#And they would continue to pretend to get along because both of them need two-fronts in war in order to defeat Aufin

[tamisdava2]

@themousefromfantasyland @ariel-seagull-wings Alright, by democratic votes we've got a winner, it's Grigoriy.

Alright, now the next poll will be about Grigoriy pseudonym, if I'll ever manage to come up with good pseudonyms to choose from.

Psst, @themousefromfantasyland @ariel-seagull-wings @vanilla0chinchilla @granny-griffin @giugirl743, another poll with name suggestions to help me to name OC.

Ask whatever question you want if you need additional information about the OC.

[mysinsforventi]

~ Lyney x f. reader Headcanons ~

(reader ISN'T traveller!!)

+ 18 (All characters in this are ADULTS!!) (Minors DNI!!)

Warnings: some lyney x reader x lynette (no incest!! Just sharing YOU!!), angst, anxiety mentioned, fatui lyney, blood mentioned, smut, oral sex,  public sex, voyeurism, sex toys, hickeys, handcuffs, blindfold, dirty talk, a lot of kinks mentioned, control-freak lyney, dom lyney, sub reader, (let me know if I forgot something~)

~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~

(Just something that came to my mind! That's all just my opinion! Feel free to disagree but don't come for me! Please enjoy~ ♡ )

~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~

~💜~ SFW: ~💜~

- gives you a LOT of flowers

- doesn't mind pda in public (just don't do anything infront of father!)

- obsessed with kissing your hand (he is such a charmer lmao )

- while you walk no matter where to, wants to hold hands with you

- often let's you wear his hat, to him it's a symbol that you belong to him

- involves you in his magic tricks sometimes

- gets you lot's of suprises and gifts

- nicknames like: ma cherie, love, my lady

- loves to make you blush and fluestered

- a tease!

- even tho he is the 'playfull type' he has his moments where he is very serious

- talking about the past, angst topics and so one

- will stop talking when he realises that you started crying or fell asleep

- few minutes later he is back to his usual self

- likes to watch the stars with you

- you two have some secrets that he didn't even tell lynette or anyone else

- lyney can't sleep by himself, either you or lynette need to sleep by his side

- a journey geting to know the 'real him'

- Always complains how the morning is not right if he doesn't get to see you

- Always reserves a front seat for you in his his magic shows

- Never makes you pay anything, you have to trick him into taking your money lmao

- If you haven ightmares he would show you a magic trick and tell you a story to cheer you up

- Counts cats with you till you're deep asleep

- Gives you kisses on the forhead before going back to sleep himself

- very clingy in the morning, doesn't want to let you out of bed and hugs you tightly

- with you he actually laughs a lot, but it's his real laugh not his 'show-stage laugh'

- he wouldn't even notice until freminet would point it out

- lyney can get a bit jelaous if you spend to much time with one of his siblings

- As happy as he is to see his siblings make new friends and come out of their shell with you

- Sometimes lyney just wants you to himself, after all you are HIS partner

- In that times he hugs you from behind, tilts your head to him and kisses you on the lips infront of everyone

- making lynette complain to you geting a room lmao

~💜~💜~💜~

- One time you confused lynette for lyney as they practised for one of their tricks

- It was hilarious because lynette wanted to mess a bit with her brother, you known just tease him a bit

- So she played along, pretending to be lyney lmao

- Lyney walked into their living room just to you sitting on lynettes lap, cuddling and laughing with each other

- The man pouts as he walks up to you both, "Ahem!! I see you STILL can't tell us apart mhh? May I say that I'M THE REAL LYNEY HERE?!", he pouts, glaring at his sister

- "You're doing a bad job at showing it brother.. My dear love here would've totally fallen for me if you hadn't open their eyes~", lynette continues to imitate her brother perfectly, all without raising an eyebrow

- You were a blushing mess, jumping out of her lap and apologizing, you really did fall for that omg-

- lyney would just take your hand, bringing you to his room, wanting alone time with you now

~ 💜 ~ Fatui Lyney ~ 💜 ~

- You were aware of them beeing with the fatui but you didn't mind

- You just would be worried whenever lyney had to go and do his missions, wishing for his save return

- If you had a feeling it would be dangerous you decided to join him on his mission, going as his assistent

- of course, not in any record of the fatui your name appeared, so no one would know about your little help here and there, the siblings made sure about that

- and this whole situation leads to quiet the argument between lyney & you

- lyney wants to see you save! Like he wants to see lynette save!

- He got his delusion because his anxiety of leting lynette going alone to missions was killing him

- Now with you it's the same thing.. even if he would be there to protect you, sometimes it puts more pressure on him then doing good having you around on missions

- So you decided to only join if it was really 'dangerous' in your eyes

- Another reason is, lyney didn't tell you, he doesn't want you to see him like this

- It's the side he hates the most about him

- All the blood, the cold gaze in his eyes, the bitterness, he didn't like it and he didn't want lynette or you to see him like this

- You only deserve to see good things, beautiful things

~ 💜 ~ Sleepovers ~ 💜 ~

- sleepovers in their house (with lynette & freminet)

- them sneaking you at night into their house lmao

- with 'father' beeing one of the fatui habringers things aren't that easy okay-

- and sneaking you in isn't either

- first since lyneys & lynettes room is on the first floor, right next to the coffee shop..

// (( - (yes they share a room, because they can't stand to be apart for to long!) (Please don't make this weird! It's suppose to be a wholesome sibling moment! ♡ )) //

- sneaking into their room was a bad idea because some drunkards or noisy people from the coffee shop might call the guards on you.. mistaken you for a thief or a stalker..

- SOOO usually: You go to fremintes room which is right next to the siblings room, his window is a bit more hidden to the public view

- You knock twice, having your own knock-signals was lyneys idea! (please they even have their own sign-language! )

- freminte would open the window to his room, leting you climb in while he was going to tell the twins about your arrival

- freminte returing to his room with twins

- freminete closing his window, mumbling how cold it is but he is still happy to see you :)

- lynette und lyney both hug you gently as a greating

- lyney hugging you a bit longer, just a bit thighter, acting as if he hadn't seen you just hours ago at one of his magic shows

- after that you would sleepovers in lyney's & lynettes'a room

- freminete would join too, leaving early tho because introvert things and such-

- it always ends up with you sleeping in the middle somehow

- lyney cuddling to your one side, lynette to your other

- lynette purrs actually while falling asleep

- she loves it when you pet her head

- lyney beeing all pouty of not geting head-pats too

- "don't you think that is unfair? You have a great magican laying right next to you, I'll purr for you too you know?!", he wants your attention so badly..

- you give this a soft laugh and gently caressed over his head with your other hand

- this was also the first time you heard lynette laugh, it wasn't loud and not long but you would never forget how pretty she looked with a smile on her face

- lyney and lynette weren't open with that to just anyone, you are indeed a lucky one and you would treasure it forever

~💜~ NSFW: ~💜~

- if lyney & you want some privat time you two go 'usually' in your teapot..

- with usually I actually mean rarely lmao

- lyney is very much the risky, playfull type of guy

- he loves public sex, it's a showman's thing

- he loves all attention on him

- so most times you fuck somewhere in public

.. (the opera house, underwater in some quiet secluded area, on of the ruin-parts near the water of fontain-city, in the fontain at night, on one of the thrones in the gardens of the opers house, heck he did you even in their own house..)

- lynette & freminete were both out at that time! But usually you don't fuck there!

- lynette often tells you two to get a hotel room lmao (not that you two didn't do that, everytime 'father' is back.. YOU DO!!)

- he is a tease, with beeing a tease edging & overstimulation comes too, on you most likely

- he wouldn't mind the other way around but he is more comfortable with beeing a dom

- he likes having everything under his control, a magican needs always to be in control after all

- wouldn't mind toys but do you really need them when you got his fingers & tongue already??

- lyney is amazing at both, oral and fingering

- he brings you to heaven & back

- A dirty talker and sweet whisperer, he can say such dirty shit but gives you the sweetest compliments seconds later

- The type who would use a vibrator on you in public just to mess with you

- his chuckle and smirk send you.. why so hot??

- He has a lot of kinks, blindfolds & handcuffs are up there for sure

- would love to tie you up, blindfold you to show you his new magic~ (sorry-)

- After a mission was very dangerous or stressfull, he would go very rough on you

- It's a need for him to feel you close by, letting out all the pressure of keeping you save

- Leaves hickeys and bitemarks all over your body during that night

- Tells you how much he loves you over and over again

- His stamina isn't anything special but in those nights he would go all night, overstimulating himself

- That doesn't mean he couldn't go all night if he really would want to/you want to~

~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~💜~

(I'll make an extra nsfw headcanon list for lyney, there is to much lmao! Hope you enjoyed! ♡ )

[bee-nutauthor]

jealous jordan? your choice if you wanna spice it up :)

word count: less than 1k

Green wasn't a color Jordan ever thought they would wear and it was one they didn't wear well. How could they, when you seemed to smile at all the wrong people, wasting your time with them instead of spending time with Jordan?

Okay so maybe the two of you hadn't started off on the right foot. But Jordan had made up for it, by going out of their way to help you with projects for class, with bringing you a cup of hot coffee or tea when you had to stay up late, with making sure they kept the creeps away from you at parties. They always made time for you, and you up and dipped on them the moment some guy or girl decided they wanted a chance to slip into your pants.

When you came back in tears, or annoyed, at falling to another fuckboy or fuckgirls schemes, Jordan was there to listen to you, to make fun of them, all while holding back the strong urge to point out to you that they would never treat you that way. That they wanted more than to get into those incredibly tight jeans of yours. They wanted to get into your heart.

Your eyes seemed to go right over them. It was infuriating. Jordan wasn't sure how much longer they could stand this, how much longer they could pretend it wasn't eating up at them from the inside. Presently, the plastic cup in Jordan's hand crinkled as they watched you chatting up the boy in front of you that had decided to come say hello to you both. Jordan smiled tightly, nodding their head along to the conversation before they decided they could no longer stand watching you slide your arm up the boy's shoulder.

Jordan walked off, needing to refill their cup. They didn't expect the freshman boy- Dylan, was his name?- to tag after them. “Hey, I uh, actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Me?” Jordan arched their brow.

“Yea,” Dylan breathed out. “Wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Jordan looked at Dylan's eager face, to over where you were, watching the two of them. Suddenly, a devious idea took place in Jordan's mind. If you had made Jordan jealous all this time, maybe Jordan could do the same to you. Just a little bit. Jordan leaned in. “Sure.” They whispered before kissing Dylan.

It was short and sweet, to the point. Jordan kept looking at you as they kissed Dylan. Your face morphed between shock, anger, and then hurt. When Jordan parted from Dylan who had been a sloppy kisser in the worst way, you stormed off.

Jordan followed after you. They couldn't let you walk home by yourself in the dark. “Wait,” they called out after you, only managing to catch your wrist and pull you to a stop once you'd left the house a few blocks behind.

“What? Aren't you busy with your new boy toy?” you hissed at Jordan and they let go of the hold on your wrist.

“Why are you upset? You were flirting with him before- is that why? You're mad he wanted me for once and not you?”

“That is not the issue. It was never the issue. I don't care about all those other people I slept with.”

“Sure seems like you do. You always complain to me about them week after week,” Jordan said sourly.

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you told him plainly.

Their mouth gaped open in shock. “That's messed up. Why would you do that?”

“Because you never made a fucking move! I wanted you to finally come out and say that you liked me!”

“Why couldn't you just ask me?”

“I asked you multiple times!” you exclaimed, beyond frustrated with him. “And you brushed me and the topic off.”

“I was trying to be cool,” Jordan explained. “You'd always ask me after your latest fling and I wanted you to think I was fine with what you were doing because I didn't wanna be that person that made you feel bad about anything.”

“I wanted you to not be fine. I wanted you to say you liked me because I like you.”

Both of you were breathing hard at this point, keyed up, before Jordan chuckled. They continued to chuckle, making you burst out into laughter as well until the two of you are bending over, grasping your stomachs. “Why are we both so bad at this?” you asked.

“Maybe we should fix things?” they suggested, calming down from their laughter. They approached you, cupping your face in their hands. “That way I can stop being jealous of all the ways other people have kissed and touched you.”

Jordan leaned in and kissed you, letting their hands rake through your hair. You kissed them back hard, with a hint of teeth. Jordan hummed happily into the kiss, slating your heads to the side to nudge open your mouth with their tongue. You allowed them in, tongues twining together, the volume of your moans competing with the crickets chirping around you. Eventually you two pulled apart, catching your breaths. “Hm, I think I'll always be jealous over you,” Jordan said. “Because I don't ever want anyone else kissing lips like yours again.”

“Is that your way of saying the kiss was amazing?” you asked, smirking up at them.

“Maybe I need another kiss to decide,” Jordan teased and leaned back in to kiss you. It wasn't long before the two of you found your way back to your dorm room to continue there long until the morning sun rose over your naked bodies.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Thirteen: ‘One Thousand Apologies’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

a/n: this chapter is a pretty short one solely because it leads directly into the next chapter and if i where to combine them it’d 100% would of been way to long😭😭 anyways hope you huns enjoy Xx<3💋

apologizing to Anakin was one thing. it was easy especially after you’d both opened your hearts to one another, apologizing to Padme however was going to be a completely different thing. everything was going smooth thus far since Anakin’s confession that morning, but you were nervous. you knew Padme and you knew she’d forgive you but you had this overwhelming guilt. it was eating you alive as you waited for her to arrive for the day. you twist the ring on your finger becoming lost in your thoughts as you await her arrival. not even entirely sure of what you were going to say or how to start your apology.

as soon as she enters the tea room you’re on your feet. she freezes for a moment processing the fact that your actually acknowledging her existence before carefully continuing in, closing the doors behind her. there’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. you almost wished you could just pretend as if everything was normal and although you knew if you did do that she’d go along with it, you also knew she deserved better.

she was your best friend and the distance you wedged between the two of you albeit one sided- needed to be addressed. you clear your throat and gesture to the chair beside you wordlessly asking her to take a seat, she takes the offer. silently walking over to you and sitting down, you pull another seat directly in front of her to join her. still you both remain silent for a moment as you struggle to find the words, reaching forward to take her hands into yours as she had done to you days ago when trying to offer you comfort.

