#GOOD MORNING TO ME INDEED NONE OF YOU LOOK AT ME FOR THE NEXT FOUR HOURS

[todayisafridaynight]

GOOD MORNING SHOW ACQUIRED !!!!!

EYEAAAAAAAAH

[httpswritings]

@alexiaps94 has liked your profile — Alexia Putellas x Reader

Word count: around 648

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Alexia match on an exclusive dating app.

“@alexiaps94 has liked your profile”

That was first notification you saw when you first checked your phone in the morning, still half asleep.

Some days ago, you signed up on Like.ly, an app similar to Tinder but extremely exclusive. The app was directed to wealthy people and reputed celebrities. You had to e-mail the company and wait if they accepted you on the company. If you were, you had to go through an interview where they'll ask you all types of questions, as the company itself would look for some potential matches to get you started. They did not succeed to your liking. They matched you with all sort of celebrities, but nobody properly caught your eye. 

You weren't a football fan, but you knew who Alexia was because of the expectation she woke up when she won her second Ballon D'Or and when Spain won the World Cup, as the press talked non-stop about the different problems with the federation, especially about the incident during the final. 

You clicked on her profile. Her profile pic was a picture with her dog, Nala. She had more pictures uploaded; you could see her with her family, her friends, her team and by herself. You scrolled down to the “About Me” paragraph.

“Hi! My name is Alexia. I like playing football, spending time with my family and learning new things. 😃”

“Cute”, you thought. You hesitated about what your next move should be. You liked her profile but decided to not write her yet. 

“Hi. I saw your profile some days ago and you seem lovely. I'd love to hear from you”. You hated the way you wrote that text. “Y/N, you want to get to know her as a friend, maybe as something more, this is not a business meeting”, you said to yourself. Your text was fine, you were only overreacting. If you knew they way Alexia reacted to your text, you'd feel more than accomplished with yourself.

“Hi, Y/N. Thank you! You seem really lovely too. I'm seeing that you have four cats! Wow, that's some good company. I think a get along better with dogs because I've been around them my whole life, but the cat life sounds fun too. 😸”

You chuckled as you read her message. “She's indeed very lovely”, you thought. 

“Yeah, so damn crazy, but it's quite fun😸😹” You had never used those emojis. Weird. Adorable but weird.

As you kept talking during the week with Alexia, you got to know her better. She told you about the passing of her dog, Nala, and how bad that affected her. You told each other about your life: family, friends, place of work. She even taught you a little bit of football, and you were so entertained you couldn't quite believe it, as you never showed any interested in football except for some random matches of the men's world cup. You started to educate yourself in women's football.

“Can I call you?”, was the message you received from her on a Saturday night. You had spent the whole day rotting on your sofa and talking to Alexia until your eyes started to feel really heavy. As she called you, and you responded, you started to breath uncontrollably rapid but at the same time, you felt so comfortable listening to her. Alexia's voice was soft, and her laugh sounded so delicate, you felt butterflies in your stomach every time you made her laugh.

“It was nice talking to you, Ale, but we both need some rest, especially you. You have training tomorrow.”

“... I liked hearing you calling me Ale”

“I like hearing you, Ale.”

“God, are you always this flirty?”

“Not in person. I'll have to be a little bit tougher when I'll have you in front of me.”

“No, don't be. I'm pretty sure I'd love the timid version of you. I can't wait to see it.”

[storm-angel989]

It would be an absolute dream! to have a part two to the Vox x Daughter sneaking into his company where she runs into Alastor! No pressure though and if you're not feeling it don't worry about it! Hugs and Kisses Darling!! XOXO

Sorry it took so long! Had to wait for the muse to hit!

<3

Mandy

As the weeks passed by, I began to settle into a much more relaxed routine than what my last few years consisted of. At my fathers insistence, I enrolled in one of the local private high schools. On Earth I kept my schooling current with online classes and courses, but actually going to school was an entirely different matter. My father also insisted I join a sport of my choosing, so after school between homework and lacrosse practice, the only time I saw the inside of my former office was on the rare occasions I could sneak past my father. 

Early Sunday mornings were typically the best time to get a glimpse of my old life. By four thirty I was up, dressed, and my backpack slung over my shoulder. If I was caught, I could use the guise of homework and the need for a change of scenery. 

I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going, semi-asleep with a mug of coffee in my hand. A familiar face in the hallway, and I felt myself stumble. I shook my head to make sure I was seeing who I thought I was seeing. 

“Uncle Al? Is that you?” I squeaked. 

The figure paused and turned around. In life, Uncle Alastor was well known for his relaxed attitude and never ending smile. In death, the smile still existed- but it seemed almost plastered on.

“My dear reader, is that you?” He exclaimed. “Why didn't I expect to see you here!”

I opened my mouth to reply but before I could, I felt myself being pushed back. 

“Reader, get out,” a growl I recognized as my fathers boomed down the hallway. 

I turned and saw the glowing face that was my father storm down the hall. Around us, blue lightening cracked. Alastor, on the other hand, looked unconcerned. 

“What’s wrong old chum? Can’t I say hello to my favorite niece?” Alastor responded with a chuckle.

“Leave her alone. None of this has to do with her!” My father growled back. 

“Don’t think so low of me, I would never involve her in our private affairs. Indeed, reader, it might be best that you step out. But it is good to know you’re local- I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon!” Alastor said cheerfully.

Before I could react I found myself pulled through the camera on the wall and dumped unceremoniously in the living room. Velvette and Valentino looked down at with me concern and I quickly  scrambled to my feet.

“Bebita, are you alright?” Valentino asked. He reached over and grabbed my arm. “Hey, what happened?”

“Uncle Alastor is here! He’s with my Dad and he…”

“Alastor is here?” Velvette asked quickly. 

I watched as she and Uncle Valentino practically vanished from the room. Seconds later, a zap crackled through the room and the lightbulbs around be shattered with blue electricity. 

A flash of fire and my Aunt Velvette’s voice floated through the darkness. 

“Baby, are you okay?” 

I jumped and she appeared next to me. The lights flickered back on and she blew out the candle. 

“I’m fine, what the fuck just happened?” I demanded. 

“Language,” she replied mildly. “Your father’s just pissed off- nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Dad said do your homework in your room today, okay? Oh and you left this in the hallway.” She handed me my backpack. 

“Isn’t anyone going to tell me why we’re all fighting?” I asked in frustration.

“Not my business or my place,” she replied breezily. “And I wouldn’t take it upon yourself to ask your dad if I was you. Take my advice and just let it go. Better off to get your homework done before he comes back upstairs.”

I scowled but slung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way to my room. The way I remembered it, my Uncle Al had been in my life as long as my Uncle Valentino and Aunt Velvette. What in the world could have happened to break up their friendship? With a sign I turned my attention to my backpack. A mystery for another day, I supposed.

[mockerycrow]

I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

a/n: i wrote this after listening to this song. not proofread LOL enjoy. 984 words! also i’m sorry about how i’m basically non existent. i’m trying, y’all </3

[WARNINGS: MWIII spoilers, major character death, grief, mentions of catholicism. pure angst, hurt/little comfort.]

Sixty-seven days ago. Two months it’s been, approximately nine whole weeks. Estimating around ninety-five thousand minutes and over five million seconds. 

It’s been sixty-seven days since.. You know. You always wake up feeling like it happened sixty-seven seconds ago instead. Your eyes flutter open and you take a breath, inhaling a certain kind of heavy and thick into your lungs. Your chest expands uncomfortably in the morning, your ribs squeezing your lungs a bit tighter than before. Accompanied with the tightness of your chest is this tingling feeling, so slight it’s almost like background noise, just like how the past few weeks have felt. They’ve flown by in a flash, but at the same time, are oh so slow. 

Sometimes, you wake up expecting to see him standing over your sleeping form to wake you up after staying up a tad bit too late because he insisted you do so. So he wasn’t lonely because ‘The LT denied me’, in his words. Sometimes, your eyes are sick and twisted towards you. Your eyes are faster than your brain and you see him. You see his shadow so thick you’re convinced until you reach upwards, your fingers pushing through the dark smoke that enters your lungs after you’ve blinked. 

You’re sure the others have noticed the toll it’s taken, despite your efforts to hide. You know they’re hurting in their ways, too. Being in a tightly packed task force like this, you’re bound to know each other's tells. Part of you wonders who is hurting the most. Is it Gaz? The man who’s been the most logical out of all five four of you. Is it Ghost? The enigma of your group? He’s always been quiet, hard to read. Harder since.. Everything. Maybe it’s Price. He’s the one who actually saw, really. The one who watched him…

…

You feel something in your throat bubble, so you push the thought away. 

Then you come back to it. Maybe it’s you who’s hurting most, being his lover. The person he insisted that was his other half he had been looking for. Maybe that’s you being hopeful and cheesy; maybe it’s you being selfish. You aren’t sure. Honestly, you aren’t sure what you should be feeling, nor are you sure how your teammates should be reacting. There’s five stages of grief and everyone’s path looks different. 

Denial – you aren’t sure who you think denial is at first. Symptoms are fear, avoidance. What happened, you can’t avoid it. Not really when he was so integral to the team. Is. He never stopped being. After a few days of people watching, you’ve decided it’s you. You wanted to put it onto someone else at first, maybe Gaz—perhaps Ghost. They’re still.. Living. Going through the motions, at least. But you had to look at yourself late at night, around two forty-five am to ask, “are they the one’s waking up thinking he’s standing over them?”

No. They are not. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

Next—anger. You debated this one, of course it was tied between Ghost and Price but after Shepherd died, of course the Captain took that title with no question. There is a major difference between peaking into the gym, watching Ghost gasp for air after a night full of boxing and then hearing through Laswell the General has been killed. Major difference, indeed. It’s not often your Captain loses his cool and when he does, it’s for good reason. He deserved it, you only wish Price was more cruel.

Bargaining? It’s a no brainer, you decided as soon as you thought of it. Gaz. None of the men cry much, but it wasn’t a surprise when you found Gaz sitting on the steps outside of the temporary base, smoking a cigarette with misty eyes paired with a lost look. A look where he wasn’t completely there; lost somewhere, maybe in thought, maybe back in that moment. In the moment where he had to ignore his mutilated body to focus on the bomb. On the fact that Makarov was getting away. He lit a second cigarette.

Maybe it doesn’t quite fit him, but Ghost was the last one to decide for. Depression is what you ended up assigning him. There’s not many words for how you could describe him. Ghost’s been flighty, quiet yet hostile. He never means to snap at any of you of course, you all know it. You can tell from the heavy, long look he gives you after snarling at you like a cornered dog. He’s just sad and scared, something you can understand on a deeper level. With him, it feels like beckoning a wolf with bits of meat—a wolf who isn’t afraid to bare his teeth. You’re willing to get bit.

Then… what’s left?

Oh, yeah. 

Acceptance. Left for the one who is forever missing.

In a way, it feels wrong. You know he’ll never be able to move on like the rest of the world can. It feels even worse when you realize only a select amount of people will know about his death—the world won’t know who he is. Work in the dark to serve the light, hm? What a fucked world. After spreading his ashes across the hills, it feels like he’s become one with the Earth. Maybe that’s his form of acceptance; going back to what housed him. The green roots and blue skies. The rain that pours down over the ruined cities you’re crawling through, the beautiful stars and planets above you during a late night in God knows where. You see him everywhere.

