite behind his tone that makes him sound unhinged... well, more unhinged than usual. Although, he did just ask Hardison to choke him, so Alec figures we're not exactly working with the usual state of mind here.

"It's that easy, huh? You just... say we're good, and we're good?"

"Uh, yeah." Hardison shakes his head, tightening and loosening his grip on Eliot's arm in what he hopes is a soothing pattern. "That's how normal feelings work when somebody you care about pisses you off. You talk your shit out, it hurts for a bit while it heals up, then you're good. I don't know who fucking taught you you had to pay for-"

Oh. Oh but then it hits him. The dots finish connecting and he's looking down at Eliot, who's been strung tight and volatile as a clumsily stripped live wire ever since they closed in on Moreau, and in that moment Alec knows who taught him that.

He steps in close, carefully taking the back of Eliot's neck in a gentle grip, and ducks slightly to even out their gazes. Eliot’s whole body is tensed so hard he's almost shaking with it, but his eyes start to lose their sharp edge with Hardison's easy hold.

"I need you to hear me, Eliot. If I say we're good? Then we're good. No strings attached, no games, no doing any 'favors' for me first to prove any kind of loyalty or whatever. You know I don't play that shit. Yeah? You hearing me, man?"

Eliot's body starts to lose a bit of it's tension. A hesitant nod starts, but stops early. Hardison's seen Parker do that before, when she's too nervous to fully commit to a new idea even if she wants to, so he softens his tone and backs up a bit like he does with her.

"You hear me, babe?"

"I hear you," the reply is soft, almost embarrassed, and Eliot's eyes dart away. Hardison let's him go, indulging the gruff 'pretending to shake off the touch' Eliot does a second too late to be any kind of believable, and respectfully ignores the clearing of his throat and wiping at his eyes.

"We, uh..." Eliot turns to the door, fidgeting with the handle for a moment. "So, we'll talk. In San Lorenzo. When it's done?"

"When it's done."

Affirmation granted, Eliot darts out of the room. Hardison takes a few more minutes. Washes his face. Processes all the data thrown at him in the past few minutes as much as he can before filing it away for later. For 'when it's done.'

BONUS:

I feel like later, when they have their actual talk and Moreau is dealt with and both parties are a little more calm about it, Eliot is still like okay, I hear you, I understand that you don't need this to feel like we're square... but I do. Please.

And this time, knowing a little more of the whole story, Hardison is more comfortable accepting that like you know what, okay. If this is what you need, now that we've talked it out in a much less charged scenario and I can trust that you're in (more of) your right mind about this, okay. So long as you know I don't need this, that this is for you, and that if you need to stop early you swear you'll tell me.

Eliot probably rolls his eyes a bit at that like c'mon not even a full two minutes of getting choked out? He's had to go [absurd amount of time] without air in [equally absurd situation] in [obscure country], he'll be fine.

So Hardison sets a timer, and gently presses Eliot up against a wall, hands wrapping round his throat, Eliot's hands around his wrists - the deal is that he holds on for as long as he's good, if he let's go then so does Hardison - and he starts pressing in.

The whole scene is far softer and more intimate than either of them expected. They keep crazy intense but somehow still gentle eye contact almost the entire way through - the only exception being when Eliot's eyelids start to flutter a bit near the end, his grip loosening but not letting go - and when the time's up Eliot almost doesn't want Hardison to let go. He didn't even know that was a Thing for him. It had never been like that before, and like he said it's hardly his first time being choked... but something about trusting Hardison with that level of control... it makes him realize he maybe likes it a little too much. Putting his actual life in Hardison's hands in such a very physical, tangible way.

It kind of scares him, to be honest, how easily he'd be willing to let him do it again. And thinking about Hardison always leads to thinking about Parker, and thinking about Parker always leads to thinking about Parker's hands, and he realizes that he'd even trust "I hang off buildings by my fingertips" hand strength Parker to do it too... maybe even gets excited at the idea of it...

...and realizes he's well and truly screwed.

[yoonpobs]

Omg requests are open AAAHHH

may i request an oblivious oc and tsundere yoongi who likes holding oc's hands and idk like maybe oc thinks it's bc his hands are cold and his friends make fun of him and oc only realizes yoongi likes her when they spill his secret

as a yoongi stan, this is my guilty pleasure and this absolutely KILLED ME ily for asking this 🤣and double update today???? who am I????? 

hope you enjoy this v fluffy and v yoongi piece <3

pairing: tsundere!yoongi x oblivious&clumsy!oc

genre: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF

warnings: lots of squealing into ur pillow moments. taehyung, jimin & jin being the saviours tbh

words: 3, 136

Yoongi is staring at you like you spilt milk over his favourite pair of sneakers and you have no idea what to make of it.

“Uh …” You drag, blinking up at him with wide eyes when all he does is level you with a blank stare.

You can hear the distinct chatter of your friends in the background, likely already having their go skating around the rink. They always left you and Yoongi alone, for whatever reason it may be. But you weren’t complaining, you wanted to give him your gift in private!

But when Yoongi only stares at the mass of knit in your palms as you hold it out to him, you can only feel your ears flush an embarrassing shade of red at the subtle gesture of rejection. 

Yoongi was by no means a malicious person, but he was very clear-cut. He was straightforward and it was definitely one of his qualities that you admired the most about him. His ability to mitigate any situation, or look at things objectively was something that you struggled with for the most part of your life. Which is why some people would mistake him for cold or uncaring, but you knew better. 

“Do you … do you not like it?” You ask meekly, eyes darting everywhere but his as they continue to stare you down.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs your hands with his larger palm where your gift lays and observes it, scrutinises it as if he’s there to pick apart any stray strand of yarn. His hand, despite his exterior, is soft and gentle when he holds you; and your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds when he traces a thumb over your knuckles.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Your eyes dart down to your hands and somehow you find them in a familiar position. His fingers intertwined with yours and his palm engulfing yours entirely.

“T-Then why don’t you—” You try to pull away, making an effort to dangle your hand-woven mittens in front of him in hopes of attracting his appeal towards it.

But he doesn’t even bat an eye, just sighs and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I’m holding your hand.” He says pointedly, shooting you a serious stare.

You stutter for a response, and despite the chill in the air you hope he can allude to the redness of your cheeks a result of the wind that blows past you and not the flustered state you find yourself in when he tugs your body closer to his.

You suppose you found a bad spot to give him the mittens because you nearly stumble into his chest at how wobbly you are on skates. You planned his gift for weeks, fully aware that your group of friends was intending on coming to ice-skate. 

“I’m really bad at ice-skating. I’ll just slow you down.” You huff with a frown, still attempting to tug your hand away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I literally don’t care.”

You gape at his bluntness and scowl when he only offers you a lazy smirk. His hand is still tightly wrapped around your own, and you sigh, knowing that it was hopeless to fight against Yoongi when he was far stronger than you were.

“I can skate with Tae or something, he and I are pretty much—“

“No.” Yoongi blinks.

You splutter, “E-Excuse—?”

He snatches the mittens from your other hand and shoves them into his pocket. The action is so quick that you can barely register the way Yoongi is tugging your forehead as you flounder on your feet, already feeling unstable at the way the ice is set on making you fall.

But Yoongi is there like he always is, and he rests a gentle palm on your waist and shoots you a rare and soft smile that makes your heart weak.

“I’ll teach you.” He says it like it’s obvious, “Just hold my hand.”

“Yoongi, I really don’t think—” You weakly protest when he pulls you closer until you’re nestled comfortably by his side, his face set forward as he blatantly ignores you.

“Stop being so stubborn and hold on tight.” He scolds, squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers loosen its grip.

You pout, your other hand patting your cheek in hopes of easing the burning of your cheeks.

.

Lest to say, you are horrid at ice-skating and you wished you stayed home.

Your two left feet was probably the least interesting thing about you, yet it was the one thing that left a lasting impression on the people you’ve met. Whether it be because you tripped up a flight of stairs as you rushed to your next lecture, or if you accidentally torpedoed into a bush while you were attempting to penny

“How are you even real?” He huffs, fingers intertwined tightly with your own. You’re grateful he has a lethal grip on you because you don’t think you’re ready to be doused in ice, even if it was at your own accord.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, hand still clasped with his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go, even if you’re stable on your feet. He never does. He only holds your hand tighter, grumbling something about your clumsiness as he uses his spare hand to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulders. When he shoots you a look, you feel very much like a scolded child as you pout up at his narrowed eyes.

“What would you do if I wasn’t holding your hand, huh?” He laments, eyes rolling while he tugs you towards the direction of your friends who have somehow all gathered at the corner of the rink.

You stare at your feet, tittering to keep up with his long strides as he keeps the hold on your hand firm. 

“Look, I don’t ask to be swept away—!” You retort petulantly, but Yoongi completely ignores you as he squeezes your hand in response, right as he stops in front of your friends.

You’re still sulking when Yoongi doesn’t let go, shooting you a look that has you pursing your lips shut. 

“Lovely for the two of you to join us,” Jimin snorts.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you miss the lethal glare he shoots at your mutual friend.

“I’m sorry that my skating skills can’t keep up with you,” You huff.

You see Jin’s eyes dart down to your intertwined hands, before looking up; a knowing smirk on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Seems like Yoongi has it all settled.” He snickers, nudging Jimin by the side.

You can feel Yoongi roll his eyes next to you, even if you pout at Jin’s words.

“At this rate, I think you’re basically joined by the hands,” Jimin says smugly.

You blink.

“She’ll fall,” Yoongi says blankly.

“Look, I said I’d skate with Tae but he’s so adamant!” You cry.

Yoongi shoots you a dry glare, before briefly releasing your hand. You splutter for a second, surprised at the sudden coldness that engulfs your grip and the emptiness that you feel when he no longer has his fingers intertwined with your own.

“What—?” You furrow your brows but Yoongi pats you on the hand to ease your confusion.

“I’m getting you hot chocolate. Your hands are freezing.” He murmurs, and to prove his point; he grabs your fingers and rubs soothing circles on your knuckles to provide you with any warmth he could.

If your hands weren’t warm, then your cheeks definitely were. You couldn’t hold eye contact with Yoongi because he was staring at you so intently that you may have been the one to melt into a puddle on the ice.

“But the mittens—!” You call, but he’s already skating away to the confectionary stand where they sell hot chocolate.

You sigh, dejected as you frown. Did he really hate the mittens that much?

“You are so stupid.” Jin gawks at you with a shake of his head.

You turn your head so fast that you nearly fall over, but Jimin’s grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so.

“And clumsy, God, no wonder hyung won’t let you go.” He scolds.

You frown, “Hey! What the hell is up with the slander?” You whine.

Taehyung stumbles into the conversation, quite literally almost smashing his body against the divider but he manages to balance himself by gripping the hell out of Jin’s shoulders.

“You deserve it,” He sticks his tongue out as you gape at him.

“What?! Why?” You hiss, “You literally just entered the conversation!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “And I’ve had to see you and hyung doddle around each other for ages so spare me the fucking brain cells because clearly, you need it more than I do.”

“What—?” You splutter.

“You are literally the densest person on this planet.” Jin blinks.

“What are you guys even talking about?” You cry.

Jimin shoots you a dry look, willing the God’s above to give you a semblance of rationality or logic to put two and two together.

“The hand-holding? The constant going out of his way to do things for you? The fact that you’re the only person he’ll ever smile at even if you do the dumbest shit ever?” Taehyung exasperates.

You blink.

“It’s winter and his fingers get really cold—!”

Jin groans, tugging at his hair in frustration.

“No, you idiot! Yoongi literally doesn’t get cold. He’s the human equivalent of a furnace! He literally doesn’t give a shit if he freezes to death. The only reason why he ever holds your hand is that he wants to!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulder as he shakes your body while you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Does that mean—?

“He hates the mittens?” You cry, face crumbling.

You see Taehyung, Jimin and Jin’s face fall as they all share a look of disbelief.

“I’m sorry but I have no way to defend you.” Jimin blinks.

“I just wanted to do something nice for him! He’s always taking care of me and I thought knitting him a pair of mittens would help with the cold …” You mumble, eyes darting down to your feet as your voice trails off into a whisper.

“Okay, I know I promised hyung I wouldn’t say anything until she figured it out herself but I can’t take it anymore.” Taehyung seethes to the other boys.

Your eyes dart up, furrowing in confusion as Jimin and Jin’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s statement.

“Figured what—?”

“Dude, Yoongi is going to kill you,” Jin warns.

Taehyung scoffs, “Like I give a shit. I’m losing brain cells listening to her speak so this is an act of self-preservation. He’s going to thank me and so are you.”

“What are you—?” You huff.

“Yoongi likes you!” He exasperates, throwing his hands into his air.

The silence is overwhelming, as the four of you simply blink at each other. Your brain is processing his words, but it doesn’t really make sense. You’re confused as you attempt to deduce the meaning behind it until you come to a conclusion��

You look over at Jimin, “Are the two of you—?”

Jimin wants to scream.

