#I really can't write something nice without writing something dark right afterwards

[soundcrusher]

The Hunt

Part 5 of season 2 from my ongoing story set in the sentient SG/LL au from @cuppajj is out everyone! Wooo!

You guys don't know how happy I am for finally getting this out, after starting Thrillchaser's part yesterday in the evening, when I was nott very there....

I was very tired.

Either way, please enjoy.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Trauma(??) and Phoenix has a small panic attack.

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It took Thrillchaser a while to find Rodimus and Phoenix, despite the tracker he put onto their ship. Something that would have made the former Autobot hunter mad in the past, but now? Now he was incapable of feeling anything, especially if it involved hunting stray mechs running from their home and him not finding them. 

Sometimes, he missed being able to feel anything. He was, after all, named after the one thing he loved doing the most. Chasing thrills and seeing where they would lead him. But ever since his ‘correction’ on board the Lost Light, he no longer felt the need to do so. Now, all he could do was follow orders and nothing more. Maybe that was his punishment for leaving behind his only love and their sparkling. Being reduced to nothing more than a simple puppet for a ship hellbent on keeping their prime in their grasp. A puppet who failed to make sure their masters favorite mech and the youngling they found wouldn’t leave them. 

Thrillchaser’s plating rattled, as he remembered what happened after Rodimus and Phoenix made their escape. Yes, the Lost Light was pleased with him for putting a tracker onto the ship they took, but they still punished him for not keeping an eye on both of them. It wasn’t like the first punishments he got. The Lost Light already knew that he could no-longer feel anything for those he killed, and those who died. So, they took advantage of the last thing he could feel, until that was gone too. Which meant that Thrillchaser now not only has no concept of emotions, but also pain. Pain was nothing to him anymore. He could be taken apart, but he wouldn’t scream. He wouldn’t beg. And he wouldn’t feel anything at all.

Maybe that’s why the local Cybertronians of this neutral colonie avoided him. They probably could feel something was off with him. But they didn’t stop him from walking through their village, nor did they stop him, as he made his way towards the farm located on the outskirts. A farm, he learned from watching his prey for weeks, was visited frequently by both Rodimus and Phoenix. Often to do work, but sometimes they would go there to simply talk with the couple living on the farm. 

Something the Lost Light was not happy about, as he reported his findings to them. In fact, they seemed angry, dare he say outraged at the thought of their captain and little bird spending time with the old couple. But Thrillchaser could not stop them from visiting the old mech and femme, unless he wanted to give away the element of surprise. So, he did nothing concerning Softstreet and Fungus and just kept his optics on his prey. Waiting for the right opportunity to strike. 

And his time came, as he saw Phoenix alone near the ship the two mechs called their home. As far as Thrillchaser knew, Rodimus was in the village getting supplies, while leaving Phoenix unprotected. An ideal condition for capture. So, Thrillchaser carefully adjusted his gun arm, before aiming at a branch above Phoenix. If he didn’t miscalculate, the branch would fall down and knock the unsuspecting youngling out, before he could even let out one scream. Of course, Thrillchaser could also shoot the youngling and capture him, while he was laying on the ground and holding his wound, but then Phoenix would still be able to scream. And that could alert the prime. Something Thrillchaser didn’t want to happen, because then he would have to give up on an advantage. 

So, Thrillchaser took his shot and hit the branch. Watching it as it fell down and right on top of Phoenix’s head. Knocking the youngling out before he could even scream. But before the flier could even claim his prize, the sound of someone rushing into the clearing stopped him. Which meant Thrillchaser couldn’t get out of his hiding place in the bushes and had to watch Rodimus Prime pick up the youngling and quickly rush into the ship. Taking off shortly afterwards. 

Great, Thrillchaser couldn’t wait to report back to the Lost Light. They sure enough will be thrilled to know that he almost had them.

...

Phoenix didn’t know what happened. It was a normal day for him. Well, as normal of a day it can be for a youngling like him. He and Rodimus just came back from Fungus and Softstreet’s farm, with him staying by the ship and reading a data-pad underneath a nearby tree, while Rodimus went back towards the market to buy more supplies. 

Usually, Phoenix would have gone with his brother, but today? He didn’t want to, and Rodmius accepted that, despite him looking like he didn’t want to leave him behind. Maybe he should have gone with Rodimus but then again, how should he have known something would hit him in the head? At least, Phoenix thought something hit him in the head. It hurts like something did. Maybe he should open his optics and see if there is a dent in his helm now. Would be stupid if there was.

With that thought in mind, Phoenix opened his optic, only to be med with utter darkness surrounding him. Well, it wasn’t completely dark, there was a small light coming from somewhere down the hall he was standing in… Wait… this hall looked familiar. This wasn’t their new home. Their ship didn’t have long hallways, nor did it have this many doors. No.

