#I just don’t think it’s fair to consider them to be the only option for Leo

[kiragecko]

This tag has been used for 15 years to mean the Steve Rogers movies, because there wasn’t an alternative until now. If it was by default synned with the Sam Wilson movies, you’d get fifteen years of Steve Rogers fic in your tag, because they DO NOT RETAG FIC. All the fic that were tagged ‘Captain America (Movies)’ over the last 15 years are going to STAY tagged that way, because those are the tags the writers added, themselves. AO3 did not tag them. We did. Starting from basically AO3’s inception.

AO3 also doesn’t allow a tag to point to different places by date. New fic getting the same tag can’t point to a different place than the old fic does.

And they don’t retire tags, just change the ‘official’ one that shows up in the drop down box. ‘Captain America (Movies)’ is no longer the official tag for the Chris Evans movies, and all new fic will be have ‘Captain America (Chris Evans Movies)’ or ‘Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies)’ suggested if they start typing in ‘Captain America’. That’s about as fair as they can get without making it impossible to search for any movie fic written before this point.

AO3 doesn’t create the tags for fic. And I don’t want them editing my fic without my permission. This is the only other alternative.

Edit: yes, I did miss that OP was assuming that all the movies staying in the same tag was obviously the best option, and separating them was the thing considered racist. Which is a valid option. Not sure I’d want them to be grouped together when Falcon And The Winter Soldier isn’t - how many shared themes are still there? How much overlapping fandom? But I guess that’s the point - fans want these movies to be considered a continuation of the legacy. Which it is.

My thinking was too caught up in comics logic, where this was OBVIOUSLY the third series (with FatWS as the second), and therefore needed to be given a new tag … but movies don’t work that way.

So clicking on what still says Captain America (Movies) on the Works section of my ao3 page, takes you to Captain America (Chris Evans Movies), implying what I already thought: tptb at ao3 consider Chris Evans/Steve Rogers to be the default Captain America, the true Captain America, the standard for Captain America. Now I have to manually change the tags on my fics.

This is bullshit.

This was intentional.

And this was just a really crummy thing to do to a character and his fans five minutes before his movie drops.

[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[aealzx]

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Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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“So… why did you volunteer yourself?” Stephanie asked once the other three had left, watching Jason move to sit on the floor and lean against the wall next to Jazz while Leslie gave her a check up as well.

“...In case any of the kids were up for ungluing themselves from each other long enough to take a shower,” Jason responded as though it were obvious. He actually still had questions he wanted to ask, but the offer for a shower was still an option.

“Wait, you have a shower here?” Tucker’s interest was immediately piqued, head snapping over to look at Jason.

“Dibs,” Sam spoke quickly, raising her hand halfway once more.

The claim for the first shower caused Tucker to gasp, head snapping over to stare at his friend in utter betrayal. “SAM! How could you!” he gaped.

Sam just met his gaze with a neutral stare, not lowering her hand. “Dibs,” she repeated, earning a snicker from Stephanie. None of them could blame the kids for wanting a proper shower, it wasn’t like there had been running water in the abandoned apartment complex they’d been staying in. The entire plate of burritos Stephanie had brought in was also already gone, so they also knew the kids were ready for actual meals again.

“Okay, let me just get the blinds pulled over the windows outside this room, and then I’ll come back to get you for a shower,” Stephanie agreed, amused, but also looked over to Jazz to double check. “If that’s alright with you. I don’t think you’d all fit in there, and I’d rather not move Danny.”

The idea of them being out of sight made Jazz anxious, but she could also understand their want for a good shower. She wanted one too. Baby wipes and rain water could only do so much for them trying to keep everything clean. Danny may have been in some sort of stasis, but they’d still tried to keep the environment around him clean considering he had open wounds. Everyone that was there was being a lot nicer than she first thought they would be though, the unmet expectations were making it hard for her to react quickly. It wasn’t that they made her think they were trying to get them to let their guard down. Jason and Damian had been way too blunt for her to believe that they were trying to be manipulative. Or if they were, they really sucked at it. It was just too unexpected right then. “...Okay,” Jazz agreed, wincing slightly as Leslie dabbed an alcohol swab on a small cut on her arm.

“Yessss,” Sam cheered, earning a small laugh from Danielle as Stephanie left the room to get the windows covered. This was one safehouse that they could relocate if needed, but would rather not have to do so if they could help it. So anything they could do to keep their guests from knowing where it was located was necessary.

And since they had somewhat brought up the topic of reestablishing rules and boundaries, Jazz looked over to Danielle to make sure she understood what was expected before an incident came up. “Dani, can you stay in your human form unless someone needs protection? And stay visible, don’t phase through anything, and no overshadowing. Don’t give them a reason to kick us out by snooping, okay?”

Danielle hadn’t been expecting to essentially be told she was grounded to her room, but a room other than her own, and let out an annoyed groan. “Uuuuugh, fiiine,” she dragged out, shifting forms again and sagging in theatrics. “Just don’t let me get bored,” she pushed, reminding them that Dick had loosely promised to bring them things, and then also added for good measure, “And I’m only going to behave as long as you guys actually help Danny. Got it?”

It was a fair enough trade, and Cass gave a simple thumbs up at the demand. It was too soon to tell how much help they would be for Danny, but they were still a much better resource than being homeless and broke. The Phantom kids seemed to be willing to at least try to let them help at least.

“I think we have some cards somewhere around here. Maybe a board game or two. If not we’ll bring some with the food,” Jason commented, not wanting the kids to get too bored either. There were all kinds of messes caused simply because a teenager was looking for entertainment. And maybe playing some games with them would help them loosen up. 

“Do you have any comics?” Danielle then asked. The games sounded promising, but comics were always nice too for when she had no one to play with.

“...We’ll see,” Jason half agreed, grinning slightly. At least the youngest knew what she liked.

“I’ll take it,” Danielle hummed, leaning back on both hands and kicking her legs slightly as Stephanie returned to beckon Sam to follow her.

“Don’t steal all the hot water!” Tucker called after them as they left the room, despair saturating his tone.

“That’s why I’m going first. You’re the one that takes forever,” Sam retorted, waving her hand dismissively without turning back. It earned a few more snickers before the group left behind settled into a semi uncertain quiet, both from exhaustion and simply not knowing what to talk about with the particular set of people there. The only one who made comments was Leslie, and it was only simple commands to support her checkups.

Eventually Leslie finished making notes on the tablet she had, and turned to look at Jason and Cass. “Aside from Danny the rest of them don’t look too bad. The showers were definitely a good idea, it’ll help clean all the cuts they have. But otherwise get them a good meal and some rest and they should be fine.”

“Good to hear,” Jason acknowledged, planning on letting Bruce and the rest of the team manage the food planning and check in schedule for Leslie. “Just send everything to Oracle. Do you need an escort?”

“No, I’ll manage,” Leslie dismissed, tapping on the tablet to send all the files to Barbara. “I’ll be back after dinner to check on the boy again. Call me sooner if necessary,” she bid, picking her bag up and leaving the room to head back to address other patients that needed her attention.

A few moments after Leslie was gone, Stephanie and Sam returned with the latter wearing a clean pair of spare clothes that had been stashed there. Stephanie seemed to be quite happy about something too, and when Jason saw the shirt Sam was wearing he understood why immediately. That was an old shirt, being memorabilia from Stephanie and Cass’s shared BatGirl uniform. But it was always fun to see fans. Though he did wonder if that was the case or if there was another reason.

“Cool shirt,” Tucker commented when he saw Sam. “What’s with the bat symbol?”

The question caused the three of Batman’s team to pause, Jason realizing he was about to get one of his questions answered. Did Tucker just not recognize the specific symbol? It wasn’t that obscure, he should at least recognize it as something related to Batman. Right?

“Not sure. It was the only black one, so I grabbed it,” Sam responded, tugging the shirt away from her enough to look down at the emblem again, momentarily forgetting what it looked like exactly.

Jason watched Stephanie and Cass’s expressions fall a little, and almost snorted.

“You don’t… know who that symbol is for?” Stephanie asked, sadness starting to creep into her voice at the revelation that Sam had only picked that shirt because it was black.

“Nope,” Sam confirmed, heading over to the stool she’d left before and sitting back down to dab at her hair with the towel. “Should I?”

It caused Stephanie to pause, and then give a shaky laugh, but Jason didn’t miss how Jazz’s gaze moved to look at the red symbol on his own chest, half hidden by his jacket. “N’no! I guess not. It’s a pretty old shirt anyway. No one has seen BatGirl for a while now anyway.” Stephanie shakily dismissed, tucking her disappointment away for later when she could properly express it.

“BatGirl?” Sam repeated, getting a wry grin. “Is there a BatBoy too?”

Another exchange of looks between Cass and Stephanie. Was that a joke? “No. Just Batman and Batwoman,” she answered, deciding to err on the side of Sam being serious.

“Well, there is, but BatBoy never worked with the other bats,” Jason pointed out, amusement saturating his voice.

“That name was from a baseball bat though, not a bat bat,” Stephanie argued.

Jason shrugged at the distinction, but wasn’t able to comment further before Tucker spoke up again. “Okay. So who’s Batman again?”

The three team members stopped to stare at Tucker, having to take a moment to register if he was putting on an act or not. When it was determined he was either impossibly good at pretending, or actually earnest in his question, Jason barked a laugh while Staphanie’s eye twitched. “You’ve been on Gotham for two months, been to the dark net, and are still asking who Batman is?” Jason asked, incredulous.

“What makes you think I was on the darknet?” Tucker defended quickly.

“Where else do people even hear about Lazarus water?” Jason retorted just as fast.

Tucker’s mouth pursed as his eyes scrunched, realizing he wasn’t going to get his way out of that one. “............ Okay,” he relented. Fair point. Good game. “So are we talking about an actual person, or the folktale boogeyman? Because the internet sources aren’t clear on that.”

Jason wheezed slightly at the comparison, filing that away in his mental box of topics to tease Bruce with.

“He’s the one we’re working with to help Danny,” Cass answered this time, feeling just a little miffed after the mutual disappointment she had suffered with Stephanie. Once again Jazz’s eyes flicked to Jason’s symbol, this time in understanding.

The comment caused another pause as Tucker realized he probably shouldn’t make fun of this guy. “...Alright. Cool cool. That answers a lot,” he rambled, hoping his comments didn’t affect the kind of help they were going to receive. “I think I’ll go take that shower now,” he excused, jerking to his feet and waiting momentarily for Stephanie to escort him out of the room.

“I have to ask now,” Jason started once they were out of sight, using this as a way to get another one of his questions in that he’d stayed around in the first place to try and get answered. “Where are you kids from to think Batman was a fairytale?”

He didn’t think that they would take the question well, considering how secretive they were being about other things. But to his pleasure the other two girls just looked at Jazz, who seemed to have relaxed a little more from the more easy going conversations. “...Amity Park,” she answered, watching to see if Jason, or more specifically Cass since she could see at least part of her face, had any sign of recognition before adding, “It’s in Illinois.”

That was unexpected. “That’s quite a ways away,” Jason commented. He’d never heard of Amity Park, but Illinois was definitely not a ‘took a wrong turn at the gas station’ ways away.

“How did you end up in Gotham?” Cass asked now, concern pinching her brows.

The three girls fell silent, but this time it was easy to tell that it wasn’t out of reluctance to share information. The looks they gave each other were more seeking to see if either of them had an answer rather than if they should say it. And Cass and Jason could also see some painful memories hidden in their expressions.

“Dunno,” Danielle finally admitted with a shrug. “We were fighting, then stuff blew up, and next thing we knew we were here.”

Oh, that didn’t sound good. Jason had been suspecting that the event that had led them to Gotham had been what had put Danny in the state he was, but stuff blowing up and relocating people was never a good thing. That was definitely something that was going to be relayed back to the others, and he really hoped they didn’t have to get people outside of their usual team involved.

“My ID and debit card don’t work here either,” Jazz added, sounding a little bitter and some of the prolonged stress starting to resurface. “Everytime we tried to buy something they told me my card was declined. And when I found a bank that happened to have the same name as the one I’m using, they told me my ID was fake.”

“...So you started stealing to get what you needed,” Jason connected. They were good kids in a bad situation. That was all. Jazz didn’t answer, though it didn’t seem to be because she was reluctant to admit they were stealing. She just seemed concerned about something else. “Don’t worry, we won’t turn you in. We usually deal with people who are much worse,” he assured as a subtle prod to get her to reveal what she was worried about.

Jazz gave a mirthless noise of amusement. “...What are you? Some kind of secret government street sweepers?” she asked. It was phrased as a sarcastic jab, but both Cass and Jason heard the secrets that were being hinted at.

Jason just barked a laugh. “Hardly. We’re independent. Sometimes we work with the police, but most of the time they’re pissed off at us too. Can’t imagine wanting to touch anything government related either. I don’t think they’d like me.”

There was a hesitant release in part of what had the girl’s tense, and Cass couldn’t help resting her hand on Danielle’s shoulder. “You are all safe with us,” she assured shortly. She could see it in the way they behaved during this topic. It wasn’t that they were suspicious of conspiracy theories or something similar. They disliked non-public government organizations because of personal experience. They had been hurt by them before.

The girls didn’t respond verbally, but Cass could see the change in their demeanor. They were a little less wary, and a little more hopeful. But that was enough interrogation for now. She knew her team would have plenty to work with from what they already had, and there was no need to stress the kids out further. So now it was on to a batter topic, and Cass took out her phone. “What foods do you like? We will have them prepared for dinner,” she asked, deliberately making her own demeanor more at ease to facilitate a response.

“Ugh, I could definitely go for some roasted butternut squash,” Sam responded almost immediately, sagging slightly on the stool.

“Oo oo! Can I get fried chicken? How much are we allowed to have? Can I have like five chickens?” Danielle asked, raising her hand high and bouncing on the table slightly.

“High metabolism?” Jason asked, just to double check she wasn’t just exaggerating and would actually eat the food if they brought it.

“Mhmm. I bet I could eat way more than you could,” Danielle nodded with a slight challenge.

“I bet you could,” Jason accepted with a chuckle, not even going to bother taking her up on that challenge.

“And the rest?” Cass prompted, typing a message to Alfred on her phone.

“...I’m okay with most anything,” Jazz answered when they looked her way, her hand straying to Danny’s hand again as she couldn’t help thinking of his favorite sandwich.

“Tucker will eat anything meat,” Sam provided for their remaining friend. She had already stolen the first shower from him, she could be nice and make sure he got something nice to eat.

“Got all that?” Jason asked Cass, glad to have a happier note for the kids to focus on now. After Cass gave a thumbs up, Jason shifted to stand again, raising his hands over his head in a mild stretch. “Good. Then let’s see if I can find those cards,” he announced, heading for the door.

“No poker,” Cass spoke up quickly, narrowing her eyes Jason’s way.

“I’m not going to play poker with a bunch of teenagers,” Jason huffed, mildly offended that was the first thing Cass would think of. There were so many other games to play with face cards anyway. And hopefully it would be enough to keep the kids occupied at least until dinner. And while they were on house arrest duty hopefully the others would figure out where these kids had come from, and how to help them. He could take some time while looking for the cards to send his own report to the others at least. Explosion relocation, anti government organization sentiments, non usable ID and debit card. It was starting to sound like they weren’t actually from the United States at all. But knowing their luck, it wasn’t just a case of country hopping. Hopefully they weren’t from a completely different time period or something. That always made things messy. Hopefully this Amity Park was just a tiny village in Illinois that was out of touch with the world compared to a big city like Gotham, and these kids were just country bumpkins that would be easy to get shipped off back home once they were all better.

There was no cost for hoping for an easy solution, even if Jason knew it wasn’t going to happen.

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This is my first time drawing either of these girls X'D Also I hope I got the right symbol for the shirt. I'm new and there's so many symbols

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 5

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Hand feeding, praise, kink negotiations, discussion of power exchange dynamics, kissing (FINALLY)

When you reach for the cardboard box on the edge of the table, he catches both of your wrists in one hand. You only resist a little bit. His other hand flicks the box open and he picks up a thick fry.

“Open,” he rumbles, pressing it to your lips. When you open your mouth, you watch his pupils dilate. He purrs as you take a bite. “Good girl.”

The rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You would let him feed you limp celery with that tone. You lean forward again, jaw dropping open.

“Should talk now,” Simon rumbles, thumb dragging over your lip as he feeds you the rest of the fry. The contact electrifies you down to your toes. You must make some kind of noise as you swallow because he smiles. “Didn’t consider I might feed you myself.”

“Okay,” you breathe, leaning into the hand cupping your cheek.

“Finished your stretches?”

The temperature in your body drops significantly. You lean away from him. “I…uh. I… didn’t.”

Simon hums a low note, hand finding your chin again without making you look into his eyes. “Hurtin’ somewhere?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I just… I was in my work clothes. And I didn’t want to do… that in front of Gaz and Soap.”

“Fair,” Simon says, drawing you forward to brush his lips over your forehead. You feel your face get hot all the way up to where they brush against you as he speaks. “You want to do them now, or later?”

The tension you barely noticed creeping into your shoulders melts away. Of course. Simon is just Simon now, not Ghost. If you aren’t comfortable doing something, he’s not going to get mad, just give you other options. He’s kept you safe, and he’ll make sure you continue to feel safe under his instruction. Even though everything is different, it’s all the same.

Tears prickle your eyes, so you squeeze them shut as you lean further into him. Suddenly, one of his arms is around your back, the one on your leg lifting you into his lap. If there’s even a grunt of effort, you don’t hear it over the way your breath gets caught in your throat. Your hands come up, automatically, to brace against his chest and one bicep before you’re folded into him like that’s the only place you ever needed to be.

And then his lips find yours.

God, how many times had you thought about kissing him? The fantasy is so muted compared to the real thing. His lips are thin and a little dry, surrounded by the barest scratch of stubble. He doesn’t coax your mouth open, just presses his lips against yours like he could do this all night. The tip of his tongue flicks out for a quick touch to your top lip, startling a sound out of you. He does it again, opening his mouth to moan into yours when you squeeze his arm in response.

When your own tongue comes out to touch the scar you’ve always admired at the corner of his mouth, he growls. “Fuck, Bambi.”

“Simon.” You barely recognize your own voice.

The hand on your thigh goes tight. It startles a gasp from you that he drinks down with a groan of is own.

He surprises you by pulling back enough to speak between kisses. “Beautiful, you know that? Thought I was hallucinating.” He tips you back a bit, taking all of your weight to scan your face. He grins as he says, “Was thinkin’ so hard abou’ you, and ‘ere you are.”

“You were thinking about me?”

“’Course, I was,” he says, leaning back into the couch. You end up resting your head against his shoulder. He sighs and kisses the top of your hair. “Missed our check in this week, ‘n you’d this big trip you were all nervous for. Didn’t get to see you off. Was lookin’ forward to gettin’ the tour of your hotel room, gettin’ y’r travel stories. ‘n then I got the call today, n’ I was cancelin’ on you again. Just about broke my ‘eart.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure what to say. You’d always kind of assumed he was indulging you, letting you ramble about your day until he could get to the good stuff, as your ex used to say. “I knew you were kind of… on call. I didn’t realize that you were saving hostages, but I knew you were busy.”

He twists a bit to look into your eyes. “Don’t like bein’ too busy to see you.”

“You just like seeing my ass,” you joke, burying your face into his neck to settle the butterflies in your stomach.

“’S a good arse,” he chuckles, shaking the meat of your thigh in his grip. “Was definitely lookin’ forward to a bit o’ skin. But if you were too tired, I jus’ wanted to ‘ear your voice, coax you through some of your stretches before bed. Speaking of…”

You roll your eyes at the significant look he gives you. The way he never forgets a command makes so much more sense now that you know what he does for a living. Your heart flutters to see the familiar way his scarred lips quirk at your sass, paired with the unfamiliar way he tweaks the skin of your hip with the gentlest pinch.

“I’ll do them later,” you concede. “I already did all my floor stretches, and I’m hungry now.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your ass. “Should prob’ly eat before it gets cold.”

He pops open the second takeaway container to reveal your meal, a dish you had picked basically at random from the menu Gaz had showed you on his phone. It’s a lot less hand-feedable than Simon’s wrap and fries, so he lets you feed yourself, but he refuses to let you sit on the couch, even halfway. Just holds you in place while he eats one-handed, trading fries for bites of chicken adana and tipping water into your mouth every few minutes.

You’re ravenous until you’re suddenly not, halfway through your food. Simon doesn’t comment, just finishes the other half of your food while you rest against him, exhausted. Simon’s hand is still on your hip, his thumb tracing back and forth in an idle, steady pattern.

When he finishes eating, he asks, “Where’s your head at?”

“Nervous,” you say automatically. This, at least, is familiar. “’M tired, and I don’t know what you’re gonna expect of me.”

He taps three fingers on your hip, twice. “Trust me?”

“You saved my life today,” you point out.

“Tha’s work,” he dismisses. “Not workin’ now. You trust me?”

You think about it, because he always wants you to think about it before you answer. You fall back on your rules, the promises between the two of you.

“I trust you to be honest with me,” you answer, the mantra coming easy. “I trust that it’s okay to tell you if I’m not okay with something. I trust that you won’t yell at me. I trust that you’re not going to hurt or harm me on purpose to correct my behavior.”

“Very good,” he rumbles, pulling you close to press his lips against your forehead again. “I trust you to be ‘onest with me, too. Trust you’ll accept a no, when I give it. Trust that you’re not g’nna yell. An’ I trust you not to punish me if you’re upset.”

“Wow,” you say. “I never expected to hear you say that in person.”

“Never thought I’d ever ‘old you,” he replies. “An’ I’ve never folded a whats-it-called… a romper, before, neither. Interestin’ day o’ firsts.”

“It’s a jumpsuit if it’s long,” you mumble, mortified all over again that he’d had all of your stuff in his hands.

“’S impractical. Soft, though. Bet it’s real pretty on you.”

A swell of embarrassment swoops through your belly. It’s automatic to bury your face in your hands. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“None o’ tha’, now.” Simon grasps both of your wrists in one large hand again and brings them down to your chest.    He makes you look at his face with a finger under your chin. “Won’t promise I’ll never make fun, but I won’t say I think you’ll look good if I’m no’ bein’ ‘onest. Promised, yeah?”

“Trust you to be honest,” you whisper, tipping your face back into his shoulder. “Acknowledged.”

“Good girl. Three deep breaths.”

You push all of the air from your lungs, the way your therapist taught you. When you inhale, you feel his chest rise with yours. He matches you when you hold, then release the breath in a steady stream. Where the back of your hand touches his chest, you can feel his heartbeat, solid and steady as he takes the next breath with you. By the third inhale, you let your spine relax as you feel him do the same.

“Know we never planned on meeting,” he eventually rumbles. He tips you back to look down at you, then ducks down for a quick kiss. “But I’m gonna be selfish and say I’m glad you’re ‘ere. If you don’t want nothin’ else, tonight, gettin’ to ‘old you is still everythin’ I ever could’ve wanted. Honest. Acknowledge.”

“This is good. We don’t have to do anything else, and it’ll still be good,” you whisper. “Acknowledged.” You lick your lips, prop yourself up to look into his eyes, then away. “What if… What if I want to do more?”

“One step at a time,” Simon chuckles.    “Stretches first. Then we’ll see about tha’ reward I promised you, yeah?”

He brings his mouth to yours again. Your hands are freed so that he can cup your jaw so tenderly that it threatens to melt your heart, even as it electrifies you down to your toes. When you moan into his lips, he echoes you, then pulls a way to press his lips to your cheek.

“Up, Bambi. Let’s get you to the bed.”

[kathaynesart]

Real talk. I think the above image is a very good example of the subtle ways fans try to gaslight and manipulate others in a fandom. You don’t have to be verbally harassing the person to still be putting them down.

People should never belittle or demoralize a person simply because they have a different opinion on a fictional character. Regardless of how canon or head canon a character’s orientation or interests may be that gives no right to harass another living human being. It especially does not give the right to make judgement calls on the worth of their character and claim them to be homophobic or worse. It’s for this reason I normally keep my personal opinions quiet simply because I do not wish to gain the attention or ire of those sorts of individuals.

Long story short please be respectful to everyone, especially creators who put so much time and energy into their work. Just because their work does not match your “optimal vision” does not give you the right to judge them. Thank you!

My friend sent me the link to my art on pinterest (a person who uploaded it added credits so they're good, just in case), and after seeing this comment, I decided to vent a bit and let people know something, because it's not the first case like this for me.

Do not comment my art with these kinds of "fixes". My art is my art. You want Leosagi or Leo with male characters? Go and find artists who does it. There are plenty of those out there. I'm not one of those and won't ever be.

When you do something like this you devalue a person's work and simply trespassing their safe space. Not to mentions this is simply rude and feels insulting.

I'm not going on a constant crusade and leaving comments under Leosagi art, telling people to change it into Leo x Y/N or Fem character, so, please, have some respect.

I've been getting comments like this and after seeing this one on pinterest decided to make a post to make things clear, because

Have some conscience.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

good graces (caesar x human!reader)

summary: A remarkable ape catches your eye at the sanctuary.

warnings: angst, swearing, mild fluff

words: 0.8k

notes: just a little drabble... he owns me now i fear. enjoy!

gif credit

“Hungry?” You hum with a soothing tone, petting the orangutan’s head to catch his attention. He eyes you and signs positively, making you smile. “That’s why you’re my favourite, but don’t tell anyone. They might get jealous.” You tease and Maurice grunts in response, clearly amused by your words.

You were a volunteer at the sanctuary for a year now and you attempted your best to help the apes in light of the clear mistreatment they received from that blond asshole. You lost count of how many times you tried to get him fired, but the owner simply didn’t care enough for the animals to do something about it, so your only option was to show some kindness when you fed them or went inside to clean the cages. Most were indifferent to your presence there when it wasn’t food related, outside from Maurice and Cornelia, who had gentler personalities. Until something happened.

Someone.

A newbie came along—wearing clothes, no less. He was standoffish and kept to himself a lot, but the primates didn’t like him already, especially Rocket; and so you watched with an aching heart as he beat up Caesar and no one did anything to stop it, ape or human. You wanted to step in and do something, anything, even if it meant you getting hurt in the process, however it was out of your reach.

“That’s just how nature works, (y/n).” The boss tried to console you that morning, to which you only huffed in indignation.

As weeks went by, the newcomer got settled in, albeit not without his fair amount of struggles. Everyone picked on him and one day, you simply had enough. Stepping inside the area of the cages, your ears ringed as the animals screeched in excitement, probably thinking you were bringing food. You strolled towards Rocket’s cell and tapped lightly on it, catching his attention.

“You need to stop.” You sign firmly, although being fully aware Rocket didn’t know ASL as well as Maurice did. The other apes look at you with a mix of confusion, some even getting angry at the realisation you’re not there to feed them, and they start screaming again. You continue, your hands swift, “leave Caesar alone.”

As you said that, your eyes fell automatically on Caesar’s cage at the end of the hall. He stared at you quietly, his green orbs filled with curiosity and sheer surprise at your display of protection. Amidst the bullying he endured daily, the ape didn’t have time to take note of your kind acts, the hurt from being abandoned by Will the only thing in his mind—up until that moment, that is. The apes kept on shrieking while you sighed and prepared yourself to leave at last. A gesture from Caesar made you stop in your tracks, though. You never saw him speak to anyone before.

“Come.” He signs almost stealthily, blinking impatiently towards you.

You step closer to his cage and ignore the loud sounds around you, raising your brows. “You know how to sign?”

He hoots softly, suddenly excited at your interest. “Dad taught Caesar.”

You can’t help but grin, nodding slowly. “That’s amazing… I never saw a chimp sign before, only orangutans.”

He grunts and points to you, asking, “why defend Caesar?”

You consider his question for a split second and shrug. “Why not?”

He snorts happily at your answer. It’s like music to your ears, for you never heard him make such a sound before. He glances back at his cell, staring into blank space as he remembers the harsh treatment he was put through every day. “Everyone hates Caesar.” He signs simply. A statement, as if it was a known fact.

You shake your head vehemently, eyeing him with resolve. “I don’t hate you.”

As Caesar finds your gaze again, he seems deeply affected by your response, walking closer to rest his forehead against the cage. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Just helping a fellow primate out.” You grin, touching his hand through the cold metal separating you both. 

He’s surprised by your touch, the warmth of your hand sending chills down his spine. He looks down at your fingers as his eyebrows raise, his own twitching without being able to grab yours in return. Caesar hoots once more, his expression softening. “Stay.” He pleads, his palm signing desperately.

You feel your chest tighten at the sight, giving him a bittersweet smile. “I’ll come back to feed you in a few hours.”

A whimper escapes him, Caesar’s body hunching forward in disappointment. A moment passes and although his demeanour deflates considerably, he grunts in acknowledgement, still eyeing you eagerly, “Caesar wait.”

You only chuckled to yourself and exchanged one last hand wave with Caesar, walking out of the cages’ room with your head down. Soon you’d have to tell Maurice there was competition to your good graces, now.

[girlgenius1111]

adjustments + acceptance

Sol gets a new friend. Mapi... adjusts. pretty much entirely fluff. brief descriptions of a panic attack.

------

“Amor, are you sure about this?” Mapi asked, for probably the 10th time that morning. Ingrid just chuckled, looking sympathetically across the kitchen table at her girlfriend who had her black cat cradled close to her chest.

“María, you agreed already.” Ingrid implored, taking a sip of coffee to hide her smile at the older woman’s pouting.  

Mapi let out a heavy sigh, pressing a gentle kiss onto the cat’s forehead. “I don’t want a dog.” 

“I know, but Sol does. She wants one so badly she asked me if she could get one. You know what that means as well as I do, María.” 