“Padme…” you force yourself to keep eye contact as you start to speak, wanting to show your sincerity. “i am so sorry, what i did was wrong. i should not have ignored you the way i did, it was childish-” she cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “y/n, i am not mad at you” she looks at you with nothing but pure sympathy. “i know you aren’t mad but it doesn’t excuse my behavior” she shakes her head at you “you where hurting and reacted accordingly, yes it wasn’t the best way to go about it but i understood- i understand” she squeezes your hands reassuringly.

“please let me apologize, i know you understand but you must realize you did not have to do what you did- what you’ve done. you stick beside me even as i pushed you away, you didn’t give up on me even though i would of more than understood if you had.” she gives you a gentle smile, letting out a soft chuckle “y/n you forget our friendship is not one sided, nor is it fragile. i will always be here for you the same way i know you will be for me.” you feel your eyes begin to water and just as quickly you are pulled into her arms. “thank you for the apology i appreciate it” she adds not wanting to brush off what you where trying to do. you both indulge in the hug for a moment, staying in each others embrace before pulling away and smiling.

you both can’t help but laugh. it felt nice, therapeutic almost. “i think we may have more important matters to discuss now” she says with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “like what?” you snort, shifting in your own seat to get more comfortable. “well for starters who’s responsible for finally pulling you out of your own head, who should i be thanking for giving me my friend back?” she’s smiling as she asks, giving you a look that you could only assume meant she already knew.

to be fair it’s not like there where many options for people who’d speak out to you. “You and I both know you’ve already got an idea as to who it was” she laughs, turning her head to the side and gestures silently over to a few of the castle servants. they work quickly, moving the small table to where you both where sat. setting up a small tea party for you both, one of the servants pouring you both a cup of tea adding in milk and sugar to your likings. “of course i do but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you say it” you can’t help but roll your eyes, bringing your cup of tea to your lips before taking a sip. she gives you a smug smile before mirroring your actions.

“what else did you want to discuss?” you ask curiously, she hums for a short moment as she thinks to herself. “we have to address the situation publicly…” you feel your heart sink, looking down into your tea cup to stare at the liquid in order to avoid eye contact. “you don’t have to do a announcement if that’s what your worried about- there are other ways we can go about this matter y/n” you take a deep breath, looking back up at her and placing your tea down. “i don’t have to do an announcement but if feels like i should, a murder and attempted one is not something that can just be so easily looked over”

“well there are ways you could do so indirectly” she quips perking your interest in an instant. “how so?” she places her own tea down now, sitting a bit straighter before she begins. “let’s start with the council members. forget an announcement, skip straight to punishing them and let the news come out in articles as it usually would. then simply replace them, business as usual. you’re the queen, the people already know what’s happened there so there’s no real need to address them in particular.” you nod carefully taking in her advice, tapping on the table beside you with one of your fingers as you think. “that leaves us with one thing”

“addressing your fathers murder and the attempted murder on Anakin” you nod letting out a sigh, leaning your head into your palm. “i don’t feel as if you have to address it head on. write a statement about what happened to your father and have it printed and released in the papers” you purse your lips in thought “but what about the attempt on Anakin’s life?” Padme goes silently, briefly contemplating what you could do to address it while also avoiding the spotlight. “maybe not a statement with words but a gesture, something to show you and him aren’t going anywhere nor are you scared. even though you are but they don’t need to know that.”

a gesture? what could you do to act as a gesture big enough to garner everyone’s attention whilst simultaneously showing there’s nothing to fear.

Anakin sat directly beside you, Listening carefully as you and Padme explained what you’d been discussing. you’d called him in for more than just coming up with an idea- actually you’d already figured out what you wanted to do the problem was you didn’t know how to execute it without his help.

“so you need help coming up with a gesture then?” he asks curiously running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Yes-” “No-” you and Padme both speak at the same time, her turning to you in confusion when she hears you say no. you keep your attention on Anakin however as you speak “do you remember when we discussed the things you liked about your kingdom?” he blinks a few times processing your words as he thinks back through your conversations, the gears turning in his head. you watch as he visibly lights up once he realizes what you’re hinting at “The Races?”

“Yes!” you exclaim happily now turning to Padme to see if she was beginning to see where you were going with this. she seems more curious than anything, which to be fair you didn’t have horse races in Alderaan so it made sense it hadn’t clicked for her yet. “It’s a big event that brings together a lot of people. pretty much anyone can participate as long as they have a horse to ride” Anakin begins to explain the details behind the Tatooine tradition, happily reciting the rules and regulations.

“it’s the perfect thing that could unite the people and us, a public event for the Ton to participate in and if Anakin raced as well then it’d also serve as a way for us to show we aren’t afraid. let them know we’re with them. we could add a Ball as well, so that we can socialize and maybe give a brief statement?” you suggest the idea to the both of them, Anakin grows more excited at the mention of him being able to participate. Padme seems completely onboard as well, perking up at all the new info.

“i think this to be a wonderful idea, and in all honesty you could probably use the excitement of the whole event to sweep this under the rug. at the end of the day its up to you of course” you nod at her comment. there was a lot to think of and a lot to take care of if you wanted this to happen and for it to be successful. you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled over all of the fear and doubts. Anakin seemed to be even more excited than you, tapping his foot against the ground ready to jump up at any moment.

“well for this to work we’d better get started now, i believe we have a letter to write.” you say with a smile as you turn to Anakin.

part 14

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

this chapter was a bit short but the next chapter is going to be very long ☝️ not to mention possibly a big milestone for reader and Anakin👀 it’s either going to happen in this next chapter or the one after 💪 but anyways love you all and i hope you love reader and Padmes friendship as much as me💋💋 oh and one more thing, i hope you guys haven’t forgotten about Barclay 🌝

[be-my-ally]

Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx 

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader 

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine. 

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans,  if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant; 

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh, 

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him. 

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood; 

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little. 

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching. 

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree, 

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion, 

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.” 

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys? 

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle. 

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy, 

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,   

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.  

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes 

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously, 

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle. 

“Oh no it’s just a game -  he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot. 

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules. 

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck. 

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason -  to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him,  “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.”  He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door. 

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window. 

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated; 

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk. 

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note. 

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs. 

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist, 

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are, 

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?” 

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech; 

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm, 

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you; 

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better. 

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you. 

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder. 

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.” 

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously. 

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?” 

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks, 

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns. 

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping, 

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you.  He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger. 

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise, 

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you, 

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition. 

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs, 

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.” 

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest. 

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted. 

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees. 

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well. 

[13916-62mae22]

Unrequited Love

fandom: PLAVE pairings: various x reader genre: angst word count: 200-700 prompt: "So this is what unrequited love feels like"

Yejun: Je Te Laisserai Des Mots

He looks on quietly, his heart broken as he looks at you. Softly, he leads you in. Arms wrap around torsos, a quiet click as the door shuts closed.

Yejun’s front suddenly warms and your gentle sobs shiver underneath his fingertips. All he could do was squeeze you gently and listen to your crying. No matter how many times you come to him, your life in chaos and in shambles, he will always be there for you. Patiently waiting for you as you call for him, knocking on his door.

He knows not to take advantage of this, his feelings put to the side as he comforts you. He leaves encouraging words for you: a text message, a note slipped under your door, soft singing from the other side of the room, or hidden goodies carefully selected under his watch.

And when you’re alone for a moment, the both of you fall from grace.

kiss me, one of you whispers. whenever you want

Neither are sure who says it, but it happens anyway. Both who are in need of someone. Both looking for comfort. Both craving an affection that the other cannot have.

Only one who desires the other in front of them. A gentle desire.

A gentle love.

Kiss me

Whenever you want

Noah: Let You Break My Heart Again

He’s fallen for you.

Unbelievably so.

The way you take up all of his mind. 

The way he treats you extra-so special. He always surprises you with coffee from the shop he frequents. You, who makes a face at the bitter coffee you drink before continuing to drink it all the same. He calls you to remind you of the big event you’re both attending. You, who desperately tries to fix your hair before going out to only get it messed up. 

He watches you as you both exchange music playlists, not even paying attention to the playlist you gave him because he knows he’ll just enjoy it later when he’s alone. You, who sits silently as you listen to music with your eyes closed; tapping your finger against your body and your face, your emotions, moving along with the song.

He tries to understand what he is to you, unsure of the hand-holding and affectionate hugs you give him. Unsure of the long phone calls between the two of you as it goes late into the night. Unsure of the sudden house break-ins you’ve done to wake him up and watch the sunrise together.

But he knows you don’t feel the same.

The way you look at him is nothing compared to the way you look at them. The way your face softens, your mouth turning into a warm smile and the color of your cheeks reddening.

The way his heart hurts makes him want to cry. His feelings–muddled and confused as he watches you fall in love with someone other than him.

He should stop–heaven knows he's tried.

Someday, he will stop falling in love with you.

Someday, someone will like him the way he likes you.

So he pretends that you’re more than friends.

Someday–one day

He will stop falling in love with you.

But until then, he'll be thinking of you.

And he'll let you break his heart again.

Bamby: Youth

The starting line was when he felt the warm feeling bloom in his chest.

It grew more and more at the sight of you.

You were both reckless. Wild youth that ran down streets, played in parks, and fought viciously. You, who grew up with him and treated him with love and respect as a brother. Him, who saw you as nothing more than a goddess–someone who understood him.

You knew all of his secrets. His fears, his likes and dislikes, his trials, his hobbies, his insecurities, and his best moments.

Someone to spend the rest of his life with.

You would both be together until the shadows of the night appeared. Until your mothers had to call for you. Until you both had to part for the night. Both of you, who promised each other to see the other tomorrow, same spot, if you aren’t here then I won’t play with you again.

The sad thing about the world is that time is unforgiving. Never stopping for anything.

You both grew together, went through different routines and changes. But that never stopped the both of you to be together. You were there when he broke his leg from falling down the concrete stairs. You were the one who signed his cast first, adding a small heart next to his name when you wrote ‘get better soon Bamby!’ He was there when your body changed rapidly at school. When you couldn’t leave the bathroom for an hour because of your first blood. He was there with you in the nurse's office, holding your hand as you cried from the pain. Oh, how badly he wanted to take your pain away.

You both, who breathed the same air and drank the same water. Both of you, who chased visions of your futures. Unknowing of the world that never stopped. For anything.

You, who waited quietly around the corner as Bamby was pulled aside to be confessed to. Him, who stood directly next to you when you were confessed to. Both of you, who denied that your relationship will never go anywhere.

Only one of you, who knew that it could be a lie.

That one will die before he gets there.

He, who would watch with tormented feelings as you were wooed by a series of people. He, who threatened any of them that would dare hurt you. He, who would get into a fist-fight with a silver wolf. He, who would accidently hurt you in the process.

He, who could only stop and stare as your body leaked the red liquid. He, who tried to gather his courage to apologize, but never could. He, who waited too long.

And you, who waited for him.

You, who waited for him to come around you again. You, who was willing to accept him back no matter what.

The lovers that went wrong.

The sad thing about the world is that time is unforgiving. Never stopping for anything.

You, who finally moved on after waiting too long.

He, who finally was ready to go back. Go back to the way it was.

But time is unforgiving.

You, who felt anger when he finally showed up.

Him, who felt pain and regret when he saw the anger flicker on your face.

You, who shouted a flood of words at him.

Him, who took it. Bringing it home with him after you told him to leave.

A flood that wrecked him.

And you caused it.

Unknowingly.

It slowly built itself around him, moving upwards to swallow him whole until it finally reached up and suffocated him. It stole the air from his lungs and weighed his body down. Tears he tried to shed no longer existed underneath the flood that encased him.

And He–who has been forgotten. By You–who has been living, moving, and existing.

Both of you–a silhouette. 

Him–a blank, lifeless face that you’ve slowly forgotten in life’s past.

You–a star that shone brightly, even in the darkest of crowds.

Ringing in his head.

When you broke his chest.

And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one.

He only gazes on from a distance, bitter at the feeling that longs in his chest as he watches you take hold of someone. Eyes damp and red-rimmed from the countless hours and days thinking and dreaming about you.

Forever missing you.

Eunho: This Is What Autumn Feels Like

You were his first love, warm and bright as the summer sun. You shone with such force, burning his skin. He wanted to be by your side, smiling alongside your antics. Your laugh blended in with the breeze as it swept through windchimes, mesmerizing him into a trance.

Eunho wished the summer would never end.

But when the seasons change, summer will turn into fall.

Then you’ll leave and you would be gone.

He wished he could see you during every season. He wanted to see you radiate underneath the spring rays, glow with the soft autumn light, and dazzle him among a flurry of sparkling snowflakes.

He did the best he could, making up for lost time with as many events as possible. Bike rides up and down the mountain, ice cream dates along the river, and walks at the nearest park. But none of it could help his lovesick anxiety as the days turned shorter and shorter.