“No, oh my God! Yoongi likes you! You!” He shakes you so hard that your head spins, “He likes you so much it’s disgusting and cute so you better do something about it and not accustom us to this torture anymore, okay?!”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You blink up, and you see Yoongi offering you a cup of hot chocolate, eyeing the rest of the boys weirdly as they stand there with tightened expressions.

“Here you go,” He says softly, helping you blow onto the steaming cup before gently placing it into your hand.

It warms you up immediately, and you only then managed to piece together what Taehyung and Jimin just told you. The realisation dawns upon you as a scandalised expression makes its way onto your face. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, observing the odd behaviour of the four of you as the three boys ignore his pointed gaze.

“L-Let’s go take a seat,” You stutter, pushing on his chest with your free hand as you attempt to skate away from the wandering eyes. The pressure was too much.

“Hey, hold on, you’ll fall.” He gently chides, doing what comes as second nature to him as he grabs your other hand, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

As the two of you skate away, you miss the sighs that leave the three boys’ lips.

“So, is there a reason why you tried to skate away like you were an Olympian?” Yoongi asks when the two of you managed to settle down in a small bench outside of the rink, tucked a decent distance away.

You look down at your palms, squeezing around the hot chocolate as you pay attention to the steam that escapes the surface.

The words from Jimin was essentially still haunting you, and you wondered if this was some sick joke of his to get back at you for mixing up his toothpaste with his shampoo a few months back. You sulk because this was a really mean joke and your feelings were about to get really hurt if he was lying to you.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, hand reaching out to tilt your chin up to look at him. His stare is so intense that you find yourself cowering away, cheeks red and embarrassed. “Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I-I … there’s nothing wrong!” You squeak, eyes travelling and landing on different people that wasn’t Yoongi. Anyone that wouldn’t cause your insides to melt with just his gaze alone.

Yoongi purses his lips in disapproval, sighing before he sets his hot chocolate by the table next to the bench and turns to face you. You knew that you had no place to run, especially when Yoongi essentially traps you with his eyes, observing your every move.

“You’re shaking.” He points out.

And only then do you realise that you were shaking, and your hands were basically vibrating with the hot chocolate. You cursed at yourself, and the cold.

“I-I’m cold.” You chatter.

Yoongi frowns, reaching out his hand to immediately grab your own to warm them up. But when you spot his hands, you squeak, immediately retracting them as if he was about to bite them off. 

You realise how it looks, and you notice the slight drop in Yoongi’s expression when you reacted the way you did.

“Are you—?” He begins to ask, slow and tentative.

“Not my hands!” You blurt out.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he relaxes his posture and raises a brow at you in questioning.

“Okay …?” He drags, “Where are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” He asks.

You curse at yourself because you didn’t know how to get yourself out of this situation. Especially now that Yoongi was patiently waiting for your response. Your thighs were essentially brushed up against each other, and his body was leaned over ever so slightly that you catch every strand of eyelashes on his eyes.

You were so weak.

“N-No, I … you can keep your jacket.” You stutter, shaking your head as you pat his puffer down when he goes to shrug it off.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, “Well, can you tell me where so I can help—?”

“My lips!” You declare, voice high pitched and loud enough that it attracts a few stares from bystanders.

Yoongi just stares at you, and you’re mortified when you realise what you said, but you can’t seem to stop now that you’ve already dug a hole for yourself.

“My … lips … they’re ... cold,” You clear your throat, blinking up at him with a false sense of determination in hopes of shielding the way your face is undoubtedly on fire right now.

“Your lips … are cold?” He articulates each world tentatively as he observes your face for any reaction.

You nod.

“Yeah. Cold.” You say.

Oh my God, shut up!

Before you can even run away, and it’s as if Yoongi expects you to flee, he pins your hands down with his own and draws closer to your face so quickly that you can barely even catch his next move.

And kisses you.

Smack on the lips.

He pulls away too fast for your liking, and you’re gaping at him like a fish out of the water when you realise what he did.

“You—” You croak, pointing a finger at him.

But Yoongi leans in once more, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, one that sends your brain into overdrive as you feel yourself melt into his hold. If you were cold, you definitely weren’t anymore. Not when Yoongi is pressed against you like a warm lover by the fireplace.

He pulls away first, again, and you notice the tip of his ears turning red before he offers you that charming smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” He sighs, reaching out to cradle your jaw in his palm. And only then do you realise that Jimin was right, his hand is warm.

“W-What?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, ignoring the way you stare up at him with confused and wide eyes; likely still absorbing what just happened.

“Just hold my hand,” He tuts, reaching in between the both of you to intertwine your fingers together once more as he rests your combined hands on his lap.

“Does this mean …?” You ask shyly, head ducking away from his eyes.

He smiles at you, and you notice that it’s the same look he’s always had whenever he speaks to you.

He brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a gentle peck to it, causing heat to rise to your cheeks all over again.

“You warm now, cutie?” He murmurs.

You melt, “Oh my God! Don’t—just—I’m literally going to die!” You whine, shoving your face into his puffer as you scream at his suaveness.

He chuckles, low and deep as he unlocks your hands to wrap an arm around your body, tugging you closer until you’re practically glued to his hip like a koala.

“Don’t die on me now,” He sighs, “Just got you to myself.”

“I hate you so much.” Your complaint is muffled into his puffer, but you can feel his grin on the top of your forehead when he presses a warm kiss to it.

“That’s disappointing. I like you very much,” He returns.

You blush, but you don’t push him away when he laughs into your hair, the sound making you melt further into his arms.

You liked him, too.

[larryjohnsonsbitch]

Possesive!Larry x reader

i said it would be out tomorrow but i’m god so it’s here now haha

let me know if you would like me to make one with gender neutral pronouns

word count: 2593

she/her pronouns

Warnings: smut, alcohol, possesive behaviour, sal x reader kiss, 

You had been dating Larry for a while now, he’s your first boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier with him. He always comes to your work during your breaks and even sits down at a table and orders drinks while he waits you to finish your shift, so there he sat now looking at you so tenderly it made your heart race. He had been here for around 2 hours, ordering various drinks while switching between watching you and going on his phone, the only thing you worried about was how long he had been waiting for you, and that you still had another hour ‘till knock off. So, you continued serving tables and taking orders, making sure he was okay when you could to which he’d reply “I love you enough to wait” with a squeeze of your arm, it didn’t really answer the question but nothing stopped him from leaving so it stayed like that until you finished and as you took of the apron which the restaurant made you wear you felt a pair of arms around your waist and a face nestling into your neck, you laughed. Spinning around to face him and peck his cheek. “I don’t like you talking to all those guys” he pouted “why can’t you just stay with me” he finished the sentence with a kiss to your head and you had never felt more loved.

“I would love to stay with you, Larry, but I have to work so I can pay rent” you smiled, setting down the apron, taking his hand in yours and lightly squeezing it. “lets go, love”

You and Larry walked back to the apartments, hand in hand, until you reached his room. Flopping down on the bed he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, you happily obliged settling between his legs, your head on his chest as you listened to his heart, his hand made its way to your hair tugging on some strands as he brushed through it with his fingers. “I’ve seen all of you and your flaws ,I still love all of you so much” he said into your hair “I don’t think many others would”

The sentence sat wrongly in your stomach, you couldn’t tell why though. He was right. Not many people would love you flaws and all. So in response you lifted your head, pressed a kiss to his lips

“I know” you said lips still so close you could feel his breath.

The two of you laid like that for hours before Larry spoke again. “Sal invited me over for a movie tomorrow, I want you to come too seems its your day off. I hate when we’re apart” you agreed to go and before you knew it you were asleep, nestled closely to Larry.

 The next day you and Larry were at Sal, Todd and Neil’s place snacks in hand, Larry’s arm was around your waist as you waited for Sal to answer the door. Todd and Neil were out for a date for the day so Sal had the place to himself. The front door opened revealing Sal, his hair down and mask on but with the lower straps unbuckled to allow him to eat, he stepped back allowing you and Larry through the door. “hey guys, good to see you” you couldn’t se his face but you assumed he was smiling by the way his mask moved upward. You walked inside Larry’s hand on your waist felt much tighter now.

“yeah dude, wouldn’t miss watching a horror movie with you man” Larry said while making himself comfortable on the couch in front of the tv, snacks discarded on the coffee table, the horror you were about to be watching was sitting beside them , ‘Scream’ it had been released earlier this year but you had never gotten around to seeing it. Sal came over sitting beside Larry, putting himself in the middle, you sat beside him turning to look at Larry he looked a little annoyed.

“you alright, love?” you asked, trying to make sure he was alright.

“come here” he said his voice was soft but far too stern, your eyebrows perked up as you got up going to stand in front of him awkwardly, he grabbed your hands a little too hard as he pulled you into his lap. You were shocked as he wrapped his arms around you caging you in, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“how’s your day been dude” Larry asked Sal, Sal seemed just as surprised as you were, his ears were red. He was probably embarrassed to be sitting right next to Larry as that happened.

“uh, uhm, alright I guess” he said, grabbing the movie and putting it into the DVD player. “are you guys going to that party on Saturday?”

“I mean I would like to..” You looked to Larry, you wanted to go but wouldn’t go if he wasn’t coming.

Larry obviously got the hint as he said “Yeah, it’d be cool to see everyone” and that was the end of the conversation. You each settled in, getting comfortable as Sal pressed play on the movie

The movie was great and you all ended up more comfortable at the end of it, despit the multiple scares you had.

“oh yeah! Sal you just got the Nintendo 64, right?” you said, you nearly completely forgot to ask, you had heard Larry mention it briefly and you wanted to see if Sal would let you come over so you and him could play together sometime.

“yeah, I did, why? You wanna play sometime?” he asked

“omg, yes please! I was gifted Mario Cart but I haven’t been able to play it yet” you pouted and Sal laughed “but yeah I’d love to play it together if that chill with you?” you hardly noticed Larry grip tightening around your hips as you talked.

“yeah, that’d be awesome! Come ‘round whenever, you’re always welcome” you smiled at the words and he rubbed the back his neck; that’s when Larry started lightly biting the sweet spot on your neck, your back arched and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds. Your face was hot and you felt far too embarrassed to stay in the room.

“i-I-I I’m just gonna quickly go to the bath-bathroom” your words struggled to come out smoothly due to the embarrassment. You quickly rushed to the bathroom; hands braced against the bathroom sink as you tried to calm down. Once your face was no longer burning and your heart and breathing were steady once more you stood up as straight as you could and walked out hearing the hushed whispers of Sal and Larry, they were fighting. You didn’t wanna intrude but it was hard not to let curiosity beat you.

“dude, I don’t like her what the fuck, I would never do that” it was Sal

“why were you eye-fucking her since we walked through the door then” Larry was angrier than you had heard him before.

“I wasn’t, dude, I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t just embarrass a girl like that, she looked ready to cry before”

“so you do like her?”

“what! NO!” they weren’t whispering and you decided to make them stop by heading back to te bathroom and yelling back to them.

“you guys aright out there?” Larry was the one who answered

“yeah babe but I think we should get going now, I forgot that my mum asked me to help out with putting up a shelf”

“okay then” you walked back out to them, smiling, they couldn’t know that you had heard them. Sal was refusing to even look at you, you held onto Larry’s arm “thanks so much, for inviting us we had a lot of fun, right babe?” you tugged softly on Larry’s arm.

“yeah, sure” he rubbed his neck with his free hand and looked anywhere but at Sal.

“it was no problem, thanks for coming” you felt bad for leaving with Larry while they were on such bad terms but there wasn’t much else you could do. The entire walk back to the apartments Larry was pouty, stealing kisses when he could. As you got back he went to Lisa reluctantly following through with his lie to leave Sal’s. it was only an hour before he was back with you in his room listening to Sanity falls and acting like nothing was wrong.

…

You could hear the music and see the flashing lights of the party from a few houses away, you and Larry walked hand in hand, He squeezed three times ‘i.love.you’ you smiled squeezing back. It was a comfortable silence around you two, you had already talked about your days’ and what you planned to do tomorrow and your plans to move in together once you’d saved up enough money. It was nice, knowing you weren’t going to have to face all the new adult stuff you had to do now you were 20 and fully out of school, alone. As the party came into view you could see most people were already wasted, red cups littered across the lawn along with steamers and someone’s pants. You laughed at the sight; it was a bigger party than you had originally expected but you had no doubt you would at least know most the people there considering how small Nockfell was.

The music was some upbeat pop band and the house was smelt like beer and sweaty bodies. People were dancing and you and Larry had to force yourself through the crowd, it took a while but you eventually found the gang, even ash was there. You hugged each of them, complimented ash on her new hair and you all fell into conversation but the tension between Sal and Larry was obvious. Larry stopped you from drinking saying that he just wants you to be sober and that the alcohol isn’t good for you even as he made his way through his own drinks and after two hours the gang -minus Todd and Neil who had disappeared into a random bedroom earlier- and some kids you went to school with were in a game of spin the bottle. Larry and Sal sat opposite you and ash was a couple people away so far neither you, Larry or Sal had had to kiss anyone and it was soon Sals turn, he leaned forward spinning the bottle, it spun around quickly but a few seconds later it slowed. Landing on you.