Nonononono! This wasn’t their ship.

He was back. Why was he back? He didn’t want to be back!

He didn’t want to be back on the Lost Light!

But before Phoenix could spiral down into his own thoughts, the sudden movements he could hear coming from behind stopped him. They were light, too light to belong to any cybertronian he knew. Scratch that, he knew exactly who was walking behind him. He knew, and that made him start running down the hall. Taking turns and weaving through cables hanging from the walls and jumping over pipes coming out of the floor. 

Phoenix knew exactly who was behind him, and this time, he would make sure that the Stranger wouldn’t catch up on him. Well, at least he tried to run from the stranger as best as he could, but just like in their first encounter, Phoenix was cornered in the bridge. With the only difference being that there was no Rodimus sitting in the captain’s chair. Where was his brother? Isn’t he supposed to be here? It doesn’t matter. The Stranger was coming closer and Phoenix had nowhere to go. No place to hide in and no other plan than to face the Stranger head on. 

So, Phoenix waited for the stranger to enter the bridge, with nothing more than his closed fists as defense. And despite the fear gnawing at his spark, Phoenix stood his ground. With his wings spreading out defensively, as soon as the Stranger entered the bridge. Although, something wasn’t right. At first, the Stranger was clad in shadows like the first time Phoenix met them, but the closer they stepped, the more he could make out. And slowly, the Strangers' shadows morphed into a shape known to the youngling. The Stranger looked like Lightlost. No… the Stranger WAS Lightlost. 

“What is wrong, little bird? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Asked Lightlost in that same voice they would use when they would soothe Phoenix’s worries. But then again, they also used that voice when they locked him in that room, and when they… when they took his wings. “Well, I am happy to see you. But, why did you run? Was it because of what your past crew did? Was it because I locked you in the hab-suite? By now, you should know that I only did it, because I only had your best interests in mind.” With each word, Lightlost took one step closer to the frozen youngling. 

Why wouldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he move?! Phoenix wanted to run, he wanted to get away, he wanted to run past Lightlost and escape this nightmare, but he couldn’t! He couldn’t move! If it wasn’t because of the fear that froze him to the spot, then it was because of the cables slowly sneaking up his body and holding him down. Either way, Phoenix could only stare at the mech he saw as a parent, as they slowly walked past him, to stay behind his back and softly place a servo on the younglings left wing. Something that caused Phoenix’s plating to shudder from both fear and the slowly rising panic in his spark. 

“I see that someone has repaired your wings… I do not like them. They make you look too different from my captain.” Said Lightlost, before letting out a cheerful chuckle. “I guess that means I have to remove them again.” And by removing, Phoenix knew what they truly meant, and it hurt like the first time Lightlost took his wings. Maybe even worse. Either way, Phoenix’s screams were just as blood curdling as before.

...

Rodimus didn’t think much after making sure they were off the planet. Why should he? The prime already knew that finding this planet was too good to be true and that they stayed too long. That’s why he made sure to gather enough supplies, especially after he heard from Fungus that a strange mech was walking around town. Alone from the description, he knew that Thrillchaser had found them. How, he didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. Not when he found Phoenix getting knocked out by a branch the exact moment he decided to come back to their ship. It was too much of a coincidence to be anything else than that blasted Autobot  hunter. So, Rodimus took the rash decision of leaving the planet right then. Even if they couldn’t say goodbye to Fungus and Softstreet. Something he was sure Phoenix would hold under his nose. The youngling has become quite attached to the old couple after all. And Rodimus had to admit, that he himself also has started to like the old wolf and grounder. 

But he shouldn’t think about them. Not now. Not when he had to figure out where to head to now. There was a nice planet they could use to go undercover to get the interior change completed. Although, there was the trouble of the DJD sometimes showing up. Granted, wherever they go, the DJD could show up, and Rodimus was sure that they would try to ‘save’ Phoenix from him. Something a normal mech would let them do, but Rodimus wasn’t sure if he was ready to let the youngspark go. 

Rodimus was harshly pulled from his thoughts, as he heard Phoenix’s screams. Which led to him dropping his map and quickly rushing towards the back of the ship. Spotting his brother on the bed they made. Tangled up in various blankets, while the young spark tossed either in pain or in an attempt to escape whatever he was dreaming off. And frankly, Rodimus didn’t care about which of the two things was right, not when his brother was clearly dreaming of something that caused him distress.

So, he quickly made his way over to Phoenix and sat down next to him. Carefully stroking the younglings head to see if it would calm him down, while either softly humming or telling Phoenix that he was safe. And it seemed to work, because his brother slowly calmed down, before completely stopping with his trashing and opening his optics.

