#Hes on the top floor and its a tall but narrow apartment and its gets hot in the summer

[oodlesodoodles]

[persefolli]

𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @xylianasblog, @scarasbaefy, @sukunasbigtiddiewifey, @childofgod-05, and happy belated b-day to @the-mourning-moon I hope you enjoy this fic

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

It had been years since your boyfriend disappeared into space for ‘science’. For years you wondered what he was up to, if he was being loyal, if he would ever come home. But Jake made sure to send you video messages once a month to reassure you that he loved you and couldn’t wait to get home. 48 video messages later, the RDA was shut down, and every human that was sent up there working for the company was sent right back down. You only heard of the news, but held little to no hope that you would see Jake again.

That was until about a week after hearing the news, you walked into your apartment to see your boyfriend standing on two feet, looking at the pictures on the wall that depicted the two years you spent alone. You dropped your grocery bags on the floor, shattering the eggs and smashing the bread you’d bought a few minutes earlier. .

“Jake?”

Your boyfriend turned around, a toothy smile on his face, one that was full of warmth. Like he never left.

“Expected me to roll up on you didn’t you?”

You ran forward and embraced him in your arms, sobbing once it clicked in your brain that he was home, and he could walk. “I missed you so much.” He said quietly under his breath, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

The two of you sat tangled on the couch, ignoring the ruined groceries, to give vague details of the past two years. The two of you were so excited to see each other you didn’t even bother to take the time and explain life in an understandable manner.

“Other than the legs…I brought something else home.”

You raised a singular eyebrow and followed behind Jake as he guided you to a room you’d kept empty in your apartment. You gasped seeing a large capsule with an 8 foot tall alien laying inside. You gasped to scream, but Jake shushed you.

“That's me!”

“That's you?”

“It looks just like me doesn't it?”

You shook your head nervously. Jake sighed and walked over to the limp alien, poking and prodding at it. “It won’t hurt you. See? I can control what it does.”

“Like an alexa? Tell it to stand up and it’ll magically wake up.”

“No.” Jake chuckled. He walked over to another smaller capsule, and laid in it, getting comfortable before seemingly going limp himself.

“Jake?” Your voice quivered after a few moments of silence. He’d left you alone with this big blue alien and you had no idea what to do. That was until the alien opened its eyes, and began blinking. You shrieked and tripped backwards, looking as the creature shot up and looked at you with big, yellow, concerned eyes.

“Calm down baby. It’s me. It's Jake!” He reassured you.

You sat on the floor looking up at him frozen in fear, looking between his limp body, and the alien.

“I have a twin brother named Tommy. I used to be in the military, and we met at a bar.” He recited things only you knew the real Jake would know. Jake's eyes narrowed when he realized you weren’t budging and sighed. “You have a birthmark right under your left buttcheek.” You tried to fight back a smirk but eventually lost to the laughter that erupted from your throat. Jake laughed with you and stretched out his large blue hand to help you up. Standing, you reached his belly button, or at least the top of your head did. You craned your neck to look up at him.

“So what did you do with this thing?”

“I infiltrated an alien race that looked just like this,” he explained. “But unfortunately things went left and now I'm practically banished from the clan. And it didn’t help the RDA get booted either.”

You nodded and circled him, touching his tail and thigh. “Did you like it there?”

Jake smiled, “it was…a breath of fresh air, an escape from my wheelchair for sure.”

“Would you have come home?” You asked sadly. He was gone for so long, and even with the video messages it was clear he liked life on Pandora, maybe even better than his life here on earth.

“Oh Y/n…” Jake kneeled. “I would’ve stopped at nothing to come home to you. But I wanted to come home on two legs.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. You gasped at the silky touch of his alien lips. You smiled and nodded at him. Jake went back over to lay his alien body back in the capsule, and he returned to you in his human form.

He knew this was a lot for you to process, so he wasted no time in getting you out of the room and comforting you in bed.

After a few weeks, you got used to Jake being back home, often coming home to see him cooking or watching T.V. He’d gotten himself a job as a military recruiter, which he made a perfect fit for. He worked daily, sunup to sun down, while you worked a typical 9-5.

On your off days, or when Jake left you alone at home, you found yourself in that room staring at the alien in the capsule. It was captivating, and for some reason you couldn’t leave it alone.

The first few days you were afraid of touching it. You didn’t want Jake to know that you had taken a liking to the creature. But as time went on, you got more comfortable. Tracing its Jake-like features, tugging at his tail, even running your hands over its clothed abs.

But what you were more interested in was the mystery that laid underneath the cargo pants. You didn’t want to just pull down the pants and look, and you certainly didn’t want to touch it. But everything about this humanoid was so big. And if everything else was big…

The sound of the front door closing caused you to jump and run out the room, but your swift movements caught the attention of Jake, and he smiled, catching you right in the act.

“Curious are we?”

“I was making sure it wasn’t-”

“I showed you how it worked.” He took off his jacket and approached slowly, backing you into the wall behind you. “You knew it wouldn’t wake up.”

“This is new technology Jake. Anything is possible.”

Jake searched your eyes before scoffing and walking into the kitchen. “I’m making rigatoni…if you're done playing with my alien.”

“I wasn’t- Ugh!” You rolled your eyes and sat on the couch, turning on the Tv.

Jake made dinner rather fast, and the two of you sat across from each other at the table eating in silence. It was a comfortable silence, but it was tense, only because you were paranoid that Jake knew more than he was letting on.

You kept eyeing him, and he kept eyeing you.

Mid-bite, Jake sat down his fork and dabbed his lips. “Go lay down. I’ll be with you in a bit.”

“Jake-”

“Go. to. Bed.” He said more sternly.

You sighed in defeat and left your half-eaten dinner on the table to go to your bedroom where you sat, waiting nervously. Maybe it was government property and Jake didn’t want you fooling around. Or maybe he wasn’t supposed to have it at all. Either way, the anxiety flowing through your veins had you stiff and staring at the door.

The kitchen light went off and you heard the creaking of his footsteps walking closer until they stopped. You waited a few moments and took a deep breath, fiddling with your fingers as you waited on your lover.

Suddenly, a large blue figure ducked into the room and you gasped. Jake moved to take the shoes off his alien, then his jacket, then his shirt. He sat on the bed in only his cargo pants.

He had to lean on one shoulder for support, but other than that he was staring right at you.

“Jake what is this?” You asked, avoiding eye contact with him.

“So you can stop sneaking in the room everyday to investigate. I'm giving you an opening to do your exploring.”

“Jake i'm not-”

“When I transferred to this body I felt your touch everywhere at once…except one spot. I know you girl, and I know you're aching to see what's down there.”

You gulped and stared at him unmoving. He had caught you, and the worst part of it all is that he was right. He didn't even miss a beat. “Lay down.” He shifted up and you looked at him with eyes that were bugged out of your head.

“What?”

He huffed and moved your legs so you were laying on your back looking up at him. He reached over to turn off the lamp and leave the two of you in the dark. The only source of light was the skyline of the city glimmering outside, and the bioluminescent freckles that scattered his face and bare torso.

You watched him intently as he repositioned your legs so they were spread and bent. You let out a shaky breath as you felt his large thumb rub up and down your clothed cunt.

This wasn't how you expected you two to get intimate once he returned, but Jake was always full of surprises. He looped his index finger around the thin fabric of your panties and pulled them to the side, holding them in place as he leaned down and placed a peck on your damp lips.

You let out a strangled moan before biting your lip to muffle the sounds that spilled from your mouth. Jake delved his tongue partially into your wet hole, letting out airy moans as he did so.

“Fuck you taste so good.” He heaved. “Missed this pussy…” He mumbled as he pressed himself into your groin and sucked harshly on your clit. You grabbed the top of his head and squirmed under his grip. The feeling of a large, warm, foreign mouth that coated your entire pussy had you shutting your eyes tightly and shaking.

“Give me one. C'mon you got it.” He said, raising his head to look at you. You didn't meet his gaze, cursing and shaking dramatically as he ran his hand up your thigh to grab your ankle.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck!” You wormed your body around and Jake moved his head with your groin as he ate you out through your orgasm. Once panting, he sat up and stood at the edge of the bed.

He unbuckled his cargo pants and you watched with lidded eyes as he dropped them to the ground. Your eyes grew wide seeing his large erect member. You instinctively closed your legs once he planted himself above you again.

“I’ll be gentle.” He reassured you, pressing tender kisses to the nape of your neck.You let out a shaky breath which turned into a moan feeling his tip run along your slick. You bit your bottom lip, knowing that trying to fit him in would be a struggle.

“Tell me when to stop.” He mumbled, beginning to push himself in.

The stretch of him burned, causing you to let out a short whimper and place your hand on his chest. “Jake- S- It's too much!” You exclaimed.

Jake stopped and shushed you, leaning down to lock lips with you, and you returned the affection. Maybe it was because you had gotten used to your fingers and toys after all these years, but you felt more sensitive to his touch.

“It’s just the tip.” He said quietly, placing his large hand on your cheek. You felt slightly embarrassed having such a large reaction to just the tip, but you realized he was awkwardly laying there, a good distance away, meaning you had a lot more to go.

“Here.” He said placing his hands under your knees and pushing them pack, spreading you wide in front of him.

“Jake!” You exclaimed, feeling exposed.

“You always opened up for me when I folded you like this.” He spit down at your cunt and ran his tip along your folds to spread the saliva around. You moaned and looked up at him. Jake made eye contact with you and pushed into you again, sliding in a bit easier than before. The stretch was still intense, and you dug your nails into his biceps.

“Wait. Wait.” You panted.

“Halfway.” Jake sloppily kissed your lips and pushed simultaneously to kill two birds with one stone. Luckily you were in your own home, or else the entirety of the city would hear your pathetic whines and pleas. Jake grunted once he bottomed out, rolling his hips to stretch you out more.

You threw your head back and let out weak sobs, ones of exhaustion. Jake was extremely patient, holding himself in place so you could get used to his size. He knew that after this, sex would never be the same, but it gave him a sense of pride knowing he was the only man to have you frothing at the mouth like this.

“Jake.” You whined, letting him know you were ready for more. Jake chuckled lowly, noting how that’s the only word you’ve been able to mutter for the past few minutes. He gripped the backs of your knees and began pumping in and out of you slowly. You grunted and let out howls of pleasure, clenching around him.

He was so deep inside it drove you crazy. You don’t even remember his human self fucking you this good and deep. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, locking in and focusing solely on your pleasure. He swallowed back his own desire to come and thrusted more intensely, making sure to connect his pelvis with yours each time.

Jake knew you were coming once you grew silent. Gritting your teeth together and taking every one of his deep strokes. He slowed himself down, torturously stroking your walls which made you break your silent spell and let out a long, low groan.

“Jake baby I can't-!” You threw your head to the side and allowed your muscles to contract, and your pussy to clench. Jake let out moans of his own, quickly pulling himself out and coming all over your cunt and sheets below.

The two of you vocally rode out your orgasms, sounding a harmony to anyone who may hear a peep outside of the apartment.

Jake rolled off of you and panted, using his limp arm to pull you close. You couldn't muster the strength to close your legs completely, so you just threw one over his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest.

[bewitched-bullet]

Here you go @helloliriels ! This is only the part I finished tweaking

Actually, I always regret everything I do but I do it anyway 😅

(Working title: To Pull a Spider’s Silk)

Chapter 1

The labyrinthine streets of London were currently being slowly devoured by tendrils of thickened mist, offering an ethereal backdrop to the slow moving traffic and passive pedestrians. The eerie false twilight, gave a distinct pull -longing- for a fit of exploring.

‘Wanderlust’ He mused absently, letting the curtain fall back over the window.

Within a comfortably cluttered apartment of haphazard style and sense, a tall and lean figure moved across the room with unnatural grace, grabbed a grubby poker, and jabbed at the inoffensive logs in the fireplace. Small sparks from the fire spat out into the living room in protest. He carelessly flung the metal poker to the side with a clang and spun back around. His sharp, piercing gaze darted across the intricacies of case files spread like cryptic mosaics on his desk. Loose leaflets and some torn pages were taped, pinned, and a couple times -nailed- to the closest wall. Not his fault he ran out of tape. The air around him seemed to vibrate with intensity as he paced in front of his handiwork. A faint smile played unbidden upon his lips as he visually scoured the data.

The fire in the fireplace popped and snapped as it’s fuel shifted, casting wild shadows across the room. He remained unmoved and suddenly stilled, narrowing his ice-blue eyes. Quick as snake, he snatched a paper off the wall and with a final unimpressed once over, tossed it into the flames.

“Aaaargh, I need more information!”

He whipped out his phone from his back pocket, thumbs flying over the digital keyboard.

<< Get me more. SH

His foot tapped as he stared at the screen, waiting. Two minutes later, a ding.

>> Get stuffed.

‘Ugh!’

Annoying, but not unexpected. He tossed his phone to a chair, steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. Can’t go to the crime scenes without being invited (ridiculous), not allowed to step into the station without a case (see point 1) or near dead (unlikely, though appreciated), and not allowed to directly call unless near dead. He snatched the remote from the mantle and switched the small telly on.

The lastest press release of the murders suicides was being hosted by his associate (are they associates? He does associate with him in the verb kind of sense), Lastrade. Sherlock’s mouth twitched upwards as he watched the stress-grayed haired man give his little speech about the case. Sherlock pursed his lips thoughtfully. He may not be allowed to call but nobody couldn't tell him he can’t text whoever he wanted. He quickly retrieved his mobile, tapped a couple times on the glass screen, and confirmed ‘send all’ in a group message. Wouldn’t be able to trace it back to him anyway.

A soft knock at the door disrupted the room's stillness, the arrival of a visitor momentarily drawing his focus. He swiftly crossed the room and opened the door. His landlady, had brought the mail. He greeted her with raised eyebrows.

"Good evening, dear. It's quite chilly out there," she remarked, handing over the letters with a pat on his arm. "Do make sure you get yourself a nice cuppa; it’s going to be cold tonight."