You hope God is taking care of him, as you rub your fingers over his cross necklace. The last thing you have left of him; his dog tags sitting in a memorial on base. You may or may not believe, but Johnny sure did. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s alright.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

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tagged when you don’t want to be? let me know! no hard feelings <3

[heliads]

All in the Words

Based on this request: "race and some of the newsies are hanging out with yn and yn is acting all tough. They keep trying to make her drop that attitude by making jokes, and race flirts with her as a joke. Yn gets all nervous and blushy so he just keeps going thinking its adorable until yn fires back and he kinda dies"

me when i flirt with someone and they instantly perish

masterlist

Dawn comes and goes, and you are not there to see it. Normally, this would fill you with more than a small amount of fear– miss your morning schedule, and you’ll be hours behind when it comes to selling newspapers. Newsies live in the daylight hours, shouting slogans and catchy headlines as long as there are still people out on the street who can see enough to hand you coins. It does make it difficult to get up so early each morning, but it’s not like you have a ton of options otherwise.

Yet when you open your eyes this morning and see not sunrise but a well established day, you feel not a bit displeased with yourself. After all, why should you? Today, as it turns out, all newsies across the city will have a day off. The newspapers don’t like printing on holidays, so you can get off scot free for the whole set of twenty-four hours. Nothing says special like that.

For newsies, days off are a bit of a mixed bag. There is, of course, the immediate response to hearing that you won’t have to get up at dawn and spend too many hours out on the streets hawking papes. That would explain the shrieks and calls of glee from some of the younger newsies. Older ones, too. The second Jack Kelly heard about the holiday, he muttered something about having to talk to someone and hurried off in the direction of the New York Sun. You have a feeling he’s tracking down a particularly pretty journalist.

It’s great to think that you won’t have to work. However, you aren’t a newsie for the thrill of it. Not working means you don’t get paid, and that’s far less fun than one would care to imagine. That’s why you’ve been carefully saving your pennies for weeks now, just trying to make sure you’ll have enough to cover today’s costs before your job comes back the next day. It’s a life spread thin, to be sure, but it’s what you’ve got, and you don’t intend to waste it.

Still, sleeping in is pretty nice indeed. You allow yourself one last moment of leisure before dragging yourself out of bed. Most kids in the Manhattan Lodging House have partaken in the same delights– more than half of them are still sleeping peacefully in their bunks. You do your best to get ready as quietly as you can, and shut the door silently behind you.

By the time noon rolls around, the rest of your friends are up and at ‘em. Most of you are choosing to either kick back and relax in the Lodging House or go look for trouble somewhere else in the city. You heard Spot popped in once to check on a deal with Jack, but other than that, there are no threats in sight.

None to your physical health, at least. Threats to your peace and quiet still exist. You’ve barely sat down on your favorite threadbare armchair in a corner of the main room (the title being won by a good few rounds of fisticuffs, all solidly settled in your favor) before your name is being tossed around by some of the newsies nearby. You have a feeling that they’re trying to be discreet, but their whispers sound more like shouts when you’re indoors instead of yelling to be heard in the streets of Manhattan.

Four boys are causing trouble today, as it appears. Race, Jojo, Albert, and Romeo. All of the newsies are good friends– you have to be, at any rate, or you’ll lose your head with the godawful conditions of being outside all day– but these four are no exception. They’re the closest of anyone here, exceptions being Jack and Crutchie.

Today it seems they’ll be proving their camaraderie by trying to get a rise out of you. This isn’t anything special. You have a bit of a reputation for being stone cold, but can they blame you? Girls have to fight twice as hard to stay alive in this city, so what if you’re more here to keep yourself afloat than make friends? You’re nice when you have to be, but you keep your distance when you want it. Just because you’re not flirting all the time doesn’t mean you hate the rest of them.

The ‘Hattan boys know you don’t hate them, but that doesn’t stop the four newsies nearest you from trying to win you over anyway in the only method they know best:  being annoying and turning everything into a joke. Romeo tries his luck first, shooting his shot with a tip of his cap and a wink. You arch one derisive brow, which is all it takes for him to give up and head back to his friends.

Albert is next. He starts off strong with a story about a dream he’d had last night about pretty girls going out with him, but you cut him off thoughtfully with a recollection of a dream you’d had recently where all boys left you alone under pain of death. Struck out, he gestures for Jojo to take over.

Jojo’s attempts at flattery are so awful that you give up on trying to entertain yourself by watching them fail. You reach over for a paperback Katherine had left behind on her last visit to the Manhattan Lodging House. The book serves the dual purpose of letting you ignore the laughter of the boys and also hiding your face for the last of their attempts.

See, you can ignore Albert or Romeo any day. They’re just friends, just coworkers. You’ll never see them in any sort of romantic light. The problem comes with Race. Race is charming. Race is cute. Race is the only one who has ever been able to get through the strongest of your walls. It doesn’t matter if he’s just doing it as a joke, if Race flirts with you in the slightest, you will be affected by it.

Best to make sure he can’t tell, then, so you prop up the book in front of your face and pray he can’t see the slight smile that makes its way across your lips when Race tries his hand at flirting. It wasn’t even a good pickup line. Still, it worked, and that is absolutely devastating to your reputation.

The worst part is that he knows it, too. Even though you do your best to act as if you’re absolutely fine, you can tell by the triumphant tilt of his head that he knows it. Y/N’s got a weakness at last, and it’s Race. Of course it is.

The other boys don’t seem to have caught on, though, they’re just laughing raucously amongst themselves about the usual. Albert calls something out to Race about wanting to go take a tour of the shop next door, but Race doesn’t even look back, gesturing for them to go on without him without turning even once.

“You should go with them,” you say as indifferently as you can.

“Why?” Race asks, cocking his head to the side, “I’ve got a far prettier sight in front of me right now.”

You roll your eyes, but even you can feel the slight heat pricking your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“Apparently not,” Race muses, “or you wouldn’t be smiling at me.”

You do your best to hide the offensive expression away, but your best attempts at staying serious just make your smile more stubborn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says happily, “it’s not just because of me, is it? I bet Y/N L/N would never be susceptible to something like a boy.”

“Not even to a cute boy?” You ask, eyes wide with pretend surprise.

This, of all things, makes Race stutter over his words. You didn’t think it would be possible for Race to get nervous over someone flirting with him, but apparently you were wrong, because he’s all but shaking in his boots right now.

“That’s sweet of you,” he manages to eke out.

You grin. The tables have turned. “Funny,” you say, “I didn’t think Race Higgins would ever be susceptible to something like a girl.”

“I love it when you pay attention to me,” Race retorts, but it carries far less of the easy confidence he’d had earlier. In fact, Race looks like he can’t believe his eyes.

“I’m sure you do,” you muse, “Shame it doesn’t happen more often. If I knew you were going to react like this, maybe I would have started flirting back earlier.”

“I think you should keep doing it anyway,” Race whispers.

You laugh. “Only if you flirt back.”

“Oh, always, sweetheart, you know that,” Race says.

It’s easy to smile after that. Maybe Race has been flirting with you for a while, but maybe he’s meant what he said all along, too. It’s good that you’ll have plenty of time to figure him out, then. Yes, plenty of time indeed.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

[not-so-allegiant-general]

Meeting the Starkiller! I finally had some time.

Previous parts: MEETING 1| MEETING 2 |MEETING 3|POE DAMERON

MEETING 4

"General." Lucien nodded entering the room. Hux snorted. This man was really something else. Hux could easily imagine… He blinked and eyed Lucien carefully. Yes… He could easily imagine…

"Good morning, Lucien" He hummed.

"I talked to Poe Dameron. He told me that you two are talking, which is… a surprise for both of us. But he… Looked kinda shaken."

"I liked talking to him. He was honest." Hux was surprised by his own words but well that was indeed the truth. He liked talking to Dameron. Because the pilot was honest. He was talking openly about everything, not hiding anything, and that was somehow… New. Hux was wondering how does it feel to be like that. Fearless.

"Well… What were you talking about ?'

"None of your business,"

"It's taped you aware right?"

"Then watch it." He sipped his nutritional shake. Lucien sighed. Why did he expect that well-rested Hux will be less stubborn?

"Alright. Since you obviously feel much better maybe we can go back to the main topic."

"Great. I woke up. And I was bored. I ate. And I was bored. And then guess what? I was bored."

Lucien pinched his nose bridge and it was delightful. Hux smiled watching him, with actual amusement in his eyes. Now. That's entertaining.

"Another stressful, scary meeting, Lucien?"

"Alright. I will get for you something to read if you start cooperating."

"Deal. But my stage of cooperation will depend on the quality of it."

"And what will get me the highest cooperation."

"A notebook and a pen. Appreciate that I am not pushing it and asking for datapad."

"Nobody of a sound mind would give you a datapad here. A notebook and a pen. And I will get it for you if you will cooperate today. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Already regretting fixing my sleep schedules aren't you?"

"No. It is good that you are well rested and that you eat" but his eyes were screaming YES I DO. Hux smiled smugly and sat straight looking at him. Waiting for the move. Lucien gathered his thoughts for a brief moment and put his datapad aside. "You said damaged. Why? Is it about your life in general or… Some particular aspect?"

" It's… Yes." Lucien blinked.

"Yes? To what?"

"I don't know. And it's not my lack of cooperation. I just can't tell you something that I don't know. I just always felt that way. Because I was always the one from whom something was taken. " his mother, his safety, his life, his work, his lover, his freedom. "And I know why I am that way. I don't need you to come up to some big realization or turn in my life. The game you are trying to play here was already played. Again and again. I accepted it long ago how I am. " I had someone who accepted it then. " Because after certain things there is no coming back, right Lieutenant or was it something higher? Captain maybe? “

Looking into Lucien's eyes was divine. He froze looking at Hux, redhead smiled and didn’t look away. Instead, he leaned glaring at Lucien with pure joy “Ah. There it is. Let me think. You are a trained medic… They did not cage you so I would bet it was either Lieutenant and you cooperated well or FOSB as their archives are hard to crack they might not have access to it… And I would say it’s FOSB, you were always keen on messing around with people’s heads am I right? Long Imperial tradition. Loyalty officer wandering around Renovated Republic as who? What lie did you sell them, Lucien?”

Lucien stood up without another word and left his cell. Hux smiled with satisfaction, but there was something bitter to it.

He sat there victorious, but the only company he had were four empty walls.

Next part: coming soon!! 👀👀

[harmonyckrs]

Act 4, Scene 5 of Twisted Veronaville: An Unraveling World

THE LAST PAGE

Bottom: So, who was that?

Puck: Ripp, and one of the most...interesting people that I had ever met. He reminded me of Tybalt, but if Tybalt was...insufferable and unlikeable.

Bottom: So, regular Tybalt?

Puck: I mean, he didn't try to fistfight me, at least. And I don't think he's inherently bad. Just...I don't know. Very overwhelming.

Bottom: Wow.

Puck: ...Do you think it's possible that aliens are replacing people who get abducted by them?

Bottom: Beats me, I'm ten. I don't think about that kind of stuff.

Puck: Fair...I'll just...avoid thinking about it...