He couldn’t help but stare lovingly at you as you talked animatedly about your day with him or show him something you both would like. His love had grown every summer you had appeared and eventually, he felt his feelings burst.

He would tell you the next summer about his feelings, standing at the bridge you two would meet on the very first day of summer. You would stare at him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

But you rejected him. You knew him as someone who you only saw during the summer and the life you lived elsewhere already had someone in your life.

He understood. He really did.

But his heart could not accept it.

The two of you would still hang out during the summer and keep in touch as the years go on. For Eunho, his love lasted years–never yielding to the seasons he saw you come and go.

Like the trees in the autumn breeze

It’s ironic the way that you leave.

Hamin: So Beautiful

He’s had his sights on you since you’ve met.

You had both met each other at the meet-up that Yejun had invited him to. When Yejun waved him over, he was almost blinded by the two angels that sat next to each other, a kind smile on both faces.

So beautiful.

You greeted him, excited and nervous at the new acquaintance. Yejun had only good things to say about his maknae and you couldn't wait to meet him. He seemed nervous when he hurried over to the table you were occupying, but after talking some more you slowly opened him up.

He had hoped to become close friends with you after you met. You both texted each other frequently. You hung out whenever you both had some free time. Hamin didn’t mean for his feelings to brew in his chest. He didn’t mean for his hopes to become needs and wants.

You both went out to drink one night and found it was raining as you were leaving the bar. You both frowned at this, knowing it wasn’t supposed to rain that night. Not wanting him to walk home in the weather, you offered him to stay at your place.

You didn’t pay it any mind since logic evaded your brain, knowing yourself that it was a nice and innocent gesture.

But he did not think that.

His heart began to beat and his stomach did flips. You were both drunk and you didn’t understand what might happen.

All he could do was agree.

Of course, it was all cleared up when you explained excitedly that you’ve always wanted to have a sleepover with someone again. He could feel his heart drop, but he was still happy to be around you more.

You were both soaked with rain as you entered your apartment. You let him use the shower first, grabbing a change of clothes for the both of you. 

He noticed that something was different when he stepped into the bathroom. There were different products lined against the tub and counter space. He had an inkling what it might be, but he was too distracted with the overwhelming smell of you.

When he got out of the shower, he noticed a fresh pair of clothes waiting for you. As he put them on, a familiar scent reached his senses.

He knew this scent.

He recognized this sweater.

His throat felt tight, his heart jumping into it, and he tried to swallow it down. He drunkenly stumbled into the living room, where you were setting down some snacks.

“Oh, thank god they fit you!” You jumped up and down at the sight of Hamin in Yejun’s clothes. “I was worried that it wouldn’t.”

Hamin smiled at your enthusiasm, but his heart only clenched in his chest. He could only collapse on your couch after you had left to take your own shower. So it was true. You and Yejun were together.

It’s understandable why you were with him.

Nam Yejun was also an angel. He was a strong leader to everyone around him, kind, and soft-spoken. Hamin almost fell for him if you hadn't come around.

When you got back, you sat down next to him and agreed on a movie to watch. You were both still feeling the effects of the alcohol and cuddled close when one or the other began to fall asleep.

Hamin felt wide awake when you fell into a deep slumber. He stared at your face as the movie played, tracing the outline of your nose and the curves of your mouth.

So beautiful.

His thoughts began to blur and run wild as he stared at you.

My love is turning kinda gray. His heart clenched again at the thought.

His love burned inside him. The thought of you choosing someone else tore him apart. But He didn't mind. My heart is looking the other way.

A flawless ending.

So beautiful.

[sunvoids]

Trying to compromise between two opposite parts isn't pleasant sometimes. Yes, I'll go to group therapy more out of obligation to other parts even though I really didn't want to fucking go. Mostly because I'm not interested in being around others or being open and talking and being approachable, so I was already agitated.

Then it's just shit luck some topics brought up were provoking and it did not help that a part really wanted to speak up, offer words and support, but with me fronting it sure as fuck wasn't happening. It's not my problem, and I didn’t want to be there and they kept trying to push until I pushed back. If you won't stop nagging me, I'll just upset both of us instead.

This clash of opposites just came to expression as dissociation, leg bouncing and scratching a finger for long enough the friction created a couple blisters. Mainly as a focus point to avoid exploding or some shit.

I'm decent enough to not outwardly say anything aggressive when then asked directly about relating to the topic because that's an additional headache I don't want to deal with, but my answers were flat and I did not say a lot.

Nobody was happy about the blisters and I still clearly remember the sinking upset feeling a certain part felt when I wouldn’t stop scratching, at a point where I continued more with the intent of being upsetting on purpose, though it was still to manage the agitation.

I've already explained to them why, and the fact that I am not sorry for doing it. The important part was me later explaining instead of ignoring it while they were still upset. I get exhausting and frustrating to talk to when provoked and agitated because I'll respond with escalation and aggression as a "fuck off and leave me alone already."

I'm not sorry because that was an unpleasant situation I didn't want to be in and I need to cope somehow that's not just me pretending or acting like someone else that's not me. I went to the group, because it's important to other parts and that was as much as I was able to give without making myself absolutely digusted.

I then explained later, so my opposite wouldn't feel this linger as direct rejection and dismissal because those are core reasons we share that we approach differently. I, and some other parts, exist due to constant rejection and dismissal so we don't really care for reaching out or making contact with people. Didn't fucking work growing up, so I don't need anyone getting in my way to just disappoint later (📢 if nobody got ya u know ur bestie got u tho ;p 🫶)

..anyway, I don't intent to hurt my opposite part, but I don't want myself hurt by going along with things that agitate me and pretend it doesn't for the sake of other parts.

Similar to someone else on his journey to be himself, rather than whoever he believes other parts would rather want.

[wooahiexist]

Wintry’s Last Waltz by Jelly <3 (The coolest dude ever)

(Ch. 1 House)

In the dining area, utensils and such had been laid down neatly. A little boy was tapping on a glass cup, curious if it would shatter. Suddenly, a voice eroded: “NOYE!” The little boy looked up in surprise as the female voice continued, “We need these for the guests!” The lady said this as she took the glass from his hand and set it on the table.

That’s Gale, the very loving and caring mother of two children, along with her husband! Although just because of her sweet nature doesn’t mean she wouldn’t hesitate to be hard on people, her husband still loves her nonetheless. Pretty healthy relationship, huh?

“Why not go play with Bella?” Gale asked Noye rolled his eyes and replied with crossed arms, “Last time I played with Bella, she wouldn’t eat the toy soldiers; now they’ve invaded my territory!” Gale replied, “Dogs can’t eat toys." She sighed as the sound of a door closing sparked the attention of both Noye and Gale, who turned their gazes towards the noise. There stood Olin in front of the door, her pink puffy dress covering her legs. She was holding some makeup as she made her way to her mother, step by step. “Mom! Can you help me?" Olin asked, staring up at her mother. Gale then looked at the make-up and took it while saying, “Of course, sweetie!” Noye snickered and then taunted Olin by saying, “My day was going well until the rodent stepped into the room!” Before Gale could apply the make-up, Olin quickly went up to Noye and called out, “RODENT?" Gale then looked annoyed as they yelled at one another. These types of arguments were normal between Noye and Olin—sibling talk, as I call it.

Gale quickly took Olin by the arm and slid her back in front of her. She took the brush from the make-up and started getting the spots on Olin’s face. Noye then looked prideful as he stood straight. "Well, Olin, while you’re playing your pretty princesses with the girls, the men will be invading your territory! Pirates hate princesses!” He pretended to hold a sword, swinging his fist at her. "I'll tell Dad you're bothering the girls and me!" Olin added. Gale was then frustrated and said, “Okay, that’s it. Noye, go get your father so we can start this Christmas already." Noye then exclaimed, "Of course.” He said he was faking courtesy with a smug expression. Olin proceeded to stick her tongue at him as Noye pulled on the bottom of his eyelid, sticking his tongue out. He then swiftly shoved aside the door and vanished, the door slamming behind him. Olin sighed as her mother turned her face back to hers. She was almost finished with the make-up, while she then asked curiously, “Why do you want to cover up your spots? I like them, you know." Olin didn’t respond when Gale grabbed her hands and looked at her with a soft look. “Please, why not just leave them? You’re beautiful either way.” Olin then replied, “No, because the girls are going to make fun of me!” Her mom then looked down, disappointed, and disregarded anything said before, completing the process. “There you go." Olin then took the stuff from her, thanking Gale then escorted herself to her room.

As Olin continued down the hall, she caught a glimpse of her father. “That’s the wealthy man, Stephen!” They’d say that although he didn’t deem himself very affluent, Olin put an end to her walk. She noticed her father was readjusting his suit, and he turned to Gale, who exited through another door near the entrance. “What do you think, dear?” Stephen was inquisitive. She then said, “You look absolutely lovely.” While placing a kiss on his cheek, Stephen then placed his hand on his cheek, glancing at Gale and smirking. He lifted her up without consent. “STEPHEN! YOU’RE GONNA DROP ME!” He chuckled as he then let her go, gripping her hand in his as their heads met.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, with people flooding inside. While boys and girls cheered, Noye hugged his friends and cousins, and Olin observed all the family members with an unfazed look. While disregarding the mysterious guest following her. The sounds of chatter from the family left their footsteps unheard. Just as Olin made her way, the individual knocked over a vase. Olin then turned around and quickly caught it. Curious and a little scared, she stared at it before moving it out of her face to find her uncle right in front of her.

[sawyermarshall]

Her feet feel cold against the wooden floor as if for the first time she's noticing how much cooler it is outside at night. Usually, she's under her blanket, staring at ceiling. She doesn't sleep well lately, every time she closes her eyes she sees him and it's almost taunting. Life teasing her like everything will be fine again. His apology rings through the apartment even though he's on the other side of the door. Her eyes instantly fill with tears, her vision blurs because it's so hard to believe he's talking to her right now. She drops one hand from her knee to her thigh to pinch it, to make sure she's not dreaming again. She presses her lips in a tight line, doing her best to prevent herself from making a sound. Her mind dancing around what he plans to do if she doesn't open the door. Will he stick around? Will he go home? Has he already given up?

It reminds her of all the times the two of them would stand outside each other's doors when she would stay with him through the summer. At least the first few times, the both of them wondering if they should go in or not. She thought for the last three weeks, she could fake it. She could pretend this entire thing wasn't eating her alive, pretend she was doing alright and she didn't need him to function, to breathe but fuck she did. Because listening to the noise that starts to fill in the silence makes her feel lighter than she has for the last month. She is itching to open the door and just throw herself into his embrace but the other part of her wants to be sure, sure that the next time she lets him in he will stay. She turns her head to look at the spot the sound is coming from, her hand lifts up to touch it. Her fingertips brushing against the wood like nothing is between them but still she can't bring herself to say a word.

She blinks and a few tears roll down her cheeks. She pulls her hand away and turns again, tugging her knees closer to her chest as she listens to him. Mawmaw's death always looms over her, one weekend she didn't call and the next thing she knows Dante is on the other end of the phone line, asking her to come be with him. She brushes her tongue along her lower lip, chewing on it softly as she glances up to the ceiling as if Mawmaw will pop down from it and tell her to stop being silly. She knows he's trying to understand, if he wasn't he wouldn't have bombarded her meetings for whatever reasons he was doing it for. She inhales as she glances to look in front of her, knowing it's impossible to explain why or how or who. Because she couldn't. It all started with a rough night of partying and kind of continued. Leo was probably the only person who knew how bad she was because he did it right along side of her.

Her eyes focus on something other than the door, the desperate urge to open it and tell him, none of it is his fault. There were some times in between where they only spoke through texts, video calls and other things. How could he have possibly caught on? Her addiction wasn't bad when she was in LA with him because she barely had time to think about it. It makes her realize just how lonely her life truly is. It was easier to get lost in Chicago when she wasn't fighting to act like life was perfect. Does that say something about them or her? She wipes the tears from her face and listens quietly.

She can hear the small sniffle which has her adjusting on the floor. She turns toward the door and moves her hand up to unlock it. She can't listen to him cry. She never has. She raises though when he speaks, informing her that he doesn't really know her or he never has. She wishes he knew that he did know her. He was fully aware of who she was, he just didn't know she had flaws. That she wasn't the perfect human being he always got to see. She waits a few seconds before she stands up completely. She unlocks the door and opens it, her eyes drop down to where he is sitting. If he came over here to end… whatever this was. He can say it to her face. She can look him in the eye when he makes whatever decision that's right for him because trying to guess what he's saying without looking at him speak seem to be working. Yet even though she is looking at him, she can't bring herself to say a word.