Mapi threw her head back and groaned. “You’re very lucky I love your sister.” 

“I am very lucky.” Ingrid said, sending her girlfriend a soft, loving smile that the other woman instantly returned. Though after a second, she shook her head like she was pulling herself from a trance. 

“You Engens. You make a face and I give you whatever you want.” She said grumpily. “It is not fair.”

“Maybe you should grow a spine then, María,” Ingrid laughed. 

“You wouldn’t like it if I did,” Mapi teased, though she flushed red when Ingrid raised one eyebrow at her. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” She said matter of factly, and she was completely correct. Mapi wouldn’t dare. “Alright, I’ll go get her. Remember, María, this is a surprise. Don’t be weird, and don’t tell her where we’re going.”

“I know how to act normal, and I know how to keep a surprise a secret.” Mapi scowled. 

“You tried to throw me a surprise party last year and you were so weird, I thought you were breaking up with me.” Ingrid replied over her shoulder, leaving Mapi to sit and think with that one. 

The Spaniard couldn’t deny that Ingrid had a point. Mapi took a deep breath, putting on a smile that she hoped was normal, that certainly wasn’t, and waited for you to descend the stairs, soaking up her last few minutes with Bagheera as an only child.

------

Ingrid wouldn’t lie and claim she didn’t want a dog either. She absolutely did, and when you very timidly asked if it would ever be a possibility for you to get one, Ingrid had seized her chance. If Mapi had a soft spot for her, it was nothing compared to how she was with you. Ingrid wasn’t quite sure that her girlfriend had ever said no to you. 

You were confused as to where you were going, until Mapi pulled into a parking spot in front of a shelter, and you got out of the car faster than either of them thought was possible. Your excitement and hope was infectious as you waited impatiently for your sister and her girlfriend to get out of the car, too. 

“Are you guys being for real? You’re getting a dog?” You asked, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Mapi shook her head with a wry grin. 

“No, you’re getting a dog. I will play no part in the ruin of Bagheera’s life.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend, pulling open the door to the building and gesturing you inside. 

As Ingrid followed you into the shelter, watching the growing grin on your face, she couldn’t hide her own smile. At your excitement, obviously, but also that she was finally getting her way. As she normally did.

Her and Mapi had done some recon, and had a couple dogs in mind that the shelter said were friendly and easy going. They greeted the shelter workers, who had been expecting them, and began to lead you back to one of the first dogs they had chosen. 

You didn’t even make it to the first option they’d selected. Instead, you stopped in your tracks at the third cage. Inside was a black and white border collie, a dog that initially Ingrid had considered. Though border collies were a lot of work, they were energetic and active. This one was a bit smaller than a normal one was, so Ingrid wasn’t worried about the size. As she had talked with the workers, though, she learned that he wasn’t very friendly, and he hadn’t shown any interest in anyone that had attempted to get to know him. 

He’d been found abandoned on the side of the road, just outside the city. There were no signs of abuse, but he was, at their estimate, between 3 and 5 years old, so it hadn’t been an unwanted puppy. He had a collar on, which said his name, but the address and phone number had been scratched off. This, along with the place he was left suggested that he had been… just that. Left. This traumatizing event had clearly left a mark on the little guy, and he was now exceptionally distrustful of every human that interacted with him. 

Over the course of the preliminary visit Ingrid had made to the shelter, she hadn’t seen him move from his spot wedged in the back of the cage, his deep brown eyes sullenly and apprehensively watching anyone who walked by. 

So, Ingrid had ruled that dog out, knowing you would want a dog that would be up for doing activities with you. 

Now, though, he was looking at you intently, his ears perked up on his head. 

“Hi, buddy,” you whispered, crouching down in front of the cage. He didn’t retreat further into himself, like he had done when Ingrid had watched the workers interact with him. He didn’t get up either, but he did scoot himself just a bit closer to you. Ingrid and Mapi stopped, exchanging looks, before they turned to the worker. 

“That’s Scout. He is very shy, and isn’t very receptive to anyone.” She explained, looking at you with pity, knowing the look on your face was one that meant you were already attached to him. 

“Can I meet him?” You asked, not looking away from the dog. 

Mapi opened her mouth to get you to move on but Ingrid nudged her, shaking her head. There was something about the way the dog was looking at you. Almost hopefully. 

“Of course, but he probably won’t let you near him. He’s like that with everyone, so don’t be offended.” The worker explained. 

You moved out of her way as she opened the door, before you carefully stepped in, taking a seat just inside the door against the wall. You regarded Scout carefully, watching as he sniffed the air in between the two of you with interest. 

“Hi Scout.” You said, holding your hand out for him to sniff. 

Mapi and the worker expected the dog to recoil, curl back up into a little ball in the corner of the room as far away from you as he could get. Ingrid wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t what occurred. 

Slowly, Scout got to his feet, stretching carefully before he padded softly forward, still very tentative, and sniffed your hand. 

All three of the adults outside the cage watched, astounded, as Scout gave your hand a lick. They all jumped, startled, when he bounded forward and launched himself at you. All three women flinched, expecting the worst from him. Instead of a surprise attack, though, he planted his paws firmly on your legs, and began eagerly licking at your face. His tail began to wag, and he looked like a completely different dog as you began to run your fingers through his fur. 

You were laughing, trying to get him to leave your face alone, and the sound seemed to only make him happier, only make him more eager. 

“Scout, no,” you laughed, pushing his head away gently. 

The other workers had come over to watch, and they were in complete awe when Scout stopped licking your face, and plopped down on the ground next to you, resting his head in your lap. Scout was famous at the shelter for not listening. He knew his name, clearly, but the dog didn’t follow any instructions. Ever. They thought he hadn’t been trained, but it appeared he just had been waiting for the right person to tell him what to do. 

You continued to pet his head, smiling down at him as he let out a very contented sigh, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Everyone in the building knew very well that there was nothing to be done, now. Scout had chosen you. And you’d chosen him. 

When you looked up at Ingrid and Mapi, the biggest smile on your face that they’d seen in a long time, neither of them could have even thought about saying no. 

You left the shelter that day with a very sweet new friend. He was perfect for you, truly. His breed was known to be energetic which was good for all the activities you liked to do. He was loyal, smart, and almost painfully adorable. You loved him instantly. And as Ingrid watched you both through the rearview mirror on the way home, she knew you’d made the right choice. There was something in his eyes that made our sister sure that he’d take care of you. Call her crazy, but dogs were weird like that, and she couldn’t help but think that this little guy had ended up in a shelter so he could someday be yours. 

-------

Scout was attached at the hip to you, having decided that you were safe, and though he slowly got used to Ingrid and Mapi, you were his person. 

And while Mapi understood that you loved him and he loved you, she wasn’t sure she could quite get over the change he brought to the house. He was slightly clumsy, always bumping into things and tripping her. He slept with his mouth open, and made little sounds as he snoozed, which bothered Mapi to no end. It grossed her out that he slept on your bed, and that he always tried to lick her legs when she came back from a run. 

Mapi wasn’t a dog person. She tolerated Scout, but she didn’t think she’d ever enjoy him, or be thankful for him. 

-------

Her biggest fear going into the whole dog thing, though, was that Bagheera would be upset. What actually happened was almost… worse, in Mapi’s opinion. 

The damn cat refused to hate the dog. No hisses. No well placed smacks to the nose with her paw. The first few days, Bagheera ignored him completely, though he was very intrigued by her. He wanted to be best friends, and she would have preferred to pretend he didn’t exist. 

After they spent more time together, though, it appeared that Bagheera warmed up to the clumsy dog, much to Mapi’s disdain. 

You and Ingrid caught her giving Bagheera a stern talking to one morning, after finding her curled up on the couch next to Scout. 

“You are not supposed to like dogs, Bagheera. It is against the rules. And you’re leaving me all alone here. I cannot be the only one that hates the stupid dog. He’s too big and too furry and too messy.” She ranted, scooping some food into Bagheera’s bowl. You and Ingrid tried to withhold your laughter from where you were standing in the hall just outside the kitchen, but were unsuccessful. 

A small giggle escaped you, and it was such an absurd sound that you and Ingrid burst even further into laughter, stumbling into the kitchen and right into the path of one very embarrassed, and very annoyed, Spaniard. She glared at you both, only sending you both into another fit of laughter, until you drew the attention of Scout, who clambered into the kitchen, wagging his tail like he always did when you laughed. 

“Oh perfect, now he’s going to make fun of me too.” Mapi scowled, crossing her arms over her chest in a very pouty manner. 

“We’re not making fun of you, María, I promise,” Ingrid began, avoiding eye contact with you so as not to laugh again. 

“You’re not?” Mapi asked, the crease in her forehead relaxing just slightly. 

And at the same time as Ingrid went to respond, Scout decided to use his voice as well. 

“No!” Ingrid said. 

“RUFF” Scout barked, his tail now wagging furiously as you collapsed to the floor, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

Ingrid tried to keep it together, really, but the prolonged eye contact with her furious partner proved to be too much, and she covered her face with her hand, body shaking silently. 

“I hate you all.” Mapi said grumpily, picking up Bagheera, who gave a disgruntled meow, and jumped right out of her arms. The cat walked slowly over to her new friend, standing right next to him, as if to make a point. “Traitor.” Mapi called, before storming out of the room. 

She shook her head at the loud laughter now erupting from the kitchen, and the occasional barks that joined it. She did wonder, though. Bagheera was a good judge of character. If she liked… him. He couldn’t be that bad, could he? 

-------

Ingrid was annoyed that Frido wanted to have a sleepover with you and not her. Mapi was annoyed because Ingrid was annoyed, and Scout was furious that you’d left him behind. He laid by the door for a solid hour, seemingly flabbergasted that you’d left with an overnight bag… and without him. Didn’t you know that he was supposed to be the light of your life? 

Eventually, though, he got tired of the doormat, and sulked into the family room where Ingrid and Mapi were watching a movie. He walked past Mapi, barely giving her a second look, before he jumped up on the couch without being invited, settling his head on Ingrid’s leg and sighing dramatically. Ingrid didn’t even flinch, just began to slowly stroke through the soft fur on the top of his head. 

“Ahem.” Mapi said, clearing her throat rather obviously. 

“Yes?” Ingrid asked, giving her girlfriend an amused look. 

“Dog. Dog on the couch.” Mapi said, looking exasperatedly at her girlfriend.“Without being invited. Ingrid, we have rules, the dog is not supposed to come on the couch unless he’s invited and I did not invite him.” Mapi whined, growing more annoyed when Ingrid just smirked at her. 

“He’s always invited when I’m up here, right Scout?” Ingrid cooed, smiling down at the dog when he began to wag his tail. 

Mapi rolled her eyes, but dropped the issue. She did scoot over, though, right up next to Ingrid, resting her head on the Norwegian’s shoulder, in an almost territorial fashion. Ingrid noticed, and smirked, but chose not to say anything. 

That one instance aside, there weren’t really any issues until it was time for bed, and Ingrid and Mapi were already under the covers, finishing the last steps of their nighttime routine. They had left your bedroom door open, expecting that Scout would sleep in there, as he normally did. 

He walked right in through their bedroom door, though, over to Ingrid’s side of the bed. He looked at her, then, his big brown eyes looking hopefully up at her. 

“No. Ingrid, no.” Mapi said, seeing very clearly what Scout wanted. 

“Mapi, he’s just a baby,” Ingrid said, unable to say no to the very adorable face staring at her. 

“He’s not a baby! He’s at least 3! That is 21 in dog years. A 21 year old does not need to sleep in our- INGRID NO.” 

Ingrid had very slyly patted the bed, inviting Scout up, though she made sure he laid at the very edge of the bed. 

“Make him get off.” Mapi whined, glaring at her girlfriend. 

“Oh, he’s fine, María, he’ll stay right there, won’t you, buddy?” Once Ingrid used the baby voice on him, Mapi knew there was no changing her mind. She sighed deeply, laying down and begrudgingly opening her arms for Ingrid to snuggle into, ignoring the grin on her partner’s face. 

“Goodnight, María, I love you,” Ingrid whispered into Mapi’s neck. 

“Love you too.” Mapi replied grumpily, causing a small laugh to fall from her girlfriend's lips. 

Scout remained at the edge of the bed for maybe 10 minutes before he moved a little closer to the women. 

10 minutes later, a little bit closer. 

When Ingrid and Mapi drifted off, he’d migrated up the bed, until his head was resting on one of Ingrid’s legs, and he had a paw on one of Mapi’s. 

And when Ingrid woke up the next morning? It was to discover a wide awake Mapi staring at her, and a very sleepy Scout still passed out. 

“Did you sleep well?” Ingrid tried, fighting back a smile. 

“Don’t even try. We are burning these sheets.” Mapi said, shifting just slightly in an attempt to dislodge the dog that was tucked perfectly under the covers up against her, his head resting on her pillow. It looked like they were cuddling, and Ingrid wished more than anything in the world that you were here to see it. “He is never allowed up here again.” 

“He’s sweet, María, really,” 

“Never. Again.” Mapi said, her eyebrows furrowed adorably. 

Ingrid knew that probably wouldn’t last, if the way Mapi was subconsciously petting the dog’s head was any indication, so she let it go for now, knowing it would just be a matter of time before Scout had Mapi wrapped around his finger. 

-------

And really, if there was a way to Mapi’s heart, it was through the two Norwegians in her life, that she loved very deeply. She tolerated Scout because he took care of her sol, and she’d come to love him, too, for the same reason. 

--------

You’d been doing so much better the past month or so. Knowing that you were here to stay had done wonders for your mental health, the threat of going back to Norway no longer hanging over your head. That didn’t mean that everything was perfect, though. 

You still had doubts, still sent yourself spiraling sometimes when you thought too much. Particularly about your mom. 

It was her birthday. Ingrid had assured you that you didn’t need to say anything to her, not if you didn’t want to. That had felt okay for most of the day. It was when you were left to your own devices, though, that you began to overthink, and began to doubt. 

She’d missed your birthday and she hadn’t cared. You pictured her face, though, everytime you closed your eyes. Not her face, but her face. Nice Mom’s face. The mom that loved you, the mom that cut the crusts off your sandwiches, and held your hand when you crossed the street. Maybe this mom had never really existed, maybe she had just been… doing the bare minimum. Still, though, you’d spent many years thinking that she’d loved you. And you spent many more years wondering how you could get Nice Mom back. 

It was Nice Mom you thought about that evening, while Ingrid and Mapi were off at a match. You’d stayed back, having an endless amount of homework to complete. This proved to be a mistake, and you knew that the minute you began to breathe a little too hard. The minute the thoughts started returning, the ones that told you that if your mother didn’t love you, no one would. The ones that told you that you were unwanted. Unlovable. Too much trouble. Not worth it. Bad. Bad bad bad. 

You didn’t notice that you were crying until Scout was licking the tears off your face, and you didn't notice you were shaking until you began to pet him and your hands trembled against his fur. 

It still felt unnatural to ask for help, to not just deal with it yourself. But in the time that you’d been accepting comfort and love from Ingrid and Mapi, it seemed that you no longer could deal with it yourself. You needed them, all of a sudden, which was a thought terrifying in and of itself. Still, you pressed the call button before you could think too hard, hoping more than anything that the match was over, and that your sister would answer.

“Hi Solstråle! We’re on our way home. What’s up?” 

“How far are you?” You mumbled, shutting your eyes tightly and gripping onto the duvet cover under you. 

“About 10. Is everything okay?” Ingrid asked, a touch of concern entering her voice. It was dumb, but she’d scored a goal today, which wasn’t a regular event, and the fact that you hadn’t commented on it when you were the first to celebrate her goals was slightly worrying. 

“No. I- I can’t-. No, please hurry.” You told her, biting your lip as it trembled, wishing you could just be strong enough for yourself for once. 

“Oh, honey.” Ingrid said sympathetically. 

“We’ll be there as soon as we can, mi sol, I promise.” Mapi said, hitting the accelerator until she was definitely speeding. “How bad is this one?” 

“Bad. Can’t breathe.” You whimpered, digging your nails into your leg in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. 

“We’re right here, solstråle, you’re okay, I promise.” Ingrid said, desperate to help in any way she could. 

Now, all that could be heard over the speaker was your rapid breathing, and both girls knew you were past the point of being able to respond. They took turns talking to you, with no confidence that it would help. When you got like this, you needed physical contact to bring you out of it, a fact they were well aware of. 

What they didn’t know, though, was that Scout had taken matters into his own…paws, apparently unimpressed with your grounding technique. Or, maybe he could just sense your distress, and did the only thing his rather small brain could think of. First, he put his head on your leg, a regular position for him to lay, and you barely noticed it. Then, though, he put a paw up as well. It wasn’t until he had both paws resting on your leg, licking your skin every so often, that you opened your eyes and looked down at him. He looked completely relaxed, and in a truly miserable shot in the dark, you began to run your fingers through his fur. 

It was soothing, the soft fur and the steady beat of his heart under you. Amazingly, you could feel yourself trying to slow down your breathing, feeling yourself calming down just slightly. Enough that you could try the techniques you’d learned in therapy, and enough that you registered when the front door opened downstairs. 

Help had arrived, but you weren’t quite sure you needed it anymore. 

Ingrid and Mapi rushed up the stairs, expecting you to be in a state they’d only seen a couple times, but hated nonetheless. Instead, they were greeted with the sight of you on your bed, Scout sprawled across your lap, though he was much too big for it, a much calmer look on your face than made sense. 

You gave them a weak smile, looking down at Scout, who, in turn, looked at them. He was just a dog, but his eyes were expressive, and Ingrid could swear he was judging them for leaving you home alone on such a day. Ingrid knew, almost instantly, how you’d managed to calm down without them.  

Mapi evidently came to the same conclusion, because when her and Ingrid took their spots on either side of you, pressing kisses onto your forehead, and wrapping you up in a tight hug, Mapi focused first on Scout. 

“Buen chico, Scout” she murmured, smoothing the fur on the top of his head. You and Ingrid exchanged smiles, while Mapi focused on the soft fur under her hand, and the protective way in which Scout laid across your legs. She decided, then, that maybe he wasn’t so bad. She could do more than tolerate him, if he was this effective. And tomorrow, she decided, you were going to the pet store and picking out a new toy for him. And maybe a couple treats. 

Anything for her sol, and apparently, anything for your Scout. 

------

:)

[patscorner]

CHAPTER ONE: BUY-IN

pairings: paige x oc

contains: pining, angst

word count: 2,575

a/n: okay, one chapter in. let me know what you guys think, my inbox is open. also let me know what you might like to see, the outline isn't set in stone. school has started so it might be a bit before the next chapter, but it's coming. enjoy!

My palms sweat as I dial the familiar number, one I’d memorized by heart. It’d been far too long since I’d called her, and I don’t really have a reason, so the bullshit ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse will just have to do.

=======================

JUNE 2023

“Hello?”

I clear my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that magically appeared. “H-Hey, Azzi, uh-it’s CJ.”

“Who?” My heart dropped to my shoes as my brain scrambled to pick up the pieces of one word.

“I-uh..”

Azzi chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. What’d you need?” I let out a breath as I rub my head.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you, holy shit.” I laugh.

“Apparently, since it’s been, what, like three months since we’ve talked.” I could practically hear the eye roll.

It’s really not fair for me to ignore Azzi because, really, she hadn’t done anything but be my best friend.

Our best friend.

And maybe that our was the problem. Maybe that combination, the unity of the word, and everything behind it was a mistake. Maybe, letting her etch herself into the scrolls of my heart, so much so that the ink bled together. Maybe the missed cue of when mine became hers, and hers became ours, was poor oversight.

Maybe letting Azzi become collateral damage was where me and her went wrong.

I laugh it off, ignoring the pang it sends to my chest.

“Yeah, well, I have to mentally prepare myself to lose brain cells. Can’t let it fuck up my game.” I respond, earning a laugh from the brown-haired girl. There’s nothing like the nostalgia a sound can bring you. The memories and feelings, all hidden behind a single noise.

After she gathers herself, she sighs. “So what’s up?”

And suddenly, I remember why I’d called.

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I kinda wanted to talk to you about, before you hear it somewhere else..” I say, picking at my earlobe nervously.

“Ooookay… Is everything okay..?” her voice relaying softer through the phone.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing bad. Or, at least, I don’t think..” I fall silent for a moment. This couldn’t be as bad as I’m making it seem, right? Right?

“Either way, I’d just rather talk about it in person.”

Azzi hums. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Where do you want to meet?” I consider my options. I’m only in Minnesota to visit my family for about a week, and it’d take another day to get to Virginia… I would be back in time to move into my dorm. It’s inconvenient but doable.

“I could drive up to you in like a week, I’ll just meet you at your house.” I mutter thoughtfully.

“Wait, are you in Texas or Minnesota?”

“I’m about an hour out from Minny.” I answer, slightly confused.

“Oh, I’m here with Paige and the boys. We’re actually headed to the fair soon. You could meet up with us if you wanted.”

“Shit…uh, I didn’t think about them...” I mumble.

That’s a lie. Truthfully, every time I think of home, memories of the blonde flood my mind instantly. But then I’m reminded of what she’d done. How she ripped herself out of my chest like velcro, instead of carefully detangling herself, ridding herself off all strings attached. All for someone else.

For someone who used to be mine.

“Hello..? You still there?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Uh, th-yeah, that’s fine.” I sigh, quickly trying to recover.

Azzi sighs through the phone. “Look, I still don’t know what happened between you two, so if you don’t want to come-” she amends.

“No! No, okay, sorry. I- just gotta change my clothes…” I say, biting my lip as I lie through my teeth. “I’ll just meet you guys there?”

I could practically hear Azzi smile. “That sounds good, just call me when you get there.”

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up. I groan as I throw my head back.

I’m always up to a challenge, but the thought of going and having to function around her, after all she’s said and done; after she’s ruined us before there even was an us, that might be more difficult than I’d thought.

It’s not like I have a choice, though. I’m gonna have to learn how to be around her every day, especially when the season starts.

_________

“Drew, bro, if you spray me with that shit one more time, I swear to god, I will beat your ass.” I glared at him as he hid behind Jose, who put his hands up in surrender. I should not have bought him that water gun.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Azzi, who kept looking around, then back at her phone, repeating the process. I kicked her in her shin. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?” Azzi complains, rubbing her leg. “Who are you looking for?” I say, glancing around.

She looks back down at her phone. “Nobody. Just people watching.” I scoff. “Bullshit, are we being spied on, or what?” She shakes her head, looking up around once more. “Okay, bro, what’s going on? Who’s ass do I have to beat?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t beat Ohio, let alone anyone else.”

I sit back in shock, putting my hand on my heart as I feign offense. “Okay, their defense was so unexpected. You can’t even put that on me.” She shrugged, looking back at her phone and standing up. “Where-”

“Bathroom.” she mutters. I watch as she practically sprints away. If only she did that shit in practice. I shake my head.

I open my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through instagram, ignoring the thousands of times I’ve been tagged in pictures that I’d taken with fans today. Suddenly, I freeze.

It’s a post by the official UConn women’s basketball team. It’s a picture of CJ in her Texas jersey, the number 43 on the front. Her hair is in her signature bun, hair slicked back carefully, as she drives towards the basket. The caption reads “Welcome CJ West!”

What the fuck?

I’m in such a state of shock that when Azzi comes back, I don’t notice the figure next to her. I glance up at her, then back at my phone. “Yo, Azzi, have you seen this?” I look up at her again, and this time, I let my eyes flick to the person next to her.

CJ.

Forgetting what I’d just seen, my jaw drops as I take her in. She’s just as beautiful, if not more, as she was the last time I’d seen her. She’s wearing a basic casual outfit; a plain white crop top, paired with blue jeans, and gold jewelry that always makes her hazel eyes seem brighter. Or maybe that’s just how they look naturally.

“Oh, shit.” I whisper, clearly in awe. She rolls her eyes.

Fuck.

“Hello to you, too, Paige.” Double fuck.

That fucking voice.

I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Hey, CJ.” I breathe. The lighthearted air is swallowed by suffocating tension as I make eye contact with a stranger.

“Oooookay…” Azzi says, clearing her throat. “This is about as awkward as I’d thought it’s be…” she mutters. CJ looks at her. “I told you.”

I look between them. “What’s going on?”

Azzi looked at CJ expectantly, gesturing to her to speak. CJ rolled her eyes and huffed. “I-uh, I have news.” CJ glanced between Azzi and I. She cleared her throat as she picked at her earlobe, a habit she’d picked up when she was younger. I’d always hold her hand to stop her, and I want to do that more than anything right now. I think I’ve lost that right, though.

“I’m transferring to UConn.”

My eyes flick to Azzi’s who’s jaw drops. “Really? How-Why?”

CJ shrugs, trying feign carelessness. “Better environment, Texas heat ain’ my thing.” To the normal eye, CJ’s behavior could be seen as normal. But to me? I see the way her eyelids flutter, the hesitation behind her pretty lips, and the way her eyebrows raise just slightly. She’s a good liar.

Just not good enough.

I don’t say anything, though, not when she gets dragged away by Drew and Jose, not when Drew practically begs her to stay and hang out with us, and certainly not when she’s sat in front of me on the ride Jon chooses. I don’t say anything when the boys get swept away, and it’s just the three of us, like it always used to be.

It’s only when Azzi goes to the bathroom, leaving us alone for the first time in years that I say anything. “Try not to kill each other, please.” She orders as she scurries to the restroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and I can almost see the relief on her face when she thinks I’ll hold my tongue.

Unfortunately, I’m nobody’s peace.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my black cargo pants. She looks up at me. “Uh-just for the week, gotta move outta my dorm, and it’s a long drive, so.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You driving on your own?”

CJ nods. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep in my car or something.” I shake my head. “No fucking way, bro, you serious? That’s like a twenty hour drive.”

She crosses her arms. “So? That’s how I got here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ on your own.” I say. Truthfully, I knew she’d be fine on her own, but something about her driving back to Texas, just to go back to Connecticut, doesn’t sit well with me. I’m only concerned for her safety. Or at least that’s what I decide to tell myself.

She scoffs. “What, you’re gonna come with me?”

“I could, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. Didn’t even wanna see you today.”

I turned to her. “Seriously, dude?” She looks at me. “Yes, seriously.”

I roll my eyes. I know I hurt her. I know I fucked up. But that was three years ago. We were kids. I was eighteen. I can legally drink now. It’s been three years. How can someone be upset for that long? “You gotta get over it one day.” I say before thinking about it.

I regret it when I see a flash of hurt on her face. “Get over it? That’s easy for you to say, Paige.” she spits out harshly.

Ouch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, even though I know exactly what she meant. “Exactly what it sounds like. You get over shit quickly.” She shrugs. Her nonchalant tone pisses me off more than the words. I take a step towards her. “I didn’t ‘get over’ anything. There was nothing to ‘get over’. You were just jealous-”

“Jealous?” She interrupts incredulously. “Paige, you stuck your tongue down her throat!”

“And that pissed you off. Hence, jealousy.” I shrug.

“You were my best friend! It’s not fucking jealousy, it’s betrayal!” She practically yells, taking a step closer, our toes almost touching.

“I didn’t betray anybody! I was drunk! She was drunk! And I apologized afterward!” I say, trying to ignore the way her scent invades my senses.

She laughs dryly, taking a step back. “Right, you’re right. Yeah, an apology fixes it all.” I blink. “Really?”

CJ stares at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” she says, and the only emotion I can pick up is anger. “I know.” I whisper.

Just then Azzi comes out of the bathroom, looking between us. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” We say at the same time, and Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Aaaalrighty then… Can we find the boys, I’m ready to go.”

I nod and begin to walk behind Azzi, but I don’t miss the way CJ looks at me. I’m no expert, but if I know one thing, it’s the gaze of someone who’s been heartbroken.

I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it every time I’ve looked in the mirror for the past three years.

__________

“There’s no way you’re driving to Texas by yourself.” Azzi gapes from the corner seat of the booth. Jose convinced Paige to drive us to some random diner. She’s so easy.

I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my sprite. “Bro, you sound like Paige.” I grumble.

“The fact that I’m agreeing with her should tell you how fucking stupid you sound.” she said. I look at her in shock as Paige throws her head back, cackling.

Fuck.

That stupid fucking laugh paired with that stupid fucking smile makes it so fucking hard to be mad at her. Maybe I should let it go. It has been three years…

No.

Instead of entertaining the thoughts, I opt for kicking her shin instead. “What do you think that says about you, dumbass.” She immediately shuts up, and I roll my eyes as Jon almost spits out his Dr. Pepper.

“I’ll have you know I was AP player of the year.” She defends, eyebrows furrowed. I raise my eyebrows unimpressed. “Still holding onto that, huh?”

Azzi laughs, and Paige shoots her a look. “Can we get back on task, please?” That seems to direct all the attention back to me. “Driving to Texas? All on your own?” Paige says.

“Yes. Did y’all forget how I got here? I didn’t fucking speedwalk.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna go to Texas, spend, what, two full days staying up late and packing up three years of your life, and then driving the… twenty-nine, thirty, hour trip to Connecticut?” Azzi reasons.

I blink. “Well, when you put it like that..” I mutter.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Dude, just let us come with you. We can drive you there, so your car isn’t sitting in the middle of nowhere-”

“Isn’t your car in Storrs?”

“And we can switch drivers. Stay at a hotel halfway there, and then drive the rest of the way the day after.” She finishes, ignoring my comment. Before I can answer, the waiter comes with our food.

As he sets the plates down, I look at Paige, just taking her in. She’s wearing a plain black hoodie, with some red, white, and blue shorts on. It’s not much, but she could be wearing a trashbag and still be the hottest motherfucker around. It’s almost disgusting how effortlessly gorgeous she is.