Sherlock’s demeanor softened, and he offered a quick peck on top of her curls. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” he replied as he took the mail, his expression a mix of appreciation and distant contemplation. “Perhaps, you should make sure I do.”

Mrs. Hudson chuckled warmly. "Oh, Sherlock, you do need to take care of yourself,” she said in mock astonishment. “I’m not your housekeeper, you know.”

Sherlock rapidly sorted through the envelopes, tossing them carelessly to the floor. His flurry of movement was soon stilled. He tilted his head, catching something unusual in the pile in his hands. One letter stood out from the rest, its appearance distinct with swirling black ink, sealed with wax, and marked with a unique emblem. He dropped the rest to the floor as he weighed it in his palm, eyes narrowed.

Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock with mild worry. “Ah, perhaps I’ll check on you later anyway. I’ll bring a good meat pie.”

“Mmm…yes, very good,” Sherlock murmured as he turned away from her, sliding his thumb carefully under the seal. He barely registered Mrs. Hudson carefully closing the door behind her as he analyzed the stationary. He gingerly removed the creamy, heavy-weighted paper from the satin-like envelope and unfolded it, scanning it quickly. His frown deepened, and frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior as he re-read the message.

Tiptoeing the lines for the past two years to remain a free agent had been a delicate and frustrating balance. Most of the time, he could believe in the illusion it provided. However, every now and then, reminders of how fragile that "freedom" was came knocking. With a low snarl, he snapped his wrist, and the fancy stationery spun into the fireplace It quickly caught aflame green tinted tongues lapping at it greedily, curling the darkened edges. He remained like stone till every bit of it disintegrated into ash and embers.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

(Next will be John’s part)

I really hope you like this tidbit!

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #29: Conscience

Masterlist

content: immortal whumpee, captivity, stabbing

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

When his eyes fluttered open, Heather was right there. 

She was right on top of him. In her hand, she held a knife.

He was too stunned to even scream. But he really, really wanted to! Because why the fuck was she there? Oh God. He was so close to her. She was so close to him. His pulse went machine-gun fast. He could smell the orange blossom soap on her skin, the conditioner in her hair, the faint coffee scent of her sweater. He thought, for a moment, that he was dreaming, but this was too vivid to be a nightmare.

He swallowed. His throat was raw, arid and scratchy. He wanted to beg but he couldn't even bring himself to move. His limbs felt like they were wrapped in cellophane.

She pressed the knife lightly against his shirt. The point of the blade twisted against fabric.

His breathing slowed, the longer he stared at it. He was not in any danger, he realized, not any worse danger than before. If she was going to kill him, he didn’t mind dying again.

Well, then, this was a walk in the park! This was a slice of pie. Skittles and beer and vanilla ice cream. Life was going great. He was out of the basement. Everything was going to be okay.

He could even see sunshine! The curtains no longer covered the window. From his left, light spilled over the window ledge with reckless grace. The living room was much less dim and dreary. He could even see the blue sky, a merry robin-egg shade stretching over the snow. Jackie could get drunk on that sight.

She narrowed her eyes, as if just noticing he was awake. “You're quiet.”

He shook his head and left it at that. He felt much better, compared to last night. Sleeping in the basement was hard. He would wake up in bursts and starts, easily startled by a noise he’d imagined or a spider darting across the wall. This was his first deep rest in a while.

“I was checking if you were asleep,” she said.

Jackie nodded distantly, already thinking of other things.

Just then, the doorbell chimed. She cleared her throat and stood up, off the sofa, and walked around the corner. The door opened. He didn’t get up. Back then, he would have taken this opportunity for escape with eager arms, but escape was a distant pipe dream now. He was so much older, so much more exhausted. Shameful, to give in so easily, but…

Outside the window, a cardinal flitted across the snow. He closed his eyes and put his head back down. The sofa was so comfortable. Shameful, this docile sort of life, but he was happy.

The front door was not far from the living room. Jackie could hear the faint murmur of conversation. Nobody he knew, nobody he could recognize.

It was brief. Only a couple of words were exchanged, then the door was shut again.

There was the dull crunch of footsteps in the snow, and the lock clicked into place. He heard more footsteps, echoing against the wood floors. Outside, a bird tittered its song, piecing together a hesitant melody. Branches crackled in the cold.  

He heard a heavier thump, closer to him. Jackie started upright. There was a white box at the foot of the sofa. Kind of like the boxes bakeries used for cakes. It was heavy, judging from the sound, but not too big. Only about five inches tall, five inches wide. There was no label on it, no shipping company, not even an address.

Heather hadn’t put the knife down. Did the visitor notice? Did they not care? Her stare was boring holes into him. She stepped closer, until they were no more than a rat’s-tail apart, and he did nothing.

Before he could even register what had happened, he flinched. There was a blur of movement. A sharp motion. The ache in his chest flared up to a burst, and he clutched the wound on instinct. A spurt of blood dripped down the knife and across the curve of her hand. She had stabbed him. He could hear his pulse get weaker, feel its sad convulsions in his throat.

“A—ah. Shit.” He would never get used to the pain of dying, no matter how often it happened. He pressed a shaky hand to the knife’s handle. “Good morning t—to you too.”

Heather made a slight, small choking sound. Her hair hung down like torn rags around her face, brushing the edges of his jaw. She staggered, then… put her head down on his shoulder. Tears wetted his shirt. Their cold, salty sting bled through the fabric to his skin.

“Oh.” He cringed. This was not his idea of a good morning.

“Jesus…” She shuddered against the crook of his neck, against his chest.

“Yeah. It happens. Do you want a hug? Or… what’s in the box?”

"Morphine.”

Not all her drugs were homemade, then. “Do you want some morphine too?”

“Yes.” She sniffed. “Yes to both, please.”

He didn’t know how to administer morphine, or how to reach them with Heather leaning on his shoulder, so he settled for the hug. Around her waist, around the thick maroon fabric of her sweater.

He patted her back, a rhythmic motion below her shoulder blades. “There, there. It’s okay. Why are you sad?”

“I—“ Her voice hitched. “I stabbed you.”

“I’m fine. I’m immortal, remember? I’ll be okay.”

“It’s not that, it’s—I don’t know why I’m being so cruel to you, Jackie. I don’t know! I wish you would—” Another hitch. “But it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just scared.”

“Yeah…” He glanced down at the knife. His slow-dripping blood had an odd viscosity to it, and it was so dark that it nearly shone black. The blade was embedded so deep in him that it was barely visible, rimmed by the slightest glint of light. It was one of those kitchen knives. They usually came in a set. Three silver circles dotted the handle.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even want to keep you here. I was going to kill you. But I don’t—what was I supposed to do? I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I forgive you.”

“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “You’re saying whatever you think will make me happy. You hate me. You should hate me.”

Such a picky girl. Take the forgiveness and leave, or else say nothing, because there was nothing he could say back. If he kept acting cute, she would hurt him regardless, and if he started spitting insults at her, she would probably bash his head into the wall. But it wasn’t his opinion she was searching for—no, he was a prop for her guilty conscience, and he’d have to play along.

“I love you, Heather.” He pressed up against the side of her face. “Don’t go.”

“You…” She let go of the knife. This shifting caused his wound to sting anew, but he made an effort not to wince. “You don’t love me. I hurt you.”

“I don’t care. Just… don’t leave me alone again. Please. It was horrible. I don’t want to go back.”

“I won’t.”

A prop, a perfect prop, never complaining or talking back. A doll, a sweet and shallow toy. Maybe that was what she wanted. Jackie probably couldn’t do that for her, but he could try.

The doorbell rang again.

She sat up straight almost instantly, tearing away from him. He felt a dizzy ache clog up his throat, as her heat left his skin. She scrambled off the sofa, conjured up yet another tissue. After impatiently rubbing at her eyes, she threw it on the coffee table. Off and around the corner she went.

There was a shrill sound—it was the door swinging open. “Good morning, ma’am.”

“Hello, officer.”

Officer. 

Jackie froze like a deer. 

He clutched the knife still stuck between his ribs until his knuckles felt sore. If he screamed now—no, Heather would lock him alone again, and she’d kill the witnesses, whatever it took to silence him. He stared at the crumpled tissue instead. A torn, crushed, fragile thing. So immaterial in the glaring sunlight.

“Hello.” The voice was rough but reedy, husky but not deep. “I wanted to ask a few questions—“

“Questions?” Heather’s voice was calm, even confident. “Ask away, officer. Is something wrong?”

“There’s been a disappearance in this neighbourhood.” Jackie’s heart pounded like snares in a metal crusher. “Have you heard anything about Matthew Markham?”

Oh. Of course. The dead body. The unlucky guy who had annoyed Heather. Of course nobody was looking for Jackie. He swallowed the sinking feeling in his gut and continued to listen.

“No, I haven’t heard anything. My apologies.”

“That’s alright. We've been searching the area, you know how it goes. Would you mind if we talked inside your home?” There was a tiny creak—Jackie imagined him leaning forward, trying to push through the doorway.

“Do you have a warrant, officer?”

There was a curt, painfully obvious pause. “I'll return in two weeks or so. I appreciate your help.”

“Okay, officer. I hope you can find Matthew.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

The door closed. He wasn’t a dirty cop, then. Not some pig. What luck. Jackie wanted to kick the guy. If only he were a brute! The law was fair, but it was not always kind. If only he’d barged in, shoved Heather aside, and taken Jackie home…

Home? What home? The apartment was gone. Repossessed, returned to the landlords, rendered to dust and white-wash wood. This was his home now.

“Jackie!” Heather ran back into the room. All that confident composure had crumbled away. Panic warbled in her voice. “Fuck! What should I do?”

He sat up straighter. “Why are you asking me?”

“Who the fuck else should I ask? Matthew?” She began to pace beside the table, back and forth, tracing her steps over and over. She ran a tensed hand through her hair. “Shit, shit, this is bad.” She paused her pacing to glance at him. “Don’t just stare at me. You have a plan, right?”

“Not really. Sorry."

This was not the answer she wanted, but she finally stopped running laps across the living room. Instead, she stood against the wall opposite him, looking more haggard than ever. Jackie seriously doubted that this mysterious cop with a missing warrant could rescue him. If Heather thought he was in danger of being discovered, she wouldn’t simply give up and let him go. She’d stuff him in a closet, or hide him in her trunk, or lock him up somewhere equally uncomfortable. It was in his best interests to nudge her towards a plan that didn’t involve being shoved into small spaces.

“Heather. Do you trust me?”

She laughed without mirth, her head bent down, her ruffled hair falling over her eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “I get it. It doesn’t matter. More importantly—you have a lot of money, right? You’ve got a rich daddy who up and died or something. That’s why you can afford this house and all those drugs and still never go to work. That’s how you got all those nice chiffon scarves. Am I wrong?”

“You’re… uh, you’re right. I live off a trust fund. How did you know?”

He shrugged. “Lucky guess.” Nobody who earned their own living had time to play with pharmaceutical drugs. ”Listen, if you’ve got the money, we could just leave. Go to Hawaii, maybe.”

“Leave… how? We can’t drive to Hawaii. Can’t take a plane, either. I don’t have your passport, it would look suspicious. Perhaps we could go to…”

“Kentucky?”

“No. I was thinking of somewhere temporary, like…”

“A hotel?”

“A hotel!” She clapped her hands together. “You sly devil. That’s perfect. They won’t suspect a thing.”

Sly devil. That was a new one. Sounded coy. Very suave. Better nickname than subject, anyhow. “When are we leaving, then?”

“I’d say… three days to pack, then we can leave right away.”

And he hoped, crossed his heart and hoped, that this would not backfire. Just one nice thing. Just one streak of luck. Lord knew he needed a break. He just needed this to go right. Just one good day.

“By the way,” she said, gesturing to his chest, “you’ve got a little something…” 

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” He wrenched the knife from his heart. His blood soaked the front of his shirt and smudged on his hands. For a minute, he could not feel his pulse—how odd. He did not have a heartbeat at all.

Heather took the knife from his hands. Although she hesitated, as if she wanted to speak, she left the room quietly.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation

@creppersfunpalooza

[loveoaths]

Din leans over the training room table as he slides the particulate shield over his blaster’s gas cartridge, watching it slip over the plasma rounds until the audible click sounds through his gloves. He doesn’t need to look – he can take a blaster apart half-dead, half-asleep, and half a lungful of air while bound and gagged like a Lothalian puffer pig, which he has done, and will undoubtedly do again sometime in the not-so-near future. 

But arrogance like that, the arrogance to underestimate a weapon, has gotten some of the galaxy’s best bounty hunters killed. Din has no intention of dying today – not before Grogu gets his breakfast, anyway – so Din does the smart thing and keeps his eyes on the most dangerous thing in the room: the warm blaster in his hand, and the tall, dark shadow haunting the doorway named Anakin Skywalker.

As if he can sense Din’s attention, Skywalker’s lips twitch upwards. “So much for those Mandalorian senses. You didn’t notice I’ve been here–”

“For a minute and a half,” Din interrupts. He turns the blaster over in his hands, its calming heft outweighing his nascent desire to fire it at Skywalker’s feet and send the young man running. He’s never been a violent man – his occupation notwithstanding – but something in the clinically curious way Skywalker looks at him makes the muscles in his thighs clench and his index finger settle gently above the blaster’s trigger. Like Din is an insect he wants to delicately rip the wings off of, or a vintage cruiser begging to be unbuilt. Din’s used to being regarded as an object to be broken, a weapon to be wielded, a problem to be dealt with, but this… this is different. Skywalker watches him like he’s waiting for something. For a man as infamously impatient as him, that’s enough to keep Din on edge.

He slides the blaster back into its holster and finally turns to stare down the Jedi. His hand settles at his side, the back of his hand brushing against the holster. “You’re quiet, Jedi, but six weeks in deep space means you’ve acclimated doonium hulls. You’ve got gravity gait.” Din demonstrates, widening his stance and bending his knees, shifting his weight to his heels and flexing his toes within his boots to silently reposition himself atop the gravel flooring. “On stone, your center of gravity lowers. Heel first. Lift the top of your foot as you move and lead with your big toe. Slower. You move too fast.” He straightens again, then waits.