The tension in the air was thick and you expected Sal to spin again, but he looked between you and Larry, once and then again; and just like that he was in front of you a hand to your cheek, he lifted his mask enough for his lips to show; you could feel him shaking through the hand on your cheek, your heart was hammering and you were to shocked to do anything but sit and desperately hope he was joking, but his lips brushed yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to you lips.

Larry had stood up, pushing Sal out of the way and grabbing your wrist tightly enough to bruise, he dragged you through the crowd of people and kicked people out of the bathroom before pushing you in and locking the door behind himself.

 “Larry? I’m so sorry I was too shocked to move and i-“you were against the wall, Larry’s hands beside your head. He kissed you. It was burning, different to before, he was burning, and you would burn with him. His tongue was in your mouth exploring ever crevice of you, his knee rubbing between your legs

“can i?” despite the alcohol and anger, he cared enough to ask. You nodded

Pushed against the bathroom wall, the heat between your legs growing hotter as Larry licked a line up your neck stopping just before your ear where he softly bit your earlobe, you bucked your hips up to him trying to get any friction against your core. He chuckled in your ear his voice deep and arousing, it sent shivers down your spine as he started sucking and biting at your neck while he trailed one hand down your chest to the waist of your pants. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a hand through his hair softly tugging at strands, he groaned as he trailed his hand down further; you could feel his fingers through the fabric of your pants and desperately tried to get him to touch you more.

“such a needy little thing…” he whispered into your ear before removing your pants, he lifted your leg, holding it just under the underside of your knee. “up”. You happily obliged jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught your other leg pressing you harder against the wall to keep you up.

You could feel his length through his jeans and you grinded against it moaning softly as you did. “fuck” his hand slid upward to your inner thigh just below where you need him.

“tell me how much you need me” he growled, and the dark look in his eyes wasn’t like any expression you’d seen him make before. It was hot. So hot. Your arousal was dripping between your legs, you needed him like he was some form of drug and you loved it.

“I need you” you panted “so bad, Larry, please fuck me” you rolled your hips against his to emphasize and just like that something snapped in Larry. Within a couple movement his pants and boxers were at his ankles and his erection ready to enter your dripping sex, pre-cum leaked through the slit and tip was a gorgeous red. You stoked it lightly and Larry’s head tipped back, a moan echoing through the bathroom. His grip on your hips tightened and he positioned himself at your entrance, he rested his head on your shoulder.

“mine, mine, mine, mine, mine” with each word he started thrusting into you, your head hit the wall and you couldn’t hold back the chorus of moans that escaped you, his name fell off your lips like a prayer and he only went harder as you got louder.

His finger circled your clit, his mouth leaving hickeys across your chest. Your tears stained your cheeks at the overstimulation he was giving you. “every time I see you talk to someone, I wanna kill them. You’re mine, mine!” he hit your g-spot with each word, your fingers clawed down his back leaving marks. The knot that had developed in your abdomen was ready to burst and as your eyes rolled back you were no longer capable of words, only senseless babbles.

“I love you, I’d die without you” he moaned, as you came around his dick; And seconds later he was shooting his load inside you. He didn’t slow down though, and as you grasped onto his shoulders panting from your orgasm you realized he would continue fucking you until you couldn’t move.

“Larry” you pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing softly despite how hard he was slamming himself into you “I love you, I’m not leaving” a tear slipped from his eye landing on your chest. You knew why he was acting this way, he was scared you’d disappear, leave, like his dad and he would try and do everything in his power to make sure that you didn’t.

[writerpeach]

Services

SNSD Tiffany x Male Reader

6066 words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

The knock at the door startled you more than expected.

It was shortly after 10 p.m. when you heard it, tossing your phone to the side as it landed on the nightstand. You made an effort to lift yourself off the mattress, heading towards the brown wooden door and took a deep breath before letting it out and unlocked it, turning the doorknob and swinging it open.

“Good evening, sir.”

Standing on the other side of the door was a raven-haired beauty of a woman with a gorgeous smile, dressed in a tight turtleneck sweater and equally tight skirt that showed off her voluptuous figure, black stockings and high heels that accentuated her luscious slender legs.

“You must be Tiffany.”

“That’s correct, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied, flashing a smile filled with confidence that put you at ease.

“Please come in,” you said, holding the door open for her as she stepped in, the loud clack of her heels filling the room with every step. You grabbed the ‘do not disturb’ sign, placing it on the opposite side of the doorknob before shutting it gently and locking it tight.

It had been a while since you had been with a woman, though not for lack of trying. You were in constant demand at work, and your job didn’t allow the luxury to meet anyone, let alone find the time to get to know them enough. There were plenty of attractive women who flirted with you in your office, but you wanted to remain professional and refused to spur any advances so as to not cause a company-wide scandal were things to go wrong.

“You can have a seat if you’d like,” you said, gesturing to the spacious bed nearby as the dark-haired woman took you up on your offer and sat down on the edge, crossing her gorgeous creamy legs and placed her purse to the side.

Before joining her you grabbed an unmarked white enveloped off the kitchen counter, stuffed to the brim and handed it to her. She took a brief glance inside before graciously accepting it and tucking it into her luxury purse.

“Thank you, sir. Now tell me, what can I do for you tonight?”

It was almost an entire week's worth of pay, but you knew as soon as you opened the door and met Tiffany face to face that you had made the right decision.

“I’d like you to make me feel good.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said, placing a hand on your thigh and gently caressing it as she gazed into your eyes, giving a look of reassurance.

“Everything has been paid for, including the extra amount for anal. You have my services for the next hour, I’ll do whatever you’d like.”

If there was any nervous tension left in your body it had all just vanquished into the air.

“Perfect. Strip for me, Tiffany. Keep the heels on.”

You had been dying to see every inch of her body since the moment you laid eyes on her and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Of course, sir,” she said as she rose from the mattress, spinning around to let you get a full view of her amazing body. With a sensual look in her eyes she unzipped the back of her skirt and removed her top from her body, hastily wiggling out of her skirt as she let both fall to the ground aimlessly.

Your mouth salivated uncontrollably as Tiffany was left in a matching set of lacey pink lingerie, showing off the plentiful curves of her body. Such a perfect woman was blessed with luscious thighs, a tight toned midriff and a beautiful set of tits, although not the biggest they were plenty big enough to fit into your hands. The bright colors of her undergarments contrasted with the dark garments on the floor as she beamed with confidence as your eyes feasted on her with hunger.

With her hands on her wide hips Tiffany let your eyes sample her body, preparing you for the main course that was about to be served for you. She quickly unhooked her bra, tossing it away and ran her small hands up her upper body before giving her exposed tits a quick squeeze, pinching her hardening nipples. Her milky tits were divine, the perfect size and shape for her body type and you felt your pants tightening at the sight of them,

“Like what you see so far?” Tiffany asked, giggling cutely as her fingers played with her rosy pink nipples.

“I do. When I asked for the best they weren’t kidding around.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure you get your money's worth."

Tiffany ran her hands over the exposed flesh of her body, lifting her arms up over her head to give you the perfect view. There was just one thing left, and she wasn't going to make you wait for it as she spun on her heels and bent over, letting you see her tight ass almost fully exposed in the skimpiest thong nestled in between soft looking milky cheeks of her backside.

You weren't prepared as Tiffany slowly peeled her thong off her wide hips and down her long legs, kicking it away as her beautiful pussy was revealed.

“Shaved clean as requested.”

The pink flesh between Tiffany's thighs was mouthwatering, and you couldn't hold back as you brought two fingers and rubbed her pink slit, feeling the wetness present already.

“Nice and wet for you already,” Tiffany said as she turned around to face you, the constant smile plastered on her face as her newly naked body was all yours to gawk over as your eyes roamed over every inch of bare skin.

"God, you're absolutely perfect," you said, unable to stop staring at her tight body for a second. If Tiffany was the top of the line when it came to escorts, you were kicking yourself for not hiring one before if they were all even half as hot as she was.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Now, what else can I do for you, sir?”

There was a small part of you that just wanted to bend her over the bathroom counter and finish inside her within just minutes, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy that as much and you certainly wouldn’t get your money’s worth. You wanted this to be a memorable experience.

“I want you to suck my cock.”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up at your request as if you had just named one of her favorite things to do.

“I’d love to, sir. Why don’t you get comfortable for me?”

It would take getting used to this, having Tiffany obeying practically anything you wanted without question. You scooted back onto the bed, fixing the pillows the way you liked it before laying on your back and awaited what was next. Tiffany was eagerly one step behind, carefully climbing the bed in nothing but heels and a smile.

You settled yourself in and felt the comforting weight of Tiffany on your body, her beautiful face inches away from yours as she leaned in to kiss you, her lips ridiculously soft. Her small hands unbuttoned your shirt, exposing your chest little by little.

“Has it been a while?” Tiffany asked, opening your shirt all the way up to fully reveal your bare torso to her as she licked your bare chest.

Maybe she could sense it or see it in your eyes, all you knew was you missed everything about this. Tiffany took your silence as an answer, planting another kiss on your lips while playing with your bare chest.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll make sure to take good care of you, sir,” she said as she leaned back and grabbed a handful of your bulge that had been poking through your pants, feeling the outline with both of her petite hands.

“How do you like your dick sucked?” she asked, a question you certainly hadn’t been asked before. She felt up more of your bulge before growing impatient and unzipping your pants.

“I’m not picky. Do you have a gag reflex, Tiffany?”

She shook her head as she yanked your pants off, tossing them off the side of the bed as your bulge poked more prominent through the fabric of your boxers, desperately wanting to escape.

“Not even a little bit. I can go as deep as you’d like, sir,” she said, wanting to offer a demonstration as she practically ripped your boxers off your body, freeing your rock hard shaft to the air as her eyes widened.

“You have a very nice cock,” Tiffany said, hungrily eyeing your exposed cock as her warm delicate hands caressed your bare thighs, sending more blood to your aching shaft.

Tiffany licked her lips and wrapped one hand around your stiff shaft, letting the other rest on your thigh as she gently pumped it, spitting on it several times as she made it glistening wet with her warm saliva.

“I’m going to make you feel very good, sir.”

Time was of the essence here, and Tiffany didn’t waste any as she got straight to work, giving a few teasing licks before parting her lips and taking you into the warmth of her mouth, sucking on the first few inches of your cock.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned, overwhelmed with the heavenly sensations as Tiffany sucked you off, never breaking eye contact as her heavenly soft lips wrapped around your cock and her cheeks hollowed. The pleasure was intense, and with a few short movements she pushed her lips deeper and deeper until she had taken every inch down her tight throat, resting her wet mouth at the base of your cock.

“Oh my god, Tiffany,” you said, struggling to keep your senses in check as she kept your cock warm inside her mouth, squeezing the muscles in her throat to add stimulation without any struggle whatsoever. When her lips slid back down, she repeated the same act with ease, taking you all the way down as your tip hit the back of her throat and tightened around it as if it demonstrating her prowess.

You couldn’t help but let out a series of groans and moans, the feeling of your shaft stuffed inside Tiffany’s mouth as she worked a face pace, bobbing her head rapidly and slurping on every inch.

“You’re so good at that, f-fuck.”

“It’s all part of the job, sir. I love pleasing you. It helps when you have such a yummy cock,“ Tiffany said as she dove right back, lips going wild on your cock.

The pleasure was driving you insane as she kept her hungry eyes on you, using her lips and tongue to pleasure you. She used long strokes from base to tip effortlessly, not gagging once even as you hit the back of her throat several times.

Maybe she was an expert at blowjobs due to her job or her natural skills, either way you were lost in bliss. This went on for several breathtaking seconds as she continued slobbering on your cock, becoming progressively sloppier with each bob of her head as she covered your shaft in drool, some of it spilling out of the corners of her lips and dripping on the stunning features of her face.

“You like it when a messy little slut sucks your cock?”

Your only response came in loud moans as her oral assault never ceased, something you were thankful for but at the same time it became difficult to handle. It had been too long since you had gotten a blowjob that felt so good you felt it everywhere, and you’d give up an entire month’s paycheck for incredible head like this.

Tiffany was nothing but a consummate professional when it came to sucking your cock, she knew just what to do with her talented mouth, making sure to keep her pretty eyes on you to make sure you were enjoying it all.

“Can’t leave any part out,” she said, exploring your shaft with her wet tongue until she arrived at your sensitive balls, painting each one in succession before tenderly sucking them individually. With even more hunger Tiffany slurped on them just as loud and messily as she did your shaft, keeping your wet cock in her hands as she stroked it at the same time, wanting to give as much wanton pleasure as possible.

“That feels so fucking good.”

“I’m glad. Would you like a little extra, sir?”

