#I don’t think anyone would have got rid of all of their bracelets but I needed to give the option | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xtaketwox · 3 months

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Fates Intertwined

Summary: Sometimes life is incredibly unfair. Other times, you realize that fate really does exist.

Rated: E

Word Count: 7344

Read on AO3

Special thanks to @itsthedoodle for beta reading!

@elucienweekofficial

Ten Years Ago

“Elain, we have to go.”

Graysen let out an exasperated sigh as Elain frantically felt around the bottom of the lake with her feet, ignoring her boyfriend’s impatience as she held her nose and dove under the water, feeling around for any sign of the bracelet.

She gasped, nearly inhaling water, when Graysen grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up.

“Elain,” he said, a frown on his face, “it’s gone. You probably lost it while we were on the boat. I have football practice tomorrow. If we don’t leave now, I won’t get enough sleep and then coach will be all over my ass.”

Elain’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded, accepting the bitter reality of having lost the only momento she had from her mother. Everything else valuable had been sold to make ends meet.

This whole trip to the lake had been a disaster. First it stormed on their way there and they very narrowly escaped an accident on the freeway. Then when they finally arrived at Graysen’s family cabin, the electricity was off, making the whole house muggy and boiling hot. When it finally did come back on, Elain got achy from the ice cold air flowing out of the window unit a/c. Since Graysen was treating her to a weekend away, she had tried to hide how miserable she was, but losing her mother’s bracelet was the final straw in this horrible weekend.

She bit her lip and pulled her arm from Graysen’s grasp as she trudged out of the water, not caring that the sandy mud stuck to her feet as she walked back toward the house.

Tears slid silently down her cheeks as she came to terms with the fact that the last piece of her mother was gone forever.

*****

6 years ago

Lucien sat on the lakeshore, arms wrapped around his knees as tears dripped down his face. It was the second anniversary of Jesminda’s death, and he wondered if a day would come when thinking about her didn’t send a stab of pain straight through his heart.

He knew his phone was probably blowing up since he had put it on airplane mode three days ago, but he couldn’t deal with anyone telling him they were sorry, or asking him what they could do for him, or telling him it’ll get better with time. He didn’t want it to get better with time. Sometimes it felt as if his grief was all he had left of Jesminda, and he didn’t want it to go away.

So Lucien sat, watching the sun dip lower toward the horizon as tears streamed down his face.

He blinked when something glinted in his eye from near the waterline. Ignoring it, he turned his gaze back to the lake.

A breeze whispered past him, and the hair on his arms stood on end. He shivered and looked back to the waterline as something glittered again. He slowly stood and walked over, his heart beating strangely in his chest as he neared the water.

Wiping his eyes with his arm, he squatted down to peer down at the bit of gold sticking out. He brushed aside the sandy mud as the water gently lapped at his feet.

It was a bracelet.

Lucien picked it up, swiping it through the water to clear away the mud. There was nothing particularly special about it, aside from the fact it was gold. He turned it over and saw an engraving.

To the love of my life

Something tingled down Lucien’s spine at the words. Had the bracelet come from Jesminda?

He immediately scoffed at the idea, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the bracelet. He sat down, not caring that his pants were now getting wet and muddy, turning the bracelet over and over, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

The engraving meant this must have been special to someone. Unless perhaps they had thrown it in the lake to get rid of it.

He stared at the scrawling letters. He didn’t think so. He didn’t know why, but he knew that this had been precious to someone. If only there was a way to return it.

Maybe it really was a sign from Jesminda.

Maybe it was her last goodbye.

*****

Today

“How are you holding up?”

Elain lifted her shot and threw it back, wincing at the burn. She hated alcohol, but today seemed like a good day to get drunk. She lifted the empty shot glass toward Feyre.

“To Graysen.”

Feyre sighed, sitting next to Elain as she held up a hand to the bartender. When her shot glass was refilled, she tossed it back again. It was disgusting. How did people drink this for fun?

Feyre grabbed her wrist when she started to signal for a third shot. “Slow down. You’ll end up throwing it all up if you don’t.”

Elain wrenched her wrist away and turned around. “You’re no fun.” She stood, grabbing the bar when her vision temporarily blacked out. She couldn’t be drunk already.

When her vision cleared, she started walking toward the dance floor. She felt as if she were floating in a dream, but wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the shock of finding out Greyson had gotten married to the woman he had cheated with today.

“Elain—”

Elain waved off her sister. “I’m fine, Feyre. I just want to dance.”

Elain didn’t know how to dance.

Well. Not unless it was a waltz or one of the other dances her mother had insisted they learn when she was alive. Her mother had been convinced it was imperative for her daughters to know how to waltz, as if it were still the middle of the 1800s.

But all you had to do was sway to the beat. Elain tripped to the center of the dance floor, closed her eyes, and started moving. On any normal day, she would never do such a thing. The idea that people could see her and judge her dancing was enough to keep her safely on the fringes of any club, but today she didn’t care what anyone thought.

That could be the alcohol talking though.

The song was mostly just a repetitive beat. Elain tried to think of what it was called. EDM maybe. She laughed as she realized she was standing with her eyes closed at the center of the dance floor and instead of dancing to the beat, she was contemplating what style of music this was. Greyson would have teased her about it.

A stab went through her heart at the reminder that it didn’t matter what Greyson would have thought. He had left her two months ago, claiming he had fallen in love. He had kicked her out of their shared apartment, giving her a single day to find somewhere else to live. Thankfully, Feyre’s husband, Rhysand was filthy rich and so they had rooms to spare. Nesta, ever the lawyer, had tried to convince Elain to take legal action, since her name was still on the lease, but Elain had been too heartbroken to bother.

Now she kind of wished she had, but it was too late. She was alone and Graysen was married after telling her he wasn’t the marrying sort.

She had been so stupid.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she forced them down and focused on feeling the music instead.

Time blurred as one song bled into the next. A voice in the back of her head told her she was going to regret her shoe choice in the morning, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.

A slow song started, pulling Elain out of her thoughts. She blinked, coming out of her head as she looked around and saw couples pairing up. With a pang, she turned to leave and ran straight into a broad chest.

When she looked up, her heart skipped a beat.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled. This was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His hair was coppery and long, his eyes a gorgeous shade of brown, and the smirk on his face should be illegal. Her gaze dropped to the broad chest in front of her, taking in what looked like a swimmer’s body with broad shoulders and a tapered waist.

It didn’t even register that she had cursed out loud until the man chuckled and took a step back. Heat rose to her face. It must be the residual effects of the two shots she had drank earlier because she never swore, at least not out loud.

“Sorry,” Elain mumbled, looking down.

A finger slid under her chin, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. “I should be the one apologizing for not giving you space.”

Elain could only blink up at this man, rendered mute by his smirk. He was tall. Very tall. And very, very gorgeous.

He smirked again and dropped his finger to hold out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

Only then did Elain remember they were in the middle of a dance floor. She nearly said no, feeling suddenly conspicuous, but then remembered where being compliant and safe had gotten her and instead took his hand, nodding.

He twisted her hand so he was holding it firmly in his, sliding his other hand to her lower back as Elain placed her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m Lucien,” he said, his breath whispering across her face. He smelled like expensive sandalwood cologne and mint toothpaste. “What’s yours?”

“Elain,” she said, wincing when her voice came out breathy. She cleared her throat and looked down.

“Tell me, Elain, why were you dancing all alone for two hours?”

Elain snapped her head up. “What?”

A corner of Lucien’s mouth tilted up, his eyes glittering with amusement. “I would apologize for watching you dance, but you were such a delight that I can’t find it in myself to feel shame.”

“I…what?” Heat rose on Elain’s face, flustered by the intense look in Lucien’s eyes. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention. Once upon a time she had been one of the popular girls at school, but after her mother’s death and her family’s subsequent fall into hard times, she had become more withdrawn. At times she had wondered if Graysen even noticed she was there. She had often told herself she liked it that way, had liked not being the center of attention, but the way Lucien’s stare made her heart flutter was making her rethink that stance.

Lucien smiled fully and Elain felt her breath catch. “I apologize if I’m coming on too strong,” he said. “I have to admit it’s been a very long time since I’ve dated and I’m a little bit rusty.”

“Oh?” Elain could keep the surprise from her tone. With a man as gorgeous as Lucien, she had expected him to be a player.

Lucien’s smile dimmed a bit as he said, “I lost someone very dear to me and it’s taken a long time to even think about dating again.”

A pang went through Elain’s chest. “I’m so sorry.” She lowered her eyes to his chest as she continued. “I lost my mother over a decade ago and my father passed just last fall. I would like to say the pain diminishes over time, but I haven’t found that to be the case.”

When Lucien didn’t respond, Elain looked up. He peered down at her with a frown, confusion in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Elain said in a rush. “I didn’t mean to make it all about me.”

Lucien shook his head. “No. I appreciate you telling me. You’re just the first person who hasn’t told me it’ll get better with time.”

Elain nodded. “Yes, well, in my experience, the only people who say that are people who haven’t lost someone close to them.” She gently squeezed his hand. “But if it helps, the amount of space that pain takes up in your life does grow smaller as time goes on. The pain will never go away, but the amount of time you spend dwelling on it decreases.”

The song ended and the DJ switched back to EDM. Elain stepped back, but Lucien held her hand, preventing her from pulling away.

“I know we just met,” he said, looking between her eyes, “but would you want to go somewhere quieter?”

A tingle went down her spine, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. It was supremely stupid to go somewhere with a strange man when she didn’t know anything about him, but something told Elain this wasn’t your average chance meeting, that there was something special about Lucien.

She swallowed and nodded. “Let me just tell my sister.” She bit her lip. “And if you could leave your name and phone number with her, I would appreciate it.”

Lucien nodded, “Of course.”

Elain looked around until she spotted Feyre sitting in a corner, her travel water color set on the table in front of her. Elain smiled as she walked over. Leave it to Feyre to spend her night at a club painting. She looked up as Elain approached, surprise lighting up her eyes as she saw Lucien walking half a step behind Elain.

“Lucien?”

Elain turned, raising her eyebrows as shock registered on Lucien’s face. “Feyre?”

Feyre stood and walked over, giving Lucien a quick hug in greeting.

“You two know each other?” Elain ask, looking between them.

Feyre smiled, though there was bitterness at the edge of her eyes. “I met Lucien through Tamlin.”

Elain could only blink as she looked back at Lucien, reassessing whether she wanted to spend the evening with him. If he were friends with Tamlin, that definitely changed things.

“Yes well, I haven’t spoken with Tamlin for years. Not since I refused to tell him where you went.”

Feyre’s now-husband, Rhysand, had helped Feyre finally get free from Tamlin several years ago after he had destroyed her art studio in a fit of rage.

Feyre’s eyes softened as she smiled. “I never did thank you for that.”

Lucien shrugged. “Friendship only extends so far, and I’m sorry to say I ignored too many red flags with Tamlin. If anything, I should apologize for not helping you sooner.”

Feyre grabbed Lucien’s hand and squeezed it. “But you helped when it mattered most.”

She let go of Lucien’s hand and looked over at Elain. “Do you two know each other?”

Elain shook her head, glancing at Lucien and now feeling the creep of embarrassment. “No, we met on the dance floor.” She cleared her throat. “We are leaving. I just wanted to tell you and have Lucien give you his name and phone number.”

Feyre’s eyebrows rose as she glanced between them both. “I see.”

Lucien tapped at his phone. “Is your number still the same?”

Feyre shook her head. “No I changed it.”

Elain looked away as Lucien and Feyre exchanged numbers, her face growing hotter by the moment. The two shots had worn off and her common sense had returned. It was one thing to do something stupid with a stranger, but knowing Lucien was an acquaintance somehow made it feel even stupider. What if Feyre judged her for wanting to leave with Lucien?

When they were finished, Feyre turned, giving Elain a hug. “I can see the doubt on your face. I’m fine with it. Lucien’s a good guy, but if you want to back out, I can say it makes me uncomfortable.”

Elain squeezed her sister as relief flooded through her. She did still feel a bit unsure, but not about Lucien. Only about doing something so out of character. “My only worry was that you would mind.”

Feyre pulled away and said soft enough to avoid Lucien hearing, “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

Elain nodded. Feyre smiled. “That settles it then.” She turned to Lucien, placing Elain’s hand in his. “I expect you to show her a good time, Lucien.”

“Feyre!” Mortification hit Elain like a truck, her eyes widening at her sister’s statement.

Lucien laughed, squeezing Elain’s hand as he responded. “If I return her in a state less than perfect bliss, you have my permission to sic Rhysand and his minions on me.”

Feyre winked at Elain, speaking to Lucien. “I’ll hold you to that, Vanserra.” She made a shooing motion. “Now go on. The night is dwindling.”

Lucien bowed slightly, “If you insist.” He turned to Elain with a smile. “Shall we?”

Elain nodded, pressing a hand to her hot cheeks as Lucien pulled her behind him through the crowd. It was a relief when the cool night air hit Elain’s cheeks. Lucien gave his ticket to the valet and stood to the side, pulling Elain with him.

Elain couldn’t look at him, still mortified by Feyre’s brazen statement. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t hoped this would ultimately lead to sex, but to say it so boldly…

“I hope you know, there’s no pressure to do anything tonight.”

Elain glanced over at Lucien, who was peering down at her with a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“It was just a joke,” he went on. “I didn’t ask you to come with me because I expect anything from you.”

The knot in Elain’s chest eased at his statement and she nodded. She cleared her throat, determined to be brave. “I-I was just taken aback.” She forced herself to hold eye contact as she continued, “But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for sex tonight.”

Lucien’s eyes widened slightly, his lips lightly parting as he sucked in a breath. He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand, sending a burst of awareness up her arm. “So long as you’re sure,” he murmured, his voice hardly loud enough for her to hear.

Elain’s eyes dropped to Lucien’s lips as she nodded. “I’m sure.”

Lucien’s throat bobbed as he nodded and turned to look toward the street. Elain also turned to wait for Lucien’s car. She smiled at how tense he was, feeling a surge of something new, perhaps pride, at rendering him speechless.

When the valet arrived with Lucien’s car, Elain’s eyes widened. “You drive a Porsche?”

Lucien tipped the valet and then held open the car door, shrugging. “Sometimes.”

Elain blinked at that as she sat in the car. Lucien shut the door and jogged to the other side. When he was inside, she asked, “How many cars do you own?”

Lucien laughed lightly. “Too many for one person.” He glanced at her before pulling into traffic. The car moved like a dream. “I’m hardly a car collector, but three cars is still too many for one person.”

“Which others do you have?”

Elain was relieved to have a safe topic to gather her wits after so frankly admitting to what she wanted. She had never done that with Graysen. He had said he wanted her to be open about what she wanted, but the truth was she didn’t like speaking about it. It had always felt unladylike with Graysen.

She wasn’t exactly a mouse in bed, she knew how to have a good time, but voicing her likes and dislikes had always felt too risky. What if Graysen had judged her. She firmly ignored the voice in her head that tried to say that that might have been the reason for Graysen’s cheating. She simply refused to take the blame for that.

And maybe in the end, Graysen had been right. She should ask for what she wanted. She was an adult, and even if her only experience came from Graysen, it wasn’t like she was didn’t know what she wanted.

The drive went faster than she expected, the conversation flowing easily from one topic to the next. She was surprised when Lucien pulled into a parking garage attached to one of the most exclusive apartment buildings in the city. Only the wealthiest people lived here.

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised if Lucien had been friends with Tamlin. That man may have been an idiot but he had been a rich idiot.

Elain unbuckled her seatbelt and was surprised when the door opened and Lucien’s hand was there for her to grasp as she stood. “Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. She squeezed his hand when he made to let go, liking the warm feeling traveling up her arm at the contact.

Now that they were here, and had been able to talk without awkwardness, Elain felt her hesitation melt away. Something about this felt right.

Lucien smiled down at her and then turned to walk to an elevator at the end of the garage. Once inside, he used a key to press the button for one of the middle floors. Her surprise must have shown on her face because he chuckled. “I’m rich enough for the building, but not for the top floor penthouse.”

Elain rolled her eyes at his wink, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Well, then we may have to rethink the whole thing. Here I was thinking you were filthy rich.”

Lucien’s eyes dropped to her lips and Elain’s stomach flipped. “Oh, I think I’m probably rich enough.”

Elain bit her lip and Lucien swallowed. They both jumped when the elevator pinged and the doors opened into a foyer. Lucien strode out of the elevator, pulling Elain along behind him. He stopped abruptly by the couch in the living room and turned toward Elain. She couldn’t help her smile at how flustered he looked.

He cleared his throat. “Would you like a drink?”

Elain shook her head, her heart pounding as she looked Lucien in the eyes and said, “I want to have sex.”

As if her words had snapped the tether holding him back, Lucien tugged her forward, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

A burst of awareness hit Elain as soon as Lucien’s lips touched hers, igniting a fire inside as she wound her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes. Lucien’s tongue swept into her mouth, his other hand traveling down her waist to cup her bottom. Elain couldn’t stop the light moan as he gently squeezed.

She wound her fingers into his hair, scraping her nails down his scalp. Lucien moved his other hand down to her other side and lifted. Elain wound her arms around his neck, gasping lightly as she brushed against the bulge in his pants. Lucien turned and started walking. Elain brushed against him again, gasping at how sensitive she was. She grasped his hair hard, rolling her hips and moaning into his mouth.

Lucien spun abruptly, pressing her back against a wall as he moaned into her mouth. When she rolled her hips again, he squeezed her ass and wrenched his mouth free.

“If you keep doing that, then this will be over very fast,” Lucien said, his breath sawing in and out.

Elain bit her lip as she stared into his eyes and rolled her hips again. Something mischievous glinted in Lucien’s eye as he grabbed her legs and unwound them from his waist, waiting for Elain’s feet to hit the floor before he whispered in her ear, “Misbehavior will be punished.” He brushed a finger down her side and back up, before reaching behind to grasp the zipper to her dress and pull it down. “I am going to enjoy the taste of you.”

Elain shivered as the chill air hit her skin. She closed her eyes, hands grasping at nothing against the wall. Lucien pressed a kiss just below her ear, then her neck, sucking lighting as he slowly pulled her dress down until it fell to the floor, leaving her in her bra, underwear, and heels.

He sank to his knees, kissing her belly as he traced a finger around the edge of her underwear, hooking his thumbs inside and pulling down. Elain stepped out of the underwear and dress, both of which Lucien tossed to the side before spreading her legs. He sucked in a breath when he ran his finger through her and found her dripping wet, looking up at her as he licked his fingers.

Elain bit her lip against a moan when he held her eyes and lowered his head toward her clit. She closed her eyes, her head falling back against the wall when he licked once before sucking her clit into his mouth. Her knees felt weak.

Graysen had almost never done this, saying oral grossed him out, although he never seemed to have a problem asking her for a blow job. Lucien, however, was acting like sucking on her clit was his favorite activity. He moaned against her, heightening her already soaring pleasure. Her nails scratched against the wall as she scrabbled for something, anything to hold on to.

She pressed the heel of her palm against her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds coming out of her mouth, but she snapped her eyes open when Lucien pulled away, his hand closing around her wrist.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice low, a pleading quality to it.

Elain felt herself flush, but nodded, her stomach flipping at Lucien’s smile. He placed her hand on her breast before letting go of her wrist.

“Hang on,” he said, his eyes smoldering into hers as he lowered his head once again.

Elain gasped and squeezed her breast when Lucien once again swirled his tongue around her clit. Surprised by how good it felt, she brought her second hand up to squeeze her other breast as well, her legs going weak again as Lucien showed her no mercy, sucking and licking with abandon. His hands traveled up and down her calves and the backs of her thighs, his thumbs teasing her every time he reached the top.

Elain’s body grew more and more tense as Lucien’s tongue worked it’s magic. She had never felt like this, had never had an orgasm build this intensely without breaking. She didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted, couldn’t seem to form the words to tell Lucien she needed him inside her. All she could do was roll her hips.

Lucien seemed to understand what she was asking, his finger circling her entrance, moaning at finding her so pliant. He moaned again when he thrust a finger inside and Elain broke, screaming as she came. Lucien caught her as her legs gave out and she slid against the wall.