Skywalker blinks at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed as the silent command settles on his shoulders. It isn’t a power-play, but it isn’t not one, either, and Skywalker knows it. A muscle in Skywalker’s jaw jumps. Din’s palm presses softly against the butt of his blaster like a kiss.

And then Skywalker moves.

Fast, impossibly fast, unnaturally fluid with what can only be the Force. One moment he’s in the doorway and the next there’s nothing between them save for Skywalker’s smug smirk and the blaster muzzle pressed against his forehead. Skywalker stares down at him for a moment that outpaces the Hydian Way by a standard parsec, steel-blue eyes tracking across the helmet’s eye-slits, utterly unbothered by the pistol digging into his skin as he leans forward. Under the helmet, Din’s breathing stays cool and flat; inside his chest, his heart jumps.

“I get that a lot,” Skywalker says mildly. Those eyes roam over him, brimming with the white-hot arrogance young men make their names by, still searching for something. Whatever it is he must not find, because after another long beat the man abruptly shifts, at peace with the blaster still pressed against his forehead. He drops into the stance Din demonstrated earlier.

“Like this?” Skywalker says breezily, as if there isn’t a loaded gun in his face.

Din eyes him warily, then nudges Skywalker’s right foot slightly. “Like that.” The stance is perfect on his first try. A troublesome prodigy, indeed. “Good.”

To Din’s surprise, Skywalker’s smirk licks up into a boyish smile. “You’re impressed.”

The expression is so like Grogu’s pleased smile when Din praises him that he huffs, the tension from earlier bleeding out into a quiet annoyance. Kriffing Jedi. “I’m tired, Skywalker.” He holsters his blaster and steps back, turning toward the door. “Send for me when Kenobi returns.”

Even through the helmet, Din can feel the Jedi’s eyes settle on the back of his neck, can sense the way his easy posture belies the adder coiling restlessly beneath his skin, waiting to strike.

“That’s General Skywalker to you, Mandalorian.”

As he steps over the threshold, Din does not look back.

“You aren’t anything to me, Jedi.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and suddenly he can breathe again. Lightheadness and body memory carry him through the temple’s twisting halls.

Kriffing Jedi.

It’s only once he’s reached his room that he feels the ghost of a smile haunting his own lips.

Force Negative!Din time travel au: Din has an unsupervised encounter with Jedi Knight Anakin, and it goes... well? Sort of. He’s not sure.

[tatakaebomb]

Two is better than one

ꕥ Pairing : Draken x Reader x Baji

ꕥ Synopsis : Your roommates happen to know what you’ve been fantasising about , and they make it come true

ꕥ Word count : 1.8k

ꕥ A/N : All characters are over 18 ! obvs

ꕥ TW : voyeurism, threesome (?), degradation, praise, rough sex, oral (m receiving), cervix bruising, slight dumification, teasing, slight mention of jealousy, spanking, sub! reader, unprotected sex, creampie, baji’s big dick lmao, 18+

Since you moved in with Draken and Baji, its been a weird dynamic between the three of you.

Although you swore everything was purely platonic, you and Draken have had your fair share of drunk late-night hook ups when Baji would be missing from the apartment.

You'd always go back to acting as just friends by the morning, so you figured it was just harmless fun.

Draken felt differently though, since he first saw the way your tiny cunt stretches out to take him, he couldn't help but feel jealous when he'd occasionally see you flirting with Baji in the living room, your laughter filling the room as you playfully hit him in the arm. It made his teeth grit, he would never admit that to you though.

As for Baji, he'd be missing alot from home.

And most of the nights he would be home all you could hear from his room next door was loud moans from different women every week and harsh slapping noises echoing through the whole apartment.

Hearing it made your cheeks flush red, flustered that you must of fantasised one too many times of having him between your legs, playing in his hair as he made you moan just as loud.

You imagined he must be doing something right to have all these women scream his name shamelessly like that, but you tried to ignore the idea.

Although every time you'd let the thought of him fucking you dumb slip into your mind, your knees would get weak.

It was no hidden fact that both of your best friends were into you, so you got used to their competitive nature. It wasn't too deep , you thought, although sometimes they would get too much.

-

"Keiii, give it backk" You pout, climbing on top of Baji on the couch in order to try reach the remote.

"Nope" He laughs and pushes you back, making you fall on your ass on the floor.

You cross your arms , giving the long haired man a death stare.

"You're so mean"

"Mm, fine ill give it to you, on one condition" He grins, playing with the remote in his hand.

Your eyes glisten as you look up at him from the floor, tilting your head and pushing the hair out your face while waiting for him to continue.

You watch him push the remote down his pants, giggling as you furrow your eyebrows and part your lips in confusion.

"Come get it, you can only use your mouth though"

You narrow your eyes, smirk forming in the corner of your mouth as he relaxes his posture, back lazily pressed against the cushions.

"Deal" You blurt out, crawling to him and pressing your elbows on his thighs.

He widens his eyes, not expecting you to actually agree. "Wait wha-"

You lower your head to his crotch, teeth pulling down at the zipper.

He licks his lips, lowering his hand to push the hair out of your face to give him a better view of you tugging to undo the button with ur teeth.

You innocently smile when you successfully do it, wrapping your mouth around the remote before pulling it slowly up. You accidentally drop the remote on the floor, a big crash echoing through the living room.

"Haha, fuck yo-" Your celebration gets interrupted by the click of the door opening, making you both dart your head towards the door.

"You two having fun?"

You freeze watching Draken lean on the doorway, hands in his pocket as he stares down at your very questionable position. You kneeling down in front of Baji, him laying back into the couch with his zipper undone. It wasn't a good look.

You fall back on the floor, shaking your head embarrassed as Baji lets out a big laugh.

"No no - its not what it looks like-" You incoherently say as Draken nears you, his tall figure towering over you as he reaches for your hand in order to pull you up. Just as you're about to thank him, he throws you down on Baji's lap, making a quiet gasp escape your lips.

"What the fuck?" You mutter looking up into Draken's eyes, your face reddening at the fact Baji was rock hard under you. He takes a seat on the sofa chair, not breaking eye contant as he slumps back.

"Since you wanna fuck him so bad, go ahead" Draken chuckles bitterly, watching you widening your eyes as you try to shift up from Baji's lap.

"I don't wanna- fuck" Baji pulls you back down on his lap, making you bite your lip as your clothed cunt comes in contact with his bulge.

Baji moves your hair out the way, placing kisses on your neck as you begin to slowly shift in his lap, your eyes never once leaving Draken's as small whimpers escape your lips.

"What are you- Kei~" You accidentally moan Baji's name when you feel him bite at the sensitive part of your neck, your hips automatically pressing down harder into him for friction.

Draken grits his teeth at the sound of your moans, quietly watching you getting off to his best friend.

Baji lifts you off his lap, your back faced to him as he pulls down your pants, giving him a better view of your bare ass.

"Be a good girl n' bend down for me, Y/N" Baji demands, and you follow through with his request, gasping when you feel his hands run over your hips, grabbing roughly at your ass.

"She's so fuckin wet already" He coos, grabbing and snapping the thread of your panties back into place making you let out a loud whimper. He slides your panties to the side, collecting your arousal on two fingers before placing them to his lips, letting his tongue taste you.

"Bet she is" Draken spits out from the chair, and you slowly rise your gaze towards him again, noticing his cock starting to strain against the grey material of his sweatpants.

You look back at Baji, smirk placed on his lips as he frees his cock from his boxers, the massive size of it making you widen your eyes. Now you began to understand what those screams were about.

"I- I can't- Baji" You moan out as he grabs your hips and slowly starts lowering you down on his cock, grinning as he watches your mouth drop after puttin in half.

"'S too big-" You exhale, your hands squeezing the side of his thighs.

"It's only half way in, princess " He chuckles a groan before impatiently pulling you down all the way, a loud gasp leaving your lips.

You watch as Draken sits up, getting in front of you and dropping his sweatpants to the floor, his cock springing up in front of your face. You look up at him through your watery eyes, wincing when you feel Baji slowly rise you up just to drop you down again, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

" Ken, 'm sorry" You moan out, gasping when you feel his hand roughly tangle in your hair.

Draken pushes your head down his thick cock, the gagging along with your moans sending vibrations through him making him groan.

"Let me shut her up for you" Draken chuckles, looking over at Baji with a smirk.

Baji gives him a nod, a loud slap to your ass along with the tip of Draken's dick down your throat makes your eyes roll back, spit running down your chin as your moans continue to muffle.

"Fuck - Fuckin' slut , squeezing down on me like that"

Tears well up in your eyes when Baji lands another blow to your ass, continuing to abuse your cunt as Draken gives you barely any time to breathe as he fucks your mouth.

You look up at Draken, the sight of his head thrown back as curses escape his lips making you squeeze down on Baji's cock harder.

You feel Draken's cock begin to twitch at the back of your throat, his sloppy thrusts giving you the signal he's close.

"Shit" Draken groans out as spurts of his cum shoot down your throat, quickly pulling out of your mouth.

You look at Draken as you swallow, your tongue lolling out as Baji continues to bounce you up and down.

"Good girl"

Draken taps your cheek, giving you a tired smile before he sits back down.

Your attention is brought back to Baji as you feel him roughly grab at your tits from behind, slamming you down harder and harder with each thrusts as his fingers play with your nipples.

"~ it's too much" You roll your eyes back, legs shaking as you feel the knot in your stomach begin to form.

"You wouldn't want me to go easy on such a good whore like you, mm?" He growls in your ear, sending you over the edge making you throw your head back, cumming all over his cock.

"N-No, harderr " You scream out, making his dick twitch inside of you as he begins thrusting up, reaching deeper inside you each time.

"That's more like it doll" He groans into your ear, your hands placed on top of his as he continues to grip on your tits, his strokes becoming sloppier as you approach your orgasm again.

"K-Kei im gonna-"

"Fuck- Cum with me "

You both reach your highs, moans and pants being drawn from your lips as you feel him let go, painting the walls of your cunt white with his cum.

He slowly lifts you up, his cum leaking down as he lays you down on the couch.

You lazily open your eyes, head spinning as your eyes meet Draken's from the other side of the room, head placed in his hand as he scans your body.

"She's good, ain't she ?" Draken looks over at Baji, making him let out a tired chuckle as he sits up and slips his pants back on.

"Best pussy i've had in a while"

Baji gives you one last look, slapping your thigh before heading out for the night, the door closing shut behind him.

You giggle, biting on your bottom lip as you switch your gaze to stare up at Draken, lifting a hand to play with your sensitive nipples.

He lets out a quiet 'fuck', tugging at his clothed cock thats already hardened again.

"Got room for one more ?" He sits up, his body towering over yours as he bends down to place his lips to yours .

You squirm when you feel his hand lower to your clit, a quiet moan drawn out from you when he bites on your bottom lip as he breaks the kiss.

You look up through your blown out pupils,

"I always got room for you, Ken"

[imagine--if]

A/N: Wasn't a request this time, but I've had this idea in my head for a few days and feel like this could be an awesome mini-fic 😁 enjoy reading!! Also I'm gonna see if I can open my blog to post submissions from you all if you want to send some amazing inspiration in 💚

ₓ˚.୭˚○◦˚. Attention, Part I .˚◦○˚୧.˚ₓ Words: 858

• My neighbour's kind of odd, maybe he just likes the attention? •

Living in Gotham comes with its challenges, and working there is just as bad. You know you get paid half of what you're supposed to, and work for far longer than you should have to, working twice as hard for everything. That's why you had to take that smaller flat instead of a proper, private house. That's how you met your neighbour.

Most apartments in the city aren't at all decent places to live, the flat buildings full of dropheads and thugs, a permanently out-of-order lift, spray-painted cement walls and smashed glass sprayed on the odd stair. This building is tall, overlooking the Iceberg Lounge - a place you promised yourself long ago not to go anywhere near - but it's the best you could find, for now.

It was unsettlingly quiet when you got the key to your apartment on the top floor, the cold corridors narrow and dark, the people quiet and glowering. You had a heavy backpack full of your books and gadgets weighing down on your back, and a suitcase dragging and thumping behind you, as you lugged them tiredly up the stairs, night falling quickly as ever outside. God, you hate this place. Why are everything and everyone so hopeless?

When you finally got to your door, the key having to be shoved and twisted several times to unlock the stiff mechanism, you let out a sharp exhale, running your fingers through your hair and back away from your face, dumping your backpack in the doorway. Faint, echoing footsteps could be heard from a couple of floors lower, heading up closer to your level, and you glanced down the staircase apprehensively, pushing your backpack further in and pulling your suitcase past the front door.

Peering in at your new place, your brows furrowed slightly as your eyes wandered the small hallway that branched off into the main room, and two cupboard-sized rooms to the left, a bedroom and a bathroom. The kitchen was connected to the main room, and cheap, grubby appliances stood out against the dirty white walls and dark carpeting. Well. It would have to do, until you can do better.

The footsteps had stopped whilst you observed your new 'home,' and by the time you looked back to close the door behind you, a figure was standing at the apartment door opposite, curious, intense eyes fixed on you when you flinched in shock. It was a man, no older than thirty, with a round face and a soft, dorky look, clear-framed glasses hiding his murky green eyes. But his gaze seemed to bore right into yours, as if he could see through all the layers on the outside and cave into thoughts you keep buried for good reason.

You blinked out of your trance, giving him a worn-out smile, and his eyes widened in surprise, a pink blush dusting his cheeks as he smiled back at you hopefully.

"Hi," you said awkwardly, "I, um, I'm new, so... sorry if I disturbed you or something."

The man stared at you thoughtfully for a moment, shaking his head slowly.

"You didn't disturb me. I've just got back from... from work."