You weakly forced out a nod, and she gave a few more loud messy slurps as her tongue ran lazy circles around your balls. You weren’t sure what she meant but you quickly found out as she lowered her head and you felt her tongue teasing the tip of your untouched hole, causing your entire body to jerk at the suddenness.

“H-holy s-shit,” you moaned, the intense sensation felt so new and foreign as Tiffany explored more of your hole, pushing her wet tongue inside your ass all while she kept a strong grip on your cock, pumping it slowly as she stimulated as many parts of your body as she could.

You had never felt anything like this, your cock leaked all over Tiffany’s slender fingers as she rimmed you, the sensations so sharp and intense you were losing all control. Tiffany practically was thrusting her tongue inside your hole with her tongue and looking up at you with a constant look of determination, trying to wring out every ounce of pleasure she could.

Desperate gasps and moans grew louder as Tiffany went wild. Slow pleasurable licks grew into long deep swirls of her tongue as she buried her tongue inside, making out with your tight hole and hitting all the sensitive nerves as she quickly coated it with her warm saliva.

It took everything you had not to erupt right then, something she seemed to sense as she slowly her pace down. Tiffany licked from your taint to the tip of your cock repeatedly before forming a fist around your needy cock and slowly jerking you off.

“T-that was incredible,” you said, your labored breathing making it hard to speak clearly. You felt grateful for the respite on your body as Tiffany gave slow circles around your swollen tip, rubbing that sweet spot on the underside of your shaft.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that, sir. Are you ready to fuck me yet?” she asked, smiling brightly as she lazily stroked your cock.

“Absolutely.”

“Good, how do you want me, sir?”

So many choices, but so little time. You wanted to take her on every surface in your hotel room, but you would have to narrow it down a bit. You grabbed her hips, gesturing for her to get off you as you laid her on her side, marveling at the beauty of her naked body. You ran your fingers through her wet folds, playing with her pretty pussy before joining her and laying down beside her.

“Good choice. This is one of my favorite positions.”

You grabbed a hip and made sure her legs were closed, rubbing your tip through her slick pussy lips to feel her warmth. Her flesh felt so silky soft already that you knew you were in for a treat as you aimed yourself at her opening, unprepared for the sensations awaiting your body.

“Shove it all inside me. Don’t hold anything back, sir.”

“Do you like it rough, baby?” you asked as you nudged your tip against her warm entrance, pushing yourself inside her warm wet hole as you entered her with a loud moan.

“F-fuck, yes. I love being fucked rough. If I can still walk out of here you haven’t gotten your money's worth."

Tiffany shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes beckoning you to take her as you pushed in deeper. Her walls gripped you tightly, a tightness that surprised you given that Tiffany was paid to sleep with people on a regular basis, but it was more than welcome and you needed more of it.

"You're so big, sir. Keep going, stretch my tight little pussy out.."

Tiffany felt so wet and warm, her pussy squeezing your throbbing shaft that you found it easy to slide all the way inside her, bottoming her out. Given her earlier words you didn’t allow any time for adjustment and began delivering rough thrusts, burying yourself inside her to the hilt.

“Just like that, use my tight pussy. It’s all for you, sir,” Tiffany said as your pace quickened and you began slamming into her tight cunt, earning more moans as you fucked her with purpose.

Your hands weren’t kept idle, keeping a hand on her waist as you snaked the other under her body, reaching underneath her arm and grabbed a handful of her breast, squeezing the soft flesh as you pounded away.

The position you took her in was perfect, granting you constant eye contact with the sultry vixen you were driving yourself as deep as you could, letting you see all her curves while giving additional intimacy that something missionary could never offer.

“Like those tits?” Tiffany asked, an unnecessary question as your fingers were kneading into her soft flesh, playing with the stiff nipple that you found.

“I love them. They’re beautiful,” you said, and you wish that you had time to feast on them, but given you only had an hour you had more important things you wanted to do to her.

“Play with yourself for me, baby,” you ordered, as you grabbed one of her soft thighs and lifted her leg into the air, granting access to her pretty little cunt. She obliged without hesitation and brought a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow delicate circles.

“You feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder, sir,” she said, her eyes glued to you as you continued playing with her breasts, using more power in your hips as you began pounding away into her tight cunt that demanded more.

You hadn’t been inside her for that long, but Tiffany was already dripping wet, your shaft covered in her sweet nectar which aided every thrust and made every movement silky smooth that you wanted to stay inside her forever.

There were a lot of benefits to this position, the most prominent being able to roam Tiffany’s body as you fucked her, getting lost in her curves as you looked at every inch of bare skin from her pretty face all the way down to her feet.

“How’s that pussy feel? Tight enough for you?” Tiffany asked, every thrust of your shaft rocking her slender body that made the bed shake in rhythm.

“Feels so fucking good. Should have done this a long time ago,” you said as you upped your pace even more, harshly smacking your hips against her bare skin, the needy sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room.

“You fuck me so well. My pussy is getting so stretched by such a big cock, oh fuck! I’m c-close, can I cum, sir?”

She didn’t need permission, but you appreciated her asking for it. Her professionalism knew no end.

“Of course. Cum for me, Tiffany,” you said, giving even harder thrusts into her body as the bed smacked against the wall. You felt bad for whoever was on the other side of the wall, but that guilt dissipated shortly as you pounded into her, every thrust balls deep into her wet and enjoyable warmth.

Tiffany didn’t take long to achieve climax, her pussy pulsating around you shaft wildly as your hips pistoned, her body taking every hard thrust and accepting it with ease. She came loudly, the entire bed shaking as her body gave in as her toes curled, ecstasy hitting her from all sides as she was turned into a puddle of pleasure.

You didn’t let up as you fucked Tiffany straight through her orgasm, the intense pleasure doing a number on her as she let out multiple needy moans and gasps. Your cock drowned in her juices as you kept thrusting, only letting up once you felt her high had run its course.

“T-that was amazing, sir. You really know how to fuck a woman.”

Tiffany’s glazed over eyes looked weakly at you as you gave a half-dozen more thrusts before leaving the comfort of her warmth, watching your shaft covered with her juices glistening in the lights.

“I’m just getting started. I’d love to fuck you from behind. Bend over for me, please.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

Tiffany didn’t waste any time as she faced the foot of the bed, getting herself into position on her hands and knees. Her sinful body was all yours for the taking, that perfectly round ass of hers raised in the air as her head was flat on the mattress.

The view you saw in front of you was absolutely perfect as you ran your hands all over Tiffany’s body, feeling the material of her stockings and squeezing her buttcheeks as your fingers dug into her soft flesh. Her body was an absolute work of art, blessed with pristine milky skin from head to toe that you wish you had the entire night just to lick every inch of her.

“You like fucking a girl with heels on?”

“It’s one of my favorite things.”

“I like it too, it makes me feel sexy. Now shove that cock back inside me, sir.”

Not wanting to spend any time outside her than what was necessary, you took your shaft into one hand and rubbed it against her wet pussy, the abundant wetness making itself known as your aching shaft sank inside into her tight hole, causing a shared moan.

Tiffany felt even better as you entered her from behind, much tighter and wetter as her slick walls clung around your shaft as if they desperately wanted you trapped inside her. Placing a hand on each of her delicious hips, your hands squeezed her soft flesh as you began to move, thrusting just as deep as you did before as those beautiful moans of hers filled your eardrums.

It took some time for your body to process everything, the sensations almost too much to bear as you fucked Tiffany’s tight body from behind. The hot dripping flesh wrapped so tightly around your cock, squeezing so harshly as you slammed into her warm hole, it was all so heavenly and a moment you wanted to freeze in time.

After several breaths you found a rhythm that you liked, the warmth of Tiffany’s tight cunt driving you crazy as her erotic moans endlessly left her sultry lips, desperately pleading for more.

You needed a distraction from the pleasure flooding your senses as your hands explored her body, touching as much bare skin as you could. Exploring everywhere from her bare shoulders to her toned back, you were once again drawn to her breasts, giving the soft mounds a firm squeeze, kneading the soft flesh until your hands were back to her wonderful ass.

It was an explosion of pleasure being this deep inside Tiffany, feeling every last bit of her pussy with your throbbing hungry shaft as you pounded her to the hilt.

You wanted more of this sexual woman, you desperately needed more than what you were taking from her as you reached down just above her currently filled slit and teased her puckered hole with your thumb.

The moan you heard from Tiffany signaled she not only enjoyed this but wanted more. You were happy to indulge her as you let spit fall out of your lips and land inside her tight rim as you pushed your thumb inside her forbidden area.

You pushed past your knuckle and pumped slowly in rhythm as you gently opened her up, giving yourself a sample of how tight her other hole was.

“Do you like taking it in the ass?” you asked, pushing in as deep as your thumb could go as the rim of her ass invited you in.

“Fuck yes, sir. But I want more than just your thumb inside my ass.”

You would be more than happy to help her with that as you gave her your final round of thrusts inside her pussy, slowly withdrawing from her warmth in preparation of what the next step was.

“There’s lube in my purse.”

You grabbed her expensive purse that had been forgotten on its side, opening it up and trying not to snoop around as you found a clear bottle of liquid tucked away at the bottom.

“A woman always comes prepared. Even when I’m not working,” Tiffany said, flashing her bright smile again as she looked over her shoulder while you lined up your lubed cock with the rim of her ass.

The instant you felt flesh on flesh you felt your breath being taken away as you nudged against Tiffany’s ass and took a deep breath in preparation.

“It’s been a few days since I’ve gotten a request for anal. I’ve been craving it so badly, I can’t wait to feel how that cock feels inside my ass.”

You couldn’t wait any longer, pushing your hips forward as your cock slipped inside her warm and suffocatingly tight asshole, disappearing in between her cheeks. Startly slowly, you penetrated her with the tip of your cock before shoving the entirety of your length inside, every inch of your throbbing shaft being squeezed firmly.

“Holy shit, that’s fucking tight,” you moaned, not offering her time to adjust the thick flesh inside her as you wanted her opened up without hesitation. Tiffany didn’t seem to mind one bit as her hands scrambled to wrap her slender fingers around the bed sheets, letting out satisfied moans of pleasure as you pumped away.

Your hands found their rightful place on her wide hips once more and you watched intently as you buried your shaft to the hilt inside her shapely ass, every motion you made intensified by the grippingly tight hole that swallowed up your cock.

You established a furious pace, even harsher than when you had been inside her pussy as the overwhelming tightness surrounded the entirety of your shaft. Every loud smack of your hips caused her asscheeks to ripple, your balls slapping against her dripping cunt as she shouted out louder in deep bliss.

The rhythm was harsh and merciless, in and out your cock speared Tiffany’s tight asshole repeatedly as you were able to fuck her with ease, stuffing her perfect little ass with as much cock as would fit, unleashing a torrent of rough thrusts that shook the entire bed.

“Is this what you like, Tiffany? Being a good little slut for me?”

“Y-yes, sir, I love how deep you are, I feel so fucking full. I don’t want you to stop until you’re satisfied.”

Tiffany had satisfied you plenty already, but you wanted to hold her to her words, and you weren’t done with her. You went all in, using Tiffany’s body for your own pleasure and let your animalistic urges take over, thrusting into her tight ass with every amount of force and energy you had in you.

It was rough, loud, and certainly pleasurable to fuck her at such an extreme pace, wondering if you had started to hurt her but the never-ending stream of moans that escaped her throat signaled the opposite.

“Oh fuck, It feels so good!”

“You like your ass being fucked like this? God, you’re still so fucking tight!

“Y-yes! I love my tight little asshole being stretched, please keep using me!”

Tiffany’s pleading words were the very encouragement you needed to use the remaining strength you had. If this was the first use of her services, you might need to make weekly appointments with her.

You wanted to take more pleasure from Tiffany’s willing body as you grabbed her slender arms and locked them behind her, driving your cock deep inside her hot little asshole knowing the end would soon be near for you.

Tiffany’s noise of pleasure intensified as the use of her arms to find any sort of purchase was taken away from her, giving in and losing any self of control as you gave the harshest thrusts into her ass you could muster with only the goal of climax in mind.

With a bruising grip on her slim wrists you held her arms in place, furiously thrusting into her warm hole carelessly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you mercilessly used Tiffany’s body, feeling a knot tightening in your abdomen.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” you growled, the words almost involuntarily slipping out of your lips as the pressure boiling inside your body was quickly becoming too much, pistoning wildly into her ass and desperately chasing your orgasm.

“Please cum for me, sir. Cum wherever you would like.”

It took you some time to figure out where just where you wanted to do that, as each subsequent thrust brought you closer and closer to orgasm. The thought of spilling your seed in her tight ass was very appealing, but painting that gorgeous face of hers with your thick load was irresistible and won out in the end.

With the final decision made you gave into your desires, savoring the last bit of hammering thrusts inside her ass until your limits had been reached and you withdrew from her now gaping hole, hopping off the bed.

“Come here, get on your knees. Hurry up.”

Tiffany scurried to join your position, excitedly getting on her knees on the side of the bed for you without wasting any time. Both of you knew you didn’t have long as you slowly stroked your cock, aiming it at her perfect features.