“Hey there…” Whispered Rodimus, as he gave Phoenix a small reassuring smile. Something the youngling seemed to appreciate, because he smiled back. Although, something that took the prime by surprise, was Phoenix quickly getting up and hugging him. A hug, Rodimus gave his brother back, while softly muttering reassuring words. 

“It was them… wasn’t it? It has always been them…” Whispered Phoenix quietly, after a moment of silence. 

“Who are you talking about?” Asked Rodimus.

“Lightlost… The Stranger has always been them… hasn’t it?” Whispered Phoenix yet again. “… Wh-why didn’t I see it? I should have… I should have…. Lightlost took my wings… They took them! Roddy, they took my wings! And… and they… they… And I still like them! I still see them as a parent! Roddy… what… what is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?!” 

Rodimus, for the first time since their escape, felt helpless as he watched his brother slowly spiraling more and more into a panic attack. Phoenix didn’t even respond to him softly calling his name. Instead, Rodimus had to watch the young spark tremble in his arms, while he softly clutched his head in his servos. Letting out soft mutters then and there. 

So, after letting out a defeated sigh, Rodimus decided to simply hold his brother close to his spark, while softly rocking back and forth. Waiting for Phoenix to calm down, before saying something. “Phoenix… nothing is wrong with you. And I am saying this with all of my spark. Nothing is wrong with you. You can trust me on that.” And that’s the way they stayed for a while, with Rodimus holding Phoenix, while the younger mech worked through his confusing emotions. Then and there, Phoenix would start a conversation with Rodimus about random topics, and Rodimus, knowing that Phoenix was searching for a way to distract himself, simply obliged. Knowing full well that it might not be the best course of action, but Rodimus wasn’t a professional and he wanted to make his brother feel comfortable. Also, it seemed to help, because Phoenix was a lot calmer after having a nice talk with Rodimus. 

And as Rodimus watched his brother get up to start cooking with the newly installed kitchen, the prime couldn’t help but hope that the next planet they landed on would be far enough away from Thrillchaser and the Lost Light.  

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Hands Off [Requested]

softdom!Sunwoo x gf!reader

Request: Sunwoo likes to play with his girlfriend's breasts

Warnings: mentions of bullying, body image, underage drinking, anxiety (very brief), titfucking

Long overdue request for @ace-seventeen-world , I hope you like it! Also first time writing anything about titfucking, I hope it turned out alright. 🙏🏽

Sunwoo loves you even when you don't feel like loving yourself.

Being well-endowed since puberty hit meant you received a lot of unwanted attention from all genders. Some would pass judgement, calling you desperate for attention; and some would ogle and make lewd comments. This led to you coming to school wearing oversized baggy clothes and even turtlenecks no matter the weather. The less your body was apparent for people to judge, the better, you thought. Except the comments never stopped. You were so sick of your body being the talk of the student population of your small-town high school that you couldn't wait to graduate; and move far away to start afresh in college, where you futilely hoped that people would be more mature about these things.

Moving away for college turned out to be the best decision you made. You made a whole bunch of new, more mature friends who taught you to embrace and appreciate your body. Inappropriate comments from strangers still came your way, but with your new, reliable support system, you learnt to shut them out, and your girlfriends would even try to fight them for you, which made you feel very touched and grateful. Apparently, this sincerity didn't stop with just your good friends. That was also how you met your current boyfriend. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a party during your first semester, and you allowed them to doll you up, upon much pestering. You were dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, which turned some heads at the party, and though you felt rather self-conscious in the beginning, you loosened up after a few drinks and dances. From there, you didn't care if people paid good or bad attention to you; all you wanted was to have fun with your best friends.

One of your friends introduced you to a gaggle of other first- and second-years, who were very loud and goofy, except for one; who had previously been laughing boisterously along with them until he set his eyes on you. He abruptly stopped laughing when you made eye contact, and you could have sworn he developed a light flush. With pouty lips and dark eyes, and a mop of fluffy black hair, he smiled shyly at you, nodding in acknowledgement and softly introducing himself. His voice was deep and had an attractive drawl and a pleasant raspiness. His name was Sunwoo, and you ingrained it into your memory easily, smiling shyly back at him. You mostly kept to yourself as the rest of them chatted, nursing your drink when a flurry of words and a loud slap shook you. You whipped around to see one of the boys, with cotton-candy hair and sharp feline eyes rubbing his arm and muttering under his breath next to Sunwoo, who was staring at you while whispering something to the boy - Eric, was it?