"Yeah, work," you responded with a light scoff. "Fun." You told him your name, lingering at your door as you spoke, wondering if he might just be one of the very few polite people here that just want to get inside but won't say it. Still, he doesn't seem in any hurry, eyes bright and searching, his frame leaning against his door slightly.

"Edward," he breathed. "I'm Edward."

"Oh, okay, well, it was nice meeting you, Edward," you nodded with a half-smile. "I should probably unpack a bit before it gets too late."

"Unpack," he repeated steadily, his stare veering off to the ground in some distant thought, before they snapped back into reality, a dopey grin sent your way. "Right. I- if you ever need anything, I'm just opposite."

"Good to know. Have a nice night, then!"

Edward's eyes didn't leave you as you close the door, locking it back up and resting your hands against the cool, red metal surface. He seemed nice enough. A little eager, maybe. Was he still staring?

Craning your neck up and pressing yourself against the door, you looked out the small peephole, and sure enough, he was still there, his door ajar as he tried to make himself go inside. That bright smile was still on his face, and it took him at least a minute to back into his cluttered-looking apartment, a shrill, weird screeching and squeaking from inside gaining his attention. Edward sighed, closing the door, and you stepped back from your own, bemused.

- hey, how was moving day? or night i guess lol -

You smiled weakly at your phone screen a second after it vibrated, your friend's text popping up on the lock screen. You tapped on the message, thinking for a minute before you responded, Edward's unusually giddy smile in your head.

• My neighbour's kind of odd, maybe he just likes the attention? •

.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ To Be Continued... ₓ˚. ୭˚○◦˚.

.・ Taglist: ・.

@simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dencchan @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @r4iner @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @vaylordd @dangerouslittlefairy @katjourno @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @callsigncrash @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[watchmegetobsessed]

The Hottest Avenger - Bucky Barnes

a/n: im warning you, i will probably not stop for a while with the bucky fics so... brace yourselves lol! also i wrote this before ep 5 came out so its placed in that time

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: TFATWS spoiler, some violence? nothing extreme

word count: 1.8k

summary: Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

masterlist

“Did you fucking eat the last dumpling?” you accuse Sam, holding up the empty takeout box where you thought were one more dumpling, one you’ve saved for yourself, but now it’s gone as Sam is eyeing you with his mouth full.

“Thought it was mine,” he mumbles, his words barely understandable from all the food in his mouth.

Taking a deep breath you’re trying not to jump at his throat right then and there. You’ve been locked up together all damn day in the trashy apartment across the street from the building where’s Zemo supposed to be hiding. Sharon had a tip about a possible place where he might be found, but you’ve been waiting to no avail for now. You’ve been growing stressed and impatient. You lost track of Karli and her people and now you can’t seem to find Zemo either. If it wasn’t for the Dora Milaje, you wouldn’t bother to be so after the asshole, but Bucky said if Ayo finds him first, he is dead and every useful information he holds goes to the grave with him so now you are forced to look for him. One failed mission has been following the other these days, that incompetent dickhead John is on the loose too after murdering that man in front of civilians and you feel like control has slipped out of your grip a long time ago. Now you’re stuck with Sam and Bucky in this crappy place, waiting by the window, watching out for Zemo and on top of everything… Sam ate your last dumpling.

Just when you’re about to snap at him, you feel a strong grip on your shoulder. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Bucky right behind you, but not just because he is the only other person in the room beside you and Sam, but also because you know his touch probably more than anyone. Only that most of the times it’s not your shoulder he is gripping…

It’s been going on for a long time between the two of you. Started with just some innocent flirting and you never thought it would grow into something more significant, but it did. And now you are officially in a relationship with none other than the Winter Soldier, only that no one else knows about it and you plan to keep it that way. You don’t need the teasing and jokes and the Avengers are known to be dicks sometimes, especially Sam.

Glancing up your eyes meet Bucky’s blue irises and he sends you a look that says “just let it go”, and though every fiber in you wants to whoop Sam’s ass, you let it slip.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna get mad about a dumpling,” Sam chuckles as he chews on the food that you should be enjoying right now.

“I can get mad about whatever I want to,” you growl back, growing quite irritated of him at this point.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he huffs under his breath, clearly not as bothered as he should be. Before you could do any harm in him, you leave your spot by the window, needing a breather from… well, from him.

“Hey, it’s still your turn!” he calls after you.

“I need a break,” you growl back.

“Get your ass back here, we agreed to switch every two hours!”

“Sam! I’m walking out because I’m way too tempted to punch you in the face right now!” you snap at him, losing your patience. He rises from his seat with a hard expression, not quite a fan of the way you just talked to him, but you couldn’t care less.

“You think you could actually throw one? Because last time we fought you couldn’t really get a hold of me,” he narrows his eyes at you, coming to stand tall in front of you, trying to intimidate you with how much taller and stronger he might be, but you both know you’re a better fighter.

“It’s easy to talk with your fancy tech stuff. Why don’t we see who wins in a simple battle?” you challenge him with faked boredom.

“Guys, stop. We should be looking out for Zemo, not tearing each other apart,” Bucky tries to end the staring contest, sticking his metal arm between the two of you in case any of you decides to launch at the other one.

“Then tell her to stop bitching!” Sam nods in your way.

“I’m not bitching, I’m just fed up with your bullshit!” you spat back at him, leaning closer, your chest coming in contact with Bucky’s extended arm.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Sam,” Bucky warns him, but Sam snorts dryly.

“Don’t tell me you are taking her side, she is throwing a fit for a fucking dumpling!”

“I’m not taking sides, just trying to settle this stupid disagreement here,” he defends himself and you roll your eyes.

“You can’t tell me she is not overreacting it, Buck!” Sam laughs in disbelief, taking a step back, dropping the act that he wants to fight you. He probably knows he would come out as a ridiculous loser. “This is fucking insane, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Y/N,” he shakes his head.

“Hey!” Bucky snaps at him. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that, okay?!”

“I’m just—wait, what?!” Sam’s eyes widen and you freeze too.

Your dumbass boyfriend didn’t just out the two of you, did he? What else is about to come?! Sam’s shock turns into a cocky grin as his eyes shift between you and Bucky.

“You guys… you guys are fucking?” he asks with a delightful laugh and you close your eyes sighing, already tired of his shit.

“That’s not—We’re not fucking, I mean… It’s not like that,” Bucky stutters, but it’s just making it worse. He looks at you with terror in his eyes, but you are way too drained to deal with it the right way.

“Yes, we are fucking! And we are in a mature adult relationship! Get yourself over it!” you bark at Sam before turning around and walking out.

You faintly hear the two men talk inside, but you don’t make out the words. You don’t go too far, sitting on the steps leading up to the third floor. Soon enough you hear the door of the apartment open with a creak and a moment later Bucky shows up in your sight. He sits beside you, remaining silent for a little before speaking up.

“Sorry for running my mouth,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“It’s… fine,” you breathe out. Bucky fidgets with his fingers and you know he wants to touch you in any kind of way as a reassurance that it really is fine. You don’t want to hold a grudge, it was an accident, you’re just a little bummed it’s not gonna be just the two of you anymore. Reaching out you take his hand, the real one that’s flesh and meat and you lace your fingers together as he peeks at you, still reserved and hesitant.

“Is it really fine or are you just bottling it up?”

“It really is fine,” you chuckle softly and leaning closer you kiss his scruffy cheek. “The only reason I wanted to keep it a secret is because you know how vickery the guys can get. I just didn’t want them to pick on us.”

“They do it because they are just jealous,” he smirks playfully, his shoulder bumping against yours.

“Yeah? Of what?” A soft chuckle slips through your lips.

“That I scored the hottest Avenger,” he replies smugly and you can’t help but laugh with your head snapping back.

“I didn’t know you were fucking Thor!” you retort and immediately see his smirk vanish from his lips as he stares back at you, not enjoying your joke as much as you are.

“Thor? Really? Not this shit again, Y/N,” he narrows his eyes at you. Back when you were just skirting around each other, you loved pulling his leg, joking about how much you are into the hottest Avenger, aka Thor. He never appreciated it, usually earned you a tight-lipped smile before he mumbled “Tarzan’s got nothing on me” before walking away, leaving you laughing like a hyena.

“Come on, you know I’m more into super soldiers,” you grin, leaning closer as he pepper his sharp jawline with more small kisses.

“You know, it’s not the best thing to say to your boyfriend when there are now about eight more super soldiers running around,” he huffs.

“But none of them has a metal arm,” you point out, finally making him laugh.

“So that’s your kink? A vibranium arm?” he asks with faked shock and you curl your arms around his bicep, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“How haven’t you realized yet?” you chuckle. Bucky turns his head until his lips can capture yours in a sweet, lighthearted kiss that makes you forget about everything that’s been clouding over your mind these past days. All the failures, the mistakes and chaos fades into nothing, because you have him and he has you.

Walking back into the apartment Sam stares back at you, neither of you entirely sure how to act after what just happened. He then grabs his phone from the dusty table before holding it up.

“I could order some extra dumplings,” he offers and you crack a smile shaking your head. This was his peace offering, both of you knows he won’t straight up apologize for the way he talked, but this is already more than what you were expecting from him. Bucky must have had a few words with him before joining you outside.

“It’s all good.”

The three of you get back to work, taking your previous spots, returning to the task on hand as silence falls on the room once again. You catch Sam glancing at you and the Bucky and you can tell he is about to make a snarky comment on your relationship. And just as he is about to open his big mouth, Bucky moves to silence him, but you’re faster. With a simple move you throw Sam to the ground, keeping him down with your hand wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t even think about teasing, understood?” you hiss at him as he gasps for air, his hands wrapping around your wrist as he tries to fight you off, but you hold him a second longer to emphasize the importance of your words. Then you finally let go of him and he coughs for air, fixing him up from the floor as you simply walk back to your spot by the window.

“Hottest Avenger, huh?” he breathes out, revealing that he heard what you talked about out on the stairs. “More like the Avenger with the most anger issues…”

You just grin, glancing over at your boyfriend who is now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothered by his friend’s struggles on the floor as he smirks back at you, nodding proudly as if he was saying: “That’s my girl.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[linasofia]

Blood Moon

Part 1 l Part 2 I Part 3 l Part 4

Summary: When the moon turns red anything can happen. Sofia visits Matthew, a man who wakes strong feelings in her, expecting a simple dinner. But when his brother arrives, the evening takes an unexpected turn.

Relationships: Richard Armitage x OC Sofia & Matthew Clairmont x OC Sofia (Vampire AU)

Warnings: 18+

Words: 2,6K

A/N: Not following ADOW canon, just two hot interesting male characters being brothers.

When the moon turns red anything can happen.

Her hasty steps echoed in the dark and misty alley. The faint lights from the streetlamps cast their pale light over the wet pavement, creating a constantly growing shadow in front of her every time she passed one of the old but very well preserved lanterns. She had never been fond of the dark and Matthew’s apartment was located in the oldest part of the town where the houses stood aligned close together, like soldiers from a long-forgotten time, shoulder to shoulder blocking out any light. She was convinced the walls had souls of their own and that they had seen more than the human heart could ever stand. When she came to the long narrow stairs, a shortcut she learned the first and so far only time she had been to his place, she hesitated. Despite the alley being darker than she was comfortable with, she didn’t want to walk the much longer way around the large building. Most of the windows along the stairs were dark, the residences clearly empty. She took a deep breath and made a decision.

She got to the top of the stairs, unaware of the tall figure dressed in a dark coat who emerged from the shadows just a few meters behind her. The lantern on this particular wall was broken and the owner of the building found it convenient since the darkness completely hid his heavy front door. Unknowingly, she had rushed past it just seconds ago and the man drew in a deep breath and filled his lungs with the chilly evening air. The faint hint of her scent, hidden under a flowery perfume, was calling him. It made his heart beat faster; muscles tensed and he licked his lips expectantly. It was unusual to find someone who had such an instant effect on him and he was tempted to follow her and devour her in one of the many dark alleys of this district, but then he reminded himself that he had a dinner to attend. He fought his strong urge as he watched her disappear around the corner and sighed infrustration. Knowing this city’s every corner and shadows had its advantages and if he moved quickly he would succeed. But he also knew himself extremely well, he rarely did anything like that in a hurry. He loved the rush it gave him and he always made sure he had enough time. It applied to anything he wanted to do, so he shook his head to get rid of the thought of the soft skin of her neck and her pulsing blood underneath. Besides, his younger brother had asked him to come and meet his new lady friend and he had accepted. He was curious about this woman whose name alone made his brother smile. Was she more to him than a friend? Girlfriend maybe? The man in the coat lingered at the thought and frowned. That would have been a first, for sure.

With a pondering heart she rang the bell close to the small golden plate with Matthew’s name engraved in italic and then waited while a cold wind brushed her cheek. When a click was heard from the lock, she pulled the door open and the bright light from a naked bulb in the ceiling temporarily blinded her. His apartment was on the top floor but even if the building only had four floors it lacked the comfort of an elevator.

She didn’t even have time to knock before the door opened and Matthew flashed a bright smile at her.

”Sofia! It’s so good to see you!”

She smiled back at him and let the warm light coming from his home guide her inside. With a natural gesture he offered to take her jacket and after he carefully placed it on a hanger he turned to her with a soft light shining in his eyes. He pulled her close and gently cupped her face with both of his hands. The soft kiss he placed on her lips made her heart flutter. He was so gentle, so caring and she was amazed over how easy it was to spend time with him. From what she knew about him, he seemed to be the perfect gentleman. After tasting her lips he pulled back, caught her hands and held them against his chest. His dark hair was a bit unruly, like he had run his fingers through it too many times. Was he nervous as well? Maybe it was too soon to meet his brother after all, but when he had talked about Richard, she suggested it without even thinking. She wanted to know more about Matthew’s life and friends and she was always curious to meet new people. He approved of her idea only after she convinced him that it was just a simple dinner.

”Do you want some wine?” Matthew offered with a smile dancing in the corner of his mouth. Sofia nodded and gave him a warm smile in return. With her hand still in his, he led her to the large living room but the sight that greeted her made her stop in her tracks.