Ripp: Well, that was Puck. Also the next time we talk to someone, at least give them your name before going on a racist rant about aliens.

Tank: I was just concerned, because of his ears.

Ripp: You made him uncomfortable and by now everyone probably heard about what happened. But luckily, there's a lot of other people in Veronaville you can try to befriend that'll hopefully look over what you did.

Tank: Who else is there?

Ripp: Besides Tybalt and Mercutio, there's Juliette and Hermia. Both of them are pretty cool. Not to mention-

???: RIPP! THERE YOU ARE!

Ripp: ...Romeo.

Romeo: Mercutio's missing, and it's YOUR FAULT!

Ripp: Woah, what the fuck? He's missing?

Romeo: Yep! If you hadn't set him up with Tybalt, none of this would've happened!

Tank: Hey, back off! He was only trying to end the feud!

Romeo: You know what would really end the feud? If all of the Capps just died!

Tank: What's wrong with you? Isn't one of them your ex?

Romeo: Yeah, and? We're not dating anymore, thanks to him! Now get out of my way!

Tank: No!

*RING RING*

Ripp: (Finally, a chance to get out of this mess!) I'll go get that!

Hamza: Hello, Rippert. Is Aktu there?

Ripp: That's not my name. And why should I tell you if he is?

Hamza: It's not? Your dad actually just named you Ripp?...wow, he's a lot stranger than I thought. Anyway, just give Aktu the phone.

Ripp: No.

Hamza: Oh, I get it. Your dad told me you would act out a lot. You're mad at me because I'm an antagonist, right? Stopping you, Sita and Aktu from messing up the plot of the story and all?

Ripp: That and the kidnapping.

Hamza: Oh, right. Well, I'm sure you must hate me. It must irritate you to hear my voice over this phone. Which is why you should just give it to Aktu.

Ripp: ...Answer my...three riddles...first.

Hamza: Hm. Well, alright. Not to brag, but I'm pretty good at solving riddles. Give it to me.

Ripp: (Oh shoot, I didn't think this far.) Can I have some time to think of some first?

Hamza: You asked me to answer your riddles when you don't even have any? What sort of joke is this? At least go with a basic one like "what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening" or something like that!

Ripp: Wait, what's the answer to that one? I've never heard it before.

Hamza: Seriously? That's the most basic riddle! The answer is a man! You would've gotten eaten by the Sphinx with this little knowledge!

Ripp: What does the Sphinx have anything to do with this?

Hamza: You uncultured swine, that's the origin of that riddle! The Sphinx asks Oedipus that riddle and it made him the tyrant of Thebes because he answered it correctly!

Ripp: I don't know what any of those words mean.

Crystal: Wow, he's really going at it.

Aktu: Yeah. How long do you think it's going to take before he realizes I'm not even home?

Crystal: Hard to tell. And he's talking about riddles of all things. Imagine if Ripp asked him about something that he was actually interested in, like tech or witchcraft.

Aktu: Indeed. Oh, and sorry Sita threw you under the bus earlier. We were getting a bit desperate, and Zoya was being pretty annoying.

Crystal: Oh, no worries. Hamza didn't even mind. Said something about how "he'll always love me no matter what I do." He's taking this fake dating thing really seriously.

Aktu: (Didn't they have fake twins together?) Yep. No hard feelings though, right? Maybe we could all get sundaes together once this is all over.

Crystal: Yeah, that'd be nice. Just like old times...it's a shame Vidcund and Lazlo couldn't join us this time, though.

Aktu: I wonder where those two are. It's been a while since I've talked to either of them.

In an unusual series of events, Zoya had somehow managed to track down Vidcund and Lazlo's location and bring them to Veronaville. And the three had discovered something else earlier in the day, too - the coffin holding Tybalt's supposedly dead body.

Zoya: To think that Aktu and Sita made clones of your parents to guard Tybalt...

Lazlo: Yeah, that was wack...probably not the weirdest thing we've seen, though. I'm more surprised Crystal was helping them.

Zoya: (Crystal's not the only cloner, is she?) Well, we should prob-Hey! You! Where do you think you're going?

Tybalt: I'm going to find-

Zoya: Nope! No! Absolutely not. You'll be staying with us.

Vidcund: Zoya, maybe we should just let him go.

Zoya: And let Aktu and Sita get the upper hand again? I have to complete what we started. And besides, they defiled your parents' graves! Aren't you upset about that?

Vidcund: They always liked Pascal more.

Zoya: (Well, that's messed up.) Let's just capture him before he gets too far, and bring him with us.

THE NEXT PAGE

[mikeysbabygirl]

Hii, your writing is so good, I can't wait to read the next chapter of dead girl tells no tales!! I hope I'm not bothering you but can I request virgin reader x Rindou?

More skin, more sin

Warning : Minors DNI, 18+. Strong language, explicit smut, pussy drunk! Rindou x virgin! Reader, protected sex.

Synopsis : Once upon a time, a young innocent girl exploring her sexuality, her sexy neighbor, and a mistake from the postman.

(Yes it's me, Rindou. I'm the virgin) and thanks a lot <3 I'm always happy about hearing your feedbacks on Dead girls <3

Also,for people who made requests,they are coming don't worry ! I might be taking my time to write but I promise it's only bc I'm trying my best

√

-" So, about Friday's par- wait !" Shion suddenly stopped talking about the Haitani's usual Friday night plans, got up from Rindou's bed and rushed to the window, right where Rindou was sitting in front of his DJ setup.

-" who's the hottie?" He gestured toward you, standing in the middle of your room with a book in hands. Rindou glanced at the latter, at his wide-eyes and mouth agape state, then his eyes drifted toward you.

You AKA the perfect girl next door, moved in three years ago into the house next to theirs, and into his head, by the way.

Not to get the things wrong, Rindou was not the type of guy to fall for any girl who flashes a smile, he was not the type of guy to fall at all.

But when every morning, he was greeted by popping lips, smooth hair and glowing skin on the window across from his, it was hard not to get distracted from whatever songs he was mixing.

He reached to shut the curtains, earning a frown from Shion standing next to his desk and a scoff from Ran who was leaning against the doorframe.

-" Way outta your league".

-" Not a crime to dream " that one shrugged, then opened the curtains again, and there you were again, in your short pink skirt and white t-shirt tugged inside, your usual hairstyle, reading and swaying your hips at the rhythm of probably a song you were listening to, Rindou glared at Shion but that one was too busy smirking at the sight.

-" She's Rindou's little crush " Ran mocked his brother who gave him a lazy middle finger without even turning to peer at him.

-" I don't have a crush " he denied, it was all but credible, you were the secret he could not keep, and the goal that he never seemed to reach.

-" And she's not my type-"

-" Oh yeah... young, nice ass and good grades, definitely not your type " teased the elder, Rindou snorted.

You were everyone's type, indeed. Seventeen, face of a dream and a straight A student, that was the problem, you were everyone's type.

Rindou was not staring, but he might have caught four or five times a lot of friends coming and going out of your room. And Rindou was not staring, but he might have caught a sight of you in your cheerleader outfit every Wednesday night. And Rindou was not staring, but he might have saw you going out on almost all of your weekend nights.

But Rindou was not staring. It was just that your damn curtains were almost always open, and the desk you usually work on was just in front of his window.

-" she's a good girl, Ran " he argued, yes you were, and what he meant by that was that the smart pretty popular girl of the high school would never look at someone who left classes to be in gangs.

-" Meh, good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught ".

-" That's right man " Ran lips curled as he approached the window, leaning on his elbows on Rindou's desk to get a better look at you.

-" Look, isn't that a french book ? " He gestured toward the cover of the book on your desk, none of them could distinguish the title yet France's flag adorned the cover, the youngest Haitani rolled his eyes, with however a smile curling his lips, knowing already what his brother was about to say.

-" I bet she's fluent in French, If you get what I mean-"

-" that she speaks french ?" Shion had a lost expression on his face, which made the brothers look at each other in exasperation. Yet from the moment you turned around to pick up another book, both amethyst eyes and black ones were pulled, your skirt riding up your thighs as you reached for the bookshelf was the tide.

-" Nice ass tho !"

Rindou's eyes widened, Ran's mouth opened wide, and the third one winced figuring out he had yelled too loud, causing you to stiffen and turn your head toward them.

-" The hell-... ?" Your blood ran cold, perceiving three guys staring at you with wide-eyed gazes, then the words that just reached your ears registered in your brain, causing you to drop the book in your hands and walk toward the window.

-" She's coming here ! Bet she-"

Shion's voice dropped as you faced them, revealing your pretty face and two middle fingers in the air, fierce eyes sending daggers at them before closing your curtains in a sharp sound.

-" well... " The one at fault started, scratching his neck under Rindou's dark glare and Ran having trouble containing his laughter. " At least she noticed you... ?"

In truth, you had noticed Rindou Haitani long before that. How not to when your neighbor was ruling the whole town with his brother ? How were you supposed not to notice him when he was the reason you never stayed home the weekend considering the huge mess of their Friday night parties ?

You had never thought of him more than a troublesome neighbor, moreover now that he appeared as a pervy. Yes, he was handsome, yet if you closed your eyes just enough what would remain of him ?

It was only a week after that disastrous incident that the Karma decided it was time to knock at Rindou Haitani's door.

His teenage dream rang his doorbell dressed in cute white Mousse short top and shorts, source of all distractions wore a stern face and had her arms wrapped around her when he opened the door.

-" Hi, sorry to disturb" you flashed a smile, one which couldn't humanly be more fake, yet his heart missed a beat. " I was wondering if you could, possibly turn down the volume of your music ".

And as in good source of distraction, inner thief stole his eyes, heart beats and words. Just a decade-looking second where Rindou Haitani let his eyes roam the raw art you were in the middle of their yard, an angel standing between his friend's motorcycles.

-" usually I don't say anything, but usually is Friday night ". You could not help but add, crossing your arms, not from the cold outside but from the goosebumps running over your skin along with his eyes.

Getting snapped out of his thoughts, Rindou frowned. Indeed, they were throwing a party a Thursday night, yet it was only a small one with only some of Kantou Manji members.

-" It's a small thing actual-"

" Man I don't care " you cut him off, he stiffened. " I just wanna sleep".

-" It's only midnight".

-" And unlike you, mister " too cool for school" I have classes tomorrow. So, turn down the volume, thank you, next. "

You went to leave him there, starstruck in the middle of his own front porch, yet something clicked in his mind in a nick of time, his hand reached for your wrist and pulled you back, his chest pressed to your back as you gasped in surprise at the strength he put on that move.

-" Be a sweetheart and repeat that f'me, Would'ya ?"

Your body went stiff, and you were afraid his grip on your wrist would leave aches so much it burned. Yet in all fires resides warmth, and warmth had always something dangerously comfortable.

-" turn, down, the, damn, music. " You had uttered through gritted teeth, turning to look at his so close face when you tried pulling your wrist but he didn't let you, and oh from where did he got that mesmerizing eye color ?

-" Make me. "

Intoxicated with every breath he took your perfume invaded his nostrils, and when you glared at him with the street light's glow on your face, you were life in excess. And when he had thought, like the moon you were beautiful from afar, this close, he found you resplendent.