“Cum all over my face, sir. Please, I know you’re just dying to make a mess all over me.”

The copious amount of dirty talk that left Tiffany’s lips was the tipping point, her eyes staring up at you as her hands caressed your thighs, rubbing them up and down and trying to urge your orgasm.

“F-fuck, Tiffany, I’m cumming!”

“Cover me, sir! I need your cum so badly, please cum all over me!”

You held her head with your free hand, keeping her in place as the moment you both had been waiting for arrived. With just a few more strokes you unloaded all over her face. You sprayed her forehead with thick hot spurts of semen, then her cheeks and nose, finally ending with her lips until she was thoroughly glazed, smiling the entire time until not a single drop remained.

When she had earned every last drop from she took your still pulsating shaft from you, sucking your tip to make sure nothing was left, as the generous load you left staining her features slowly dripped down her face.

“Thank you, sir,” Tiffany said with the biggest smile on her face as she licked her lips, trying to taste the fresh warmth that had been deposited on her skin. Her features now coated with thick cream had never looked better, accentuating her stunning visuals as the happiness in her eyes now clearly visible.

Her slender fingers wrapped around your sensitive shaft, running her hands from base to tip and giving a firm squeeze.

“You’re still hard?” Tiffany asked, giving your balls a firm tug.

“You’ve got ten minutes left, sir. Think you can go for another round?”

Trying to catch your breath you let out a gentle nod as Tiffany looked on in delight, her face still stained with your generous load and she had never looked prettier.

“Perfect! I’ll go cleaned up and you can take a break. Meet me in the shower whenever you’re ready.”

Tiffany was as bubbly and bright as ever as she left your sight, her wide hips swaying as she disappeared into the bathroom.

✦✦

The hot steamy shower was the perfect backdrop, accompanied by the sound of running water and desperate gasps and moans. If the bedroom had been the main course this was the much needed dessert to satisfy your appetite.

Tiffany had the energy of a woman who seemingly could go all night, and you were lucky for just an hour of her time,

She had an insatiable look in her eyes, as her legs spread wide for easy access as you held on to each of her supple cheeks with your palms, pinning her body against the cold shower door as you repeatedly bounced her on your wet cock.

The echoing shower walls were filled with equal parts lustful noises and steam as you carried her weight, driving yourself again and again into her pussy as the hot water sprayed down your naked bodies.

Tiffany’s energetic expression had been turned into lust and desire as her hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, taking every inch into her body with ease and demanding more and more.

The sounds of hot flesh against flesh spurred your loins as you gave a final set of thrusts before setting her back down, letting her bare feet touch the shower tile for a moment before you spun her around, inserting yourself into her tightness once more.

Neither of you said a word as you once again pinned Tiffany’s body to the shower door, communicating only in pleasurable moans as her breasts were smashed against the glass as you pistoned into her hole, grabbing onto a handful of hair for good measure.

Water droplets bounced off her skin in time with her rippling cheeks to the rhythm of just two people, weren’t going to last the full ten minutes, not that you needed to. This time you weren’t going to leave her warmth until you were done with her, you weren’t going to let her leave the steam-filled shower without your cum dripping down her thighs.

Your time in the shower seemed to last forever as you pounded Tiffany, trying to find your desired outcome. With your fingers wrapped in a bundle of rough ponytail while the other squeezed a hip, you took your final moments of pleasure from her and maintained constant desperation for your release.

“I’m going to cum inside you, Tiffany,” you said directly into her ear, not asking for permission, simply letting her know that she was only there to execute your whims as your hands roamed her delicious backside before finding their destination, giving a hard slap against her ass that caused her pussy to tighten around you.

“Please do, sir. Please cum inside me!”

It took little time at all as you slammed into her cunt, burying yourself to the hilt for the last few strokes, making each one count. Moaning loudly enough to overpower the water current you erupted, spilling your seed deep into Tiffany’s tight pussy and filling her insides with a plentiful flood of semen.

You thrusted until you couldn’t, emptying your balls inside the inviting woman’s hole while you throbbing wildly until you were drained, sending everything you had into her body. You barely had enough energy to stand as you rested your chin on her shoulder, letting go of the tight grip of her raven locks as they draped across her wet naked back.

Exhausted gasps echoed together as you slowly withdrew an inch at a time until she was no longer filled with flesh, your cum leaking out of her splayed pink lips and staining her beautiful thighs as it spilled onto the water underneath, washing itself away.

“You’re...amazing,” you weakly said, gasping between tired syllables.

“Just part of the job, sir.”

Tiffany spun around for you and let you gander once more at her naked body, and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time you saw her in this state as you both took your exit out of the shower.

You dried off and slipped into a fresh pair of boxers and took a seat on the bed. Tiffany joined shortly after, leaving the bathroom still filled with steam in a loosely tied bathrobe.

“Was everything satisfactory, sir?” she asked, disposing of the cotton white robe as she commenced the part of the night you were regretting, changing back into what she arrived in.

“Couldn’t ask for anything better, Tiffany. You were wonderful.”

“Thank you, sir. Call me if you need my services again.”

[woniepop]

feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be. 

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you. 

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible. 

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after. 

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction. 

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him. 

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth. 

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. 

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you? 

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well. 

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man. 

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims. 

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?” 

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.” 

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. 

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade? 

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them. 

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness. 

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.” 

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes. 

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream. 

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks. 

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

 As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country. 

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible. 

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually. 

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.” 

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

beau wakes up calm.

it’s a feeling so pervasive that she’s almost unsettled by it. their lives aren’t calm right now, between eiselcross and vess de rogna and now these eyes that keep popping up all over her and caleb. any calm she feels is usually immediately overshadowed by guilt for feeling it.

but beau can’t find it in her to feel guilty right now, not when the tower is quiet and there is a large, warm arm thrown protectively over her stomach. not when beau can feel the tickle of hot air at the back of her neck as yasha breathes, steady and restful in a way she doesn’t get to be when she’s awake. beau considers learning magic just so she can stop time and give yasha all the rest she deserves.

for now, she slowly rolls onto her back, taking care not to jostle yasha or slip out from under her secure embrace. she rolls over and doesn’t open her eyes until she’s on her back, the mirror directly above her, waiting.

it’s a sex mirror. of course it’s that, because caleb said as much when he told her about it, and god, does she owe him a week’s worth of uninterrupted research or whatever nerdy thing he wants in return. it’s a sex mirror and she and yasha have checked that off their list already, at least for the first time. second, fourth, something--they have definitely checked that off their list for a quantifiable number of times, it’s just that beau doesn’t quite know the number.

it’s a sex mirror but it’s also not because it’s more, because beau opens her eyes and can see the two of them as they are now--wrapped together, heavy and sticky in the illusory sunlight, sheets draped carelessly across their legs. they look good together. it isn’t the first time beau’s thought that, and with any luck (and a lot of hard work), it won’t be the last. but this is the first time that beau’s had the chance to really sink into that feeling, to see the reality of it and commit it to memory.

beau takes her time looking, glances over her own familiar body and the way it melts against one she can’t wait to know better. she should be a little cold perhaps, given that the sheets don’t go any higher than her hips and she hasn’t been wearing clothes for a good couple of hours. but yasha is so very there, so wide and curled around her in a way that seeks comfort as much as gives it. she’s on her side, the parts of her that aren’t touching beau sprawled greedily across the expanse of the bed. beau could spend hours looking at this reflection of them, of yasha and the curve of her muscles; the way her skin actually seems to create a glare in the early morning light. it’s so bright normally, even brighter now for the nearness of beau. time is fleeting and the tower will disappear soon and so beau is greedy--she looks at the angle of yasha’s legs, the way she twitches her toes on the one foot that hangs over the edge of the bed. beau looks at yasha’s back, the slope and strength of it; she remembers how solid and warm it felt under her fingers just a few hours ago. beau has known how sturdy yasha is since they met--has lusted over it since then, to be honest--but to feel it within her grasp, to be pressed against it and to have it soften and yield at her touch…

beau would learn magic to give yasha the peace she needs. she would learn art to memorialize this moment and the way they look together.

she watches yasha sleep, clocks the way her nose is pressed into the crook of beau’s neck. she almost cries at the drape of yasha’s arm across her chest--a few inches down and she’d have a handful of boob. as it is, beau’s heart is beating a rhythm right into yasha’s palm. 

beau turns her head away from yasha and clears her throat. “hey.” she clears it again when it becomes clear just how ragged it’s gotten. “dachsies, can you hear me? or do i have to yell.” she waits, straining to listen for the soft clink of a tiny bell or two. “frumpkin?” she tries again.

there is a faint ‘mrrp’ and the door to her bedroom opens slightly, just wide enough for a lithe fey cat to slip through. she can’t see frumpkin as he enters the room, but he’s there all of a sudden, jumping noiselessly and weightlessly on top of the bed.

he stares at her expectantly and beau wishes very much that caleb isn’t snooping, too.

frumpkin walks forward and sits next to her, the not-quite-fur of his tail swishing against her side. beau can’t help reaching out with the hand that isn’t trapped by yasha’s body and giving him a few scratches under his chin. he preens, closes his eyes tilts up to give her a better angle, and settles right back into his serious face when she pulls away.

“can you get the hot tub going again,” beau murmurs, “with some nice shampoos and shit? and maybe start working on a few dozen pancakes; i’m sure the others are gonna barge in here soon. make sure there’s a stack of spider ones for me and yash.”

frumpkin chirps again, butts his head against her chest as he jumps off the bed. beau reaches out to affectionately grab his tail, chuckling as it slips through her hands.

yasha is awake when beau turns back to look at her.

“hello,” yasha whispers. “good morning.” beau cuts her off with a kiss. “i love you.”

beau smiles at that, rolls over and presses herself firmly into yasha. she repositions yasha’s arm to wrap around her back, laughs when yasha drifts downward and squeezes her ass. beau kisses her again and again, slow and firm, catching any inch of lips or neck that she might have missed before. her hands roam without any destination, traipsing over the plane of yasha’s stomach, tickling at the dimples in her shoulders underneath which her wings sprout. beau knows how sensitive those spots are now, and she presses her fingers against them, syncs that up with another determined kiss. she doesn’t miss the way yasha’s tongue stutters against her own, the brief loss of contact she sacrifices to gasp, just a little.

yasha’s nails turn inwards and dig into beau’s hips, and beau returns the favor. 

beau reaches upward and grips yasha’s chin, marveling at the fact that her thumb seems to fit perfectly over the line of black beneath yasha’s lip. she pulls away and tickles the skin there, can’t resist one more kiss, especially when it elicits that special, breathy kind of laugh from yasha.

she makes sure yasha’s eyes are open and looking at her before she speaks.

“i love you, too,” beau says, her voice deeper and hoarser than usual, even for the morning. “last night was...i won’t ever forget it, yash.”

“me either.”

“might have been the best night of my life.”

“not if i have anything to say about it,” yasha winks. “i wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“yeah,” beau sighs--breathes, really, and she falls a little more in love with the way yasha doesn’t turn her face away from what is definitely a bad case of morning breath. “we’ve still got some time before we have to, though. the dogs are setting up the hot tub right now.”

yasha laughs, deep and rumbly and beau feels it in her chest. “before all of you i never would have understood that sentence.”

“right?”

“mhm. it is--a very fun thing to think about.”

yasha gently lifts a strand of hair from beau’s face and tucks it behind her ear. beau watches the entire time, so entranced by the size and safety of yasha’s hands, so determined to follow their path with a kiss, that she misses yasha’s other hand coming up to rest behind her legs, and beau lets out a very uncool yelp as yasha lifts her from the bed.

yasha drags them across the mattress, stands and gets herself situated, and it isn’t until they’re halfway to the floating pad that beau clocks exactly how she’s being carried.

yasha’s arms are confident beneath her shoulders and legs, and beau has looped her arms around yasha’s neck instinctually, and tears start to well up in this moment of realization.

“yasha…”

yasha stops walking, leans down and kisses her, and it isn’t because they’re naked that beau is glad no one can see them right now.

beau flutters through her feelings and rests her head against yasha’s chest, silently, as they float gently down to the hot tub. 

everything seems more muted in the daytime--the lionesses aren’t as imposing, the slides aren’t as tempting. but the steam and smells are just as inviting, and beau lets herself be carried into the water, settling into the warmth as yasha reaches for the soaps.

they both slip under the water; beau shakes her head and scratches at her scalp while she lingers, getting out the last of her restless energy. she pops back above the surface and drifts over to yasha, who has settled into the corner, her arms resting elegantly atop the stone edges. beau drops into yasha’s lap without a word, humming, content, as yasha’s arms slip back into the water and wrap around her body. yasha snakes her legs over the parts of beau that her arms can’t reach until beau is completely covered, completely enveloped in her love.

beau has always been attracted to women who could break her--big, strong women whose bigness and strength almost always equated to a good, long time in the bedroom. and yasha has that in spades--probably invented it--but it sure is fuckin’ something else to know that breaking is only half of it, that the flip side is that beau can be fully contained and sheltered in yasha’s arms. bigness is a comfort as much as it is a challenge. yasha uses her size to hold and cherish just as much as she uses it to fight.

beau sinks down so that her nose is just above the surface of the water, and tries her very best to pretend she isn’t crying. the effort is abandoned when she gets out of her head and realizes yasha is very carefully and very thoughtfully soaping up her hair with thick, gentle fingers.

beau sits up a bit and spits some water from her lips. “how come you’re so good at that?”

yasha takes a moment to think, tilts beau’s head back so she can rinse the shampoo out. “zuala and i didn’t have as much time together as i wanted,” she answers, “but we made sure to treasure every moment we were allowed.” she rubs her hands together, presumably spreading conditioner over them; beau can hear the slickness of it echo through the air. “i am able to follow a god because i had a wife once,” she says, quiet and matter-of-fact, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

god.