”I thought we agreed on an informal dinner,” she breathed as her eyes followed the white, perfectly ironed cloth and neat table setting. ”If I had known, I would have dressed up more.” The lights were dimmed and the dark wallpaper and heavy curtains made the room feel a bit enchanted. Shadows danced over the walls due to all the lit candles in the chandelier. Matthew smiled sheepishly and his gaze followed her body’s curves as respectfully as he could. ”You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Sofia thanked her lucky star for changing to black pants instead of her usual jeans. Together with the red blouse and her deliberately messy bun she didn’t feel the urgent need to go home and upgrade her look. She wanted to make a good impression on Richard and, embarrassed, she blushed at her own thoughts. Her and Matthew weren't exclusive in any way. No promises were made, no words of love spoken between them. Still, she secretly hoped for more and sensed that getting an approval from his older brother, a man that clearly meant a great deal to him, would be a step in the right direction. She could not put words to her feelings but she had felt from the very first time she heard of Richard that the sibling’s connection went to a much deeper level than any others she had met. Being an only child herself, this fascinated her greatly. A sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

”He is here,” Matthew simply said and left her standing in the middle of the room, alone with a growing feeling of excitement, pushing away the nervousness she had felt since she took the first steps on those dreadful stairs in the alley.

Knowing his brother’s temper, Matthew hurried to the door and opened it just as Richard raised his fist to give the wood another impatient knock. ”A few more seconds and I would have used my own key,” he muttered dryly.

”Don’t you dare,” Matthew replied. ”Besides, you didn’t wait that long. Come inside. I can’t wait for you to meet Sofia.”

Richard closed the door silently behind him. When he reached for a hanger his hand suddenly froze as his nose picked up the sweet smell of jasmine. He felt it clearly and instantly recognized it. It cut through the air like a sharp blade; the scent from the alley. Like he didn't trust his own eyes, he stared at the unfamiliar jacket for a few seconds, and the memory of the woman's back disappearing out of sight caused his heart to beat faster. With the adrenaline now pumping in his veins, he grabbed the sleeve and pulled it against his nose. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A wave of predatory need welled up inside and he could not prevent the dark groan erupting from his throat.

”This is the second time this evening that I come across this smell.” Richard opened his eyes and met his brother's gaze with a cold expression. ”Is it hers?”

Matthew nodded and braced himself, for he knew all too well what his brother was doing and it made him feel sick. ”You can't have her,” he warned.

Richard stared at him and lowered his voice. ”We have shared women in the past, in more ways than one. Tell me brother, why is she different?”

A dark mumbling came from the hallway. Sofia could not hear the words uttered between the two men but she could distinguish their voices. Until this moment, she had thought that Matthew had an exceptionally dark and very pleasant voice, but Richard…his voice was even deeper. As their voices reached a normal conversation level and she could hear them approaching, she found it impossible to not wonder what else the family genes had graced him with. Only a few seconds later she had an answer to her own question. The man entering the room was gorgeous. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of trousers, held in place by a belt with a brushed metal clasp. Slightly taller than his younger brother, Richard’s presence filled the room in a more demanding way and she could feel it instantly. His hair was shorter than Matthew’s and his dark stubble gave him a rougher look. With a confident smile he walked right up to her and she offered him her hand. He took it, but instead of shaking it, he slowly lifted her hand and lightly brushed the skin on the knuckles with his lips. Neither of them said anything. No introduction, no pleasantries, but something shifted in his eyes and it made her forget her manners. His eyes never left hers and Sofia felt a strange tingling on her skin when he released her hand.

Matthew observed his brother and closed the distance between himself and Sofia. He put his arm protectively around her shoulders and gave his brother a warning stare. When Richard wanted something, or rather someone, he could be incredibly charming and alluring with his intense personality, but Matthew also knew how ruthless his brother was. Richard was a hunter, and a very dangerous one. His dark desires were much stronger than Matthew’s and on the rare occasions when the woman he had marked as prey didn’t give in to his needs willingly, he still took what he wanted. But as Richard had told Matthew many times, a willing woman tastes better so make sure you have her aroused before you sink your fangs into her soft skin.

”It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Richard broke the silence.

”Likewise, I’ve heard a great deal about you.” Her voice betrayed her as well as her heart. It was beating faster now and Richard could hear it. She didn’t know of course that she gave every shift in her emotions away, and the satisfaction temporarily showed in his eyes. He had affected her with his gentle kiss and felt pleased. This was going to be an interesting night. Maybe even spectacular.

The perfectly chilled champagne tasted wonderful on her tongue and after half a glass Sofia finally felt the trace of Richard’s unexpected kiss on her hand fade away. It had been only a brief touch by his lips but she had shivered and the look in his eyes afterwards hid something she didn’t understand. Seated right in front of her, Richard easily captured her attention and the conversation between them felt natural. Matthew sat next to her and the tension she had sensed in his body when he first put his arm around her seemed to have disappeared. When the main course was almost finished and another wine bottle stood empty at the table, she felt his hand slowly running over her knee. It was a gentle and comforting caress and she turned to him and smiled. He really was sweet, she thought, probably wanting her to feel relaxed in the company of his brother. Warmth spread over her cheeks as he slowly let his hand glide over her thigh. It was a small sensual gesture but the fact that Richard caught her gaze and locked it with his made her breath hitch. Sofia couldn’t let go of the thought that he just maybe had seen what his brother did.

”Brother,” Richard turned to Matthew, ”how about that dessert?”

Matthew pulled his hand away and stood from the table with a slightly concerned expression. ”It will take a while, I trust you to behave and don’t embarrass Sofia with exaggerated stories about me.”

”I can’t promise that I won't,” Richard answered with a grin, but his brother didn’t miss the change in his eyes.

As soon as Matthew left the room, something in the atmosphere changed. Sofia could swear that the room became darker, like someone covered the lights with black veils. The expression on Richard's face seemed different as well. He truly was an interesting creature but she was failing to find words to continue the conversation. She looked at the large chandelier, majestically placed on the table. Was it suddenly warmer in the living room? Her head spun and she was not sure if it was only from the wine. She rose slowly from her chair.

”I think I need some air,” her voice sounded strange and when she walked over to the door leading to the small balcony she heard Richard’s chair scrape against the wooden floor. It was a little chilly outside but the wind had stilled, so she welcomed the cold embrace. Without thinking she placed her hands on the beautiful iron railing but the icy sting made her quickly withdraw them. She didn’t hear his steps behind her, but she felt his presence. And to her surprise she realized that she wanted him to be there. He rested his back against the railing, facing her.

”Look at the red moon,” she exclaimed. ”I’ve never seen anything like that.”

”It’s also known under another name…” Richard answered and watched her intensely. ”Blood Moon.”

The way he spoke the last words made her shiver, but not from the cold. He drew closer.

”Are you intimidated by me?” His deep voice made her heart increase its speed. She could not deny that she felt drawn to him, like his gravity was greater than the earth itself. With eyes darker than the night surrounding her, he towered over her. Still, she shook her head.

”Then why does your heart beat faster now?” His voice was only a hoarse whisper. She swallowed hard when his long fingers closed around her wrist and he could feel her racing pulse. Slowly he brought her hand to his face and with a growing tension between them, he pressed his nose gently against the thin skin on the inside of her wrist. Then he took a deep breath and her scent awoke the primal need in him. He craved her.

”It’s ready!” Matthew’s voice sounded from inside.

None of them answered him but the moment was lost and Richard cursed his brother's timing. Fighting the urge to lick the delicate skin on her wrist, Richard placed a kiss right over the large vein that thrummed under his touch. A shaky sigh left her and in that moment he knew he had her. The dark nature of his character allowed him to smell it, her needs seeped from her like sweet drops of elixir, ready for him to devour. He couldn’t wait for an opportunity to feel her soft skin again, but next time he would be tasting a different part of her body. And she would beg him to. It was just a matter of time.

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[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #24: Mine: Katsuki Bakugou

On the way home from a night out with Bakugou, you realize that things may not have gone as smoothly as you’d hoped. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, jealous!bakugou, rough sex, rough oral sex (both m and f-receiving), cum swallowing, marathon fucking, spanking, choking if you squint, a little aftercare

Notes: This is f i l t h y. And kind of brutal, to be honest. But if anyone’s going to be an absolute animal in bed, it’s Bakugou when he’s feeling jealous. 

It’s a little more proofread than usual. And kind of on the longish side (~3.5k), so strap in.

You’re welcome? I think? 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize something’s up.

Another Friday night, another agency gala. Bakugou hates black tie until you remind him how good he looks in a suit, and he loves to see you in those body-hugging silk dresses as often as possible, so he’s usually happy to suck it up for the occasion.

He’s such a misanthrope that you weren’t even surprised when he tugged you out of there in a hurry, whisking you into the car and driving off in sullen silence.

You’ve been trying to make conversation all the way home- it was nice to see Denki again, I hear Kiri’s teaching at UA these days, did you know Iida’s going back for his Master’s degree- but every time you mention a name from his past, Bakugou’s shoulders draw up tighter around his ears.

Fair enough.

You keep the radio low and distract yourself with the passing downtown lights. You feign serenity, but inside your mind is coming to pieces. If Bakugou’s annoyed at something- comically, playfully, extravagantly annoyed- he’s got road rage like nothing you’ve ever seen. But tonight, he pulls silently up to each red light. Jaw set. Crimson eyes steady on the road.

Something’s really up with him tonight.

He turns smoothly into your underground garage, pulling the car into his parking spot and killing the engine. He shoots you one smouldering, solid glare, then gets out of the car and slams the door nearly hard enough to dent it.

“Baby?” Your voice is tiny as it echoes across the concrete garage, and you shuffle to catch up with him in your narrow skirt and heels. As he pushes open the heavy glass door and you follow him into the elevator bay, your patience narrows.

“Okay,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “You’ve had your time to pout. You’ve made it clear, you’re mad at me. So, are you going to tell me what I did, or do I have to figure that part out for myself?”

The doors roll open. Bakugou grabs your wrist.

He tugs you into the elevator and slams you against the wall so fast you see spots in the bright fluorescent lights over your head. Before you can even process the change in his character, he’s pressed his whole torso along yours, pinning you to the cool granite wall and crushing his mouth on yours.

You kind of hate how into it you are.

You let him kiss you for a minute, but you’re not backing down from this fight. Bakugou’s never been good at communication. You’re working on it. There’s no way you’re letting this one slide.

“Katsuki,” you bark, jerking your face harshly to one side and planting your hands on his shoulders. He gives a vicious snarl, but he’s not forcing you to kiss him.

“Stop it,” you hiss. “If something’s wrong, tell me.”

“You mean you really haven’t figured it out by now?” His voice is low and gravelly and edged by wildness. It’s clear he’s been barely holding on to his temper all the way home.

“No. I haven’t.” The elevator starts to move. It’s a tall building- and it’s a long way up to the penthouse.

“Course you didn’t,” he grunts, still pinning you hard. He draws his mouth along the edge of your jaw. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t notice the way they were all lookin’ at you.”

“Who?”

His temper cracks again and he snarls, shoving you more firmly against the wall again. One hand slides up your chest and his fingers grip tightly at your shoulder, teasing at the hollow of your throat.

Oh.

So it’s gonna be like that.

“Everyone,” he hisses. “Kirishima. Denki. Everyone. You wore that tight little fuckin’ dress and they couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

“Katsuki,” you croon low and smooth, even though you know you’re gonna regret it. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

The palm that teased at your throat closes around it now, using its gentle grip to push your head against the wall. He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to get a rise out of you. And he squeezes.

“Don’t.”

He’s warning you, but you’re too relieved to know that you never actually did anything wrong. This is just another one of Bakugou’s temper tantrums that you’re going to benefit from.

“You are,” you hiss, grinning wider. “Jealous of your old classmates? C’mon, baby, you know better than that.”

“Shut up.”

His mouth covers yours again. His thumb brushes over the flutter of your pulse point as he licks into your mouth, biting down hard and sucking at your lower lip.

The elevator chimes. Before the doors can roll open, he stoops and grabs you by the thighs. He slings you over his shoulder and straightens easily, delivering a harsh slap to your ass.

“Katsuki!” You squirm over his shoulder, beating at the back of his coat as your face goes hot. There are two apartments on this floor, and the chances that one of your very respectable neighbours is standing in the hallway aren’t zero.

Smack.

Another blow, to the other cheek this time, and you go still.

“Quit strugglin’,” Bakugou barks, “or I’ll drop you on your head.”

He shifts your weight easily into one arm, digging into his pants pocket and producing his key. Deftly, he unlocks the door to your condo and pushes it in with his shoulder. As soon as he kicks the door shut behind him, he sets you on your feet.

Before you can scold him for your burning cheeks, he shoves both hands under the edges of your coat, wedging it off your shoulders.

“C’mere,” he snarls. He slides one hand down your back, between the wool and the silk, and palms the swell of your ass. Your coat hits the floor in a swath of black tweed and then he’s stooping again to pick you up, forcing your thighs apart around his hips. The smirk that decorates his features is vicious. His cheeks have gone pink.

You’re a sucker for him when he gets like this.

“Listen to me.” He sets you on the kitchen counter and steps up between your thighs, shoving your long skirt up and sideways around its high slit. “I am not. Jealous. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re fuckin’ mine, okay?”

“You’d think the fact that we’re-hmmmph.”

He kisses you again before you get to finish your sentence, then rips himself from your lips. He tugs your body closer by the hips and buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, nipping and sucking hard at the skin there in his best attempt at leaving a mark. All the while, his fingers fumble with the straps on your dress, slipping them off your shoulders.

He wraps his hands in the silk bodice and tugs. Hard. One of the straps snaps over your upper arm as he shoves your dress down around your waist, exposing your chest.

“Baby,” you whine, but you know he’ll make it up to you later.

“All fuckin’ mine,” he growls again, slipping his rough palms over your breasts and squeezing them together. “Gonna make you feel it, sweetness.”