-" I might not be able to, yet I can call the police who'd be able to make you. "

His eyebrows raised in surprise, he approached his face from yours, nose brushing thus against your cheek, enjoying the way you closed your eyes slightly. And as your flowery scent enticed him, he began to see you as a wild flower, something to tame.

-" you mean the police that we pay bribes to every month?" You eyed him with contempt from head to toe, his tough hand reached for your jaw that he grabbed not as roughly as your wrist. " You better sit and take it, Love. B'fore I make you take it myself. "

Rindou Haitani decided you were his new favorite plaything the minute he saw you shivering under his threat, yet reached for his hand around your jaw to scratch it until he let go.

-" Fuck you. "

-" But love, I'm the one who fucks here".

He chuckled, you decided it was enough. He obviously didn't took you any seriously and all those bikes around were not a safe sight at all. Suddenly pulling on your wrist until he let go in a smirk, you didn't turned to look at him as you walked back to your house, another middle finger wrapping your shame and incredulity.

Things could have stayed the way they were, yet he has caught enough of your fire to match his gasoline, Rindou Haitani never was a one to fear a wildfire.

Already dripping anger and grudge, back to your room you sat on the wooden desk facing your window, your head throbbing at the rhythm of the music. However a sharp pain traversed your scalp all of a sudden, making you startle and lift your head.

For the pure pleasure of your eyes was there none other than Rindou Haitani, sitting behind his DJ setup, a smile stolen from Satan himself distorting his features while he increased more and more the volume of his music. If he had been a thirsty man, the clench of your jaw would have been an Oasis, though most of his friends and gang members were in their living room, his only attention was held by a seething you.

-" I swear to god-"

Sharp as a knife you stood up and turned to reach for the phone on the other side of the room, yet the devils on your shoulder seemed to wake up from their slumber, demanding.

Revenge !

People would often say Eve was Satan's weapon, only on a raging night like that would Eve and Satan fuse, merged into the shape of a young, irresistible angel wearing white Mousse.

Music was source of all temptations, they said, you were the temptation when you started, in an agonizing rhythm, swaying your hips.

His smile faded quicker than a sun behind clouds, when you turned, it felt as if you had been possessed.

Devil used your body as it pleased, snake itself starting to serpentine, like your hips, around the forbidden fruit, your eyes lured and your lips screamed sin, and soon Adam was, nothing but hooked.

It could have seemed awkward, however it was not the case. The music was slowed just the right way, the moves you knew by heart looked just the right way, your skin your hands caressed, dancing with the devil felt just too smooth, enough to have his eyes widening and the heat conditioning a growing flame in his lower abs.

The tempting snake wrapped around his throat, it seemed, as one of your straps fell from your shoulder.

More skin, more sin.

Standing on top of eighteen years and naughty heavens, Rindou Haitani never felt this aroused. Moon and planets aligned for the universe assets to lend you, for a dance, for a night. Half-lidded eyes, glossy lips slightly parted,a new inch of your sin uncovered with every new second, your top riding your sides with each caress of your hands above them while dancing.

And as the boy with heart-shaped eyes, dry throat and heavy balls currently, wished he had a remote control to slow down the show so it would last longer, it suddenly crashed !

In a split second, you were in front of your desk again, bare shoulders, neck and almost bare chest teasing him, a forbidden fruit he could never taste, the devil was cruel.

-" Now you sit and take it. " The devil whispered louder than the music.

And the curtains closed, the show was over.

Eve, Satan, and the sin left the sinner for judgment.

•••

Moirai.

They are three goddesses of fate who personified the inescapable destiny of man. Some books describe them as old, ugly and cruel, others as beauties of eternal youth.

Only there is sometimes, where fate can be portrayed by a mindless postman.

Once upon a time, a young innocent girl exploring her sexuality, her sexy neighbor, and a mistake from the postman. A sunny morning where the Moirai dressed as a book you had ordered, and delivered to none but your nemesis, Rindou Haitani.

Funny how, sometimes the love of your life might come at you wrapped in a package. Something you didn't even ordered in the first place, even.

-" What are those ?"

Hands busy with the freshly unwrapped headphones and head filled with confusion, a handful of minutes later, sitting at your kitchen counter and thinking, your eyes flickered.

-" Wait, if these are here... "

A slap from a Moirai was harsh but enough to wake up a human being, get them up on their feet and start running as a dark horse outside.

Exactly where they wanted you to.

-" Shit, shit... God please don't make him open it"

Almost out of breath, you rushed to the Haitani's doors and banged on the door too hard for your own good, being gritted, minutes later by a sleepy Ran Haitani.

His pissed off expression faltered into a lazy smile when his eyes landed on you.

-" Well, isn't it a little bit early for Christmas gift ? Tho I'm so excited to unwrap this one ".

-" where did you get that pick-up line from ? A cereal box? A shampoo bottle?"

The laughter leaving his mouth did nothing to ease your stress, you saw he was about to add something yet cut him off.

-" I think the postman made a mistake " you started, rubbing your neck under Ran's curious eyes. " I've got delivered probably Rindou's headphones, didn't he got something on my name ?"

The older brother seemed to proceed it in his head, then shrugged it off, stepping aside and leaving you enough space to enter.

-" might just ask him, think he'd be happy to have ya in his room ".

Sighing loudly, you ignored the latter and entered the house. The architecture was similar to your own house therefore, you had no trouble finding the room across from yours, and swallowing a thick amount of air, you knocked on the door.

-" come in ".

Fate was rubbing its hands together.

The reception was of an unparalleled cruelty, from the first step inside this room you were confronted by the cruel fate.

-" Sex for the dummies huh ?"

Your nemesis was shirtless, standing in the middle of his room with the one weapon it took to destroy your whole universe, that book.

And to think you were just looking for some... Experience.

He saw red twilights painting your cheeks, funny how the tables turned and the devil was now on his side, Satan never was trustworthy.

-" This is personal, I... Give it to me dammit !"

You approached him and stretched a hand toward the book, in a nick of a time his long arm raised above his head and if he was already taller than you, that definitely was beyond your reaches.

-" So from the very first day, all of this anger was just about sexual frustration? Damn, baby, you're pathetic. "

-" I'm not sexually frustrated, give me the damn book if you want your headphones back. "

Your glared at him, and he could not help but notice how your eyes glowed even more when you were angry.

-" You can keep them, this info's worth its weight in gold. "

-" You bastar-"

-" Shhh, love ? Want me to shout on every rooftop how tight this pussy is ?"

As waves of desperation crashed against your body, your arm fell limp on your side. Fate a scarf tightening around your throat, no escape.

-" Fine. What do you want ?"

Your surrender painted a smirk on his face, one which, if you weren't that irate, would've looked like art.

-" I jus' wanna help ya. Y'know, might have some... Years of experiment on my sleeves.

-"You're blackmailing me into sleeping with you ?" In a frown, aghast, you had witnessed his smile falling and his impassive face turning sterner.

-" I'm not one to touch a girl unless she truly wants me to. And someone like me doesn't need blackmailing to get a girl".

Your hands felt heavy as the book he was holding flew toward them in a split second, your eyes widened, watching him going to sit back on his bed, leaning against the headboard, strong arms stretched behind his head, blonde and blue locks framing his pretty face.

Heaven ! Did the Gods like him to mold such a great look.

-" Take the door, pretty. And come back when you'd find someone better to take your pussy. "

-" I'd rather take this door and bath in citric acid than sleeping with you. "

And you did took that door, that damn book in hands, thinking naively it was not one of other's fate twisted plans. Yet you didn't passed the threshold of the devil's house yet, didn't even made a step further from his bedroom door, that you were diving knee deep in the spirals of questioning.

The question itself was not if you wanted to, nor if you would eventually find someone else to initiate your sexual life, nor if you did it with one of your classmates would the news about the highschool most popular cheerleader still being a virgin.

The question itself was, why were still standing there, if you actually didn't want to ?

It goes smooth, your best friend had said.

It doesn't have to be perfect, it will not.

It is none but a passage's rite, it gets even better after the first time.

And you don't have to overthink it.

You could almost hear her soothing voice telling you to hop in the drive, that repairing a mistake is easier than chasing a regret, and you could feel your defenses crumble, brick by brick, stone by stone, until you were nothing but carnage behind his door.

-" God... " You ran a hand through you hair, hoping to chase the thoughts out of your head.

Little did you knew, destiny already had you already dangling up its vicious strings. None of you knew it, back then, when you opened that door again, catching his smirk.

Yet both of you were none but puppets on those strings, strong and bold for what would be lasting longer than what you'd ever imagine.

-" It's only a one time thing. "

You had demanded, closing the door of every returning possible.

He had you watching, while he was preying. In all its grandeur, the predacious stood up, wearing hours of workouts on his skin.

Sin.

Another step, the cages were closing in.

Another step, he found you enchanting, morning seemed to love you even more than the moon, for the sun wouldn't stop kissing your silk skin, the rays wouldn't stop lightening your eyes, and if he looked closer enough, he could see you gulping down when he was only a few inches away from your face.

-" So tell me, babe, how's the citric acid?"

Flashing his Colgate white teeth, purple ocean engulfed you along with his cologne, and you could not help but think.

It was only logical for the devil to wear the best faces.

-" Fuck you. "

Yet not because you were an angel meant you wouldn't get in the dirt. And the angel's stubbornness, her pretty face and fierce eyes on him, and her pretty mouth spitting filthy words brought hell's heat to his lower belly.

-" I've told you before, and you didn't listened... "

The shiver you had just felt could not have been a figment of your imagination, since the hand he's put on the small of your back.

-" Now I gotta show you, I'll be the one fucking you."

Hatred, what else could have your heart racing that way ? And who other than repulsion itself could have you holding Rindou Haitani's eyes as if they were the most precious and fragile thing in the world ?

One second from the great apocalypse, one move from heaven and hell shaking hands...

One inch from the cursed kiss, a devil and an angel flew around each other. He was red, and you were holy, and when his lips moved against yours as he spoke, all the saints were damned.

-" have you, the slightest idea, how long I've been wanting these lips ?"

At this point, he was whispering the words against your mouth, and if he wanted to, he could've kissed you. Yet Satan was a player, with his hand on the small of your back starting to lower, you were playing his game.

-" why's the tease for ?" You murmured back, appreciating the fleshy but soft texture of his lips against yours, feeling the stretch of a smile, the next thing you knew he lifted you by your thighs that you wrapped around him, heaven and hell collided.

You were quite sure he groaned in your mouth, but was it his fault when the world was none but a rug pulled beneath his feet ? They were soft, and tasted fruity-like, just as he might have imagined it.

And you might have no sexual experience, but for sure you had kissed before, right ? You did all the rights and no wrongs, sharing his guts-knocking kiss. Dancing with the devil was more than just a figure of speech, the wet muscles swaying around each other like old waltz partners.

You had not expected him to, but when the soft mattress met your back, Rindou Haitani put you down on it rather softly.

The situation was already awkward enough for you to bear, or it normally might have been, therefore you aimed for taking off your top yourself, under Rindou's standing figure.

His eyes went wide, seeing you wore no bra, you were home previously after all, those lavender irises were none but a thin helpless ring around an expanded abyss of dark desire. He'd seen naked and pretty women before, there was just... That something about you, about the way your breasts bounced almost elegantly as your back hit the mattress again, about those half-closed eyes and that thin shy smile.