@hvneymelons

He stayed silent for a while. Right ear pressed against the door to listen from the outside, Dante had been sure he heard her movements. Slow and tentative almost, but they had been there. “S, I’m sorry.” he said against the door, laying his palms flat against it as he continued to listen. Dante wasn’t sure whether she was still listening within or if she’d left him there all alone. Talking to himself because she was too upset with him to speak, or let him in. “You have every right to be upset with me, Sawyer.” He couldn’t deny that even if he wanted to, but could she truly not see that he too had more than enough reason to be upset right back? That while to her, this was all in the past - and he could thank the heavens in the sky above that it was so - to him it was a fresh cut?  He didn’t expect to be forgiven outright. He didn’t even expect for them to be alright by the time he left her apartment, but at the very least for her to speak with him. To understand, or attempt to understand why he had asked her for time. And while that didn’t seem to be the way the night would go, Dante had missed her far too much to stand his ground and go home. The ‘what if she comes back’ and he missed it for walking away so rashly began to eat at his brain. He turned his back on the head, pressing his head up against it with his eyes closed and just waited.  Sitting in silence had always eaten at his core. He’d never been good at it, needing to fill it with some form of noise whether by playing music or tapping his foot or fingers against something. Slowly he began making rhythm with his fingers against the door. Not too loud as to disturb anyone, but loud enough where he could focus on it and fill the silence. Distracting himself as he spoke, “I wish you could understand… I’m not mad at you, pretty girl. At first, yes I won’t lie, but not for what you probably think, S. I could have lost you! You were in the - and you called and you - I could have lost you, and not have a single inkling as to why or how! And so soon after-!”  Dante had to stop himself, not wanting to place guilt onto her for something else entirely. It wasn’t her fault her grandmother passed. It wasn’t her fault that he was mourning and trying to live life without the only woman in this here earth who had loved and cared for him effortlessly. Took him into her care and showed him what a real mother should be like when his mother couldn’t have cared for shit. His mother’s own addiction tainting his early life immensely, and Vivian Kidd showered him with her love. Had it not been for his old lady and his old man Dante doesn’t know if he would have been here today. He could have died right next to his parents.  “This entire time you’ve been handling this… thing, this - addiction, and not once did I notice. Not once did I look at you and said, ‘huh, maybe my best friend needs me’. I don’t know how long, when, how, WHY it even happened in the first place.” he could feel himself grow weak against her door, his eyes glazing over with unshed tears and he sniffled. “I wanted to take a moment and try to understand, and try to see for myself what could have led you this way. I don’t know if you know, but um - I went to a couple of those meetings. The anonymous ones, and so many people - I heard so many different stories but I couldn’t place you there, S. I couldn’t see you being up there. Still!” he sniffled, finally a tear rolled down his face.  Taking his hands, Dante cleaned his eyes so he could see better as he stared into the night sky. He had to laugh at how stupid he probably sounded. “Even now. So stupid.” he found himself chuckling, “Because that’s not the you that I know.” Dante began to shift from foot to foot, as he became more uncomfortable with the words that came out of him. “I don’t know if I really know you anymore, or if I ever really did… and that’s not something I can accept. I don’t know how. And that could be so selfish to say, I don’t know.”

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 5: Guilt Consumes You

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire: Season Four

Word Count: 3440 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, visions, nosebleeds

[A/N: will never apologise for making reader a mayfield. that is all.]

Guilt Consumes You

“I know you guys are staring at us.” Max suddenly says, looking back at where the guys were most definitely staring at her.

You glance back from where you’re stood to see them suddenly strike different nonchalant poses, that clearly weren’t natural, and you shake your head.

“What, sorry?”

“You said you needed something?”

“Just hanging out.”

Max sighs, “How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don’t know.”

She grabs the letters and stands from her chair, walking over to them.

You wanted to tell Max about your visions, about how you think Vecna has been in your head all along. Steve knew. You had told him after he found you on the floor, still reeling from your last visit by the monster. But you made him promise not to tell the others. Not until you found a way to save Max.

After all, if Vecna wanted to kill you, he would have by now. Right?

Max stands in front of the guys as they avoid eye contact, pretending to be interested in different topics. You roll your eyes with a small smirk on your lips.

“You can look at me now.” Max allows and they all continuously let out sighs of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Max takes a deep breath before she took a letter from a pile and handed it to Dustin.

“For you.” She says as he hesitantly takes it.

“For you.” She says again to Steve this time and his eyes widen slightly in surprise. Tentatively, he reaches out and takes the letter.

“And, um,” Max lowers a letter into Lucas’ hand. “For you.”

“Oh, and, um,” Max counts out a few envelopes before handing them to Lucas again, “Give these to Mike, El, and Will. If you can ever get a hold of them again.”

You had tried calling the Byers for hours now, needing them more than ever. You knew El couldn’t help you in this situation, not since she lost her powers, but you hoped she could have some information on Vecna. Or if Will was still connected to the Upside Down, like you, he could have some sort of idea on what Vecna is.

“Here.” Max snaps you out of your thought and you stare down at the envelope in her hand.

“You don’t have to do this.” You whisper but you take the letter, slipping it into your back pocket.

“I need to.” She says quietly back to you and you squeeze her hand.

You both glance back to the sofa and Max jumps forward as Steve starts to peer into the envelope.

“What are you doing?” Max exclaims and they all stop their actions, “No, don’t. That’s not for now. Don’t open it now.”

“Don’t…” Dustin begins to question before he catches your eye, “Okay.”

There’s a moment of silence before Dustin notices you lower your head and walk back over to the desk to take a breath.

“I’m sorry. What is this?”

“It’s, um…” Max gulps back nerves, staring down at the last letter in her palms as she tries to find the right words, “It’s a fail safe. For after. If things don’t work out.”

Lucas straightens in his seat. “Wait, whoa. Max, things are gonna work out.”

“No.” She stops him, shaking her head. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me and tell me it’s all gonna work out. Because people have been telling me that my entire life and it’s almost never true.”

“Y/n?” Lucas’ voice calls out for reassurance.

You turn your head to look back at them before squeezing your lips shut, looking back down and staying silent.

“It’s never true.” Max continues in the silence, “I mean, of course this asshole curses me. Should’ve seen that one coming. Mayfields are cursed.”

“Don’t say that, please.” Lucas mutters in a silent prayer and Max shrugs.

“I’m not lying.” She lets out a breathy laugh, “I’m surprised Y/n hasn’t been cursed.”

Your breath hitches as you inhale shakily, twisting in your seat to face everyone else. Steve meets your eyes, chest moving rapidly. He knew the truth.

“We’ll do whatever we have to.” You announce, nodding slowly, “But Max is right.”

“But-” Lucas tries to argue but you hold your hand up.

“Being positive doesn’t help with something like this.” You say reluctantly and Max nods along with you. “You can’t expect us- her to be positive. Not until we have a concrete plan to get rid of Vecna for good.”

As everyone ponders the thought, Max’s eyes catch something on the table and she reaches over, picking up Dustin’s radio.

“If we go to East Hawkins, will this reach Pennhurst?” Max questions, looking back at Dustin.

“Of course. Yeah.”

“Wait, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve asks with furrowed brows. But you had already known this was coming when you caught the name written across the last letter.

“The graveyard.” You say quietly.

Steve just stares at you for a moment before his eyes widen, “No. No.”

You stand from the chair, walking over to Max and tilting your head at her. She looks up at you and you understand. She needed this.

“No!” Steve exclaimed, looking between you both.

But it had already been decided.

You grab Steve’s keys before he has a chance to react and turn to Max.

“I’ll drive.”

She gives a grateful smile before you’re both leaving the basement, walking away from the Wheeler house and heading to Steve’s car. You would feel guilty about stealing his keys later. Right now, Max needed closure.

“Max. Y/n!” Steve calls after you, Dustin and Lucas following close behind as he ran to catch up with your strides. “Seriously, I’m not joking. You’re not driving anywhere!”

“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, you’re out of your mind.” Max states, glancing to you, “I’d rather spend my last moments doing something actually worthwhile with my sister by my side.”

You smile at her, nodding as you jingle the keys in your hand.

“Either let my sister take me where I need to go,” Max continues, never breaking her stride, “Or you’re gonna have to tie us down, which is technically kidnapping a minor.”

“But-” Steve tries but Max is determined.

“And Y/n will most likely bust us both out of there.” She nods as you get closer to the car, “But if I live to see another day, Steve, I swear to god, I will prosecute.”

You hold out the keys to unlock the door when Steve suddenly swipes them from your hand. You stop and glare at him.

Max tries the door but it doesn’t open and she looks at Steve, irritated.

“Open the door.” She says and Dustin glances between you both, shuddering.

“Uh, no.” Steve says blatantly, shaking his head.

“I know a good lawyer.” Max challenges and he looks genuinely concerned.

You step forward, as close as you can, towards Steve and he recoils from the fact you are suddenly face to face.

“Either drive us yourself or give me the keys.” Your voice remains calm and he frowns.

“Or what?” He tries to sound dominant but there is a hint of fear in his voice as you lean closer.

“Do you really want to find out?” You ask sweetly and he clears his throat, stepping back while letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine.” He mumbles, taking out his keys and unlocking the car, “Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst.”

Lucas and Dustin just stare in bewilderment as you and Max exchange sly looks.

“Mayfields.” Dustin mumbles under his breath and Lucas nods, sliding into the car after him.

You open the front passenger door with a small smile before a chill strikes your spine.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then a singular chime.

You glance behind you to see Max has stopped, staring behind her.

“Max?” You call and she whips her head back around.

“Let’s go.” Max shakes her head, stepping into the car and slamming the door shut behind her.

You stare another second at the scenery before sighing and getting into the car with the others.

The goosebumps never left your skin as Steve pulled away mumbling about being ganged up on.

Something bad was going to happen.

You could feel it.

“This better be fast, Mayfield.” Steve warns, parking the car.

“Twenty seconds.” Max replies, already leaving the car and heading into the trailer.

You sigh, slumping into your seat.

Susan and Max now lived in the trailer park thanks to Neil. After he left, he took the income with him. You remember begging Max to persuade Susan into moving to Jack’s house, but nothing happened. You weren’t the only one feeling grief.

“That things got batteries in it, right?” Steve asks, staring at the radio in Dustin’s hands.

“I’m not even answering that question.” Dustin simply replies, sending him a look, until a sigh leaves his lips. “Yes, it has batteries.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Steve shakes off and you smirk.

“What?” Steve raises his eyebrow at you and you simply shrug.

“Nothing.”

“It’s already been twenty seconds.” Lucas announces and you take a breath, staring at the trailer. “Maybe I should-”

“No.” You simply say and once Lucas starts to argue, you turn in your seat to face him. “Look, I understand how much you wanna help her. And I’m grateful for that. I don’t know what happened between you two but I can tell when my sister needs space.”

“How would you know that?” Lucas challenges and Dustin widens his eyes, looking to him.

“Dude.”

“No, no.” Lucas frowns, shaking his head. “You haven’t been here. What makes you think you can just decide what’s best for Max when you left her?”

There’s a moment of silence in the car and Lucas’ face drops as he starts stuttering.

“Y/n, I-I am so sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay.” You say quietly, turning back around in your seat and staring back at the trailer. “You’re right.”

“No, hey-” Steve tries to interject but you smile it away.

“It’s fine.” You reach for the door handle and step out of the car. “I’m gonna check on Max.”

You enter the trailer, shaking away any nerves and guilt you were feeling. Lucas was right. You did leave her.

All of your plans to find her after graduation, to spend every day by her side and be the sister she needed, you had thrown it all away in the end. She had needed you, even if she hadn’t explicitly said it. You just weren’t there.

Pushing open the trailer door, you poke your head around and expected Max to be stood waiting. But she wasn’t there at a first or second glance. You checked the bedrooms. Nothing.

Max was no where to be seen and your heartbeat quickened.

“Max?” You call out hesitantly, noticing a back door.

You head over, pushing it open and poking your head around the corner.

“Ma-” You begin when you see her panting on the ground.

Instantly, you push through the door, practically flying down the small steps and crouching by her side.

“Hey, hey.”

She looks at you, startled, before gripping onto your arm, breathing heavily.

“He- I-” She tried and you hugged her.

“I’m here. Okay, I’m here.” You soothe over and over and she begins to calm a little.

“This is your fault”

You whip your head around, searching for Vecna, wondering if this was just a dream. But he wasn’t there. Just an echo in your mind, latching onto your guilt.

“I need to get there.” Max says quickly and you nod, understanding.

Pulling her to her feet, you grab her bag thrown beside you and walk with her back to the car, vowing to keep this a secret.

Everyone was waiting anxiously by the car as Max tried to control her breathing.

“Hey, that was longer than twenty seconds.” Steve complains and you shoot him a look.

He glances between you both, posture changing.

“Hey, whoa, whoa.” Steve steps out in front of Max, “You all right?”

“I’m fine. Just drive.”

Max reclaims her seat in the back and you bite your lip.

“Did something happen?” Dustin asks and Max looks away from them all as Steve starts the car again.

“Can we please just go?”

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the clock never left the back of your mind. It was following you everywhere you went, reminding you that you were running out of time.

Arriving at the graveyard brought a wave of deja-vu you never wanted to experience. Too many deaths, too many funerals.

There wasn’t a single one for Jack.

Max had wasted no time in getting out of the car, meeting your eyes in the mirror and silently asking you to come with her. You gave a brisk nod before joining her.

“Max?” Lucas calls after her, climbing out of the car and running to your sister.

“Lucas, please, just wait in the car.” Max begs, continuing to walk.

But Lucas catches up, pulling her to a stop and you choose to halt your own movements.

You watch as Lucas stares into her eyes, pleading her to listen. You give a sad smile, walking away to give them some space to talk it through. Regardless of what had happened between them, it was important to have someone to care for you like that.

You had asked Dustin a million times if anyone had talked to Eddie recently. After what happened to Max, you didn’t have any time to check on him. You just couldn’t imagine how scared he was feeling. The last thing you ever wanted was to drag him into this mess, to ruin his life. And you knew you shouldn’t be taking on that burden of guilt, but you couldn’t help but feel Vecna did this just to prove a point to you. After all, he could have picked any other opportunity to kill Chrissy.

“This is all on you”

You spin around, searching the trees behind you. Yet again, nothing.

“Are you ready, Y/n?”