"Apologize!" Sunwoo hissed, nudging him. You tried to back off but Eric nervously came forward and rubbed his neck sheepishly, stuttering an apology while avoiding your eyes. He didn't specify what he was apologizing for, but you already had an inkling. All your friends were now staring at you, confused as to what had transpired. Unable to handle the stifling awkwardness, you quickly murmured "It's fine, Eric," before speedwalking away to get some fresh air, unaware that a certain dark-haired boy was scurrying after you. You turned to the nearest balcony and hurriedly gulped some fresh air to calm down, all-too-familiar feelings of panic and shame drowning you. You fought back tears, ignoring some of the smokers occupying the same space, who were looking at you with a mixture of confusion and pity. You managed to calm your breathing, and blink back tears, when a figure slowly comes to stand next to you. He doesn't look at you out of courtesy, fixing his gaze straight ahead. "Are you alright?" he asks softly. You nod firmly, trying to seem completely calm. "Eric... sometimes says things without thinking, but I know that's not an excuse. I just want to apologize again, for making you uncomfortable." His voice is gentle and soothing, and you tilt your head to face him, since he was a bit taller.

"It's not your fault, but thanks Sunwoo. And don't worry, parties aren't really my thing, I just came cause my friends were begging me to join them," you chuckle softly, to which Sunwoo gives you a lopsided grin.

"I feel you on that. I'm here to look after my idiot friends."

You share a good laugh, and spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, but conversation comes easy, like you've known each other for years.

You and Sunwoo's paths seem to cross often, apparently because his faculty was right next to yours, and soon your friend groups merge and become one massive group, and you've even forgiven Eric. Days turned into months, casual meetups turned into lunch and movie dates, and soon you and Sunwoo are constantly switching back and forth staying over at each other's apartments.

Ever since you two started dating and you've gotten used to wearing more comfortable clothes around him, you've noticed him staring at your chest every now and then, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic and embarrassed whenever you catch him. You started to tease him, and he would bashfully hide his face and whine cutely. To get back at you, he'd purposely keep his hands cold and hug you out of nowhere, just to hear you squeal, knowing you're ticklish. Sometimes he'd be even bolder, trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts under your shirt, especially when you walk around the house with no bra on. He'd do it when you're cuddling on the couch watching a movie, or worse, when you're trying to study. You didn't mind it usually, since you appreciated the support from his hands since the weight of your breasts takes a toll on your back, and you weren't fond of wearing a bra 24/7. Except the little shit likes to tease, jiggling them around and squeezing them when he's being extra playful, even grazing your nipples with his fingertips; chuckling lowly in your ear when you gasp or squirm in pleasure.

One night in bed, you confront him jokingly. Your period was on its way soon, and your breasts were feeling extra tender and swollen, something you had complained about, so your dear boyfriend very happily obliged, massaging them gently to ease your discomfort. After a while he gets bored, and starts prodding them, round eyes watching intently as they bounce. You can't help but laugh at how adorably fascinated he looks, so you ask him why he's so enamored by your boobs.

"They're just.. fun to play with, yknow? Bouncy and squishy. Can't help myself okay, you're just so perfect," Sunwoo grumbles, blushing again since he got caught.

"Yeah? What if I lose weight and they get smaller? Will you still like me then?" you ask, feeling rather self-conscious, irrational worries that he only likes you for your assets filling your mind. You try to ignore them, knowing your relationship with Sunwoo was much more than superficial, but trauma and bad memories keep causing you to doubt yourself.

"Of course I would!" Sunwoo gasps, reaching up to hold your face urgently but with such a tender gaze in his eyes. "It's still you, and you'll always be perfect, and I love you no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes when he said those words. Few people had treated you with such genuine kindness and you were so grateful to have him as your partner. You squished his cheeks together and pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising him. "I love you too, Sunwoo," you whispered, a small smile on your teary face. A cheeky grin slowly replaces the shock on his face. "Shall I show you just how much I love you?" he drawls, crawling on top of you, making you lay down on the bed. Sunwoo positions you to nestle comfortably against the pillows, helping you take your shirt off afterwards.

Your cheeks start to heat up at Sunwoo's intense gaze raking over your body, and your arms habitually come up to shield your breasts, but he's quick to catch them, gently pulling them away. "Don't be shy. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out," he murmurs, making you blush even harder. He kisses you deeply, before trailing his lips down, pressing light kisses down your neck and across your chest, gently nipping at the skin just above your right nipple. He resumes massaging your breasts, admiring the way your face scrunches up cutely in pleasure, his warm hands on your skin making you sigh happily. He leans down again, tracing a circle around your areola, making you shiver. He teases you a little more, flicking your hardened nub with his tongue before finally latching on and suckling on it, rubbing it periodically with his tongue. His hands are still massaging your breasts, twisting and tugging on your other nipple.