He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, standing and cradling her to his chest as Elain melted against him, still twitching as aftershocks hit her. She had never come that hard before, not even when she gave herself an orgasm.

Lucien strode to the bedroom and set her down on the bed, planking above her and brushing away a strand of hair as he looked between her eyes. “Okay?”

Elain bit her lip against a smile and nodded. “Better than okay.”

Lucien smiled and then lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping back inside as he lazily kissed her, over and over. Elain scratched her nails through his hair, grasping lightly at the hair on the base of his neck as Lucien continued lazy assault on her mouth.

Elain loved kissing. It had always been her favorite part about sex because it was the only time Graysen would spend any amount of time kissing her. She loved the intimacy involved with kissing, the way it could be both sexy and sweet. Graysen had always claimed it wound him up so much, so she knew that kissing him meant they would have sex. And she had thought she didn’t mind, but now thinking back, she wished she had voiced her feelings more, had told Graysen she didn’t always want to have sex when she kissed.

Something must have changed in her energy, because Lucien pulled back, concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

Elain closed her eyes a moment, shaking her head to clear away the residual thoughts of Graysen. She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m wonderful.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Are you having second thoughts? Because it’s fine if you are.”

Elain shook her head. “Not at all.”

Lucien looked at her a moment longer and then sat back on his knees. “Something feels off. I mean it. We can stop now. I won’t be angry if you aren’t feeling it.”

Elain cringed, shaking her head. “That is definitely not it. I am very much feeling it.” She rubbed her forehead, hoping she didn’t completely ruin her chances with Lucien when she made her next statement. “I just…was thinking of how different you are to my ex.”

Lucien blinked at her a moment. Elain grasped his wrist in an attempt to stop him from leaving even though he was frozen. “I mean that in the best way possible.” Her desperation to make him understand so that he didn’t pull away completely overrode any anxiety she might have felt over being so open. “You’ve made me realize how little he ever gave me, how I shouldn’t have accepted it.”

Lucien frowned down at her. “What do you mean?”

Elain swallowed, tracing her thumb back and forth across Lucien’s wrist. “He never—that is he rarely—he didn’t like—” Elain closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to compose herself. “He never liked oral sex.” She opened her eyes. “Or kissing.” She sighed. “Or more exactly, kissing that didn’t immediately lead to sex. But you…” She didn’t try to stop her smile as she said, “You kiss like you enjoy it.” She looked down, flushing more as she added, “Enjoy me.”

After several silent moments, she looked up to see Lucien frowning down at her. She opened her mouth to say…something, but before she could Lucien said, “Your ex sounds like an asshole.”

Elain laughed. “He definitely was. I just wish I had realized it before he cheated on me.”

Lucien’s eyes bugged out. “He cheated. On you?” He shook his head, and Elain’s chest warmed at the look of utter disbelief and rage on Lucien’s face. “So he’s a moron and an asshole.”

Lucien glared down at her, though his eyes were distant, as though it weren’t her he was glaring at. Before she had time to process it, Lucien leaned forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. He peppered kisses along her jaw, sucking her earlobe into his mouth for a moment before he said, low in her ear, “We will not be having sex tonight unless or until you beg me. I want to hear every noise you make. I want to hear you scream. And if what I do doesn’t make you scream, I want you to tell me what I’m doing wrong. Because if the hall is any indication, there is a hellcat trapped inside of you, and she deserves to be free. Your ex didn’t deserve to lick your shoes, let alone make you feel like you need to hide yourself.” He pulled back to capture her eyes, his fingers tracing along her hairline. “Okay?”

Elain nodded, her heart skipping a beat at the look in Lucien’s eyes. “Okay.”

“I mean it.” Lucien looked between her eyes. “Please tell me what you want.”

“I want you to kiss me,” Elain said, her eyes dropping to his lips. “I want you to kiss me until I can’t breathe.”

Elain had expected Lucien to kiss her fiercely, but instead, he slowly lowered his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. He lifted his head, tilting it before capturing her lips again. Elain wound her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Lucien seemed content to keep kissing her close-mouthed until Elain licked along the seam of his lips. Only then did he sweep his tongue in, and it occurred to Elain that he was making her take the lead. She shoved aside the anxiety that threatened to rear its ugly head, determined to just feel and enjoy without thinking. Lucien had told her he wanted her to let him know what she wanted, so she was going to.

She didn’t know how long they lay kissing, but Lucien did exactly what she had asked: he kissed the breath from her lungs. Eventually, she pulled away, gasping, her whole body on fire. “I need more.”

Lucien kissed along her jaw and down her neck. “Where do you need more?”

Elain grasped his hair when he lightly bit the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “Everywhere.”

Lucien hummed. “You need to be more specific.”

She grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on her breast. “Here. I need you here.” He gently squeezed before pulling the cup of her bra down and wrapping his lips around her nipple. Elain squeezed her hands tightly into his hair, her back arching as he sucked, his other hand pulling down the opposite cup and pinching the nipple.

Elain tried to writhe, but was pleasantly pinned by Lucien’s weight on her. Just when she was about to demand he switch sides, he popped off one breast and moved to suck her other nipple inside his mouth. The cool air hit her wet nipple, sending a shiver up her spine. Lucien pinched her at the same time he sucked her other, sending a burst of awareness straight to her clit. She moaned loudly and Lucien smiled against her.

“Touch me,” she moaned.

“I am touching you.”

Elain laughed at Lucien’s mischievous tone. “I need you to touch my clit.” Her face warmed at being so frank, but all embarrassment was gone the moment Lucien’s finger circled her, moving in time with his tongue on her breast.

Her hips rolled of their own accord as her muscles wound tighter and tighter. She felt empty and scrambled to catch her breath as a second orgasm neared. “I need—I need—” before she could get the words out, the cord tethering her to the world snapped and she was screaming as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her.

Lucien pulled his hand away as he leaned up to kiss her, as if he had read her mind, had known she wanted to be kissed as she came down from such intense pleasure. She moaned into his mouth, squeezing her legs and gasping as his erection pressed against her.

She only realized then that Lucien was still fully clothed. She’d had two orgasms and he hadn’t removed a single article of clothing. She pulled away, breathing heavily as Lucien licked and sucked his way down the column of her throat.

“I need you to take over,” she said, her voice breathy. “I need you inside me.”

“I didn’t hear you,” he said against her neck. “Could you repeat that?”

Before she had time to think it through, Elain grasped Lucien’s hair and pulled him away from her, glaring playfully into his eyes as she said, “I want you to take over and fuck me.”

She bit her lip against her crude language, but Lucien’s eyes sparkled as he smirked at her. “If that’s what you want.”

She nodded. “That’s what I want.”

Before she had time to think, Lucien sat back, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side. He held her gaze as he unbuttoned his pants, climbing off the bed only long enough to shuck off the rest of his clothes in one go before getting back on the bed.

Elain yelped when Lucien flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. She pressed her forehead into the bed, closing her eyes so she could simply feel.

“Hang on.”

Elain fisted the sheets on either side of her head, gasping when Lucien slid inside, her previous orgasms making her body just plaint enough that the stretch pulled a moan out of her as she grasped harder at the sheets.

“Are you ok?” Lucien’s voice was strained, his fingers digging into her hips as he held himself still.

Elain only barely had the wherewithal to nod her head, pushing back in an attempt to chase the friction she needed. Lucien began moving and Elain curled her toes as Lucien set a punishing pace, moaning into the mattress as her already overstimulated body barreled toward a third orgasm.

Time lost all meaning as Elain closed her eyes, her entire focus on the sensation of Lucien inside her. Sex had never been like this, never this good, never this intense, never this long. She certainly had never come more than once. If she had known what her sex life could have been like, perhaps she would have been the one to leave Graysen instead of the other way around.

She opened her eyes as her body tightened, tightened, tightened, threatening to be the hardest orgasm of her life. Her legs began shaking and she wasn’t certain she could have stayed upright if Lucien hadn’t had a death grip on her hips.

“God, Elain—” he choked out.

Her name was a plea on his lips, and the sound of it sent her careening over the edge, her orgasm breaking hard. Her entire body felt electrified, her vision going white as she screamed.

She hardly registered Lucien’s own scream before he fell on top of her, pressing her into the bed. Almost immediately, Lucien rolled to the side, pulling her back against his chest as he gasped for air. Elain could hardly move, her body still twitching in aftershocks as Lucien pressed kisses into her hair, breathing as if he had just run a marathon.

Elain wrapped her hands around the arm banded across her chest, closing her eyes as she tried to remember her name.

They laid there for so long that Elain shivered against the chill air of the apartment. Lucien let go of her just long enough to reach behind him and toss his comforter over both of them.

Elain sighed, snuggling down into the blanket as Lucien ran his hand lightly up and down her side before settling his hand on her hip. Before she could wonder what she should say now, she drifted to sleep.

*****

It took a few moments for Elain to gather her bearings when she woke up. For one terrifying moment, she thought it was Graysen behind her and she tensed, ready to leap from the bed. A moment later, however, the events of the previous evening came back and she relaxed.

Lucien breathed softly, his breath tickling her ear, his hand still resting on her hip. Nature called, so Elain carefully extracted herself from Lucien’s grasp, careful to move slowly so as not to wake him.

She padded softly to the adjoining bathroom. When she was done, she glanced around, noting the expensive stone counter and enormous shower. She tiptoed back into the darkened room and walked softly to the bedroom door in search of her underwear and dress.

Elain was surprised to realize the sun had risen, the light momentarily blinding her as she shut the door. She flushed pleasantly, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth when she spotted her dress crumpled in the hallway, her underwear tossed a few feet away. She slid both back on and then headed toward the kitchen.

She briefly considered simply leaving, but after the night Lucien had given her, she felt the least she could do was make breakfast. She was really more of a baker than a cook, but she could make scrambled eggs and toast well enough.

When she found the ingredients, she began cracking eggs into a bowl. when she turned to search for a skillet, sunlight glinted off of something, nearly blinding her. She closed the cabinet and stood, walking over to see what had caught the light.

The hair on her arms and the back of her neck rose as she peered down at the side table and saw a gold bracelet.

It couldn’t be…

She reached down with shaking hands to pick it up, covering her mouth when she turned it over and saw the inscription on the inside.

To the love of my life

“Good morning.” Lucien smiled as he exited the bedroom. When Elain turned to stare at him with wide eyes, his smile dropped, replaced with a look of concern. “Is something the matter?”

“Where did you get this?” Elain’s voice sounded hollow to her ears.

Lucien walked closer, peering at the bracelet in her hand. “Ah. I found it years ago on a lake shore.” He looked between her and the bracelet. “Why?”

Elain swallowed and then traced the lettering on the inside. “I lost this a decade ago.”

Lucien tensed, looking rapidly between the bracelet and Elain. “What?”

Elain looked up, unable to keep the tears from filling her eyes. “It was my mother’s. It…I lost it while I was swimming in a lake in high school. She—” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “She passed when I was younger and this was the last thing I had that hadn’t been sold to pay bills after her death.” She looked back down at the bracelet. “I never thought I’d see it again.”

When Lucien made no comment, Elain looked back at him, shocked at the haunted look on his face. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before saying, “I went to a lake six years ago on the—” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing, “on the anniversary of my fiance’s death.”

Elain’s heart cracked at the pain on Lucien’s face. He caught her eyes and continued. “I was sitting on the shore and it sparkled in the sun.” He reached out to run a finger along the inscription. “It felt like a message from Jesminda, like I was meant to find it.” It was Lucien’s turn to trace the inscription inside the bracelet. “It felt like her last goodbye to me.”

He pulled his hand back and looked at Elain. There was a ringing in her ears. It seemed crazy to suggest that perhaps they had been fated to meet, but…

She looked back at the bracelet as the odds of meeting the very person who had found her mother’s bracelet clanged around her now empty head.

“Perhaps I was meant to give it back to you,” Lucien said, closing Elain’s fingers around the bracelet.

Elain, the previous evening fresh on her mind, looked up at Lucien, “Or perhaps we were meant to meet. Perhaps—” she opened her hand and looked down.

To the love of my life

It felt too grand to say they were fated to be together, not after just meeting the night before. He would surely think her silly if she said such a thing.

“Perhaps this is the universe telling us something.”

Elain looked up at Lucien, the wonder in his eyes matching the emotion choking her up.

“It does feel a bit like our fates are intertwined,” he went on. He cleared his throat. Elain smiled as his cheeks reddened. “Not to put too fine a point on it.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Elain said.

Lucien’s mouth pulled to the side. “So what does this mean? What do we do now?”

Elain slid the bracelet on her wrist, making a mental note to take it to have it sized smaller, and held out her hand. “Right now, we go eat breakfast.”

Lucien smiled and her heart skipped a beat when he slid his hand into hers and nodded. “Breakfast it is. We can figure out the rest later.”

Elain returned his smile and tugged him back toward the kitchen. “Exactly. We have plenty of time to figure things out, but for now let’s eat.”

#elucienweek2024 #elucien

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Note

For your 2k event 😊 (I'm so happy for you btw! 🥰👏👏)

Fluff #9 - “if you cry, i’ll cry ─ and that won’t be fun for anyone.”

With Tsu'tey x h!Reader maybe 😊

Absolutely no pressure though and again; congratulations on reaching 2k! 😁🎉🎉

SKY-WOMEN LOVE GIFTS

here you go lovely!! i hope you enojy. this was actually my first time writing human!reader so eek. but i liked it. tsu'tey being ooc but y'know him being alive isn't canon lmao

It took Tsu’tey a long time to warm up to the left over scientists of the sky people. Like a seriously long time.

While Jake did help get rid of some of the hostility towards the scientists, it was really you that did the heavy-lifting. A small, fragile weak human in his eyes. On a planet where not even the air serves you. Maybe it was pity that drew him closer towards you, or maybe it was your interesting alien self. Who knows?

Months passed as he got to know you. You would follow him through the forest to study more of the flora, involve yourself with the clan’s cultures and always be there to lend him a listening ear.

He couldn’t deny that his heart grew fond of your company. The way your tiny alien hands would grab onto him when you lost your balance. The way he would have to wait for you to catch up to him every other step. The way you were so committed to loving his home. He found himself constantly thinking about you as a mate.

He wasn’t quite sure how to show his affections towards you. He knew the usually the traditions would not be received as well, as you did not understand them. He didn’t enjoy asking Jake for help, but it was worth it for you.

“What? You want to court Y/N? Didn’t know you were into sky-people brother.” Tsu’tey snarled at him, too serious to be caught up with Jake’s antics.

“I want to court Y/N, I am here for advice not ridicule.” Jake gave him a strong pat on the back followed with a proud smile.

“Sky-women like gifts. All women like gifts! Make her something and I’m 100% sure she’ll treasure it. Especially if it’s from you.” Tsu’tey wondered if something handmade would be up to your culture’s standard, especially considering the odd demon technology your people have built. Would it not be mundane?

He may as well give it a shot. “Thankyou brother.” And he was off, already conjuring ideas in his mind of what to create for you. What would be suitable for someone as tiny as you. He would have to be mindful of the size of his gift. Would you want jewellery? Maybe a knife? No. you don’t need a knife. You would never wear his cultures clothing, too embarrassed because of your culture’s standard.

Maybe a bracelet was the best thing to make. Yes. It’s perfect.

It had been a couple days since you had conversed with Tsu’tey, too busy with your studies and he seemed to be going away to do god knows what. It disheartened you a little, you enjoyed your time with the tall man. Your heart always beat a little faster around him, eyes lingered longer, time felt shorter.

You were standing near some of the plants right outside of the base of the camp the people had set up. You were way too immersed in your instruments, that you didn’t realise the lean man stalking behind you, simply looking down to observe what was interesting you so much.

“That is flefle.” You jumped, grabbing onto your heart as you felt your soul slip you because you were so frightened.

“Oh! Jesus you scared me.” Tsu’tey never really understood your human expressions, but he though you sounded cute saying them at least.

“I have something for you.” You furrowed your brows, confused on what he could possibly give to you. His hands were fidgeting behind his back, nervously rolling onto the balls of his feet and back down again.

“Oh can I see?” Tsu’tey nodded taking one of your small hands in his, delicately placing the bracelet in your palm. You gasped switching your gaze rapidly between Tsu’tey and the beautiful, beaded bracelet that was give to you. The beads had small engravings in them, while they alternated in colours from blue to green. “This is beautiful Tsu’tey!”

“Do you like it?” You nodded swiftly.

“Of course I love it, I might cry it’s so pretty. Thankyou!” Tsu’tey’s face grew concerned as you mentioned crying.

“Do not cry. If you cry, I will cry and that wont be fun for anyone.” You giggled at his words, the way he was so serious was amusing. Stepping forward to give him a thankful hug, your head resting just below his ribs. He stiffened against your touch, hands hovering over you, scared to hug you too tight.

Letting go of him you held the open bracelet in your hands. “Could you tie it up for me?” Tsu’tey nodded his hands careful as his fingers worked swiftly to tie the knot around your wrist.

“It is not too tight?”

“No it is perfect. Thankyou.”

#tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagine #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar oneshot #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey fic #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey fluff #tsu'tey drabble

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maple-writes · 1 year

Text

WHG 20 - Training Pt 1

WHG tag list: @concealeddarkness13 @ratracechronicler @pen-of-roses @grailfish @forthesanityofsome @pied-piper-of-hamlet (let me know if I forgot anyone! and no pressure!)

The bad times are beginning for Asher. Featuring @concealeddarkness13's Chess (sorry for this Chess, hang in there)

TW: mentions of past suicide (brief and more so implied but putting this here just in case)

I woke late the first morning of training, wandering out into the flat long after Ares must have gone off to the training grounds. How long ago would she have left? She didn’t try waiting for me, did she? Hopefully not. She would have been waiting a while. Even having stayed in bed until this late I hadn’t slept, not enough anyway, wandering still half dazed out towards the elevator.

“There you are.”

Cirrus. I turned, blinking, as he leaned against the side of the extravagant doorway between the hall and dining room. He’d gotten rid of the vest, and some of the pearl strings had slipped out of his hair, dangling down his neck instead.

“Took you long enough.” I smiled, hurrying to him and throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. He smelled faintly of perfume and I hardly stifled a laugh. “Have fun?”

“Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes as he hugged me back. “You were passed out when I got here anyway and Ginger said you’d been locked in your room since dinner.” He held me a moment longer before standing back up. “How you doing? Ember told me what happened.” He crossed his arms. “I, I’m really sorry. I should have been there.”

And do what? I wouldn’t have let him take my place even if he fought me for it. “I don’t know.” I sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know what to expect either, what to do. I don’t know if I even have a chance of coming out of this alive.”

He didn’t respond right away, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the wall with me, crossed arm brushing my shoulder. “Yeah.” He mumbled, strange coming from him. “I wish I had something good to say but it’s looking pretty fucked.”

I nodded. Anything he said to try to make this all out as less bad than it was would have just fell hollow anyway. “Part of me wonders if there’s any point to training for this…”

“Why not?”

“What could I learn that’s going to save me?” I turned, looking up to face him. “I don’t think I can learn enough to be a survivalist in one week, and learn how to fight, and maybe make allies at the same time.”

Cirrus pointed at a closed door, the one leading to Ares’ bedroom. “That girl seems to be on your side. Haven’t even gone downstairs and you have at least one ally. She hovered around your room for a while before I mentioned you probably wouldn’t be up for the foreseeable future.” He huffed and tightened his arms crossed across his chest. “She called me a rich motherfucker though, so I don’t know if I like her.”

Of course she would say that. I smiled, laughing a little under my breath. “I mean, Cirrus, look at you.” I grinned up at him. “You fit in a little too well wearing all that.”

“And what about it?” He reached up, fishing out the string of pearls from his hair. Removing the little clip holding it to his roots he draped it around my neck, holding it at the back. “There now you do too.” He grinned, then took it back and slipped it into a pocket. “Maybe I’ll have someone attach a clasp so you can wear it and she can make fun of you in the arena.”

“Yeah and get strangled immediately.”

He shrugged. “Fine, bracelet then.” His smile faded. “I’m really sorry about all this Ash. I’ll be around if you need me.”

“Thanks, Cirrus.” I leaned against him with a long sigh. “I’m glad I at least get to say goodbye.”