He attacks your collarbones and breasts, leaving mark after mark as his teeth and tongue lave over your skin. When he’s had enough, he gets down on his knees in front of the counter and curls his fingers into your underwear, tearing it clean off your body.

“Katsuki!” You grab him by the top of the head, attempting to push him away by his hair.

“You shouldn’t wear such flimsy shit, if you don’t want me to break it,” he chuckles, already biting up the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me,” he mumbles, tugging you right to the edge of the counter and bracing your thighs in both hands. “Can Shitty Hair make you scream like this?”

He dives into your pussy, plunging his tongue straight into your tight heat and making you shudder and moan. You can’t help but bend to his whim- he knows your body better than his own, and he’s not shy about showing it off.

Bakugou’s desperate, tongue-fucking you with reckless abandon. He swirls messy saliva around the tender nub of your already-swollen clit. Sometimes he’s patient, working you to the edge slowly, but tonight he forces pleasure into you, brutal and unrelenting.

You live for it.

“Katsuki,” you whine, raking your fingers through his unruly hair, “baby, please, oh, fuck!”

Your first orgasm hits you mercilessly, and you cum with a deep cry of pleasure as your heels draw up his back. You’re still wearing your shoes- pretty, strappy sandals that drive him crazy. Even crazier, when they’re digging into his flesh like they are now.

“That’s it,” he growls, drawing back from you all slicked-up and wild-eyed. His lips are flushed deep from gorging himself on you, and he wipes the back of his mouth with a silk shirtsleeve as he gets to his feet, shrugging impatiently out of his suit jacket.

“God, fuck,” you sigh. You reach for him, but he grabs you again, lifting you onto his hips. This time he’s hard, and you can feel it twitching against the inside of your thigh, heated and ready.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

This time, he makes it as far as the sofa before he flops into the cushions, dragging you into his lap. You straddle him eagerly and lean forward against his chest, the fabric of your dress still bunching around your waist and hips. You grab him by the jaw and kiss away the lingering remnants of your lipstick while he palms your ass and grinds the stiff, pressed wool of his crotch and his straining cock shamelessly against you.

For an instant, you sense control. And he lets you enjoy it. Slowly he lifts his hands to your back, smoothing the fabric of your dress with one palm so he can grasp its zipper and slide it open with the other.

As soon as he breaks from your mouth to lift the fabric over your head, you know what you want to do with your reins.

“Where’r you goin’?” He scolds, watching you draw back from his lap. His crimson gaze is clouded with lust. But his jaw is still tight, frustration licking at his body like flames.

“Not far.”

You drop to your knees in front of him. Tug his shirt roughly out of his pants and slide your fingers underneath it to find his fly.

He chuckles, low and feral, smoothing a hand through what’s left of your hairstyle for the night.

“That’s my girl,” he chides. “Show me who you belong to.”

The prospect strikes a nerve of want somewhere deep inside you. You dig your hands into the folds of his undershorts, wrapping your hands around the hot silk of his erection and pulling it into the open.

It’s impossible for you to pretend that Bakugou doesn’t have the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. When he’s hard like this, it’s pink and flushed and drooling slick precum. It’s thick and soft and curving up toward his belly. It’s like he’s made for you. You fit together like the two halves of a lock. Sculpted for each other, molded out of one another.

And he loves it when you suck him off.

You give the tip of his twitching cock a bare little lick and his fingers twist, tightening threateningly in your hair.

“Don’t tease me, sweetness,” he snarls, “or I’ll make you choke on it.”

He’s probably going to do that anyway.

You brace your hands on his thighs and straighten up, sucking his tender tip into your mouth. You lave your tongue over it, and he bristles, watching you carefully with a tight-lipped groan.

It’s not long before you settle into a rhythm, sucking him down messily while your right hand picks up the slack. He’s grabbing you by the hair and staying tense. His thighs are rock hard on either side of you.

You take him into your throat and stay there, and he breaks.

“Aw, fuck,” he growls. His head falls back and he grabs your head with his other hand, too. His hips buck into your throat and you gag, spitting messily around his shaft as he starts to fuck your throat in earnest.

The sounds that erupt from the both of you are obscene. You’re drooling all over his suit pants, but his control is nowhere to be found. And when you grab his balls and squeeze his spine goes concave. He throws his head back. He howls.

“Fuck!” His hips stutter hard, but he doesn’t stop. Neither do you.

“Aw, fuck, sweetness,” he growls. “Fuck. Fuck. Look at you, chokin’ on my dick. Look at you, taking it so fuckin’ good. I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard down your throat. I’m gonna make you taste me, baby, so close. Fuck, oh, fuck, oh-“

His babbling ceases as the spring in his body is released. It’s like all his nerves go inside out for a second. You grab his thighs as hard as you can and squeeze while he ruts into your face and pumps his load right down your throat.

When he’s finished, you draw your mouth carefully from his twitching dick. You half-expect to see him sprawled across the couch completely spent, but before you can even get a look at his face, he grabs you all over again. His voice is sandpaper in your ear.

“’M takin’ you to bed. Now.”

You’re already tender, but you’re ready for more. You live for this; when he gets too wild to speak, too crazy to stop. Testing the limits of your stamina is something that will never get boring.

Especially not when you’ve got Bakugou on the other end.

He lays you down against the pillows and flips you onto your belly.

“Stay put.”

He steps back, shucking himself out of his pants and undershorts. He practically tears away his shirt and tie. He doesn’t come back to you until he’s naked. When he does, he drags you up onto your knees and keeps your face pushed into the pillows.

“There you go,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ sweet for me, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you know that? Gonna fuck you so good they’ll hear you screamin’ back at the party.”

You’re gonna have to ask Kirishima to look at you like that more often.

He bends behind you and seals his mouth over your pussy, laving his tongue over your folds again. His shoulder bobs against your ass and you can tell he’s stroking himself- encouraging his spent flesh to rise to the occasion.

The taste of you always spurs him on.

When he’s ready, he pulls abruptly away and lines the tip of his cock up with your slick folds. He grabs the curve of your ass hard with one hand. Gives it a hard smack. It’s already stinging from his rough treatment earlier, but you’re sure he’s not finished with it.

“You gonna tell me who you belong to?” He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, teasing you with the heated flesh. You want it so bad by now that it aches, and you turn your head to gasp for breath as you grip hard at the sheets.

“I never belonged to anyone else,” you plead softly. He doesn’t like that answer and punctuates his disappointment with another hard slap to your ass. He draws a cry from you. You’re starting to lose yourself.

“Try again.”

“Please,” you sob, wiggling your hips against his. He leans back, keeping himself from you.

“Who. Do you. Belong. To?”

“You.”

The answer clicks as your need grows to unbearable levels. You say it like a prayer. Like a plea for mercy.

Bakugou delivers.

“That’s right. You’re mine, sweetness. You hear me? Mine. All mine.”

He sinks into you on the last syllable and his voice turns to jelly. His thighs are strong and firm as they bump against yours. He bottoms out. Gives you a breath to adjust to the stretch.

Then he fucks. Hard.

He grabs you by the hips and slams himself deep into your pussy, quickly settling into a brutal rhythm that leaves his thighs slapping hard against the curve of your ass. He punctuates every other stroke with a hard smack to your ass, too, leaving you raw and stinging.

It’s good. It’s so good this way. He bends over to bring his chest close to yours as he fucks you hard and fast, growling possessively in your ear. He snatches you by the hair when you try to lift your head, shoving your face back into the pillows and muffling your deep cries of pleasure.

Every hard thrust of his cock seems to reverberate through your entire body. At this angle, his tip nudges your cervix like a panic button. It sends shockwaves of pleasure over every nerve.

“That’s right,” he’s still babbling above you, breathless and panting, but forcing the words out anyway. “That’s right, sweetness, you’re fuckin’ mine. Nobody does this to you but me, baby, nobody. Gonna fuck you ‘till you scream. Gonna fuck you till you beg me to stop. Gonna fill you with so much of my fuckin’ cum, you’ll never forget who you belong to.”

Your climax draws closer by the moment. You’re trying to warn him, but he’s got you pinned fast. The pleasure looms inevitably over you, and you can’t stop the crest of the wave before it crashes over your trembling form.

You cum hard around him, your muscles squeezing and fluttering around his pounding cock. He gives a shout of surprise and fucks you double-time through your climax. As your high retreats he finds his, sliding an arm around your hips and sliding balls-deep before pleasure erupts along his spine and he pumps you full of slick cum.

When it’s over, he flips you onto your back. He pushes his cock inside you again despite your soft whines of sensation, pumping slowly in and out of you and watching the way his cum spills over as he fills you all over again.

“You got one more in you?” He pants.

“Baby,” you plead, overstimulated and spent. He slides his hands up your ribcage, thumbing your tight nipples.

“C’mon, sweetness. You can handle it. I know you got it in you.”

“One more,” you pant. You stretch your cramping legs out around his hips, toeing each one of your heels off behind you. He slides his palms all the way up your shoulders and down your arms, finding your wrists and pinning them tightly over your head.

“God damn,” he grunts, looking you over. Marred with the marks his teeth printed across your skin. Mottled with bruises already forming on your hips, your thighs, your throat.

“Look at you,” he purrs. He shifts your wrists into one hand and strokes the fingertips of his other over the bruises on your throat. He grins wickedly.

“Better make those worth your while.”

His palm lowers against your throat as his hips pick up speed again. He fucks you hard into the mattress beneath you. The ache in your hips is exacerbated by the sudden friction, but it’s cooled by the warm slick of his cum inside you.

Neither of you last long this time.

Your third orgasm of the night is tight and desperate, and you come down from your high shaking and straining against his hold.

“Not gonna… can’t hold on,” he warns. “Fuck, sweetness, fuck, baby, fuuuuuck-“

He collapses onto you as he cums, burying his hips into the apex of your thighs and pushing another fresh load into your belly. His cock stirs inside you as he shudders and finally goes soft against you. Spent at long last.

When he pulls his softening dick from your body, you’re well past overstimulated.

He’s fucked his temper out on you.

“Alright,” he rasps. “You’re okay, sweetness. C’mere.”

He rolls onto his side and settles a hand over your belly, rubbing slow and gentle as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. He gives your hand a squeeze and rolls out of bed, snagging his undershorts from the floor and climbing into them.

He goes quiet, when it’s time to take care of you. Sometimes you wonder if he feels guilty about using you like this. But you’ve talked about it. You stop him when you’ve had enough. You’re good at that.

He likes that you’re not afraid to stand up to him.

Bakugou wraps you in a blanket from the bed and carries you out to the living room, depositing you on the couch. He can keep an eye on you easily as he heads to the kitchen to get you a drink. It’s important to you that he stays close when you need him like this.

He kneels in front of you and slips his fingers under your heavy chin.

“Here we go, baby. C’mon. Drink it.”

He tilts a glass of cool tap water against your lips and you raise a hand to steady it, drinking down a few, steady gulps. You’re heavy and sex-drunk and sleepy, warming his bitter heart with the expressions that cross your hazy face.

“That’s it.”

He slides beneath you and pulls you-blanket and all- into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Cradling your body with his. He leans down and settles his forehead over yours. His eyelashes brush your cheek. He lets out a deep, heavy sigh.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles to you, but it takes on a different meaning altogether when he says it like this. You’re mine, he’s telling you, and I’m gonna take care of you.

He finds your hand and brushes his thumb over the diamond ring that rests there. In truth, that’s all the proof he needs that you’ve signed up for him.

All of him.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[gotnofucks]

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

 Taglist is open for all characters

[ikeromantic]

Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

[escapewithbts]

Charity Case - Yoongi

Not super edited, not sure if I love it, blah blah blah, please still enjoy...

I’ve been in such a Yoongi mood lately 😇

----------------------------------------------------

You stared at your bank statement, or more specifically, your savings account. You had saved up a decent amount of money, that was for sure, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to kickstart your dream.

It all happened a few days ago on a Tuesday afternoon. You had just finished lunch with a friend who was from your home country. The two of you had found a restaurant specializing in the traditional food from there since you both were craving a taste of home. On your walk back to your apartment, you noticed the road you usually took was blocked off with construction (typical for the summertime in Seoul you were learning), so ultimately you had to take a detour, pulling out your Maps app. Although you lived in Hongdae, you really only took the same few roads daily. Therefore, you still did not quite know your way around.

The new directions had you weave down a side street, one you had never been on before. To your surprise, it was full of restaurants, shops, and cafes, and since Hongdae was known for homing many foreigners within the city of Seoul, many of them featured things you were very familiar with from back home.

Strolling down the block you made mental notes of places you wanted to try, places that were bustling with people, figuring they must be good if that’s the case.

All of a sudden, between an American grocery store and floral shop, you noticed a beautiful empty store front. You peered in the large windows and was met with a decent sized space, white walls, white tile floors, a lot of natural lighting. It was perfect. In the corner of the same window there was a sign that read “FOR LEASE” with the name of the agent and a phone number.

You took a picture of said sign before stuffing your phone back in your pocket. There was no harm in calling, right? Even just getting a feel for the space was harmless…right?

For ever since coming to Seoul from abroad, it was your dream to open your own bakery. To make desserts and breads and pastries fresh daily for the Seoulites to try and the foreigners to feel nostalgic for their home countries. You were currently working a boring office job as a translator, saving for the moment you could follow your true dream.

And maybe this was a sign… this was it.

 So, you did call. You did get a feel for the space. And it was perfect. Turns out it had been a pizza shop that went under, (too much competition) so there were already ovens and freezers and refrigeration, all in great working condition. The agent informed you the floor could be ripped up and replaced, there were already light fixtures attached in the ceiling that could connect to chandeliers and you were already picturing plants hanging from macrame in front of the large windows.

But there was just one problem.

As you stared at your savings account and compared it to the down payment in the brochure the realtor had given you… they didn’t match. You were short about 1/3 of the cost, especially since there was still some work to be done inside to really make it your own.