I wouldn’t mind having someone to help me get to Connecticut. It’s a long drive, and it should be an easy yes. The truth is, when she looks like that, and acts like this, and talks the way she does… I don’t know how I’m going to get through the season, let alone a road trip.

I watch her lips as she says a thank you to the waiter, quickly averting my eyes when she looks at me. When the waiter leaves, I look back up and roll my eyes at her poor attempt to hide her smirk. As much as I wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, driving alone to Texas sounded dreadful. Plus, Paige has an okay music taste. Might not be that bad.

“Fine. You guys can come with me to Texas.”

Azzi smiles, clearly satisfied. Paige grins like a madman, clapping her hands. “This is going to be fun.”

I roll my eyes for the upteenth time tonight.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

=======================

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[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat; Chapter 21: Her Life.

Parings: Wednesday x Fem reader. Wordcount: 3.5k-ish?

Summary: It's time.

Warnings: Angst. That's it, brace yourselves.

Chapter 1 ------- Previous Chapter

Her Heartbeat's Chapterlist.

Worklist

“I want to try the surgery.”

You had said that, to Wednesday.

It wasn’t just the words, it was the way you said them. Firm, steady, like a decision carved into stone. Like no amount of reasoning, no number of planned arguments could sway you.

Wednesday had tried. She had tried with everything she had to make you understand. To make you see.

“You don’t have to do this,” she had said, her voice low but trembling with a rare desperation. “There are other options. Better ones. I can find you a replacement heart. I’ll do whatever it takes. You just have to let me—”

You’d cut her off, shaking your head with that infuriatingly gentle expression that made her feel like you were the one comforting her.

“I don’t want a replacement heart, Wednesday.”

Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails biting into her palms.

“That’s ridiculous,” she hissed. “Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t a matter of want. It’s a matter of necessity. Your heart is failing, Y/N. Do you understand what that means?”

“It means I’m dying, Wednesday. I know that.”

Something inside her cracked at your words, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pressed forward, her voice rising. “Then why won’t you let me help you? Why won’t you even consider—”

“Because I don’t want someone else’s heart!” Your voice, normally so calm, had risen, “I don’t want to take that chance away from someone, to take a heart that someone else might need more than I do. Someone who could have a long, healthy life ahead of them. Someone who deserves it more.”

“You think you don’t deserve it?”

You looked at her then, your eyes filled with a sadness that made her want to scream.

“It’s not about that,” you said quietly. “I want my heart to work perfectly fine. I want to try and fix what I already have. I don’t want to rely on someone else’s sacrifice to keep me alive.”

“That’s… that’s absurd.” She stumbled over the words, her composure slipping further. “You’re gambling with your life for some misplaced sense of…of morality? You think this is noble, but it’s selfish!”

Your eyes widened slightly at her words, and for the first time in the conversation, you looked hurt. “Selfish?” you echoed, your voice quieter now.

“Yes, selfish!” Wednesday snapped, her voice breaking. “Because you’re not the only one affected by this. You’re not the only one who will lose if this surgery fails. Did you even think about that? Did you think about me?”

“Wednesday…”

“No!” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “You don’t care. You don’t care what this will do to me. If you did, you wouldn’t even be considering this. You’re so focused on what you think is right that you’re not thinking about the people who….who love you.”

There it was. The thing she hadn’t wanted to say but couldn’t stop from spilling out.

For a moment, you just stared at her, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, you shook your head. “That’s not fair,” you said softly. “You know that’s not true. I care about you, Wednesday. I care about you more than anything.”

“Then why won’t you let me save you?” Her voice cracked, and she hated how small it sounded. How vulnerable.

“Because it’s my life, Wednesday. My decision. And I need you to understand that.” you said, your voice steady again.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You don’t care,” she had said finally, her voice cold and hollow. “You don’t care about me at all.”

The look on your face in that moment, shock, hurt, something deeper she couldn’t name, it had cut her deeper than she thought possible.

And now, standing in your dorm room the next night, You were on the balcony, bathed in moonlight, your arms resting on the railing as you stared out into the night.

Wednesday replayed those words over and over in her mind.

You don’t care about me at all.

It wasn’t true. She knew that. Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. But in her frustration, her fear, it had felt like the only way to make you see how much this was destroying her.

She hadn’t spoken to you all day. She didn’t know what to say, how to fix the mess she had made. She had just sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

She had replayed the fight over and over in her mind, dissecting every word, every look, every flicker of emotion on your face. The anger, the frustration, the hurt, it all twisted inside her like a knife.

When the sun set, and the moon rose, she had finally stood and made her way to your dorm.

You turned now, sensing her presence. Your eyes met hers, and you smiled softly, a gentle, tentative expression that only deepened the ache in her chest.

Wednesday stepped forward before she could think better of it, and when she stopped, she was only a few feet away from you. For a moment, she simply stood there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to hold herself together.

“I… I shouldn’t have said what I did,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. It wasn’t easy for her to apologize, but she owed you this much. “It wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” you said, your expression softening.

“I’ve never felt fear before,” she began, her voice quieter now. “Not real fear. Not like this. But every time I think about losing you, it’s like… it’s like I can’t breathe. Like the ground is crumbling beneath me, and I can’t stop it.”

“Wednesday…”

She closed her eyes, her jaw clenching as she tried to hold herself together.

“I’m terrified,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “And I hate it. I hate feeling this way. But I can’t stop. Because I love you, and the thought of you, of you being gone, it’s more than I can handle. I’m scared of losing you. Of not being enough to keep you here.”

“You are enough,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “You’ve always been enough. But this… this is something I have to do for myself. And I need you with me, Wednesday. I need you to believe in me.”

She opened her eyes, her gaze locking with yours. For a long moment, she didn’t speak. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “But I’ll try. For you.”

You smiled, your hand tightening around hers. “That’s all I need.”

Wednesday stepped closer, her free hand reaching up to cup your face. You leaned into her touch, your eyes brimming with tears. And as you stood there, under the moonlight, holding each other close, Wednesday felt something shift inside her. The fear was still there, gnawing at her, but for the first time, it didn’t feel quite so suffocating.

You had called your dad the next day and told him about your decision. He had tried to make you understand the risks too. He had argued, pleaded, tried to reason with you. But in the end, he couldn’t say no. He never could say no to you.

And now it was happening; A week.

A week was all she had left with you before you’d be admitted to the hospital for the surgery that had haunted her thoughts since the moment you said you wanted to try it.

Seven days that felt like grains of sand slipping through her fingers, no matter how tightly she tried to hold on. Like a cruel countdown in her mind, each one ticking away faster than the last. Every moment spent with you felt stolen.

What if this was all the time she had left with you? What if…? No. She couldn’t finish that thought. Wouldn’t.

Instead, she planned.

She had taken you to your special place. The fireflies blinked softly around you. She had borrowed Enid’s music box, and Thing had been enlisted to set the mood.

Wednesday’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, a rare and precious thing. “It seems we have a habit of leaving things unfinished, but not this time.”

You turned back to look at her, confused.

“Dance with me,” Wednesday said.

You smiled, that smile that always made her feel like the world was just a little less terrible, and took her outstretched hand.

The rhythm was slow, intimate, as the two of you swayed in the soft glow of fireflies. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, yet unguarded. She felt a weight settle in her chest. But it wasn’t the suffocating kind she had grown used to. It was different, warmer.

She thought of the Raven, of how that moment had been stolen from her. But now, here, with nothing but the soft music and the glow of fireflies around you, she didn’t feel robbed. She felt… whole.

The fireflies drifted lazily around you, their light catching in your hair as the two of you swayed. Wednesday’s eyes never left yours. She could feel it, your heartbeat against her own.

The sand beneath her boots was irritating her in a way that beaches always did. But now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Wednesday found that she didn’t care.

You stood beside her, your hand brushing against hers. She wasn’t focused on the way it stuck to everything or how the salty breeze stung her skin. All she felt was the warmth of your presence, and it was enough to make her forget everything else.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked, your voice soft, almost reverent.

Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes fixed on the horizon. “It’s acceptable,” she replied, her tone even. “Though I fail to see how the gradual disappearance of a celestial body could evoke such sentimentality.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of life, and it sent a strange pang through her chest. “You didn't have to ruin the moment with logic, Wednesday.”

She glanced at you then and didn't bother to hide her smile anymore. Just you, just for you.

The music continued to play as you danced, Wednesday’s hands rested on your waist, her touch careful, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid you might break beneath her fingers.

She studied your face, every detail, every line and curve, committing it to memory as if she were afraid it might disappear.

She looked into your eyes and felt it, the world fading away.

There was so much she wanted to tell you, so much she wanted to show you. But the words felt too big, too heavy to say out loud.

“I wish I could stop time,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Why?”

“So I could stay here,” she admitted, her gaze never leaving yours. “With you.”

Your smile faltered slightly, and you reached up to cup her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Wednesday,” you said softly.

Wednesday stayed where she was, her arms crossed over her chest, watching you as you ran toward the waves, laughing as the water lapped at your toes.

You turned back to her, “Come on, Wends! Live a little!”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t move, content to watch as you splashed in the shallows.

For a moment, she let herself imagine a different reality. One where you weren’t facing an impossible decision. One where you were both standing here, on this beach, without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

But reality came crashing back, as it always did.

Your head rested lightly against her shoulder, and Wednesday felt the soft flutter of your breath against her neck. It was unbearable, this closeness. And yet, it was the only thing she wants to last forever.

She glanced at one of the blue butterflies fluttering nearby,

Save a life.

She still didn’t know what that wish on your list had meant. But right now, none of it mattered. All she cared about was you. Holding you. Dancing with you. Just this once. Just this lifetime.

The stars were out and you were lying on the grass beside her, your hand resting lightly against hers.

“Dad told me something interesting today,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hm?”

“He was planning to sell the old house to help pay for the surgery.”

Wednesday turned her head slightly to look at you, She didn’t like the idea of you losing something so important, something tied to the memories you held so close. That's why she did it.

“But,” you continued, a hint of amusement in your voice, “the bank called him this morning. Apparently, he won some kind of giveaway. Enough money to cover what he was missing.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked back to the stars, her expression carefully neutral. She didn’t say anything, but a faint flicker of satisfaction warmed her chest.

“Pretty lucky, huh?” you said, your tone teasing as if you suspected something.

“Extremely,” she replied, her voice as flat as ever.

The music was slowing now, the final notes were saying their goodbyes. But Wednesday didn’t care. She didn’t need music to hold you like this, to memorize the feel of you in her arms and the way your smile lit up the night.

Wednesday held you close, her arms wrapped around you as though she could shield you from everything—the world, the future, even death itself.

“You’ll always have me, you know,” you murmured,

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Here,” you said, gesturing around you. “In our special place. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

The weight of your words hit her like a tidal wave, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “Don’t talk like that,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I’m not trying to upset you,” you said gently. “I just want you to know that this place will always be ours.”

She didn’t respond, couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned in, capturing your lips. It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss; it was fervent and almost bruising, filled with everything she couldn’t put into words. Her lips moved against yours with a kind of urgency that bordered on desperation, as if pouring every unspoken fear, every unyielding desire, into this single moment.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands sliding up to cup her face, your thumbs brushing away tears she hadn’t even realized were falling.

You and her. Just you an her.

All the pain, the longing, the love—it was all there, laid bare between the two of you.

When she finally pulled away, her forehead rested against yours again, her breath uneven. Your hands stayed on her cheeks, your touch grounding her in a way nothing else could.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “Not in the way you think.”

She closed her eyes tightly, her jaw clenching as she fought against the tears.

“You don’t know that,” she said, her voice barely audible. “You can’t promise that.”

You smiled softly, “Maybe not. But I can promise you this—I’ll always be with you, Wednesday. In our place, in your memories, in everything we’ve shared. I’m not going anywhere from them.”

Wednesday’s breath hitched, her resolve crumbling as she nodded, unable to find the words to express everything she felt. She kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second, every taste, every feeling. It wasn’t about desperation anymore—it was about love, raw and unfiltered, spilling out between the two of you.

Just one lifetime. Just one lifetime with you. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she could ask for.

It didn’t feel real.

The week had come and gone. She thought she would feel every excruciating second leading up to this moment, every tick of the clock as a weight pressing harder and harder on her chest.

But now, standing here, staring at the sterile white walls of the hospital, it felt as if the time had been stolen from her.

Seven days? No, it hadn’t been seven days, it had been seven minutes, barely enough time to breathe. How could it be time already? How could it be now?

Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, the faint tremble in her fingers betraying the storm raging inside her. She had spent the entire week trying to prepare herself, to convince herself she could handle this. She had tried to keep her composure, to hold onto that cold, unshakable demeanor she had perfected over the years.

But now, standing here, all of that armor felt meaningless. You were going into surgery. And there was absolutely nothing she could do to protect you.

“I love you,” you had whispered, your voice barely audible “Forever.”

Forever. A concept that felt foreign, hollow, when she knew forever was slipping through her fingers. She clung to your hand as if holding on tight enough might root you to this world, to her.

But then you were gone, taken through the double doors, your hand slipping from hers with a finality that left her rooted to the floor.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words lodged themselves in her throat, refusing to come out. She wanted to scream, to demand that you stop, to beg you not to go in there, not to leave her. Instead, She didn’t move, didn’t follow, didn’t breathe. The waiting room seemed impossibly far away, her limbs heavy as if she’d been chained to the spot. Enid’s gentle hand on her shoulder barely registered.

Your father sat across from her, his face pale and drawn, his hands shaking as he gripped a cup of coffee he hadn’t touched. To her left, Enid was biting her nails that she loved so much, her eyes darting nervously toward the clock on the wall. Bianca, Yoko, Eugene—everyone was here.

Even David and a few others from the therapy group had shown up, showing how deeply you had touched their lives.

But Wednesday felt utterly alone.

Wednesday couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. She stood there, still as a statue, her dark eyes locked on the door that separated her from you. Her mind replayed every moment, every word you’d shared, every look, every touch.

Your smile, the way it lit up the darkest corners of her soul.

Your laugh, the sound that melted the ice in her chest.

Your words, soft and teasing, but always filled with warmth.

And your love. Your relentless, unyielding love, the kind she had never believed herself worthy of.

She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. “Come back to me,” she whispered, the plea falling from her lips like a prayer. She wasn’t one to beg, wasn’t one to ask for anything from the universe. But for you, she’d do anything. For you, she’d ask.

Four hours and fourteen minutes.

That’s how long it had been since they took you. Wednesday didn’t know how she knew the exact time; perhaps it was her body’s cruel way of keeping her tethered to the agony of waiting.

And then it hit her.

Save a life

It wasn’t about her at all. It was never about her.

The blue butterfly wasn’t reaching for the black one.

It was the other way around.

The black butterfly, battered and misunderstood, had stretched its wings toward the fragile blue one, desperate to keep it from fading.

You had wanted her to see it all along. That she wasn’t the monster she so often believed herself to be. That she wasn’t destined to destroy everything she touched.

It was about her saving you.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, and she didn't fight them, she was tired of fighting them. She let them fall, silent streaks down her pale cheeks as she stood there, staring at the doors, willing them to open.

And then they did.

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist: @ognenniyvolk @mally-ka @protozoario @machyishere @freakshow2501 @101rizzlrr

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love - Part 3

AN: Hey, can I be sappy with y'all a moment? When I first started this story, I was admittedly pretty proud of what I came up with but I never anticipated the amount of love it would receive, so thank you everyone! <3 I also thank you for your patience, you have all been great 😋 With that said, I now bestow the conclusion to this renegade of emotion

Part 1 - Part 2

Donatello x Reader

Pathetic. That’s the one word that keeps ringing in your ears like echoes of a bug-infested cavern, the erratic scuttling serving loudly as your reminder. In no respect towards yourself, you are. All you have done since Casey escorted you back home is wallow in bed, tossing around the agonising reprieve that you are a love-strung puppy awaiting its next pat on the head. That’s why you’ve kept texting Donnie to a minimum; cut yourself off from the source and deal with the withdrawal symptoms. Doing this has you riddled with guilt but what else are you meant to do? Everybody loves somebody, right? But you don’t want to love anybody if it isn’t him. Perceivably dramatic, yes. After all, he is still a valued friend. Currently, the way you see it, it’s best to let yourself get over this puppy-dog sickness before that friendship can continue. Again, dramatic but the only logical option with April so tantalisingly strung in the picture.

Living a life of solitude hasn’t been all bad. For starters, you’ve been able to rest your ankle. Walking on it is still a fair challenge but it’s much more manageable than it was before. These past couple of days have also given you amble opportunity to reflect, as it were. It’s kind of easy to understand why one would fall for the resident bad boy in High School but a mutant turtle living in the sewers? No disrespect to Donnie, of course, but you’re just surprised. You don’t even think about all of that when you think of him. All that comes to mind is the heavenly warmth of his eyes; the soft care in them when you would help him out in the lab or when he’d be tending to one of your bumps. Euphoria’s temptress beckons you in once more in its rose-tinted glaze as you fantasise about some superfluous daydream involving him. The sweet melodies enrapture you in this cosy bubble as you curl up in bed but the sharp force of reality is swift and knocks you down before a peak is seized.

Perhaps trying to get over this infatuation isn’t quite going as planned. Groaning out into the open air, you throw a pillow into your face and continue your muffled whining. This is so unfair. Why can’t he be the one that you don’t want? You just can’t seem to escape the fact that you need him. In your state of disarray, you’ve even tried to figure out how to become the one that he thinks about. To try and curate him into being the other half of what you’ve never had. Closeness. A deeply set solitude that seemed so alien to you before you started hanging out with him. Time is slipping at this point. You swear you must be going crazy because of it. There have been a couple of nights when you swear something - someone - has been lingering outside your bedroom. Yet, when you get up to check, there’s nothing there. Part of you hopes that it’s your long-awaited love checking up on you whilst the other screams that you have indeed lost your mind. 

As it would turn out, you’re not as deluded as you might think yourself to be. Indeed, Donatello has tried many a time to meet you in person but to no avail. Many times he has attempted to knock on your window only for his courage to crawl back into the ground and, alas, he does the same by retreating to his home in the sewers. What is he meant to do? You hardly message him if at all these days. Considering the state of injuries you’d endure, he’s worried about you. He has every right to be worried about you. What more could happen to you whilst unsupervised? He doesn’t want to be overly protective but he has valid grounds for such concern. His only assurance that you’re alright is when he sees your shadow through your curtain at night but that isn’t enough. Of course, it isn’t enough. He wants to care for you and cater to your every need and undying whim. 

If only words could do him justice in articulating how he feels about you but he has never been so eloquently spoken unless it’s with regards to the sciences. He’s yours but you’re not his. He just wants you to be with him. If he had to - if he could - he would take the light out of the stars to help you see that. Anything for you to understand just how much he loves you. These spats of poetry are easy enough to site to himself but he knows he would tumble the moment he does as much as even consider reciting such lullabies to you.

Donnie leans over his desk, head in his hands, and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time this day, ever thankful that the streets have been quieter than usual. It’s not as though he can focus on much of anything. All surfaces of his brain have been overtaken and overruled by the thought of you. At this point, he doesn’t even care if nothing happens between the two of you. More so than anything, he just wants you back in the lair. It doesn’t matter if you’ll never be more than friends, he misses his lab partner. It isn’t as though he’s been particularly subtle in his grovelling, either. Figuring out that he had a crush on April was a no-brainer but this has been much more obvious and much more detrimental. His brothers can’t seem to get him out of this funk as much as they may try. Day in and day out, it’s the same thing: Donatello sulking in his lab, staring off into space and pretending to look busy on one of his gadgets. Desperate times call for desperate measures and if he needs a smack up the head, there’s only one person for the job. 

“Come on, Donnie, when are you gonna stop beating yourself up over this?” Raph asks, palming at the desk and resting his body weight against it. 

“Oh, yes, because I stand so much of a chance with (Y/n),” his brother remarks sarcastically. 

The shorter of the two shifts his attention elsewhere, lips turning to the side shamefully. He never wants to feel bad about poking fun or laying out the hard truths of their shared situation being mutants. The bitter contempt within his brother's voice is fair given the fits of teasing in concordance with the cold facts that mutants and humans can’t be. In hindsight, he and his brothers could have treated the situation with more care. Still, as brash as he can be, Raph hates to see a family member suffering as such. Whilst his methods aren’t all conventional, sometimes it’s necessary. 

Raphael huffs and rolls his eyes. “You know what you need?”

“For you to go away?”

“No,” he responds quickly, stifling the annoyance beneath bated breath, “what you need is to get your head out of this storm cloud. Sitting around and moping all day isn’t gonna change anything. So what if you don’t stand a chance? You won’t know until you try.”

“Thank you, Raphael, your input is valuable as always,” Donnie scorns rudely once more and exhales heavily. “I think I just want to be left alone.”

As heartbreaking as it is, such a wish can be respected, especially by the turtle that frequents isolated periods when he’s in a bad mood. Raph takes his leave and reconvenes with Casey for their night of watch duty. They sit atop an apartment roof, scathing the barren area for trouble that never seems to come. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before the main matter at hand becomes the point of conversation. 

“He just needs to take action,” Raph claims as he smacks a fist down into his palm. “I know we haven’t exactly been supportive but it’s eating him up. The sooner he gets it over with, the sooner he can be done with the whole thing.”

Casey’s cheeks puff up into his hands and he frowns, only for a wry grin to quickly take his lips. “Or, he just needs the expert to give him a helping hand.”

“Oh? You’ve changed your tune.”

“Hey, as long as he isn’t trying it on with Red, I’m all good.” Jones shrugs and pulls out his phone. “Now, watch a pro at work.”

Just a few blocks down from our duo lies your rotting form within the confines of your bedroom. It feels as though the space has somehow gotten smaller these last few days. You’ve chosen to spread eagle on the floor seeing as the bed has suddenly become uncomfortable, too. Rolling onto your side, you grab your phone and flick through your music, every song you pass turning out to either be a love song or something somber. Thanks, fate. Turning out to be a great ally here. You scroll a little longer in search of a distraction when a notification takes your attention. 

Hockey Junkie: Hows the ankle treatin ya, everyone in the lair misses u

It hasn’t been uncommon for any of the gang to message you but Casey being somewhat sentimental isn’t inherently natural. You suppose it was only a matter of time. You have been quiet for a short while now. If this has been good for anything, at least you know your friends care about you. It’s only fair that you halt your pitiful oath of silence. 

Nerd’s Assistant: I can walk on it fine but I might give it another day or two just to be sure Hockey Junkie: Playing safe, gotcha Hockey Junkie: Forget that crap tho, get your butt down here, the guys think ur dead

You huff a laugh to yourself and rest your weary head against your folded arm as you roll onto your stomach. In truth, you could have returned to the lair a couple of days ago but that sinking sensation sullies your stomach any time you contemplate the idea. All the more reason to stick to this seclusion. Without knowing what to say, you put your phone down and sigh into the carpet. The sweet melodies from your speaker are almost all-encompassing until your phone dings again. Then, again and for a third time before you decide to take a look.

Hockey Junkie: Look lemme be real with you Hockey Junkie: Gap tooth aint doing so hot right now Hockey Junkie: Can you at least give him a visit? Do it for your favorite classmate yeh?

The last cocky comment goes amiss with the main picture here. What’s wrong with Donnie and what has it got to do with you? All you can think on the matter is that he misses having someone to vent about April to. No, that isn’t fair to him. There’s more to him than just being madly infatuated with her. He’s a beautiful person of vision, albeit a little on the awkward side but that just makes him all the more adorable. Seeing as you haven’t replied to a lot of his texts, he must be bloated with a bad conscience. That must be what Casey is getting at. It takes some effort but you convince yourself that Donatello indeed misses his friendly assistant and that it’s high time you make a move. There goes your vow of distancing yourself. Goodbye, vegetative bed rotting.

Walking to the lair after so much time would be alien was the route not learned via muscle memory. There’s still an unsettling energy that becomes all the more poignant with every step you take but you’re putting that down to your nerves. You should probably text first; let him know that you’re coming but you’ve already made it to the large doors of his laboratory. As your fingers trace over the smooth metal, you think about the day that started this all - the day that would mark a start to something so unexpected that it almost doesn’t seem real. This is real. The alarming beat in your chest is all too loud for it to be a dream. It’s now or never. Taking a deep breath, you knock and pull one of the doors to the side, revealing the beaten-down turtle surrounded by unfinished projects and forgotten inventions alike.  

He slumps further and throws a hand up loosely. “I know you’re trying to help but I already said-” He stops speaking when he turns around and sees it’s you. 

You wave awkwardly with a just as clumsy smile to greet him. He springs up to his feet and bounds towards you, going in for a hug, only to stop himself just a few steps in front of you. That’s too much too soon. Your arrival is just so unexpected but by no means is it unwelcome. Many questions. There’s a lot he wants to ask and much more that he wants to say, like how much he’s missed you, how concerned he’s been, or please, never do that again. 

Instead, he says the only thing he can rationally think to, “How is the, uh, ankle doing?”

“Much better. Some positions still hurt but…” You do a little spin on the spot to demonstrate how much you’ve healed, laughing shortly. “... I can walk now at least.”

Donnie laughs as well, glad for that much. “So, no more injuries I need to worry about?” he asks playfully with raised brows. 

“Nah~” you resound melodically, winking with a waggishness. “Sorry to disappoint, Doc.”

Not a disappointment at all. Knowing you’re in good health, at least physically, is a huge relief. Between the shared chortling and the all-together prospect of dismantling the initial awkwardness, it’s great to have you back. It’s good to be back and you’re inwardly scolding yourself for depriving yourself of pleasant company. An aching heart can make you do stupid things and you’re about to realise just how stupid going quiet was. Donatello rubs the back of his head and seems to look everywhere but at you. 

“So how come you never messaged?” he asks slowly. “I got worried.”

There’s the guilt you had expected but you didn’t realise it would be so gut-wrenching. He’s trying to mitigate how hurt he was but it’s clear as day on his face. You contemplate reaching for him as extra consolation, finger flickering towards his. Instead, hold onto your forearm and tilt your head shamefully.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to worry anyone, especially not you. Just needed some time to myself, I think. You know, reflect on stuff.” Ah, he thinks to himself, Casey stuff no doubt. You blow off a cackle and shrug. “Without sounding like a complete pessimist, I think it’ll be easier to accept that no one could ever fall for me.”

You play it off as a joke - for the most part, that’s how you meant it - but he isn’t having that for a second. His hands jolt for your shoulders unexpectedly. Nothing follows and your wide eyes blink furiously with the abrupt action. 

“Donnie?”

Still, nothing. Gaze turned downwards, he just holds your shoulders, as though he’s thinking long and hard about something. He is. He’s thinking so very hard about this. Even the risk of making a fool of himself can’t scare him out of doing it now. There’s only so long he can carefully tread on this ice before it eventually breaks beneath him and swallows him whole. One might argue that’s not as bad as flat-out rejection but he doesn’t care anymore. It’s time to put those words to the test. 

He breathes deeply to collect himself, to avoid falling into a blubbering mess, and closes his eyes before getting straight to the point. “I know I could never stand any chance with you, as much as I like to pretend that I do, but I’d like it to be known at least. Even if you could never feel the same way, just know that you are loved - that you’re worth loving - and that… I’m in love with you. Don’t ever say stuff like that because it’s not true.”

All you can do is stare. Had he kept his eyes open, he would have witnessed your face shift into every conceivable expression whilst you tried to unpack what had just been said. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Both could be an option were you not so stunned to the point of near incapacitation. The lack of response is jarring yet still, he can’t bring himself to look at you. 

“Oh my God,” you suddenly wheeze under a whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, you’ll surely burst into tears. “Are you for real?” Confused, he goes to answer but you continue. “Donnie,” you breathe more weakly, “I have been hopelessly in love with you for weeks and now I’m hearing that you feel the same? In all this time where I’ve been in my own head. I just thought that- with April-” You cut yourself off and step back, jerking your shoulders away from his clutch. “No. There’s no way. This isn’t funny, Donnie. Just stop.”

There’s a brief period of chronostasis - a beautiful phenomenon in which time stills and he has the space to reflect on what has just sputtered from your mouth. He almost can’t believe it and, it seems, you can’t believe his own words either. He wants to jump with joy, spring with glee, and throw it in his brothers’ faces for ever doubting such circumstances. The overconfidence can wait. At this moment, it’s just the two of you with this air of reconciliation, though dampened by doubt. Your doubt. 

He holds a hand out to you only for it to clasp into a soft fist. It would be easy to act on the defensive but that wouldn’t amount to anything. If it’s evidence you seek, so he shall provide. He walks over to his desk and retrieves a small box - the same box that you had snooped on the other week, the one containing the quaint, little bracelet that is surely meant for April. That’s what you assumed, which is why your heart clenches tightly. He carefully takes it out of its packaging and fawns over it in a moment of vulnerability. You’re awaiting words of inclination towards the redhead but he remains silent. A green thumb skips over the turtle charm and Donatello outstretches his other hand to you. Wearily, you oblige and bestow yours to him. He cups the back of your hand and turns it over so that he may place the delicate-looking jewellery in your palm, making sure the charm is turned up on its backside. You frown at his peculiar behaviour, only to realise that something is inscribed on the turtle’s underbelly: your initials. 