The waiting, must be the waiting, the words felt somehow comforting back then.

-" Why's the shyness for, love ? You're damn too fine ".

You bit back a scoff as he straddled your body, knees sinking on each side of the mattress, his face was pulled helplessly toward your lips again, while curious hands introduced themselves to your clavicles and would soon greet your chest.

-" Too much for your own good " you recalled he had whispered, it turned too hazy the second he kissed you again, and the cold air of the room along with his expert fingers toying with your breasts and nipples were enough to have you too engrossed in the sin to ever think about retiring.

-" Rin'... " You didn't intended to breath his name when he pulled from the kiss to squeeze your tits, but oh god was he thankful you did it, had his crotch throbbing between his legs.

-" Yeah baby ? Feels right ? Gonna mark this princess's body. "

You arched your back, abdomen getting more sucked in his mouth as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along your bare skin, he was not one to take his time so much, however this time, he enjoyed everything, the scent, the faint taste of your skin, the way your hands reached for his hair when his hands started sliding down your panties, eyes smoldering seeing the already wet-spot welcoming him.

-" spread 'em legs f'me, Would'ya ? Atta girl"

And just like that, heaven opened its doors for the devil. What a shame he had found solace between an angel's legs. The welcome was too good for him, too pink for his darkness and too wet for his dry hell.

Might Adam tell, if the forbidden fruit's scent have been the thing that kept it impossible to not sin ? Rindou at least must say it did.

And might Adam tell, if the forbidden fruit tasted heaven nevertheless? As for Rindou, he must admit it did.

-" Oh shit !"

-" Can't believe I'm the first to taste you, now show me all the pretty sounds you can make for me, love."

You'd not only make pretty sounds, even symphonies if he wanted to, he was gifted with it, grazing your clit with his teeth while smearing the wetness along your folds. You've caught your body grinding against his face for more, his bored eyes landed on you as you tried to contain.

-" C'mon, use me to get off. Wanna have ya all over me ".

He cut your restraints with a sharp tone, there you were second later, riding his face , moaning shamelessly his name and pulling the hoarsest of sounds of him because of your hands tugging at his hair. His lips swallowed your clit, making it swollen, then he added a second finger to the one already invading your puffy walls, eyes almost widening when your walls swallowed them.

-" Shit, my cock's gonna ruin this pussy, can't fucking wait. "

Grinding his hips slightly against the mattress, too hard to resist, the sight was intoxicating. That soft hair he caught you brushing was sprawled on his pillow, those ass cheeks were on his mattress, the half-lidded eyes were bewitching, and looking at none but him, last but not least, those swollen lips were moaning his name.

-" Rin', 'm so close, so fucking close, please don't stop, please, please... "

-" Shhh, I got my pretty girl, not gonna let her down ".

As he promised, as he did. He pulled out of you the probably greatest orgasm you would ever know in your whole life, he took from you your loudest moans, and the prettiest faces your rolled back eyes and agape mouth could make.

As for you, you stole his eyes, attention, thoughts, and sanity.

-" If I see this damn face cumming again might keep ya tied to my bed " he grunt and stroked his cock a few times, staring with star-studded eyes at you riding your high.

You pulled, pulled and pulled like the tide and who were the waves to deny the moon ? You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, back on top of you with his hands massaging your breasts again, goosebumps running over your epidermis, overstimulated.

And when he pulled back, resting on his elbows, you wondered, did you really knew Rindou Haitani? His smirk was not there, and his eyes bored into your face, seemingly way too far gone as his hand pushed some hair locks out of your pretty face.

Did you knew he was only thinking about the one that would have you after him ? That he was cursing the time for not stopping there, right at this moment to let you inside his room forever ?

-" Don't know if it's the orgasm, but I swear you've never been this handsome ".

Through an unsteady breath you had uttered, albeit Rindou Haitani had tried drugs before, no one warned him about the teasing half-tired half-aroused smile his neighbor could give, looking him in the eye as her hand stroked his cheek. Chest aching with something stronger than lust, lavender hues drifted down your lips then back at your eyes again, and he'd say something, really, yet you drank him in your eyes and he was afraid if his mouth opened, he would only thank God you were even thirsty for someone like him.

-" 'right, lemme show you how much I've been craving you".

In a room filled with sin, a holy union was born, a daydream bloomed in the darkest paradise, started with his warm precum staining your sensitive folds, ended with the stretch and fullness you felt as he slided inside you.

Now Rindou Haitani was not the good guy, quite the bad guy actually, yet he did his best not to move, not until your pain would falter somehow. His head was thrown back, shallowed breaths escaping his pretty lips, he was too engrossed in the way he has never felt as wanted and welcomed anywhere else.

Did it felt like that, to achieve something that seemed impossible ? You have been the beat in his head, a tune that never left, dancing to that beat his heart leapt, you were the thought that would sometimes keep him distracted from his mixtapes, the joke Ran would pull everytime to tease him.

For a monster like him, you were just a dream, a glimpse of life not ever imagined, and now being not just in front of you but inside you, making one with the perfect girl next door, you were his hot missing pink in his psychedelic mess.

-" so full-" you had swallowed thickly, wrapping your already sore legs around his waist. His hands came to secure them around him, as his forehead pressed against yours.

-" I know. I got you, 'kay ? Swear ain't moving 'til you're ready. "

Fate's plan seemed to be working way too well, since every word of him would make you question the image you had of him and every smile or glance of yours would make him wish you'd find it good enough to stay, stay... He had never wanted someone to stay.

-" I think... It's okay if you move now " few minutes and the sweetest torture of his life after, you smiled at him, gripping his shoulders. The Haitani's lips found yours in a quick kiss, swallowing your moans after he started thrusting slowly in and out of you.

-" Feels so damn good " he hissed through gritted teeth. " Never had something like this, like you ".

And the praises would only increase the heat building in your stomach, your teeth found his shoulder, keeping you grounded as your walls throbbed around him.

The desire was damning, his body slamming, breaking down in a fit. Your glossy eye color flickered under his gaze, though he was losing it he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

-" Too much, I can't take-"

-" You can and you will. You're my best girl, pussy's made f'me, yeah ?"

He peppered kisses all along your face, stopping a split second to wonder from where did he got those gestures he never used with someone else ?

At the touch of carnality's urging, that pleasure heightened. Lust drips visceral cadence from the skies between your thighs,and his body with licks of bliss, electrifying finger tips made you come undone again, playing with your clit.

-" Rin' !" You had screamed his name in a last prayer before reaching the seventh sky.

-" Oh fuck, you're killin' me " you heard him groan somewhere in the middle of your orgasm again, Rindou gripped your hips tighter, keeping himself grounded for as long as he could, he had no desire to let go.

-"you're doing so good for me, love. Gonna lemme have you again, yeah ? My girl's such a good one, know she'll make it for me, right ?"

At this point, you were none but a whimpering mess under him. The meer sight, desire flooding your brain as gibberish escaped your lips, the feeling of you walls clenching so tightly around him, and the grip you had on his arms were his last station, especially when another filthy moan filled the celestial dark paradise.

Then finally, as the first cry of a newborn Rindou reached the highest sky, filling the condom with thick white ropes.

If he had to put words on what he felt now, laying above your body as your hands caressed his hair, a fever dream. Something to be thankful it happened and to be offended it ended.

As if lying above a cloud, he could sense you absorbing all his wickedness, how was he damned, now with your perfume lingering everywhere in his room.

If he wanted not to get all hooked, that ship had sailed long ago.

Devil doesn't bargain, it is either everything or nothing, indeed when he lifted his face slightly to bear at your smiling one, stealing a heart beat from him, a smile, and a clench of a jaw, you stole everything.

-" I know you said it's a one time thing " you had no idea of the one who was talking, Rindou Haitani or a possible flicker of jealousy or the crave still eating out on his guts, yet his impassive face and usual frown reappeared, relentless his voice turned, he was not asking, it was not a question.

-" but ya know... You might need extra lessons, just to be sure you got it right ".

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[writeforfandoms]

How Did You Love 7

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Here we finally are back again with chapter 7! I know I’ve been doing day by day so far, but I think we’re gonna start seeing some skips because I would like to finish this story sometime in the next decade. (Just kidding. I’m aiming to have it finished by the end of this year.) 

Let me know who you want to see featured next chapter!

Also of note: the little village described is supposed to be Holly Village, Highgate, London. The restaurant is based on a real restaurant in that area.

Warnings: Swearing, feelings, Jack is far too charming, Ezra and Fox are conniving busybodies. 

Word count: 2.7k

After that, of course, you had to keep actual tabs on the days. This was day 4. (And that by itself was a little odd to think. That four days ago your life had been so different. That you had only known these men for four days. It was… honestly, it was a little freaky.) 

You spent the morning wavering between being listless and frantic. It was hard to reconcile everything, to know that you had to make a decision that would change the fates of others. You hadn't found your happy medium yet, which is how you ended up organizing everything in the pantry and fridge. 

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and you went to go answer it. 

Jack stood on the other side, thumbs tucked into his belt loops, charming smile in place. 

"Mornin', sugar," he greeted. "I was hopin' you'd agree to accompany me for lunch, of you're not busy." 

"Oh! No, I'm not busy. Um, sure. Let me just do something with my hair." 

Jack chuckled softly. "No rush," he assured you. "I can wait here or over at my place." 

"Don't be silly, come on in." You smiled and left the door open for him, walking further into the house. "Can I get you anything to drink?" 

"Thanks, sugar, but no thanks." Jack stepped into the living room, taking a look around. "Looks almost exactly the same as mine." 

"It's a bit odd," you murmured, taking in the furniture and the walls and the curtains. Every house was virtually the same, with only minor differences in color schemes. 

"A bit?" Jack chuckled. "I'd say more'n a bit." 

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'll be back in a minute." You headed up the stairs to your room. 

And then had to pause because oh shit Jack had asked you on a date. And you were pretty sure it was a date. Oh, damn. 

Okay. Okay. You could handle this. No problem. You had some nice clothes with you. 

It took little time to change and finish getting ready, and you spared a moment to take a deep breath and calm yourself. 

No pressure, remember. 

You nearly snorted at the absurdity of that and shook your head, amused. 

"Ready?" You asked Jack as you came back down the stairs. 

"I am indeed." He smiled when he saw you, wiggling his eyebrows. "And you, sugar, look good enough to eat." 

You smiled, some of the tension falling from your shoulders. "Thank you."

Jack held out his hand, and you fitted yours in his. His hands were big, calloused, but also warm and comforting. He seemed completely at ease as the two of you left your house, and then the property. You did spot Frankie sitting under a tree, but none of the others. Briefly, you wondered about that, and then dismissed it. 

It wasn't your job to worry about them full-time. They were all grown adults, and not your responsibility. At least, not in terms of keeping track of them. 

You were allowed to go out and enjoy yourself. Hell, Nova had all but told you that is what they were for. 

You held Jack's hand a little tighter, smiling. 

"It really is a nice day today, huh?" You looked at him, rounding the corner away from the property. 

"It is indeed." Jack tugged you a little closer to be out of the way of another pedestrian. "All the better for my current company." He winked at you. 

And, sure, maybe it was a bit over the top… but you still giggled. "I agree." 

His smile brightened. "Now, sugar, I do have a coupl'a ideas for today." 