He pulls off with a satisfied 'pop' when you whine, pleased with how raw and puffy your nipple has become, glistening with an abundance of his spit. He dives back down to subject your other nipple to the same treatment, but this time, his free hand creeps down your tummy and between your thighs. You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips, and you can feel his plush lips smirk into your skin, obviously proud of himself. You willingly part your legs, and he dips his middle finger straight into your folds, your juices coating his finger instantly. He raises his head to look at you, eyebrows raised cheekily. "So wet already, babe? Always knew your nipples were so sensitive," he chuckles, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. You shut your eyes, the stimulation of his mouth on your chest and his hand on your pussy clouding your mind. He inserts another finger and pumps you faster while he drags his teeth against your puffy nipple, making you shiver and moan even louder.

He starts leaving hickeys and bites all over your decolletage, looking forward to seeing those pretty marks bloom purple tomorrow morning. Finally, he eases up on his ministrations on your chest, and focused on fucking you hard and fast with his fingers, slamming three digits into your core, gleefully watching the way your breasts jiggle from the impact. He glances up at your face, finding your head tossed back, soft mewls and moans falling from raw, bitten lips. You're clutching the bedsheets in a death grip as Sunwoo starts sucking on your clit as he fingers you. He sucks hard, nudging it with his tongue every so often as he slows down his thrusts, opting to scissor you open and drag his fingertips along your walls, rubbing hard against your g-spot when he finds it, indicated by your shrill yelp. "B-babe, gonna c-cum," you gasp, still writhing in pleasure. "Go on, love, cum for me," he mumbles against your core, and soon you're clenching on his fingers, coating them with your cum, and he continues to fuck you through your climax.

Gasping for air, you wince as he pulls his fingers out, pussy clenching on nothing as you watch him idly put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. He smiles lazily at you, telling you how sweet you taste and even gives you a kiss, making you taste yourself. Your cheeks turn crimson again, and you decide you want to return the favor, having felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh when he leaned down to kiss you. You eye the tent in his jeans, and start unbuckling his belt. He looks at you in alarm, grasping your hands to stop you. "Baby, you don't have to do that, this is about you," he smiles gently. You pout at him. "But I wanna help you too! I have an idea that I always wanted to try with you…" Sunwoo takes a moment to consider, making sure you were genuinely comfortable doing so, and his eyes glimmer with anticipation when he nods in agreement. You beam wordlessly at him, helping him out of his jeans and boxers. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock.

Sunwoo's dick always made you feel good, whether it was fucking your pussy or your throat, but you always wondered what it would feel like sliding between your bountiful breasts. You pull him up to straddle your chest, and his eyes widen when he realizes what you want him to do. "Really?" he gasps, dick twitching with excitement when you readily nod. He chokes on a moan when you swipe your finger up his cock, gathering his dripping precum to slather it between your breasts. He slowly slides his dick into the valley between your breasts as your hands push them together, making it even tighter around him, and he groans lowly. Sunwoo thrusts shallowly, loving the way the smooth skin of your breasts feels around his aching cock. He begins to take over, his larger, warmer hands replacing yours, squishing your tits together as he rocks his hips faster, becoming addicted to the the feeling. It wasn't much physical stimulation for you, but you felt yourself getting hot again watching his face contort in pleasure, his tightening grip on your tender, sensitive breasts rather arousing. You can't look away, mesmerized by how good he looks with his lower lip caught between his teeth, grunting softly as he uses your tits to get himself off.

"You look so hot like this Sunwoo," you murmur, your hand resting on his thigh as he continues to piston his hips. He barks out a breathless laugh, "Have you looked at yourself properly? You're fucking gorgeous, babe, don't you ever forget that. Although, I'm down to remind you all the time." he winks. You smirk at him, and your hands come up to squeeze his muscular ass, the same way he likes to squeeze your boobs. He's got a nice butt, you had to admit, toned and sculpted from years of various sports, and it was your weakness the same way your breasts were his. He moans louder when he feels you groping his ass, hips stuttering as he approaches his climax. He throws his head back as he fucks erratically, squishing your tits even tighter together and you keen at the rough treatment. You coax him in a soft whisper to cum all over your tits, and soon he does, painting your chest white as his hips slow down, and he's gasping for air. A little bit of his cum has spurted onto your lips, but you willingly lick it up and smile up at him, your hands still soothingly rubbing his cheeks as he comes down from his high.