The sound made you spin around again, coming face to face with a grandfather clock. You watched as it chimed, ending on three. Your eyes widen and you stumble back.

“Y/n!” Max calls for you and you snap awake, breathing heavily.

Your sister walks towards you, something unreadable on her face.

“You ready?” You ask, glancing behind her to see Lucas staring longingly. You assumed things didn’t go to plan.

Max was just protecting his heart the only way she knew how. That’s just how Mayfields were raised.

She led you across the graveyard, your eyes glancing to the names written on each stone. You had been here a million times, recollecting all these names of people you didn’t know.

Then, one name at your final destination, tightening your heart.

William Hargrove

It was strange, to see Billy’s gravestone so formal. You knew he would have hated it. His mother always called him Billy.

Max sat crossed legged in front of the stone with the letter in her hands, looking up at you. You motion for you to wait elsewhere but she shakes her head, tears already marking her eyes.

“Please stay.” She whispers and you nod, lowering yourself to sit just behind her to allow some space.

“Dear Billy,” Max begins and you take a breath, staring at the grave with such intensity that it could raise the dead. That’s what you both wanted, anyway. For Billy to be here.

“I don't know if you can even hear this.” She continues with a shaky breath, “Two years ago, I would have said, ‘That's ridiculous, impossible.’. But that was before I found out about alternate dimensions and monsters, so... I'm just going to stop assuming that I know anything.”

You remember the day they arrived in Hawkins, pulling up to the school and bringing your past right to you. It’s funny to think that you always saw it as bringing a good memory and a nightmare at the same time. Max was your life, the reason you had to keep going. Billy was the opposite. Or, at least, you thought he was.

“So much has happened since you left. Your dad was a total mess. He and my mom started getting into fights. Bad fights. I don't think he could stand being here without you. So he left. And he didn't leave Mom much. She's taken an extra job, and we moved to that lovely trailer park off Kerley.”

You place your hand on Max’s knee, watching her soothe herself into continuation.

“Basically, ever since you left, everything's been... a total disaster.” Max admits and you squeeze your eyes shut, “And the worst part is, I can't tell anyone why you're gone. I can't tell them that you saved El's life. That you saved Y/n. That you saved my life.”

Billy caught the tentacle with both hands, straining against its force as he stood above you. Protecting you.

You struggle to stand, trying to prop yourself up on your elbow before falling back down. Another tentacle shoots out. Billy shifts his body and it bites into his left side.

You watch in horror and regret as your childhood friend sacrifices his life for yours. The Mind Flayer has no choice but to eliminate him now. Another tentacle, another bite. And again, and again, and again…

Billy drops to his knees, the tentacle from the monster’s mouth retreats as he screams out in pain.

“I play that moment back in my head all the time.” Max says and a tear rolls down your cheek.

“BILLY!” Max screams as you sob on the floor, watching the Mind Flayer take his life.

“And sometimes I imagine myself running to you, pulling you away. I imagine that if I had, that you would still be here.” Max’s voice breaks and you take in a shaky breath, a throbbing in the back of your mind. “And everything would be... everything would be right again.”

“I imagine that we could've become friends. Good friends, like... like a real brother and sister. And I know that's stupid. You hated me. I hated you. But I thought that maybe... maybe we could try again.”

Another tear slips down your face and you wipe it away, the sleeve of your jumper brushing against your upper lip.

“But that's not what happened. I just... I stood there and I watched. For a while, I tried to be happy. Normal. But I... I think that maybe a part of me died that day too.”

You look at your sister but you were situated just behind her, unable to see her face. Her voice told you all you needed to know. You reach out for her again when a flash of dark catches your attention. A new stain on the cuff of your jumper.

“And I haven't told anyone this. I... I just can't. But I had to tell you. Before it's too late. If you can even hear this. I really hope that you can. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Billy.”

You bring your fingertips to gently touch just below your nose, drawing them back into your lap. A sob catches in your throat as you see liquid staining the skin. It wasn’t red.

“Love, your shitty little sister, Max.”

A shaky sigh leaves her lips and you look to see her folding up the paper again. As you glance back at your fingers, you understand you’re running out of time to tell her. She needed to know. You owed her that much.

“Max…” You begin as the letter is put back into its envelope. She straightens and you take it as a sign to keep talking. “I, uh… I need to tell you something. Something… pretty important. And I just hope you don’t hate me for keeping it from you.”

You exhale a shaky sigh, looking back at her and waiting for a response. Nothing.

You frown, wondering if you said something wrong. “Max?”

Tentatively, you reach out and brush her shoulder. Nothing again. You frown, shifting towards her, wondering why it was so quiet. Not just in the graveyard. It was quiet in your mind.

The ticking noises you had been hearing had stopped at some point and it was only until you saw Max’s face that you finally understood why.

“MAX!”

Chapter 6: Running Up That Hill ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit/ @f1nn-wolfhard/ @hereiamhereigo/ @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley/ @mothmanatemycat

[4ng3l-0n-34rth]

Intimidated: Part 1// a Steve Harrington x Dustin's sibling! reader

not my gif!! but i luv steve and his lil bat

a/n: hello! and hi again if you're here from the prologue! if you haven't read it yet i highly recommend that you do because this chapter picks up immediately after!! it'll be linked below! there's also a lot of music talk and pretty much just my hc's on what steve would listen too and Y/N is a metal head sry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

warnings: mild swearing

summary: this is a continuation of my last part so not much to be summarized, pretty much just banter between you and Steve, and a little commentary from the kids!

enjoy!!

2,416 words

previous part / next part

now playing: THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKING BY NANCY SINATRA

"Hey do you wanna uh.. do you wanna tag along?"

The idea hadn't even crossed your mind since you knew the boys, Dustin especially, loved their 'Steve time' but once he actually asked you to come with, you couldn't help but to say, "Sure why not!" Cheerily you move your weight from leaning on the doorframe to your feet and make your way to his car, where the boys were still arguing over who gets in the front seat. "Hate to break it to ya kids, but Steve ever so kindly asked me to come with and I sure as hell am not squeezing in the back with one of you." you stifled a laugh as both of them frowned and climbed in the backseat, not wanting to protest since it was your money they were going to try and spend on just about anything other than what it was supposed to be for.

As you looked back to the house, Steve was still standing on the porch, surprised you'd even accept. He thought to asked just to be nice, but didn't really see you as the type to want to get out of the house more than you needed too. You let out a loud whistle to get his attention. "C'mon Harrington the car wont drive itself," instantly pulling him out of his thoughts he heads towards the car, opening the door and sitting down, initiating you to do the same.

Once he puts the keys in the ignition and starts to pull out of your driveway you decided to take a look around the car. The space is new to you so you decide to observe it, take everything in. " You got any cd's?" you ask. There's never a silent moment when you're driving, always having something playing when you make your way around town. "Oh yeah you can look through the glove box and pick one out," he stated, gesturing to its location with his hand, but keeping his eyes on the road.

As you shuffled through them, nothing really caught your eye, instead a laugh caught in your throat. "What?" he ask's a little confused at why you're holding back laughter while looking at the cd's. "Sorry, it's just pretty much all you have is the beach boys and wham!" He rolled his eyes and closed the glove box. "Well if you don't like my music you don't have to listen to it." He let out a bit of a nervous laugh. He knew the music you were into, and he could only assume just by your appearance that you didn't rock out to 'wake me up before you go-go.'

"Well don't get butt hurt, I'm just teasing," you reopen the glove box to look again, then pull a random one out, giggling before you could even make your point. "Just because I'd never own a.." you had to pause to let out a few laughs once reading the cover of what was in your hand. "a Nancy Sinatra cd, doesn't mean it's bad music." Steve jokingly pretended to be hurt and took the cd from your hand. "If I'm giving you a free ride, you aren't allowed to laugh at Nancy Sinatra!" You held your hands up in surrender as your laughing fit finally calmed down. "Fine fine you're right that was rude of me. Please allow me to play it." you gestured and took it from his hand, opening the case then placing the cd in the cars stereo and hit play, listening as 'These Boots Are Made For Walking' comes on.

Lucas and Dustin both just watched the two of you interact, dumbfounded by the fact you two were getting along? Of course they both knew you and Steve weren't complete strangers, i mean hell you fought off a giant flesh monster together with fireworks! But that was just about all the communication you've ever had other than crossing paths for the occasional pick up and drop offs of Dustin. Lucas slowly leaned toward Dustin to whisper in his ear. "Dude, your sister looks like she's kinda... enjoying herself?"

Steve wasn't wrong about the fact you don't get out much, other than driving kids around, school, and occasional errands you really didn't do much, or hang out with many people. I mean you were just the loner. The scarily intimidating loner. You didn't get invited to parties, or participate in sports. You just kept to yourself, and you didn't mind it all that much. That is until you did... Being the loner can get lonely right?

"There's no way... Surely they're just amusing him right? I mean I know Y/N doesn't really have friends, but they know how to start a conversation. Probably just bored or something." Dustin whispered back to Lucas, reassuring him that there's no way in hell you of all people are happy to make small talk with Steve. According to Dustin you and Steve live in completely different worlds, and watching those worlds mix when their lives weren't on the line was beyond strange.

Soon enough you arrived at the ice cream parlor, but of course the boys had ulterior motives, since the second Steve parked they both sprinted out of the car to the comic book store a few buildings down. "Jesus these kids are too much," you sigh and unbuckle your seat belt. "I guess this is the part where we chase after them?" Steve replied unbuckling his seatbelt as well. "Eh, might as well let them look around for a bit, but if they spend all the money i gave them you're paying for ice cream," you grinned. "Somehow i sensed I'd be paying anyways."

The both of you got out of the car and decided to just wait outside until the kids were done. "So Steve, you follow them around so you can fight off the monsters they snuff out, or do you actually like them?" you asked, and he looked down to you, deciding if he should answer honestly or joke about it. What would she want to hear? He thought. Going with the latter he responded, "I mean wouldn't you constantly tail them if it meant you got to be a badass monster slayer?" You raised a brow and retorted, "I wouldn't go that far, you 'slay monsters' like a little league player." He pretended to be hurt and held a hand to his chest with a gasping. "I'll let you know I was the best little league player in all of Hawkins back in the day." The both of you let out a few laughs and the banter carried on until you decided to check the time and realized it was about to get dark.

"Shit," you muttered, and glanced to Steve who seemed concerned. "My mom's gonna be home in 30, and she has no idea we're out. If she gets home and see's my car but an empty house she's gonna lose her shit!" You yelled, and headed straight inside to find the boys shuffling through racks of comic books. "What the fuck is taking you so long?" you ask, visibly irritated. "Calm down Y/N we're just looking around!" Dustin replied. "You were 'just looking around' for almost twenty minutes! If we aren't home before mom you can kiss your little game night goodbye." Dustin immediately looked out the door window and notice the sun beginning to go down, signaling to him it was at least 6:30, and messily put everything he was looking at back on the rack and ran out, Lucas following suit. "Sorry!" The boys shouted in unison to the man behind the counter before they were out the door. You just gave an apologetic smile and shrug before you were out of the building as well.

"Damn, you can get them moving quickly. It takes me at least five 'can we please go' 's before any of them listen to me." Steve stated, almost impressed at how easily they'll listen to you. "If you want them to listen you need to threaten to take away privileges or else the little shits think they can do whatever they want." You respond, walking toward the ice cream store instead of the car like everyone else, and they all looked to you confused.

"What? we came here for ice cream didn't we? It'll take 10 minutes to get home and we have about 25 until my ass is grass, so we may as well not go home empty handed." You state as you walk inside. The boys cheered and headed toward the door, Steve holding it open so they can run in, and then walked in behind them. "Ok, figure out what you want quick we don't have a lot of-" before you could finish your sentence, Steve was already telling the worker everyone's order, and surprisingly got everyone's correct.

"You never told me you were a mind reader Harrington." You laughed, then pulled out the money you had swiped back from the kids after leaving the comic store to pay for everyone. "Well first off, sadly I am no mind reader, but serving all of you at scoops three times a week makes it easy to remember what you always get, and don't worry I can pay," he pushes your hand aside and pulls out his wallet, as the server sets the group's order on the counter. "Oh please, there's no way you'd want to pay for Dustin's fifty thousand toppings, just let me do it." And before he could say anything you had already handed the cash to the server.

Steve didn't respond. In all honesty he was unsure how too. He works a stable job and is used to practically buying everything for the kids whenever he takes them out, but maybe he could get used to your company, and you insisting to pay. "Come get your shit kiddos!" you call to them and they happily came over to pick up whichever scoops of ice cream they could identify as their own. You grabbed your order afterward and Steve took his, then the four of you headed back out side.

"Oh, I didn't even think to ask if they're allowed to eat in your car." you stated, stopping in your tracks. "Well it wouldn't be the first time." is all Steve replied with before unlocking the car and getting in. As you were walking to sit in the front Dustin swiftly beat you to it, slamming the door shut and locking it from the inside, then he stuck his tongue out at you. "Dustin I already said that I'm not sitting in the back seat what the hell is your problem?" you asked, trying not to raise your voice so much since you're in public. "You snooze you lose!" He shouted so you could hear him through the shut door. Normally you would figure out how to get him out of there, but knowing you're on a time crunch you decided to let him have it just once and sit in the back with Lucas. "Fine, whatever..." you sigh and get in the car.

While on your way home, the cd you had put in earlier was still playing and all of you ate your ice cream. You decided to make some small talk with Lucas about what was new in the comic store, since Dustin was happily chatting with Steve in the front. It was sweet how much Dustin adored Steve. You never had anything against Steve, sure you could only assume at one point you would've been the butt of all of his jokes, but just as the populars liked to make fun of the losers, you from time to time would find yourself laughing at him.