"Sure, lay them on me." You paused at a crosswalk to let traffic pass. 

"I found a little place for lunch for us," Jack told you. "It's no diner, but it looks good." 

"Sounds good to me," you agreed. 

"And then, depending on how far we can go, there are a few theaters around. We could go watch a movie. Or just walk around, if you prefer." Jack started across the street, making sure you stayed next to him. 

"I don't even know what's playing right now," you admitted with a little laugh. "But I am down to do whatever. It's a nice day, and I just want to enjoy it." 

Jack chuckled softly. "I'll make sure you have fun, sugar." 

"So, I know you're from the States. Where do you live?" 

Jack used his free hand to scratch the back of his head briefly, glancing at you before watching traffic again. "I've lived in New York City, and in Kentucky. Grew up on a farm in Kentucky." 

"Seriously? A farm?" You looked at him curiously. 

"Yes indeed." He tipped his head to look at you, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. "What's that look for, sugar?" 

"Just curious. I've never really been to a farm, apart from a few visits as a kid." You shrugged. "I know it's a lot of work, but it sounds kinda fun, too." 

Jack laughed. "That depends on if you like early mornings," he said, grinning. "Work starts early. I used to get up at dawn to go help out. My mama said it kept me out of trouble." He paused, grin turning roguish. "Well. Too much trouble." He winked at you, squeezing your hand. 

"And New York? That's quite a change from a farm." 

"I was working for Statesman Distillery by then," Jack admitted, smooth as butter. "Worked my way up the ladder and got stuck in charge of operations in NYC. Lived there for a while, when I wasn't traveling." 

"Huh." You were quiet for a few moments. "I'm far from an expert on alcohol, but I don't think I've heard of Statesman." 

"They exist here," Jack told you, gently tugging you into his side and out of the way of another group of tourists. "Looked 'em up a couple days ago." 

You nodded, going quiet as thoughts and questions whirled in your brain. Was it odd for him? It must be. There was no way it wasn't. 

"Hey," he murmured. "Talk to me. What's going through that pretty head?" 

"I just…" you chewed on your lip for a moment, trying to find the words. "I mean, it has to be weird, right? To know that the company exists here but you don't? Would you want to go work for them if you stay? I mean, I know that's still in the future and we don't even know what's going to happen, but–" 

"Slow down there," Jack chuckled, squeezing your hand again. "Yes, it is odd. I only recognized a couple names on the site." He paused there, thumb stroking over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "Hadn't much considered the future yet, to be honest. Figured there isn't a point yet, not until we know what'll happen." 

"That's a good point." You sighed just a little. "I feel like we're stuck in limbo." 

"Hurry up and wait," Jack agreed. "But it's not so bad, hm? At least you've got good company." 

"Very good company," you agreed, smiling at him. "I'm just not used to all of this." 

"Which part?" 

"All of it," you deadpanned, making Jack laugh softly. "Going out with someone, being somewhere not home, not having a thousand things on my to do list." 

"Sounds like someone works too hard," Jack teased gently. 

"It's a good distraction." You shrugged. 

Jack nodded slowly, slowing down as you two approached your destination. "That is true," he admitted softly. "But it's also a good way to end up lonely." 

He opened the door for you, ushering you inside. 

A series of small lamps hung from a fixture just inside, bright and cheerful. There were wood tables and chairs, and more hanging lanterns strewn throughout the space. And it smelled amazing - a mix of spices and savory foods that made your mouth water. 

Jack got you a table out on the patio, pulling out your seat for you and ushering you to sit first. The sunlight was pleasantly warm, and the fence and bushes helped to dull the traffic noise. 

"How did you find this place?" You asked, not even looking at your menu yet. 

Jack grinned, sly and amused. "I have my ways." 

You laughed and shook your head, watching a waiter carry a few plates past you. Ooooh those smelled good. You hadn't even realized you were hungry. 

"Here," Jack murmured, sliding your menu closer to you. "Pick out something. Or, hell, pick a few somethings." He grinned at you, eyes crinkling. 

And you had to pause and just smile. He looked more relaxed than you'd seen him, happier. And gorgeous. The sun highlighted his hair, catching on the curl right over his forehead. Those broad shoulders were relaxed. 

Well, you certainly had a good view for lunch. 

The two of you ended up ordering a few dishes to share. It was more fun that way, and everything looked and smelled amazing. 

"Well, whatever your mysterious ways are, I'm glad you found this place," you told Jack, scooping up the last bite onto your fork. "This was an amazing choice." 

"I'm glad you liked it, sugar." Jack grinned. "Have to see where else we can find. Dunno about you, but I like all kinds of places." 

"One of life's greatest pleasures is exploring cultures through food," you agreed. "Especially for those of us who can't travel often."

"I know you mentioned you've done a bit of traveling before," he said, watching you. "Do you hope to travel more in the future?"

You made a face, wobbling one hand in a so-so motion. "I mean, yeah, I'd like to. But. Before all of this, I would have said I doubt I'd be able to afford to travel much." You paused and shrugged with a wry smile. "Now? I have no idea. I am still figuring out all of this." You waved a vague hand at yourself, the table, the general area. 

"Understandable." Jack caught your hand and held it gently, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. "I for one hope I get the chance to go see new places with you." He quirked a little smile at you. "Would be nice to travel for fun, 'stead of just for work." 

"Maybe we can make that happen." You smiled, feeling a little shy and a lot flattered. 

Jack took the bill before you could, distracting you with a kiss to your knuckles so you couldn't complain. 

Part of you wanted to stay there for the whole afternoon, just chatting and getting to know him. He really was quite charming, and fun, and he had a wide variety of stories. Mostly from his work. Every so often, he'd get an odd look on his face, like he was remembering something less pleasant. But you didn't push, didn't ask. 

You knew all too well how much easier it was to avoid painful subjects, to desperately wish nobody asked about them. 

But the two of you stood after the bill was paid, your hand still twined with Jack's. He used his free hand to look up the nearest movie theater and see what was playing. 

You vetoed the romcom as too on the nose for a first date. Jack nixed the mindless action flick. Which left you with the sci fi that probably spent more of its budget on special effects than writing. 

"Tell you what," you said as the two of you walked to the theater. "Let's get seats in the very back and as long as it doesn't bother you, we can make fun of the movie. If it's bad." 

"Sounds perfect to me, sugar." Jack grinned and squeezed your hand. 

The theater was half empty when you got in, and you and Jack settled in the very back row. Jack lifted the arm rest between you two, draping one arm over your shoulders. 

"This okay?" He asked in a murmur. 

"More than." You smiled, watching the flickering lights illuminate his features. 

He hummed and settled in there, his fingers rubbing against your shoulder, like he couldn't hold completely still. Fortunately you found it endearing rather than annoying. 

To say the movie was mediocre was an overstatement. The best part about the movie was making fun of it. You and Jack sat close together, heads bent together, whispering comments to each other. Once, you had to press your hand to your mouth hard to keep from laughing loud enough for the whole theater to hear. 

Jack looked rather smug after that, and you didn't call him on it. 

"Well, that was…" Jack couldn't find the right word, arm still over your shoulders as you two walked out of the theater into the lobby. 

"It sure was," you agreed, stifling another giggle fit. 

You both paused near the exit, looking through the glass outside. It was raining, the sky overcast where it had been sunny, the ground already soaked. 

You bit your lip, looking at him. "Guess we're walking back in the rain." 

Jack puffed out his cheeks. "Sorry, sugar." 

"It's fine, not like you can control the weather." You paused and peered at him. "And even if you can, I like rain. It sounds nice. Even when you get caught in it." 

Jack chuckled softly and released your shoulders, his hand sliding down to take yours. "Ready?"

"Ready." 

The two of you emerged and headed down the street towards temporary home. It didn't take long to get soaked, and you had to laugh at the disgruntled look on Jack's face. 

Fortunately it wasn't a long walk, and Jack ushered you into his house to warm up. 

"You wanna drink, sugar?" Jack asked, shutting the door behind the two of you and stepping past you towards the kitchen. 

"Something warm, maybe." You peered into his living room. It was a close mirror to your own. He was right, it was an unsettling feeling. Shaking your head, you continued after him into the kitchen. 

Jack already had the coffee machine going, and he offered you a towel. 

"Apart from the rain, that was damn near perfect," he murmured, stepping in closer. 

You smiled, taking the towel. Instead of using it to dry off, as he'd clearly intended, you lifted it to his head to start patting his hair dry. "I liked the rain."

Jack chuckled, his hands capturing yours and bringing them down to rest against his chest. The towel slipped down around his shoulders, but neither of you paid it any mind. 

"I was thinkin' we could do this again sometime?" Jack smiled, ducking his head a little. 

"Of course," you agreed, a little breathless. "I'd like that."

"Good." Jack's smile crinkled his eyes, warming you straight through. "Good." He shifted in closer, one hand still holding yours to his chest, his other landing softly at your waist. He lowered his head a little, slowly moving in closer. Your eyes fluttered closed, face tipping up towards him. 

And the front door banged open, sending in a flurry of cold wind and water droplets. 

Jack swore softly and released you, grumbling all the way to the door. Before he could close it, though, Ezra and Fox popped up. 

"Evenin'!" Ezra greeted cheerily. "Saw the open door, figured we'd come give you a hand, and maybe get a start on dinner for tonight. I was thinkin', with all this rain, a big pot of stew sounds mighty good tonight." Oh, you're already here, dove! How fortuitous."

Jack sighed heavily as the two men let themselves in, and he shut and locked the door. There was regret in his eyes as he rejoined you in the kitchen, clearly paying not a bit of attention to Ezra's ramblings as the other man went through the fridge for ingredients. 

You smiled at him, reaching over to squeeze his fingers briefly. "I'm gonna go grab a towel," you told him, though you were certainly aware of two more sets of eyes that turned to you. "I'll be right back." 

You did take maybe just a couple minutes extra, hidden away in the bathroom, to touch your lips and imagine if the door hadn't opened just then.

--

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[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?���, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

-

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

-

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

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[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Sweet Tooth [Spencer x gn! Reader]

A/N: this is for my “Donuts” square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo​ AKA The four times Spencer gave you donuts and one time he didn’t. 

CW: absolutely none, complete and utter fluff.

WC: 1.5K

Find my Masterlist here.

You would always remember the first time you saw him. The morning rush had you exhausted, sweaty and somewhat flustered. You swore every DC man and his mother got their coffee for their morning commute at your shop. 

Just as it was dying down he stepped up to the counter, large hazel eyes and a slightly awkward smile. 

“Black coffee please.” His voice was like honey to your ears. It took a few seconds for you to register his words. 

“Uh...yeah sure. Coming right up.” You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and turned towards the coffee maker. “Anything else?”

The man mused this for a moment. He had unruly curly hair and a jawline that could cut glass. 

“Do you have a donut recommendation?” 

You finished his coffee and slid it across the counter as you contemplated this.

“Well my favourite is strawberries and cream. But you have to have one hell of a sweet tooth for that.”

He smiled with a small nod. 

“I’ll take one of those.” 

You got a paper bag and cautiously placed the delicacy inside. 

You rang up his order and he paid. You slid his donut across the counter but he smiled playfully.

“It’s not for me.” He slid it back, his eyes sparkling at you. “Enjoy.” 