You grab some wet tissues from your bedside drawers and clean up your chest as best as you could, wiping away all the cum before Sunwoo flops next to you, resting his head on your chest the way he usually loves to. You lay there in comfortable silence for a while more, stroking his hair and you feel him smile into your skin, his finger absentmindedly tracing the hickeys he's left across your breasts. Maybe going to that party all those months ago was the best decision you ever made (second only to moving here for college), and maybe you and Sunwoo finally get out of bed to shower, and maybe you go for a second round in the bathroom, filling the steamy air with echoes of wet skin slapping and soft proclamations of 'I love you's.

[one-sad-human]

•Worth It• Duff Mckagan

Pairing: Velvet Revolver era! Duff Mckagan x Younger! Reader

Requested? Nope!

Theme: Little bit of everything/???

Warnings: Language, panic attacks, anxiety references, drug references

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Fic 2 of 2! This is the longest fic yet! Took a different approach to writing this one, hopefully it payed off. Let me know if you guys liked it or if I wasted my time with this one lol.

     You had met Duff in a coffee shop in LA. It was crowded and you were lucky enough to snag a chair before the lunch rush. Duff wasn't, and asked you if he could sit at your table.

     You grew up with Guns n Roses, bought his solo album the day it came out when you were just 15, and now listened to Velvet Revolver faithfully. To see your idol, your celebrity crush stand right in front of you holding a cup of coffee and a scone sent you for a loop.

     "Of course," you had said, starry eyed. You were only hoping he was as kind as the interviews made him out to be. Maybe have a conversation with you and be polite for a while before leaving and never seeing each you again. That would be good enough.

     It didn't end with a coffee, it had just begun. He asked for your number, and you stared at him for a moment thinking you had imagined it. That was until he tilted his head a little and looked at you with a nervous expression. He backtracked and you immediately stopped him.

     "No! I mean— yes! Yes, you can absolutely have my number." You scrambled for a pen and paper and ended up scratching your number on a receipt from the record store. You shook so hard you could barely get the numbers down.

     Out of all the record store receipts you've stuffed into your bag, the one you gave Duff Mckagan had to be the one for when you bought Velvet Revolver's 'Contraband.' He didn't say anything, just smiled and promised to call.

     You honestly didn't think he would've. You played it off as just him trying to be nice. It didn't stop you from answering every call you got for the next three days, however, even if you recognized the number as the tax collector you'd normally never answer.

     But then he called.

     "I tried calling sooner, but I kept calling the wrong number. You don't have the most eligible handwriting," he had told you. You laughed but really, you were in shock.

     You set up a date at the fancy restaurant downtown that always intimidated you. You didn't say anything though, even though you knew you wouldn't want any of the overpriced food and you'd end up eating something you couldn't pronounce and was two portions too small. Maybe even hit up a fast food joint afterwards.

     When the day finally came, you couldn't even figure out what to wear. You couldn't tell if you looked underdressed or like you were trying too hard. Did the clothes even fit the right way? What would Duff think? Would he even care?

     All questions were answered when you left your house. Duff was leaning against his slick car parked in your driveway, a button up that was barely buttoned and dress pants with boots. He stared at you and you wanted a hole in the ground to shallow you up until he smiles.

     "You look gorgeous," he said. You blushed and grinned, thanking him before saying that he looked great too. He drove you to the restaurant and on the way, you talked about music.

     You shared some of your favorites, he adored how well rounded you were. You liked pretty much everything from punk rock to the mellowest of mellow. Duff mentioned some of his favorites, some you made sure to remember the names of so you can check them out.

     When the ride was over and you finally got to the restaurant, your previous fears came back. Duff reassured you looked better than 90% of the people there and you knew it wasn't true but it made you feel better anyway.

     Your eyes widened to the size of saucers when you saw the prices of the food. You knew it'd be pricey but you thought there'd be more options that stayed within two digit numbers.

     Duff saw your panicked expression and said not to worry, he'd pay. It didn't settle your nerves enough and when the waiter came, you ordered the cheapest and simplest thing you could find.

     "Chicken noodle soup?" He teased. You shyly looked down and shrugged. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

     "Not exactly, no."

     "Want me to be completely honest with you?" You nodded. "It's not mine either."

     That's all it took for you and Duff to scramble sheepishly out of the restaurant. You both shared a laugh in the car and went to Burger King. It was much more your speed and, as you'd find out that night, Duff's too. You suppose all the money he's had since such a young age didn't completely change his ways. He was like a kid trapped in a 40 year old man's body.

     You'd thought at first the age gap would feel strange, after all, you were 15 years younger than him. But after that night, it was barely noticeable. Funny looks from strangers every once in a while was nothing.

     By the second date, Duff was already aware fancy spots weren't your forte. He told you it was a surprise and to wear something cozy, as LA nights got chilly.