His hand closed around mine, tight and reassuring. “Me too.” He took in a quick breath and let go, nudging me toward the elevator. “I shouldn’t keep you longer.”

Right. This would have to start eventually.

The training hall was huge, loud, and full of other tributes who had probably been here all morning. They probably all had a head start on me already because of it. Metal clanged on metal as tributes tested swords and tools against each other under the watch of silent trainers. I swallowed. The air was tense. Tense and uncertain as tributes eyed each other, wary, unsure, scared, and it crawled like mites across my skin as it seeped in slow but gradual. Constant. Inescapable.

I took a long breath, running my hand along the wall by the door. The stonework, stable and inert cooled my fingertips but I couldn’t stand by the wall forever. The hall seemed to go on and on as I wandered down the length. Stations set up for survival, for combat, for physical training. There was no way I could do all of them in a week, not with any kind of mastery. There would be other tributes, there would be others who were already planning to kill me, maybe others who were just trying to find a way not to be killed and probably some who had already given up.

I picked a station at random with ropes and guides on how to tie knots. Maybe it would come in handy, but what if there was no rope? The rope was soft in my hands. How likely would it hold in the arena if it was made of something so pliable? Following along the videos and diagrams though, gave me something to think about besides the horrors approaching.

A few knots figured out, I left the station. Whether I would remember them tomorrow I wasn’t so sure. What would be more valuable in the long run, learning new skills or getting to know who I should look out for? Or would it be better to present myself as a threat? Who was I kidding? I didn’t know the first thing about being a threat.

A flash of green caught my eye. The girl who’d stolen the horse. She stood near the edge of what looked like a sparring ring, watching as two tributes practiced against each other. Up close she was smaller, thinner than she’d seemed the other day.

And there was something, something powerful radiating from her. Hot, dangerous, but dormant. For now. Like the slow rumblings of magma building under the surface before an eruption it lay just under the surface, weak, but building.

Her head turned to me, and a second later she stood before me, bristling and snarling. “Do you have a problem? Why are you staring at me?” My face prickled, burning like I’d leaned too close to a crackling fire.

I stiffened, heart picking up already. “Don’t talk to me that way.” My leg twitched, body telling me to back up, to run, but what would she think of me then? A coward? Easy target?

“You think I’m weak?” She spat, “I could take you down right now!”

I flinched but set my jaw tight. My heart raced and my legs trembled but I couldn’t let her know. “I’m not scared of you.”

She swung, metal fist slamming into the side of my head. I staggered. Blinking my head caught up with what happened and whipped back to glare, anger sparking deep inside my chest.

“Don’t try me!”

She only returned my glare, stalking closer, closer, like I was nothing more than a rabbit trapped with nowhere to run. “Don’t you fucking look down on me! I’m not weak!”

My arms shook, legs trembled and heart beat faster in my throat, but the anger burned brighter. “You can’t intimidate me.” She had no idea what I’d dealt with. No idea what I’d faced and won.

If she wanted a fight I didn’t have a choice anyway.

She snarled, lunging and jutting out her foot, sweeping my legs out from under me but I shot my arms out, snatching her by the fabric of her jumpsuit and dragging her down with me. She fell hard onto her side and I scrambled on top of her, grabbing her hands and trying to hold her down as she thrashed and kicked and-

Fear. Sharp, fast, it raced up my arm from her hands. Her racing heart, her burning lungs, her panic, seeping up through my skin, through my blood and into my own heart racing faster, faster, faster to match hers. She struggled and I pushed harder, eyes locked on hers. Fear. Panic. Weak. She was weaker than me. Weak enough. Weak enough.

I snarled, leaning in closer to her face. “You’re scared, you little liar you’re scared!” I grinned, teeth sharper than they should be as the panic racing through my blood spurred me on. “If you’re scared of me, how do you think you’ll do in the arena?”

She struggled harder, growling, smoke seeping from her clenched teeth. “Fuck you! I’m not scared of you!”

Liar. I pushed harder but her metal knee slammed between my legs. Pain shot through me and I crumpled sideways, curling on the hard concrete floor sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth. My chest burned, hot, blood boiling with the anger coursing through from my heart through the veins and vessels and I twisted my neck, glaring up at her, the girl, the weak, pathetic, liar of a girl.

She said she didn’t fear me, “and yet, yet I can feel the way your heart races, your lungs burn, the panic racing through to your very core.” I dragged myself up from the ground, pulling in the light around me, dark muddling my outline as it died inside of me. “You don’t even know what you are, do you?”

She froze, standing, staring. “I’m a monster, right? That’s all you people ever say!”

I fixed my eyes on her, sharp, unwavering, unblinking. Nothing else. There was nothing else but me and her and she was losing. I could get to her. I could get to her. I could get under her and—

“You’re stupid then too, aren’t you? Why would everyone lie to you?” I stalked forward, lights flickering as I passed underneath, heart beating and beating in my chest as my hands curled by my sides. “Stupid, useless, monster!”

Backing up, she backed up, one step after another a crack in her mask. A crack in the bravado, the unearned bravery. “You have nothing new to say. I’ve heard it all, you bastard!”

A shock of flame coated her fist, hot and burning and she didn’t believe what she was saying. She knew, she knew I was right. She knew, she knew, she knew.

A snarl tore from my throat and I leapt, slamming into her shoulders and forcing her down to the ground. Teeth sharpened, nails grew to claws at the tips of my fingers, as I dug into her skin drawing blood. Drawing the fear and panic and the way her heart raced and magic lay just under her skin useless against me.

“Pathetic, is that all you can do?” I dug in harder, grinning as she winced. “You lie to yourself.”

Her struggles weakened, her strength sapped as it pulled instead through me, drawn through her skin and up my burning arms and died deep, deep within me. Light around us grayed and my eyes never left hers, wide, staring, sharp in the dimming light as I took even that.

“Shut up! I’m not weak! I won’t let you—”

She choked on her words, choked on her tears as I loomed over her. She wouldn’t let me? Let me? Wouldn’t let me?

I lowered my voice to a growl. “I think we both know what you want doesn’t matter. You’re weak.”

Tears ran down her face and she kicked blindly, uselessly. She winced as I lifted and slammed her back onto the cold, hard, floor. “Look at you, you’re crying. Is that all you’re good for?” I growled, a sharp grin spreading across my face as I leaned in and in and in and—

She was crying.

Crying.

I made her cry.

I froze, scrambling back to my feet and stepping back, back, far enough I couldn’t hurt her. No. No this, this wasn’t. This wasn’t what I.

I swallowed. She was watching, staring, waiting. Waiting for me to. Would I look like a coward now? No, no this wasn’t.

I swallowed harder and sucked in a long breath, long and cool to try and slow my heart, quench my lungs. “Don’t fight me again.” I couldn’t, I couldn’t do this. Not yet. Not already. Not already.

“I’m not scared of you!” She shouted.

My hand clenched and I held it back with the other on my wrist. “I,” I stepped back. Back.

But she was weak. I was getting to her. I was—

“I have to go.”

I left, clutching my wrist in one hand and pushing my legs as fast as they could walk back towards the elevators. I couldn’t stay. Couldn’t stay. If there were eyes on me I couldn’t feel them, pushing into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor with a shaking hand.

In the overhead lights outlines of horns, of tails, of claws, reflected back at me. Dark, curled, with a manipulative tongue.

Vena.

I looked like Vena.

“Asher?”

A knock came from the locked bathroom door. Sounded like Ginger. She’d knocked before, half an hour ago, but I hadn’t moved sitting in the shower, clutching my knees to my chest and staring at the tile before me as the steam billowed and water fell hot on my back.

I wasn’t supposed to do that. Wasn’t supposed to be like that anymore. Was all I did for nothing? I trembled, having run out of tears sometime earlier and not noticing as shower water rained down my face instead. I, I was going to kill her. I was going to hurt her, hurt her and make her do it herself, wasn’t I? I wasn’t, I wasn’t different from Vena. Was I the same? I was his son. I was his son, why did I think I would ever be better?

“Asher, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Ginger’s voice came muffled again through the door. What was there to say? She, she knew what I was. She’d seen me at my worse. She would be so disappointed. Disappointed in me.

I curled over, resting my forehead against my knees. She shouldn’t have come. Cirrus shouldn’t have come. They came all this way, just to see me like this? To see me like this and then die?

Maybe it was what I deserved. Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was for the best.

“Asher I’m coming in.”

I pressed my head harder into my knees as a key clicked in the lock. Of course there would have been someone she could find with the key to a locked room. She’d had the time. Was that were she’d gone after the first time? I heard her come in, then the faucet squeak as she turned. The water stopped and silence filled the room. Silent besides the water dripping from the ends of my hair onto the slick shower tile.

Her shoes creaked as she crouched. “What happened Asher?”

I shook my head, words muffled by my legs. “It happened again. I, I, I went after someone.” Chased her down, scathed her and for what? I swallowed. “Vena, he used to do the same thing. He went after Striker’s dad. He got to him and he…” He had been happy, but Vena got to him and they found his body in the bedroom.

“Easy, Asher.” Ginger softened her voice. “Breathe, you’re okay. You came back. You disengaged and came straight back here and I’m very glad you did.”

But I’d already done too much. The way she’d cried, shaking, scared. What was she doing now? What if I’d pushed too far? What if something happened to her now and it was my fault?

Fabric shuffled, and a Ginger draped a soft towel around my shoulders. “I suspected this would be hard for you. It’s part of why I decided to come.” She paused, clothes shifting softly as she got up again. “I’ve got a bathrobe here. Why don’t you dry off and put this on? You’ll probably feel better than sitting in the shower.”

Maybe. She was probably right, but did I deserve to feel better? I pulled the towel in around me in a weak effort to dry myself. Even if I didn’t deserve it I was too tired to try and argue with her, moving slow and foggy. She waited patiently for me to finish, and to stand on shaking legs as she handed me the bathrobe. It was warm, soft and plush.

“That’s better.” Ginger smiled softly. “I won’t tell Ares about this if you don’t want me to, but you’re going to have to be careful the rest of this week.” She stepped towards the door, pausing and waiting for me to follow. “There will be a lot going on, and it will be stressful. It might be difficult but I trust you, Asher. You will pull through this, and Cirrus and I will be here to help.”

She shouldn’t have to do this for me. Neither of them should. But here she was, settling me into bed and leaving a glass of water on the nightstand for me after I’d tormented someone for no good reason. She left the door open a crack when she left.

#whg 20 #tw suicide mention #briefly and with minimal detail #Asher Sang #Chess

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vincent-sinclair-deserved-better · 2 years

Text

I Can't Decide

Whether You Should Live Or Die

Characters: Cylas, and still @rottent33ths baby boy Clay <3

Words: 2268

Content warnings: talk about death, planned murder, past kidnapping and murder, torture

divider by delishlydelightfuldividers

“Can I show you something?”

Her voice pulled him from his conflicted thoughts and he nodded. She motioned for him to step back into the hall and left the room, closing but not locking the door. Instead, she turned to their right, the lone door at the end of the hall.

“I’m not sure if you noticed earlier, during my... ‘speech’. I slipped up, said ‘us’ instead of ‘me’,” she said, trying to sound casual but her voice was shaky and cracked towards the end, “I mean, I also mentioned before that he had ‘practice’ in this whole method of killing, that he’d done it before – six times – and... well. Police did end up digging out the remains, so the family could give the other girls proper burials and stuff. But they never found this place didn’t bother to really look either though.”

She opened the door, and Clay’s gaze fell onto a narrow table, pushed up against the wall just opposite of the entrance. The room itself was fairly small, probably a storage room, but it was almost completely empty except for the table and some shelves. Shelves that had nothing on them except candles and flowers.

The table was covered by a pure, white cloth, and on the wall above it hung, in a neat row, six picture frames. From each of them, a girl smiled at him, varying ages but none past their teens. There were more candles along the edges of the table, though mostly tealights, and seemingly random knickknacks placed under each of the photographs. A stuffed bunny, braided bracelets, a keyring with all kinds of charms.

And then his eyes fell onto the small metal plaques on the lower edge of the frames. Each one had a name and two dates. It looked like some kind of shrine or place of remembrance. “This... you made this?”

Cylas nodded, “When I first came back here and looked around this place, I found that asshole’s office. He kept all kinds of stuff, things that had belonged to the others, in a random drawer. Plus, folders with information on each one us, and pictures. Photos he must have taken secretly when stalking us, stuff from social media, several from the time here... I burned most of them.”

“Why didn’t you give them to the police? Or the families?” he asked.

“There was no real need, he’d already gotten his sentence, and with the families I just didn’t want to poke around in open wounds, it had been a couple months since everything had come out,” she shrugged, “The police didn’t seem to have cared enough to properly look for this place, they didn’t even look for the van used for the kidnappings. And... I don’t know how to explain, but there is some kind of emotional connection I have with... this. I can’t – or don’t want to – let go. Maybe it’s got to do with just having proof that my experiences are real. I don’t like the thought of having strangers poke around down here.”

“Anyway, you still up to spending some time with your new friend? Or have I successfully scared you off?”

“You're not- I don’t think you’re crazy, okay? And you won’t be getting rid of me this easily,” he said, letting out something between a scoff and a snort, “I guess... this is a little more than I expected. Again. But that doesn’t change my opinion or make me see you in a bad light. Sure, it’s quite different from my methods and I don’t quite understand why anyone would go through all this effort, but, then again, this isn’t your average course of action either, right?”

“Nah, only special people get this kinda effort,” she said, visibly relaxing, “And it’s not for their gain. I think it’s just really got to do with me having been in that position where all I wanted was for the pain to end, even if it meant death. I know what it feels like when death is not scary but all you want. And I guess it’s just something you can’t really relate to unless you’ve been there.”

“So, now that we’ve got all of that cleared up – you gonna introduce me to ‘my new friend’?”

She smiled, genuinely, not the exaggerated or cruel kind, “Of course, I’m sure he’s excited as well. Kind of mean for me to tease y’all like this, no? Letting you get a look at each other, only to drag you off.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he loves to see a new face for a change,” Clay added, humouring her... ‘playful’ style.

She motioned towards the flower-patterned door, “Go on, it’s unlocked, and I’m sure you can figure out how to use a door handle.”

He rolled his eyes but did as she said, only to be met with the same view as before. The man didn’t seem to have moved even an inch, and all Clay could think was how pathetic he looked. “Well, I guess he won’t be digging any graves.”

Cylas squeezed past him, ducking under his arm, and strode confidently towards the miserable figure crouched on the floor.

“Come on now, sweetie, this is no way to treat guests, hm?” she said with a sickeningly sweet voice, and Clay could see the man flinch away from Cylas’s outstretched hand, “You know how this works by now, don’t you? Either you move your ass or I’ll make you.”

The man looked up at her with legitimate fear, before grabbing her hand and very shakily getting up. He was taller than Cylas, and if he had been in a better state, he might even have towered over her, but as things were, he might as well have been a mere insect under a microscope. Clay hadn’t been aware that it was possible to basically look down on someone who was physically larger, but it was the only way he could describe Cylas’ expression.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she said, and the man shook his head. She gave him a condescending smile and patted his hand, “So, the gentleman by the door is my friend Clay. I’d ask you to say ‘Hello Clay’, but... we know how difficult the whole speaking thing has become since the loss of your tongue.”

Clay raised a brow at that, “How did he- I assume that you were somehow involved in whatever lead to this specific loss?”

“Well, his backtalk and disrespect started to get annoying. Some people just don’t know when to shut up,” she replied, shrugging, “Anyway, Clay, meet... his name doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Any immediate thoughts? An instinctive vision of what you’d like his future to look like?”

He snorted, “I guess in this regard I am not quite as creative as you are. I wanted to bash his head in, but... he looks hardly worthy of that, to be honest. I’d be fine just throwing him in a hole and being done with it.”

“Whatever you say, you’re the boss,” she said. Clay looked at her in surprise. “Wait, you mean it?”

“M-hm,” came her response, “I think it’s time to move on, at least a little. Plus, keeping him alive does take a metric fuckton of effort and resources. I might actually learn something from you.”

He chuckled, “Then let’s go, get his sorry ass out of here. You know any good places for body disposal?”

“Probably just about anywhere,” she said, letting go of the man, the lack of support causing him to fall to the floor. Cylas went to remove the shackles, seemingly unbothered by the proximity to her prisoner. Then again, he did genuinely seem barely able to move on his own.

“Still would like to get at least a bit of distance to this place. And not to the west, I don’t want him anywhere near the place where he... where the others rested, even if they have been moved since.”

“Gotcha,” Clay said, “So, wanna get him into the car and look for a spot?”

“Sounds like a plan. Though I think we might have to carry or drag him after all, don’t think he can make the walk.”

“How are we gonna get him up the ladder though? And how did all the stuff get down here?” Clay asked, realising only now how complicated or close to impossible it seemed. At least for objects like a fridge or sofa that couldn’t really been taken apart.

Cylas looked at him with a smirk, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “There might be another way in and out of here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

She stepped over the man and was just about step outside, before she stopped and turned to look down at him. Clay watched as she stood, apparently thinking about something, before pulling the man up by his hair, his back to her, and reaching around to choke him out. Despite her small stature, she made it look easy, effortless, and Clay was once again reminded that she wasn’t a person that should be judged on looks alone.

“You mind taking him? Or do you wanna save your energy for the whole grave-digging thing?” she asked seriously, “I mean, he weighs pretty much nothing, but still. Can’t make you do all the work.”

Clay laughed, “It’s fine, I think I’ll manage. After overcoming the challenge of operating a door handle, this should be easy.”

“Alrighty then, let’s do this,” she said, almost skipping out of the room and down the hall. He chuckled at her now cheerful and upbeat behaviour, still struggling a little to keep up with the way her mood could just change so suddenly.

With the unconscious man slung over his shoulder, he followed Cylas to where she was waiting, in front of the door right next to the entrance they had come through.

“This,” she said, pushing it open, “Is his former office. I don’t really come in here, but it has one advantage-”

Right across the room was another door, but made from steel and looking like it had previously been hidden or covered.

“A stereotypical secret doorway, hidden behind a bookshelf. I took the freedom to remove it because... it was just annoying to constantly have to use the stupid mechanism. Now it’s just a heavy ass door,” Cylas explained while unlocking the door and pulling some bars into place, before finally pushing it open.

Despite having described it as heavy, she didn’t seem to struggle with it, and easily held it open for Clay. He, to his credit, seemed completely unbothered by the body dangling over his shoulder. The door shut with a slam that echoed down the tunnel, this one actually made from concrete and stone, with electric lights and ceilings Clay didn’t have to fear hitting his head against.

“Um, so, if this here is a thing... why did you drag me down that other hole?” he asked, but already knowing the answer when he saw the grin on Cylas’ face.

“Cause I thought it’d be funny,” she said unsurprisingly, “Payback for you always putting shit on the top shelves or holding stuff over my head.”

“Alright, you vindictive little gnome,” he said, “Lead the way.”

“Shut up or I’ll take your kneecaps,” she retorted, turning away and starting to walk down the tunnel.

He chuckled and patted her head.

“Pff, you can act all high and mighty all you want, you still blush like a teenage girl when complimented,” Cylas said teasingly, “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”

When she looked back at him, she could, in fact, see a light rosy shade spread over his cheeks, despite him turning his head away.

“I’ll get you back for that, just you wait,” Clay said, sounding slightly flustered but not upset.

Cylas smiled, “I’d expect no less.”

It wasn’t long before they arrived at some stairs that lead towards another set of metal doors. Once the pair stepped through them, they found themselves back in the forest and not far from where they had left the car.

Cylas watched Clay as he looked around in disbelief, before turning his attention towards her. “You made me walk all the way through bushes and brambles and all that stuff, to some tiny trapdoor that led to a dwarf-sized tunnel, even though this is right here?”

She shrugged, “Being an annoying little shit is how I show love and affection. Sometimes.”

Clay rolled his eyes and looked back at the door they had left through, only to find it amazingly well camouflaged against the hill, blending in with the rest of nature around it. Not impossible to notice if one was to really look around, but easy to miss when just glancing at it.

“Come oooon, the car is basically in reach,” Cylas said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along, “We should try and make as much use of the leftover daylight as possible.”