Something had changed though, and you could tell. Slowly King Steve just faded into Steve and you were content with the fact he could be the providing Dustin with a role model. It was no secret the both of you had an absent father, but there was something about Steve that filled those shoes in Dustin's eyes, and for that you were forever grateful.

Whilst chatting with Lucas in the back seat, Lucas couldn't help but notice Steve's repetitive glances at you through the rearview mirror, and he was surely going to tell Dustin once they got home. That was until Dustin spoke, "Hello? Earth to Steve!" drawing out his words, bringing everyone's attention to the driver, as a faint redness rose to his cheeks. "Would you chill out Dustin? I'm trying to drive here." he responded almost coldly, upset that Dustin brought the fact he was completely zoned out to everyone's attention. "Well obviously you aren't trying hard enough, you just passed my street" Dustin retorted. "Shit." was all he could mutter in response, as he took a U-tun and pulled into your driveway.

Everyone thanked Steve and began to get out of the car except for Dustin, who grabbed Steve's arm to keep him from leaving just yet. "What the hell is your problem?" the boy asked, genuinely confused as to why Steve seemed so dazed. "What are you talking about?" Steve replied. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Not only did you invite Y/N to come with us, but you were all over her the whole time!!" Steve sighed and shifted in his seat to face him. "Look, I'm sorry I thought it was a good idea to get to know my best friends sibling, I wont push further." Dustin was immediately content with the fact Steve referred to him as his best friend, and felt bad for nagging. "No you're right I'm sorry, I suppose I should get used to the both of you being friends, Y/N is actually your age after all.."

Sure just getting to know you because you were Dustin's older sibling wasn't the only motive he had, but he knew what to say to keep the kid from pushing. He had really enjoyed the short conversations you had with him, and it kept him longing for more, wishing and begging for more. Something inside you drove him crazy and he wouldn't rest until he could figure out what it was. Maybe there was just something going on with the Henderson's that made him feel like himself because lord knows he wouldn't be where he is today without Dustin, and maybe one day he could say the same about you...

[oneoftheextras]

Truth | Gojo Satoru

masterlist | request?

paring: gojo satoru x reader

summary: gojo was the most annoying upperclassman and partner you’d ever had, he always had something to say. 

when a special grade exorcism goes a bit too well, you realise all too late the truth-telling side affects of this particular curse. you just pray that gojo doesn’t ask the wrong or right questions.

words: 5.7

warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, spoiler free, descriptions of gore and blood, cheating mentioned (the curse’s vibe), mentions of someone taking their own life, little bit angsty

“Will you just shut up and give me the debrief?” you snapped, lifting your eyes up from your phone to glare at the descending ceiling of the abandoned subway station.

Satoru Gojo.

Of course it had to be Satoru - fucking - Gojo.

Normally, you’d be dispatched on your own, but for some reason the higher ups thought that this curse needed not one, but two special grade sorcerers to exorcise it.

With talent alone, Gojo outranked you - he made sure you knew that every moment you spent at Jujustu Tech with him - but, your cursed energy technique was stronger.

“Loosen up, you’re no fun to be around when you’re all grumpy-grumpy,” his voice took on a child-like tone as he pretend to stamp his feet the same way an infant would, “And you’re no fun to be around at all.” you quipped back.

This was the ongoing battle between you and Satoru Gojo. He knew exactly how to piss you off, to the point where just being in his presence grated on you, and you wanted more than anything to put him in his place.

He was arrogant, cocky, and egotistical. It didn’t help that he was attractive and didn’t try to hide the fact that he knew it.

Why the sorcerer executives had paired you together? You didn’t know. 

Both of you were more than capable sorcerers, but ever since you graduated Jujustu Tech they were adamant to make you work together. Gojo claimed it was so you could learn from him as he was a year older, but you protested that it was to keep him in line.

He placed a hand on the left side of his chest, right where his heart would be if it hadn’t frozen over, “You hurt my feelings.” he pouted and you scoffed, keeping your flashlight trained on the disgusting steps ahead of you.

“Good. Now tell me what the situation is.” you rubbed the bridge of your nose as you spoke, a headache was already starting to creep it’s way behind your eyes.

A long sigh left the tall man beside you, but you were glad when he started going through the case.

“Special grade, only because of it’s intelligence. Seems to stem from a heartbroken woman, she caught her husband cheating and threw herself in front of a train.” he said matter-of-factly, only showing sympathy towards the end.

Curling your nose up into a snarl, “What an asshole.” you felt yourself getting angry on behalf of this unnamed woman.

“Mhmm,” Gojo nodded along, probably the only time the two of you were in agreement, “Apparently the curse is vengeful and extremely violent. Likes to target couples too.” he continued.

You didn’t need to see his eyes to know that he was glancing at you, his shit-eating smirk did that on it’s own. It was clear what he was implying.

As if Gojo, as if.

He was a hard man to read, if you were being completely honest with yourself. All the time you’d spent getting to know him, the line between sincerity and teasing had blurred. You’d known each other since you were 15 and he was 16, you being a bright eyed and bushy tailed first year, and him being the ‘all knowing’ second year.

Immediately, you’d made it into his rotation of people to pester.

For years you watched him flirt with women, shoot his shot and very rarely get turned down, only fuelling the fire of his ego even more. 

But he was different around you. Sure, he flirted and teased just as much as he did the others, but he wasn’t as persistent with them - he’d only pursue someone for a couple of days and if they weren’t reciprocating his feelings he’d leave them be.

Here you were, ten years later, and he was still teasing you. Maybe it was just because you never left his rotation, all the others either dropped out or were dispatched to other parts of Japan. Only you were the one dumb enough to stay at Hokkaido.

Gojo said it was because you would miss him too much, you said it was because they needed you.

A rotten stench was starting to waft up from the subway, the deeper you went the stronger it got. By now, all natural light was gone, your only visual aid was your flashlight.

“We’re definitely in the right place.” you almost dry heaved at the odour that filled your mouth as you spoke, if it weren’t for your years of training your disgust would be more visible, “Oh, is that what that is?” Gojo feigned ignorance, “I thought you forgot to shower again.” he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Ha ha, very funny! Go get eaten.” you mocked him and shoved the shoulder that’d bumped into you. At the force of your push, he stumbled down the last couple of steps and into the darkness of the subway platform.

You waited for a second, holding your breath to see if you could hear footsteps. There was nothing but silence.

The amount of cursed energy that radiated from this place was intense, if it wasn’t so far below ground it would’ve lit up like a Christmas tree, it was surprising that it’d taken you this long to find it.

“Gojo?” you called out into the darkness, hearing your own voice echo back at you. The silence continued so you stepped down onto the platform, flashlight scanning dusty expanse of the building.

“Over here!” you heard in the distance and shone your light at the direction it came from, his white hair illuminated in the light. You sighed a breath of relief, you had no idea how you would explain getting The Satoru Gojo killed to the higher ups.

His long legs were bent as he crouched down near the edge of the platform, it took everything in you not to push him off the edge and onto the filthy tracks below.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked as you strolled over to him. If you were on your own, you’d be on high alert and awaiting the inevitable jump scare of the curse showing itself, and in some ways you should be - this was still a special grade curse.

Gojo pushed up off the floor and stood at his full height, reminding you once again just how much shorter you were than him.

Does he really have to spike his hair like that too? He’s tall enough as it is without the hair for help.

He pointed a slender finger down onto the tracks before stuffing both his hands into his pockets, “Think I found our curse.” he inhaled deeply and then let out a noisy exhale through his mouth.

When you peered over the edge to see what he was talking about, you realised why he sounded so disappointed, “That it?” you grumbled, the thing you were both staring at was grotesque in every sense of the word, but you wouldn’t look at it and call it a special grade.

Laying on the rusted tracks was the torso of a woman, from what you could tell anyway. Where the head would normally be was a splattered stump of hair, bone and flesh - it was unrecognisable.

The arms connected to the torso were mangled and bent in multiple different directions, bone had shattered through skin and protruded through like a sprouting flower.

Where the torso would usually connect to a pair of legs was a gaping hole with intestines ungracefully dragging across the floor as it attempted to pull itself across the ground.

“I kinda feel sorry for it.” Gojo stretched his hands out in front of him with his fingers interlocked.

“Please, don’t lie to me.”

If you weren’t already looking at Gojo you would’ve sworn you heard him say something. “I’m not! Look at it, it’s begging to be put out of it’s misery.” he gestured to the mound of what used to be a person.

He didn’t see the confused expression on your face as he jumped down onto the tracks, “What?” you cocked an eyebrow at his weird statement.

“I do have a heart, you know.” he inspected the torso for a moment, probably wondering what made it so special. He clicked his fingers and the entire thing disintegrated the second his fingers had fully extended.

Okay, say what you want about his personality, but his power was nothing short of hot.

“Baby, please, don’t lie to me.”

This time you were sure you heard it, but before you could ask him what he meant Gojo was already speaking.

“As flattered as I am at the nickname, I’m not?” his voice went up at the end, he was just as confused as you. “What are you talking about?” your forehead crinkled with frustration.

It was hard to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right, that was too easy to be a special grade, and Gojo’s one sided conversation was throwing you through a loop.

“Baby, don’t lie to me”

This time you were both already facing at each other. You staring down at Gojo on the tracks and him gazing up at you on the platform - neither of your mouths moved.

“I just heard-” you stared cautiously, lowering your voice so only he could hear, “-your voice.” he finished your sentence for you and you both nodded in understanding. Now, this made more sense.

You stepped towards the edge of the platform and extended your hand out for him to grab, but as he reached up to take it you felt something slimy coil itself around your middle.

In the space of a few milliseconds your eyes widened, but before you could even gasp you were yanked backwards into the darkness.

He was too focused on you to realise what was happening before it happened - if his head had been more on the mission rather than you maybe he would’ve been able to warp fast enough. 

Instead he stood on the platform trying to sense which direction you’d gone, this curse was smart and was at least trying to mask it’s presence somehow. He was sure you’d be okay.

Cursed energy flowed around your hand as you punched the fleshy tendril that took hold of you, “Get off of me!” you shouted into the air. Every time you struck the curse and was able to get free another disfigured limb would take it’s place.

It’s lucky it took me by surprise.

As you became more and more frustrated, you felt your curse energy flowing faster. One of the fundamentals of Jujutsu was to maintain your cursed energy output regardless of your emotions to avoid burn out.

Something you’d been rather good at is expelling large quantities of cursed energy without the burn out - most sorcerers could never achieve that.

“I said, get the fuck off of me!” you bellowed, a wave of cursed energy exploded from you like a sonic boom, causing the curse to paint the walls a red-ish black.

Landing delicately on your feet, you groaned. Half from how disgusting that was, and the other half from the fact that the exploded pieces were merging back together again.

“You okay?” his voice made you jump, the sudden jolt of your body made you slip on guts and landed on your back with a thump. Damn his warping, he could at least give a warning. 

He peered over at your fallen form, somehow you’d managed to land with your head directly in front of his dress shoes. Great, now he literally is looking down on me.

“No, I’m not okay!” you huffed, normally you’d keep up the tough guy act until you were alone. But you must have been letting your emotions get to you.

Gojo knelt down and held his hand out to help you up into a sitting position and you graciously ignored it, instead pushing yourself off the floor to make a point.

You cupped your hand and watched your curse energy twirl around your fingers until it formed a sphere in your palm, “Are you hurt?” Gojo placed his hand on your shoulder to try and get you to look at him but you quickly shoved him off, too busy thinking of a revenge plan.

Also, you weren’t sure how you’d react to touching him. 

The things about your relationship with Satoru Gojo: you’d known him for 10 years, he’d been your biggest bully for 10 years and for the last 5 you’d been in love with him - like every other woman he came into contact with.

You absolutely did not want to become one of them. Discarded to the side lines when he was done.

So, you kept an arms distance from him, both physically and emotionally. At some point along the way you started this act of disliking him, and it was working but you weren’t sure what would happen if you felt his skin on yours without his infinity.

“Get behind me.” he commanded you in a lower voice, the curse had almost completely reformed itself, “No way.” you bit back, throwing your ball of energy at the curse.

It stuck to it’s sickly body for a moment, you glanced over your shoulder at the crease in Gojo’s blindfold. Ah right, he hasn’t seen this one yet.

“On second thought...” you corrected yourself, taking a step behind him just to let your ball of energy explode, sending chunks of guts hurling in the air.

This time you were safe and sound behind your meat shield. You watched the blood and guts slide off of his infinity, slightly disappointed that he didn’t get covered in it.

Gojo lifted his middle and index finger, letting a small purple ball form above the tips, and when it got to the size of a marble he threw it at what remained of the curse.

Granted, his explosion was bigger and louder than yours, but it seemed like the curse was finally dead. “Show off,” you snapped at him while rolling your eyes, “Yeah, but you love it, don’t you?” he turned his head to the side, smirking. “Yeah, I do.” you folded your arms.

Wait, that’s not what I wanted to say.

Your words seemed to take both you and Gojo by surprise. “Was that supposed to be an attempt at sarcasm?” he belittled you, striding over to the largest part of the curse’s limp body, “No.” you said before you could stop yourself.

What the Hell is happening? 

Say calm and he wont notice.

“A genuine compliment? From you? That means the world.” this time he was the sarcastic one, he kicked some of the guts with his shoe and let it tumble to the floor.

Not trusting your words, you stayed silent and watched him for a moment before turning on your heels and heading for the exit.