     He packed a picnic basket and drove you out to the most beautiful flower field you had ever seen at sunset. It was secluded and high up, giving a perfect view of the city skyline. After gawking and taking in the sights for a few moments, you regained your ability to speak.

     "It's gorgeous. Pretty far from the city, did you take me here to kill me?" You joked. He laughed and rolled his eyes. His lighthearted laugh sent sparks straight to your heart, and you decided that it was your favorite sound.

     You unfolded the blanket Duff brought and you both sat down. You ate the sandwiches and sliced fruit Duff packed and talked. You talked about everything, from your family to fears and insecurities.

You told him how you suffer from nightmares. Flashbacks from your broken childhood coming back to bite you in your sleep. Duff shared how he's suffered from panic attacks since he was a teenager. You felt you knew each other for years.

Neither of you felt weird for sharing and neither made the other insecure. You were completely open and honest with each other. It was strange, you've never connected to quickly and effortlessly with someone before. Sure, you've had men in your life, but never had you clicked with someone so fast, never had you fit with someone so perfectly.

Hours passed and it felt like minutes. Only did you realize how late and how exhausted you were when you saw most of the city buildings light have gone off for the night. The city that didn't sleep was dark.

"I should get you home," Duff said to you.

"Will you stay the night?" You felt a little silly for asking. Were things going too fast? Would he even want to stay over?

He agreed, and that's how your first night together went. You both stayed up even later and had more lighthearted conversations, unlike the ones that partook at the field. Like how one of Duff's first jobs was at a bakery and could bake a mean cake and how you can't cook to save your life.

You ended up waking up without remembering falling asleep. You're head was placed comfortably on Duff's lap while his head was lolled back against the couch cushion. He looked so serene and peaceful you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You made toast and somewhat successfully cooked some eggs and bacon. It might have been the first breakfast in years that didn't end with the smoke alarm going off.

Duff eventually wandered into the kitchen and you both ate. By the time he left, another date was already set up. He was like a drug an you were already hooked.

Months later and the addiction still wasn't kicked. You didn't want to, and Duff didn't seem to want you to quit either. You both soaked each other up like the sun on a warm day.

You had almost weekly dates and you stayed over each other's houses almost every other day. Duff did have his kids some days, though, so some days dates were cut short or Grace and Mae slept over his house and you wouldn't see each other.

You were always understanding, his kids came first and you'd never blame or get upset about it. It's something Duff admires about you, your never ending understanding and empathy for him.

One of those days where Duff stayed over at your house started normal. He cooked dinner and you washed the dishes, and then you put on an old Ramones concert you had on DVD.

You were laying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair when all of a sudden, he tensed up. He quickly stood and excused himself to the bathroom. You frowned but before you could think much of it, you heard a loud bang and something clatter to the ground.

You jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. You swung open the door because you were perfectly aware the lock hasn't worked since you moved in.

Duff was sitting on the floor, a pill bottle laying on its side not far from him. You quickly spot the name of the medication and identified it as your anti-anxiety pills. You shoved them aside and sat next to Duff.

He was sweating bullets and his skin felt cold and clammy, his breaths were labored and heartbeat was loud and pounding erratically. You coax him gently to take deep breaths, holding onto his hand tightly and talking quietly.

"I'm sorry, they come on randomly sometimes," he apologized after he'd called down, but you quickly shushed him. You reminded him of just how many nightmares he'd comforted you for and he stops feeling so bad about it.

     It was always a true partnership with Duff. Never had you felt you gave or took too much, it was always equal. Always a two way street, with everything.

That wasn't the last panic attack you had to help him come down from. Later down the line you've gotten better at calming him down and learning his triggers, even though sometimes they really do come on suddenly without reason.

A year into the relationship was when you met Grace and Mae. They were young and didn't completely understand why their parents weren't together anymore, so it took them a while to warm up to you. Luckily, they eventually came around.

Duff and Susan met up regularly to discuss their kids and co-parent properly. And while you had all the reason to be jealous of your boyfriend with his ex wife, you never did. You had complete confidence in him, he was honest and loyal and you doubted he'd ever hurt you purposely.

That's why it destroyed you when he left you. Tears were shed from both parties as he gave his reasons for breaking up with you. His insecurities he tried his best to bury had come to light and nothing could change his mind.

You thought you were completely honest with each other, but you suppose his doubt in his relationship with you was the one thing he kept secret. He had somehow convinced himself you'd be better without him, between the constant touring and the baggage that came with him and his kids, he finally buckled under the weight and stress.

You had tried to convince him that he was worth it, but if Duff is one thing it's stubborn. The best relationship you'd ever have and the best year of your life went down the drain within the matter of one conversation.