He followed without further comment or protest, and just dumped the body in the back of the car, although they did tie the man up, just as a precaution. Cylas plopped down in the passenger seat while Clay got in on the driver side.

“So, should we just follow the road for a bit?”

She nodded, “Yeah, trees and bushes and stuff will get a little denser a little way down, or look like it at least, but there’s a side road we can go down. I’ll point it out to you when we get there.”

“Alright then,” he said and started the car.

@bluecoolr

#oh my god i need to up my sentence begginings game #cylas writes #clay and cylas #clay spencer #once again it is past 12 #cylas keir #oc cylas #🍕

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

1,000 Follower Special

Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:

Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy

~No minor members obviously~

Dream:

When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.

The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.

Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.

Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.

One day instead of them you were standing in their place.

The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.

It was safe to say he was addicted.

He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.

Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments.

To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.

If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant.

He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle.

Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot.

You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms.

He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.

Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours.

He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth.

He then promptly passed out in your arms.

Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed.

He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.

At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself.

You were his good girl.

GeorgeNotFound:

Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going.

She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed.

She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots.

Oh no she was mean and hot.

You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something.

You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.

He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him.

Having no other options he agreed to go with you.

As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted.

(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)

He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew.

You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.

As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.

Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?

He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.

It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him.

They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.

Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red.

The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another.

George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back.

It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you.

He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face.

“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”

“I won’t my savior.”

Sapnap:

At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone.

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.

It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you.

Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness.

“You like her Sappy Nappy.”

“What no I- Oh shit.”

That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you.

Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over.

Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.

Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire.

You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head.

He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).

From that moment on the both of you started dating.

You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him.

When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him.

You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened.

You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought.

He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.

When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up.

You were his little Firecracker.

Technoblade:

You were Phil’s little helper.

For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows.

At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around.

Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter.

The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core.

Oh no, you were hot.

Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight.

You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.

He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound.

You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder.

In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.

The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red.

You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’

Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.

The glare he sent his old friend was piercing.

As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer.

Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears.

You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved.

He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features.

The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively

Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government.

You were his Princess.

Philza:

He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away.

That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death.

Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.

You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly.

He didn’t know much about you only that:

You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.

It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.

Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution.

After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.

You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule.

He fell in love with you.

When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion.

He was promptly placed under house arrest.

You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet.

Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly.

The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him.

You and Phil didn’t intervene.

After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.

Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his

You both acted like an old married couple.

Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating.

Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you.

He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed.

You kissed him at the end of the night.

It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you.

You were his angel

Wilbur:

After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.

That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you.

You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean.

You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.

He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him.

You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall.

After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic.

He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint.

The two of you were an item not soon after.

Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude.

They both loved when you sang the best.

You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell.

You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly.

When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft.

Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.

Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.

“Go get them, Wilby.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia.

You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death.

As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.

He told you he loved you on his last breath.

You were his muse.

Fundy:

Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.

You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes.

You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer.

Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.

He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.

Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you.

Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms.

Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.

Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.

He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him.

Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession.

His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging

Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you.

Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad.

You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him.

Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well.

After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.

As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again.

He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.

However, that was still a long way away.