When it all comes to light, your head turns up to meet him again. He’s glanced away shyly but there’s an awkward smile on his lips. One would think that this shared admittance is something to be celebrated with a fantastical display but it feels much too surreal. You have this horrible vision of waking up in your room, finding this to be another one of your crazed dreams. When he finally meets your stare, those fears vanish. Wild imagination or not, you could never replicate that warm glow of those maroon eyes. Even thoughts of being embarrassed about the tears in your own couldn’t ruin this moment. You fawn over the little bracelet again and shimmy it onto your wrist. The exchange is silent but there’s an ambient comfort: an unfamiliar familiarness that paves way between the two of you and closes the gap you’ve both been aching to be rid of. Neither of you is well-equipped with your words, so this alteration best suits the moment. Everything that has come to be may have been born from unrequited feelings for your friends but the birth place doesn’t matter. Value is held in each other’s happiness and simply loving one another unconditionally.

You lean up, lifting yourself on your good foot mostly, and kiss him on the cheek. His inelegant grin drops and you’re sure the tassels of his mask would have flickered up if they obtained sentient life. A primrose hue blossoms his face - one that you become well-acquainted with when he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead. With you both soaring ever higher, he pulls you into a long-awaited embrace, holding you close as your bodies transcend orbit and go off into the stars. 

Man, he sure does love being a turtle.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

The Bluest Eyes

Chapter 3

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter

You awoke with the first rays of dawn.

A short groan left your lips as you stretched, feeling the bones in your back pop and snap, though you didn’t get far with the heavy arm thrown across your waist. Warriors’ arm, you realized when the hero beside you let out a sleepy murmur, not yet awake. 

You couldn’t help but grin, not quite able to believe that this hadn’t been a dream. The fighting and arguing… the confession…

Warriors’ arm tightened, pulling you closer, and you felt him press a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, eliciting a full-body shiver in you. Only then did you notice the… other thing pressing against your thigh through the material of his pants. 

You bit your lip, wondering how to proceed. It had been a long time since you had felt this flustered, and even longer since you had felt intrigued by something of this manner. Being one of the two primary healers in the group, you had seen your fair share of the boys without their usual layers–the furthest being Wild in only his underwear after getting slashed in the abdomen–but you tried not to think too deeply about that when Wars was right next to you, though you were sure he wasn’t even aware of his actions. 

Yet, your mind supplied in a tone that was most unhelpful, and you hoped to Hylia that the remaining dark would be enough to conceal the flush of your cheeks. You had always found Wars attractive, but now… well, you weren’t sure you could be blamed for your actions the longer you spent in close proximity to that godly body of his, practically bursting with lean muscle that you could have spent an eternity studying. His broad shoulders and trim waist were nothing to laugh at, either, as was the delicate, kissable curve of his lips and tortured slope of his cheeks. 

You were torn back to reality when Warriors shifted again, groaning in a tone that sounded far too coherent for your liking. “You’re up…” his head tilted slightly and you just knew he was looking out the window. “...Early.”

“It’s only dawn,” you responded somewhat defensively, shivering when warm breath ghosted over your neck. “I’m usually awake to,” he pressed the first of many open-mouthed kisses to your neck, arm caging your body to the bed, and you had to take a moment to process the molten heat that shot down your spine. “T-take inventory and… help with… breakfast–... Wars–”

“Is this okay?”

He gave you another kiss, teeth scraping the sensitive flesh in a way that had you freezing in your tracks. A low hiss filtered past your lips when his tongue laved over the area, reaching his unoccupied arm up to tangle in your hair, gently pulling your head to the side for better access. You shivered, hands fisting in the sheets as you considered your options; relinquishing partial control to another person was never something you considered, but you had been hoping for a distraction after the insanity of yesterday. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, coming to a decision. You were curious and, well, there was no time like the present to satisfy it. Warriors chuckled against your skin, nosing tenderly against your skin for a moment before latching onto a particularly sensitive spot, drawing a soft yelp from your throat. “C-Careful– I don’t–”

As much as you loved him, you’d rather not have to explain to Hyrule–or any of them, for that matter–why there were hickeys on your neck, because that was not a conversation you’d want to have with a group comprised entirely of men. 

But Warriors merely chuckled against your skin, pulling back to flick his tongue against the pointed tip of your ear. “Relax, princess, it won’t leave a mark,” he paused and you all but heard the smirk in his tone. “Not where anyone can see, anyway.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” he said, and you almost smacked him right then and there. Almost. 

“Har har.”

Warriors pulled back further, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his stupidly handsome face before it was diving back into your throat. Having regained a bit of your sass, you took the opportunity to grasp him by the hair, tugging the silky locks gently. His hand slid down to rest on your waist, fingers digging softly into your flesh through your nightgown. “Wars–”

“Yes?” his lips shifted from the side of your neck to the barest beginnings of your collarbone, and you stuttered out your next words. 

“W-What about your meeting?”

He detached from your skin just to stare up at you with the most perfect deadpan you had seen. “At dawn?”

You gulped, feeling a bit sheepish, but nerves were no joke. You had scars–many scars–from the war and a small part of you worried that he would be repulsed, or worse, too aghast to continue, despite the fact that you knew he had scars too. Your heartbeat felt frenzied, like a miniature war drum in your chest, and the soft attention he lathered your skin with both amplified and dampened the nervous feeling pooling in your lower belly. Hands clenching, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for–

“What’s wrong?” Warriors was suddenly above you, expression dampened with worry. The flush decorating his cheeks dimmed some as he took in your face. “W-We can stop if this is too much, I have no intention of–”

“Wars,” you cut him off, sitting up on your elbows, then your butt. “Why do you love me?”

“I– are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you deadpanned, frowning slightly. “But I’d be a lot better if you answered my question.”

A beat of silence passed. Warriors watched you carefully, eyes searching desperately for any semblance of a clue to your mood, but all he saw was insecurity in your averted gaze, the hesitant slope of your expression, and the way your fingers fiddled against each other in your lap. 

“...You’re insecure, aren’t you?”

Your eyes snapped to him, bright with surprise, and Warriors knew he had hit the nail on the head. With a deep sigh, he took both your hands, holding them in his own, the calluses pronouncing his life’s work for all to see. Yet, no words fell from your lips, so he leaned forward and closed the gap himself. 

The kiss was soft, with a certain air of hesitancy that lasted no longer than it took your hands to re-tangle in his hair, holding him in place in the same manner he had done for you. When you separated, he took the first available second to pull your body into his lap. You went easily, willingly, settling on his thighs like you belonged there. 

“I could tell you,” the captain paused, mostly for effect and partly to see the way your expression instantly grew curious. “Or I could show you.”

You blinked once, twice, and the realization crashed down on you harder than a wallmaster. Cheeks hot with embarrassment at the implications of that particular quip, you wondered how the hell you had ended up like this with him. 

It was like a dream–one that had come true instead of fading into nightly obscurity–and you felt woefully unprepared to handle this situation without cherry red cheeks. Then again, this was Warriors, the hero you had been sweet on since you practically met, and a small part of you knew that he was far from the type to allow someone to wallow in their insecurities, which was almost a scary though until you looked into his eyes; swirling with sincerity and another hooded with emotion you didn't dare place. 

“...What do you want from me?” you whispered against his lips. 

“From you?” Warriors was silent, hands tracing down the curve of your spine to rest on the tops of your hips, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. “I want everything.”

“Everything?” you parroted, as disbelieving as you were intrigued. 

“Everything,” he repeated. 

Maybe it was the way his smile shone brighter than the approaching dawn, or perhaps it was the addicting lull of your newfound freedom, but you didn’t dare question the hero further. He was going to be the death of you, but you had no doubt that it would be worth it. 

You kissed him, and there was a definite, passionate change in the motions that had you wondering how you had survived thus far without it. The captain made an approving noise when you deepened the kiss, tightly gripping his hair with one hand while the other cupped the back of his bare neck. His own hands drifted to splay over your backside, fingertips barely skimming the bottom of your ass. 

Your breath hitched when he gave the softest of squeezes, but the sound was swallowed down when his tongue slipped into your mouth and life felt a whole less real for a hot minute. Your hips shifted forward, pressing against the straining bulge in his pants. Warriors’ chest at the contact, and you couldn’t help but repeat the motion, rolling against his crotch with purpose, eliciting a deep groan from him. 

When air became a necessity, you pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. The arm around his neck shifted so your palm was pressing directly against his left pectoral, feeling the warm muscle tense under the movement. 

Slowly, you brought your head to his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin before you. One of his hands trailed up to stroke the small of your back, the other sliding to rest on your covered thigh, and, Hylia, was he trying to kill you? You tried not to shudder when the pads of his fingers dug into your flesh, but he was far too observant. 

“Do you like when I touch you, (Y/n)?” he asked, tone full of devious promise, and your body practically trembled with anticipation as he got to the crux of the statement. “Do you want me to touch you more?”

“Yes,” you said with only a millisecond’s hesitation. The way he said your name had goosebumps racing up your arms, and there was no way in Hyrule he hadn’t noticed already. “Please.”

“As you wish,” Warriors answered, cupping your ass in a far firmer grip as he reached up to stroke a single finger over the tented peak of your left nipple through the fabric of your nightgown. Your body instinctively jerked, but the hand on your ass kept you in place as he continued his exploration. It was all over when he gave a curious pinch to the nipple, and you clamped a hand to your mouth, muffling the moan leaving your lips. 

Warriors tutted, hand snapping up to tug your own away, holding it in a gentle grip. “None of that, I don’t want to miss a single noise you make, understand?”

Your cheeks flared hotly as your heart did a funny little flip in your ribcage, nodding somewhat dumbly. The captain stared for a moment longer, only releasing your wrist when you gave him a small smile, hands wrapping around you in search of the clast of your gown. He unhooked it with ease, pulling it off your shoulders and allowing the fabric to pool in your waist. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, releasing his hair and letting your arms fall limply at your sides. 

The hero’s expression shifted to pleased, eyes flicking down to gaze at your bare chest. A crimson flush bloomed over his cheeks the longer he stared, and your mind constricted at the mere thought of him liking what he saw. 

Calloused hands rose to cup your breasts, thumbs sliding tenderly over your nipples as he gave a soft squeeze. You let out a sigh–breathier than you’d like to admit–and leaned into his touch, drawing a satisfied rumble from the captain’s chest. Almost entranced, you watched as his head dipped down, only yelping when a hot tongue licked up your sternum. But Warriors was far from done, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you in place while he took a neglected nipple into his mouth. Your body jerked impressively, nearly bending flat over his arm as you struggled to process the sensations. “Wars–”

A soft pop echoed through the room when he pulled away, leaving behind a very wet, very chilly nipple. 

“That’s not my name,” the hero’s voice thudded in your very skin as his face remained half-pressed between your breasts, clearly enjoying their softness. 

You gulped at his tone, but who could blame him? You had called him by a few names since your first meeting–some of them not particularly flattering–but he had a point. A good one. 

“Link,” the word felt slightly foreign on your tongue, but the way he perked up made it all worth it. “I–”

“Yes?” he asked with a soft expression and, Hylia, if that wasn’t the cutest thing you had seen today. 

You responded by pulling him in for a kiss, moaning slightly when his hips slowly rocked against your core. It was commonplace for you to forego underwear when you slept, and there was no doubt in your mind that you had likely been dripping since the very first kiss. Warriors responded by gathering your boobs in his hands once more, pinching both of your nipples simultaneously to see your reaction. And what a reaction it was–you moaned into his mouth, jerking forward instead of backwards, and unintentionally toppling the both of you. Warriors grunted as his back hit the mattress, and you were too stunned to speak, laying on his chest with your hips in the air. 

Ever the opportunist, the captain took the opportunity to grab your ass tightly, grinning up at you. “Eager, are we?”

“Says you,” you responded by gesturing to the tented bulge in his pants with a deadpan expression. “You’re just a pot calling the kettle black at this point.”

“Can I be your pot?” he asked without missing a beat, and you laughed loudly despite the current situation, scooting forward to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Whatever you want.”

Warriors’ grin grew and he palmed your ass with astounding vigor. “Are you sure you want to give me that kind of freedom?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don't question it, captain.”

“As you wish,” he said, gripping your hips tightly and flipping your positions. You yelped as your back collided against the bed with a soft thump, but the sensation of Warriors scooted between your prone thighs quickly distracted you. He leaned over you–arms on either side of your chest so as to not squish you–with a heavy stare, so deep that you had the urge to look away. His bulge pressed against your core, just barely clothed by the cream-colored edge of your nightgown. 

You held his gaze, nervousness pricking your belly as you waited for his next movement. Soft as silk, one of his hands traced down your side, over the fabric of your dress, and skipping to stroke your thigh. A wave of disappointment crashed over you, but you quickly recovered when he bent down to lap at your right breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth like it belonged there. “Ah– Link!”

Warriors’ gaze snapped up, hand practically digging into your tender flesh. “Say that again.”

You blinked, but quickly complied at the dark look in his eyes. “L…Link?”

The captain delivered a sharp nip to the sensitive peak in his mouth, and you nearly bucked him off from the way your chest shot up. “Don’t hesitate, I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Core clenching, you nodded, keeping true to your word when he detached from the first nipple, leaving it wet with spit, and focused on the second one. “Please, Link!”

“That’s it,” Warriors murmured through a mouthful of boob. “Hylia, you’re perfect.”

Perfect. 

No one had called you that in forever, and while you didn’t doubt his sincerity, a small part of you hesitated at being called that. It was the same part that refused to allow yourself receive medical care when there were others suffering unimaginably harder, among other things, and now it was rearing its ugly head once more. After all, how could you be perfect when they existed–

Abruptly, all sensations stopped and Warriors’ face loomed in the center of your vision, expression unhappy. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he beat you to the punch. 

“Stop that,” Warriors tone was harsh, but the look in his eyes was all the more heartbreaking. Your jaw shut with an audible click. “I can see it all over your face, and I’m only going to say this once: don’t you dare, (Y/n).”

There was a lump in your throat from the intensity in his gaze. “Wars–”

“No,” he said firmly, sighing when you flinched. A hand stroked your chin kindly. “I can’t–... no,  won’t allow this anymore. If you don’t start loving yourself, I’ll have no choice but to show you myself.”

The line was delivered with such conviction that it took you a moment to process the implications behind that particular statement, but the crimson flush that spread over your face like a raging wildfire could have put Legend’s tunic to shame. 

“You– excuse me?”

“You’re not fucking excused, now–” he paused to haul your hips into his lap, sitting back slightly. The hem of your nightgown slipped to your waist, revealing everything to his sharp gaze. “–this is your last chance to stop me. Do you understand?”

Warriors waited for you to come to an answer, rubbing comforting circles on the flesh of your thighs. The look in his eyes was soft, and you knew he would stop if you truly wanted him to. That being said, you had denied yourself for so long, and maybe, just maybe, it was time for you to get what you wanted. 

“Yes,” you responded slowly, heart flipping when the corners of his lips quirked up. Warriors shuffled backward until his face was level with the raised scar on your stomach, a painful memory of your life during the war, and dipped down to kiss the center of it. Your abdominal muscles shook in an attempt not to jerk, but he only chuckled, licking a stripe up the area. “Hylia, Link–!”

You could hardly think when he went further down, face hovering over your bare cunt with an expression that had your thighs clenching together. Until he pried them open with a tut and very disappointed expression. “Don’t hide from me, I want to see all of you, alright, (Y/n)?” and, just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. “I’m not above teaching you a lesson if that’s what it takes.”

With that, he dipped his head and you squealed at the sensation of his lips connecting against your most sensitive parts. Warriors laughed into your folds, hands holding your hips steady as his tongue darted out to lick a thick line up to your clit, flicking the swollen bud in a way that had you screaming his true name. You had no idea where or how he had learned this, but, by Hylia, did you never want to stop. 

It only got worse from there. Warriors grew bold, sealing his lips around your poor bundle of nerves and sucking with delicious pressure, prodding a finger at your slick entrance while his other arm wrapped securely over your lower stomach. You moaned when it slipped in, much thicker than your own, and fisted your hands in the sheets. 

As if on cue, the captain began to pump his finger, allowing you ample time to adjust before pushing a second one into your soaked cunt, scissoring them against your gummy walls like he was searching for something. Of what, you had no idea, arching into his mouth with a heady cry. 

Until they curled up, brushing a spongy spot within you, and it was as if you had completely lost control of your body. Every single one of your nerves fired at the overwhelming pleasure, and it wasn’t surprising when your torso shot up, curling harshly over his form with your hands on his back. Warriors chuckled, but didn't pause for a second, lapping at your cunt like his life depended on it, all while his clever fingers nearly drove you to madness. “L-Link, oh my Hylia, please–”

There was a coil in your belly, growing tighter and tighter until Warriors’ body suddenly rose up, pinning you to the bed with a soft shove as his hand pinned your wrists to the sheets. You gasped in shock, but it quickly became a whimper when he pressed the heel of his palm to your clit, fingers still working furiously. 

“Tell me you’re beautiful,” came Warriors’ voice, and you could only stare blankly at him. 

“W-What?”

“Say it,” the captain demanded, bending closer. “Say you’re beautiful.”

You blinked through the pleasure, realizing just how serious he was. “I don’t–”

Warriors pulled his fingers from your cunt and the loss of sensation shocked you to silence. “I want to hear you say it, and don’t you dare try to lie to me, or I’ll stop right here, right now.”

Your mouth opened and closed, belly broiling with leftover pleasure. Your cunt throbbed, and you finally realized what his aim was. Righteous annoyance rushed through you, but his expression was too serious to fight. “Wars, you can’t–”

You yelped when he pinched your clit, eliciting a spike of electricity up your spine. “Try again, princess. We’re not leaving this room until you admit what everyone but you already accepts, so don’t try me.”

You shivered at the threat, cheeks burning as he watched, clearly expecting an answer. You knew you could have demanded he leave, but… 

“I–” you gulped, averting your eyes in shame. “–’m beautiful.”

A slapping noise rang through the room when Warriors smacked your thigh–not hard enough to hurt, but enough to leave a message. His expression was the epitome of disappointment, and you immediately felt bad. “Again, and look at me this time, or I’ll keep you here until you can say it without flinching.”

Your throat felt dry as you forced the words out again–

Smack!

–only to be rewarded by yet another tender slap to the soft part of your belly. The beginnings of tears pricked the corners of your eyes; he was far too sharp for his own good and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. 

“It’s not good enough, (Y/n),” Warriors said softly, gently smoothing over your skin. You sniffed, trying not to cry because you really didn’t want his pity.

A warm thumb swiped over your cheek and Warriors smiled tenderly. 

“It’s okay,” his hand traveled back down to your cunt, pushing two fingers into your weeping entrance. “We’ll learn together, okay?”

You nodded. Slowly. Hesitantly. 

“Good girl,” the words slipped from his mouth softly, and you felt yourself clench when he curled his fingers up, striking that spongy spot within you with terrifying accuracy. The way he stared at you was anything but gentle. It was intense, and you could have sworn his gaze had stripped your soul bare, laying it before him like a feast. “Tell me again. Please?”

You tried, you really did, but the words felt dry in your mouth, and the vicious pumpking of his fingers made it impossible to focus, especially when the heel of his palm bumped against your clit with every thrust. The coil in your belly had returned, winding tighter with each second that passed, leaving you teetering over the precipice. 

“You’re doing great,” Warriors cooed down at you, hissing when your hips brushed his undoubtedly aching bulge. “Say it again, for me?”

You did, unable to process anything else but the shape of his fingers and the deliriously-delicious clenching in your stomach, and, this time, he didn’t stop. You screamed his name when you crashed over the edge, aided by the talented thumb jamming down onto your clit. Your whole body jerked as what you could describe as a spiritual experience crashed over you, shattering any and all semblances of sanity within you. Warriors was speaking, voice high with something resembling shock, but you were oblivious, collapsing into the bed as dark spots danced in your vision. 

“Holy shit,” was the first thing you heard. “You…”

You craned your neck to peer at him, and nearly died inside when you realized that he was wet. Clear droplets of liquid clung to the defined muscles of his abdomen, some even sticking to his shoulders, but the most priceless part was the look of complete and utter bafflement on his face. 

“...like a waterfall!”

You tried not to cringe at the description, but he was right. It was obvious what had occurred, and you were nearly in shock that he had gotten you to squirt on the first try. The sheets were cool as you reclined on them, still shuddering from the aftershocks of what had easily been the best orgasm of your life. Your gaze dropped as you caught your breath, only to snap up at the sound of shifting fabric, just in time to catch a glimpse of a very naked Warriors tossing his pants to the wayside. His expression brightened when he caught you looking at him, sliding off the bed, giving you a spectacular view of his chiseled ass, and quickly returning with a cup of water. 

“Here,” the hero offered it to you, and you gladly took it, sitting up on your shaky elbows to gulp the liquid down. He wiped his chest and abdomen with the corner of the sheet, and you looked on with great interest, especially when the movement caused his cock to bob enticingly. It was long and thick–far larger than you expected–with a rosy-colored head just begging to be sucked. You briefly wondered if it would even fit, but Warriors caught you staring and smirked. “Like what you see?”

You didn’t hesitate, nodding vigorously and sitting up slightly with your arms supporting the brunt of your weight. The captain easily joined you, sliding between your legs like he belonged there. He probably did, after everything that had happened between you two. You sucked in a breath when his dick rested against your thigh, a bead of precum burbling at the fat tip.

“Are you okay?” Warriors’ asked, likely out of habit. 

You nodded, feeling slightly sheepish. “Yeah, it’s just…”

A hand cupped your cheek as cerulean blues bore into your soul. “You can tell me.”

“I think I did, actually,” you tried to joke, but it felt flat. “I’ve never… done this before.”

Something in the hero’s expression changed, and he leaned forward to plant a comforting kiss on your temple. “We don’t have to go further,” he whispered, and you had never felt more loved. “I’ll wait an eternity for you.”

A giggle left slipped past your lips; he was too cute. “I know,” you said, pecking his temple in return. “Just be gentle, okay?”

“Always,” responded Warriors in a serious tone, like he was vowing the demise of Ganondorf rather than promising to be gentle during sex, but it was so unadulteratedly him that you felt your heart skip a few beats. His hands found the hem of your nightgown, deftly lifting the garment off you and tossing it behind him. Only then did he dare touch himself, guiding the head of his cock to your folds. It slid hotly against your slick, and you bit your lip in anticipation. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed, hissing when the head pushed in agonizingly slow. Your arms began to tremble, and Warriors took notice, hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap, reclining back against the headboard of the bed. You immediately slid your hands to his pectorals for balance, groaning softly when pain began to spike in your belly. “Ah– wait–”

The hero stilled immediately, tightening his grip to slow your descent. “What’s wrong, did I hurt you–?”

“Shush,” you flicked his chest. “‘S normal, j-just give me a moment.”

Cerulean eyes regarded you suspiciously, but he made no move to convince you otherwise. “If you say so,” he said hesitantly. “How can I help?”

You shrugged, but Warriors wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. He leaned forward, pressing hot, wet kisses to the side of your neck, while one of his hands released your waist to drop down to the apex of your thighs, thumb finding your clit with ease. You moaned, beginning to shake anew as you felt yourself slide down some more, periodically stopping when the stretch became too much. Warriors helped you as best he could, whispering words of encouragement into your ear with every inch of him you took. 

When your hips met his, you couldn’t help but moan as the captain leaned back, expression bright with pride, love, and a healthy bit of lust, though it was the tenderness in his smile that really got you going. It was as if he was looking at the stars themselves, and you had to physically force yourself to maintain eye contact, though it was moot when his hips jerked, drawing a yelp from your throat. Your hands clung to his biceps, feeling the corded muscle tense under your touch. 

Slowly, you began to move, careful of your still weak legs. A deep groan left Warriors when your inner walls clenched around him as you panted, barely able to control yourself with every roll of your hips. It was unlike anything you had experienced before, and there was nothing you wanted more than to experience this for as long as you could. 

Warriors took your inexperience in stride, guiding you up and down on his cock by the hips, occasionally bucking into you with a smirk to watch you cry out. When you found a rhythm, he busied himself with lapping at your bouncing breasts and gripping your ass tightly. Your hands tangled in his hair, practically suffocating his head in your chest. 

A familiar coil formed in your belly, and the captain must have noticed, because he was suddenly pinning you to the bed, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drilled into you with reckless abandon, filling the room with lewd slapping noises when he increased his pace. You cried out as the tension in your abdomen grew, wrapping your arms around his neck with the last vestiges of strength left in your body.

Warriors grunted, voice dropping an octave as he bent to whisper in your ear. “Say it,” his tone was gravelly and you could feel his thrusts becoming erratic. “Say you’re beautiful.”

“I–” stars flashed in your line of sight at a particularly world-shattering push of his hips. “I’m beautiful!”

“Damn right you are,” the hero growled, hand reaching between your legs to fondle your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you cried out when your orgasm hit you like a lightning bolt, vision whiting as your body trembled harshly. Your walls clenched impossible tight around the captain’s girth, and he followed suit with a drawn-out moan, painting your insides with his cum. “Ah– (Y/n)!”

You grunted when Warriors all but collapsed on you, face nuzzling sweetly in the valley of your breasts with an exhausted sigh. It was cute, but he was heavy and you had to do something about the copious… fluids leaking from you. 

“Warriors,” you tried, but he merely hugged you closer. “Wars, c’mon– I need to get up.”

The captain’s vaguely-unimpressed gaze flicked to you. “...Why?”

“I’m dripping,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone. Snuggling with him sounded like heaven, but you really needed to get the moon tea from your bag, lest a very unwanted surprise appear nine months from now. Warriors lifted himself just enough to slip his dick from you, a rush of liquid practically gushing from your cunt, and settled back on top of you. You cringed when it dripped down the curve of your ass, pushing lightly on his shoulders. “Oh my Hylia, Link, I’m so wet–”

“Good, means I’m doing my job,” he mumbled into your boobs, and you resisted the urge to smack him upside the head. 

“Har har, now get off me.”

With a groan, he did as asked, reclining against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest. You scrambled off the bed as soon as you were free, shuddering when slimy strings of cum slid down your legs, and tottering to the dresser on the far wall. Warriors’ gaze sharpened, eyes glued to the delicious curve of your ass and glistening wetness seeping from your used cunt, and you rolled your eyes when he very obviously licked his lips. 

“You’re not subtle,” you said, retrieving your bag from the top drawer and rummaging through it. 

“Am I supposed to be?” He shot back. You sorted, pulling a small tin from one of the inner pockets. There was a pitcher and set of cups beside you, so you poured a bit of water and sprinkled some of the tea leaves in it. “What’s that?”

You turned around, leaning on the dresser and grinning when his eyes immediately roamed your body. “Moon tea, it’s used to prevent pregnancy.”

Warriors blinked once–twice–and you had to cover your mouth to muffle your giggle when his face grew red, the realization finally hitting him. The captain averted his gaze, unusually bashful considering what had just occurred between you. 

You couldn’t hold it in any longer; giggles turning to full-blown laughter. For a supposed ‘ladies man’, he had the distinct air of inexperience–in this kind of intimacy, at least–and you finished the cup before returning to the bed. The tea tasted bitter, but that wasn’t anything new. “Don’t combust on me now– Hey–!” you yelped when he grabbed your hips, dragging you onto his lap with nary a grunt. “Link!”

The hero grinned up at you, expression filled with adoration. Your cheeks flushed as your hands grabbed his biceps, trying and failing to maintain an annoyed facade. “You’re a piece of work, Warriors.”

“I love you too,” he responded, laying his head on the left side of your chest, ear pressing directly over your now stuttering heartbeat. A satisfied sigh left him, and you couldn’t bear to be mad. “After this is over, I want…”

Your hand reached up to pet his hair, filling the resounding silence. “Tell me what you want.”

“Everything,” said your hero, and you smiled, head dipping to plant a kiss on the top of his cranium. 

“It’s all yours.”

I can't believe I'm done; what a wild ride this story was! I hope I did your request justice, @dustmold-n-dirtarchaeology, and that you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it!

[fandomobbsessedb]

Your Favorite Players Favorite Player.

Young-Il/ Frontman / In-Ho/ Player 001 x Gi-Hun's Sister Reader)

Chapter 5 / The Things We Do In The Dark

Warnings: swearing, sexist behavior, verbal assault a little bit, heavy make out scenes bordering on nsfw but not enough, blood, guns, gore. Implied physical intimacy. I got. a lil high while writing this. Blood, needles. Vomit.

“Congratulations to all of you for making it through the third game. Now, here are the results of the third game.”

My lips quivered as I watched the money fill the piggy bank, there where so many people that died in the last round, squashed like bugs on the ground, and I don’t know how much longer I could stand it.

I was sitting with Hyun-Ju and Geum-Ja along with Young-sik, wallowing in my grief over Young-mi. I found I couldn’t watch the bank anymore and turned into Hyun-ju hiding in her clothes. Her arms came around me and held me loosely. When that Shaman walked past us uttering about how we would follow her, Geum-ja started spitting and patting us down, trying to get her evil energy off of us. I felt her patting at my leg and brushing me off before moving the Hyun-ju. I slowly leaned away to give her room.

“We will once again conduct the vote in reverse order from highest to lowest.” The guards announced. “Player 456, please cast your vote. To ensure this process remains fair and democratic, starting now, disruptive acts of any kind are strictly prohibited. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Gi-hun pressed the familiar button and went to stand on his side of the room.

“Player 432.” I stepped away from where Hyun-ju and I stood together and quickly made my way down the aisle. I stopped right before the machine and shyly wiped my tears away. I looked up to the guards who appeared to have physically tensed at my sad face. I pressed X as always and went to stand with Gi-hun. When I got over to him he bowed his head down at me in a single nod, he opened his stance a bit more, inviting me in for a hug but I simply turned away and held myself. There was something cooking in his mind and I was done with all the plans and schemes to win and just, everything.

More and more players voted and the scores varied right up until the end. Jung-bae counted players that switched teams, leaving us in sick anticipation for the outcome. We only needed five more people to vote for our side and we would win. However, I had an itching feeling that something would turn.