“Where are you going?” he called after you, “I’m leaving!” you shouted back, thank God you still had some control over your mouth. Your whole body, specifically your tongue was tingling and it scared the shit out of you.

Within a few seconds he was walking next to you, your hurried pace easy to match with his long legs, “Aw, bored of me already?”, he feigned sadness to irritate you.

“No.” you huffed through heavy breaths. Shut up, shut up, shut up. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking but you could at least try and limit it to one word answers.

“Hey!” he grabbed your arm with a tight grip, you tried to pull away but his grasp was firm, “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” he fired two questions at you, “I don’t know,” you panted, “I don’t feel right.”.

For once in his life he seemed genuinely concerned but all you could think about was his hands on your upper arms. “Stop, talk to me.” he tried to calm you down.

You stayed silent, and your mouth let you.

“You said you don’t feel right? What’re you feeling?” his thumb started rubbing reassuring circles on your skin, “Warm and tingly.” you blurted out.

Okay, so it’s only when he asks me questions? 

He cocked his head to the side curiously and you hoped it was vague enough for him not to connect the dots. “Let go of me, asshole.” you growled at him, feeling more like yourself. 

Almost as quickly as your own attitude changed, so did his. “Okay, sure.” he shrugged and released you, “Anyway, there’s a cute little café about five minutes from here that I’d love to take you to.” he said casually as you started to walk towards the exit again.

You wanted to tell him to get lost, or to keep dreaming, but the tingling became more intense and your skin got even warmer so you stayed quiet in hopes that he’d get the message.

“So, what’s your ideal first date?” he asked like some cheesy dating show host. He had to know, or at least he was feeling more playful than usual because of your vulnerable state.

The tingling feeling travelled up your stomach and soon is was creeping up your throat, you couldn’t hold the feeling down anymore, it was like you were going to be sick.

“P-Probably, something quiet-” you clamped your hand down over your mouth and muffled the rest of your answer into your palm, the moment you stopped talking you were gasping for air. This was harder than any training you’d ever done.

“What is up with you?” he laughed through his words, you were already exhausted from the last bout of word-vomit so the next answer came prettily quickly, “I can’t stop myself from talking.” you whined with annoyance.

Then he went strangely silent, it made you nervous. The both of you hoisted yourself back up to the main platform so you were off the tracks, just a little while longer and you could go home and wait for whatever side affect this was to wear off.

When he started lowly chuckling to himself you felt your blood go cold, “What?!” you snapped at him, “You’re freaking me out.”, he continued his laugh until he stopped walking, making you halt your pace as well.

“I get it now,” he wiped under his blindfold as though he was wiping away a tear from laughing, “How the curse was made, hearing that repeated phrase-” he stopped talking to stand up straight again, “-You can’t lie.” he grinned devilishly.

You tried to stop your eyes from widening but you were sure he noticed, “I need to leave.”, “Do you?”, “No.” the exchanged happened so quickly that you got whiplash.

“So, why are you in such a hurry to get away from me?” his smug grin never left his face.

Just say, 'I want to go home’, that’s all you need to say.

“I’m scared I’ll say something I don’t want you to know.” every muscle in your body was tensed, if you could clench your jaw tight enough, maybe it wouldn’t come out. But it wasn’t working.

When you’d realised what you’d said, you turned on the spot and started sprinting towards the exit, you needed to get far far away from him until this was over.

Then you collided with something hard, that something being Gojo’s chest. That fucking warp!

“What don’t you want me to know?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you in place, “How I feel about you.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Please, please, please don’t ask!

The corners of his mouth curled up into a wicked smile as he looked down his nose at you, the grip on your waist getting ever so slightly tighter.

“Okay okay! I see that look,” you could almost see his eyes flicking between your left and right iris under his blindfold. “What look?!” you snapped back rather harshly.

He quietly laughed to himself, “The murderous look in your eye,” he paused for a second, “But you don’t want to kill me do you?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. 

Normally you’d spit something like ‘If I could, I would’ his way but the moment you opened your mouth to speak, “No, I don’t,” came out instead.

“Aw, how sweet!” he cooed sarcastically. You could tell he was enjoying every second of this. He let go of your wrist and latched onto your wrist instead, walking you towards the exit, “Let’s get you home and cleaned up,” he stated.

He lifted his head up as though he was expecting a reply from you, but when your body allowed you to stay silent he added a “Would you like that?”. 

Despite the furrow of your eyebrows you let out a meek “Yes.” which earned an even deeper smile from Gojo.

In his defence, he left you in silence for the whole journey back to your apartment; although you felt a significant shift in his energy once you stepped through your front door.

“You can go now,” you huffed, shuffling your shoes off and immediately making your way to the bathroom so you could wash the dried blood off your hands at least.

Gojo tutted as he followed you down the hallway. “That’s no way to treat a guest!” He watched you start to scrub your hands clean as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, “And besides-” he continued “-Someone should stay with you just in case the curses effects get worse.”

You harshly turned the faucet off and gave him your most lethal death glare, “Well, I want a shower so you need to leave,” you peeled your shirt off of you and dumped it straight into the bathroom bin - there was no saving it from that curses residue, it was ruined.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he inspected his nails casually as though it was no big deal to him, but he had a slight lint to his voice to suggest that he was challenging you.

In some ways, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d seen you in your underwear before, back when you were both students.

“Leave!” you stood firm as you started to shimmy out of your pants, “Do you actually want me to?”, “No.” Slipped through your lips before you could stop it.

If his ego was visible it would’ve filled the room three times over by the stupid look on his face.

You sighed a “Whatever,” and proceeded to take off your underwear and dispose of them the same way you did your other clothes.

It was easier to be fully naked in front of him when he had his blindfold on, you knew he could obviously still see but you could still hold the illusion that he wasn’t sharing at your body.

“Happy now?” you smiled sarcastically at him and proceeded to turn the shower on, “Very,” he nodded and observed you.

He stood quietly against the doorframe as you leaned into the shower and turned the water on, the sound of water hitting the tiles was a nice change to the ever-tightening silence.

“So,” he started up again - of course he wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for long - “If you don’t want me to leave...” he let his sentence hang in the air.

You knew how it was going to end so you stepped into the shower and prayed that the water running over your ears would be enough to drown out your guest. “Sorry, can’t hear you, the water’s loud!” you said with sarcasm.

For a few deafening moments, everything was still; save for the sound of the shower. You didn’t trust it. The only thing worse than Gojo talking was when he wasn’t, because it meant he was up to something.

You turned to pull back your shower curtain to see whether he’d left, when Gojo stepped into the shower with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he smiled, “How inconsiderate of me! Can you hear me better now?” he raised an eyebrow at you and you realised that he’d taken his blindfold off as well as the rest of his clothes.

“Yes!” you squeaked and turned your head to the side to avoid eye contact with it. He placed his palms against the same wall as the showerhead and leaned over you, blocking the water from running over you and instead cascading it down his own back.

You refused to move away, even in your vulnerable state, you were determined to keep your pride.

“So, as I was saying-“ his smirk crept up the corner of his mouth as you dared to meet his eye “- if you don’t want me to leave, what do you want me to do?”. 

The cocky expression that his face held made you want to scream, but you knew that wasn’t going to come out of your mouth. 

Instead of having your thoughts aired to him, you slapped your hand over your mouth as you did previously, and mumbled your confession into the palm of your hand.

Casually he gripped your wrist in one of his large hands and pulled it from your face, “The fact you’re doing that gives me all the answers I need,” he planted a gentle kiss onto your wrist just above where he was holding you.

You opened your mouth to tell him that he was wrong and to let go of you, but you realised that you could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted to.

The twinkle in his crystal blue eyes said that he realised that too.

He let go of your wrist and dragged the pads of his fingers down your side, outlining the silhouette of your body until he got to your hip - where he pressed his thumb into your flesh, making you jolt forwards.

He continued to trail his fingers along your skin as though he hadn’t done anything, his slender tips venturing lower and lower until they stopped on the inside of your thigh.

He leaned in so his lips were inches from your ear, “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered. He could’ve said anything, but he just had to ask you a question when he knew you couldn’t lie, “No.” you replied bluntly.

You swore at yourself under your breath. Of course you didn’t want him to stop, but you didn’t want to become just another number in his head. 

Somehow you’d managed to keep your name out of his ‘black book’ after years of pining for him - you didn’t want to give in and then be ignored by him for the rest of your life.

But you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted him, badly.

As soon as you gave him the answer he was looking for, he slipped his hand lower and immediately pressed the pad of his middle finger against your clit.

You gasped at the shock it gave you, but you quickly regained your composure enough to shoot him a quick, “I’m genuinely surprised you can find it!”.

He laughed through his nose and stared at your shit eating expression; even after a mission, with a curse’s lingering effect on you, somehow you still managed to challenge him.

The expression on your face fell pretty quickly when he started to rub little circles against your sensitive nub, instead it contorted into a look of bliss.

Your knees buckled and you fell against him, unintentionally trapping his hand in between your bodies as he wrapped his other arm around your waist so he could hold you against him.

“I- I-” you kept trying to speak but the barrage on you meant that any attempts at speech were cut off by gentle whines. 

For some reason he showed you some mercy and slowed down enough for your brain to form a sentence, “Go on, what is it?” he encouraged you, water running down his face and dampening his white locks.

“I hate you,” you said shakily, and he stopped all his movements save for momentarily letting go of you so he could push his sopping hair out from his eyes.

He reached behind you and turned your shower off, the only sound bouncing off the tiles was your laboured breaths and stray water droplets hitting the floor.

“Do you mean that?” he searched your face for an answer before your voice would give it, “No, I don’t.”. This time you couldn’t tell if that was the curse or you speaking.

A wicked grin crossed his lips as he yanked the curtain back and stepped out of the shower, swiftly grabbing you and pressing your front against the cold surface of your counter top.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he tutted playfully as he kept you bent over with a single hand on your lower back, “You could’ve really hurt my feelings!” his voice was laced with sarcasm.

The palm of his other hand caressed your ass cheek before giving it a gentle slap. 

His hand disappeared for a moment and you were about to turn your head to see what he was up to when you felt something warm tapping against the cheek he’d just slapped.

The wet feeling of, what you presumed to be, is pre-cum spread across your skin, “Do you want me?” he asked in a voice that was almost a whisper. You bit down on your forearm so he wouldn’t hear your answer.

A loud tut came from him moments before you felt his fingers slide into your hair and yank your head backwards, “I want to hear your answer, I said do you want me?” his voice had an aura of annoyance to it.

Your mind didn’t have time to warn your mouth, “Yes, I want you!” you cried. 

At your admittance, he pushed himself inside you. The lack of preparation meant that he met a bit of resistance against your tight ring of muscle but once you felt him push past, he slid the rest of the way in with ease - the angle he was holding your head meant that your moan was able to glide up your throat freely. 

A quiet sigh of ‘Oh fuck’ came from behind you as Gojo started to softly rock his hips, squishing your body between his pelvis and the counter.

His pace started off slow and calculated, but as his groans and your whimpers grew louder his resolve seemingly slipped away from him - he untangled his fingers from your hair and decided to grip your hips instead.

His fingernails, while short, were digging into your flesh just enough that you were sure there would be little crescent moon shaped indents left in their wake.

As moan after moan left your lips, you started to lose sight of why you’d resisted his advances for so long. 

Every smack of his hips against your ass reminded you that he’d offered you exactly this at least once a week since you met and you’d responded with a scoff of disgust or just flat out ignoring him.

Every laboured breath fogging up the mirror prompted the memory of you throwing your drink at him when he tried to kiss you at his promotion party. 

The sour words ‘I can do better than you, Satoru,’ holding an ironic embrace around your thoughts as they were flooded with the sensation of his shaft rubbing against your insides.

When one of his hands left your hip to entwine his fingers with your own, and his lips landing feverish kisses on the back of your shoulder, your mission to protect your pride felt more like blind sighted stubbornness.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he mumbled almost drunkenly against your skin. For once in your life, you sensed no sarcasm, cockiness or arrogance in his tone. “I th-thought, ah! I thought you r-really did hate me,” he struggled through his sentence.

His pace increased, as did your own sounds. You couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for waiting so long to give in - you were sure you’d have buckled eventually, but feeling your orgasm tighten so quickly inside of you made you realise how much time you’d lost by digging your heels in the mud.

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” he spoke breathlessly. You unconsciously tightened around him, causing him to groan loudly against your skin, the fact that he’d seriously thought about fucking you heightening your senses.

He straightened his posture and used your hips to pull you back onto him and meet his thrusts until the new angle forced your orgasm out of you unexpectedly, washing away any last piece of stubbornness you had in you.

The mixture of your moans and the way your walls gripped him had Gojo finishing shortly after, he attempted a few more shallow bucks of his hip as though he was in denial of it being over, but he was spent.

He silently helped you clean up, turning the shower back on again and helping you into it like you’d gone back in time and he hadn’t just fucked you over your sink.

“Are you going to leave now?” you asked quietly, the sad realisation that now he’d had you he was probably going to throw you away like he did the many other girls before you.

His movements stilled for a second, “What?” he furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely hurt.

“Isn’t that what comes next? You got what you wanted and now you ignore me,” your cockiness from earlier had completely disappeared, “Is that what you think of me?” he asked.

You didn’t want to reply, but the feeling of your words being forced out of you returned - it wasn’t as strong as before so you were able to control how you told the truth. At least that meant the curse’s effects were wearing off.

“That’s what I’ve seen you do to others,” you shrugged sadly and reached for your shampoo bottle. 