For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.

~~~

Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊

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brucie-bruce-waynee · 2 years

Text

The Actor and the Billionaire Part 5

(A/N: Here is the last part! Thank you all for coming on this ride with me :))

Word count: 3.3k

The marketing team didn’t seem horribly surprised that the two of you had turned your sort of scam into an actual relationship. Walking out of the conference room with Bruce’s hand in yours, you were all smiles.

“Would you like a ride home?”

“Nah, I think I’ll walk, actually.”

Bruce pressed his nose to your forehead. You kissed him on both cheeks, trying to reassure him.

“Remember what happened last time you went out alone?”

You would’ve told them to fuck off if anyone else had said it. That you didn’t accept being patronized. But from Bruce, you knew he was genuinely concerned. Batman didn’t show up during the day, and Bruce worried for you on the streets of Gotham.

“I’ll text you the entire way and send you a picture of Cinnamon when I get home.”

You noticed a van following you for three blocks. Even as much of a coincidence as it could be, your hackles were raised. Being vigilant would help you this time. You scrolled to Bruce’s contact and called him. When you were distracted, a figure popped out of the alley on your left, dragging you in. A gloved hand muffled a scream, and you were wrestled into solid arms.

Your phone had been dropped in the scuffle. The van pulled through the sidewalk driveway. You scream again, and the arms that hold you squeeze until your breath is gone. This is when you see Bruce pick up the phone on his side.

“Ah, good. You got them.”

You knew that voice. Fucking Anthony! You thought you’d gotten rid of him, but of course, he’d do some shit like this. Swearing at the man in front of you behind gloves wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you hoped. Anthony leaned down to pick up your phone, and you began fighting again. No! Don’t tell Bruce!

“Mr. Wayne? Yes, we have your plaything here.”

Growling, you kicked backward and landed home directly on the person’s crotch. They scrabbled back with a yell, and you surged forward.

“Bruce, no! Don’t do what they say! I’m so sorry!”

That was all you could say before you were grabbed, forced to the ground, and gagged.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wayne. We’ll keep them safe while you give us what they want. Instructions will have been dropped by your apartment today. Fulfill them and maybe we’ll consider letting them go.”

As Anthony was talking, your captor bundled you into the back of the van, tying your hands. You hissed as your new bracelet cut into your wrist. Your companion was a woman with a pixie cut. Damn, she was strong. And you had kicked her in the crotch. No matter who it was, a kick there would hurt. She had a glittering satisfaction on her face. That was when it dawned on you.

You’d seen the faces of both these people. As the doors closed to leave you in darkness, a chill swept your body. They’d been so bold as to not cover their faces. They were never going to give you back. You’d die with them, wherever they were taking you.

The drive to their base took a while, and you figured it must be out of the city. They hadn’t blindfolded you, but it didn’t matter. There were no windows in the back, and a tarp had been stapled to the roof. You could barely hear your captors.

They hadn’t bound your feet, but you didn’t want to move. There was no telling how pissed these guys would get if they knew you were trying to escape. You don’t even know how to start. They probably had guns and other weapons. Your mind is filled with bloody tire irons and baseball bats filled with nails. These thoughts were your companion when you arrived and tumbled out of the back of the van onto hard concrete.

“Leave them there. We have the cameras to set up,” Anthony said harshly.

Jesus, this was awful. Of course, it was horrible; you were kidnapped for ransom in relation to Bruce Wayne. This was bullshit. If you had been less of an emotional person, you would just tell them you weren’t in a relationship with him and maybe set free. But you had fallen for Bruce Wayne hard and fast. You could still lie, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

You laid there, watching these two set up a black sheet on a far wall with a couple cameras and some of those light reflectors you remembered from school picture day. Clearly, these were professional kidnappers. Or they had a photography studio on the side.

It was an interesting thing to be on the side of the kidnapped. You heard Anthony, the leader, make the threatening phone call to the Gotham Channel Nine news station and demand to be let on the air, claiming a kidnapping. The woman stepped on your knee and made you scream as proof to the station.

The chair was metal, cold, and stiff as you sat in it. The woman had bound your ankles to the legs and ripped your gag out of your mouth. Anthony walked over to you and grabbed your hair in his fist, pulling your head back painfully. He smiles down at you in that same sick way that made you uneasy when he worked for you.

“Didn’t you already threaten Bruce with ransom demands? What’s this now,” you asked, strained.

“Gotham needs to see how fragile even the lives of elites are.”

You rolled your eyes when he turned his back. The woman caught you, looking at you blankly. You’d heard of kidnapping victims trying to turn the kidnappers against one another, but you could see she had no light in her eyes that you could appeal to.

“The news is live? Ok. Our feed is on, tell me when you’re switching.”

Both of them had strapped these boxes onto their mouths. When they spoke, their voices were pitched down. Smart. The two stood in front of the camera to hide you for a dramatic reveal. And you thought you were the actor.

“People of Gotham, you are all vulnerable and weak. Even the highest among you is easily taken and incapacitated.”

The two stepped back to reveal you. You clenched your jaw, determined not to look panicked. It was a shit job.

“Make your demands. Beg, plead for your boyfriend to come save you.”

You kept silent, glaring at Anthony behind the camera. The woman came forward and yanked on your hair, making you cry out in pain.

“He told you to speak.”

Grinding your teeth down, you looked to Anthony. He was clearly frustrated with your lack of compliance.

“You can’t make me say anything I don’t want to,” you finally said, voice wobbling.

“So, you don’t want your boyfriend to use his wealth and influence to find you? You don’t want to demand to be released because you’re rich?”

Confusion was evident across your face. Is this what Anthony wanted you for?

“You think I’d endanger him and his business for you?”

Anthony stepped in front of the camera, cutting you off.

“Your prize actor is weak in my hands. They don’t even want help. What will you do, Gotham? What will you do, Mr. Bruce Wayne?”

Anthony punched the off button on the camera.

“What the fuck, dude? You couldn’t even play along?”

What? What?? Was he blaming his botched ransom video on you? He was putting his own incompetence on you. What the fuck.

“Maybe if you had given me a script-“

He punched you across the jaw, sending the chair you were strapped to flying. You landed hard on your right side, jolting your shoulder.

“You’re a bitch, you know that? A weak bitch.”

God, this guy was pathetic.

“Is this all because I fired you?”

“You were supposed to be mine! We were supposed to be together,” Anthony roared, his voice echoing up to the rafters of this warehouse. Really? Truthfully, you were close to pissing yourself, but his reasoning was ridiculous.

“Anthony. Control yourself.”

This was the first time you’d heard the woman speak. She looked just as blank as usual, but her eyes had a distinct fire, and they were trained against you.

“Jen, you saw what they were doing.”

“Is this your guy’s first kidnapping,” you asked, still on the ground.

“Shut it! God, let’s leave them here. Come on,” Anthony spat out.

The two got back in their van and left you there. On the floor. In a warehouse. The sun was setting outside the high windows. You had no idea how you had kept it together for so long, but now you cried. It was a silent cry, with you gasping for breath and scrunching your face so hard the muscles in your cheeks ached.

After you’d cried everything out of your body, you were numb. It was a good cry session, but you were exhausted. Only the pain of your shoulder kept you alert. You’d been on your side for hours with your ankles and hands bound. Any shifting was challenging. Were they ever coming back, or would they just leave you here for days? Would they feed you or let you go to the bathroom?

“Bruce, I know I said not to come, but I need help. Send anyone,” you said to the concrete.

The sun had set now. Batman would surely be on the lookout for you. But he didn’t know where you were. How would he?

You heard the rumbling of a van and tensed as the garage opened once more. Anthony emerged and stormed off to some other room in the warehouse while Jen came towards you with a box in hand. She righted your chair and released your hands.

The raw skin from the rope made you wince, but you kept back your tears. This woman wouldn’t see you cry. Your bracelet was stuck to the dried blood on your wrists.

“Here.”

She opened the box, and the smells that greeted you were heavenly. It smelled like barbecue. A pulled pork sandwich with fries. However, you weren’t stupid. Certain events would prove otherwise, but you knew better than to accept food from your fucking kidnapper.

“Please. You’re more useful to Anthony alive than dead. He’s trying to lure out your boyfriend, and he needs you for it,” she said with no inflection.

Pursing your lips, you hesitantly took the box and held it to your face. Mmmm. You hadn’t had barbecue in a long time. As you smelled, your stomach growled something fierce.

“I’m supposed to sit here and tie you back up when you’re finished.”

“Understandable,” you replied without really hearing her. All you were focused on was the food. You dug in, not caring about getting sauce on your face.

“So, how do you know Anthony,” you asked, mouth full.

“Dude, really?”

Jen had settled on the floor, legs crossed, chin in hands.

“Well, making conversation is better than you watching me eat.”

Jen ruffled her hair, short spikes sticking up from her fingers. She seems to think about it for a bit. Maybe she was making up a story, or she would ignore you.

“We’ve been friends since we were kids. He’s like my baby brother. If he’s hurt, I’m there for him. He asked me for a favor and I was there to help. I didn’t exactly expect him to do this, but I was in it. He showed me the plans and I couldn’t back out,” she said in a rush.

“I mean, you could’ve gone to the police. Taken pictures of his plans or something,” you said after swallowing a piece of sandwich.

“We’re family. Not an option.”

Jen’s tone garnered no further discussion, so you finished your sandwich and fries. You didn’t have a fork for the little container of coleslaw, so you didn’t touch it. As Jen was tying your hands back up, you spoke again.

“I wasn’t trying to turn you two against each other. I know that never works. Sorry you’re in this situation though.”

Jen pulled your wrists closer and left with your garbage.

It was a couple hours later, and the sun had fully set. Cold seeped into the large, empty building. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were exhausted. You’d given up trying to count the rafters when they finally disappeared in the dark. You rolled your neck while blowing a raspberry. Surely they’d know what to do with you, right?

Did Anthony really not plan anything besides taking you? He seemed incredibly volatile, switching emotions at the drop of a hat. Was this even the original plan to keep you this long?

A crash from the other room startles you. Screams follow the sound of gunshots and both Anthony and Jen run out of the room they’d been holed up in for hours. Behind them, melting out of the shadows and dust is Batman. You huff a disbelieving breath.

“Oh my god!”

Anthony stumbles to the ground and cowers under the wrath of the bat. Jen hovers above him, shooting venom with her glare. Batman stands there menacingly. Then you hear sirens and spotlights come flashing through the high windows. Police officers come flooding in, apprehending the kidnappers. Batman comes over to you, cutting your bonds. Tears finally spring into your eyes behind the cover of Batman’s chest.

“You came,” you whispered. Batman looks at you, and though he’s better at hiding his emotions in the mask, you see that fear in his eyes. The panic in those deep blue pools makes your heart twist.

“Nothing could’ve stopped me.”

Batman lifts you, one arm behind your knees and the other behind your back. He’s careful not to squish you too close to his chest. The two of you make your way outside, where so many police officers and news vans are surrounding the area. The crowd parts the way, and Batman walks through without looking at the masses surrounding him.

You’re deposited on the hood of Batman’s car. A paramedic comes over with a shock blanket. She introduces herself as Amy and does all the preliminary checks; eyes, ears, mouth, lungs. Her hands skim over your wrists. Once she’s satisfied, she advises Batman to stay by your side while getting the supplies she needs for treating your injuries. You admire the all-business mode that allows her to order Batman around. It’s funny.

“How did you find me?”

Batman takes hold of your wrist delicately, turning over the band of your bracelet. There, near the clasp, is a blinking light.

“Tracker. Didn’t think it would be used so soon.”

You touched the light with a finger and gave Batman a raised brow.

“I’ll save the creep talk for later.”

Amy comes back and treats your ankles first. The rope burn isn’t as bad on them, but it’s not great. Batman takes your bracelet off your wrist to help the paramedic.

“If you need to talk to the police, Mr. Batman, I can handle this here. They’re in good hands with me,” Amy says without looking away from your injuries. Batman doesn’t move.

“He’s not hurting anybody, right? If he wants to stay, we can’t make him leave,” you said, wincing with a nasty sting. Amy sends you a sympathetic look and bandages your wrists.

“I suppose. But really, the police will want to speak with both of you for different reasons,” Amy muttered, getting back into her work zone.

“I’m not leaving their side.”

You’re safely back home the next day, Cinnamon cuddled into your lap as you recline in bed. Alfred is here, and while you weren’t expecting him in your own home, you’re glad to see him. He carries a tray of soup and tea on a tray.

“I simply cannot believe they didn’t let you leave that police station until Master Bruce threatened something nasty. You’ve been up for almost 48 hours now.”

Alfred putters around, fixing your blankets and pulling Cinnamon away so you can eat in peace. How times have changed. Cinnamon had never let people touch him, and now he was curled contently in Alfred’s arms.

“I mean really. They interrogated you almost as if you were the criminal and not the victim.”

“I mean, I can understand why. They need all the information they can get.”

“I won’t have you speaking so highly of the police when they kept a kidnapping victim up for over 36 hours. Especially in your condition,” Alfred snipped.

Alfred’s hand skimmed over your bruised jaw. He’d brought in a new ice pack with the food and pressed it into your hand.

“How’s he doing?”

Alfred needed no elaboration on the ‘he.’ Bruce had stowed away in his cave just like last week. Something about being constantly vigilant. All you wanted was to hold Bruce in your arms and watch a movie or something. Or even just sleeping!

“He thinks that he’ll be able to see something that he hasn’t before. He’s also vetting a team of security guards for you.”

You hummed, taking the first pull of soup. It was only a broth, but chicken noodle soup always made your chest tighten with the familiarity of childhood.

“I want to pull him out of there, but I wouldn’t know what to say,” you say to your soup.

“He would do anything you asked. If he’s in a less obstructed part down there, I’ll have no issue reaching him on the phone. When he picks up, I’ll let you speak to him.”

Alfred seems almost as done with Bruce’s behavior as you were. Of course, he’d had to live with the guy his entire life, so while he was infinitely more understanding of his mood swings, he was also more eager for Bruce to return to the light, so to speak.

It’s only a few moments when Alfred comes back into the room. He’d excused himself while you were gulping down soup. You almost don’t want to put the soup down, but you do and answer.

“They want to talk to you, Bruce Thomas Wayne, and so help me, you will.”

You cover your mouth to stop a laugh coming out of you. God, that was so like the two of them. Some shuffling occurs, and the breathing on the other end shifts.

“Bruce?”

“Yeah.”

He sounds weary, more so than usual. You just want to cuddle him.

“Come over to my place.”

“I can’t. I have-“

“I didn’t ask. I’m telling you. There’s no better way to ensure my safety than to be here with me,” you say, turning a bit for some privacy. “I miss you.”

Something crashes on the other side of the phone, and you laugh this time.

“I’ll be over soon.”

“Come over now. I know you can drive yourself. Alfred made soup and I know he made more than just for me.”

When Bruce arrives, he’s damp from riding on his motorcycle in the drizzle outside. He crawls up your bed, socked feet lying on top of yours, hidden beneath your blanket.

“What’s the soup,” Bruce asks, chin buried in a pillow beside you.

“That’s how your greet your significant other? It’s chicken noodle with just the broth,” you say, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend on the forehead.

With Bruce by your side, you feel you can finally sleep now. You settled comfortably on his chest after draining the soup and tea and watching Bruce eat his own meal.

“With how muscular you are, you’d think that your chest isn’t comfortable, but you’d be wrong.”

You slid one of your hands under Bruce’s t-shirt and felt as he tensed his stomach muscles for you. Stopping at his pec, you groped gently, whispering a soft ‘honk’ and laughing as Bruce squeezed you in a safe spot so as not to irritate your wounds.

“Good night, Bruce.”

“Good night.”

@lauftivy @shimmeringgrim

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #batman x you #battinson x reader #battinson fanfiction #the batman #the batman fanfic

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xreaderbooks · 4 years

Text

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707 ,@theworthlessqueen ,@ciciakai ,@rockinginneverland

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics.

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head.

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her, staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments.

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself.

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone.

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice.

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness.

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore.

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that.

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them.

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically.

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears.

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with.

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness.

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights.

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life.

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue.

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again.

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy.

She misses Zippy badly.

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place.

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on.

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him.

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes.

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor.

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end.

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times.

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly.

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door.

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her.

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly.

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying.

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state.

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth.

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it.

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face.

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath.

"Who did this to you?"

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders.

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying.

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest.

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets.

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life.

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door.

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love."

"What?"

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye.

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her.

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so,

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her.

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth.

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her.

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it.

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls.

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head.

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down.

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room.

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt.

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause.

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret.

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind.

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars.

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her.

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak.

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey."

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly.

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction.

To have his loved one in his arms.

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering.

She'll heal.

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else.

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman."

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend.

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out.

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!"

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff.

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it.

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness.

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times.

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances.

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely."

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist.

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward.

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies."

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos.

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back.

With a strict warning glare to her way.

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly.

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley.

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard.

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back.

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek.

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble.

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk.

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment.

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns!

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it.

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change.

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side.

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does.

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup.

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does.

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment.

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident!

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it.

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp.

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically.

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered.

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees.

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile.

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly.

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently.

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace.

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her.

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair.

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely.

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness.

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade.

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl.

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck.

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly.

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls.

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart.

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase.

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me."

"Why?"

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand.

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug.

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties.

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers.

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date."

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life.

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much."

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh.

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out.

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully.

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them.

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!"

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart.

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her.

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin.

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth.

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle.

Just made for him.

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath.

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely.

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y.

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket.

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him.

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face.

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her.

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt.

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force.

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought.

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls.

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection.

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly.

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air.

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp.

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides.

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want.

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll.

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off.

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay.

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey.

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand."

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head.

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile.

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent.

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively.

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together.

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too.

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm.

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans.

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie.

"Yours." She says without any hesitation.

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever.

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive.

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes.

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's.

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him.

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes.

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection.

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease.

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back.

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- "

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions,

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material.

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible.

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name.

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them.

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with.

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before.

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy.

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave.

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum.

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily.

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers.

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths.

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy.

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls.

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles.

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking.

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously.

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness.

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs.

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy.

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc.

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear.

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest.

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"You're gonna make me come."

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression.

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her.

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice.

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning.

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell.

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her.

She's jealous.

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality.

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her.

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk.

"You what!?"

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it.

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking.

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket.

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably.

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly.

"I love you too."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles fluffy duffy

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omg-just-peachy · 3 years

Note

sambucky forehead kisses please💕💕

Ahh this got a little long! To me, forehead kisses = sickfics, so 🥺this is basically just ~2k of Bucky taking care of Sam when he gets sick 💕

also on ao3

****

Sam can count on one hand the number of times he’s been sick in recent memory. He gets maybe one cold a year, if that, and fights it with a lot of orange juice, DayQuil, and sleep, and then moves on with his life. It’s not something he needs to make a fuss over, and certainly not something he needs anyone else involved for.