We watched as the player right before Young-il selected O over the X. I felt the crowd around me get tight and suffocated, I turned to follow her line of sight and saw her bowing the that filthy Shaman. I recoiled in anger, feeling my insides bubble with sick, gooey, fury.

“Player 001, please cast your vote.” I turned to watch Young-il choose. He stopped in front of the console and paused for a moment and I thought back to what happened in the mingle room.

If he too was willing to kill people to win, he was almost no better than the guards and my brother. But when he turned I saw his gaze meet mine as I heard him press the X. The fear melted away from my face as he swiftly made his way towards me. That’s when I realized it. Gi-hun was here to stop the games yet had made…. Zero progress….. these guard’s jobs are to kill people, they’re just numbers to them. Young-il could’ve gone with anyone, he could’ve gone to any other room. But he chose me, he protected me, he saved… me. He was just another player but, he was given multiple chances to better his chances in the games and he didn’t, he only did that once… for me.

When he got over to me I smiled softly and took his hand, turning us back to the front to see the tied scores.

“Clause three of the consent form: Should the initial vote result in a tie, the players will vote again. To ensure you have enough time to properly consider your options, the second vote will be conducted tomorrow. Until then, please take this opportunity to think carefully about your future.”

You let out a soft sigh and grasped both of your hands around Young-ils. The endorphins from the anticipation flushed away, and all you were left with was a tired sagging body. Letting you go for a moment he quickly wrapped you in his arms and led you away towards your beds.

“Are you okay?” His heavy voice melted in my ear. I felt the warmth of his embrace slowly caress the worry inside of me. I silently nodded as a few tears escaped me. My hand came up to his arm that was wrapped around my torso holding me up and squeezed it tightly in my trembling hands.

“I’m so scared.” I whispered under my breath, facing the ground, though he wasn’t as tall as my brother he felt much… bulkier. His arms felt like a weighted blanket wrapped around me, securing me from the outside world. He whispered back reassurances to me as I silently wept into his jacket. His hug trapping me inside our own little bubble, securing me and filling my need for comfort.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down.” He suggested, keeping an arm around my waist and guiding me to a bed.

————

Gi-Hun turned away from the group to look for his sister. He saw it written earlier on her face, but had no clue how far gone she would be emotionally from the tie. Not seeing her where he left to searched the crowd for her ponytail. Only to see it walking away.

He quickly shuffled through the players to get to her until he saw… Young-il.

His arm tightly holding her waist, as if he was completely holding her on his own as he escorted her away from their circle. They disappeared into the beds. With an annoyed sigh he turned back to the group to figure out what move was next… if only he had kept watching-

————

Young-il sat me down on the bed, but not before looking off into the distance. Tilting my head up to meet his gaze. I wondered what was troubling him. If it was the same worries as me, or if he had his own doubts.

He looked back down at me, realizing I had been staring and quietly whispered. “I don’t like the split. It’s just too close to call.” He confided reaching out. I took his much larger hand into my own and traced my thumb across his knuckles in a comforting manner. Looking back down at me, he squeezed the hand I was holding, and looked deep into my eyes. He leaned in close after looking around once more and held my chin the same way he did back in the room.

“I will get you out of here alive.” He declared quietly.

“You can’t guarantee that” I whispered into his palm, my voice cracking at his declaration. He reached both hands down and squeezed my shoulders, looking like he had something else to add, but before he could, Jun-hee was coming over to the beds where we were sitting.

“They’re going to hand out food, they told us to get in line.” She said looking between the two of us. With an out held hand Young-il helped me up as we made our way to the lines.

After everyone got their food and was sitting on the steps, I slowly nibbled at my gimbap, too sick to full eat a piece. My throat felt dry and my nerves were shot. I tuned out the people around me and focused on how close Young-il’s hand sat to my thigh, like a rock, strong and reliable, it sat there comforting me in my worry. Knowing there was someone I could lean on.

“All we’ve had to eat is this dry gimbap, and when people get hungry, they start to miss home.” Geum-ja said reflecting on her own meal. I let out a sniffle and nodded my head as Jun-hee rubbed my back in response. I turned to Gi-hun who sat behind me and shakily asked him.

“When we get home, will you make me moms dak gomtang?” I pleaded. With a soft smile he nodded his head and pet my hair just like our mom use to do to comfort me.

I turned back around to finish my piece of Gimbap when I felt Young-il brush my hair away from my face to brush a piece of rice off my chest. I felt his hand slightly itch my collarbone causing my body to tense.

“Sorry you’ve just got some food stuck on you.” He told me, brushing it away and then pulling my hair over the opposite shoulder. Feeling him move my hair around sent pleasuring tingles down my spine. Followed by his hand which went to slowly rubbing my back in what was meant to be comforting, but got lower and lower the longer he brushed.

“Hey! Don't agonize over your decision while eating this dry gimbap. I just want one of you to come over to our side. If we get out of here tomorrow morning, we could get Korean beef!I'll tell you what. It's my treat!” Young Sik yelled, distracting me from my intense feel-up contest with Young-il.

“And after that, the noodles are on me!” Geum-ja laughed.

“Come over to our side! Anyone!” “Come on over!” The former Marines yelled beckoning someone over.

“Guys please don’t antagonize them.” I asked, they turned back to look at me confusingly before talking back to the other side as they whooped and hollered.

“Once you all die in the next game, we can all leave with 800 million each! With 800 million, we could buy a freaking cattle ranch!” The old guy shouted. I crinkled my nose in disgust at the general entitlement. Doesn’t he himself have 100 billion won debt????

“ That's right! You can join us!” “That's right! Come on over!” “Come over to our side!” Their little gaggle group taunted right back. Nam-gyu stood from where he had been eating and raised a hand up, using two fingers in a ‘come here’ motion.

“Hey, 432, yeah I’m talking to you pretty girl, why don’t you walk that fine ass over to our side.” He laughed a deep throaty laugh in mock appreciation. I scoffed and turned away with them, grasping at Young-il’s arm that was tensed when I got closer.

Dae-ho joined in at my disgust at the offensive display “You'll get 800 million? Who are you kidding? Do you think you'll still be alive after the next game? If you don't get out now, you're all going to die!”

The guy on the other side called back at him, “So let's play one more game to see who dies. Stop trying to run away like a goddamn coward.” He and Nam- Gyu laughed at their own theatrics. “You can run towards us though cutie, bring that hot little body over to the winning team.”

Young-il clenched his fist tightly and went to stand along with Gi-hun who knew that was a crossed line, unfortunately for them Dae-ho beat them too it.

“What did you say? Hey, come here. Come here, asshole! What makes you think you can just say that to a girl fuck face?” He marched over to them.

I just buried my face into my hands in embarrassment. I felt Young-il move to sit in front of me, effectively blocking me from their view. I pat his shoulder in appreciation. And went back to my food. My mind drifted to my thoughts about Young-il. Our shared kiss just minutes ago tantalizing my brain. It was something hot and electric and warm and welcoming all at the same time. I lightly brushed my lips thinking about how.. right… his felt against them, and how much I missed having them there.

How had a complete stranger, which I probably never would have met in ANY other circumstance, manage to wiggle his way into my heart, my life, my mind. Why did I find such comfort in him?

Was it the way I felt the structure and security from him where it had been absent in my life. Or the way that he doesn’t seem to act as though we have our own separate lives, like our life is one combined entity, that we just work for each other. How did I feel so safe with him?

A comotion caught my attention a few minutes later when the group of people that went to the bathroom came back all bloody and sweaty looking. Apparently a fight had broken out and five people died. Gi-hun deduced that we still had more people than they did, easing the nerves in my stomach a bit.

Lights out in 20 minutes. All players, please prepare for bedtime.

Nevermind…

“Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us. Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize.” GI-hun said looking over us from where he stood. He started telling some bizarre story about a ‘frontman’ and ‘VIP’s’.

“Wait this front man, what does he look like?” I interrupted.

“He wears a black mask, and a long trench coat.” He replied. I looked at him quizzically,

“How do you know?” I asked him. He sighed and ruffled his hair before turning away to look at the other team.

Okay so that wasn’t an anwser Gi-HOE.

Jung-bae sighed, “How are you going to fight them? They have guns.”

“We'll fight them with guns too.” GI-hun replied eyeing the door up and down.

“But we don't have any.” Jung-bae remarked.

“We'll take their guns.” Gi-hun nodded.

“From those masked men?” I was starting to get a bit irate with the amount of questions he was asking.

“That's too dangerous. Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered.” Young-il crossed his arms as he leaned against the poles of the beds.

“What then? Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?” Gi-hun accused, starting to stand taller and squaring his shoulders.

“Do we stand a chance?” Young-il asked remaining composed compared to my brother.

“We do if we catch them off guard. Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all.” He said, squatting down on his knees to be on a closer level to the rest of us.

“How are you going to take their guns?” I asked, almost like a jest.

“Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance. Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quietly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us. We have to hide until the fight ends. Don't get caught up in the fight. But that would put people on our side at quite a disadvantage.” I grunted and stood wiping invisible dirt off my hands, hearing his bogus plan he started sounding just like the thing he was trying to stop. Sacrificing the few for…. The few???

“Where are you going?” GI-hun asked me angrily.

“If you really have to know, I’m going to the bathroom.” I grunted, tying my hair back and stomping off.

“Y/N! They called the last bathroom round ten minutes ago!” Jung-bae yelled after me.

“I don’t care! I didn’t have to pee then but I do now!” I yelled back making my way to the door.

Young-il stood there, watching her leave. Quickly looking around the group he boldly started walking with her.

“I’ll go with her to make sure she’s okay.” He said. Gi-hun stood to try and stop them but yelled a simple be quick in response.

————

The triangle gaurd took one last look out the door before switching out his shift. When he saw player 432 storming up to the door and the player who was secretly their boss behind her, player 001, he set to work quickly unlocking the door.

————

I splashed my face of at the sink and stood there for a moment, exhaust creeping its way into my bones. I stared down into the white linoleum, a bunch in my pocket diverting my attention.

I took out the handkerchief Young-il had given me a few days ago. Staring at it I thought about the relationship between us. The stolen moments during mingle, the never ending physical contact, the doting on me,he’s like… everything I wasn’t getting from my relationship with GI-hun, the romantic love versus the familial love. That’s why I-

“Y/N” Young-il spoke up from the doorway. I jumped in surprise at his intrusions. “Are you okay?”

“Young- il, you startled me. What are you doing in the women’s bathroom?” I asked. He looked down at me with those gateway eyes, locking my attention in place on him and him alone.

“I simply wanted to check on you, you were in here for awhile.” He walked towards me quickly backing me up against the farthest wall. Almost like he was upset at my absence.

“Young-il what? What… what are you doing?” I questioned, fear written in my eyebrows. His arms came up beside me trapping me between him and the wall.

“I’m not letting you go back.” He told me, running a hand down my face a bit roughly.

“To what? The room?” I giggled. He blinked in confusion before realizing his mistaken statement.

“Yes the- the room, lights out is in three minutes and all the fighting will start. Everyone else is safe where they are.” He replied, his hand dropping down my jacket and lightly resting on my waist.

“The gaurds will make us leave event-“ before I could finish his other hand wrapped around the back of my neck like someone picking up a kitten from the scruff, the hand on my waist felt heavier and he pulled me in, smashing our lips together. After a brief moment of confused anger, I relaxed into his hold. Like there was some magic about him, I forgot about everything about to happen just a few staircases away.

His lips felt like my missing puzzle piece. The interlocking pieces showing off a whole picture. My hands rested on his shoulder when he released my neck, and in turn wrapped around my own back and pulled me in tight. My fingers traveled up to the nape of his neck, lightly pulling at the ends of his hair.

Our bodies molded together against each other like we were a marbled statue carved by the hands of a god. The feeling of unfamiliar, magnetic, desire was like seeing a flame and wanting to sit closer and closer to watch the hot carbon crackle and shift, your interest peaked. His arms now felt like those licks of fire tickling my skin, burning my face and crisping my hair.

He disconnected our lips with a heavy breath only for his face to turn into my neck, attaching and sticking like a fly on sticky paper.

Letting out an indecent moan, (Y/N) crumbled in his arms as he licked the edge of her ears, his warm breath heated her core slowly like a hot bath, seeping into the skin and melting your insides.

His hands slowly made their way from her hips upwards, underneath her shirt. He tore away from her for a moment to rest their foreheads together. He trapped her deep in his gaze. Looking into the depths of each-others souls, they lightly nodded to one another, a silent understanding.

“Don’t worry about the games, don’t worry about the world, don’t worry about your brother. I just need you to worry about being right here, right now. With me. Nobody else.” He whispered heavily into her ear. She took a deep breath and relaxed further in his hold as she felt him slowly start peeling away her sweat-pants.

————

The moment they left the bathroom (Y/N) Realized the gaurds had stayed outside the bathroom…. The whole time they were in there. With a bright pink face and mis-matching clothes she walked her way back to the room, Young-il trailing behind her.

They reached the door back into the room and noticed no guard on duty.

“Get behind me and physically stay behind me.” Young-il ordered, grabbing my wrist and pulling me. He quickly opened the door the reveling the room flashing its lights above like a rave. As splatter after splatter of blood shot into the ceiling. Young-il pushed me to my knees.

“Hey! You said we would stop that when we got back.” I whisper yelled at him. He clapped a hand over my mouth, and with his other made a shushing sign.

“Not a word, not a sound and no helping.” He seethed. He got down too and pressed us against the wall so that we had something to blend too. We quickly and quietly ran over to our beds. A few bodies tripped me here and there, and some bodies fell from above us. Everytime when I went to whimper or scream, Young-il would wrap his hand back around my mouth preventing any noise.

We got back by our beds and Gi-hun grabbed my ankle hauling me under the bed, Young-il hot behind us. For some reason the screams and blood felt even louder from below. We kept watching as bit after body dropped on the sides. Whatever sick bastard was playing with the lights was gonna give me an aneurism.

Thud

I laid my head on the ground to peer under Young-ils chin.

A nose ring caught my eyes.

A nose…….

A nose ring?

Noticing my tensing muscles, Gi-hun wrapped his arms around me and held me down. Young-il covered my mouth again as both did their best to muffle me.

“MMMMMMMMMPH, SSSMEEE, MM!” I screamed against his hand. I wiggled and fought against the two but it was no use. My breath quickened like I couldn’t get enough. My blood ran cold as I saw her brown warm eyes watching me as she died. I was suddenly hyper aware of how cold the ground was, and my sweat stuck to my body like scotch tape. When Young-il released my mouth I had cried so hard no sound left my lips. My lungs begged in unison for air but I couldn’t find it in me to let them have it, I felt like I was about to push my heart out of my body, my chest was so tight. When I could finally inhale the salty tears rinsed down my eyes, mixing with the small trickle of blood that came from under her head. The warmth of her blood drawing me in for comfort since I couldn’t reach out to her. My neck grew tired as I held my head above the puddle I was aching to lay on. The overwhelming pain of everything finally hitting me like a dump truck. My sobs didn’t go unnoticed however and Young-il gently released me and held me close to his chest as I wept. I cried against him, feeling like he was the only thing I had left in this whole world. As more terroism and destruction befell our surroundings, I felt ill, and warm, and sick, and cold, and tired, and angry, and a million different things all at once. I wasn’t sure what else I could turn to: Mentally, I screamed out, and felt like my brain was thrashing around inside of my head as I prayed to whoever might be listening to end this, to get us out of here…to get me home.

The light stopped flickering as the big ones flashed on, revealing the total carnage of the room, again the wooshing of the door opening released the guards hiding safely behind it.

The pink guards enter the room with their guns raised. One started firing into the air to get the attention of the rest of the room as the others went around apprehending the fighters.

I released Young-ils jacket from my grasp, stretching out my now stiffen fingers. I took slow and steady deep breaths in while Young-il his Se-mi from my view. Gi-hun delicately grabbed a blanket on the floor and soaked up the puddle. I slowly stretched out the rest of my body and a move to start crawling out. The tight cramped hiding place of ours suffocating me. Gi-hun and Young-il pushed me back under. Looking at them confused they simply responded by grabbing some blankets from the beds above us and draping them on the metal above me effectively hiding the rest of my body.

I watched as they laid down on the floor next to some of the other dead players acting as if they were ones too. My insides came up into my throat picturing them dead, but the logical part of my brain finally worked and reminded me they weren’t actually. Instinctively, when a guard came over, my hands flew up to my face, covering my mouth attempting to hush my breathing. I held my breath in anticipation as I watched one guard with a square mask, inspect Young-ils body. When he reached for his radio Young-il sprang up and tackled him to the floor, initiating the rest of our groups attack.

One by one guards were shot down left and right as I stayed hidden in my dark sanctuary. I couldn’t take listening to any more of the shots, so with physically weak arms, I laid my head on the ground and covered my ears, wishing it was Young-il comforting me instead. The doors whooshed shut again as one final bullet rang out across the room, like an unsatisfying end to a quiet song.

I slowly uncovered my head, daring to lift it up, so as to sneakily peer outside the open parts of the blanket. I saw Gi-hun walking up the steps, grabbing one of the soldiers by his shoulder and pushing him down demanding information out of him. The rest of our group followed his lead once they had the gaurd in captivity. They called everyone out from their hiding spots.

Deciding it was safe enough I crawled out myself and looked around, finally witnessing the total of the end of the fight. My intestines garbled and groaned at the sight of the bodies. Like it was some sick painting meant to represent something deep. Grabbing at the metal pole on the side of the bed I could feel my throat start tightening as a retching feeling came to my guts.

“BWAAGHH” I leaned towards the wall so that it at least wasn’t out in the open as I felt that nasty dried up gimbap roll coming back up.

Oh god I really hope it’s not chunky-

“BUUURGH” I retched, thankfully it was only a bit, and Geum-ja had come over holding my hair for me. After another minute or so of dry heaving, I stood up and took a breath. Geum-ja led me around to the front of the beds again, sitting me down and using her jacket sleeve to wipe the dried sweat off my face. 

“Everyone.” Gi-Hun spoke up, grabbing my attention. “We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward.”

With a breath I gently pushed Geum-ja’s hand off of mine and stood up, only for Young-ils gaze to stop me. With one finger he made a sit down motion, and strangely, I found myself obeying his wishes. Almost nobody walked up who wasn’t already in line, save for a few players who stepped up, slowly raising their hands and grabbing a weapon and radio when instructed. Seeing the lineup a few people started to disperse, still not caring about what could happen.

“ oh I hope they stay safe,” Geum-ja rung her hands in worry. Her son placed his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her in what looked like it was meant to be comforting, but came off more apprehensive. Jun-hee joined us standing around talking about what was possibly to come. Not finding any interest in their conversation, however, I slightly turned my head tuning in to what Hyun-ju was saying.

“Attention!! This is the MP5, a submachine gun. First, if you press this lever in the middle and pull the magazine,it comes off like this. If the selector switch is down, it's set to full auto mode. Up is single-fire mode.We don't have many magazines, so set it to single-fire mode. Lastly, insert the magazine, pull the handle, and then release it. That's how you load it. Are we clear?” I slightly nodded in response knowing she couldn’t see me but memorizing the information nonetheless. All attention drew back as we heard Jung-bae sounding brave, for once, and demanding the solider take his mask off.

He slowly lifted his hood off, removing a black burka next, followed by his square mask. Looking at his scared young face, I felt as though he was no different from us in here, just scared, and alone. Nobody in their line up seemed to notice, but I did, as his eyes slightly flickered to Young-ils face then blinked back to the lineup. I glared at the man questioningly as I watched Young-il give the slightest head nod. So small that you would think he was just shifting but really he was masterfully responding.

What the hell?

“Good God. Do your parents know what you're doing here?” Jung-bae slowly lowered his riffle as he looked concerningly at the man. Gi-hun pushed him away, still high off the adrenaline from shooting, something he thought he would never do.

With a demanding voice, he cocked his gun and with an unwavering tone demanded “Take us to your captain.” The group made their way out of the room following the pressured gaurd. I stood again with intention to follow. When Young-il stepped out from behind the door they had smashed in.

“You stay here.” he pushed using his hand on my shoulder to turn me around and practically shove me back into the room. With a scoff I turned back around and placed my hand on the top of his gun. “ Stay? What do you mean stay ?” I asked angrily. He shook his head and bent his neck down to meet my ear.

“ I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know where we’re gonna go and I don’t know who is going to die, but as much as I can help it, you can guarantee it won’t be you.” he said sternly. Turning back, he started following the group again. I went to take a step about to disobey his orders, but found myself stopping my feet at the edge of the threshold of the door. It was true, though I didn’t know what laid beyond the hall, however, they didn’t either. Yet I still found myself, hesitating…with a sigh as the nagging voice in the back of my head told me to listen, I stepped back and retreated into the room.

I stood slightly pacing in front of our beds, unsure of how things were going and uncertain about where they were. One gentle voice in the back of my head told me to stay and to listen to young eels command, the other, however, pushed me and bugged me to leave the room. My inner curiosity stabbing at the voice, encouraging it more to leave the room, to find out what was happening. To see this so-called front man my brother kept going on about.

Geum-ja took a breath in and looked at our small gathering. “I wonder what they’ll find up there” she started trying to distract us from our worries, “ it would be interesting to see who is behind all of this to see what sicko found enjoyment in this.” She huffed.

Weak, small talk littered throughout the room doing fuck all to try and cure my boredom as the voices in my head grew louder and louder. I couldn’t help but walk around and try to distract myself. I took another glimpse at one of the dead guard’s bodies and noticed a bulge in the side pocket.

I slowly crept towards the body, thinking it might spring back to life and attack me, I stayed hesitant. With shaky hands, I slowly undid the clasp of the pocket and reached my hand in inside. I found an extra round of ammunition, looking at it like the holy Grail I crawled over to the other side to check the other pocket and see if there was more there. Unfortunately no but standing up, I quickly gazed at the rest of the dead soldiers, and noticed all of their left side pockets seemed a bit bulky than the other pockets.

I looked over to June-hee and Young-sik and pointed at the bodies “Quick, their left pants pocket, grab the rest of the ammo!” I demanded, they quickly followed suite and helped me compile all of our findings on top of a loose jacket. I turned my head up once again to look around the room and see if there were any willing volunteers to take the jacket. All I was met with was the back of heads as they all turned away, cowardly. With a huff, I wrapped up the jacket in my arms like a newborn baby and started making my way towards the door.

“Are you sure you should do this, it’s dangerous up there.” Geum-ja worried.

“ Well somebody has to, and I don’t see anybody else volunteering.” I shrugged, opening my arm in a gesture around the room.

“Just be careful.” Jun-hee nodded at me in understanding, I nodded back and reached around her for a hug. “I will be” I closed my eyes and succumbed to the warm embrace. I heard a small sneeze and turned my head up above to see Min-su rocking his head back and forth between me and Se-mi’s body. I though he looked so scared and lost like a baby bird. I went to Se-mi but before I could bend down Young-sik pulled me away.

“Please… let me.” He said understandingly. I stepped back watching as he closed her open eyes and draped one of the yellow blankets atop her resting body. I looked back at Min-su who slowly shook his head no urging me to stay with his eyes.

“I’m going for her, and for you.” I looked from my friends body to the one atop the beds. “She will not have died in vain, and you will not suffer the same.” I vowed looking back at Jun-hee. “You’ll have your baby.” I turned to Young-sik, “You will go on living,” and finally, I looked at Geum-ja, “Your life will not end in here”. She took a deep breath and nodded at me, patting my full arms. Looking around the room I saw a few people who had watched the interaction with teary eyes start hugging themselves or some of their friends, looking like they now regretted if they should have gone or not.

“Regardless of if you had wanted to stay, or end , nobody deserves to die this way.” I grimaced at the bodies around me. Turning to the door I anxiously stood in front of the threshold, feeling that nagging voice of doubt creeping back into my brain, but thinking of what might happen if I didn’t get them the ammo fueled me even more. With a strong breath in I stepped over the entrence and started jogging down the hall.

As I came across dead guards I emptied their pockets and kept briskly walking. My shins growing sore at the tightness I kept myself in. Stopping a few times to see where the next bloody trail of foot prints left, I craned my neck up to see how high this place went. The light from above shining onto the brightly colored space, not giving much room for shadows to creep in. Following the steps higher and higher I felt almost like I was in a maze. I noticed some broken glass on the ground and looked up to see a camera shot through, now facing the ground, spotting more of them like a trail I no longer felt the decision part of my brain working, as I concluded I simply had to follow the cameras.

I counted as I stepped till I got to one that wasn’t shot through.

How did they miss this one?

I walked past before a crunch under my foot distracted me again. I look down to make sure no pieces got in my shoe, and saw the white handkerchief Young-il gave me. He had taken it back in the bathroom, it must’ve fallen out of his pocket…

Remembering his defending warning from the door I felt my stomach sink thinking about if something might’ve happened to him, and how he would react to seeing me out of the room. Part of me wishes he’ll pull me in and kiss me for my bravery, the other part of me hopes he won’t be too upset. But deep down there’s this other, scolding feeling, what if he’s really upset with me? What if he hates me for it?. I couched this white symbol of worry closer to my chest as I carried on following the broken cameras.

————

A light on the camera flickered, waking itself from its shut down state. As it slowly turned to follow the way (Y/N) walked. It recorded as she stopped to grab more ammo and zoomed into the bundle in her arms.

“The girl has extra ammunition.” The black masked guard reported on his walkie. “All triangle soilders approaching your stations, load an extra round of ammunition into your inner pocket.” He ordered, as the pink guards around him fiddled with their computers, he turned to the nearest one who was saving every moment of footage they had before their cameras where shot.

“Number 6,”

The gaurd stood and turned to face his supervisor, the right hand man of their boss the front man.

“Follow player 432” he bowed aknowledging his command and made a swift exit to catch up to her.

“Don’t let her out of your sight…”

————

I crawled on the ground almost army style, as I got closer and closer to the sound of the gunshots. Using the sleeves of the jacket to tie it around my shoulders I hastily made my way around the corner as I laid on the ground. Hyun-ju spotted me and yelled for a cover fire. The walls next to me were torn up from bullets as their non-stop rain of shots, but for a brief moment there where more shots going out then coming at us.

I noticed Dae-Ho shooting aimlessly before he looked over to me. I threw the jacket over to him as his shaking arms caught it. He opened the bag reveling the ammo and diving them out. He looked between me and the bag, and tossed me his gun. I quickly caught it making sure the barrel was aimed away from me, now my shaky arms looked around in confusion.

“DAE-HO, I’VE NEVER USED A GUN BEFORE!!” I shouted at him, inspecting the gun wearily, never thinking I would hold one. Our parents raised me and Gi-hun in a peaceful household, never in my life did I think I would ever hold such a harsh weapon. I turned to Hyun-ju but before I could ask her she yelled at me and pointed to the pink guards.

“MAKE THE CROSS IN THE SMALLER BARELL LINE UP WITH WHAT YOU WANT TO HIT AND SHOOT!” She yelled turning back to her own mission.

I grabbed it and started taking single shots at the oncoming barrage. Looking through the sniper attachment I zeroed in on one of the triangles shooting at our side. It turned towards me with its finger on the trigger. I quickly ducked down but heard more shots aimed at the spot next to me. I looked back through and saw they had turned away from me. More guards ran up behind them and aimed towards my very open position first, before they turned their attention to other spots. I looked in the air in confusion. If I was to stand up not a single bullet would hit me right now.

What the hell?

I turned to watch the shots next to me as our team did their best to return fire. Looking at the smaller size of the group I look at Hyun-ju confused.

“Where’s Young-il?!” I shouted over the fire storm, not seeing him with the others. A sinking feeling in my stomach appeared as I thought of him. The square guard from before was also no where to be found. I didn’t notice his body as any of the ones I picked clean. But all I could think of was how I might’ve been right earlier, that something did happen, oh god is he dead? Did he have to hide somewhere? Did he loose his radio?

“They went to find the control room with Jung-bae and Gi-hun.” She yelled back. We heard the radio scratch on as Gi-hun asked if they could get any back up. Without a moments hesitation I grabbed an extra two rounds of ammo and made a run for it. Wherever Gi-hun was, Young-il was there too.

————

As fast as she had loaded them, the extra rounds seemed to run out. Hyun-ju grabbed another round and counted the singular shots she made. 15 rounds…Only 15…. They were only half full.

————

Now that the walls were closer I felt even more compressed. Like a hamster in a cage. I followed the dead guards till I found Gi-hun and Jung-bae taking cover a few stairs up. When he saw me his face crunched in confusion.

“(Y/N) what are you doing?!” He yelled from above. I held up the extra rounds I brought with me and quickly stuffed them in my pockets as I felt bullets start brushing against my hair.

“Jung-bae! Cover fire!” I heard him order, always so bossy, I felt the bullets stop for a second, and ran like one towards my brother and his best friend. I passed them each a round when Jung-bae placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Young-il went up those stairs with two other men, we gave them our last rounds, they need some too.” I nodded at him, the weight of my heart as heavy as my pockets, knowing he was just around the corner but not knowing if he was okay. The walls were torn up around us, the air heavy with the smell of gun powder wafting around, further fueling my emotional state.

I side stepped to to try and push to the stairs but Gi-hun held me back.

“No, stay here, their looking for a way to get around the gaurds, we’ll move together as soon as they radio us that their okay.” He insisted. I shook my head and tried to get around him again when he harshly pushed me back.

“No (Y/N), stay. Here.” He pushed. Shoving me back again he held me to the wall with his gun. I scoffed and harshly pushed him back. “What the hell, what is your problem Gi-hun? They need ammo too!” I exclaimed.