“well, fuck.” beau closes her eyes and tries to relax her shoulders as yasha’s hands knead through her hair again. “did you--i mean, i don’t want to overstep but--it was like this? all the time?”

yasha is quiet again, patient with her feelings and beau and the combination of the two. she slows her ministrations and rests her hands on the sides of beau’s face, her thumbs tickling at beau’s ears.

“the only similarity between the love i feel for zuala and the love i feel for you is that it is coming from me,” yasha finally says. “it was like this, yes--and it wasn’t like this at all. it was different because it was her. the whole world was different because it was her, you know?”

beau nods. “hope so,” she replies. “trying to, at least.”

yasha squeezes her cheeks, presses a kiss to the top of her soapy head. she gently pushes beau underwater and scrubs her hair clean with a little more force this time. beau lays back and watches, smiles as yasha scoops a hand underwater and brushes it over her lips.

beau sits back up feeling more refreshed and loved than she ever has in her whole life.

she swirls around to face yasha, lets the water guide her back to yasha’s lap. beau hooks her legs around yasha’s torso, lets the water hold her up as she drapes yasha’s hair over her shoulders.

“your braids could use a little touch-up,” she murmurs.

yasha, so sensitive and careful about her hair, simply nods and watches as beau lets it out, making tidy piles with the ties and ribbons on the ledge. yasha’s hair billows out once the last bunch is free; in the water, she looks beautiful and serene.

beau rests her hands on either side of yasha’s face, swipes her thumbs under yasha’s eyes as they kiss. “thank you,” she says, softly, “for loving me.”

yasha sighs and kisses her again. “you make it easy, beau. you don’t have to thank me.”

“i do,” beau insists. “for now, i do.”

she directs yasha away from the wall, takes her place in the shampoo corner. it’s a little different this time--beau can’t surround yasha quite as fully, and she has to wrap her legs around yasha and float to get a good angle to wash her hair. but yasha doesn’t complain, and she rests her arms on beau’s thighs and slides her hands over her legs, soothing and present. the water never cools off and the dogs are somewhere else, and for a few quiet moments, nothing in the world exists except this tub in this tower, hidden in a smelly, dirty tavern.

/

they’re clean and laughing in the kitchen by the time the rest of the party trickles in. beau can hear jester and veth speaking at cartoonishly loud volumes, announcing themselves just in case beau and yasha are doing anything worth being interrupted.

beau smiles, grabs a spider-less bite of pancake, and squeezes yasha’s hand.

“oh, here they are,” caduceus says as they file in. he takes a deep breath and smiles at the spread of food. “what a feast.”

he disappears, probably to make some tea, and beau looks at yasha for just a moment longer before the energy is too much to ignore.

she turns and almost bursts out laughing at the sight of everyone, lined up in front of the table, watching the two of them intently. veth’s eyes are as big as saucers and jester’s are shimmering, her hands clamped over her mouth. next to her, fjord is blushing and even caleb is sporting a smile, reluctant though it may look.

“hey,” beau says. she smiles casually and she means it.

“you’re so cute!!” jester shouts, flinging her hands away from her face. “oh my god, you guys, you have to tell me everything; i’m so happy for you even though we had to sleep in that super stinky room. please tell me it was worth it.”

beau laughs, winks as she tickles yasha’s hand. “totally worth it, jes,” she promises. she gets up from the table, kisses yasha’s knuckles as she does, and gestures for jester to take her seat. “talk to yasha for a sec, okay? i left you some spider-cakes.”

beau is too focused on grabbing caleb to notice the way jester scrunches her nose.

she doesn’t catch fjord’s eye as she leads caleb out of the room and she definitely doesn’t look anywhere near veth. she just drags her cranky wizard to a corner out of eyesight of any window in the kitchen and crosses her arms.

“if you’re about to tell me everything,” caleb says, “please don’t be offended when i say that i would be happier not to hear it.”

“what? no, gross. i mean, not gross-gross, but because--you, gross, right?” beau clears her throat, gently punches caleb’s shoulder to center herself. “i don’t...wanna tell you stuff. i just wanted to do this away from everyone else.”

caleb narrows his eyes. “do what?”

beau steps forward and hugs him. there’s no hesitation or coaching this time, just a strong press of her arms, and she stays there as long as it takes for him to hug back and mean it.

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “this was….very special to me.”

“of course,” caleb mutters. “you need only ask, beauregard.”

“yeah, you say that, but it’s like--i know it, now.” to her horror, beau sniffles.

“i am glad you had a good time.”

“the best.”

“you smell very nice. thank you for bathing before hugging me.”

“i got you, dude.”

“can you let go of me now?”

“yeah, sure.” beau steps back and gives him one last shoulder squeeze. 

caleb nods and squeezes back. he snaps his fingers and frumpkin is there, leaping onto his shoulder as they walk back toward the kitchen,

[wondernimbus]

another summer morning — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

prompt: a warm bed for  @kalimagik​ and @the-hufflefluffwriter​‘s “a very harry potter summer” !

a/n: school starts next week which is why i haven’t been posting as much but ahhh i hope you guys like this !! :D

Draco loves his wife.

He loves [Y/N], so he tolerates everything she does; her tendency to accidentally smack him in the face in her sleep, her sudden (deafening) singing outbursts at random intervals during the day that tend to have him jumping right out of his skin, how she constantly keeps bringing up the idea of adopting a ferret in tribute to Draco's fourth year at Hogwarts, and, Well. This.

"Your hair smells really good," says [Y/N], murmuring the words as she props her chin on his head and cards her fingers through his hair, the same way she's been doing for the past five minutes. Draco is laying in between her legs, his back resting on her chest as they lay on their bed. Late morning sunshine filters in through where they'd forgotten to close the curtains the night before, bathing the both of them in that kind of summery glow that's just the right amount of warm. Not enough to be sticky but enough to be reminiscent of picnics in the garden and days spent out by the beach and trips to Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor.

"That's what happens when you shower," replies Draco, lifting his head to the side so that he can meet her gaze for a brief, smiling moment, before he looks back to the book he holds in his hand.

"No, really," [Y/N] insists, brushing through his strands. "It smells like apples. And it's really very soft."

Draco laughs, and without looking away from his book, says, "We use the same shampoo, darling."

"Excuse me if I'm not nearly as appreciative of my own hair," she snorts, tugging on a strand. "Honestly, love, would you rather I walk around complimenting my own hair or yours?"

"You’ll have to give me some time to think before I answer such a phenomenal question.”

"Well,” she says, tone playfully challenging. “This is all the time you get.”

Draco hums, flipping a page as he feels her fingers playing with his hair, braiding some of the platinum blond strands before letting them fall back into place again. "Truthfully, this isn't that bad," he murmurs, slightly distracted as his eyes move down the text. "Having you snuffle my hair like a rabid wolf."

She gasps dramatically, but Draco hears the laugh in her voice. She smacks his shoulder. "Did you really just call your own wife a rabid wolf?"

Draco pauses, tears his eyes away from his book once more to angle his body in a way that he can look up at her. "What are you gonna do about it?" he teases, grinning as she scoffs in exaggerated outrage.

"I could adopt a ferret," she counters, and oh, Draco narrows his eyes at her. He hates ferrets with a burning passion (likely because he'd spent a few horrible minutes as one back in his teenage years), and she knows this, too, because the fake look of anger on her face slips away as she starts giggling.

Draco wants to be annoyed, but really, watching her like this—watching this beautiful, beautiful woman who he cannot believe is his wife, throwing her head back in a loud laugh, the sunlight catching on her freckled, slightly puffy cheeks that are dusted a faint shade of pink the way they always are in the morning—Draco can't bring himself to feel anything but fondness.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" he asks, eyes catching onto the bright blue sky just outside of the windows, the birds flying in the distance. It's a nice day to go outside, maybe have a picnic.

But Draco knows her answer even before she says it. He feels the vibrations of her chest as she giggles, feels her shake her head from behind him. "It's far too hot. I'd rather stay here."

"Ah, yes. Of course you'd much rather sniff my hair," says Draco, unable to help himself from laughing.

"I am not sniffing it."

"Well, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm," she pauses, humming. Draco waits, having long lost his place in his book. "Admiring your hair," she finally settles.

He sets the book aside on the sheets, realizing that there is no way that continuing to read is a lost cause—not with him unable to tear his gaze away from her for longer than a few minutes. He turns around, smiling at the faint giggles that escape her lips, and wraps an arm around her middle, shifting a little so that they're lying side by side and Draco can fully take in all of her beautiful, morning glory: her slightly messy hair, the freckles across her cheeks, the slope of her nose, the swell of her lips, which are turned up into a smile.

"Enjoying the view?" she teases, leaning forward so that she can bump her nose against his just slightly, still smiling in that way that never fails to have Draco's heart doing little double-takes inside his chest. He lets out a small breath of laughter, leaning in to press a soft, affectionate kiss to her lips—a mere second long, and yet one that holds a subtle sort of love that could last for entire centuries.

Pulling away, he murmurs, voice hushed like he's sharing a secret, "I wish I could spend the rest of my life here. Just laying with you like this."

[Y/N] smiles, some of the humor fading as a touch of sincerity sneaks in. She closes her eyes, eyelashes sweeping against her skin, looking so calm—so at home and at peace—that Draco finds himself wishing that he could somehow bring his words to life and stay with her like this, a moment frozen in time. That he could forever have her limbs entangled with his own, bathing in the warm glow of the sunlight, looking at her.

She reaches up with one hand, palm nudging his ear as she threads her fingers through his hair. "Me too, darling."

Draco's lips curve up into a small smile. With a promise of a bright, summer's day ahead of them as they lay in bed holding each other, the summer breeze filtering in through the open windows, there really is nothing more to say other than—"I love you."

[Y/N] hums, quiet and comforting as she leans in and presses another kiss to his lips. "And I love you."

It's quiet for a while, just the two of them sharing in that sense of serenity, Draco soaking in the touch of her hands and her subtle smell of flowers.

And then, after a while, he hears her murmur, "Draco?"

"Yes, love?" He peels his eyes open and finds her staring at him, eyes alight and a tell-tale hint of a smile on her lips.

"I get that you despise them," she says softly, that tiny smile on her face growing with every word, "But ferrets would make nice pets."

general taglist: @dancing-in-the-moonlight3 @kalimagik @alittletoomanyobsessions @hariosborn @obsessedwithrandomthings @emcchi @sxrensxngwrites @enjoying-fantasyland21 @masterofthedarkness @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @bforbroadway @hufflefluff-writer @summer-writes @chaotic-fae-queen @firewhisky-kisses @dracosvftie @heloisedaphnebrightmore @idont-knowrn @dreamer821 @peachesandpinks @slytherinprincess03​ @chocfrogaddict @nebulablakemurphy​ ​@kpopgirlbtssvt @teheharrypotter​

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Hello there 💖 Love your writing and just finished yakuza 0, and if you're up for it, I'm in the mood for something different. I love Majima, but I'm craving drama atm. What if he and his badass beauty of a s/o are getting it on and he calls Makoto's name by mistake? New bae is sweet, makes his lunches, but is NO Makoto! How shook is she? Can the couple reconcile or is that the deal breaker?

This is a terrific prompt... I’ve been dealing with some roller coaster emotions as of late so I appreciate a drama req. Pls be patient and I’d love to write this. TYSM for requesting <3

Mistaken Makoto

Reader is Female

Mild smut, angst, mentions of trauma

***WARNING: YAKUZA 0 SPOILERS***

What a day. If she didn't stay and help up, who would?It had been this way all week, and Y/N had only realized how emotionally and physically drained she truly was at the end of it all, which couldn't be more ideal because nothing is worse than realizing how thanklessly overworked one is in the very midst of the issue itself. Thankfully she now had a couple of days off to decompress and relax and the first things on her mind were a quick snack, a cup of tea and hopefully some pleasures of the flesh with her all too irresistible man. She desperately needed some bliss to tear her from her incredibly demanding lack of work/life balance. Good thing her man was more than understanding.