This time is different, though. He doesn't even realize he's getting sick, for one thing. He’d just come back to DC after nearly a month away, between missions and visits home to Delacroix, and Sam thought he was just tired, missing Sarah and the boys like a limb. His first night home, he’d all but fallen into bed after emptying his duffel bag into the hamper, a problem for another day.

But when the next day rolls around, Sam wakes up drenched in sweat, his head pounding. His body feels like its been hit by a truck, and when he tries to stand up, to make his way to the bathroom and splash some water on his face and get himself together, he feels too woozy to take more than a few steps.

More sleep, Sam thinks distantly. More sleep is all he needs, then he’ll be right as rain.

The next time Sam wakes up, it’s late morning, and his stomach roils. He doesn’t think about how dizzy he is, only knows that he’s going to be sick, and so he books it to the bathroom, holding onto the wall as he goes.

He heaves into the toilet, eyes watering as his stomach convulses and sweat beads across his forehead all over again. Somehow, he'd managed to pick up a serious bug over the last few days, and it was not messing around.

Exhausted, Sam rinses his mouth, splashes some water on his face, and contemplates an Advil for his still-throbbing head before thinking the better of it on an empty stomach. And besides, all he really wants right now is to get back in bed.

“Sam?”

The sound of a voice, far away, then moving closer.

“Sam? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

The press of something wonderfully cool against his forehead, there and then gone in a flash, and Sam has to force his eyes open, a Herculean task when he feels so entirely wrecked. He feels all the worse when he finds Bucky standing in front of him, his face contorted with worry.

“Thank god,” Bucky mutters. “You looked dead.”

“M’not dead, Barnes, you’re not getting rid of me that easy” Sam retorts. At least, he means it as a retort, but he's pretty sure it comes out too raspy and tired to be very convincing.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Bucky says, like this explained his presence in Sam’s apartment.

“Pretty sure the phone’s dead,” Sam groans. “And since when do you call me?”

“Since we became friends,” Bucky says, then corrects himself. “Co-workers.”

Normally, Sam would give him shit for this, ask if they were really friends, if they had bracelets to celebrate such a milestone, to declare to the world that they were really and truly friends, but right now, his brain won’t let him do any of that. Instead, all he feels is an overwhelming sense of relief that someone was here with him, even if that person is Bucky Barnes, acquaintance turned coworker turned, yes, friend.

“Think I caught a bug,” Sam says, then closes his eyes again when the room spins. “Somewhere between the airport and here.”

“You don’t look good,” Bucky agrees. He lays the metal hand on Sam’s forehead again, blissfully cool to the touch, and he sounds concerned when he speaks again. “You’re really warm.”

“No,” Sam shakes his head. “I was warm earlier, now I’m freezing.” He gestures to the blankets he has all but burrowed himself into.

“That’s a fever,” Bucky says patiently. “Have you taken anything? Eaten anything?”

“Y’gonna make me soup, Buck?” Sam asks. It comes out more pleading than joking and he immediately wants to take it back, or crawl further into his bedsheets than he already is, but Bucky just shakes his head.

“That’s not an answer.”

“No medicine. Think I ate somethin’... yesterday? I did try and get up earlier,” Sam explains. “It didn’t go so well.” He opens his eyes again long enough to see the little crease form between Bucky’s eyebrows. For a former assassin, the guy sure was an open book.

“I’m gonna make you some toast, okay? Then you can try some Tylenol. For the fever.” It’s not really a question, Sam realizes, because Bucky’s gone again before he can reply.

“Sam,” Bucky’s voice wakes him up again. “C’mon, can you sit up? God, you’re stubborn even when you’re sick, I should’ve known…” Bucky mutters. The smell of burnt toast floods Sam’s nostrils all at once, though, hot and sharp, reminding him just how long it had been since he’s eaten.

“I burned the first two slices,” Bucky says apologetically. “But these should be good,” he holds out a plate with two slices of toast on it, and nods encouragingly when Sam takes it. “There’s water here, too,” Bucky tells him, gesturing to Sam’s bedside table where, sure enough, a tall glass of water is waiting for him. He decides to start with that, sipping at it carefully and realizing just how dry his mouth and throat feel.

“Thanks, Buck,” Sam says, taking a bite of toast.

“Can’t have Captain America taken out by the flu,” Bucky says, giving him a little smile.

“I never get sick,” Sam feels the need to say.

“Everyone gets sick,” Bucky says. “And you’ve been going nonstop for the last few months, it was bound to catch up with you.”

Sam considers this, his mind hazy, and realizes that Bucky’s right. When was the last time he’d let himself take a break? He doesn't have an answer for that, so he just finishes the toast, satisfied that his stomach doesn’t immediately try to reject it, then takes another few sips of water.

“You know, you really don’t have to stay here,” Sam says. “I’m good.”

Bucky scoffs. “You are not good,” he says. “You should see yourself.”

Sam makes a face. “I’d rather not.”

Instead of replying, Bucky shakes two Tylenol from a bottle and holds them out to Sam. “Here. Take these and try to get some more sleep,” he says.

Sam takes the pills with another swallow of water, and the next thing he knows, he’s falling asleep again, listening to Bucky comment on the books he has on his shelf in his room.

Sam’s stomach is rebelling against him again, and he makes it to the bathroom just in the nick of time, gasping and sweating all over again. He’s sitting back on his haunches, rubbing a hand over his face, when he feels a steadying hand on his back, rubbing soft, soothing circles over his t-shirt. That shirt had to be soaked through with sweat by now, but Sam doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.

“Okay?” Bucky asks, his voice quiet with worry.

“Yeah, I think I’m alright now,” Sam says. He still feels weak, though, like his limbs are being held together by nothing more than paper clips and string. His head is still pounding, too, but his stomach seems to be settling now, which is an improvement. “Think I might try and shower,” Sam decides.

It sounds heavenly, standing under the hot water, rinsing the grime and sickness from his body, and as soon as Bucky leaves, he does exactly that. Sam strips down and stands for what feels like an eternity beneath the hot spray. He’s not sure if his fever’s broken yet, just that the heat feels glorious on his skin.

When he gets out, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and part of sweats, he finds Bucky reading in the living room, and hears the sound of the washing machine running from down the hall.

Before he can even ask, Bucky turns and looks at him. “You look a little better,” he says. “I took the liberty of changing your sheets,” he adds. “You’re welcome.”

Sam feels something in his chest warm and soften, and he shakes his head. “You do not need to be doing my laundry,” he says, even though he knows what he should be saying is thank you.

“I know,” Bucky says, meeting his eye. “But I figured it’d be nice, after your shower, so…” He trails off, like he’s suddenly embarrassed.

Sam nods. “Thanks,” he says. “For sticking around.”

Bucky shrugs, like it’s nothing. “How are you feeling now?” He gestures for Sam to move closer, and he moves without argument.

“Little better,” Sam says. “Tired, though.”

Bucky reaches up, feels Sam's forehead with his flesh hand this time, then nods, apparently satisfied. “You’re not as hot as you were before,” he says.

“You’re good at this,” Sam says, the words leaving his mouth before he even registers the thought, but it’s true.

“I had a lot of practice, back in the day,” Bucky says. “Speaking of… you should drink some more water. I don’t want you to dehydrate and pass out on me.”

Sam nods, realizing that the glass of water is full again and sitting on the coffee table.

“In case you wanted a change of scenery and felt like staying out here,” Bucky says by way of explanation.

“Thanks,” Sam says again. He takes a sip, then settles himself onto the couch, limbs melting into the soft leather of it. He looks over at Bucky again and something registers. “Hey,” he says, “I thought you already read that.”

Bucky grins, holding the book aloft. It’s The Hobbit, of course. “Not too sick to give me shit, huh? And I have read it,” he says. “But it’s been a hundred years, give or take. I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

“Fair enough,” Sam says, feeling his eyes grow heavy as soon as he lays his head down.

“I can read it out loud to you, if you want,” Bucky offers. “It used to help Steve sleep when he was sick. Or we could just put the TV on,” he adds quickly.

“Reading might be nice,” Sam agrees, and even though he’s so tired he won’t be conscious long enough to hear very much, the idea of it is undeniably nice. Bucky has a nice voice, Sam thinks distantly.

“Okay,” Bucky agrees. He starts to read, his voice as low and soothing as Sam knew it would be. He wants to stay up, to enjoy it, this easy, attentive version of Bucky Barnes who showed up in his living room and is, apparently, content enough to stay even as Sam throws up his guts and sweats through his sheets, but he’s so tired that Bucky’s voice lulls him to sleep almost immediately.

It’s late when Sam wakes up next, the middle of the night, probably, and he’s still on the couch; still mostly asleep, for that matter. He’s only awake at all because he felt something shift, though he can’t figure out what.

There’s a blanket over him now, Sam realizes, and he’s finally comfortable, not too hot and not too cold, and he’s about to fall back asleep when he feels it again, something shifting gently. Bucky, he realizes. Bucky is still here, asleep on his couch. Or, he was, before. He’s awake now, shifting and standing and Sam is struck by the sudden, sleepy thought that he doesn’t want him to leave.

Before Sam can move a muscle, though, he feels the now familiar touch of cool metal on his forehead, and though he knows it won’t be there for long, Sam longs for it to stay. This time, though, Bucky’s hand is quickly replaced by his lips, dropping a quick, careful kiss to Sam’s forehead. It’s warm and soft and over in an instant, and this time, when San’s stomach flips, he knows it has nothing to do with the flu.

“He lives!” Bucky says the following morning when Sam joins him in the kitchen, having followed the scent of coffee and toast to find Bucky sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and The Hobbit opened in front of him. Sam still feels a little shaky on his feet, but his fever is gone, and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore, which is progress.

“He lives,” Sam repeats. He tries not to think too much about the way Bucky had leaned down and kissed him last night, the gesture tender in a way Sam hadn’t felt in far, far too long. “And you stayed,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m… glad you did.”

Bucky smiles, gives that same little it’s nothing shrug from last night. “Couldn’t let our new Captain America die on my watch,” he says. “Besides,” he teases. “You’re so much quieter when you’re sick.”

“Yeah, yeah, my hero,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “Though the flu would hardly kill me.”

“Well, no, not with me here,” Bucky says with a knowing smile. “You should have some water and orange juice though, hydrate and vitamin C, just in case."

“Who knew you were such a mother hen,” Sam says, unable to keep the fondness from his voice. “Not that I’m complaining.” He fills a glass with water and downs it. He is thirsty, now that he’s thinking about it.

“No?” Bucky asks, lifting his eyebrows.

“No,” Sam repeats, dropping into the chair beside Bucky’s. Again he thinks of Bucky’s lips on his forehead, Bucky’s hand on his back, steadying him, Bucky reading to him while he slept.

“Well, good,” Bucky says.

“And it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to hear a little more of that wizard book,” Sam finds himself saying. “If you don’t mind.” He clears his throat awkwardly, wonders if maybe he’d imagined everything in some kind of sickness-induced haze last night.

Bucky looks at him, surprised, then shakes his head. “I don’t mind,” he says. His eyes meet Sam’s for another split second, like he needs to confirm something, before reaching over and covering Sam’s hand with his own, warm and reassuring. He picks the book up and starts to read.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #sam/bucky #my fic #leostarkk #kisses prompts

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theright-sideofme · 4 years

Text

Feeling. J. Wooyoung

Wooyoung x fem!reader College au!, Soulmate au! WC: 4.9k Summary: You were one of the few who actually had a soulmate, shame you though the whole idea of love was artificial. Warnings: mentions of panic attack, language,

*12 years ago*

“Y/n got her soulmate mark!” Yeosang, your best friend shouted to the rest of the class a few seconds after the heart shaped scar bloomed on your skin; a moment you would never forget. The whole class ran over to you, shoving one another to see the mark that had just appeared on your skin. You were the first kid in your class to get a soulmate mark, so to say everyone was excited was an understatement.

“A heart? What’s a heart mean?” asked Mingi, another boy in your class. “Love” Yeosang said in a ‘duh’ tone that made you giggle. “Actually, it means Y/n will be able to feel what her soulmate feels, and they’ll be able to feel what she feels.” Your teacher explained, earning a chorus of ‘oh’s’ from you and your classmates. After everyone got a look at your mark your teacher was quick to get everyone back in their seats to resume class. You looked down at your wrist, a smile coming to your face as your heart swelled, “I have a soulmate” you whispered happily to yourself.

*Present*

You let out a sigh as you quickly cover up your soulmate mark with multiple bracelets, not wanting to look at it any longer. The day you found out you were one of the few who had a soulmate, you couldn’t have been more happy, but as you grew up, you realized your soulmate mark came with the watching eyes of everyone who saw it.

Soulmates were a bit of a rare occurrence, so when people saw anyone with a soulmate mark it grabbed their attention. Whether people were jealous or just curious about the phenomenon, everyone you had ever met only care about the stupid mark on your wrist. The only people who didn’t care were your best friends, Yeosang and Mingi. They both had marks of their own, but unlike you, they didn’t mind the prying eyes, the only thing they cared about was finding their soulmate.

“You can’t hide it forever you know,” Yeosang teased as he walked into you room, not even bothering to knock. “I can try” you huffed back in response. “What happens when you meet your soulmate, are you still gonna hide it” “probably” “dude seriously?”

Normally, when people find their soulmate, they proudly put themselves on display: showing off their mark, being overly affectionate in public, and over all just sucking up any attention they could get. It was disgusting.

“Yeah, seriously,” you stated. “I wouldn’t like that if I was your soulmate, I’d wanna show off our bond.” Yeosang stated, making you roll your eyes. Before you could respond with some witty comeback, a sudden wave of sadness hit you like a truck. Tears welled up in your eyes for god knows what reason and you felt like you had a lump the size of a baseball in your throat, it was awful. “What- whoah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you upset- no no no don’t cry” Yeosang said frantically as he tried to calm you down. You tried to explain that it wasn’t him, but the only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

“Heyy- What the hell did you do” Mingi said as he walked into your apartment, quickly rushing to your side and pulling you into his arms. “I didn’t do anything-” “of course you did something, it’s you” “Hey-” “shut up, please” you managed to say through sobs.

As much as you hated your soulmate bond, you hated that your soulmate was feeling like this even more. It made you wonder what happened and if they were okay, if someone was with them to help them.

After about five minutes of you sobbing, you finally calmed down enough to explain what happened. “Ah your soulmate bond! I thought you really were upset with me” “good” you sniffled, “maybe this will teach you to stay out of my business” “hmm” Yeosang pretended to be deep in thought before tackling you, “nah I’m good.” “Group hug!” Mingi shouted before pulling both you and Yeosang into his arms.

For the rest of the day you had this lingering sadness and the lump in your throat never went away. You never really gave much thought to your soulmate before, but today you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. There was this urge to find them and hold them and reassure them that everything would be okay. You tried pushing those thoughts away, you didn’t even want a soulmate, so why were you so concerned? You tried to convince yourself it was just because you were a nice person, but there was a deeper reason and you could feel it, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

You now sat at one of your favorite cafes with Mingi and Yeosang. You had went there to study, but no one was studying. Mingi was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, Yeosang was making sure Mingi would fail at that task, and you were recording all of it. Soft giggles left your mouth as Yeosang pushed Mingi for the third time, making the spoon fall to the ground. “Dude, come on-” Mingi pouted, shoving Yeosang back. “-I almost had it!” “Yeah I know, that’s the point” Mingi picked up the spoon from the ground and threw it a Yeosang, hitting him right in the forehead. You let out a loud laugh, all but snorting at the look on Yeosang’s face. The two bickered like two little kids for a while, giving you a front row seat to another one of their entertaining arguments. You were so distracted by your two best friends that you didn’t even realize the lump in your throat was gone.

Wooyoung lied in bed, a small smile on his face as he felt the urge to laugh. His soulmate was happy. He had been hurting all day, and he could only imagine what that did to his soulmate, so feeling them feel so care free- it made him happy. All Wooyoung ever wanted for his soulmate was for them to be happy, and he couldn’t stand when he would feel you hurt. He found it funny how quickly you would get annoyed or frustrated, he honestly just couldn’t wait to meet you.

After a while of just enjoying feeling okay, he looked over and saw it was actually getting pretty late and he had an 8am class tomorrow. He had already skipped class today, he couldn’t skip tomorrow too. So he quickly got ready for bed, slowly falling asleep with a warm feeling in his chest and a smile on his face.

“Feeling better” San asked as he plopped his stuff down next to Wooyoung. They had both shown up to class early, which was weird for the two who were normally the last ones into their classes. “Yeah, I’ll be good man” “that’s good, because we’re parting tonight.” San excitedly as he took his seat next to Wooyoung. Wooyoung had been down for the past few days and yesterday was the tipping point, San just wanted him to go out and let loose.

Wooyoung let a chuckle slip past his lips as he shook his head. “I don’t feel like going to another frat party-” “well it’s not a frat party because we’re throwing the party- just come on man” San whined as he all but begged his friend. “I’ll think about it.” Wooyoung sighed. He pulled out his laptop and textbook, getting ready for class when he heard the door get busted open. Everyone turned to the door to see two guys scrambling to stand up, and a girl, trying to get away from the two as quick as possible.

“You started it- hey, don’t run away from us!” The taller of the two shouted at the girl as she rushed to get a seat. She pretended like she didn’t hear them and sat two rows in front of San and Wooyoung. The two boys were quick to sit next to her, the shorter boy wrapping his arm around the girl as the taller one sat on her lap. “You two are so embarrassing- get off.” The girl whined as she tried to pry herself away from the two.

Wooyoung watched in amusement, they were definitely going to make this new semester interesting. He seem couldn’t pull his attention away from the trio, more specifically, the girl. She was beautiful, her smile was enchanting and her laughter made his heart swell, she was the type of girl people wrote songs about.

San noticed his friends staring and smiled. Wooyoung had always been faithful to a soulmate he had never met. He never had other relationships and he never gave into crushes he deemed “small” and “silly” all because he had a soulmate. Now here he was, ogling over a girl he didn’t know.

“Why don’t you go talk to her” San suggested, making Wooyoung snap out of his gaze. “Huh, why?” “because you think she’s cute” “I have a soulmate” “and you're not gonna know how to treat them if you’ve never been in a relationship” “then I learn with them” “what makes you think your soulmate's never dated anyone before?” Wooyoung had never considered that, but why would his soulmate date someone else if they knew they would end up with him- their soulmate. Wooyoung shook his head, trying to get rid of the jealous feeling that rose in his chest. He had no right to be jealous; he tried to reason to himself, but he couldn’t help it.

San saw him overthinking and sighed, “look, you’re just gonna have a nice friendly conversation with her, you’ll be fine.” Wooyoung thought for a moment, and San was right, he was just going to talk to her, nothing else. “Fine.”

After class you, Mingi, and Yeosang gathered your things and got ready to leave. “Be honest, the professor was totally checking me out, right?” You froze, giving Mingi an incredulous look before remembering, “It’s Mingi.” So with a small giggle you nodded, deciding to entertain his delusions. “Yeah Min, She was totally checking you” “I sense sarcasm; I will ignore.” Both you and Yeosang laughed as you continued to pack up, shaking your head at you crazy friend.

“Uh hey” the three of you snapped your heads up and saw two rather attractive guys standing in front of you. One had pink hair and cat like eyes that would probably be scary if he wasn't smiling. The other guy- he was breathtaking. He had jet black hair and the most enchanting eyes- whoa. “Um, hi” you replied, silently wondering if your heart speeding up was you or your soulmate.

“We’re throwing a party tonight and you guys seem… fun, so we were wondering if you wanted to come?” The one with black hair asked as he shot you a smile. Okay so the heart thing was definitely you, got it. You took a deep breath and looked back at your friends, who were already looking at you with puppy dog eyes. They knew you didn’t like parties, but they loved parties, and loved to make new friends. Mingi even grabbed onto your hand like a toddler and pouted out his lip. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to the two boys and nodded, “we’ll be there-” “yes!” The two boys behind you cheered, making you try to hold in a laugh, “um, I can give you my number and you could text me the address?” “yeah, sounds good.” The two of you quickly exchanged numbers and then the five of your exited the class before parting ways.

“They were cute” Mingi sighs as he looks dreamily into the distance. “Yeah, and one of them was totally checking out Y/n” “Ha, I beg your pardon?” Yeosang smirks as he pulls you in closer. “Come on Y/n, don’t tell me you're blind? The dude you gave your number to was totally checking you out” “well it doesn’t matter” you say simply, trying to ignore the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. Was he really checking you out?

“You know, for someone who rejects the idea of her soulmate so much, you’ve been awfully loyal to them.” Yeosang points out, “huh?” “You’ve never been in a relationship, you never entertained anyone who had romantic feelings for you, hell you even stepped on Nicks foot when he asked you out” “yeah but Nick was a dick” Mingi interjected.

Okay, so maybe it was true you’ve never tried to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone, but you didn’t think that had anything to do with your soulmate. You had rejected the idea of love a long time ago. Nowadays, a relationship was another accessory everyone wanted to show off, and you didn’t want to feel like a human handbag. People who found their soulmates often just assumed they would work out just because they were soulmates, they didn’t try to make the whole process of falling in love special, they just flaunted their soulmate marks and relationships. You didn’t want to end up like that, ever.

The party had been going on for about an hour in Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yunho’s shared apartment and was now filled with people, most of which Wooyoung didn’t even know. Sure, Wooyoung was a social butterfly and had probably talked to almost everyone there, but that didn’t mean he knew them or even their names. Wooyoung lets out a sigh, leaning up against the wall as he sips his drink quietly. The only person Wooyoung actually wanted to see right now was you, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Hey, this is your party, right?” Some girl asks as she comes up to Wooyoung. “My roommates party, but yeah sure” “well it’s really great” she said cheerily as she looks up at him with a bright smile. Wooyoung nods, truly uninterested in what the girl had to say. “Mhm, it’s super” the girl giggles, leaning closer to Wooyoung who doesn’t even spare her a glance. “You seem to be the only one not having fun.” She says with a pout, and Wooyoung is about ready to just start ignoring her, but then he sees you walk in the room with your friends. He felt relief and excitement wash over him when his eyes landed on you “Excuse me.” Was all Wooyoung said to the girl as he quickly made his way over to you.

“You made it” Wooyoung cheers as he approaches the three of you. You smile and nod, looking around the crowded apartment for a brief moment, how do so many people fit in this small ass place, you wonder. Yeosang places a hand on your shoulder before telling you he’s gonna go get you guys some drinks and you nod. Wooyoung directs him to the kitchen and he ends up taking Mingi with him, leaving you and Wooyoung alone, well as alone as you can be in a crowded room.

“I didn’t think you’d come” “I thought about it, trust me” you only half joked, parties really weren’t your thing. “Well I’m glad you did, my night just got a whole lot better” he said as he gave you a sweet smile. You could’ve swore your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening slightly at his comment. Wow this boy was smooth. “I’m sure your night was just fine without me” you teased as you tried to play off your mini panic. “Sure, it was fine, but now it’s better.” You just started at him, trying to push your butterflies deep, deep down. What the heck was up with this guy and why were you so affected by him?

Wooyoung smiled at your reaction, trying to push his own butterflies to the side, but he really couldn’t, not when you were staring at him all cutely. He had to fight back the urge to pinch your cheeks, crossing his arms to help him out a bit. He was just as confused as you were, he had never felt so… interested by anyone like this before, it made his heart pound in his chest.

You quickly averted your gaze to try and stop the heat spreading to your cheeks, and that’s when you noticed your two friends had abandoned you for some guys from your psychology class, Hongjoong and Seonghwa you think their names are. “Well that’s rude” “you mumbled under your breath, and Wooyoung heard you, following your gaze before laughing. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” he said. He placed his hand on the small of your back and you quickly jumped away, feeling like you had been shocked.

The two of you stared at each other. Did he feel it too? Wooyoung, out of curiosity, looked down at your wrist, only to see it covered with a copious amount of bracelets. You too, looked at his wrist and you felt the urge to vomit when you saw the same little heart scar that you had stared at every day since you were nine on his wrist. It had to be a coincidence, right? It didn’t matter, you suddenly felt hot, like someone had set you on fire and your breathing became uneven and heavy, you had to get out of there. Quickly turning on your heels, you rushed out of the apartment, rushing down the stairs to get as far away as you could.

Wooyoung was hot on your heels though, following behind you as soon as you left. “Y/n, Y/n slow down” Wooyoung called after you. The look on your face before you ran out had him so worried. Your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as your breathing started to pick up, he just wanted to know you were okay.

After running for a while, the thoughts in your head running rampant, you became light headed. You could barely stand up straight anymore, scraping both your palms and knees as you fell to the sidewalk. Wooyoung felt his heart drop when you fell and rushed to your side as quickly as he could. “Hey Y/n, you okay, just breath. In and out like this, can you do that?” “N-no- I- too much” “Y/n, hey Y/n look at me.” Wooyoung cupped your face, forcing you to look at him as he helped you calm down.

He knew then that you were his soulmate, because he could feel all of it, the light headedness, the heart racing, the fear that had built up in the pit of his stomach, he knew. So once you were calm and in his arms, he let out a shaky sigh, holding you a bit tighter as he looked down at you. He had dreamed about meeting his soulmate for so long, never did he imagine that his soulmate would get a panic attack upon finding out. All he wanted was for you to feel safe and happy around him, not scared and vulnerable.

The two of you sat there in silence on the side of the sidewalk for about 30 minutes, he still held you in his arms and you allowed him, feeling an odd sense of comfort from his hold. The two of you would get strange looks from passerbyers but you didn’t care, not right now.

“Thank you” were the first words out of your mouth as you pulled away to look at him. Wooyoung just nodded, keeping his hand on your back, rubbing it gently as if to reassure you. “I should go home” you said quietly as you stood up, “let me walk you” “you don’t-” “I’m not letting you walk alone at night.” His voice was gentle, but his tone also told you there was no room for argument, he was going to make sure you got home safe.

The entire walk was silent, Wooyoung was trying to figure out what to say to you. How was he meant to start a conversation with his soulmate who seemed so freaked out about having a soulmate? Wooyoung wanted to let out a loud groan of frustration and fall to the floor like a toddler throwing a fit, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to look over at you, letting a small sigh fall from his lips. “Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung finally speaks, making you stop to look at him. You nod, having a feeling you knew what he was going to ask. “Why are you so afraid” “I’m not” he gave you an unamused look before holding up his wrist. “I can feel what you feel, remember?” Damn this stupid fucking bond, you mentally cursed. You know he deserved an answer, he was your soulmate and was equally affected by whatever was going on in your life as you were, but you didn’t know him, you didn’t feel comfortable opening up to him, not yet. “Will you be mad if I tell you I can’t tell you” “can’t or won’t” “won’t” you answered truthfully. Wooyoung let out a soft sigh before shaking his head, “I won’t be mad, if you're not comfortable I’m not going to push you-” There was a beat of silence as he ran his hand through his hair as he tried to calm down his frustration. “Will you tell me eventually?” “I don’t know… I hope so” you answer truthfully. That seems to be enough for Wooyoung as he nods and takes your hand in his, motioning for you to lead the way.