You heart sunk. You mentally scolded yourself for getting your hopes up. It was in such a prime location; how could you have been so stupid to think it was in your price range!

Suddenly, instead of staring at your lack of funds, you were staring at your face in your phone’s front camera as you received a FaceTime call request. ‘Yoongi’ was the name at the top of the phone screen, accompanied by your favorite picture you had taken of him candidly making a gummy smile caused by a joke you had told. Right on time for the daily call you two always had.

You sighed. Did you really want to speak to him right now? You were great friends, you had (stupidly) told him about the place and he had been so incredibly excited for you. He was so supportive and encouraging… it was incredibly endearing. Reminding yourself of that you pressed the green accept button.

Immediately you were met with the handsome face and bleach blonde hair of Min Yoongi. He was resting his head back on his black leather sofa, his narrow eyes meeting yours between screens.

“Hi Yoongi-ah,” you gave him a small smile.

“Hey (y/n).” he responded, returning the smile.

You stood up and walked over to the couch in your small apartment, sitting down and curling your legs underneath you.

“What are you up to?” you asked.

He reached towards the screen and flipped it, so it was now looking forward. An NBA basketball game was playing on the large tv in his living room.

“Watching the game. It’s game 4 of the finals so if Pheonix wins this one they only have one more game to win before they win it all.”

He returned the screen to face him.

“Oh, that’s cool,” you replied, “Did you have a lot on your work schedule today?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“It wasn’t too bad. Practiced PTD for a Japanese tv performance we have coming up. Worked on some music between rehearsals,” he shrugged, “the usual.”  

You nodded.

“You?” he questioned, “how was your day?”

You looked down at the couch cushions and fiddled with the blanket that laid beside you. You bit your lip before responding.

“Fine. It was fine. I, uh, I had that appointment. With the agent in charge of that space I was interested in?”

Yoongi’s eyes got wide, and he perked his head up.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. How was it? Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

A small grin appeared on your face remembering how picturesque it had been.

“It was even better than I thought it would be, Yoongs,” you told him.

He smiled wide.

“That’s incredible! So wh-what now? Did you put down the money for it? Or did you need me to come with you to look at it again, see if there’s anything that needs fixing that I can do??”

You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head. He was so sweet, and it broke your heart even more.

“Thank you, Yoongi, for offering, but that… won’t be necessary.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, expecting his next question to make you feel uneasy.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? Why not? I really don’t mind.”

You sighed, suddenly incredibly embarrassed to be admitting this to your friend.

“I just saw the statement of my bank account and, well, I don’t… I can’t afford the down payment. I don’t have enough saved up yet.”

You couldn’t help but look down in shame. Yoongi never talked about his money or how much he made being in BTS, but you weren’t stupid. He worked incredibly hard for everything he and his fellow members have achieved and you were nothing but proud of him. He deserved it all, even the unassumingly large income he was bringing in. He would never, ever flaunt it or make you feel inferior to him because of it, but you still felt slightly inefficient in your confession.

Yoongi’s face softened.

“Oh… I’m-I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You shrugged and gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s alright. It just means it wasn’t meant to be, that’s all.”

He gave you a sympathetic frown.

“But you said it was perfect.” He reminded you.

You placed your fingers to the bridge of your nose.

“Because it is, Yoongi-ah. It’s bright and cozy and practically ready. Not to mention it’s an incredible location,” you rolled your eyes at yourself, “I really should have known it would be too much.”

“How much is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You looked away again and scrunched your nose, before telling him the exact amount required to put down in order for the space to be yours.

His mouth formed into that straight line he was known for when he was neither happy nor displeased by something.

“Could you get a loan? Like from a bank?”

You shook your head.

“I already looked into it,” you informed him, “it’s weird because my bank is home, but I’m abroad so there would be a lot of hoops to jump through and the chances of being approved are slim to none. Basically, it’s not worth putting a mark on my credit for.”

He nodded in understanding, looking away for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together in thought, and as much as you appreciated him trying to help you, you had already thought of all the possible solutions, and you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s okay, Yoongs, really, I’ll find someplace else.” You smiled reassuringly at him.

He looked back at you and hummed in agreement before you began talking about something else.

 -

The next day you had barely stepped out of your office building after a long day at work when your phone’s text message notification sound went off.

5:49pm from Yoongi: Are you off work yet?

5:49pm to Yoongi: Leaving now. What’s up?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Can you meet me here at the HYBE building ASAP?

You furrowed your eyebrows.

5:50pm to Yoongi: Sure. Is everything okay?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Yeah, everything is fine

5:51pm from Yoongi: Come to the Forum at the top floor when you get here, okay? I already told the front desk you’re coming

5:51pm to Yoongi: You’re being weird but okay

5:51pm from Yoongi: Don’t worry so much you pabo, it’s nothing bad

You rolled your eyes and locked your phone before hailing a taxi.

 The ride to Yoongi’s work was longer than usual because of traffic, but eventually you made it, giving a wad of cash to the driver and stepping out of the cab. The tall, reflective HYBE building intimidated you a little bit, like you were going to get in trouble just for stepping foot on its grounds, but you confidently passed the transparent sign that read “HYBE We Believe in Music” and opened the doors to the main entrance. A woman at the front desk greeted you and asked to see your ID when you told her you were here to see Min Yoongi. When she confirmed your identity, she gestured toward the elevators.

 “Yes, you may proceed to the Forum on the 19th floor, he is waiting near the café there.”

You nodded and thanked her before letting the elevator doors close in front of you.

The aroma of coffee wafted into your nose immediately upon stepping out of the elevators. It smelled heavenly. You walked past many groups of HYBE businessmen and women taking breaks or in small meetings before finally spotting Yoongi at a table in the corner near the large windows. He was fixated on his phone, an iced Americano on the table in front of him, and another iced drink sitting across. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him in person as his schedule was usually jam packed, but upon seeing him now your heart skipped a beat and a wide smile formed on your lips. You hadn’t seen his newly bleached hair in person yet and he looked even more handsome than you imagined. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight. It was good to see him again. You missed him.

 “Hi,” you said, pulling out the chair and sitting down across from him, “the building is incredible.”

He glanced up at you and nodded in agreement.

 “It’s nice. They did a great job. I don’t mind coming to work as much now.” He chuckled to himself, and you rolled your eyes.

He pointed to the beverage in front of you.

 “The drinks are good, too, I got your favorite.”

You smiled at him and took a sip. He was right, it was delicious.

 “Thanks, Yoongs.”

He stared at you for a moment, a grin forming on his face. Your face felt hot, and you had to look away.

“Sooo… why did you need me here so urgently?” you quickly wondered.

“Urgently?” he retaliated, “it sure took you long enough.”

Oh, how you loved his bluntness.

You scoffed.

“Well, excuuuuse me, Mr. Min, normal people go home from work around this time, so traffic was absolutely horrendous! Could you have picked any other time of day?”

He smiled and looked down at his hands while shaking his head.

“This was literally the only open slot I had today, sorry,” he glanced at the time on his phone, “and I’m already almost out of time as it is.”

You waved your hands, urging him on.

“Well then, what is it that it couldn’t wait?”

He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Aiisshh okay, please don’t be mad.”

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your head.

“Mad? What? What is it, Min Suga?”

He took a deep breath and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper. Then he unfolded it carefully and placed it in the middle of the table facing you.

To your shock, it was a personal check. From Yoongi’s bank account. Written for the exact amount you had told him last night of the down payment for the perfect shop you couldn’t afford.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes left the rectangular paper to look into his. They were a little weary, maybe, but hopeful.

“Yoongi…” you started.

He held up his hand.

“Please. Just take it, (y/n).”

Your heart was pounding. There in front of you was the exact amount you needed to start your dream. Your very own bakery. And combined with the amount you had in your savings you could even add some extra touches!

But… you couldn’t do it. You knew you couldn’t. This was your dream, and even if that amount of money was nothing to someone like Yoongi, you wanted to be the one to earn it, like he had earned all his successes.

“I-I… I can’t, Yoongi.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“(y/n) …”

“Thank you, Yoongi, truly, it means so much.”

He shook his head and motioned to the check.

“Then just take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“But you said so yourself that place is perfect! You were in love with it!”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. Did he have to keep reminding you how great it was?

“Yes. But I cannot afford it. There will be other places.”

“You can afford it if you take this. Please, (y/n), this won’t hurt me in anyway financially, I’m good. I want you to be, too.”

“I am good, Yoongi. I work hard and I’m saving. This place is just not it and I have to accept that. Maybe a time will come where I can afford someplace like it, and when it does it will be just as perfect.”

He rolled his eyes.

“How do you know you’ll find another place?? Jesus, you’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, (y/n).”

Your hands balled up into fists. Okay that was it. Calling you stubborn because you wanted to be self sufficient had made you hit your boiling point.

“I’m stubborn? How about I just don’t want to be your charity case, idol Min Yoongi, hmm?” you whispered harshly to him, “I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t want your help; I don’t need your help. I’m a fucking adult, too, you know, just because I don’t make millions doesn’t mean I can’t make smart financial decisions. God, do you think I’m just that pathetic?”

You got up to leave, so over this conversation.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut.

“What? Fuck, (y/n), no I don’t think you’re pathetic. If anything… I-I’m the pathetic one.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before marching back toward the elevators and hitting the down arrow button.

Yoongi followed.

“Do you know why?” he asked, jumping into the elevator with you before the doors could close.

It was just the two of you as it began its long descent down 19 floors.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why what? Why you’re pathetic?” you snorted, “Because you just offered your friend an obscene amount of money for something you have no part in?”

He looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

Finally, he peered back up at you and his dark brown eyes met yours.

“Well, that, and because,” he paused, shuffling nervously on his feet, “because I’m having a really hard time telling that same friend how I truly feel about her.”

Your heart stopped and your mouth fell open again, in a different kind of shock.

“What?” you said softly.

“Fuck, I love you, (y/n)!” the pale skin of his face turned a bright red, and he took his gaze away again, “Aiiisshh, I’m sorry, I’m just horrible at showing my emotions and telling people how I feel. I guess I was hoping offering you the money would help you understand but I didn’t even think how it would come off, I just wanted you to know that I support you and I want to be apart of your decisions in life as more than a friend and- “

You cut off his worrisome rant by flinging yourself towards him and kissing him hard. It was his turn to be shocked, but he instantly got the memo and pushed you back against the wall of the elevator in passion. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands grazing the bare skin of your lower back under your shirt. You gripped your hands in his blonde locks.

The elevator let out a ding signaling you had reached the first floor. You pulled away from each other, panting from the heat of the moment. You smiled.

“I love you, too, Yoongs. But I’m still not taking your money.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

Then you started to exit the elevator, but you felt him grab your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turned back toward him with confused eyes.

He grinned at you, his eyes suddenly full of lust.

“Do you maybe... want to see my new studio?”

*

Masterlist

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

A Childhood Promise

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - None I don’t think

Word Count - 2.5k

Other Comments - I hate posting on Tumblr I’m not gonna lie to you guys. Trying to get this shit to post has been so hard. Please I just want a crumb of recognition tumblr. Let people see my posts.

      Life used to be so simple when you were younger. You had a lovely close knit family, you went to a great school, you had great friends. All around you were a happy little kid. The best thing you will ever remember from your childhood was your best friend Ajax. Everything was so simple.

Ajax was the poster child of a “perfect kid”. He was well liked by his teachers and peers, he had superb grades, he was becoming a young prodigy in his combat class, and above all, he was your all time best friend. You two were inseparable ever since you had met when your parents had all gotten to know each other once at an event.

     No one ever really saw one of you without the other, and if they ever did come across such a sight, it would never last long. You two also almost went through the entirety of school being in the same class, and if you weren’t, Ajax would always find a way to catch you right as you were being dismissed. You two had the most innocent yet cliché childhood friendship, as you two played with each other or hung out day after day.

     “One day (y/n) I’m going to marry you! I promise!” Ajax enveloped you in a hug as the two of you giggled.

     This lasted for quite some time, that was until Ajax had turned eighteen. His combat skills had skyrocketed since his adolescent classes and competitive matches. Combat came like second nature to him, and that didn’t go by unnoticed. Very quickly Ajax got an offer for a job, one that he would never tell you details about. You remember the shock that enveloped you when Ajax excitedly spouted the good news to you.

     You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. You wanted to be happy for your childhood friend because this was an amazing offer for him, and an incredible opportunity to keep growing. But on the other hand you wanted to be sad because you knew you would see him less and less as time went on, not only that but you were still just so uncertain about this job. Ajax never withheld information about what was going on in his life until now; what if he got himself into something awful? Nonetheless you quickly plastered a shocked and excited expression on your face, as you rambled different forms of congrats and praise for being so good. Before Ajax left to go back to his home you gave him the tightest hugged and made him promise to stay close. Ajax was floored that you valued your friendship with him so much you would make him promise something he would never give up.

     Time had passed and you noticed yourselves slowly drifting apart. It went from calling each other less, to only texting, then to texting less until you guys barely talked. You understood Ajax was busy, but it still stung seeing you what you thought would’ve been your life long friend slowly forget about you. That was until you had received something in the mail with a very familiar name on it. Ajax.

     A small black box containing what looked to be a hand made scrappily hammered ring along with a letter at the bottom landed on your desk in your bedroom, assuming one of your parents must’ve dropped it off in there. All doubts about Ajax in your mind had been eased as you delicately slid the heavy polished ring on your finger. After you did you giggled in excitement as a delicate pink blush found its way to the tops of your cheeks and ears. You had almost forgotten about the note neatly folded, awaiting to be opened and it’s contents to be discovered.

      You gently unfolded the letter, almost scared that you’d rip it. Inside was the most beautifully written borderline love letter you had ever read, it was almost like romantic poetry, and at the very end was a sentence you wanted to burn into your memory ‘remember that promise?’. Your mind was immediately flooded with all the fond memories you had with Ajax, blushing more and more as you uncovered them. By the end of your daydream session butterflies were fluttering around excitedly in your stomach. You didn’t want to be friends with Ajax anymore. You wanted to love him.