He turned around quickly to return fire before returning his attention to me.

“Because, we haven’t heard back from them yet, they could be dead and more soilders could be coming this way.” He reasoned, a few ricocheting bullets made their way towards us as Gi-hun held me close to the wall with his arm. I struggled against him, not realizing before how much stronger he had gotten over the last few years. My weak muscles barely meeting his force.

“Ughhh! Gi-hun let me go!!” I yelled at him. If Young-il was in trouble, and I had a chance to save him, damn it. I was gonna take it.

“No, you’re staying here.” He returned. With a harsh grunt he somehow held me tighter to the wall, I pushed and pushed against him to no avail. Finally deciding that I might have to hurt him to let me go, I bent his elbow in an un-natural way. He retracted before any damage could be done and I attempted to make a run for it. He quickly caught my arm and yanked me back. With both hands on either side of my head he caged me into the wall, glaring holes through my head. “I’m not letting you leave, we don’t know anything yet!” I shoved and kicked at his chest but his stance was unwavering. As he drew in closer to me, the gun wrapped at his chest pushed heavily into mine. Feeling the heavy weight of the metal dig into my skin, I turned my attention to it, trying to push it off of me.

“OW, Gi-hun you’re hurting me.” I angrily stated, he turned and motioned to Jung-bae to keep firing. In his distraction, I unclamped the gun from the strap he was keeping it on and turned it upwards to under his chin, resting my finger ever so lightly on the trigger. When he turned back I felt my soul turn as dark as coal watching his eyes dilate in reaction.

I held the gun firmly in my trembling hands.

"I'm... going... to Young-il," | panted out. He took his hands off the wall and steadily walked backwards. "(Y/N), put it down." His voice slightly wavered, his attitude now flipped. We both knew I wouldn't do it, I wouldn't shoot him. Slowly making my way back to my gun, I delicately picked up the heavy metal. I left Gi-hun's gun where l once stood and ran.

"(Y/N)?(Y/N)!!" He shouted after me. I was over this, I dashed around the corner before he could catch up to me.

Turning around I made no effort to hide or shield myself. My mind set on finding one person and it wouldn’t rest until it got that person. He was like a drug in that way. Changing my brain and chemicals to become dependent on them and then alone. He had been there for me the entire game, he watched over me and made me feel safe. How could I not be addicted?

I reached around corners like someone who had no fear of death, of consequence. I could have sworn I heard something behind me but the acoustics of this place would make you think you were insane. I raced up the stairs, whipping my neck at every corner, I turned at one and saw that mass of black hair standing out against the purple stairwell. Giving myself whiplash I turned to him and went to touch his shoulder when I saw Young- il raise his gun towards his teammates. Before I knew what had happened I saw the bodies drop to the ground. One fully dead and the other simply wounded. Freezing in place as though that stupid doll was in front of me once again, I tightly clenched myself inwards in fear.

I retracted my hand slowly watching as Young-il slightly shifted backwards fixing his stance. He turned the barell to the wounded man and without remorse went to shoot at him, finishing what he started. I flinched when he pressed the trigger waiting for the gunshot but heard only a click. I saw him hold steady as he clicked it a few more times before realizing he was out.

With an annoyed sigh Young-il took out his magazine and replaced it with the full one, taking aim once again only for the radio scratching to life pausing him in the ending of others.

“YOUNG-IL? YOUNG-IL COME IN. (Y/N) is heading in your direction with more ammo!! What’s going on up there?!” Gi-hun shouted through the receiver. I held my breath hoping he wouldn’t turn around. Picking up the radio, I watched as he walked calculated towards the dying man on the floor.

“We lost Gi-hun. It’s over…. I’m sorry.” He hushed out. I could feel Gi-hun’s disappointment from the radio as he yelled at Young-il for more information.

Holding the button of the transmitter down, he shot the man with the other. No holding back, he shot the man just as quickly as he thought up a lie for Gi-hun. He stood back up from his knees, resting the gun on its strap and switching the radio channel.

“Start wrapping this up.” He firmly executed. Right as he switched off the radio he heard the familiar sound and turned to look at me. I cocked my gun and held it tightly in my hands but loosely in my arms.

His deep sharp knife like eyes cut right through my resolve, unlike Gi-hun who backed away he slowly inched closer.

“Put it down.” He commanded moving slower than time itself.

“What are you doing Young-il?” My voice cracked out in betrayal. He took the hand not holding the radio and wrapped it around my own hand where mine was set on the trigger.

“(Y/N)… put it down.” He said softer now, “come on darling… give me the gun.” He spoke in the same voice he just used to Gi-hun. My fave dropped in sadness as my limbs went weak. He swiftly but softly ripped the gun away from me, taking out the magazine and throwing it to the side.

“Why are you here?” His once tantalizing voice now felt harsh like a parent scolding a child. He wrapped his hands around my arms effortlessly holding me up and close.

“Why did you-“ I cut myself off as I let out a small tear. I could feel my throat getting tight and my nose getting stuffed. “Who are you?” I muttered out as he raised a hand to cup my cheek. I shook my head in disbelief as he shushed me.

Pulling me into his chest I let out soft sobs, wrapping my arms around myself. He tilted my chin up with his hand, grasping it in a vice grip when I tried to push him off of me.

“Nobody you need to worry about lovely.” He whispered back, he softly kissed my forehead holding me tighter as I struggled against him. I started punching at his chest angry, confused, and scared.

He tilted his own head up and nodded behind me in my direction. The second I felt his hands loosen I shoved him away only to bump into another body. I saw a pair of pink arms wrap around me. One on my torso and the other around my mouth. I saw Young-il take something from another gaurds and open the black case he had been handed. I felt fear bubbling in my guts, mixed with a sick arousal of curiosity.

Out of the case he picked up a needle, the tip so small and so reflective all I could see was a little light on the end.

“Shh, sh sh sh sh sh, it’s okay… this won’t hurt a bit.” He hushed me, gently caressing my face and arms, whatever he could get his hands on. I struggled and bit the hand of the person holding me like a toddler being out in timeout. He let me go with a hiss but simply moved his hand to my forehead to keep me still. I kicked at shins and elbowed stomachs but considering I was much smaller and much weaker then them it was of no use. I screamed an ear piercing screech. Considering how echoey it was in here I saw a few of the people around me flinch in annoyance as the needle tip got closer and closer to my neck.

I felt the small prick right under my ear. My screaming stopped as I felt my body drop limply. My vision became blurry and I saw Young-il pulling away, and placing a kiss where he had just injected me. When he moved his lips were tinted dark red, and when he opened his mouth to speak I saw a small line of blood on his tongue. I couldn’t hear what he said next but he wasn’t speaking to me, it was to others behind me.

I pushed against my own head so hard to stay awake that I was giving myself a headache. After a quiet second or two the ringing in my ears stopped as my body gave way to whatever drug it was and went under.

————

“Now witness the consequences of your ‘heroic’ actions…” the front man taunted at the man he beat. With no remorse he shot Jung-bae and watched the pain and wollow that followed on Gi-Huns face. When he tried to attack him the gaurds held him down firmly as the front man turned to head back to the control room.

“DID YOU KILL MY SISTER?!” Gi-hun shouted angrily causing In-ho to stop walking. With a slight movement over his shoulder he further taunted his enemy.

“Let’s see how many more people die due to your foolishness…” he trailed off, leaving Gi-hun without a straight answer, forcing his own mind to torture him trying to fill in the blanks.

Finally having won, the front man entered the elevator and watched on a screen as Gi-hun was taken back to the room, forced to walk past his once small but ample military. In-ho could see the distraught and pain sewn into his features,

and it was delicious…

AN: WHEW I’m finally done with this chapter, stay tuned because there’s one more and while we wait for season three I’ll post little blurbs here and there to keep you all entertained. Thank you for waiting so patiently and I hope you didn’t wait TOO long.

LOVE YOU ALL LOTS

<3 FandomObbsessedB 

TAGLIST: @blacksnape123 @newtsniffles @missmollya @watasinekoru @justaproudslytherpuff @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @tinylawyerbluebird @connorsandroids @foulbreadpaenut @starlightluvsu @machipyun @melaninatedhorrorqueen









[brekwrites]

Moon’s deterioration as depicted in the thumbnails

So, I don’t claim to know what’s going on in the current SAMS arc bc I truly have no idea, but I have seen some people mention some of the glitch effects and how Moon has gradually acquired a purple glow and thought it was interesting. So I went back through the thumbnails and noticed some stuff that I’m gonna dump under the cut. Fair warning, this is long.

So, starting all the way back with the ep where Dark Sun gives Moon an ominous hint and then fucks off:

Dark Sun drops this info, which he already knew and could have revealed at any time, and keeps it purposely vague so there’s still some confusion and no immediate action taken. Then he gets in his purple portal and fucks off.

The delay in him giving the information and purposeful vagueness almost make it seem like he’s stalling for time so Ruin can complete his plan, but we know he’s not actually working with Ruin because they don’t interact until later, and even then he’s using Ruin against his will as a pawn more than anything else. If he’s not working with Ruin, he must still have something to gain from his plan working; either the death of the creators, the death of Solar, or both.

After this, Ruin’s true nature is revealed and yadda yadda:

These are both action packed thumbnails with big shocking reveals, and I want to use them to illustrate a point. Despite the fact that there’s lots of stuff happening visually, there’s a difference between these thumbnails and this one:

The thumbnail for the episode with Solar’s death has a big heart monitor/heartbeat symbol. Also, Solar is glowing a slight purple color as he fades away (and missing two fingers). I’m not entirely sure if either of those facts are significant, but I do think the heartbeat symbol is.

After Solar’s death, the next big plot points are:

Dark Sun planting the idea that Moon’s proposed way won’t bring Solar back, but there’s another way that will, and then telling Eclipse that method and jamming a chip in his head to 1) slow him down and keep him from bringing Solar back too quickly, and 2) keep Moon from being able to sacrifice him for the equivalent exchange method.

So, Dark Sun just planted the idea of bringing Solar back, while also ensuring it only happens when and how he wants it to. Considering he also took measures to make sure the events leading to Solar’s death occurred in the first place, this is interesting.

While this is happening:

Moon talks to his old self, which punches him right in the insecurities and kickstarts his obsession with keeping his family happy. It also gives him a connection to Old Moon that he didn’t have before, which becomes more of a thing later.

While Moon is doing this:

Molten steals Ruin, so when Moon wakes up he realizes he’s lost the resource he was using to research ways to bring Solar back. On top of that, he finally realizes what exactly bringing Solar back will entail—a sacrifice. And he’s just lost the most morally justifiable person he could’ve sacrificed. So he loses it.

In this episode, Moon breaks down bc he’s been pushing himself to bring Solar back. He misses him and just wants to see his family happy and whole again. He’s also upset about the fact that he’d have to kill someone to get Solar back because he DOESN’T want to do that.

When Eclipse wanted to kill Ruin after finding out he’d build him, Moon told him no and specifically said who are we to decide who lives and dies. This was right after Solar’s death, and he still didn’t want to kill him. Now, he has a logical reason to do so and is STILL incredibly conflicted about it. He’s crying and breaking down like he knows he’s already lost Solar for good because he lost Ruin, who is one of his only options for bringing him back. (Also, it's possible that he knows deep down that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to sacrifice him even if he was there, or that his family wouldn't want it.) After this breakdown...

Moon has the hallucination/waking dream where he sees what could have happened if Solar survived, which is the beginning of the end for him. After this, he struggles to figure out what's real and takes a turn for the worse. And here, in the first (lore) episode Solar has been in since his death, we see the little heartbeat symbol again.

Meanwhile, Dark Sun rescues Ruin, sticks a chip in his head, and sends him back knowing that Moon won't be able to use him to bring back Solar. (Also, Ruin is glowing and flaking like Solar was, but his glow is teal. Teal seems to represent star power, possibly, because it's often there when Lunar uses it and it's present in the thumbnail of the later episode where Moon uses it. Not sure if this is relevant tho or if it was just a fun design choice here.)

Moon is starting to lose it, decides he'll do what he has to do to keep his family happy regardless of whether they actually want it and even if it makes them hate him. This is also the first time we start to see the glitchy imagery used in the background.

Importantly, this is when his actions start to contrast his earlier feelings. He decides to bring Solar back by any means possible and to sacrifice Ruin, which he specifically did not want to do before.

After he makes this decision and realizes Ruin is back, he goes to recapture him, initially with the intent to use him as a sacrifice. When he finds out he can't, he's livid. This is the first time we've seen him act on the violent impulses he's had, and it's also the first time we see the eye on the darker half of his face hidden.

After that, Moon starts to gradually get... purpler. Here, he's surrounded by it, but not really purple himself, and both eyes are normal as he keeps up the facade around his family.

But Eclipse gets a glimpse of what's actually happening when he goes to get evidence for Earth. Moon threatens him, and he reveals the Dark Sun did something to him, too, so he also can't be used as a sacrifice. This is when Moon sets his sights on Bloodmoon. Even more glitch imagery and purple shading that's starting to creep across his body, little red corruption lines on his face, and once again his left eye is obscured.

Once Sun realizes just how bad things have gotten, he starts to plan against Moon. Here, Moon is fully shaded purple and both eyes are obscured. (Maybe possibly because this is technically Sun's mental image of him, and Sun isn't entirely sure what he's dealing with yet and doesn't know what Moon is thinking?).

Then, in the episode where Moon sees Old Moon, he's finally glowing. As Old Moon grabs him, the eye on the lighter side of his face glitches. Also, we see the return of the little heartbeat symbols because this is the first episode where Moon sees the hallucination of Solar, even though he's not in the thumbnail. This picture is also good for contrasting Moon's typical color pallet with his purple-hued one.

Moon resists the advice of his conscience and goes to harass Eclipse. He breaks his fingers (noticeably the same ones Solar was missing), which is arguably the cruelest thing he's done yet (considering he choked Ruin, who murdered his friend, but he ripped off Eclipse's fingers when this version hasn't done anyone any bodily harm and was helping Earth). He's still glowing purple, and his shadow shows TWO red eyelights.

Once Sun captures him, their conversation is at least somewhat civil, even if it's not great. Moon is still glowing here, and we see one red eyelight on the dark side of his face, but his light eye is normal. This is also another episode where his conscience argues against him in the form of Solar, and he struggles to rationalize what he's doing.

After escaping and fully committing to being the villain, he's glowing an even darker purple and both eyes are glowing red.

When he tries to kill Bloodmoon, he's still glowing purple, and his eyes are still glowing red. This is also where he realizes he doesn't care if he hurts Earth (hence no normal eye on his lighter side). He admits that he was bluffing a bit before when he said it, but not anymore.

Finally, Dark Sun convinces Moon to go with him. He's still glowing purple here and one eye is glowing red, but the eye on the light side of his face is normal. This makes sense, because we see him fighting with himself over what he did in the beginning of this ep. He allows Dark Sun to remove the chip and even suggests for a moment that they could be brothers, which I feel speaks to how much he does want his family deep down, even if he says he doesn't.

While we can't say for certain that the removed chip was Old Moon, I think it's a reasonable theory considering they've started talking about the chip in relation to Old Moon and how Monty said he'd need to make a replacement chip, which Dark Sun also mentions. Once the chip is gone, Moon feels free of his inhibitions, which would make sense if Old Moon was trying to stop him and fits the eye imagery. Finally, I think it's interesting how Dark Sun is glowing yellow in this thumbnail and how he's been depicted with red irises on white sclera, while the corrupted half of Moon's face is depicted as red irises on presumably black sclera. Parallels, and all that.

So, yeah, I think it's a good bet that whatever is going on with Moon was Dark Sun's goal all along, although idk for what purpose. Also, I'm not sure if he did anything to Moon, either by giving him a virus/program or by triggering some of his hallucinations, or if it was the situation itself (which he engineered, but not completely) that caused Moon to snap without any direct interference. Either way, I think that Moon is being taken over by 'the Purple,' and that whatever it is, it's beneficial to Dark Sun's plans.

Finally, one last thing I noticed is that the Purple is not just Moon indulging in his more destructive tendencies alone, because he looks perfectly normal during the rage room episode.

So I do think that this is likely something more than just Moon himself falling off the deep end. That definitely doesn't excuse his actions, but it does suggest that there might be something more going on and he might not be fully in control of himself.

[kwanisms]

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 06 🎄

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➮ choir teacher!Seungkwan × fem!Reader wc: 10.9k summary: While organizing a children's choir show, Seungkwan runs into an old fling who offers to help him corral the kids and help run the show. genres/themes/au: angst (only a little), fluff (a lot), smut (also a lot); holiday themes; non idol au, choir teacher au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: Seungkwan’s was initially the longest piece before I wrote Wonwoo’s whopping 12k novel in the OG series. I’ve grown as a writer since then so I wanted to explore more with writing for Seungkwan because while he’s my ult bias and the absolute love of my life, I actually don’t write a lot for him so when I do, I like to go a little above and beyond for my fellow Kwannie enthusiasts. So here’s the conclusion to our Lord and Savior, Boo Seungkwan’s part. Thank you so much for reading and if you enjoyed this part, please consider reblogging as it really helps me reach a larger audience. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection pls. Don’t be like these two idiots lol), dubcon (they’re both pretty drunk), oral (f receiving, m receiving and it’s pretty messy), dirty talk (and lots of it cause whew), Seungkwan has a stocking & lingerie kink, begging (Seungkwan because I believe he’s pretty when he’s all flustered, red in the face, and begging), orgasm denial (m receiving), some thigh fucking (cause why not!), fingering (f receiving), power bottom!Seungkwan, slight voice kink on the MC’s part, and I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed any!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

“Alright, everyone, places please!” Seungkwan called, clapping his hands and looking over the children.

“That’s my spot!”

“Stop shoving!”

“Mr. Seungkwan, Annie took my spot!”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Seungkwan sighed as the kids around him bickered as they lined up. This was proving to be much for him to handle. Why didn’t he agree to have an assistant? He shook his head before calling over the children’s heads again.

“Please, everyone. We need to get back to practice!” he said. “Annie, your spot is here and Jordan, there you are. Stephen, please stop pushing, we don’t push. Carrie, give Dalton back his hat.” Wrangling twenty-one children was a lot of work but it was his job as a choir teacher at an elementary school.

Upon graduating from university, Seungkwan landed this job and was surprised to find he loved it. He loved singing and teaching. Sure, the kids were hard to control sometimes but they were kids after all. He knows he was probably a handful for his mother at that age.

Once the kids were in line, Seungkwan made sure they were all accounted for before beginning practice. He’d chosen to arrange a holiday choir for the school’s Holiday Festival and had given his students the option of joining, telling them they didn’t have to if they didn’t want to. The other music teacher, Molly, had offered to help him and Seungkwan politely turned her down, thinking he could manage.

To be fair, he could manage but only just. He was barely floating at this point and the kids, as much as he loved them, were wearing him and his patience thin. If this had been his friends, he would have already been yelling at them, cursing between every word but these were kids. 

He unfortunately had to be the adult.

“Let’s take it from the top,” he instructed, holding his hands up to direct. “One, two, three…”

Practice had gone about as well as he could expect. The kids were able to get through two of the planned songs before one of the boys, Evan, had a full blown meltdown over the girl next to him yawning. Thankfully the parents arrived to pick up their kids right after and Seungkwan was free to go home.

He stopped by the store on his way, remembering the grocery list on his phone. The store seemed to be a little busier than usual, the holidays being the time of the year where everyone was cooking and baking for family and entertaining friends. Seungkwan managed to snag a parking space close to the doors as a light mist started to fall over the city. He pulled his hat on and got out of his car, heading for the store quickly.

Once inside, he grabbed a cart, pulling out his phone to go over his list and start shopping. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but he really did relish the time he got alone in the store. It was the only place he could feel truly alone. At work, he was surrounded by children and at home, he shared an apartment with his best friends. 

Seungkwan made a turn into an aisle, looking for pasta sauce when his cart ran into another and he stopped, apologizing profusely. His eyes looked up and widened in surprise as they landed on the person pushing the cart.

“Well, well, well, Boo Seungkwan,” you said with an amused smile. “Long time no see.”

Seungkwan offered a sheepish smile. What were the odds? He’d spilled his guts about the time you and he were camp counselors and hooked up at his last camping trip with his friends and here you were months later. It had been years since he’d seen you and he was captivated by the way you didn’t seem to have changed much but also at the same time, you changed a lot.

“Wow, Y/N,” he replied. “How have you been?” He watched as you shrugged. “Can’t complain,” you replied. “Just been working. I got back from an overseas assignment,” you added. Seungkwan looked at you with surprise. “Whoa, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah! It was really cool. But what about you? What have you been up to?” you asked.

Seungkwan felt his cheeks grow warm. “Uhm,” he hesitated. “I heard you got a job as a vocal teacher, is that right?” you asked. Seungkwan nodded wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, I did,” he answered. “Elementary kids. They have music class divided. One vocal teacher and one music teacher.”

You smiled widely. “That’s great! I know how much you love working with kids.”

Seungkwan nodded. “Yeah, they’re really testing my patience though,” he added in an undertone making you laugh, throwing your head back. God how he had missed your laugh. “Boo Seungkwan, getting his patience tested? Unheard of,” you joked, making him join in your laughter.

“Yeah,” he started, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s just we’re putting on this Holiday Festival and I’m in charge of the choir. These kids signed up for it, it’s not like this is for a grade,” he explained. “But they’re just so restless.”

You nodded as you listened to his worries.

“I’ve been trying to wrangle these kids but it’s really wearing me down,” he explained and you frowned slightly. “Do you need some help?” you asked, making him look up at you. “What?” he asked softly. You offered a warm smile. “I could help, if you’d like?”

Seungkwan couldn’t describe the relief he felt when you offered. Yet he knew he couldn’t accept your help so easily. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t ask that of you,” he added. You shook your head with a light laugh. “You aren’t asking, Seungkwan,” you replied. “I’m offering.”

Seungkwan made a show of thinking about it before he gave in. “Yes, okay. I could really use some help,” he said quickly, making you giggle. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you said with a smile as you pulled your phone out. “Is your number the same?”

“Uhh, no,” Seungkwan said, patting his pockets and managing to locate his phone. Once you had swapped new contact information, Seungkwan slipped the device back in his pocket. “I should probably finish this,” he said, gesturing to the shopping cart in front of him. You nodded, placing your hands on your own handlebar. “Same,” you replied. “My mom will kill me if I don’t get back with ample time for her to make dinner.” Seungkwan smiled as you looked up at him.

“Just text me the time and location of the next practice and I’ll be there.”

You let Seungkwan go first, watching as he disappeared around the corner before you headed on to finish your own shopping.

Seungkwan felt like he was speedrunning the rest of his shopping to get to the check out, hoping you might finish around the same time but unfortunately he didn’t see you again in the shop. Outside, he opened the trunk of his car, placing his groceries inside before shutting it and returning the cart.

On the drive home, Seungkwan reminisced about your time together at camp and your long standing rivalry. It wasn’t lost on him how things had changed over the years. In some of his free time, he found himself wondering what you were up to. How had life been treating you? What had changed?

After seeing you again, he was surprised to see not much had changed at all. Sure, you were both a little older, a little wiser, but you looked almost exactly the same. You had a different aura about you, though Seungkwan couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that was giving you said aura.

Upon arriving home, Seungkwan put the groceries away, taking note that his roommate was not home before he decided to start making dinner. While he cooked, his thoughts drifted to you before remembering he needed to text you where to meet him and what time.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up your contact, hesitating for a moment as he looked at your picture. It was one he’d taken of you at camp all those years ago. The last day he saw you before you both graduated from university and started working, no longer free to work summer camps.

[flashback - 3 years ago]

“Wow,” you exclaimed, hand raised over your eyes as you shielded the sun and looked out over the ocean. “It’s so blue!” Seungkwan smiled as he looked at you. “Come on,” he said, tugging your hand. “Hang on,” you said, pulling from his grip and walking over the sand where the water was washing up onto the shore. “I’ve never been to the ocean,” you exclaimed with a laugh.

Seungkwan walked over slowly, watching you stand and wait for the water to return. As it washed over your barefeet, you squealed in excitement, looking up at him with a bright smile.

It was the last few days of the summer vacation before your final year of university. Soon you would be heading back home for school and after graduation, Seungkwan wasn’t sure when he’d see you again, if ever. He’d invited you to spend a couple weeks in Jeju with him, visiting his family before he, too, returned to school.

“We can come back,” he said, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, giving you a slight tug. “There’s something I want to show you,” he added and led you away from the shoreline and back towards the path he’d been trying to take you on. He stopped, letting you brush the sand off your feet and put your sandals on before the two of you continued, walking along the path.

The hike wasn’t a long one and it wasn’t too extensive but it boasted arguably the best views on the island and even better was that only a handful of people knew about it. Seungkwan and his friends had stumbled upon the secluded area in middle school one summer and turned it into a haven of sorts.

As you climbed higher and higher into the mountains, you started to whine that you wanted to go back to the beach, making Seungkwan chuckle as he found the hidden path. “I promise this is worth it,” he said softly, pulling back some of the vegetation to reveal the hidden footpath that was much less traveled than the paved one you’d been walking on.

You eyed him suspiciously before stepping onto the path, Seungkwan right behind you. The path between the trees was narrow but Seungkwan kept close to you from behind, making sure you didn’t trip or stumble as you walked.

Soon the path opened up into a small clearing, overlooking the beach and the ocean. You let out a gasp as you stopped, turning to look back at Seungkwan who only smiled and gestured for you to continue.

It had been some time since Seungkwan had been here. The open area was covered overhead by the canopy of leaves and a wall of rocks lined the edge of the cliff. He and his friends had built it to feel a little safer in their youth. It also helped obscure the clear from the beach and made the area look and feel much more private.

“This is incredible, Kwan,” you said softly as you walked closer to the cliff’s edge. “Look at the ocean,” you whispered as he walked up to stand beside you. “It just stretches for miles.” Seungkwan said nothing, letting you soak in the view at your own pace. “It’s gorgeous,” you added, turning to smile at him before quickly looking back at the water as he looked at you.

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, making you groan and playfully hit his shoulder. Your light punches didn’t seem to phase Seungkwan as he reached up, turning your face towards him as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. After a moment, he pulled back, a smile on his lips before he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and let go of your chin.

Seungkwan sat on a fallen log, one he and his friends had dragged up to the cliff and used as a makeshift bench. You joined him, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder as you both stared out over the water. Neither one of you spoke for several minutes that seemed to take hours to pass by.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said softly. “Gonna miss the beach, and the food,” you added. Seungkwan smiled, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “We can always come back,” he said softly as you raised your head to look at him. “Come back?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a nod. “Next summer,” he continued. Your look of confusion was replaced with one of dejection. “I don’t know if that will be possible,” you said softly, turning to look away from him quickly. Seungkwan took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Why not?” he asked, searching your eyes for the answers but finding only despair. “We’re graduating,” you replied. “Once college is over, real life begins.” Seungkwan chuckled. “Well, of course,” he said, letting go of your chin. “But what does that have to do with --?”

“Who knows if we’ll even see each other again.”

The words you blurted out held a lot of weight and Seungkwan was aware of the fact that what you had shared over the last four summers couldn’t last forever but it still hit him in the gut like a strong punch. Despite knowing things might not ever progress to anything more than a regular summer fling, he still had hope. He had to. How could he not when he was desperately head over heels for you?

“Y/N,” he started, taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I know our paths only cross once a year and have for the last four years,” he continued. “But the thing about graduating college, becoming a full fledged adult, and joining the real world is that we get to decide where we go.”

You looked up from your intertwined hands at him as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“And who we go with.”

[end flashback - the present]

He shook his head, pushing the memory down. Things hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped. He’d been so optimistic about the future you could have had but when graduation came around, he didn’t hear from you and he feared the worst. He’d tried looking you up on social media but never found a profile.

He eventually came to accept this and tried to move on but in the end, he was just too lovesick and so he pushed the memories and feelings down, repressing them rather than confronting them and moving on like a sane person would do.

But you were back. You were back and going to be working with him to get this choir show presentation ready. Seungkwan knew he’d be a fool if he let this opportunity slip him by so he needed a game plan.

The next day of practice for the children’s choir at the youth center came much faster than Seungkwan was prepared for and he was pleasantly surprised to see you waiting at the door for him, a coffee in either hand. You’d chosen to wear a turtleneck black dress that stopped just above the knee, sheer tights, knee high black boots and a cream colored long coat.

You looked like a vision as Seungkwan approached, giving him a warm smile. “Iced americano with extra liquid sugar?” you asked as you held out one of the cups of coffee. Seungkwan took it from you with a muttered thanks, his cheeks starting to grow warm.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” he added as he pulled the door open for you, allowing you inside first. You smiled, laughing softly as you walked together. “Of course I remembered,” you replied. “Listening to you place your order was always one of my favorite things when we were in Jeju.”

Seungkwan froze in his steps, causing you to turn. “Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised. You laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. I like listening to the way you said it in Korean. To be honest, I just like listening to you speak in Korean,” you added as he started to walk again, matching his pace.

Silence washed over the two of you as Seungkwan processed this information. Perhaps his plan to confess his feelings to you wasn’t such a bad idea after all but he needed more to go off of before he could just blurt out he was still in love with you.

“What else do you remember from Jeju?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible. You gave him a quick side glance. “I remember the beach,” you said softly as the two of you reached the room Seungkwan had been assigned for the practices.

He unlocked the door and opened it for you, letting you in first before following and turning on the light. “Just the beach?” he asked as he propped the door open and walked over to the desk, setting down his coffee and bag before shrugging off his coat.