It had been two days since the party and you hadn’t seen Wooyoung since, and for some reason, it was killing you. You felt like a total sellout, just a week ago you were perfectly content with never meeting your soulmate, barely giving the idea a thought, but now? Now you felt like you needed to see him. You had heard about this from other people with the soulmate mark, they say that once you meet your soulmate, all you want is to be around them, you thought that was utter bull shit, until now.

Yeosang and Mingi still didn’t know, and you weren’t about to tell them. You knew that once you did they would tell you how much of an idiot you were being. All you had to do was talk to him, get to know him and then maybe explain why you think soulmates are overrated, but you were scared that you would break around him, and give into the system you despised.

“It’s been two days, you need to get out of bed” Yeosang stated as he yanked your covers off you. “What even happened, why are you so moppy” Mingi asked as he helped Yeosang get you to stand. “Nothing” you mumbled, allowing them to push you into the bathroom so you could brush your teeth and get ready for class. “Come on Y/n, we’re not dumb, we know what’s going on.” You turned to Yeosang with wide eyes, he knew? How? “You’ve done nothing but stare at your soulmate mark for the past two day. So…” “so what” you replied, quickly turning back around to rinse out your mouth. “Who is it bitch” Mingi shouted as he turned you around to look at him. “No one, stop being weird” you tried to dismiss them and walk out but Yeosang blocked the door, staring straight into your eyes. “Who is it” “Who is it” they asked one after another, over and over again until they were basically chanting it in your ear. “Stop it! It’s Wooyoung, god it’s Wooyoung you freaks!” You shouted, quickly pushing past them to go back into your room.

“Wooyoung! The guy who invited us to that party?” Mingi exclaims with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us” “because I knew you guys were going to freak out” “obviously! You found your soulmate that’s huge!” You just shook your head, he didn’t get it, after all these years he still didn’t understand. “Yeosang, I don’t want a soulmate” “no you don’t want an artificial, showy love” “wha-” “Y/n, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been nothing but closed off and reserved when it comes to the idea of soulmate, but I see you when you see couples, real couples walk down the street, or when you watch those cheesy rom coms or dramas. You want to be loved” Yeosang all but shouts at you. He loves you and he wants nothing but the best for you, but sometimes you could be so stubborn. “You’re afraid of your soulmate using you and your relationship for attention” “I- shut up” you pout, you hate how he knows you so well, it’s sickening.

Yeosang chuckles and takes a seat next to you on your bed, “so, it looks like you have two options, keep pretending that love is gross and disgusting and is the root of all evil, or you can share your concerns to Wooyoung and hope he understands” “what if he doesn’t?” Your voice is so small you ask the question, because you were terrified he wouldn’t, that the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life would ignore your worries and brush them and you off. “Then me and Mingi will go have a little talk with him and you’ll never have to see him again” Mingi nods rapidly, showing you that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, neither of them would. “You guys suck, you know that'' you tease, allowing Yeosang to pull you into a hug. He hums in response, pulling you closer to ease your anxiety.

You stood in front of Wooyoung’s apartment, eyes trained on the door as you worked up the courage to knock. Which was proving to be a lot harder than you thought. You bring your hand up to the door, fist ready to knock, but you don’t you just stand there- until the door opens. You pull your hand back and step back quickly, you weren’t expecting anyone to open the door. San smiles at you, “you can go in, his room is the last door on the right” “thank you” you mumbled, quietly slipping in as San leaves, probably to attend one of his classes.

Knocking on Wooyoung’s door is a lot easier than knocking on the front door. “Go away” sounds tired and it hurts to think you caused that. “I can’t do that Wooyoung” you respond. In no time at all he’s standing in front of you with wide eyes. His hair is a bit messy and his shirt is on backwards, but he still managed to look so god damn good. Pushing that thought aside, you give him a weak smile, and he returns it, stepping out and closing his door. “I would say let’s talk in my rooms but it’s a bit of a mess right now” you giggle, nodding as you follow him to the living room.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing out of your mouth, “for what?” He seems genuinely confused. Wooyoung didn’t think you did anything wrong, he knew you needed space, it was just giving you that space was harder than he thought. “Y/n you have nothing to be sorry for” he reassures, gently rubbing your knee.You look at him and suddenly your fears of him not understanding melt away, in the short time you knew him, he’s probably the most understanding man you had ever met. He was sweet and kind and caring, how could you think he wouldn’t understand.

So you tell him everything, from how you feel that soulmate love feels fake, artificial, that no one tries, to your fear that he might use you as a way to get attention from others. And He listens, he listens to it all, never once interrupting you, encouraging you to take your time when you struggle to get the words out. He even wiped your tears when you started crying, hell he even started crying himself.

“Y/n-” He speaks up after you finish. He takes your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, “-I know my words won’t be enough to reassure you, so I’ll show you” he smiles. When you give him a confused look he smiles even harder, “I will show you that love isn’t superficial and I’ll show you that I will never use you, because I would never want to hurt you Y/n.” He speaks with so much sincerity that it overwhelms you, causing tears to effortlessly fall from your eyes. “All I have ever wanted was for my soulmate to be happy, and if I can make you happy, I will” Your body reacts before your brain can and you're immediately on him, hugging him so tightly as you let your happy tears flow freely. You don’t say anything, and neither does he, but you don’t have to, because both of you know that everything will be alright, as long as you’re together.

“Awww!” Wooyoung doesn’t let go of you as the two of you turn to see the owner of the voice. “Yun, you have terrible timing dude” Wooyoung grumbles to his roommate Yunho. “I’m sorry but that was just so sweet-” “get out” Wooyoung whined as he pulled you closer, making you laugh. Yunho mocks Wooyoung before giving you a joking bow, “it was nice to meet you Y/n” he says as he playfully winks. Wooyoung chases his friend out of the room before returning back to you. “Movie?” He questions and you nod, smiling up at him, “a movie sounds nice.”

#jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung au #soulmate au #soulmate #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez soulmate au #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop au #kpop soulmate au

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Note

YOURE BACK! I hope you’re feeling better and more yourself!!

Can I request a real fluffy one for blurb night where you and Tom meet on a family holiday (you with your fam him with his) and become like pen pals with FaceTiming and texting cos you live on opposite ends of England and he falls for you when he doesn’t mean to? (Bonus points for my main man Harry being a wingman!)

A/N: I am honestly, feeling like a new person!! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Swearing.

You'd met Tom last year, you were both on family holidays and met in the hotels bar, you met multiple times throughout your two weeks stay. You got on really well, so well you agreed to keep in contact.

"I go home tomorrow." You said as Tom placed a drink in front of you.

"Me too." Tom said as he placed himself next to you and took a sip of his drink. "So, where are you heading back to?" He asked as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

"Manchester." You said and he smiled.

"No way, London." He informed, you'd not actually discussed where you lived yet.

"You still live in London?" You asked in disbelief, you'd assumed he'd live in America now being a huge star.

"Yeah, I mean I have a house in America but I only use it when I'm filming and for holidays. London is where I live." He said, his arm sliding around the back of your seat. "I'm gonna miss you." He said and it was honest, genuine.

"I'm sure you'll forget about me soon enough." You said, a hint of sadness to your tone.

"Oh no darling, I don't think so." He said and you smiled as your brother joined you both, conversation shifting onto something different.

You kept in touch, he texted you an incredible amount and facetimed you at least once a week. You expected it to dry up as he forgot about you, but that never happened. You were currently on one of your face time calls.

"When are you gonna come down to London?" He asked, he was sat in bed, hair a mess from his sleep as he' just woken up. "Also, what the hell is on your face?"

"It's a face mask, need to get rid of those spots." You huffed, face green from your products.

"Oh, I thought you were trying out for the hulk." He teased.

"Arsehole." You huffed through a laugh.

"I know, I'm sorry," he laughed as he shifted his arm to behind his head. You had to stop yourself swooning as his bicep bulged. "Anyway, London." He brought the topic back to where he wanted it.

"Tom, you're not even in London, why would I go there now?"

"I'm back in like a week, meet me?"

"I can't just ditch my job."

"I've already said you should move into our house with the boys." He suggested, he brought this up at least once a month.

"My family though." You laughed.

"Shit, yeah. We need to work something out." He concluded and you nodded, conversation turning to what you had planned for the week.

Tom almost felt sad as he ended the call with you, sleep threatening to pull you under after, three hours, Tom realised as he checked the timing on his phone. He dropped his phone onto his bed as Harry knocked on the door and came in.

"On the phone with Y/N?" He asked as he entered, Tom firing a good night text your way as you fired back a good morning, have an amazing day. He smiled at his phone before looking at Harry.

"Yeah."

"You asked her out yet?" Harry teased and Tom furrowed his brows.

"No."

"Oh come on Tom, you are completely in love with her."

"Will you just drop it. I don't think it'll work out. I can't even get her to come to London." Tom groaned and Harry huffed as he sat next to his brother.

"And why does she have to come to London? Why don't you go to her?" He suggested.

"I can't just ask to go to hers."

"Then don't ask." Harry smirked.

Tom: Change of plan x

You furrowed your brows as you recieved the vague text message, asking him to explain himself in response.

Tom: It'd be really amazing if you opened your front door for me x

You were filled with confusion, what was he on about? You ultimately couldn't help yourself as you made your way to your front door, opening it. You almost gasped as you were met with Tom, smile on his face and a suitcase in hand.

"Hope you don't mind, wanted to surprise you, changed my flight pattern." Your heart soared, you were absolutely in love with the curly haired boy and this gesture didn't help your situation.

"How did you know where I lived?" You asked in disbelief.

"I remember from when I sent you that bracelet on your birthday." He smiled as you moved to let him in, your hand instinctively grasping the small chain around your wrist.

"How long are staying for?" You asked and he turned around with a shrug.

"As long as you'll have me."

Having Tom around was fun, showing him all your favourite things and places. He'd been at yours for almost three weeks, your sofa-bed becoming his own, you wondered when he'd grow bored and head home but he never did.

"Can I ask you something?" Tom pulled you from your thoughts, you were sat on your couch, a bottle of white wine had already been shared between you.

"Always." You answered, feet curled beneath your bum, elbow resting on the back of the couch, head planted in your hand.

"Do you have a boyfriend? Anyone you're talking to?"

"No. You?"

"No, do you have anyone you've got your sights on?"

"Yeah." You admitted, "you?"

"Yeah."

"Lucky lady." You laughed and he joined.

"I'm sure whoever you're gunning for is luckier." He said and you felt a wave of boldness wash over you, what did you have to lose? If he didn't feel the same at least you wouldn't bump into him on the street, right?

"He'll never know, he likes someone else."

"How do you know?" He asked, heart hammering in your chest as you went for it.

"Because he just told me so." You admitted and Tom raised his eyebrows.

"I don't remember him saying anything about who he liked."

"He's a Hollywood actor, I doubt it'd be me he was talking about."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He whispered and you wondered at what point you'd gotten so close, when the distance between you had become non existent. Faces close.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"We're both on the same page here?" You asked, hoping you hadn't grossly misread this situation.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

"I think I'm in love with you to." You admitted.

"Can I?" He asked eyes flicking to your lips.

"Please." You begged. He smiled as his lips met yours, your heart bursting from your chest as he did. You shifted closer to him wrapping your arms around his neck as he placed his on your waist. You both pulled back for air after a moment. His forehead finding your own.

"I wanna make this work." He said, hand on your cheek.

"Me too." There was no reason why it wouldn't, you'd made enough time for each other as friends, surely you'd make enough time for each other as partners.

#tom holland blurb #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

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mvnvgedmischief · 3 years

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 10/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse, eating disorders

words: 2. 7k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Remus tried not to notice. He tried not to notice the scars up and down Sirius’s body. He tried not to notice the thin, horizontal scars on Sirius’s wrists, or the cross-crossing faded bruises down his back. He pretended not to feel the slight tremor in the other man when he moved the wrong way, and that he couldn’t feel the way Sirius’s heart raced when his hands met another scar.

Sirius pretended not to notice. He pretended he didn’t notice that the bracelet on Remus’s wrist was from a hospital, or the ring-shaped scabbing on his right arm. He definitely pretended not to notice that his scars got more raised the further down his body that he looked, or that Remus flinched when Sirius lifted his hand or the way that when it was all over, Remus looked desperate for some aftercare.

When they had finished their activities, Sirius collapsed beside Remus. His bleary eyes were focused on the man’s mop of curls, barely visible in the dark. He didn’t even think before pulling Remus into his arms, eyes resting closed. It felt so comforting as soon as he did, that when it registered that he probably shouldn’t have, but he wasn’t going to stop now. Not when Remus felt so warm and he was so fucking cold. “Your chest feels so boney. Terrible pillow.” Remus joked, his eyes closed comfortably.

“Didn’t realize I was a bad pillow. Feel free to select another instead.” Sirius chuckled in response. His heart was definitely not racing in his chest. He was not terrified of another test. That would be too crazy of him, too paranoid. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, Sirius.” He yawned. Remus meant it. Something about Sirius was sticking, in a way, Remus hadn’t felt in a long time.

He remembered what it was like. He remembered just how good it felt when everything was new. He remembered the flowers sent to hospital rooms, the driving to doctor’s appointments, and holding his hand. He remembered just how strong and rough Fenrir’s hands had always felt in his own. He remembered the soft touches and the quiet mornings and the gentle tutting every time Remus stumbled. But that was how it always started, wasn’t it?

There was always calm before a hurricane. Fenrir had been a category 5 hurricane, that started off the coast as a moderate tropical storm. At first, it was just manipulation. He was the jealous type, he’d been hurt before, of course, he didn’t want Remus talking to anyone he had previously been interested in. Of course, he thought Lily was overbearing, he didn’t feel secure in how much Remus cared for him. Of course, he didn’t want to hang out with Remus’s friends, they were too immature.

But storms tend to gain speed, and Fenrir was no different. Of course, Fenrir didn’t want to spend time with them slowly became of course Remus shouldn’t spend time with them. It was a subtle shift, to begin with. Some emergency always came up when Remus had plans with his friends. Whether it was Fenrir having a crisis about his schooling, and asking Remus to help, or Fenrir needing to get somewhere and asking Remus for a ride. Something always came up.

I need a rides turned into if you don’t come home right now I’m not sure what will happen, to if you don’t come home now I’m going to beat you, to if you don’t come home now I’m going to kill myself, and Remus didn’t remember when the winds started blowing 180 kilometers per hour. It always happened like this. Slowly, and then all at once. He woke up one day and realized he had cut off all of his friends, and suddenly the loving glances they once shared were filled with disdain. Suddenly his wrists were always sore from Fenrir’s grip.

Lupus definitely didn’t help. God, it was such a convenient excuse. Remus remembered how often he used that as an excuse not to see anyone. He blamed his lupus every time he bailed, every time he was too hurt to go to class, every time he found himself in a hospital room. What Remus didn’t remember though, was when he and Fenrir went from category four to category five. When did the storm surges become six meters high and red with his blood? When was the shift? Had this man, the doctorate student who caught his eye in a freshman seminar, always been that violent?

He remembered some days when they fought. He remembered the first time Fenrir wrapped his hands around his neck. He remembered the first time that he brought out the knife. He remembered the first fight they had when Fenrir thought he should go to the hospital for a flare-up. How were those the same man?

Remus always struggled, in the beginning, to see all of the red flags Lily had. He wasn’t very good at letting people take accountability, or letting them be wrong. He made so many excuses for Fenrir. He made excuses for all of the bruises, he made excuses for all of the tears. The excuses only stopped when the protective order came out. The protective order was a big deal. Suddenly this wasn’t a quiet fight in private quarters, between two adults in a relatioship. When the protective order happened, it became public. Remus couldn’t sweep it under the rug anymore.

He didn’t think, before that court order, that anyone really knew what was going on. But when Fenrir broke his nose, and dragged that knife across his body, it was over. He wasn’t sure what set it all off on the day all of that destruction began. Sure, Fenrir had beaten him to all hell before. He had even pulled the knife out before. But on that day, something had gone incredibly wrong.

It started off like any other day in his life. He was up early in the morning, and made Fenrir’s coffee as soon as he woke up. He had a writing seminar in the morning, and wanted to get as much done during that hour and a half block as possible. Finals were approaching quickly, and he needed to keep his grades up. He called out that he was leaving, and as he gathered his laptop and notebook, Fenrir came barreling into the room. A punch to the face, and he was out. When he came too again he had no idea where he was. He was locked in that place for three days, before the police, and Lily, came barreling in to rescue him. He was bruised and bloody, and his skin would never be the smooth, pale, freckled canvas it was before that fateful weekend. He would never be the same.

When Remus woke up, he was nauseated. He found himself stumbling to the bathroom, ejecting the contents of his stomach the way his mind ejected so many memories. He felt shaky, weak, and terrified. How had he gotten here? Where was he? Sirius’s flat looked nothing like the house Fenrir had locked him in, but in his mind’s eye, it was all he could see. His knees would bruise, from the violence with which he fell to them. His eyes welled with tears, his torso burned like the wounds were still open, and he was sweating but so cold.

His shaking hands grasped the toilet seat, knuckles white from how hard he was holding on. He didn’t understand. Why did he feel like this? Where was he?

But then the door of the bathroom clicked shut, and he felt his shoulders rise, and his blood ran cold. Was Fenrir here? Was he standing right behind him?

“Can I touch you?” The voice sounded so far away. But it was smooth, like a river, with gravel like the pebbles at the bottom of the stream. It sounded so comforting. Fenrir had never sounded like that. He sounded like a knife sharpening, always quick and careful. This voice was different. It felt calmer. And it asked if he could be touched to boot. Fenrir had never asked. He just took and took and took, until there was nothing left of Remus to give. When that happened, Fenrir tried to break him. He deserved to rot for what he did.

“I - um -” Remus began, and he didn’t recognize his own voice. He sounded so small, so scared. It had been so long since he sounded like that. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. What had tipped him off like this? Where was he? What was going on?

“If the answer is no, that’s okay, Re. I noticed you were touch motivated before. It’s okay if that’s not the case right now.”

It was a tiny little nickname, but it felt like honey in between his ears. If only he could turn around, if only he could look and see that he wasn’t back in that house, that he was safe, that Sirius could help. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look away from the water swirling in the toilet bowl, because he was terrified. He could hear his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel his stomach lurching, because he couldn’t remember. He could’t remember the last time this happened. He couldn’t remember where he was. He couldn’t remember who was standing behind him. He felt paralyzed. So he did what he had been taught to do.

“I don’t mind. Do whatever.” He closed his eyes tight, to brace himself for the contact, but it never came. Instead, there’s a wet towel draped over his hand. It was cool and soft, and the sensation gave him something to hold on to. He couldn’t be in that house. Fenrir never would’ve taken no for an answer.

“You’re safe here, Re. He’s not here. He can’t hurt you.”

Those few words felt so comforting. He felt his mind clicking back into place, and suddenly his surroundings came flooding back to him. At least, that was how it felt to him. In reality, it took something to the tune of fourty five minutes of Remus staring into the abyss of water in front of him, before he finally shifted away from the toilet, and turned to face Sirius. The rag was twisted up and wrung out in his hands, and the sweatpants that hung low on his hips had developed a wet spot from the dripping. But it didn’t matter to Sirius. None of it did. Remus’s mental state was too important, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I-uh- thanks.” Remus mutters, eyes trained on the ground all over again. Fuck, he was embarassed. He couldn’t believe he just fucked things up with Sirius so royally. How was he supposed to impress the man now, when he had just lost his dinner over someone who haydn’t been in the picture in years? How would he ever make up the ground he lost.

“What are your comfort shows?”

Well that came out of left field. How was Remus supposed to react to a question like that? What did that have to do with anything, anyways? He wasn’t even sure he knew the answer, before something was slipping out.

“Y Dywysoges a'r Bwgan,” He whispered, arms wrapped around his knees. He felt so small, so stupid, sitting there.

“I don’t– I don’t think I know how to spell that. Would you mind putting it on?”

Remus nodded mutely, but made no move to get up. He heard Sirius ask him if he could touch him again, and this time, he nodded once more. He couldn’t move. He felt paralyzed. But then Sirius is wrapping him in his long arms, and scooping him up off of the ground.

Sirius would regret this. He knee it as soon as it all started. He knew he would regret having Remus sleep over. He knew he would regret getting involved. He definitely knew he would regret carrying him to the couch, from the black spots threatening his vision, to the way his joins cracked ungratefully. He knew this would be a problem. But he couldn’t help it. Not when he knew Remus would try to comfort him if he went through something similar. Not when he knew Remus comforted him when he was terrified earlier.

He throws himself down on the couch, bringing Remus down in the process. His arms don’t unravel from around the smaller man, still holding him tight in an embrace. He’d regret that too, he was sure of it. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go. So instead, he reaches for the remote, and hands it to Remus. He just wanted to help. That was all he was doing. Helping.

Remus put on the movie, eyes unfocused and distant. He didn’t appear to be seeing the movie, but his mouth moved along as though he was lip-synching every word. With all of his trauma, he must have the whole thing memorized by now, the same way that Regulus had the first few episodes of Between the Lions, or Sirius had fraggle rock memorized. It wasn’t all that different from the nights Sirius and Regulus shared on that couch, trying to cope with all of their great losses. The only real difference was the comfort content. This was in welsh, and Sirius didn’t pretend to understand it. Instead, he disentangled Remus from his arms, and leaned down to rest his head on the arm rest of the couch. He was exhausted, and for as much as he wanted to help, his eyes were fighting him with every passing moment. Maybe a few minutes of rest would help? Maybe it would re-energize him.

When his silver eyes reopened, it was 3:30, and the bright light of the TV set felt staggering. He looked across the couch, and Remus was leaned back, eyes closed once more, and head on the top of the couch like a headrest. Again, Sirius decided to make a regrettable choice. He carried Remus back to his bed, even though his vision continued to threaten to fail. He just wanted to help, and he hoped that was what he was doing. He hoped that the remained of the night was restful and calm. All he wanted was one good night of sleep, for all of them. All he wanted was a night that was unremarkable.

It felt like it could be, when he laid in bed beside Remus, and let his eyes fall closed. It felt almost like he was normal. Like he was just some guy in bed with his.... Something. Not boyfriend– even in his monotonous fantasies, that was too much commitment. But a soft place to fall? That was something he fantasized about consistently. Someone who could handle the chaos, who would be able to stay. Someone who could see through him (just enough, never too much), who could understand him. Someone who listened and cared. That was all Sirius had ever really wanted in the first place. His parents never cared, and he had only ever wanted their approval. Now he was desperate to cling to the idea that no one would approve, because Sirius couldn’t handle the pressure of confronting his self destruction. So instead, he didn’t. He let his grey eyes fall shut, and his mind wander slowly off the deep end of rest. Finally, he’d be able to have some peace.

He didn’t know that in his sleep, he had rolled over and thrown an arm around Remus. But for an outsider looking in, it was completely innocuous. Affection to a person in his own bed? Completely unremarkable. Exactly what he wanted.

#unremarkable days #my shit #marauders #sirius x remus #wolfstar #poet x artist au #poet remus #artist sirius #marauders au #marauders fic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar au

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

CALIFORNIA KING || CHUBBY!BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Chubby!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 6,429 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, hand job, bad language words

authors note: here we are! chubs is finally here! we’re set back in Virginia in the 60s in this one, but we’re not acknowledging the bullshit of the time period. i write to get away from real world issues, and i like the clothes in this decade. you will also notice a few characters from a certain show called Lovecraft Country, because, well, I like them a lot too. please enjoy.

line divider by, you guessed it, @firefly-graphics (they’re all so pretty)

Virginia, 1964

Your heels click along the pavement as you move towards the small diner in the middle of town. The sun is high and hot, the beams beating down on your bare shoulders as you adjust your yellow rimmed sunglasses over your face. Your white purse swings off the tips of your fingers, your bracelet, a present from Bucky, clinking softly against your watch, (another present from Bucky), as you move with confidence.

Your sister Ruby moves quietly behind you, her eyes out in front, scanning the sidewalk and street as the two of you go, “You shouldn’t come out dressed like that.” She huffs in your direction as she catches the eye of two older white women moving in your direction.

You turn your head towards her and then glance at the women walking past you, their eyes dropping down to your slightly exposed midriff, then your high waisted, navy blue shorts. You push your sunglasses down your nose and maintain eye contact with them as the two women move by.

“I’m not worried about these small town hicks.” You answer loudly, turning around to walk backward so you can keep your eyes on them, “I am free to dress how I please, thank you.”

Ruby shakes her head as she laughs sarcastically, “You never did know how to act.”

“It is 1964. They just need to get the fuck over it - we are here. This is just as much our town as it is theirs.” You spit, tossing your short hair slightly, “Plus, not everybody here is like them.”

Ruby closes her eyes and holds up her hands, completely uninterested in what you’re about to say, “You are playing with fire with that sheriff,” she hisses quietly, “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

You shrug defiantly, “Fine, then don’t. Let’s just get our rootbeer floats and not argue for once, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” You seethe, flicking your wrist towards her, ending the quick squabble. You grab the door handle and pull open the door to the diner, stepping to the side to allow your sister to pass, “After you.”

Ruby cuts her eyes towards you and smirks unenthusiastically before she crosses through the threshold. You roll your eyes and follow in behind her, removing your sunglasses and shoving them in your purse as you follow her to the front counter. The two of you sit side by side, Ruby smoothing her hands over her green, pleated swing dress, you waving down the young waiter.

“Afternoon ladies, it’s a hot one, huh?” he asks nicely, smiling at the two of you as he slides menus in your direction.

“It is, thank you,” you start, glancing over the menu, “I think I’m going to have a burger and fries, with a rootbeer float.”

“Great choice, and you, Ruby?”

She smiles, handing her menu back to him, “An olive loaf sandwich please. Potato chips, and a rootbeer float as well.”

“I’ll have it right up ladies.”