And with that he was gone. 

You stared dumbly at the spot he had just been standing. The moment had been so fleeting it was almost as though it had never happened.

But there was a strawberry and cream donut on the counter in front of you.

***

Three weeks passed and there was no sign of your mystery donut customer. Every time the little bell over the door chimed over those three weeks your heart skipped a beat and your eyes would dart to the door. But it was never him.

Over time you started to think you must have imagined him. You’d been exhausted that morning and maybe your mind had created the handsome stranger as a distraction.

Or if he had been real, he’d probably been a tourist which would explain why you hadn’t seen him again. And every day your hope dwindled a little more that you ever would see him again. 

You weren’t even sure why it mattered. It had been a fleeting moment, a small act of kindness but for some reason it had stuck with you. Maybe it was his intoxicating eyes or his warm smile. 

After you returned from your break that day and were getting your apron back on, something caught your eye. It was a paper bag behind the counter with your name on.

“What’s this?” You asked your colleague with a frown. 

She turned from where she was cleaning the coffee machine.

“Oh some guy came in and asked what the sweetest donut we did was. I told him it was probably the caramel sensation and he paid for it and told me to keep it for you.” She shrugged.

“What?” You picked up the bag. “Who? When?”

“Some guy.” She shrugged again. “Tall, messy hair. Said his name was Spencer I think.”

“When? How long ago?”

“I don’t know?” She laughed. “Maybe a quarter of an hour ago?” 

Your heart dropped and soared all at once. He’d been here and you’d missed him. But he’d left you a donut. 

You cautiously removed the donut from its bag and before you took a bite you muttered to yourself, “thanks Spencer.”

***

Two days later right smack bang in coffee lovers rush hour, he appeared again. He sidestepped being served by your colleague and as a dad and his boisterous children stepped away, he materialised in front of you.

“Hi.” He smiled. “How was the donut?”

“It was good thanks.” You blushed, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Good.” He blushed slightly too. “So you know my name, am I allowed to know yours?”

You giggled a little and pointed at your name badge pinned to your apron.

“Y/N.” 

Oh god he felt foolish. He’d never thought to look. 

“Oh yeah.” His blush deepened. “Sorry.”

“Can you hurry it up!” A large, angry looking man behind Spencer grumbled. “I don’t got all day for your flirting.”

You both blushed again at his words.

“Uhm...black coffee?”

“Yes please. And a donut of your choice.” 

You set about making his drink, trying not to stare at him but it was hard when he was so gorgeous. 

You picked out two chocolate sprinkle donuts and bagged them separately. 

“Why two?” He frowned a little when you slid one over the counter. 

“It’s your turn to have a donut on me.” You pulled at all your confidence and winked at him. “Coffees on me too.”

“What? I can’t do that.” He shook his head a little frantic. 

“You’ll think of a way to return the favour.” You smiled at him and then you moved on to serve your next customer while Spencer just stared, slightly slack jawed. 

***

Another few weeks passed and Spencer didn’t come back into the coffee shop. You worried you scared him off with your blatant flirtatiousness. Maybe you’d come on too strong. 

Just when you’d resided yourself to the fact you had indeed frightened him away and that he was probably getting his fix at Starbucks rather than your small boutique cafe, a delivery man of all people proved you wrong.

He nudged the door open with his hip, a large flat box in his hands.

“I’m looking for Y/N.” He grunted slightly as he came to the counter.

“That’s me.” You pointed at your name badge. How did people always miss that?

“These are for you.” He set the box down on the counter. 

You stared down at the delights through the transparent lid. At least a dozen donuts of all varieties laid inside. 

You looked back up but the delivery man had already gone. 

You carried your treats through to the back office and opened the lid where you found a small note inside. 

You unfolded it and read the messy handwriting inside.

Y/N, 

Sorry I haven’t been in for a while, my job is hectic. But I wanted to make up for it, so here is a donut for everyday I haven’t been able to see you. Hope to see you soon,

Spencer.

You felt yourself blushing as you read his words over and over. He wasn’t avoiding you. You hadn’t freaked him out. He sent you a donut for every day you’d been apart. 

God this man was something else. You couldn’t wait to thank him to his face. You just hoped you didn’t have to wait too long.

***

It was another week before you spotted that mop of curly hair sat at a table outside the coffee shop in the DC sunshine. 

You waited for the place to quieten down, placed two chocolate custard donuts on plates and took your break. 

You took a few deep breaths as you pushed open the cafe door and stepped out onto the street. He had his back to you reading a newspaper as you approached. 

“I thought it was high time I returned the favour.” You spoke, making Spencer almost jump out of his seat. 

You giggled a little and without being invited you slid into the empty seat opposite him. 

“Oh hi Y/N.” He spoke, regaining his composure and folding his newspaper. 

You slid him one of the donuts.

“Hi Spencer.” You smiled back at him. 

You kept eye contact as you both took a bite of your respective donuts. 

“So, as much as I love trading donuts back and forth,” you started between mouthfuls. “Are you ever going to ask me on a date?” 

You weren’t sure what came over you, you were never so forward with men. But Spencer was different. You would do anything it took to make him yours. The attraction between the two of you was palpable. He’d made the first move with the donuts, now it was your turn.

“That’s why I’m here.” He smiled at you and it sent shivers down your spine. “What time do you get off work?” 

“Five.” 

He looked at his watch, it was just before two.

“Ok, I’ll be right here when you finish.” 

“You’re going to wait all that time for me?” You couldn’t hide your blush.

“As long as I have coffee, I don’t mind waiting.” His smile turned a little shy and you thought it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. 

“I’ll make sure you never have an empty cup.” You finished your donuts, your eyes fixed on one another. “I need to get back.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. 

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” He looked up at you, eyes sparkling. 

You thought about this for a second before you grinned. You started walking away and turned to speak over your shoulder. 

“I donut mind Spencer. I donut mind at all.” 

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

~

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

��What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.” 

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

[serowotonin]

falling ; bakugou k.

pairing ( bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ) wordcount ( 2.4k ) genre ( fluff & basically pining )

↷ a hc-styled narrative describing the four stages bakugou katsuki goes through as he finds himself falling for you . . .

STAGE I ( impression ) ;

the first time bakugou laid eyes on you was during the entrance exam at UA. 

back then, you were just another face in the crowd of faces he was going to have to beat to earn his spot in UA

the first time bakugou spoke to you wasn’t memorable to him either

like with everyone else, he was loud and rude and made it very clear he wasn’t interested in playing friends

after that you became a part of the class, just another extra, someone who’d just get in the way

that was all he thought you were… 

until you kicked todoroki’s ass one day during training

the teachers had paired everyone in the class and told you to practice your 1-on-1 combat skills using your quirk 

bakugou, who was paired with kirishima went first

you and todoroki were to be the last pair

despite a good effort put up by kirishima, bakugou still ended up winning that round

when it was finally yours and todoroki’s turn, bakugou paid extra attention

in his mind, he knew todoroki was powerful and someone to watch out for

but what happened was quite unexpected

you maneuvered easily through todoroki’s attacks with a combination of physical prowess and creative usage of your quirk

let’s just say his ice didn’t work on you and he was caught off guard, allowing you to snatch a win 

needless to say, most of your classmates were a bit surprised at first

bakugou included

they knew you were strong but they didn’t know you were that skilled

whatever the rest of the class thought didn’t matter to bakugou though

all he knew was that now he had to keep an eye on you

STAGE II ( perspective ) ;

after that event, bakugou did indeed keep his eye on you

it started off with him observing your moves whenever the class had to do any training exercises 

he saw you fight with todoroki a couple more times after that

those didn’t end in easy victory for you as it did before because todoroki was now more wary of you

however, the way you evaded and countered his attacks was something to be praised

in bakugou’s subconscious opinion at least

your moves were carefully thought out and bakugou could see that

he could see the effort and practice you had put into perfecting them

not only that, he could also see the natural talent that you had to be able to become this strong

and it wasn’t only your fighting capabilities

you were also smart

maybe he hadn’t noticed it before but he did now

you seemed to always know the answer when a teacher called on you and your grades were great

slowly, but surely, you gained respect in his eyes 

if he knew one thing about you, it was that you were maybe the tiniest bit better than the other extras 

for a while it stayed like this, him acknowledging you but never making it obvious and you just doing your thing

that was of course until one day in the morning before class started

mina, kirishima, and sero were talking about things as they usually were and somehow the conversation led to you

they were talking about how strong and smart you were and going on about stuff

bakugou must’ve turned his head in their direction or something but mina noticed him listening so asked him cheekily what he thought of you

“y/n? of course they’re strong. anyone could see that.”

he said that pretty loudly and didn’t seem to notice you walking into the classroom

and of course you heard

“did my ears deceive or did the bakugou katsuki just praise me?” you teased

he was pretty embarrassed, blushing and sweating a bit but trying to hide it

soon after though, class started and the ordeal was forgotten

but something about that interaction led to you and bakugou becoming closer

closer in that instead of passing the other off as another strong classmate as you usually would, you’d actually greet each other and talk 

you’d say hello to him in the mornings and goodbye after school and he’d just grunt or nod your way

but this was what it meant to be close to bakugou anyway

during the weeks that passed, bakugou found himself noticing you even more

before he only paid attention to your skills and thought about you as an enemy or rival of sorts

now it seems as if he’s just noticing the little things about you and your personality that make you who you were

he wasn’t doing it on purpose god forbid

no no it was just him being unknowingly observant

weeks turned into months and months turned into years

in a blink of an eye, you were all well in your second year

with everything that happened, you and bakugou became close

close enough for you to tease him at random times and close enough for him to ask you to fight him as training

by then it was safe to say bakugou knew you

he knew the little quirks you had 

he knew your different smiles, your different laughs

he knew your favorite foods and your not so favorite ones

he knew the many different little things that made you you

STAGE III ( contradiction ) ;

before the start of the third year, the class decided to have a little get-together party of sorts

to celebrate the start of their last year in high school and to catch up as everyone’s been busy with internships and whatnot

you spent the break away from tokyo so it’s been a while since you saw the rest of the class

naturally you were excited to be able to meet them all casually again before the intense studying and training that awaited you all 

bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t too excited

frankly, he could do without seeing the class before school

but when he heard you were going to be there, he also agreed to go

so there you two were with the rest of the class at a cinema buying drinks and popcorn before your movie started

the neon lights and the prospect of popcorn lit up your face and bakugou couldn’t help but stare

there was just something, something he couldn’t quite figure out

it’s not that you were beautiful, it’s not that you looked cute in that outfit, it’s not that your smile was making his heart flutter

no it wasnt any of that true though they may be

you just.. you looked nice

thats why he was staring

yeah he hasn’t seen you in a while and you come back looking *nice* 

of course he would stare

anyone would

apparently you had noticed him staring though, so you sent a wink and a grin his way before turning back to the popcorn and drinks

in other words, you killed him

with ridiculously high levels of cute and nice

kirishima and sero were just watching the whole thing happen and hell was it obvious to them

their boi was falling hard

now they knew he’d never admit it and they knew you weren’t likely to do anything about his “crush” even if it was obvious to you too

so…

while bakugou was busy helping you carry your popcorn, they devised a rather devious plan

operation: jelly burst

objective? none other than to make explody boiy jealous

for what reason? no reason really it’s just fun to mess with him and this is probably the first time he’s had this big a crush

once everyone finished buying popcorn and was walking into the cinema, operation: jelly burst was put into action