He placed it on the back of the chair and turned to find you’d also stripped your coat off, allowing him to see you in your dress fully. It was a form-fitted cable knit sweater dress with long sleeves and turtleneck. The ends of the sleeves had black fuzzy cuffs. You turned to look at him.

“Not just the beach,” you replied, giving him  a very pointed look and Seungkwan couldn’t help but smile as a memory resurfaced from your time together in Jeju. He’d taken you all over the island, showing you his hometown, taking you to local spots as well as tourist ones. You’d tried local specialties, seen multiple sights but for him the best part of the trip was when you got back to the cabin you were staying in.

Whether it was making dinner together, watching a movie, or in the sheets, he had loved every minute spent with you in that cabin. It was almost like he imagined being married would be. The domesticity of it all. He loved making dinner with you in the kitchen as you joked around and then doing the dishes and cleaning up. He loved curling up on the sofa to watch a movie before retiring to bed.

Not to mention being able to have a taste of you almost every night was more than worth it.

“Ah,” he said, fighting the urge to smirk. So he wasn’t the only one who remembered the sex.

You turned away from him, pulling your phone out of your purse and checking that the sound was turned off before you walked over to the desk where Seungkwan stood. “I remember a lot about that summer,” you said, leaning against the desk and looking up at him. “Like what?” he asked.

He was pushing his luck and he knew it but he still wanted to hear you say it.

“The cliff,” you said, catching him off guard. “And the cabin,” you added, your lips pulling into a smirk.

Seungkwan felt heat rise to his face at the same time it started to settle in the pit of his stomach.

Before he could answer, he heard the sound of laughter in the lobby. ‘The kids,’ he thought as he walked over to the door and peered out. He turned back to you. “Alright, they’re here,” he said, looking back at you. “I’d like to introduce you to the parents, so they know you’re here.”

You nodded and walked over to where he stood. You watched him get into his element, greeting the kids and their parents as they wandered over to the door. True to his word, Seungkwan introduced you to all the parents who were more pleased than upset to see you, a stranger, would be helping Seungkwan.

Once all the kids had been dropped off and the parents informed of your presence, you followed Seungkwan back into the room to begin wrangling the kids.

“I need everyone’s attention!” Seungkwan called over the sounds of laughter and giggling.

To your shock, the kids immediately fell silent, turning their attention to their teacher. “We have a guest today,” Seungkwan continued and you saw several pairs of eyes fall on you. “This is my friend, Miss Y/N,” he announced. “She’s going to be helping us during practices. Everyone say ‘hello Miss Y/N!’”

You were suddenly greeted by a cacophony of children saying hello in unison. You smiled warmly around at them before repeating the same sentiment. “Hello everyone,” you said in a cheerful tone. “It’s nice to meet you all!”

Seungkwan launched immediately into practice, having you help him get the children into their places and assisting him in any way you could. It wasn’t particularly hard work and whenever the kids weren’t listening to Seungkwan speak, you were able to walk around the room and gently return their attention up front.

Once practice was over and the parents came to pick their kids up, you were sure you and Seungkwan could manage this. What was the worst that could happen?

The first couple days flew by, you had settled into a routine, bringing Seungkwan a coffee before each Saturday morning practice. You started bringing him breakfast just to make sure he’d eat something in the morning. Setting up the room and getting ready for the kids to arrive while you chatted and caught up with each others’ weeks.

Seungkwan had become extremely grateful for your help and presence. He felt that the children behaved much better with you around. He was grateful for the coffee and breakfast sandwiches you brought him, claiming they were store bought but he knew damn well you were getting up extra early to make him breakfast and stopping to grab coffee.

You also made sure he got lunch, even accompanying him after practice and cleaning up the room. He was looking forward to his Saturday mornings as it meant he got to spend them with you.

The last practice fell on a Friday before the Saturday show was one long practice and dress rehearsal rolled into one. The kids were now on winter break and being exceptionally restless that day and despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t get the kids to pay attention and behave. It was the one morning you hadn’t been able to join him immediately as you had a prior work engagement.

He was really starting to worry that they’d never get through practice when the door opened and you peered in. The kids looked up as you entered and excitedly greeted you as you shut the door behind you. In your arms was a green tub full of white paper sacks.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you walked over to the desk and set the tub down before shedding your jacket. The weather had warmed up a little, the remnants of the snow from before melting but another snow storm was due that night. “Hi Miss Y/N!” the kids chimed excitedly, waving.

You waved back as you set your jacket down. Today, you’d chosen to wear another dress. This one was more festive. It was a Christmas green fitted bodice with a circle skirt that fell to the middle of your thighs, and long fitted sleeves. The material looked like some type of velvet and Seungkwan briefly wondered what it would be like to run his hand over the material. He shook the thoughts from his head quickly. 

You’d matched the dress with pantyhose, and white low heels. Your makeup was also very festive. A soft eyeshadow look with a bold dark green lip. It was striking and Seungkwan couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you walked over, carrying the tub.

“What’s that?” he asked, peering into the tub. Each bag had a little winter and holiday motif on it. Snowflakes, reindeer, santa, candy canes, and more adorned the bags. “I thought we could take a lunch break,” you said softly. “I checked with the parents and they said they would be extremely grateful for this. I also got dietary restrictions from them for their kids,” you explained under your breath.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as you started to address the kids.

“How about we take a little break?” you asked, smiling around at them. “I asked your parents if I could bring lunch for you all and they said yes and they also told me what you couldn’t eat, so I went ahead and prepared some lunches!” you said excitedly, showing the contents of the tub to the kids who whispered excitedly.

“Let me help,” Seungkwan said softly, taking the tub from you. “You pass them out, I’ll carry this.”

You worked as a team, calling out names and passing the lunches to the kids. Once everyone had theirs, you told them to dig in before walking over to the desk and showing Seungkwan the lunch you’d grabbed for the two of you.

The kids sat on the floor in circles with their friends, talking animatedly while they ate their lunches. You pulled a chair up to the desk as Seungkwan opened the bag your food had come in. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured so only you could hear. “Although I really appreciate it.”

You smiled as you unwrapped your sandwich. “I don’t mind,” you said softly. “And besides, it lets me use up the groceries I buy in bulk,” you added. “So,” you said as Seungkwan opened a bottle of cola, setting it in front of you before opening one for himself. “Tomorrow’s the big day,” you noted and he nodded, heaving a big sigh. “They’ve been so restless and rowdy all day,” he murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the children.

“I’ve been struggling to get through this practice.”

You smiled, taking a sip of your soda before swallowing. “Well, I’m here now,” you offered. “I’m sure together we can get them to behave long enough to get through practice.” Seungkwan didn’t miss the wink you threw his way. He also didn’t miss the way it made his heart skip a beat.

After lunch, the kids were allowed to rest and you pulled out homemade bingo boards and passed them around to the kids, also passing out bags with smashed marbles as you explained the rules. It was going to be musical bingo. It was going to test their memory of the songs they were going to sing for the show as well as their parts. Seungkwan felt like he could kiss you.

He decided to get some paperwork done while you kept the kids entertained.

It took a couple rounds before kids started getting bingos and it wasn’t until the last child called out a bingo that you ended the game and passed out rewards in the form of snacks and small toys you most likely grabbed from the dollar store.

“Now that we’ve had lunch and we’ve refreshed our memories,” you said as you finished packing up the boards and bags of markers. “Let’s continue this practice cause I know you’ve all got this and you’re going to totally rock this show!”

By the end of practice, Seungkwan wanted to ask you to marry him. You’d managed to turn the children from gremlins into calm little lambs and not only did they behave during practice but they were the best they’d ever been. As the kids were putting on their coats and thanking you for today, Seungkwan had one of his students come up and tug on his sleeve. It was one of the more quiet students.

“What is it, Stephanie?” he asked, squatting down to her level. “You have a really nice girlfriend, Mr. Seungkwan,” she said softly before sauntering off to join her friends. Seungkwan glanced up to where he saw you helping one of the kids put their coat on correctly.

His cheeks burned from the embarrassment and he suddenly wondered who else thought you were his girlfriend. He decided not to dwell on it as the parents started arriving. He’d bring it up to you later.

One by one, the kids were picked up until it was just you and Seungkwan in the room. He grabbed the empty tub and waited for you to put on your jacket and grab your purse before turning the light off and following you out the door, closing and locking it.

The two of you walked to the door and stopped. “Thank you for today,” he said softly. “It was a huge help.” You smiled at him as you wrapped a scarf around your neck. The sun was already starting to set and the temperature had dropped considerably as the weather predicted for the snow coming later.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

You thanked Seungkwan as he opened the door for you and walked into the parking lot. Your car wasn’t far into the parking lot and soon you had reached it, unlocking the doors. “Just put that in the backseat,” you said softly, pointing at the tub and opening the door for Seungkwan to place on the seat before shutting it again.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” you asked and Seungkwan shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I think you’re right. They’ve got this.” You smiled as you leaned against your car. Seungkwan contemplated telling you what Stephanie had said. ‘Just tell her, you idiot!’

“You know,” he started, a soft laugh escaping him. “I think my students are really fond of you.”

Another smile spread across your lips. “Not as fond as they are of you,” you replied and he shook his head. “They don’t like me that much.” You shook your head this time. “No, really. They adore you, Seungkwan. It’s really cute actually.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a beat. ‘It’s now or never.’

“Hey, after all of this is said and done,” Seungkwan started, drawing your attention. “Would you maybe want to--”

He was interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone and you sighed, pulling the device out, glancing at the screen before giving him an apologetic look and answering it. “Yes, mom?” you asked and Seungkwan forced a smile. ‘Cockblocked by the mom. Great.’ 

You waited, listening to what your mother had to say, nodding along before finally answering. “Yeah, sure. I can swing by the store on my way home.” You looked at Seungkwan and playfully rolled your eyes. “Yeah, we’re leaving just now. So I’ll be home soon… okay. Yep. Love you, too.”

You said bye, hanging up and slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up at Seungkwan. “Sorry about that,” you said breathlessly. “You were saying?”

Seungkwan looked up, meeting your gaze. ‘Come on, she’s waiting!’ 

But it was no use. His momentary confidence was gone.

“It’s nothing,” he replied with a smile. “Just, get home safe, okay?” he asked, starting to turn away but stopped when you gently grabbed his arm, making him turn back to face you. “Don’t do that,” you said softly. “I know you want to say something. Don’t psyche yourself into not saying it. Just ask me.”

Seungkwan cleared his throat, cheeks burning from having been caught. You knew him far too well for his own good. He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I thought that maybe when everything is said and done, we could get dinner?” A smile spread across your face and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’d love that,” you replied. “Just tell me when and where.”

Seungkwan nodded, stepping back as you opened your door and got in, turning on the car and rolling your window down. “Text me when you get back to your mom’s safe, okay?” he said, leaning down to look into your window. You nodded up at him. “You too. Let me know when you get home.”

Seungkwan promised he would before saying he would see you tomorrow and watching you drive off as the first few flurries of snow fell. He glanced up at the sky and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. It wasn’t exactly according to plan, but it was better than nothing.

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

The next morning, the day of the choir show, Seungkwan woke up to a blanket of snow covering the ground but thankfully the road crews were out clearing the roads and treating them for ice. Seungkwan went about his day as usual, nerves setting in. 

He wasn’t nervous for the show, but because of you. The kiss last night, even if it was on the cheek, felt extremely intimate for some reason. He chalked it up to him being overly optimistic but he was going to ride that wave for as long as he could.

As the day wore on, Seungkwan got ready for the show. The attire was festive so he chose a red sweater and a pair of black slacks and black shoes, grabbing the green and red striped elf hat and his coat before leaving the apartment. He was thankful for his building’s parking garage as he walked into the covered space, locating his car and getting in.

The concert was to be performed inside the gymnasium at the community center while the rest of the festival took place in the halls and outside. He arrived early, finding a cleared parking lot and pulled into a space before getting out and moving to the trunk of his, pulling out the box of reindeer antlers for the kids.

He walked up to the doors, thanking the man who held it open for him as he exited.

Once inside, Seungkwan made his way to the gym, greeting the staff as he walked up to check in.

He looked at the list and saw you had already arrived, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

‘What is wrong with you? Calm down!’

Seungkwan entered the gymnasium and looked around, astonished at the work put into decorating the space. His eyes landed on you over by the small stage that had been erected, talking to one of the staff members. He walked over, eyes scanning your figure.

You’d really dressed up for the occasion. The dress you wore was another green one but under this one, you wore a white petticoat, fluffing up the skirt. The bodice was fitted but instead of long sleeves, it had short off-the-shoulder cap sleeves. You had on a green Santa hat with white fur trim and the trim of your dress matched the hat. You paired the dress with some pantyhose and a black pair of shoes, ones that Seungkwan was impressed to see had red bottoms.

He approached you, setting the box of antlers on the top of the piano, drawing both yours and the staff members’ attention. Your face lit up upon seeing him, giving him a quick once over. Your makeup was similar to yesterday only your eyes had more shimmer and your lips were a deep red.

Seungkwan sighed dramatically before gesturing at the box. “These feel like they weigh a ton!” he whined and you chuckled lightly at him, turning back to the staff member before she departed, leaving you and Seungkwan alone in your little corner.

“You look incredible,” he said softly. “Th-thanks,” you stuttered, turning away to busy yourself with the box of antlers. “Not gonna lie, I kinda of want to wear these,” you joked. Seungkwan smiled, pointing to your hat. “But your hat matches so well,” he commented. You shrugged. “Maybe I want something different,” you replied cheekily. Seungkwan shook his head, turning away.

When his back was turned, you were quick to grab his hat off his head. Seungkwan spun around, eyes wide and you forced your hat into his hands. “You should have the Santa hat,” you said, putting his hat on your head. “I’m your assistant. I should have the elf ears.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, smiling all the same as he turned back around. “You’re silly,” he murmured as he picked the box up and moved it over to the side of the stage near the steps and out of the way as you sat on the piano bench.

Seungkwan felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, checking the screen to see Molly was calling him before answering it. “Hey, Molly,” he said softly, glancing at you before paying attention to his co-worker.

“Seungkwan, I’m so sorry!” Molly said, her voice sounding hysterical. “Whoa, whoa, are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, excusing himself and walking a short distance away from where you sat, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

You turned your head, wondering who Molly was and how Seungkwan knew her. ‘Probably his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Or possibly a wife,’ a voice in the back of your brain said. You mentally shook that idea away. ‘He’s not married,’ you told yourself. ‘He would have mentioned that.’

You glanced Seungkwan’s way and saw him nervously biting at his thumbnail. The look on his face was one of distress. ‘That can’t be good…’

A few moments later, after nodding and murmuring a few words you couldn’t hear, Seungkwan hung up, placing his phone back in his pocket and walked over, taking a seat beside you and hanging his head, elbows resting on his thighs.

“That doesn’t sound good,” you said as he let out a deep sigh. “Molly can’t make it,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Oh,” you replied, not sure how to respond. You had no idea who Molly was. “Is that your girlfriend?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan’s head snapped up and he gave you a bewildered look. “What? No,” he replied, sounding confused. “Molly is the music teacher at the school I work at. She teaches music and I teach vocals,” he explained. “She was supposed to be our accompaniment.”

You mentally scolded yourself before perking up. “Wait,” you said quickly, making Seungkwan look up. “Piano, right?” you asked, turning to him. Seungkwan nodded slowly as a smile spread across your face. 

“How much time do we have before the concert?”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes before checking his watch. “An hour,” he replied, looking back up at you as you stood up and turned to face the piano, lifting the key cover and opening the music book. “Let me run through these songs real quick and I can do it,” you told him.

Seungkwan has lost track of how many times he wanted to kiss you for literally saving the day. “No fucking way,” he laughed in disbelief as you started warming up, flexing your fingers. “It’s been a few years since I’ve played,” you explained, fingers gliding over the keys as you read the sheet music before pausing to look at him.

“But I think I got this.”

Not only did you manage to run through the entire set a couple times with Seungkwan but you followed the kids perfectly, surprising Seungkwan and yourself. When the show came to a close, Seungkwan hurried over to you, a man you’d never seen following him.

“Y/N,” he said as you stood up, brushing off your dress. “This is Jihoon,” he explained, introducing the man who smiled politely at you, a woman standing off to the side on her phone behind him. “JIhoon, this is Y/N,” he said, introducing you excitedly.

You didn’t miss the way Jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, glancing at Seungkwan before looking quickly back at you. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jihoon said, giving you a polite nod. “Sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon said, turning to his friend. “But I’ve got plans.” You noticed how he glanced at the woman who smiled at you and Seungkwan. “We’ll catch up soon,” Jihoon added before waving and walking over to the woman and the pair headed for the gymnasium exit.

Seungkwan stared after them before turning to you. “Sorry about that,” he said softly, taking your green hat off his head. “Jihoon is one of my friends I told you about.” You smiled as he handed your hat back and took his hat off your head, passing it back to him.

“The friends you go camping with, right?” you asked, glancing at the green Santa hat in your hands. “Yeah,” Seungkwan said softly. Silence fell over the two of you briefly before you looked up at Seungkwan. “You want to check out the rest of the festival?” A grin spread over his face before he nodded. “Sure,” he said.

“Why not? You saved the show after all. I’d do anything you asked me to, right now.”

As the festival went on, you dragged Seungkwan outside, donning your coats and walking around the ice sculpture display as well as the holiday lights, taking pictures. Despite the freezing temperatures, Seungkwan still found himself having a good time. Up until you dragged him into a photobooth.

“Nothing good happens in photobooths,” his roommate, Vernon, once told him. As you squeezed into the tight space, you scrolled through the frame options until you settled on one and pushed the button. The first set of pictures turned out okay, some of them sort of awkward so Seungkwan was determined to get ones you could proudly display.

The first picture was just a nice one of the two of you smiling. Then you separate your pointer and index fingers into V’s before putting them upside down to your head, like cat ears which Seungkwan followed. You turned to look at him, laughter on your tongue and he just acted.

His hands went to the sides of your neck, pulling you into a kiss as the flash continued, the pictures all but forgotten as soon as your lips met. It was like time stood still, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt Seungkwan’s tongue swipe over your bottom lip and you parted your lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, a muffled groan coming from his chest as he pressed further into you.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a few moments, he pulled back, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes, his cheeks tinged red. His lips were slightly stained from your lipstick but he couldn’t care less and neither could you.

You panted, trying to catch your breath as you stared back before Seungkwan finally spoke, breaking the silence, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“God, I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at him. “What?” you whispered. 

The moment the words left his mouth, Seungkwan knew he was screwed. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. There was no doubt in his mind that he was hopelessly and shamelessly still in love with you.

He pulled back, taking a deep breath and opening his eyes to meet your confused gaze.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I have ever since Jeju. Actually, since before Jeju,” he explained. “I’ve thought about no one else but you since then. When it’s just me and my thoughts alone, you occupy them. When I see something that reminds me of you, you’re just there. I don’t mean for it to sound so weird but I never stopped loving you,” he continued, cupping your cheeks gently.

“I just repressed all my feelings instead of dealing with them like an adult and --”

You pulled him into a kiss by the collar of his sweater, your lips meeting his and shutting him up mid sentence. When you pulled back, Seungkwan looked properly shocked. “Seungkwan,” you said softly, lips ghosting over his. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Take me home,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. His expression shifted and he nodded. “Oh, okay,” he murmured, pulling back. “I thought you drove here.” Your smile dropped before you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“I meant take me to your home, you idiot.”

His brow furrowed in confusion before the meaning of your words sank in and his eyes widened comically. “Oh!” he said loudly before you clapped your hand over his mouth. “Shh, shut up!” He nodded, pulling your hand from his mouth.

“Right,” he said, his voice lower again. “I’ll take you home,” he said softly.

You grabbed the two strips of photos from the photobooth and allowed Seungkwan to lead you from the festival, making his way over to his car. He unlocked the door and opened it for you, shutting the door and quickly jogging around to the driver’s side before getting in and starting the engine.

The drive back to his place, he tried to obey the traffic laws, he really did, but he was just too eager and impatient. When you noticed his knee bouncing, you reached over, taking his hand gently. “We have all night,” you said softly. “No need to be anxious.” Seungkwan shook his head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m not anxious,” he replied. “I’m impatient.”

Not long after, Seungkwan was pulling into his designated parking space, cutting the engine and making you wait so he could open your door for you. Inside the building, you tried to behave and keep your hands to yourself but the moment you entered the elevator, you lost your resolve.

“Oh, shit,” Seungkwan cursed as you pushed him back against the mirrored surface of the elevator wall, his hands moving to cup your face. “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” he grunted before taking your lips in a kiss, his tongue hot and messy against yours as your hands pulled at his clothes.

“Ssstop it!” he hissed, breaking the kiss and glancing up at the camera mounted to the shiny elevator ceiling. “Someone’s probably watching,” he whined, hands falling to your hips as your lips moved down his neck. “Then let’s give them a show,” you giggled in his ear, your breath tickling his skin.

The elevator dinged, Seungkwan pushing you back slightly. “We’re here,” he confirmed as the doors opened onto his floor. He took your hand and pulled, tugging you down the deserted hallway towards the door to his apartment. You were only able to get a brief glance at your surroundings as Seungkwan fished for his keycard.

The building was a new building, state of the art card readers on every door. The hallway reminding you of a fancy upscale hotel rather than an apartment building. Seungkwan managed to get the card to read properly and turned the handle, shoving the door open as he dragged you in behind him.

Once the door clicked shut, he had you pinned against it, lips attaching to your neck and leaving soft bites and kisses as he made his way down to your collar, whining at the lack of access due to your blazer. He fumbled with the button, succeeding a moment later and peeling the garment off you.

You kicked your heels off as he stumbled to take his shoes off. You giggled as he pulled you through the apartment, pushing you against the kitchen island as he grinded into you from behind, teeth grazing against the skin of your shoulder. You managed to stumble your way through the apartment to his bedroom, pulling layer after layer of clothes off one another, leaving you in just your underwear.

Once you were laid on the bed, Seungkwan hesitated, taking in your form under him. He could remember the last time he had you like this and it made his cock throb, wanting to bury himself inside you and never leave again.

“God,” he groaned, leaning down to press his face into your chest, his hips resting against yours as he lay between your thighs. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whined. “Kwannie,” you whined, combing your fingers through his hair, undoing the style he’d done earlier before the concert. He lifted his head, pushing himself up and hovering over you.

“Lay back,” you instructed, starting to sit up but Seungkwan placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back against the mattress. “Later,” he whispered, lowering his face to kiss your chest. “I just really wanna taste you,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed down your stomach.

“Wanna bury my face between these beautiful thighs,” he groaned, gripping your thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin over your stockings. “Okay,” you breathed as he kissed further down. He wasted no time removing your panties, flinging them away as he settled between your thighs, kissing the inside of each before his mouth descended on your sex, fingers spreading your folds.

You gasped out as he licked slowly up your sex, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes opened lazily as he made eye contact before shutting again as he threw himself into it, tongue wiggling against you, slurping and lapping at your clit. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, slipping inside you until he was knuckles deep.

“Ngh, Seungkwan,” you groaned, back arching off the mattress as he teasingly curled his fingers. “Sound so pretty for me,” he noted, barely pulling back enough to speak before he was licking at your clit, tongue moving quickly against it. His fingers started to pump slowly, just enough to build the tension but he would slow them to a stop when he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Can’t have you coming undone just yet,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your mound before pulling back, resting his head against the inside of your thigh as his fingers moved quicker, scissoring you open. He watched the rise and fall of your lace clad chest, admiring the way you whimpered and mewled as he fingered you.

“I could do this for hours,” he huffed, hot breath fanning over your skin. “D-don’t,” you murmured. “I need you, Kwannie.” You heard him chuckle lowly. “You need me?” he asked, raising his head slightly, turning to place a wet kiss against your thigh.

“Need me to stuff this pretty little pussy full?”

You nodded wordlessly, moans spilling from your lips instead of words. Seungkwan felt his heart swell. Seeing you needy and proclaiming that you needed him certainly was fanning the flames and stroking his ego. He wanted you to want him. Wanted you to need him. He loved feeling this way.

The way you made him feel. Like he was so irresistibly sexy. He loved feeling that way.

“Wanna feel me inside?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. You groaned, walls tightening around his fingers. “You like it when I talk like this?” he asked, raising himself just enough to see your face contorted in pleasure. You nodded fervently, another moan ripping from you as he curled his fingers.

“Wanna feel my cock pound this tight pussy?”

Seungkwan enjoyed the way you tensed up, thighs shaking as your orgasm threatened to wash over you. “I’ll give you what you want,” he murmured. “But only if you do something for me,” he added. You raised yourself up, resting on your elbows to look at him, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead. “Anything,” you whined. Seungkwan’s eyebrow quirked up. “Anything?” he asked.

You nodded, not realizing the implications of your words. “Yes,” you replied. “Anything. I’ll do whatever you ask, just please fuck me.” Seungkwan’s lips curled into a smile as he added a third finger, stretching your walls to prepare you. He glanced down, watching his fingers sink into your heat.

“Alright,” Seungkwan murmured, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing his hand to your lips. “Suck,” he ordered, cock twitching as you parted your lips and accepted his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking them clean. He pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“Keep going,” he continued, moving a hand over his hard cock. You took the hint instantly, pushing him onto his back and slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down as he lifted his hips. You licked your lips as his cock sprang up, standing proud.

You wasted no time, taking him in your fist and leaning over, spitting onto the tip and using your saliva to lubricate, your hand started to stroke him quickly. Seungkwan let out a groan, head falling back against the bed as your hand worked him.

When you took the head in your mouth, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, letting out a pretty pathetic moan but you didn’t seem to mind as you bobbed your head, keeping your fist at the base of his cock. Seungkwan’s hand moved, stroking your hair as he tried to push your head down further but you were firm and stood your ground.

“Please,” he whined, hips starting to buck. You pulled off him with a pop, looking at him as your hand moved up and down his cock. “Be patient,” you reminded him. “You made me wait,” you added. Seungkwan was about to retort when you took him back in your mouth, lips moving down to meet your hand as you continued to stroke him. He let out a groan instead, fingers digging into the bedding beneath him. “Fuck,” he grunted, stomach clenching. “Just like that. Just like that, baby.”

You hummed, your mouth vibrating around Seungkwan’s cock and making him gasp, hips bucking into your face. “Sh-shit!” he breathed. “Sl-slow down, babe.” You pulled him from your mouth, jerking him faster. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warned. You licked the head of his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip before sinking your mouth back on him.

“Fuck, babe, m’gonna cum,” he warned again. You pulled back, your hand stopping at the base of his cock and letting it fall slightly. Seungkwan let out a whine of protest. “What the hell!” he cried. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. “Can’t have you cumming just yet,” you said with a wink.

Seungkwan could have kicked himself. ‘Of course she’s gonna use that against you. Idiot.’

You continued to work him up, bringing him to the brink only to back off and let it slip away from him. Seungkwan was a mess, begging you to stop teasing him and to let him fuck you already.

“Please, baby,” he said, choking back a sob, tears threatening to spill. “Please let me fuck you. I need to be inside you. Please, baby. Please.” Your hand slowed to a stop, lightly squeezing his cock before you sat up. “Okay,” you murmured.

You climbed over him, turning to face away as you planted your hips over his thighs. Seungkwan watched as you grinded backwards against his cock, the sensation of your panties against his throbbing cock almost making him burst into tears. “B-baby. God, fuck. Please. Let me put it in. Let me fuck you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good!”

You scooted back further, reaching down to pull your panties aside and rub your dripping cunt against the underside of Seungkwan’s cock. The glide and friction felt so good, Seungkwan was certain he could have blown his load right then but just as quickly as it started, you lifted off him.

“Y/N, please,” he pleaded as you climbed off him. “Please let me fuck you.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him up as you laid back. “Only if you fuck my thighs first,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes. Seungkwan melted, moving quickly into position. “O-Okay?” he answered, sounding mildly confused.

You smiled up at him, taking his hand on your knee and placing it between your thighs, pressing it against your soaked panties. “I know you couldn’t get enough of my stockings earlier,” you explained. “You thought you were being slick and that I wouldn’t notice the way you were staring. But I did.”

Seungkwan groaned, moving his thumb to press against your clit through the red lace lingerie.

“And you like this set,” you added, hands moving to cup your breasts. “I noticed the way your eyes lit up when you saw it,” you added. Seungkwan nodded, licking his lips as he brought his free hand up to push one of your hands away, groping your chest. “Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “I do.”

“I fucking love how you look in it.”

You hummed in response, bringing your thighs up. “Then do me a favor and fuck my thighs,” you replied. “And then I’ll let you fuck this pussy. Raw.” Seungkwan choked on his own air as he moved into position, pushing your thighs tighter together. He brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into it before coating his cock. He guided the head between your thighs, pushing in between them with a groan.

It was so warm and soft. Tight. Almost like fucking you for real.

“Feels so good,” you heard him groan as he pulled back slightly to thrust back in slowly. You felt his saliva smear over your skin as his cock glided between your thighs. “Mmm, that’s it,” you murmured, looking up at him as his eyes fluttered shut, brown knitting together in concentration as he tried to focus.

“That’s good,” you groaned as you felt his cock bump against your cloth covered clit. “Just like that.”

Seungkwan’s fingers dug into your thighs, holding them together tightly as he thrust his hips, fucking between your thighs. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, eyes fluttering open to look down at you. The red lingerie, the black stockings and black garter belt. You were an absolute vision.

“C-can I fuck you now?” Seungkwan asked, tripping over his words as he continued to fuck your thighs. You shook your head, gasping again as you felt his cock nudge against your clit through your panties. “N-not yet-- ah!” you gasped.

Seungkwan took note of your reaction every time his cock brushed against your clit and continued to aim for the same spot. “Come on, princess,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you.” You stared up at him for a moment longer before stopping him.