He disappears into the back and you and Ruby fall into your usual rhythm, practically ignoring each other. The front door chimes as a group of women move inside, their giggles filling the relatively quiet diner. You eye them as they move by, catching the glance of one Dottie Bodecker, your arch nemesis since grade school. Her blonde hair swings back and forth behind her head as she smiles at you, wiggling her manicured fingers as her group moves to the end of the long bar, taking up four seats.

“So Dottie,” you hear one of the brunettes start, “Do you think tonight’s the night? You think Sheriff Barnes is going to ask you to go with him to his re-election fundraiser?”

You flick your eyes towards them, drawing in a deep breath at the sound of his name. Dottie turns her head towards you, her blue eyes linking with yours where she smiles quickly before turning back to her friends, “I think so.” She answers cheerfully, another giggle escaping her lips, “We have been getting so close lately. I really think he’s gonna ask me to start going steady.”

You scoff loudly before laughter falls from your lips. Ruby hits your leg underneath the counter as you pull out a cigarette and place it between your lips, lighting it. You feel their eyes on you as you flick the butt of the cigarette, ridding it of the ash that’s built up and take another slow drag. You keep your eyes forward, not wanting to engage because you know if you engage -

“Here we go ladies,” the waiter says, cutting through your thoughts, “A burger and fries, an olive loaf with potato chips, and two rootbeer floats. Enjoy.”

Heat blooms across your skin as anger starts to brim just below the surface. You and Dottie have had the same common goal for almost six months - Sheriff James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The anger in you makes you start to wonder why the two of you are warring over him in the first place. He’s ten years older than the both of you, has a nasty divorce behind him, and by the sight of his tummy, he’s enjoyed one too many slices of Ambrosia cake. To you and Dottie though, he might as well be Marlon Brando.

It’s the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles. The way his nose scrunches when he smiles really big. It’s the softness in his voice when he says your name. The shyness that controls him whenever he’s come to bring you a flower. It’s the way he’s a dreamer - how he promises you a little house out in the middle of nowhere, complete with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. A couple of kids. A big old bed where he promises to always keep you pleased.

He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen - the softest and the sweetest too.

“Just relax and eat your food.” Ruby whispers, squeezing your knee, “She’s just trying to get your goat.”

You flick the butt of your cigarette again, “Well, she fucking got it.” You sigh, grabbing a french fry and biting it angrily.

Dottie continues to gab to her friends loudly, Bucky and I this, Bucky and I that - deep down you know it’s bullshit. He spends too much time sniffing around you to give her the type of attention she’s trying to convince her friends of, but it still gets under your skin. You eat slowly, your lips pursed, your eyes staring a hole into the wall in front of you, your hearing absolutely piqued.

“Did I tell you he drove me home from work the other day?” Dottie says, running her hand over her ponytail as her lips curl into another smile behind her red painted lips, “He even stayed for dinner.”

“Well, your meatloaf is to die for, Dottie. He would have been crazy not to stay!”

You cut your eyes over towards them again just as Dottie leans into her friends, glancing around to see if anyone is listening (as if she honestly cares), “Did I also mention that he stayed the night?”

You slam your balled fist onto the counter, rattling the plates and cups and silverware that sit on the bar. All four heads of Dottie’s group snap towards you, Ruby’s eyes going wide as her mouth drops open.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Dottie asks sweetly, venom dripping from every word.

You lift your hand and plaster a fake smile on your face, scrunching your nose as you shrug, “I’m quite alright, Dottie. Just um, dropped my fork is all.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, placing her gloved hand to her chest, “That must be a heavy fork.”

“Not as heavy as my fist will be against your -”

“We’re fine,” Ruby cuts in, a bright smile on her face as she nods towards Dottie, “Thank you for askin’, Dottie.”

Dottie smiles again as she tips her head towards Ruby, “You are very welcome, Miss Ruby.”

“Fake ass bitch.” You growl under your breath, prompting a hard pinch on your thigh,”Ow!”

“Just,” Ruby starts, widening her eyes at you, “Eat. Your. Food.”

You take another angry bite of your french fry and cut your eyes towards the glass door, staring out onto the street as you flick your cigarette again. Sheriff James Buchanan Barnes has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

-----

You sway your hips back and forth as your hair falls into your face. The music is loud, thumping even, as Ruby and her band plays up on the stage. An arm is thrown around your waist, pulling your closer as the two of you dance - chest to back, hips tucked into your behind. You laugh as you throw your arm around his neck and dip down low, a wider smile breaking onto your face as he moves with you.

The two of you push back up where you spin around to face him, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up on your thighs as you continue to shake your hips. You throw the material of your expensive, new dress, and then swish it around, before you drop it to raise your hands in the air and spin back around.

That’s when you see them.

Those eyes.

Those deep set, deep blue orbs that always seem to find you when in the middle of a crowd. His lips are set in a hard line, his cheeks red, his jaw tight. He sucks his teeth as he leans his elbow on the bar. He blinks, slowly, cutting his eyes towards the bartender just long enough to grab the shot that’s handed to him before they are back on you, watching you grind against the stranger behind you.

Too damn bad for him.

You grab the man’s hand and pull it tighter around your waist, keeping your smaller hand on top of his as you dip slowly down to the floor again - your eyes never leaving the sheriff’s. You break the eye contact with him to glance over your shoulder as a devilish smile curls onto your painted lips as the two of you dance, your lips dangerously close to his. You push your behind into his hips and laugh when the man hoots and hollers before clapping his hands to the beat of the music.

You flick your eyes back to the sheriff’s just as he downs the brown liquid in the small glass in his hands and slams it on the counter, immediately asking for another. You smirk and wink at him before you turn in the man’s hands that are currently around your waist and away from the hard, angry eyes bearing into you.

“Boo!”

You spin to the side when a finger presses into your side and shriek when you come face to face with your little sister, “Leti!” You shout, wrapping your arms around her neck and swaying her back and forth, “I thought y’all said you wouldn’t be back from Chicago until next week! Tic! Come here!”

You release her to throw your arms around Leti’s boyfriend, Atticus Freeman’s neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to hug him tightly as he chuckles in your ear, “We just decided to cut it short, that’s all.” He answers.

“Yeah, right,” you smile, slapping him gently on his shoulder, “You two got into some trouble up there, didn’t you?”

“Never!” Leti exclaims as she smiles mischievously, holding up her hand, “And that’s scouts honor. Listen,” she says, glancing over her shoulder back towards the bar, “I’ve heard from a few people already. They’re saying that the sheriff is asking about you at the bar.”

“Well,” You wave her off, “You can tell them to tell him to mind his goddamn business.”

“Girl, you’ve got that man seething over there!” Tic laughs, “Askin’ how you know this fool,” he says, pointing towards your dancing partner, “What his name is, when he got into town, how long you been here tonight…”

You shrug defiantly, batting your eyes at the pair of people in front of you, “Not my problem.”

“You’ve got your nerve!” Leti laughs, “Who in their right mind antagonizes the goddamn sheriff?”

“The very same one who dates the goddamn sheriff.” Tic says, shaking his head, “Y’all’s mama gave y’all balls of steel.”

Leti rolls her eyes but smiles widely, grabbing your wrists and pulling you deeper into the mass of people. The three of you dance the hours away as Ruby keeps the small club rocking. You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, out of cigarettes, and slightly tipsy when Tic wants to get you and Leti home, so you relent without a fight.

You push out into the night air, the breeze instantly cooling your balmy skin. You giggle as Leti mumbles in your ear and take a few steps into the alley before you stop dead in your tracks. Sheriff Bucky leans against the brick building, his head turned towards the street but snapping back to you when he hears your familiar laughter. He pushes away from the wall and places his hands on his hips and utility belt where he taps his nervous, angry fingers.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, pushing it out of his nostrils harshly as he turns his head towards the building again, trying and failing to maintain a calm demeanor, “Tic, I wasn’t um, I wasn’t aware you were back in town. Welcome home, soldier.”

Tic shifts his eyes to you before he nods towards Bucky and takes his extended hand, “Thank you sheriff, that’s uh, that’s mighty kind of you.”

“You’re a brave man, fighting for this country. You let me know if anybody gives you any trouble, you hear? Ms. Lewis, how are you this evening?”

“Mighty fine, sheriff. Thanks for askin’.” Leti answers, offering him a soft smile. She knows what it’s like to be on the ass end of one of your fits.

You stare at him as he nods slowly, clearing his throat again before he shifts his eyes back to you. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head as you blink at him slowly and let out a hard breath. He drops his eyes down your body, then snaps them back up to yours, his lip slightly snarled the entire time.

He points at you quickly, before he drops his hand back to his belt and glances back at the building, “May I speak to you, please?” he asks, clearing his throat again.

“What for?”

He chuckles lightly, widening his eyes as he drops them to your feet, “You know what for.” he snaps, still tapping his fingers against his hips, “Please.”

You glance at Leti and Tic, whose eyes have settled on you after the quick tennis match between you and Bucky. You sigh again, “I’ll meet you guys at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Leti whispers, pushing up closer to you, “He looks mad.”

You roll your eyes, “I can handle him. I’ll be fine.”

Leti grabs Tic’s hand and moves past Bucky, “Have a good night, sheriff.”

“You as well, Ms. Lewis.” He glances over his shoulder as Tic and Leti move down the alley, and only turns back to face you once they’ve turned the corner, “You stood me up.” He spits angrily, pointing at you again.

You shrug, indifference written on your face, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean!” he hisses, taking a few steps towards you, “Damn it, I waited forty five minutes for you.”

“You get out of my face.” you scoff, pushing his shoulders roughly.

“So I spend all day worrying about you, only to find you here with some jerk’s hands all over you!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Spent all day worrying about me, did you? That’s rich.”

“Okay,” he barks, nodding quickly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “What is it? Huh? What did I do now?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! Please! Enlighten me.”

You cross your arms over your chest again, staring down the alley. You feel his eyes staring into the side of your face, waiting for you to speak.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Why don’t you ask Dottie Bodecker what you did wrong?” you hiss, snapping your head back to face him.

His face contorts in confusion, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Dottie Bodecker? The fuck she have to do with anything?”

“Her meatloaf is to die for, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up dramatically, turning and taking a few steps away from you. He spins back around seconds later, shaking his head, “If you don’t start saying what you mean, girl!”

“You slept with Dottie Bodecker a few nights back and I’m done letting you make a fool a’ me!” you scream as your eyes squint hard.

You brush past him, bumping his shoulder as you start down the alley, walking fast as you huff, the anger bubbling. You hear his heavy feet behind you, his keys jingling as he wraps his fingers around your bicep. You shrug away from him and whirl around, pointing your thin finger in his face, “Don’t you touch me.”

“I did not sleep with Dottie Bodecker!” He hisses, “Where are you getting that load of shit from?”

“From Dottie herself. She told the entire diner this afternoon!”

“Well she’s full of it!” He shouts back, “I didn’t touch that woman!”

“But you drove her home from work?” You ask, antagonizing him, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips again, “Yes. I drove her home. She flagged me down -” You start walking again, completely uninterested in hearing his sorry ass story, “Goddamn it. Listen to me!” He shouts, grabbing your arm again, “I did not touch that woman. I have never touched her. I promise you.”

“And why should I believe you? Huh?” You ask, breathing hard, your eyes wide and bouncing between his, “Tell me!”

“Because I love you!” He shouts loudly - so loudly that it makes you slam your mouth shut, “Goddamn it!”

You watch as he starts to pace, dragging his hand through his short, dark hair angrily before he drops it to his side. Because I love you! The words bounce around your brain as he places his hands back on his hips.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That’s the first time he’s said it.

He loves you.

“You know what?” he says after a moment, turning back to face you again, “You want to continue to play games with Dottie, you go right ahead, but you leave me out of it. I have been nothing but good to you, nothing but open, nothing but doting… I’m done, you hear me? Done. Keep playin’ your little goddamn games!”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes again as he walks off, tugging at the leather jacket covering his torso. He can barely zip the damn thing. You sigh and tilt your head as he turns around the front of the building as embarrassment starts to flood through you. Your skin heats up again, but this time from the feeling of turning out to be the asshole, which doesn't happen very often (it probably should.)

The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete bounces off the buildings as you move to the end of the alley, peaking around the corner to find his police car still sitting at the curb. You spot his head resting back on the seat and put your hands behind your back as you walk slowly towards the passenger side. You lean over and glance in the window, finding his eyes closed and his hands on the wheel as he breathes in and out, in and out, in and out.

You glance up and down the street before you knock on the window, “Can I get in?”

“No.”

You click your tongue and let your shoulders slump, “Come on, sheriff.”

You watch as he exhales hard and you have to drop your head so that he can’t see the smile that forms on your lips. He reaches over and pops open the door before he straightens up in the seat, keeping his eyes forward as you slide in next to him. You chew on your lip as you blink over at him, your eyes trailing down his bicep and forearm before you start playing with your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, your voice small and slightly playful.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He answers quick, holding up his hand.

You laugh a little but cover your mouth quickly with your thin fingers as he cuts his eyes towards you. He huffs again and you start to whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the roof, “Sheriff, look at me.”

“No.”

“Come on,” You laugh, “I said I was sorry.”

“And that’s just supposed to make this all better? Right? Just because you said you’re sorry?” he asks softly, turning to face you.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to your fingers again, “Yeah?”

He laughs earnestly at your sheer audacity. You smile, biting down into your bottom lip as you send your eyes toward him, your smile softening at the sight of him. The crinkles are back. His nose is scrunched, his eyes turned into slits as he laughs. You glance down between the two of you and see a bouquet of flowers on the floorboard.

His laughter dies down and he shakes his head as he lets out a sigh, “You are such a stubborn ass.”

“But that’s why you like me, right?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving around your face, “Maybe.” He answers softly.

You grab his hand and place it in your lap, your thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles. You blink at each other, all of the anger and agitation bleeding out of you both like it wasn’t even there to begin with. He squeezes your hand and rubs the tips of your fingers with his thumb before he leans over to kiss you softly.

You moan, your eyes closing instinctively as his pillow soft lips hit yours for the first time that day. Relief and calm washes through you as he massages your lips with his and loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You're soon pressed up against his wide chest and body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and to his back. You hug him tightly to you as the intensity builds quickly, his stomach pushing over his belt and pressing into yours. You hum as his thick fingers skip up your thigh, palming your flesh softly.

His lips fall to your neck, his head nudging yours upward to gain full access to your sensitive skin. He sucks lightly, making you tense and moan as a jolt of sensation shoots straight to your sex. You grip his shoulder softly as that wandering hand moves further up your thigh - right into your dress, where his fingertips brush against your warm, tingly sex.

“Sheriff,” You breathe, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward as you rub his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am?” He answers, his voice low and heady.

“Take me home and take advantage of me, please.”

His chuckle vibrates through your flesh. He nips at your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin, “As much as I’d love to darlin’, I’m on duty.” You groan in dissatisfaction, making him laugh again, “You shouldn’t have blown me off earlier, I could have taken care of you then.”

He pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers over your soft skin, where you shiver instantly. He pulls back so that he can watch your face as he pushes between your folds, stroking your slit gently, teasing you with just the tips of his fingers. You hiss and squeeze your legs together, jutting your hips forward to try and coax him inside.

He doesn’t take the bait.

But he wants to.

He glances over his shoulder behind the car and then out in front, finding the streets bare. He can hear the muffled sounds of Ruby’s band still going strong inside the small club. There’s been no calls over the radio in over an hour. He’s got time. He kisses your mouth quickly and pulls his hand from out of your dress to turn the key, bringing the loud engine to life, filling the silent night air with noise.

You push up onto your knees as he pulls away from the curb and throw your arms around his neck, your tongue sneaking out to lick just under his ear. You smile when you feel him shiver from the contact. You plant kisses on the side of his face and along his jaw before you blow softly into his ear, making him jump in his seat. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull softly as you drag your hand down his chest and over his soft stomach where you start to fumble with his belt.

The car speeds up suddenly as he jams his foot on the accelerator when your hand slithers into his pants. You laugh when expletives fall from his lips, the car swerving as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on the road in front of you. Pumping him slowly, you grab your bottom lip between your teeth again and rest your forehead against his temple. You breathe heavily into his ear, humming and moaning as you stroke him quickly, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip.

Bucky weaves you through the empty town and finally pulls up behind the police station, blending in with the small fleet of exactly two other police cars. He loops his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer - sitting you down on the seat. He grabs your calves and throws them over his thighs and rucks your dress up around your waist. He slips his fingers underneath the band of your panties and pulls roughly, slipping them right down your legs and over your heels to throw them into the backseat.

You squeak when his thick digits push into you, his thumb flattening against your clit. He starts to pump, slow and deep, his blue eyes scanning your face as he drags in air through his open mouth. You roll your hips into his hand as he strokes your walls and teases your clit, you hooking your arm around his neck. You sit up straighter and push your chest into his side, keeping one leg thrown over his thigh, and placing the other on the floorboard - leaving you spread open.

He kisses you quickly, moaning and then hissing as your hand continues to push along his shaft. He brushes his nose against yours, his warm breath washing over your face as you nuzzle right back into him, your mouth falling open as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“God, sheriff,” You rasp, your hand halting as he strokes your insides.

“What was that, darlin’?” He whispers, his words full but languid, “What’s my name, sweetheart?”

You tense, pushing your body up the back of the seat as you squeak again, his fingers pushing deeper and harder. You buck your hips into his hand, throwing your head back, your hair tickling the exposed skin of your back, “Oh, sheriff.” you pant.

“That’s right, you sweet little thing,” He coos, “You fuck my fingers, sweetheart.”

You hum before licking your lips slowly, “I want more than your fingers, sheriff,” you say, your words rushed and hot. You lean forward and kiss him hard, placing your hands on either side of his full face, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks.

You pull away after only a few seconds, dragging in ragged breaths, your chest heaving hard. Reaching behind your back, you pull on the zipper of your dress, the material falling away from your body - leaving you naked.

Bucky inhales sharply.

You lay back on the seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he twists and leans over you. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of your chest, right between your breasts and just leaves it there for a second as he blinks. You arch your back, rolling your shoulders and head when he sweeps his fingers down your sternum, stopping at your belly button. You grab his hand and bring it to your right breast, cupping your supple flesh as you force your back away from the seat again and suck the tip of his index finger into your mouth.

He pulls his hand away reluctantly - but keeps his eyes on you as he shrugs out of his leather jacket. He blinks slowly, pulling his eyes down your smooth, brown skin as his fingers work out the knot of his tie. He loosens it quickly and pulls off the thin clip before he yanks the tie over his head and discards it to the floor. He flattens his palm on the inside of your thigh and pushes it down to your sex, massaging you again as his free hand pops the buttons of his shirt.

Your mouth drops open as you purr at the sensations rippling through you as he touches you, his fingers soft and slow, “Bucky,” you keen.

He hears the desperation - the ache - the trembling need in your voice. He wants to satisfy it. All of it. All of you. He pushes his pants low on his hips, down to his knees before he adjusts his position between your legs, leaning over you further. You grip his sides as his stomach rests against yours, his cock pushing at your entrance.

His eyes wander again, away from your face and down your virtuous body, knowing he and he alone has been the only man to boast its yield, “You’re beautiful.” The words slip off his tongue like silk. He means it.

“You’re beautiful.” You return quickly, running your hands down his soft, wide chest.

You know he doesn’t believe it when you say it. Out loud, in this vulnerable position. All of him on display. Every little roll and crevasse for you to see - he isn’t Tic. He isn’t six foot something, with cannons for arms and a washboard stomach. He’s just a man, a simple man, in love with a beautiful, bold, mischievous woman.

You dig your fingers into his flesh as he enters you, spreading you. You thrust your chest towards his as you slam your eyes closed, gasping at the fullness - the completeness - you feel. Your body starts to lunge upward, your breasts pushing with the movement. His weight leaves you as he sits back on his knees, his hips still prodding as he draws your leg up onto his chest and shoulder, dropping kisses on your ankle.

There’s fingers around your throat, squeezing gently before they venture up your chin and into your mouth. You accept them willingly as he flattens his free hand to your chest again. You stretch your arm forward, slinking your thin digits up his arm to his bicep as his hips push, push, push into yours. Soft. Deliberate. Slow. Ravishing you in the only way you know - the only way you want.

The pressure builds in your stomach, steady and purposed. He knows it - he knows you. So, he grabs your hips, pulls them closer, your legs falling over his thighs, your feet sliding along the old leather seat as he fucks you. He leans over you again, knowing you like his weight on you. He digs his hips into yours - his cock plunging into your soft, accepting cunt as he watches you. Mouth hanging. Lips red. Breath heavy.

It’s a rhythm. An intricate dance the two of you have perfected over time. Pushing and pulling. Giving and taking. The windows are foggy with the heat your bodies have created - your skin damp; balmy. Little droplets of sweat beading between your breasts. His tongue is quick to rid you of them, the droplets, pushing out from behind his lips to lap at your skin. He’d do anything to please you.

Fingers tweak your thick nipples. Rough palms grip your hips. Deep groans, low hisses fill your ears. Soft words, pretty designations falling from his lips. Affirmations of love.

“I love you,” you pant, your words shuddering with each breath, “Bucky, I-”

“I know it, doll. I know it.”

You choke suddenly as the fire spreads without warning. Your orgasm rushes through you, burning a familiar path through your wilderness. Bucky fucks harder as you come - the sound of his skin slapping against yours growing louder, his grip on your hips harder.

He loves to hear you. Crying, screeching, mewling, howling as his body peels you apart, layer by layer. He loves to watch you - shuddering and trembling, hips jerking, toes curling. It’s all he needs, all he wants. He wraps his fingers loosely around your throat again and lets himself go, strained grunts accompanying your ungodly sounds as he starts to spurt over and over.

You flatten your feet against the seat and push your hips upward - still gasping, still jerking uncontrolled as the synapses continue to fire. The additional warmth he provides as he spills into you electrifies you. No other man will know the depths of you, will fill you with his seed. You’re ruined - and you like it that way.

He collapses on top of you when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Soft skin against soft skin. You instantly corral him in your arms, pushing your dainty fingers into his soft, brown hair as he nuzzles into your neck. Breath still hard and hot. You're sticky and he’s sticky, a satisfied haze drifting into your eyes and brain, lulling you.

He pulls you up with him seconds later, his eyes darting around the empty, quiet parking lot, glancing out the back before he scans through the windshield. He pulls his pants back up over his hips and reaches into the backseat to grab the blanket he keeps stowed away, wrapping it around you. He pulls you close, slinking that long arm around your shoulder and pushing his nose against yours as a lazy smile covers his face.

You hum happily as you rest your hand on his stomach, rubbing his full tummy softly with your finger tips, “Tell me about that big ol’ bed again,” you whisper, nuzzling into his face and nose with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, smiling softly, “It’s called a California King. They make ‘em for all those stars out there in Hollywood.” You giggle, and his smile broadens, “I’m gonna get you one of those beds, I promise you.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Although,”

“Although, what?”

“I don’t want you drivin’ Dottie anywhere anymore.”

He chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush over your naked shoulder and then dance down your arm, “She just wants what she can’t have. She’s jealous a’ you.”

“I know it.”

“Then don’t pay her no mind, girl. I mean it.” A silence drops over the two of you for a few minutes before he says, “I won’t drive her anywhere without tellin’ you. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’m sorry.”

You smile as you rest your head against his, letting your eyes close as sleep starts to pull you in. You feel him grab your fingers, pulling them away from his body as he starts to fumble around, slipping his arms back into his uniform. Once he’s dressed, you fall back into him. He wraps his arm around your neck. You place your hand back on his soft, round stomach. He rolls down the window, allowing the warm breeze to caress your skin. Nights like this are the best. You don’t know how you could be so stupid. You know he loves you.

You’ve always known.

“I’ma get you that little house over there on Pleasant drive, you know it?” he asks, daydreaming again, “We’ll get married -” You scoff, “What?”

“Married?” You ask skeptically, rolling your head on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes. Married.”

“How are you going to be the law in this town if you’re steady breaking it?”

He chuckles, “You don’t listen to the news?”

“No,” You say softly, squeezing him tighter as you let out a breath, “Too depressin’.”

“Well,” He starts, dropping kisses to the top of your head, “Richard and Mildred Loving are fighting hard for people like you and me.” You open your eyes and blink slowly, watching as the wind plays the branches of the trees across the street as he continues, “They’ll overturn those bullshit laws - just you watch. I’ll marry you the very next day, right here in the middle of town.”

“You think?”

“I think, what?”

“They’ll overturn ‘em?”

“They have to. The world’s too big for that small minded, backwoods bullshit now.”

“And then you’ll buy me that house over there on Pleasant Drive?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then get me one of those big old beds, what you call it?”

“A California King.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure will.”

“And then?”

He takes a breath before he sweeps his nose along yours again, brushing the tips together, “And then we’ll be together until we grow old and grey. I’ll probably be four hundred pounds by then, but.”

He chuckles as you pinch him, making him squirm from the sharp pain, “Stop it.” You warn.

“Look at me now! I’m well on my way.”

“I like you just how you are.” You say simply.

“I suppose you do.”

“I do.”

You barely have to push in to grab his lips as the two of you are already so close. You moan softly when they meet. That arm around your neck tightens, keeping you close - oh so close. You don’t tell him right away, but you like those daydreams of his. The house on Pleasant Drive, the big old bed, the wedding in the middle of town. You dream about them every night and wake up with them every morning. You don’t ever tell him though, because you’re the practical one. He’s the dreamer - and you like it that way.

You still don’t even tell him on the day he makes them all come true. How much you like those dreams of his.

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