He took it out of your hands and squeezed a bit of the gel onto his own hands and started to massage it into your hair for you.

“No to you, you’re special” was his brief reply as the gel turned into a light lather. You didn’t need to verbally say anything for him to understand that you didn’t believe him, it was in your eyes.

He leaned down and gently kissed you on the nose, a genuine soft smile spreading across his face, “For me, it’s always been you.”

taglist: (bold means i couldn’t tag)

all:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic  @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane​

[sacredsorceress]

Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys. 

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand. 

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat,  pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

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[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

[AU, SMUT] What Are You? | Bucky x Steve x Reader

Category: AU, Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Mafia themes, derogatory language, intercourse Ship: Steve x Bucky x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky Are Planning Some Work With a Client, But What Happens When That Client Doesn't Respect Their Girl? Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 2.6k

—

Almost everyone knew - there was no doubt about that. Everyone should’ve known, at least, but those who didn’t pay enough attention… sorry for them.

Everyone who heard the sound of the heels clacking against the marble flooring would straighten themselves up as if the sound was coming from the men themselves.

Which men? Oh, which men indeed.

That’s not to say that the woman couldn’t have any kind of friendships with any of the men in the building - she does need a little bit of platonic fun here and there.

“Slow down, Aphrodite, you might chip the flooring.” A mocking voice calls from behind her. Despite it being from a familiar face, the other men still stiffen as if they were the ones doing wrong.

“You might shatter the mirrors if you look in them for any longer.” The woman retorts as she attempts to hide the grin that forms at her own comeback.

The man, however, doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he turns his strides into a jog to catch up with her.

“How do you even know how often I stare in the mirror? You spying on me?” Sam asks, the pair glancing at each other and both now smiling.

“So you admit that you stare at the mirror, and not just look at it?” The woman tactically avoids his question with her own retort.

Sam’s laugh echoes through the corridor they’re walking through. It’s quite spectacular really - some would mistake it for being a palace. A place where only the good-willed people reside. Almost a shame that it’s full of the likes of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steve Rogers - the two men who own just about all the power there is in New York, let alone Manhattan.

“You know they’re not done yet, right?” The man quizzes, a content smile still on his lips as his hands rest in the front pockets of his black trousers.

The woman doesn’t respond, simply nods.

Sam catches it out the corner of his eye and simply shakes his head.

“You have a habit of interrupting their meetings.”

“And you have a habit of saying things that might get you killed one day.” (Y/N) answers, but her gentle smile admits that that’s not entirely true.

Her attire consists of a loose but very fitting crimson dress that sits mid-thigh, along with the matching red heels that are buckled around her ankles. A simple silver chain around her neck that has two small, but very expensive, black and red diamonds resting in the centre of her collarbone.

“Tell Steve that his car’s being valeted if he needs it anytime soon.” The man comments as he turns off down another corridor, different to (Y/N)’s route.

She simply nods again.

Why is it that she’s heading toward her husbands’ meeting? Because she’s interested in seeing how it will end. The man who has been persisting to speak with Steve and Bucky for the last sixteen months is desperate, to say the least. He wants investment in their three hotels that are situated across NYC, in Queens, Brooklyn and Manhattan.

She was the one who decided on where those hotels would be built, so she wants to see the man, John Walker, crumble as her partners’ pretend they care, only to tell him no.

It might seem like a waste of time but in reality, it’s to see how the man deals with hearing the word no, and whether Bucky and Steve need to deal with him.

“Ma’am.” Christopher greets as (Y/N) approaches the door of the conference room that her men are in.

“Chris.” She responds, nodding her head as he opens the door for her. “How’s it going, gentlemen?” The woman adds as she casually struts into the room, grabbing everyone's attention.

There’s a moment of silence as everyone turns to look at the woman who’s interrupted their meeting. Steve and Bucky simply smile as they take a moment to admire their wife.

“Excuse me?” John is the first to speak up and everyone’s attention turns to him, including (Y/N), who doesn’t seem phased by his evident frustration.

“You’re excused.” Her response is simple but ignites a spark inside of the man.

“Do you usually let whores just stroll around and cause inconvenience in their wake, gentlemen?” He asks, but his eyes remain on (Y/N).

The woman’s eyebrows raise, and a surprised but impressed smile etches its way onto her face. She says nothing. John stares at her with a quirked brow, waiting for a response from the two men his question was directed to, so obliviously aware of the fearful stares he’s now getting from everyone else in the room.

Bucky and Steve’s heads turned very slowly, in sync, back toward their guest, their smiles now distorted into that of pure fury.

“Would you like to say that again?” Steve speaks up first, John now turning his head toward the boss in curiosity of his sudden change of voice.

That’s when the man notices all the stares on him. His eyebrows furrow as he acknowledges everyone’s expression. His eyes flick from the other men in the room to Bucky and Steve, to (Y/N), and back to the two leaders.

He gulps.

“I said: Say. It. Again.” Steve enunciates.

“Come here, doll,” Bucky speaks up also, his eyes flicking from John to (Y/N) for a brief moment, his arm opening up and inviting the woman to situate herself on his knee.

The woman obliges, striding over to her husbands and letting the brunet’s arm wrap around her as she sits.

John’s eyes haven’t left Steve’s, too mortified to even blink, but he catches the action of Bucky and (Y/N).

Steve’s eyebrow quirks, reminding his guest that he’s waiting. And Steve hates waiting.

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t know she was- gentlemen, please, look, this is all a big misunderstanding, I just-”

“Called our woman a whore and an inconvenience.” Bucky finishes his sentence, his expression just as murderous as Steve’s, despite the soothing actions of his hand stroking his wife’s waist.

“I didn’t know she was your-”

“And you think that excuses it?” Steve interrogates. “You think calling any woman a whore is acceptable? An inconvenience?”

John gulps and the sound echoes in the room. His eyes flicker away from Steve’s for a moment to the woman herself, intentionally or not, but his eyes drop to the prominent cleavage on display.

Bucky smirks at the action that most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by himself.

“Sweetheart,” Steve begins, John’s attention darting straight back to the blond’s once more. (Y/N) hums in response. “Who do you belong to?”

(Y/N) bites her lip, core throbbing at the obvious dominance and possession of the two men.

“You and James.” She whispers, Bucky’s hand gripping her waist tightly at the use of his birth name.

The sweat glistening on John’s forehead is clear as day.

Knowing what’ll get everyone in the room riled up even moreso, (Y/N) turns herself around so she’s facing Bucky, sat on his lap, legs on either side of his body. Everyone else in the room keeps their eyes firmly locked on the glass table or the white ceiling.

A pleasant hum resonates from the brunet’s throat, his hands naturally adjusting to rest on her hips.

The moment John’s eyes flicker to (Y/N) once more and then drift down her back, a gun is cocked and metal is pressed firmly against the back of the man’s head.

The woman goes to turn her head around to see what’s happened but Bucky’s lips locking with hers prevents that from happening. She whimpers against his mouth and he absolutely adores it.

“Bend over this table for me, doll.” The man murmurs. “Let’s show Mister Walker what a proper whore looks like.”

The excitement that sparkles in his wife’s eyes makes his cock throb between his legs.

“Yes, sir.”

The pet name makes both men throb.

The woman stands up and turns herself around, making sure every sway of her hips is a show to be watched. Her eyes lock with none other than their security lead, Tony Stark, who’s holding the gun up to Walker’s head, as she bends herself over the table, dress drooping at the front to display her cleavage.

Tony’s eyes don’t even flicker away from her own. The staff in this building know better than to try and indulge in what is rightfully Bucky and Steve’s. John, however, sees this as a prime opportunity to stare at what he believes he’s being offered, his trousers getting tighter.

(Y/N) sees it. She finds is humorous.

Bucky’s hands slide their way up the backs of his wife’s bare thighs, pushing up the crimson material as he reaches it.

Her eyes flutter shut and lips part in satisfaction at the feeling.

“Tell us what you want, doll.” Bucky mumbles, sitting the bottom of her dress at the base of her back, grinning at her lack of underwear.

“Touch me.”

The explicit word that escapes John’s lips are heard clear as day and he knows it, face once again panicking as he looks back at Steve, whose expression still hasn’t changed.

“Where do you want me to touch you, princess?” James continues, not paying an ounce of attention to anyone else in the room right now besides his missus.

His fingers stroke the top of her inner thighs, seeing her soaking wet core already dripping down them.

“Want you to touch my pussy.” (Y/N) breathes, eyes flitting open barely a millimetre.

James presses soft kisses on his wife’s ass before sliding his middle and ring finger lightly over her slit. The action gets a mewl out of her.

Fifteen men in this room in total, only two of them can touch this woman yet all fifteen are dreaming about it.

“Move.” Steve states, prompting John to widen his eyes once more, but this time the words aren’t directed at him.

Bucky grins and obliges, removing his hands from his girl and stands up.

(Y/N)’s eyes open fully this time as she whines in complaint at the loss of contact, but a large smack on her ass distorts her whine into a large gasp.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, sweetheart.” Steve states, manoeuvring himself so he’s stood directly behind his wife, Bucky casually pulling his own gun out of his inner blazer pocket and wiping it down with his hands.

John’s face stays facing Steve, but his eyes follow Bucky as the brunet moves behind him and out of his sight.

Tony takes the sign to back away and let his boss take over from here.

Steve has no shame as he unbuckles his belt, undoes his trousers and pulls out his rock-hard cock, stroking it with his hand a few times while his other hand returns to Bucky’s previous actions.

“You see that?” Bucky whispers in John’s ears, prompting the man to gasp and jump in his seat. He gulps again but remains silent. “I asked you a question.”

The man frantically nods, fearful for his life, and absolutely humiliated.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Steve murmurs, leaning down and moving her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck.

Before the woman can even respond, her husband thrusts himself inside of her in one go, (Y/N)’s back arching and moaning so loud that Christopher can probably hear outside the door, and Steve’s head being thrown back, his own moan equally loud.

Bucky almost loses his composure if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew not to falter when making sure a man like John Walker was wanting his woman.

“Fuck…” Walker whispers, lips parted as he stares at the woman in front of him being railed by none other than Steven Rogers.

“Keep watching because this is your death wish.” Bucky whispers, John’s eyes widening. “Does she look good?”

John nods his head almost desperately.

Her moans only get faster and louder as Steve fucks her.

“Remind him what you are, sweetheart?” The blond groans, grabbing the woman’s hair and pulling her head back so she’s more or less face-to-face with Walker alongside her other husband.

“A whore.” (Y/N) practically begs.

“Louder.” Steve demands.

“A whore!”

“I said: fucking louder!”

“A WHORE! I’m your whore, sir!” She screams, John losing it and standing up to lean forwards but a gunshot firing beside his head makes him stumble back down to his seat.

(Y/N) flinches are the known noise but settles quickly as Bucky strokes her face with the hand that’s not holding the freshly-fired weapon.

“Don’t you fucking dare move an inch toward our wife.” Bucky threatens to the man he’s leaning over.

John gulps but nods, not taking his eyes off (Y/N).

“Is she inconvenient now, Walker?” Steve asks, glaring daggers at the man. He only shakes his head, eyes only meeting Steve’s for a split second. “No?” He breathes. “Then what is she?”

The guest falls speechless, shaking his head as his eyes flicker between Steve and (Y/N).

“Hot as fuck.” He whispers, Bucky growling in his ear.

“Fuck!” (Y/N) cries out, desperate eyes staring at Bucky’s, who smirks at her state.

“Think our girl wants to cum, Steve.” He comments, John panting in his seat.

“Yeah? You wanna show this scum what a good girl you are for us, baby girl?” Steve grunts, not slowing down but rather speeding up as he too reaches his peak.

The woman’s head nods in desperation, face flushed as her eyes flicker across all men in the room, including Tony’s, who simply winks at her before removing his stare.

“Say it, doll.” Bucky demands.

“I wanna cum.” (Y/N) gasps, watching her brunet lover shake his head.

“Gonna have to do better than that, doll.”

“Please,” She begs. “Please, daddy. Sir. Please, let me cum!” Her voice screams, Steve grunting in response to the feeling of her squeezing his cock, milking him for all his worth.

“Cum, baby girl.” He permits. “Cum like the whore you are.”

And how she does.

Her scream could shatter glass, Christopher would be concerned if he hadn’t already established the differences between the woman’s fearful screams and her pleasure-filled ones.

Taking full advantage of Bucky’s distraction, John leaps forward to get a taste of the woman who’s almost passing out from the pleasure, but that’s the last move he makes as a bullet is shot through his back, knocking him down onto the table.

Tony doesn’t seem phased as he shakes the smoke from his gun, settling it back into his pocket.

Making sure the woman doesn’t collapse atop the, now dead, man on the table, Bucky holds her up while Steve sorts himself out before pulling her back across the table and into his lap.

“You okay, sweetheart?” The blond whispers, smoothing the hair out of her face.

(Y/N) nods but keeps her eyes shut as she rests against her husband’s chest.

“Words, baby.” He requests.

“M’okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Two of the security men alongside Tony head over and remove the body from the room, Bucky asking for someone to clean up the mess whilst walking over to his two lovers.

“We okay?” The brunet murmurs, Steve smirking and nodding before both paying attention to their girl who’s still half unconscious.

“Does anyone else in the room have anything to say before we carry on?” Steve asks, everyone shaking their heads frantically. “Good, now leave.” And they do.

“You okay, baby doll?” Bucky whispers, cocooning her cheek with his hand.

The woman nods and manages to open her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“That’s our girl.”

Tag List

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