“hey y/n ! come sit next to me” — sero

so you did, nothing strange bout that, sero was a good of yours anyway, nothing strange at all

bakugou moved to come sit next to you too but kiri hurried past him and sat down on your other side before he could

“oh hey bakubro didn’t see ya there sorry”

the seat kirishima stole was the last seat on the aisle

and bakugou was forced to go sit somewhere else

alone

poor guy</3

the seat he found was a few rows above yours though and all went according to the jelly burst plan

by the end of the movie, bakugou was in the foulest mood and no one, except for the 2 lads sitting on either side of y/n, knew why

operation: jelly burst didnt end there though

see they got him jelly but they haven’t gotten him to burst

the next week at school, kirishima and sero both acted really nice to you

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but they did talk to you just a tad bit more than usual

either way bakugou noticed big time and he did not like it

he did not like it one bit

the jelly was there alright

it was just boiling to unprecedented levels

pretty soon, the boys dumped the idea of operation: jelly burst 

mainly cos it was taking too long 

but also because bakugou had become at least 10x more hostile

except to you of course

for some reason, a reason absolutely no one could figure out(sarcasm intended), he was just

quiet around you

didnt yell but didnt really talk to you either

whenever anyone else, kiri and sero especially, tried to talk to him though, he’d shout louder and be a lot ruder to them 

he’s just agitated

and he knew why he was that way

he’s just in denial about it

he’s also in denial about the reason why

why couldn’t he just accept his feelings and act on it already?

kirishima asked him that one day in the dorms

he saw bakugou staring very intensely straight at you without blinking for a full minute

“look man, don’t even try to tell me you don’t like y/n. it’s obvious and i’m not an idiot. you aren’t either.”

“i know shitty hair. it’s just… i’m me. and she’s y/n. nothing’s ever gonna happen.”

“you don’t know that”

“but i do. cmon, she’s just so fucking perfect even with all her flaws. and i’m just the loud guy with exploding hands and no emotions.”

kiri was surprised honestly

this wouldn’t be the first time bakugou was insecure around him but the way bakugou talked about you and how he implied he wasn’t worthy

damn that hit kirishima 

“bakubro, i’m gonna help you”

STAGE IV ( intimacy ) ;

ever since he told kirishima abt what’s been bothering him about you and ever since kirishima declared he’d help, bakugou became more…

quiet

he was still loud, but he just became a soft kind of loud now(?)

it was like he got calmer and he was assured that things would be okay

of course things were not okay

why? because ever since bakugou fully accepted his feelings for you, he doesnt know how to act around you

the other day you asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner cause you were cooking tonight

his answer:

“you”

“umm..”

“-you can make anything you want. i’ll eat whatever.”

that and a lot of other little awkward incidents started occurring

also maybe it was just the weather but he always seemed red whenever you saw him

it wasn’t the weather though

it was him being shy and nervous and flustered

which made bakusquad extremely weirded out cause seeing him like that is like seeing aizawa cheerfully smiling and wearing bright color clothes

it was weird af and was just not right

anyway, mina’s advice to him was to try to get closer to you

“but we’re already close”

“no i mean closer on a personal level. ask her how her day was or ask her random stuff about her likes and dislikes or her hobbies or literally anything”

“oh… ok then”

and so he tried that

he tried getting closer to you by greeting you every morning and sometimes asking you if you slept well

you found it odd

it certainly was odd, but you didn’t mind

if you ask him why he asks about your sleep he just goes red and says he needs to make sure his opponent for his afternoon sparring session is well-rested and healthy

speaking of the sparring sessions…

he asks you to spar more often than usual and actually makes small talk during your breaks

he was also a lot nicer to you, offering to help carry stuff for you and assisting you in the little things

like getting a mug from the kitchen’s high shelves or picking up the pencil you accidentally dropped

what he did worked though and within a few weeks, the two of you got a lot closer

the next step, as mina put it, was “making sure she knew you weren’t interested in her as a friend”

now that was hard for bakugou to do

“it’s not that hard. you could just tell her.”

bakugou: ..??

“basically confess”

bakugou: wha- *shortcircuits*

CONFESSING

he never thought about that

he actually has

he knew in his mind he’d have to do it eventually if he wanted to have you

but he didn’t think it would be *this soon*

“dont think that much and just tell her you like her”

“you’re making it sound easy”

“because it is!”

he groaned internally

he’s faced tons of villains and been in quite the number of fearful situations but the fear he felt now was completely different 

“look if you’re afraid of rejection just confess like this”

*sero clears throat*

“*y/n i like you and i would like to be something more than friends. i’m not going to pressure you into anything so if yoh don’t want to we can just pretend this never happened>:)”

“...”

bakugou ended up confessing the next day though

just not like that

it was a spur of a moment thing and he wasn’t really aware he said it until you responded

the two of you were sparring as usual and you had just gotten close enough to knock him down and pin him to the ground

in that moment you were just so beautiful and amazing and everything and he just couldn’t keep it in apparently 

“i like you”

“w-what?”

“what?”

“did you just say you liked me?”

“like not liked dumbass”

“:o present tense o:”

well long story short, you like him too and you tell him that and you two just sit there grinning like idiots 

from then on things didn’t change much

you and bakugou still talked, although maybe more than usual

and still sparred with each other, although maybe less seriously and more playfully

some were surprised when it became known you were together

some weren’t 

whatever other people thought though, they couldn’t deny one thing:

bakugou looked at you as if you were the world

STAGE ∞︎ ( fallen ) .

note ; i started writing this soo long ago but then abandoned it cuz thats just me:”] bUT i decided that since its his birthday i might as well finish it up and finally post it u.u,,, also TYSM @animebsposts for helping me with this ily and ur amazing<3

taglist ; ( send ask to be added ! ) @lilikags​

[simsadventures]

Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

< Previous Chapter 

“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve. 

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing. 

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now. 

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare. 

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness. 

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain. 

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option. 

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started. 

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it. 

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back. 

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain. 

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you. 

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty. 

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved. 

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened. 

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number. 

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her. 

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line. 

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror. 

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.” 

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side. 

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could. 

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow. 

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture. 

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether. 

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details. 

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four. 

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth. 

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now. 

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself. 

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades. 

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you. 

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it. 

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago. 

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted. 

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark. 

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was. 

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process. 

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess. 

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision. 

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?” 

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil. 

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. 

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position. 

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance. 

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers. 

/ Next Chapter > 

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[im-someone-i-guess]

in loving memory of my lovely grandmother who passed away on 21st March

Life was a fickle thing, the Monday started with a happy grin, eager for the first day of school. Light hearted complaints were said about the teacher's laggy Internet, about how early I had to wake for school. I did not expect the dire news when my mother knocked on the door. I laughed, thinking that it was definitely a joke, a poor one but a joke.

She had slipped in the toilet. I had been there the last time, she had hit her head on the sink and we had to rush her to the ER. It had been a rocky path but we had made it through. Years later we told the tale with relieved smiles on our faces, glad the dark times had passed.

We rushed to her house, I was convinced that it was indeed a joke. When I first saw her I laughed dryly, she was a good actress. But she did not move, did not sit up and laugh. De's sobs filled the silence of the quiet room, Long stood up to pull me into a hug, letting me take it all in. There was no laughter, Atuk stared at his wife, his eyes sorrowful.

The phone rang, another friend of Nenek's. She was famous, I remembered searching her on Google, remembered her telling me that she had friends all over. Long picked up the phone, answering the streaming questions with a steady voice.

I took her hand and clasped it, it felt cold, why did it feel cold?

People started filing in, offering condolences. The gate was left open, welcoming anyone who wanted to give their last goodbyes. My blasted heart made me vulnerable to the virus, I had to stay in the kitchen, away from the crowd, away from my grandmother.

I didn’t want to cry, if nenek was here she'd tell me a wise answer, she'd quote the Al-Quran she loved so much. Back when her dialysis was done at home, she'd read it. There was a black edition, the words large enough for her to read without her glasses.

The house once filled with laughter was tainted with sobs. The air was too thick, I made my way outside, choosing to slowly rock on the swing. The jenazah would be brought to the masjid before zohor, the burial would be done by asar.

I followed my mother to pick up my siblings at school, they had not heard the news yet. Qina had been skipping, a merry smile on her face. She kept going on and on about how she was going to tell Nenek about her first day at school; the name tag, the locker, the friends. She did not understand when my mother told her what happened, she could not grasp the concept just yet.

Adik had been stunned, his eyes tracing my grandmother in disbelief, as did mine. More people were here now, distant relatives I only saw on Hari Raya. They'd usually come and dine, feasting on Nenek's rendang. Before her health spiralled, she had cooked every year, the last day of Ramadan a feast so fine that you could barely eat anything the next day.

She did not pass down the recipes, Babah’s serving of kuah kacang twice a year was reduced to none. I would miss her Nasi Ayam, the daging dendeng.

The van soon arrived, five men with a stretcher. They carried nenek into the van, I didn’t stay long enough to watch, choosing to head to the masjid with Long and De, they would bathe the jenazah. I'd love to go there but they only allowed four, I was only the granddaughter. She deserves to be bathed by her daughters, by her sister, by her neice.

I hovered in the surau, lost in my own thoughts. The day after that was a steady blur, a cloud of unclear thoughts stained with grief. No one expected it, but I was glad it was a swift death. She looked calm when I held her hand that morning, a serene look on her face. She had always been in pain, I hope she is at peace.

Babah was the imam for the solat jenazah. His voice sounded steady, if I didn’t know better, I'd think he was fine. But the last few minutes wavered with a sniffle, betraying his composure.

We left for the kubur afterwards, the sun was harsh today, too warm for comfort. But no one left to stand under a shade, they stood under the sun, watching as Nenek was lowered into her resting place.

When I was younger I had hoped to buy the lot of land next to the graveyard. The ivy and vines that clung to the stone bricks had looked intriguing, an overgrown look that reminded me of an ancient castle's ruins. But that was before I knew what the graveyard would mean to me. Never had I imagine my grandmother to lay there. In my mind she would live a long time, she promised she'd be there for my wedding too.

Unfulfilled requests flashed in my mind, we were supposed to go to South Korea, she had wanted to go to Turkey too. She wanted to bring along the whole family, make it a family trip like Tokyo. We were supposed to wait for the pandemic to settle down, it never did and now it was much too late.

I had promised to let her read my writing too. She had supported my wild ideas no matter how insane they were. The plot had been sparked by a tale she told me, one of a keris in her family. I didn’t get a chance to let her read a word, she would never see the published words on the pages.

I watered her grave, the cerek was heavy but I didn't complain. Each sibling said their own goodbye but I knew it would take a while before they finally accepted it. Atuk didn’t let the cleaner come, he didn’t want her to rearrange Nenek's things. He didn’t change the bedsheets, clinging to the smell that would soon fade.

Now on the grave I scattered the red roses, like the ones Nenek had given me on my twelfth birthday. I kept the vase, the flowers long dried up but still there, atop a study table in a room within a house filled with memories I decided were best buried.