They didn't reside together, but Majima's flat was a lot closer (and fancier) than her place, so she typically crashed there in the evenings especially after late work days. Her apartment was more of a storage unit for her belongings and less urgently needed clothes as she usually spent her nights at his place. Though he'd been pushing the idea of moving in together for months, it was just so much work to pack her stuff and close out her lease and with her long hours as of late, she didn't have the energy to seal this lingering loose end. She planned on it, but something else held her back from making it official. She hadn't even had the time to analyze her trepidation, it was just there, and something far more easily avoided. Money wasn't an issue, so she couldn't complain. She'd get around to it soon enough.

It was a damp, sultry evening... an hours' long rain had set a sexy mist in the air and with the low lights of Kamurocho illuminating her quick and safe walk home, she felt like a seductive evening at home was just what the doctor ordered. Majima had texted her only a couple hours prior, hinting at the same theme as he'd just settled some big work things and wanted to relax. He'd offered a lovely night on the town but because Y/N was stuck at work just a little later than usual, a hot night at home seemed like the move. He'd warned that he was settling in for a nap, and to wake him when she arrived.

Her plan was to forego the food and tea, strip down and slip into bed with him... he loved being awakened by her eager warmth.

After locking the door, she dropped her coat and shimmied out of each of her professional garments, slowly sauntering into the bedroom from which only a dim light from the bathroom shone due to the door being slightly ajar.

What a marvel --- his back was to her, his irezumi slightly visible in the dim light and partial obscurity of blanket. No matter how many times she'd seen it wet, dry, slightly irritated from her nails raking its flesh, it still made her skin tingle. She loved Majima Goro through and through and was willing to do anything for him. He treated her like a Queen and still offered her the world if she needed anything. He respected her independence, always offered to support her if she so desired, and was in turn endlessly grateful for her love and commitment to him. Many a time she wondered how in the fuck that she was The One to tame a yakuza boss... but she had. It was so natural and uncomplicated, she never batted an eye. It was sparks in the air the first time they met and every day and night since.

By the time she reached the bed, she was beautifully nude and ready. As much as she needed him and his attentions, she wanted to at least begin by lavishing him with attention while rousing him from his slumber. It drove him crazy.

After slipping beneath the linens, pressed against him, she kissed his shoulder, slowly and deliberately and then made her way down the back of his arm while slipping her hand along his back and over his hip, gripping the bone. He groaned, rolling on his back as she snuck up to his ear.

"Mmmm, I'm home...."

No further words necessary, he wrapped his arms around her as she straddled him, kissing and biting his lobe, down his neck, stopping to suck along his clavicle. His hands found their way to her hips as he gripped them and urged them to rock back and forth, but she wanted to prolong it. She needed to tease a little.

His eye remained closed, his breathing grew heavier as he gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. She adored it.

Leaning in to kiss his neck, she traveled up to his lips, leaving quick and desperate pecks along them before sinking herself on him. She rubbed his pecs delicately before leaning back and gripping his thighs, preparing to ride him. Just as she'd begun to establish a momentum, his hands gripped her forearms, his eye still shut tightly, lips parted. She raised herself, holding steady, slowly sinking down on him again just as he moaned... "I've missed you..."

She loved it when he mused in the throes of it. She bounced a few times, leaning in to kiss him again, harder, taking his bottom lip and kissing his chin... leaning in further to whisper, "I've missed you too..."

He slid his hand up the back of her neck, gripping and keeping her close. He turns his head, eye still screwed tightly shut as he kisses her cheek. She rolls her hips again. He rubs his lips along her lobe, sighing.

"Mmmm..."

She slams her hips harder, urging him to chase his release as he continues to keep her pinned to him, gritting his teeth. She loves his scent, his sweat, she wants to lap up every bit of it.

"....Mmmma..."

She bites at his clavicle, sucking tenderly as she continues pumping him with her entire body, just wanting to make him feel so good for no reason but adoration and appreciation for him... She just wants to hear him moan and watch his face contort as he fully surrenders.

She sits up, one last slam as she tightens herself around him. She descends, pulsing on him, cradling his head as his lips part one more time. He exhales, groaning.

"....Makoto...."

Screeeeeeeeeeech.

Y/N's heart, stomach, hell, fucking everything dropped. Without a second thought, she pressed her hands on each side of her along the bed and dismantled herself, rising.

His eye flew open, his head frantically turning, searching for his girlfriend, who was promptly planning on redressing and bolting before the tears could burst out of her into every direction. What the fuck?!

"Oy!" He shouts, sitting up, still registering.

She's already made it out of the bedroom, picking up every piece of her clothing trail and hurriedly putting them back on with the urgency of a burning building.

She's grabbing her bag off of the counter as he barges into the kitchen, wrapped in the linens. "OY! Where the hell ya think yer goin'?"

She takes a deep breath and turns around to face him, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm leaving. Fuck off."

"What in the hell for? What's the matter?!"

ARE YOU SERIOUS.

She steps forward and shoves him with a single, open hand. Bag still in her other hand. "FOR CALLING ME 'MAKOTO' WHILE I'M FUCKING ON TOP OF YOU. ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

He catches himself, grabbing the counter and throws his head in his other hand. "Jesus Christ, I'm a little drunk, babe. I'm sorry..."

"Yeah, great. Well, you can be sorry alone. I'm going home."

"Nah c'mon don't be like that, it was a mistake, I love ya and ya know that, don'tcha?"

"You know honestly, I'm not sure. If you're thinking of her while I'm giving it to you, giving you my fucking body, my affection, my time, I think the mistake is my being in this entire fucking equation. I must be insane. I knew there was a reason I wasn't ready to move out of my place yet...."

"Nah babe it's not like that, I swear. I'm really sorry, I know that didn't feel good but I was in such a deep sleep I really wasn't thinkin---"

"---ABOUT ME. You were thinking of another woman. While I'm here. Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much I love you, how you might as well have shoved your tanto straight into my chest? That would've felt better than to hear another woman's name come out of your fucking mouth..."

Majima realized this wasn't a conversation he could charm his way out of. All of the times he came home battered, bruised and bleeding? Yeah after a few minutes of patching, he could calm her down. All of the times he was stuck at the office late and hadn't eaten in hours, she'd bring him something home cooked, knowing full well that none of his favorite shops were open. She'd beg him to come and get some sleep but he'd assure her that he'd get it done and be fine. She'd take it all in stride, this was the man she loved, it was par for the course.

But being called another woman's name, one that held such a crushing significance in his life? Nah.

"...I'm leaving. I need space. Leave me alone for a few days." His eye flew open as he nearly tripped over the blanket, dashing to her and grabbing her arms.

He knelt, looking up at her pleadingly.

"Y/N, baby, please. Please. Yer everythin' ta me. Please don't go..."

She sighed, too tired to even fight the tears. She let them roll.

"I can't do this, Goro. Maybe you love me, but obviously I'm not everything to you. Maybe it's unfair for me to demand to be, but it's what you are to me, and I can't compromise. I won't find myself in another love in which my feelings aren't matched."

"They are matched, babe. Please just stay so we can talk about it. If ya don't wanna stay after that, fine, but please gimme a minute to explain..."

"Goro, what's there to explain? If she's still in such a dominant place in your mind, then what's left for me? I can't share your affection like that. This isn't gonna work. Am I supposed to get over it and hope it doesn't happen again? What do you take me for?"

He choked, taking a deep breath. He dropped the Kansai-ben.

He looked up at her slowly, his face changing, his voice low and serious."I cared a lot for her. I haven't spoken with her in almost 20 years. There is nothing there. Sometimes I'm plagued with nightmares from the events of those years. Between my captivity and the situation in which I met her. I wish her nothing but the best. I have moved on since then, clearly. She only means anything to me because she is a good person. I'm not in love with her, I'm in love with you, and only you."

Y/N swallowed hard, taking his words into consideration... soothed but still feeling an uneasiness.

"You said her name while you were balls deep inside me. How are you going to explain that away? Be fucking honest with me. You have one minute."

"Makoto and I were never physically intimate! She isn't an ex-girlfriend or former love or anything like that! It was an honest mistake, it had nothing to do with the fact that you and I were in the middle of it, okay? I was just waking up, babe..."

"You were conscious. You grabbed me, you kissed me..."

"My mind was still out of it. Come on, I'm telling you the truth. I love you, Y/N. I love you like crazy. Makoto has absolutely nothing to do with my life now. I was just having a fucked-up dream."

Y/N set her bag down and draped her arms around him lazily as he hugged her hips.

"Look, I don't know how much I ever told you about it but here's the brakes: I was told to kill her and if I did, I'd be let back into the family, which was all I wanted at the time. You know all about my Grand days and that tiny apartment and the fact that all I did was run a cabaret club and get followed everywhere I went and my direct boss at the time would just slap me around like a fucking puppy and throw wrenches in everything I did, right?"

She nodded.

"I was told that I'd be in good standing and that I'd get my life back if I did my first hit. I was supposed to take out some ruthless scumbag that trafficked women. It was a no-brainer. I hunt my target down only to find that this ruthless scumbag was a blind woman who had no idea why in the fuck anyone would be after her. You can only imagine my confusion and why I did not kill her. But I was then of course risking worse things than death by keeping her alive and hidden away, all the while lying to my boss. Once he wised up, he tried to kill me, her and the guy she worked for at the time who was a solid guy. I watched him die. I got roughed up time and again, had to find her, make sure they didn't kill her. She was totally blameless and a survivor of the trafficking itself. This woman went through so much and still never batted an eye at her poor hand of cards. Yes, I wound up caring for her very deeply and after all was said and done, I could've told her how I felt, maybe she felt the same, who knows. Instead, I wanted her to be happy and to have nothing to do with me... because at the time, I only created more and more enemies as I climbed the ladder and I knew I couldn't keep her safe forever. I knew that at that time in my life, I had to focus on where I was going, I couldn't drag an innocent person into my mess of a life just because I had feelings for her. I did what I thought was the right thing then and I stand by it now... and where I'm at now, finally, is a place in which I can finally be with the woman I love -- you -- and I don't have to keep you away. I'm not climbing anymore... I'm no longer a real target and neither is anyone close to me."

Y/N nodded again, feeling relieved... but sad. So sad. Sad for being angry at him and sad for his loss... she had no idea the extent of what Makoto was to him and had only assumed the usual out of fear of bringing up such a heavy conversation... but she was glad to finally have it all out in the open.

"Alright... I know I shouldn't ask this but I need to..."

"Anything, babe. What do you want to know?"

"Do you wish you had been with her anyway? I know comparing myself to her is nonsensical but---"

"---Could I love you like I did her?"

"Yes."

"...No. Because the way I felt for her is different. You have to understand, I had to fight dozens and I mean dozens of men to protect her. She kept getting nabbed, I'd have to fight my way through buildings full of armed men to get her out alive. She got shot and almost died. I thought she had at first. It looked grim. So I guess in a way, the way I felt for her then is that I just wanted to protect the only truly good person I ever knew in my life... at that point. How do I feel about her now? I just hope she's happy... and I believe she is."

"You said you haven't spoken to her in 20 years?"

"That's a half truth. When we went through all that shit, she was blind. She never knew what I looked like, she only knew my voice. Years later I ended up in Sotenbori tying up some loose ends that led me to her shop and she didn't realize it was me, telling a perfect stranger how she was happily married with a kid. I was glad to hear it, you know? That was it. I just hope her life now is great because the first half wasn't, you know what I mean? That's it."

Y/N closed her eyes tightly and breathed in slowly, trying to make sense of her emotional state.

"Goro-kun..."

He looked up for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Y/N-chan?"

She sighed once again and carded her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends, trying to stifle a laugh. Though she was still mildly hurt, the burn of her fury had subsided... she was grateful to have gotten a full discourse out of him and now felt almost foolish for being so (understandably) upset. She all but worshiped this man... he has always been good to her, holding her up on a pedestal, treating her with the respect and care that one only does when they truly and deeply... love and care for another.

She realized it's not a competition, Makoto wasn't "some other woman" or even a threat to her... she was a member of his past, a traumatic and murky one at that. She realized in that moment that it's okay that Majima loved another woman (and more, of course) before her... look at him.

But in this moment for a time before and likely to come, Majima Goro is hers and only hers. He did the right and likely painful thing by scratching at the scab to let her in, to tell her what happened and how it applies to his life now... to give her a perspective on her importance to him now, in comparison to what he's endured. It's a scab because the events of his past never truly heal or leave his psyche... he's just learned to live with and in spite of them, in many thanks to her.

Her unconditional love keeps him grounded, her presence adds to his purpose and for her, the same.

She was indescribably appreciative that the gave her a part of him in his honesty... and she would never take it for granted again. Walking out the door in anger would be, in her eyes, taking it for granted.

He nuzzled his face against her stomach, cradling her hips, giving her all the time she needed to cycle through her thoughts and feelings. God, what a man.

She gripped his chin and pulled him up to his feet, slipping an arm around him, re-tucking the blanket around his hips.

"Let's go to sleep... and bring back the Kansai-ben. I miss it already."