You sat up, pushing him back against the mattress. You climbed over him, straddling his hips as you reached down, pulling your panties to the side. Seungkwan guided the head of his cock to your entrance, watching as you sank down, cunt enveloping him little by little.

You continued until you were sitting on him, walls gripping his cock tightly. Seungkwan let out a satisfied groan as your walls convulsed around his throbbing length. He wouldn’t last long but he didn’t care. He was inside you again after years. It felt so good. So familiar. So right.

After allowing your walls to relax around him, you placed your hands on his chest, raising your hips only to sink back down, his cock pumping into you. “F-fuck,” you groaned as you sank down, taking more of his cock.

“Ye-yes!” Seungkwan groaned as you started to move fast, bouncing on his cock. The wet sound of his cock entering you repeatedly filled the room, bouncing off the walls and drowning out your breathy moans. You felt his hands grip your hips, trying to speed up your movements.

You slowed to a stop, pushing yourself up until he slipped out of you. “Yah!” Seungkwan protested as you turned to face away, pulling your panties aside and waiting for him to move his cock. Once you felt the tip enter your cunt, you were back to moving, bouncing on his lap, his cock plunging into you.

You felt him grab your hips, one hand moving to massage your ass. “Fuck, we should have done this sooner,” he groaned, hips bucking up to meet your movements. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continued to ride him.

“Stay like that,” you heard him groan and felt his weight under you shift as he sat up. “Keep going,” he urged, trying to move your hips. You lifted your ass, sinking back on him. His hands pulling you back when you lifted up. You felt heat pool in your belly, a swelling sensation as tension mounted.

Each matched thrust had you crying out. Seungkwan pulled you off him, moving to kneel behind you before reentering you. “Come on,” he grunted, now meeting your movements with ferocity. “Fuck me like you mean it,” he growled. You let out a mewl, thighs shaking as his hips hit your ass, the slapping growing louder into a clap. “Fuck,” you gasped as Seungkwan pushed your chest down, taking over as he pounded into you from behind.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he growled. “Who’s the one fucking you this good?”

“Yuh-you are!” you stammered. “I am,” he reaffirmed. “I’m fucking you like the good little slut you are. My good little slut. Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, fingers clenching the sheets as you pushed back to meet his movements.

Each thrust drew a little whimper from you, sounds that grew into moans and mewls as Seungkwan continued to fuck you hard. “Who does this pussy belong to?” you heard him ask suddenly, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck and pushing your face down, squishing your cheek against the sheets. “You,” you gasped, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Say it,” Seungkwan commanded.

“It’s yours!” you cried out. “This pussy belongs to you!”

“Fucking right it does. And m’gonna fill it up until you’re dripping. M’gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, stuff it full, and then fuck it further into you. Pump you full of my cum ‘cause you’re mine. Understand?”

You nodded wordlessly, moan after moan tumbling from your lips onto the sheets along with your drool. “You’re mine and no one else’s! Say it!”

“I-I’m yours! A-and no one else’s!”

You heard Seungkwan groan, hips stuttering as he came, his cock twitching as he painted your walls with his hot thick load. He continued to thrust as he emptied his balls. You whimpered as he didn’t stop, hips still moving as he finally stopped pumping you full.

“Kw-Kwannie, please,” you pleaded. “S-stop. M’so full.”

Seungkwan’s hips came to a stop as he caught his breath. Somewhere between his initial release and the last of his cum spilling into you, your own orgasm had washed over you, rendering you immobile for a few moments as you came down.

You gasped as you felt Seungkwan pull from you, feeling some of his cum mixed with yours slide down the inside of your thigh. “Let me clean that up,” he mumbled. The weight on the bed shifted as he no doubt got up and walked into his bathroom.

He returned moments later, carefully wiping your skin with a warm, damp cloth. He climbed into bed next to you, pulling the covers up over the both of you before you both passed out. The next morning, you awoke to the bluish light of twilight filtering into the room.

You could hear Seungkwan’s soft snores behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. You started to roll over, a deep aching pain settling between your legs and making you wince. ‘We didn’t even go that hard last night,’ you thought to yourself as you peered over your shoulder at Seungkwan, taking in his angelic expression.

You tried to carefully roll in his hold but you jostled him and he started to stir, making you curse internally. You watched as his eyes fluttered open sleepily. When his eyes met yours, he smiled sleepily. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep from having just woken up.

“Morning,” you replied softly. Seungkwan leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “My head is killing me,” he whined suddenly and you were glad it wasn’t just you. “We should get some food,” you suggested. “Maybe make some ramyeon.” Seungkwan nodded, rolling onto his back and turning his head to look at the clock. “Later,” he murmured, rolling back to face you, wrapping both arms around your body and pulling you flush against him.

“It’s only half past five in the morning,” he explained, tucking your head under his chin and sighing contentedly. “We can sleep in longer,” he added. You nodded silently, snuggling up next to him. “And then we can make food?” you asked, smiling as you felt him nod. “And then we can make food,” he confirmed.

It was silent only for a few moments before Seungkwan spoke again.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmured, breaking the silence. You smiled, tilting your head to press a kiss to his jawline. “Well, I just moved back to the area,” you replied. “Good,” you heard him murmur. “I don’t think I could survive you leaving again like before.” You felt his lips press against your forehead.

You shook your head, letting out a relieved sigh. “Nah,” you answered.

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon disassembles his sand castle back into the original pattern without looking, Tim experiences multiple internal crisises, and someone passes by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Tim, in self-defense, grabs a couple of the little crostini things on said tray and offers one to Kon, who looks pleased about it. 

“I dunno, does this count as a party?” Kon asks, glancing around with a little grin before popping his hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. Tim does the same, then remembers this means that now he knows what Kon’s mouth tastes like again. Dammit. 

Kon’s mouth currently tastes like ricotta and roasted grape, which isn’t even necessarily a taste that especially appeals to Tim, aside from the part where it’s how Kon’s mouth currently tastes. Why do people even roast grapes? Why is that even a thing? 

Why does Kon look so attractive in slightly smudged eyeliner he put on for him and clothes he bought him? Like–Kon always looks attractive, it’s an incredibly unfortunate curse on the world, reflexively checking out his ass in spandex literally did get Tim thrown off a roof once, but this attractive? This is several new layers of “attractive” and Kon is wearing all of them like a second skin. A very tight and fitted and well-tailored second skin, to be specific. One with cutouts and short-shorts involved. 

This metaphor may be getting away from him. 

“Technically I think so, though maybe not the usual kind,” Tim says. “I mean, it’s sort of a party, it’s just mostly an event. Maybe they want donations or something, I don’t know. Museums usually do.” 

He assumes that’s what the ticket money went to, or at least a fair chunk of it. They were pretty expensive tickets, considering, but since it’s an adults-only special event that isn't obviously themed in either a rogue-baiting or rogue-planned way he hadn't really questioned it. Getting overcharged by a probably-underfunded art museum isn't exactly enough to trot out his inner Bat or inner future supervillain for. 

Well, as long as nobody on staff annoys or insults Kon, anyway. Because in that case he will be financially destroying this place. Like, obviously. It's a little early to be planning his supervillain calling cards, but “you know what you did” is an increasingly tempting option. 

Anyway, that's just a contingency plan. Totally unnecessary as long as Kon has a good time. 

“What’s over there?” Kon asks, peering towards another station. Tim wonders why he’s asking, since he assumes he can feel it, though in retrospect “feeling” whatever it is doesn’t necessarily explain the purpose or point of whatever it is. 

“No idea,” Tim says. “Why, does it feel interesting?” 

“Um.” Kon . . . hesitates, then glances back to him, looking oddly–embarrassed, almost? Weird, Tim thinks, repressing a frown. “It’s, uh . . . kinda, I guess. I dunno. Wanna check it out?” 

“Sure,” Tim says, peering towards it. It looks like a series of boxes with holes in them all stacked on top of each other, though he can’t see what’s actually inside them–there’s curtains or something built into them. He’s not really sure what the whole setup’s supposed to be, honestly, but if Kon’s interested . . . 

They head over, and it turns out the whole setup is basically the same theory as those haunted houses where they make you stick your hand in a box full of peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti and tell you they’re eyeballs and brains, although Tim is hoping peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti won’t actually be involved. 

“So there’s literally zero surprises here for you, I’m guessing,” Tim says wryly. Kon looks sheepish. 

“We can go do something else,” he says. 

“I mean, I’ll be surprised,” Tim points out. “So up to you if you’re interested or not.” 

“Okay, point, I guess,” Kon says, laughing a little and rubbing his arm self-consciously. “I dunno.” 

“Tell me which one to try?” Tim suggests, smiling at him. Kon laughs again, ducking his head to hide a grin. That continues to not be as effective as he probably wants it to be, given their height difference, but Tim has no intention of pointing that out. He doesn’t want to make Kon more self-conscious, and also it’s fucking adorable. 

Bastard. 

“You sure about that?” Kon says, his grin turning sly as he glances back towards him. “You don’t know what’s in there, babe.” 

“I’m willing to live a little dangerously,” Tim replies with an easy shrug. Kon laughs again. 

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teases.

Tim quickly regrets letting Kon pick which boxes he should stick his hands in via trying said boxes, but also Kon just looks so fucking cute laughing at the different faces he makes for every one, so it’s hard to actually get annoyed about it. Also, Kon admittedly did warn him. 

Although he might’ve rather put up with the peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti, honestly.

Seriously. Those are some textures, ugh.

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 05

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 4,4k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.)

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: “It's time for you to go, I suppose. Is that correct, boy?”

You nearly winced at how patronizing Michael addressed Bucky. It was almost insulting, meant to put Bucky back in his place. He, however, looked composed, but you got to know him well enough to be aware that he would rip Michael's head off if the opportunity arose.

At first you saw it as a nightmare, the meeting with John Walker. No matter how many times you told yourself you were fulfilling your duty to the Family, fear, uncertainty and stress were the only things that duty brought you. Yet, given the darkest scenarios swirling in your mind, and memories of the meeting with Brock Rumlow, John seemed like a really decent type. 

He invited you to dinner to one of the most expensive, top rated restaurants in the city. To get in, it was usually necessary to make a reservation several weeks in advance. Suspecting that his highly influential uncle had a hand in the whole venture, you appreciated the effort anyway. You were surprised, however, that John didn't give up, didn’t take the path of least resistance, despite the fact that you hadn't shown any interest so far. 

Without being gross or intrusive, he complimented the red dress you wore; asked about your work and hobbies, didn't mention business. You felt like you were on a real date, moreover, a nice one. Seeing that jumping from Brock to John wasn't going from bad to worse let you feel at ease. For the first time in, it seemed, an eternity.

Despite everything, there was something missing. You had no desire to throw yourself at John, no curiosity about what his lips tasted like. Essentially, you didn't need that in an arranged marriage, but guessed there will be time for everything. With Bucky, though, time was necessary – all you needed was a single look. But he wasn’t an option.

“Wow, that was… beautiful,” John claimed after you laughed at the joke he told. In reality, you were amused by how unfunny and stupid the joke was. Perhaps the consumed alcohol and the pleasant atmosphere also played a part. 

“Well… Thank you,” you said, lifting a glass of wine to your lips. When you emptied it, John immediately came with a refill. “Don't you think we should talk about business?” 

“What exactly do you want to talk about?”

“How would that work,” you suggested with a casual shrug. “You haven't mentioned an agreement yet, so I suspect you haven't prepared one. That's a bit…” You hesitated, wondering briefly if you would offend him with your choice of words. “Strange, considering, you know, the nature of our profession.”

John smiled, then hung his head and shook it. “I guess we'll just have to trust each other. Not to sound like an asshole, but I've heard that Rumlows have backed out. At least for now. If not them, your father's business will be ruined, leaving your Family with nothing. I also know that Stark has started to turn his nose at your partnership. You’re in a bind, Y/N. And I want to do this the easy way. No complex agreement, just some basic arrangements.” He raised his hands up in surrender.

You were struck by how honest and straightforward he was. Fair to both of you. 

“But… Why?” You asked quietly. “Why are you so nice about it?” 

“You don’t know?” He pretended to be surprised. “I've always wanted you, and now I have my chance. I don't want to do it through a system of rules and punishments. Not too bad, right? And taking charge of what your father created will help me strengthen my position.”

There was a moment of silence as John gave you time to process what he just said. Soon, however, he grabbed his glass and raised it for a small toast.

“So, what'll it be? Can I keep trying or are you giving up on me?”

It was clear that he wasn't really offering you a choice – you could only decide how to play it; keep John at a distance, or make it easier for him to approach you, let him court you.

Having clinked glasses, you both drank the wine, but you could barely taste it. Only the bitterness that the future was to bring. At this point you thought you were prepared for a marriage without love or at least friendship, but the closer you got to one, the more panic you felt. Being aware that the whole situation was difficult, you still didn't expect such a burden.

“Don’t worry,” John added, seeing the concern on your face. “Maybe one day you'll love me. Maybe when kids come along.” He shrugged. Your eyes widened, but John didn't mind it. “What? Someone will have to take care of your father's legacy in case we're gone, don't you think?” He smiled sincerely. You wondered if he was already fantasizing about the future with you. 

Destroying the atmosphere with the shock you experienced wasn’t part of your intentions. The only right idea was to kill the negative feelings with a little more alcohol, so you asked John to refill your glass again, and he did so with pleasure. While dipping your lips in the wine, your eyes wandered mindlessly around the room until they landed on a familiar face – the last person you expected to be here.

You choked, and the sticky drink dripped down your chin. A momentary, barely noticeable panic crossed Bucky's face as he watched you carefully from his table – as if he was concerned that you might have choked to death. However, he stayed in place; rushing to help you would have exposed him.

“Oh God, are you all right?” John handed you a napkin right away, which you accepted and wiped your chin with a few delicate taps to avoid washing off your makeup. 

“I’m sorry. Gone down the wrong way,” you struggled for breath. 

“It’s fine. Are you sure you're all right?” 

“I’m okay,” you said, still feeling the aftertaste of wine deep in your throat. “Excuse me for a moment.” Grabbing your purse, you got up from the table.

“Of course.” John also stood up from his seat, watching you walk away towards the toilets.

You put your bag next to the sink and focused on your reflection in the mirror. Tears, which filled your eyes as a result of choking, smudged your mascara, and the wine – just as you suspected – ruined the foundation on your chin. Yet, you weren't bothered by the poor condition of your makeup. Your thoughts revolved solely around the fact that you just saw Bucky. You would’ve been tempted to treat it as a mere coincidence, if not for him staring directly at you. It was probably his intense gaze that drew you in that direction.

The door opened, and at this point you were ready to see anyone; you wouldn't be surprised if your father decided to come back from the dead and show up here. But it was just Bucky. Again.

“What are you doing here?” You grated, crumpling a used piece of paper towel in your hand, with which you had wiped the remnants of mascara from under your eyes. 

“Are you kidding me? The wine almost came shooting out of your nose, I had to check on you.” His forehead furrowed.

“I’m not talking about the toilet! What are you doing in this restaurant?”

Squinting, Bucky thrust his hands in his pockets, and sized you up. 

“So?” You pressed, the tone of your voice impatient. 

“You really think I'd let you come out here alone?” He finally let out. Your battle ready attitude had eased somewhat, but Bucky was surveying you sternly. “You gave me your permission to protect you, remember? So I’m trying to do that.” 

“But John wanted this meeting to be more... private.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath. “And nobody found that unusual?” He sneered. “You shouldn't drink that much,” he added after a moment, slightly changing the subject. 

Your brows snapped together. “I drink exactly as much as John.”

“Yeah, except John is three times your size,” he said unmoved. “Look, I'm not stopping you from anything. Drink yourself unconscious if you want. I'm just saying you should be careful around guys like John Walker.”

The urge to ask him to elaborate on the thought crossed your mind, but you didn't really have the time. You didn't want to arouse suspicion by spending too long in the toilet.

“I’ll be careful,” you promised with a sigh. “See you later..?”

Bucky's face softened with surprise, his eyebrows rose slightly. There was no trace of the earlier toughness. “Sure.”

The corners of your mouth turned up with all the tenderness you had for him. You grabbed your purse, then left.

When you returned to your table, John greeted you back with a smile – but it wasn't a smile that melted your heart, or one that caused the butterflies in your stomach to go wild. It wasn't Bucky's smile.

When the black SUV pulled over near the Barnes' mansion, you thanked the driver and dismissed him, assuring that you would be fine if you needed to get home. You left the car, reached for your high heels, which you had taken off immediately after being picked up from your date with John, and closed the door behind you. Having spotted Winnifred right away, you made your way to her. She must have been tending the flowers in front of the house up to now, as you could conclude from her gloves and knees, dirty with soil.

“Y/N, how lovely to see you again.” The warm tone of her voice and the friendly look on her face didn't allow you to even consider that she might be insincere. And although you didn't get to know George Barnes personally, you presumed that Bucky and Josephine inherited their gloomy, ironic, a bit dark and sassy way of being from him. “What brings you here, sweetheart?”

“I came to see Bucky.”

Winnifred grinned even wider. “He is at the back of the house. In the garage,” she said after a brief quietness, which she spent observing you. That's probably why you didn’t move a step. “Oh, your fathers would absolutely love it.”

Smiling tentatively, you gave her a questioning, slightly confused look. “They would..?”

“Our oldest was a boy, your parents’...” She motioned at you. “a girl. So when you and Jamie were younger, your dad and my George used to joke all the time about pairing you two so that everything could stay in the family. But it was just a joke,” Winnifred emphasized. 

Was it, though? Given the world your fathers came from, the environment you and Bucky grew up in, and the situation you were currently in, was it just a joke? Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but you began to wonder what would have happened if your father was still alive – would he have let you settle down on your own, without Brock or John's presence, or would he have married you to Bucky? 

He wouldn’t. Because Bucky didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want you. 

There was something else bothering you. You already knew that your families were close, yet you had no memories that would prove it. “Why did you stop being friends? If I may ask…”

“It's no mystery,” Winnifred said lightly, smiling. “You know how your mom is,” she began. You guessed that politeness prevented her from saying directly that your mother tended to be paranoid, but regardless of her choice of words, you nodded. “I think she got scared that our husbands would actually turn words into action. She made it clear that she wanted a lawyer, a doctor or an estate agent for you. But it seems that, despite all the odds, you and Jamie found your way to each other anyway.”

You felt your face turning red along with the heat spreading in your stomach. So you weren’t wrong; it was in your blood – the affection you had for Bucky. No wonder you two clicked the moment your eyes met. However, in this situation, it was like a curse. 

“You have a beautiful garden,” you admitted to break the silence and, above all, your own thoughts. In fact, Mrs. Barnes’ garden looked a little bare, incomplete. The flowers were just beginning to bloom.

“It is promising,” she agreed. “But I’m done for the day, it’s getting late. Why don’t you come in? I’ll make us some tea.” 

“Oh, thank you.” You shook your head. “I was supposed to see Bucky, so… I should go.”

“In this case, I’m not keeping you.” Winnifred beamed at you. 

Keeping in mind the place where you expected to find Bucky, you headed to the back of the mansion. Evening dew had collected on the freshly trimmed lawn; not the most pleasant experience to your bare feet, but you preferred it to uncomfortable high heels, which probably wouldn't have handled this soft ground anyway. There was a peace and solitude that was lacking where you lived – there were no cars, no lights of street lamps, no noise of the city.

The garage was not difficult to locate; especially as there were quiet sounds indicating someone's presence. 

Bucky stood in front of a lifted hood of another vintage car. But instead of focusing on the vehicle, your thoughts wandered uncontrollably to Bucky's broad back as he was leaning forward, probably working on the car’s engine. His muscles were clearly visible under the tight fabric of his t-shirt. You felt your mouth watering.

He raised his head slightly, as if listening for something, then looked over his shoulder. He didn't say a word, but returned the favor by fixing his gaze on you – his eyes darkened with the same rawness as when he saw you in your house that night. Beginning from your bare feet and slowly moving up, he scrutinized your whole body, studying the curves of your thighs, hips and breasts. And you couldn’t blame him since your red dress was even tighter than his t-shirt. 

Letting out a shaky breath, you got rid of the excess air churning in your lungs. “So, you like old cars.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, keeping his eyes on you. After a while, however, he focused on the vehicle. “That one belonged to my old man. I don't want it to rot here.”

Based on how Bucky responded to Brock's mention of his father, you presumed that George Barnes was a sore subject. So you were surprised, maybe even a little touched, that he was now bringing it up himself. You did ask him, but he could brush you off or say nothing.

Driven by some subconscious need to be closer, you took a few mindless steps and stood not far from the vehicle. It was colder inside the garage than outside, so you instinctively folded your arms, trying to keep as much of your own warmth as possible.

“What car is that, exactly?” You asked genuinely curious, eyeing the cream body. 

“Chrysler. From 1970.”

“What about your Mustang?”

Bucky squinted suspiciously, smiling. “The Mustang is a year older…” He answered hesitantly. “You’re into cars, too?” 

“Not, but-” You let out a quiet laugh, knowing how you were about to sound. “This era was the sexiest for cars. And it suits you.” 

His eyebrows rose with astonishment. He shook his head, then got back to the uncovered engine. “This was the most twisted compliment I've ever heard.”

“You’re welcome.” You grinned, fluttering your lashes. 

Having checked out your surroundings, you concluded that the inside of the garage wasn’t interesting enough for you to keep your eyes somewhere. So you dropped them to Bucky's hands. Stained with grease, they appeared to be the hands of a professional; they knew exactly what to do. No accidental, hesitant movements.

“How was it?” He asked. You immediately looked up at his face. “With John.”

“I made a pretty good impression on him, I think. He wants to have babies with me,” you said casually.

Stopping everything he was doing, Bucky tensed at your words, a muscle in his jaw twitched. “And you? Do you want to have babies with him?” 

“Looks like a baby-free deal doesn’t exist, so if I have to…” You shrugged. The alcohol in your system kept you from panicking at the very thought. Or was it Bucky's presence that had that effect on you? After all, you felt safe around him, so no prospect seemed so frightening. “Why don't you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?” The question suddenly left your mouth, because since it popped into your head, you decided to satisfy your own curiosity right away. “You are attractive. Very attractive. Protective, maybe too protective…” You squinted. “But people, especially girls, like it. You can be really funny if you want to, you have money and position. And some pretty cool cars.” 

“What’s with all these compliments?” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“I get flirty after wine.” You waved your hand dismissively, not intending to continue with this particular topic. “I remember you were, well, a ladies’ man.” You pressed your lips together; you wondered if you should have used that term. It's not that you didn't think it was accurate - you just didn't want to offend Bucky, or upset him.

But he looked at you, smiling with a softness that in no way matched the whole situation. “You remember me?” He repeated. As if it was the most obvious thing, you nodded in response, your forehead furrowed. “I didn’t know you were aware of me.”

“Don't change the subject.”

Bucky sighed heavily, but did not answer straight away. “I liked being around women. Still do. But in a different way. I’ve changed, I guess. Matured, realized a few things. I had a lot of time to think over the last two years.” 

You listened to everything he had just shared and, despite your drunken boldness, you didn't have the courage to bring up his father's death again or to find out more about the lessons he had learned over the mentioned two-year period. You decided to grab onto something else. “In a different way? What do you-”

“That I don’t try to sweep them off their feet, or wrap them around my finger,” he said calmly, but there was something in the way he was talking to you and, for a second, you felt like a scolded child. “I don't hit on them, I don't flirt, I don't try to be charming or funny. If they want to fuck, we fuck. But I'm not looking for an opportunity to take someone to bed.”

Overwhelmed by the information you wanted yourself to hear, you didn't know where to look. “Mhm…” You murmured, trying to appear completely relaxed, maybe even indifferent. On the other hand, you presumed your cheeks that turned pink gave you away. “And you…” You began, partly to talk about something else, partly out of pure curiosity. “Do you remember me? From back then?” 

Bucky loosened up a bit, a smirk crept across his lips. He reached for a piece of cloth slung over his shoulder, and got rid of the grease off his hands by wiping them thoroughly. “Maybe,” he answered, shrugging. It was clear he was teasing you, and you wondered if it was some kind of punishment for bothering him with personal questions. “Watch your fingers,” Bucky warned gently, so you took a step away from the car, then he closed the Chrysler’s hood. “I’ll drive you home, huh?”

When the car finally stopped near the familiar building, you breathed a sigh of relief – you were only a few steps away from a warm shower and a comfy bed.

Before you could touch the handle, Bucky's hand wrapped hastily around your forearm. You turned your gaze to him to see what had come over him, and saw a completely controlled unease painted on his face. 

“You know that car?” 

Having followed his gaze, you spotted a vehicle; you did not recall it belonging to Michael or anyone in the Family. “Not really.”

Bucky reached into the glove compartment above your lap and pulled out a gun. It was only then that you felt a sprouting anxiety; not out of fear for your life, but at the thought that something might happen to Bucky because he'd decided to get you home.

“Come on,” he said, and there was nothing but calmness in his voice. 

You got out of the Mustang and joined Bucky on the other side of the car. 

“Stay behind me, okay?” he instructed, and you didn't protest only because you didn't want to sabotage the possible plan he had formed in his mind. You nodded, and just as he asked you to, you kept two steps behind his back.

You cautiously entered the house, Bucky keeping his gun low but unlocking it earlier, his finger close to the trigger. It was dark inside, except for the warm light pouring out of the living room. It was also where the quiet conversation was coming from; you recognised Michael's voice, and it put you a little bit at ease – you didn't think he was in danger, or that you two were the ones who were threatened. You touched Bucky's arm gently to prevent a potential reaction. 

As you approached the living room, that’s when Bucky really tensed up. Seeing Michael in the company of John Walker wasn't exactly a delight for you either. No one needed to speak; it only took a few glances for the atmosphere to thicken in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N,” Michael’s displeased tone pierced the heavy silence. “What is he doing here?”

“Making sure she gets home safely,” Bucky asserted before you had a chance to think about who Michael actually had in mind. 

“From where?” John interjected; he sounded casual, amused even, but his edgy smile said otherwise. “Should I feel threatened?” His question, thrown around as if playfully, only confirmed your assumption that John was unsure of his position.

“No, of course not,” you protested right away.

Michael could have drilled down. However, you could see that he didn't want to do that – he didn't want to raise doubts about what you were doing with Bucky; to give John a reason to back off. All he cared about was putting an end to the subject as soon as possible and not returning to it – making it seem forgotten at least. “It's time for you to go, I suppose. Is that correct, boy?”

You nearly winced at how patronizing Michael addressed Bucky. It was almost insulting, meant to put Bucky back in his place. He, however, looked composed, but you got to know him well enough to be aware that he would rip Michael's head off if the opportunity arose. 

“Correct,” Bucky agreed. He held his gaze on Michael for a while longer, then, a brief glance was everything he got for you, and it felt cold – like when he left you in that pub. You watched him walk away, but Michael's grunt brought your attention back.

You didn’t stay with Michael and John. Hiding behind a long, tough day and pouring honey in their ears by telling them you didn't want to disturb an obviously important discussion that your feminine mind wouldn't comprehend, you got away. Still, there was something bothering you. So, not long after the desired refreshment and making sure Michael was alone, you went down to the living room.

Michael peeked at you, looking up from his newspaper, waiting patiently for you to raise the matter on which you had come here. 

You sat down in the armchair next to his, and for some reason, nervousness led you to occupy your hands with the belt of a soft, fluffy robe you wore after the shower. “Why was John here?” 

“To speak about business,” he said immediately, still focusing on the paper. 

“Right, let me put that differently…” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Why do you think John was here?”

This time Michael did not answer straight away. Nor did he appear to be thinking about the answer; his eyes roamed over the next lines of text. “I believe he wants to control you. Keep an eye on his investment.” He closed and put the newspaper down on the end table between the chairs, then looked straight at you. “Do you want my advice? You'd better let him,” he said. It wasn’t the content of his words that caused your forehead to crease, but the determination with which he said them. “At least two candidates backed out after Bucky beat Brock. Men are afraid to approach you because you got yourself a guard dog.”

At least two candidates, and you had no idea about that. 

“He didn’t beat Brock because of me,” you protested. 

“But he did it. They don't know the details, they don't need them. All they need is that it happened at a meeting that should have ended with marriage. Instead, it ended with Brock Rumlow's broken nose. Of course,” Michael continued. “There were those who were encouraged by it. Who thought it must be a game worth playing. But I turned them down right away, because only a fool would think he stood any chance with Bucky Barnes,” he almost spat. Then, he took a deep breath to release the tension. “He would be a perfect candidate, you know?” 

Although you had lowered your head somewhere during Michael’s monologue, you now raised your eyes to him. Your heart was racing, gaining a familiar, nearly furious rhythm. 

“The friendship of your families, the power and reputation that the name Barnes holds… And it turns out that Bucky Barnes is the only man in New York who doesn't fight for your hand in marriage.” Michael smiled bitterly. 

You looked away to avoid having to face Michael. You crushed under the weight of the awareness that his words had aroused in you. Experiencing far too many emotions at once – you felt angry, sad, disappointed and even a little betrayed – you were hopeless as never before.

“I know that this is difficult,” Michael spoke again. “However, we can't lose John. We can't be sure there will be more better candidates, and even if there will be, we don't have enough time. I don't know what you got yourself into with Bucky, but he can't protect you until he becomes your husband, which he has no desire to do. So whatever is going on between you two has to stop. Now.”

“What does that mean? I can’t see him anymore?” You asked, your voice weak.

“You don’t have to run for the hills each time you accidentally meet him,” he clarified. “But whether you continue to be friends will depend entirely on your husband.”

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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