     It had been years since you last heard from him. Not a day has gone by that you haven’t worn the ring Ajax had given you so long ago. You moved away from Snezhnaya after you turned eighteen, now residing in Mondstadt whilst you were going to college; you planned to move back after getting your degree but you made some great friends and the carefree culture of the windy city really called to you. Though after one of your parents' health took a turn for the worst you had made quick plans to go visit with your family.

     It had felt like ages since you last stepped foot out into the familiar icy air, looking around to see the sheets of snow and ice covering the ground. Luckily the streets were plowed, which allowed you to maneuver through the city. Your visit has been great since setting foot in your childhood home. You were happy to be home for the time being, happy to relive the nostalgic moments of your younger days. Everything had changed so much since then. You had barely even thought about Snezhnaya or even Ajax for that matter despite wearing his ring every day, wanting to start fresh when you left for college.

      You suddenly realized you had let your head drop accidentally dozing off, jerking yourself out of melancholy memories. You decided it was probably jet lag, but it was far too early to go to sleep so coffee sounded like a good solution. You remembered an old coffee shop you used to study at whilst you were in high school, that was conveniently within walking distance to your house. With a quick five minute walk to the outdoor shops that littered the local streets you lived by, you located the coffee shop taking a minute to stare at the outside. It hadn’t changed at all.

     Smiling to yourself you walked in and politely ordered a coffee before sitting down at a high table by the window. The stand for the table had a heater built in, keeping you warm as you looked out the thin glass shielding you from the icy winds. You took in the old streets, smiling as you once again lost yourself in the nostalgia of everything. You hadn’t noticed a strikingly tall ginger walk into the shop, and you also hadn’t noticed the considerably loud gasp and call of your name. You only noticed the man's presence when he tapped on your table, causing you to jolt and promptly turn in his directly. It took you a minute to realize who you were staring at.

     “(Y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?” Ajax. There he stood, at the side of you bent over at the hips slightly so he wasn’t completely towering over you. Ajax didn’t want to see you here. He didn’t want to see you at all. You were still fresh in his mind just like you were the last day he had seen you. He missed you. His eyes fell to your hand where he saw the ring he had made and sent to you still on your finger after all these years.

     Your face was almost unrecognizable after all the time that passed, you had grown so much since then. Something unsettled Ajax about your demeanor, you were like an open book to him when you guys were younger as you wore your heart on your sleeve. Looking at you now though, there was no glimpse at the emotions you were feeling in this moment. Were you happy to see him again, since you wore his ring? Were you upset with him breaking his promise? Ajax couldn’t tell as you stared blankly at him for what seemed like ages, giving it enough time to make the air solidify and turn stale and uncomfortable. You finally shook yourself out of this trance you were in, as you suddenly stood up.

     “Wha- Hey, wait a minute (y/n)! What are you doing here?” You didn’t acknowledge Ajax’s voice, subliminally yearning to fall into his strong arms. You were upset. How dare he ask you what you’re doing here. You weren’t the one who had completely abandoned everyone in your life for some sketchy job. You grabbed your coffee before swiftly beginning to exit. Something in Ajax was different. He didn’t really take kindly to you ignoring him, as you felt a vice like grip grab onto your wrist, causing you to flinch and whip around to angrily rip your arm out of his grasp.

     “Don’t touch me Ajax! How dare you have the audacity to ask me what I’m doing here! This was my home! I didn’t abandon everyone I knew and loved on some sketchy ass whim!” Ajax stared at you. Were you joking?! Some ‘sketchy ass whim’?! You supported him when he first told you!

     “What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?!” Your eyes narrowed as you grit your teeth, you grip on your coffee tightening. Without even thinking you threw it in his face.

     “What’s wrong with me?! You’re so fucked up Ajax! We were best friends and then you completely vanish from reality! You promised me we would stay close!” Now it was time for Ajax to grit his teeth. So you were upset with him about that.

     “(Y/n) that was years ago!! We grew up! That was just a stupid childish promise!” As soon as those words left Ajax’s mouth, he went silent as his eyes widened in horror at his on voice. The entire coffee shop was silent as they all watched your argument break out. Ajax didn’t mean to say that, he knew he had fucked up his promise with you and he hated himself for it; he just didn’t know how to explain what he was doing without scaring you off or pushing you away. Turns out he was already doing that by vanishing. He wanted you to forget about him, he knew that when he took the job to join the Fatui and serve the Tsaritsa he would never be able to give you what you deserved. A normal and happy relationship. Ajax was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a sniff and realized you were beginning to cry.

     “Ah… So that’s what it was. Just a way to get me to get off your back. I suppose the ring served the same purpose? Whatever Ajax, you’ve changed and I don’t ever wanna see you again.” You quickly ripped the ring off before throwing it in the trash as you stormed out, trying not to audibly cry, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough in that shop. Ajax stood statuesque still. Holy shit he had made everything so much worse. He sighed before snapping out of his position to grab some napkins, to hopefully dry himself off before venturing back outside. He had to fix this.

     It had been a couple days since your argument with Ajax and you were in shambles. This could not have come at a worse time. You were just happy that this Gods awful trip was coming to an end soon. You sighed as you flipped onto your back in your childhood bedroom, trying to reminisce on the old memories you had here, but all of them had gotten tainted by Ajax. He had ruined everything for you. You regretted everything with him, with getting so close to him. Tears had started to well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away before they had gotten the chance to fall. You hadn’t noticed before, but there was this weird tapping sound coming from your window; which caused you to anxiously investigate. You pulled your curtains back to be greeted with Ajax, who looked at you sheepishly. You blankly stared at him for a moment before closing the curtains and going back to lay on your bed, trying your hardest to ignore Ajax’s protests and calls of your name. After a while everything had gone silent, until your door opened and Ajax emerged one again.

     “Uh… I’m sorry about coming into your room uninvited but one of your parents called me inside and said I could just come in. In hindsight I probably should’ve knocked before coming in and-”

     “What the hell do you want Ajax.” You cut off the young man's babbling without looking at him, you were on your side laying down on your bed with your back facing him.

     “I wanted to make everything up to you. I want to explain everything and I want to tell you about my job finally.” Ajax was hopeful that you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself.

     “No. Now get out of my house.” Ajax’s heart sunk. No… No no no you had to let him explain himself, he needed to explain. He needed you.

     “Please (y/n) I know you don’t owe me anything, not even your time, but please I owe you this.” You sighed, before slowly sitting up and facing him finally. You stared at him for a moment before speaking.

     “Fine. But you have two minutes, so you better speak quickly.” Ajax’s heart fluttered. He spent those two minutes exactly, explaining everything that happened. You were silent for the most part, staring at your hand and you fiddled with your fingers. Ajax waited anxiously for your response. When you didn’t give him anything he took this as a sign to move onto faze two of his apology. For the last couple of days he had been running all over Snezhnaya spending preposterous amounts of mora. He had presented you with flowers and food; but above all he presented you with a ring.

     “That is one promise that I am going to keep true. Please (y/n) forgive me and make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” You stared at him with large eyes and Ajax took a hold of one of your hands and gently slid the beautiful ring onto your ring finger. Tears once again began to well up in your eyes, and suddenly your arms were wrapped around his torso as you cried into his chest. You missed this. He still felt the same way he did when you hugged him last, he even smelled the same.

     “Is that… A yes?” You nodded furiously, face still buried deep in his chest. You were willing to forgive him, but above all, you were willing to love him again.

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Okay, so I did a thing. This is for @charincharge​ who made me think this was a good idea and @wordsxstars​ who convinced me to post it anyways when I reconsidered. XD I hope y’all enjoy. 

CW- An inaccurate portrayal of modern cowboys. They ain’t shit y'all. XD 

The smell of hay and top soil fills the arena and Aelin can feel the anticipation of the crowd rushing through her.

So far, Bulls Night Out had been more epic than she was expecting. When Aedion had showed up at her apartment and presented her with the tickets, she wasn’t impressed. A night in a building filled with dirt, watching men attempt questionable things with animals wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.

Yet, with every near-fatal miss and the difference between victory and failure lying in the milliseconds between competitors- Aelin found she was quickly becoming invested in the bizarre sport.

Lorcan Salvaterre was the name highlighted at the top of the leader board with an impressive nine-point-one second ride. A lot of the men, she noticed, didn’t even make the minimum eight seconds before flying off their bull.

Aelin had watched in morbid fascination as a rider named Vaughn was tossed and narrowly escaped death. A hoof missing his head by a hair. His buddies had helped pull him back over the fence just as a gate at the far end of the arena opened. She watched as two men on horses roped the angry steer and guided it back towards the stalls.

When Vaughn saw the timer which now reads N/A he took off his hat and threw it on the ground, yanking on the ends of his dark hair. A couple of hands reached around to pat his shoulder consolingly.

Aelin’s attention was pulled away as Aedion squeezed his massive thighs through the tiny, crowded stadium seating. A cherry frosty in one hand and the funnel cake she requested in the other.

He set the dessert of fried batter and powdered sugar in her lap, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Whether it was from the sight of something so greasy, or the pure joy of the carnival snack she didn’t know.

“It’s about time,” she goads Aedion through a mouthful of dough. The sugar already coating her fingers and a layer of it dirtying her jeans. It was a mess, but so good.

Aedion’s eyes narrow at her as he sips his frosty, “It’s a mad house down there. All of the lines are like a mile long and I’m pretty sure a clown tried to grab my ass.” He snags a bite of her funnel cake and shoves it in his mouth. “I hope your snack was worth it.”

“Keeping me happy is worth it,” she smacks his wrist when his fingers try to swipe another bite.

The crowd roars and Aelin looks back down to see a rider running back towards the fence, a glinting smile on his face. On the big screen, they replay his ride and clock him at nine-seconds even, placing him in second place.

Aedion whistles appreciatively at the footage and Aelin claps when a Fenrys Moonbeam is placed just below Lorcan on the leader board.

“Damn, he’s attractive.” Aedion comments, and Aelin nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical about this-“ they watch as another rider is helped onto a bull and they await the go, “but this is way more fun then I thought it was going to be.”

“It helps that all of these people are fine,” he laughs. Aedion pulls out his phone, and videos the next ride. It only lasts five seconds, but makes an excellent boomerang that he swiftly posts to his story. Followed by a selfie of them and their snacks.

Lysandra would be so mad she bailed.

“Shit,” Aedion swears as he drops his frosty and the red ice bursts across the front on his shirt. “Shit. I forgot napkins.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aelin assures, but as she battles her way through the crowd and bumps various limbs against other peoples body parts, she regrets her chivalry.

It takes five minutes alone just to get to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling herself free from the throngs of people, Aelin leans against the bars looking down, directly into the arena. She needed a moment of fresh air, not surrounded by dozens of sweaty people. Aedion could wait an extra damn minute.

But, as she peels her eyes open, they nearly bug out of her head. Directly below her she can see right into the shoot, and the bull rider who was being set up for his next ride.

His eyes are the same pine green as the forests of her homeland, and she can see the white hair coiled into a bun right before his buddy slaps a hat on his head.

He was beautiful. A work of masculine art. Muscles for days and Aelin swore she could gut glass against his cheekbones. Aedion’s napkins are long forgotten as she stares at the man situating himself onto the fidgeting bull.

Rowan Whitethorn- the name is plastered on the big screen alongside his previous states and homeland. He’s from Wendlyn, her mother’s country of origin.

When Aelin looks back down, she startled. His face is locked on hers, green eyes piercing her skin with its inquisitiveness. He’s close enough she can see his pail eyelashes droop, apparently satisfied by what he sees. Aelin forces her expression to stay neutral as his yes flitter back up her face to meet her own gaze.

Their eyes lock, neither of them blink. Aelin can feel the temperature of the building rise by several degrees and she bites her lip.

A man slaps Rowan’s shoulder, telling him the count down has started. He barely pays the person any mind though as the seconds before his ride dwindle down. Just before the horn blows, he winks at her.

Aelin’s whole face burns as the gate is released and Rowan is out of the shoot like a rocket. Her heart is thumping in her chest like a base drum and she’s about ready to lay on the floor and die.

That man. She caught that beautiful man’s attention and got into a veritable starting contest with him like a five year-old. Her horror is only exacerbated when she realizes her hands are still coated in powdered sugar and it was probably on her face as well.

So much for her image as smoldering, goddess.

A roar from the crowd rises like never before. The men above the shoots near her have their hats off and are cheering at the top of their lungs. People are stomping, clapping. Something big just happened.

A replay of Rowan’d ride is playing across several different screens. Below his name, is his time.

Twelve seconds.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands are gripping the rails near her face, and a heavily muscled body is pulling itself up and over the edge.

Aelin staggers back as Rowan drops onto the floor in front of her. His eyes are lit with adrenalin and sweat beads his brow, but despite the whirlwind he’d just gone through he looked strangely serene.

He marches in front of her grabs a paper from inside his pocket. It’s a crumpled paper with a bold number on one side and on the back is his name and information.

Information like his phone number.

Her mouth goes dry as he presses it into her hand. Rowan gives her a smile that sends a tingle down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

“You are good luck, doll. You should give me a call sometime.”

Aelin’s bravado catches up with her and she places a hand on her hip, meeting his gaze full on. “If I’m such good luck then you would take me out for a drink. Tonight.”

Pulling the hat from his head, Rowan combs a hand through the loose strands of silver hair cascading around his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll be in row ten, seat seven. When you are done.” She pushes the piece of paper back at hum and nods to where Aedion is sitting. He’s be pissed when he realized she would be ditching him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” his eyes rake over her one more time before walking away to join his jovial friends.

They clap his shoulders, he’s so tall some of them have to jump to rustle the top of his head. All of them enthused over his almost assured win, before they sweep him away and he disappears into the crowd, he looks back at her one more time.

An hour, she mouthes to him.

A half-grin graces his face and he tilts his chin as Aelin makes her way back to Aedion.

Yeah, the rodeo was definitely more exciting then she was expecting.