He laughed his usual insane, multi-octave laugh and grabbed her face, kissing her lips, nose, cheek and forehead before ripping the blanket off of him, wrapping it around her and scooping her up, carrying her back to the bedroom.

[wintervvidow]

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback.  friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST 

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience. 

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost. 

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind. 

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed. 

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky. 

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested. 

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.  

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you." 

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers. 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation. 

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria. 

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky. 

Flashback: 

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

 The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised. 

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time. 

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

[let-them-read-fics]

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

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5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile. 

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please." 

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile. 

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone." 

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think? 

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous. 

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing. 

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else. 

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow. 

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you. 

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please." 

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood. 

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby. 

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler. 

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face. 

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long." 

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks." 

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect. 

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her. 

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore. 

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match. 

--

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring. 

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence. 

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd. 

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now." 

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture. 

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up. 

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away. 

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium. 

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things. 

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult. 

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong. 

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened. 

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction. 

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her. 

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together. 

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk. 

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that. 

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it." 

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this. 

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare. 

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork. 

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo. 

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by. 

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers. 

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how. 

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking. 

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over. 

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with." 

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan. 

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin." 

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower. 

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall. 

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose. 

"Very much so, yes." 

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then." 

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug. 

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm. 

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets. 

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused. 

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year. 

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile. 

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row. 

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible. 

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time. 

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance -- 

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off. 

And, of course, you can't forget the actors. 

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes. 

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back. 

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are. 

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. 

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened. 

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look. 

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat. 

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her." 

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago. 

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow. 

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times. 

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion. 

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again. 

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all. 

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together. 

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know. 

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing. 

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff." 

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course." 

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare." 

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief. 

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss. 

"What about Jeong?" 

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night." 

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to. 

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers. 

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?" 

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer." 

"I can totally see that." 

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips. 

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much." 

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing." 

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course." 

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that. 

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself. 

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more. 

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever." 

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time. 

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit. 

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours. 

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it. 

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again. 

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager. 

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle. 

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you." 

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds. 

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on. 

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that." 

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me." 

"Aww, don't be like that, baby." 

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens. 

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again. 

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement. 

"Good, because there's more where that came from." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us." 

[elidelochans]

For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?

ELUCIEN WEEK

DAY 7: FREE CHOICE

Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.

TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse

The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.

Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.

When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.

“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”

“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”

There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”

Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”

With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.

Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"

The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."

"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."

Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.

Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.

Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.

"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.

The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.

"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.

"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.

"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.

Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"

"The past."

Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.

"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"

"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.

It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”

Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”

Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.

"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."

For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.

"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.

Mate.

The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.

Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.

“Elain?”

She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.

“You’re mates."

“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”

elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod

[talkfastromance4]

when i’m dreaming--calum hood oneshot

yeah so i’m going through something so this is very, very self-indulgent. 

word count: 2.3k

warnings: drinking linked a little with coping, going through a depressive low, best friend!calum

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

***

Calum notices something is wrong the minute she steps outside. He was about to take a drink of his white claw, but his eyes went to her nails when she pulled Crystal in for a hug. She typically paints them to match her mood and today they’re opalescent pink, barely noticeable but still there. In plain sight but still visible while she secretly wants to be invisible.

She smiles and cracks jokes with everyone she says hello to then when she steps in front of Calum, he sees the sadness in her eyes. They’ve been best friends for awhile now, they’ve shared secrets, stories of first loves and heartaches, their fears, their wildest dreams. But there was always something she kept hidden, tucked away in a box welded shut.

“Hey bud,” she sighs.

“Hey short stuff,” he grins playfully pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around him and he makes sure to give her an extra tight squeeze.

“I’m not that short,” she grumbles in his chest.

“You’re shorter than me,” he reminds rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. Although her arms are loose around him he can feel the tension in her shoulders that she’s carrying.

“Stop hogging her! I haven’t seen her in weeks!” Ashton exclaims and Calum pulls away.

He knows it was too soon to break the hug but to keep up with her own façade he doubts anyone else sees, he does it.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared into the desert for all those weeks,” she jokes rising on her toes to loop her arms around Ashton’s neck.

He gives her a big bear hug that lifts her a few inches off the ground, Calum sees her nails digging into her arm as she squeezes him.

“Had to recenter myself, you should try it sometime,” Ashton teases right back. As if she was shocked, she removes herself from the hug then accepts a bottle of Mike’s from Luke.

“I can take something stronger than this, Hemmings,” she takes a large chug regardless.

“Yeah? Like tequila? I got some limes,” he jerks his thumb behind him towards the drink table.

“I said stronger not deadly. You know I can’t handle tequila,” she scrunches her nose.

Everyone else laughs but alarms are going off in Calum’s head.

“Yeah, the floor of my Tesla doesn’t like tequila either,” Michael chimes in with a tray of shots.

“I told you to pull over,” she shrugs lifting up a shot. She takes a whiff and nods in approval at his selected alcohol choice.

“I was going 75 on the freeway!”

“And that’s why I threw up. Ready?” she lifts her glass.

Calum meets her eyes as over the hands of their friends as Ashton gives an impromptu speech about friendship and long rides. He wasn’t really paying attention because when their eyes locked, he saw the panic, he saw the fear of whatever was going on in her head.

**

The next time he sees her is at the movies. Her eyes are darker along with her nails that are now a hunter’s green; camouflaged but still visible. While they’re waiting in line for snacks, he lifts her hand in his and runs his thumb over the color.

“This is a pretty color, I’ve never seen it on you before,” he says.

“Yeah, um…wanted to try something different,” she shrugs. “Do you want the blue icee?”

“Is that even a question?” he raises a brow, and she laughs.

Once they’re settled in the seats the previews start. Calum opens up the bags of sweet and sour treats while she opens the boxes of milk duds. The large bowl of popcorn (with extra butter) is settled between them, long red straws sticking out of their frozen drinks.

Throughout the whole movie, it’s an action romantic comedy, Calum keeps glancing at her. He watches her fingers disappear in the popcorn bowl, her hunter’s green nails appearing black in the dark theater. Calum’s seen enough movies to know this moment is foreshadowing the darkness she’s slipping into. He’s preparing himself for the fall but he’s not entirely sure she is.

**

Two weeks have gone by and he hasn’t seen her since the movie. Their schedules didn’t align so he decided to surprise her with takeout from her favorite Asian restaurant and chocolate cake from her favorite bakery.

When he opens the door, he hears Friends playing on her tv and he finds her horizontal on the couch. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head, her arms wrapped around her torso, her black nails clutching the fabric.

Calum braces himself for what he’s walking into, sets the food on her counter and crouches in front of her. He pulls her hoodie back a little so he can see her face a bit better, her eyes are distant and staring off behind him.

“Hey,” he says softly then touches her hand. It’s very cold. “Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name does she finally look at him. Her eyes have filled and spilled with her tears in a matter of seconds. He links her fingers through his.

“Hi,” she mouths, her voice barely registering.

“Is this about…him?” he asks delicately.

About a year ago he chipped away at the welding on the box. He knows it involves a guy. He knows it’s about bad timing. He knows it’s about deep emotions.

She nods and the tears erupt more. She buries her face in her hands then adds another layer by hiding in the pillow.

“Nope, nope, hey,” he tugs on her arms. She’s pliant and allows him to drag her in a sitting position. He takes the place where her head was then brings her onto his lap. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He murmurs and pulls her hoodie down so he can rub at her hair.

She sobs loudly into his neck. Calum holds her as tight as he can, murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her sobs would subside, but he wouldn’t let go until she did. She’s very good at keeping her emotions at bay and even better at keeping people further away from her harbor. She doesn’t ask for help often, she doesn’t open up too much and when she does it’s always the footnoted version.

Three episodes of Friends later, her hold lessens, she gives a big sniff and peels herself away from Calum. He uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe at her tears and nose.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “I brought food. I’ll heat it up for you.”

She nods and falls back onto the couch. He rubs her knee then heads into the kitchen. When the food is prepared on plates he brings it to her and she takes it, scarfing down the first few bites heartily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally speaks when her plate is empty.

“I know,” he nods looking over at her until she meets his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

Calum ends up staying the night, his mind reeling from what the history is with this mystery guy. His thoughts get away from him as he stares at the ceiling above the couch. Was he some celebrity that kept her under the radar and broke her heart repeatedly? A Prince from some far-off country that got her hopes up and crushed them again and again?

He’s tossing and turning until he hears the shower turn on. Sad songs play over and over on her speakers, her voice singing along with the yearning words. Ghostin’ by Ariana and When the Party’s Over by Billie replay one after another.

She’s really hurting.

Calum bounds off the couch and opens the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he makes sure his voice is a little louder than the music.

A sniff. “Yeah?” her voice is thick.

“Just want you to know I’m here,” he shuts the door and sits next to the shower.

His heart aches when he hears her crying again, the vocals echo and bounce off the tiles. Her sadness fills the room just as it’s filled in the hidden box of the guy who’s making her feel this way.

Four more repeats go by and the shower is finally shut off. Calum scrambles off the floor, sees her tug the towel from the door of the shower. Her shadow figure wraps it around herself and she opens the door. Her skin is red from the hot water, as are her eyes and cheeks from crying more tears. He grabs another towel and helps dry her hair while she stands there avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s been five years, why do I still feel like this?” she asks quietly.

“It hurts the most when it meant something.”

He left the bathroom after he dried and brushed her hair then waited for her in her bedroom. There’s pictures on her desk from high school. Her and some guy at prom. Her and the same guy a little bit older posing in a selfie on a couch, drunken smiles on their faces. Her and the same guy a little older again posed outside.

This must be from that box. She’s cracked it open and Calum is staring at some of the pieces that have broken her wholly.

“His name’s Henry,” she explains suddenly behind him.

Calum turns to her voice. The drastic change from the happy girl in the photos to the sad girl before him startles him. He remains silent to let her speak or to go into silence again. She moves onto her bed, sitting in the center and tucks her legs against her chest.

“We never dated. But we were always…together. Together in the physical sense for four years,” she continues. Calum joins her cautiously on the bed and listens. “Back and forth always. After every relationship we fell back into each other. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had, and it wasn’t even a real one.

“We cared about each other, and…I think he loved me. Time wasn’t on our side. It was too much or too little, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just when I think I’ve let go; I dream of him. Then he’s on my mind for days. And now this time…” she shakes her head and Calum pulls her against him. “I went on socials and I found out that he um…he’s a dad now. And I feel so stupid because that could have been me if we kept what we had. I feel stupid because a part of me wanted it to be me.”

Calum doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of their relationship, but four years of physical affection and a rock to lean on, that’s a lot of history. He also doesn’t fully understand how this guy didn’t make it official with Y/N. She’s the perfect best friend with a big heart.

Calum wishes he knew her in school because he would have been the one to take her to prom. He would have been the one take her to movies and dinners and surprise her with flowers. He would have made it official rather than keep her guessing.

“I’m really going through it and I don’t know how to get out,” she whispers sadly.

“I think…” Calum heaves a big sigh and kisses her wet head. “I think you’re just cracking the surface of breaking free. I can tell he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him. Even if he never said it, you’ll always be a part of him just like he’ll be a part of you. Someone that important won’t just poof away.”

“But I want him to, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart. I’ll help you in any way I can, okay?”

“You’re so understanding and you’re so good, but I don’t want to cry over another guy when you’re here.”

“That’s what best friends do.”

She turns her head and gazes up at him. He notices the storm in her eyes aren’t as dark, her lips are chapped from the cracking of memories she spilled out.

“Calum, you’re more than my best friend.”

He hears a deeper truth in her statement, and it causes his breathing to quicken. The subtle yet very noticeable flick of her eyes to his lips causes him to react. He gives her a quick peck, but that smallest touch sent an enormous shock through his system.

They settle against her pillows, the kiss wasn’t awkward, but it filled them both with questions. Questions that will be answered at a different time because right now he wants to hear this most vulnerable part of her life. She takes his hand in hers first and plays with his fingers while she talks.

He makes comments and asks questions to try and understand a bit more. Calum kisses her head when her voice starts to shake. Hours go by and the sky starts to lighten, birds are awakening.

“Hey,” she says right as he’s about to fall asleep. They talked all night, but she quieted down about twenty minutes.

“Hm?” he opens his eyes.

“We match.”

He looks down at their intertwined fingers when she taps on his nail. His polish is chipped away from chewing on a hangnail then smiles at the black color. He lifts their hands and kisses their knuckles.

“I feel what you feel.”

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I felt you slipping. I can sense your emotions when no one else can, and I guess I painted my nails subconsciously because I didn’t want you to be alone in the dark,” he explains. She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she really fell asleep this time.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be this bad again.”

“If you are, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

“Cal?”

“Hmm?” he sighs. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. He doesn’t want her out of his arms.

“When I’m dreaming tonight it will be of you.”

**

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