You were down in the dumps for days. You barely left your bed and didn't ever leave your house. You were in a depression and couldn't get out. A few of your friends eventually found out what had happened and broke into your house and shoved you into the shower before taking you to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You felt like a disaster. Your hair was ratted despite the shower and you refused to put real clothes on, instead wearing sweatpants and a shirt Duff had left behind. You were a mess.

The hole in the wall restaurant was never busy but always had the best food. You were almost happy your friends dragged you out of your home until you saw Duff sitting at a table, eating egg rolls and lo mein.

You've came here together all the time. The high sodium in the food always made him sick to his stomach and you'd always end up giving him nausea remedies and tea. He never changed his order though.

You locked eyes with him for a while. Dark bags were under his eyes and he looked more pale than usual. He looked as terrible as you felt. You weren't sure if you were spitefully glad he felt awful or if the despair on his face just made your heart break further.

When you couldn't take his intense jade stare anymore, you looked up at the menu. The next time you looked back he was gone, you weren't sure if he was really there at all or if you were finally losing your mind for good.

     Another week crawled by. You got better enough to continue working. You had to pick up extra time for calling out for a few days after the breakup. You wouldn't say things were going well, but you weren't crying in bed every day all day anymore.

     You had constant dreams about him. Some were nice, ones where he didn't leave and you were together, holding each other tightly. Most were nightmares, flashbacks of when he left. You didn't have him to comfort you anymore when you woke up soaked in sweat and tears, and that might've been the worst.

     Another week went by, and you were starting to get back into the swing of things. You still thought about him, even silly little things reminded you of him. Like when you would catch a sniff of freshly baked sweets like he'd bake you or certain songs playing on the radio. It also didn't help that you ran into people wearing Guns n Roses shirts on the daily.

     You also refused to get rid of anything he'd left behind. Tee shirts, guitar picks he left from when he'd play for you, or CDs from bands he introduced you to. Reminders of what you lost were scattered around your home but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

     Suddenly, it's been a month. You weren't over him, but you had a feeling you'd never be completely. He was something special, you can't forget things as special as your relationship with Duff.

     His items still weren't thrown out or returned, instead all packed in a box sitting in your closet. But you'd be lying if you said you would never reach into the box to grab a shirt to sleep in or a CD to listen to when you needed a reminder of the good times. You were making progress though.

     You decided to leave your house one evening. You were feeling especially terrible and wanted to take a walk to clear your head. You went to the coffee shop you had first met Duff in. Maybe it was a mistake to go and get a flood of memories but you couldn't stop yourself.

     You sat in a seat near the window and people watched, taking occasional sips of your drink. It was quiet except from the talk of the workers and the hum of the overhead speakers.

     There was a sudden squeak of a chair of hardwood floors and it broke you out of your daze. You snapped your gaze up to meet the very familiar green eyes you've been trying to forget.

     "Can we talk?" He asked, and you couldn't say 'no.' Duff sat across from you and started off by apologizing.

     He said he wanted to talk to you sooner, but was too afraid you wouldn't want anything to do with him. You rolled your eyes at that, if only he knew just how much you missed him.

     He then started from the beginning and explained why he made the decision to leave you. As it turns out, it was mostly because of stress. His bandmate Scott was having problems with drugs and the flashbacks from his GnR days frightened him. He was worried he would end up relapsing and he didn't want to drag you down with him.

     Combine that with all the troubles that came with dating a single father, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt too guilty.

     It all seemed like ridiculous reasons to you. Even if he had made the mistake of falling off the wagon, you still would've stuck with him. And you didn't mind his kids at all, after nearly a year of knowing them and you were very close to them.

     "I love you, Duff. I wouldn't have left you over that, I'd help you through anything. And I love Grace and Mae, too," you told him.

     "I know, but I didn't want you to have to deal with all that baggage." You frowned at that. You reached your hand across the table and grasped his, squeezing it tenderly.

     "You're worth it."

     After that day, you and Duff started seeing each other again. It wasn't the same as before, but maybe even better.

     You were more transparent with each other. If one had a worry or problem, you'd go to the other. You talked everything through with him and he did the same. Even if it seemed insignificant, talking everything through never failed to make it better.

    You were happier and healthier than ever before. Sure, there were a roadblock or two, but they only made the relationship even stronger, and you wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

[jobean12-blog]

hello my love!!! I wondered if I could request something sexy and fun!! I was thinking of reader and Bucky being in a new relationship, they haven't had sex yet and he invites her to sleep over at the compound one night. Reader has like a boob sore so she can't wear a bra and sleeps in her tank top. morning after, Bucky wakes up first and sees her boob has fallen out of her top, he was trying to remain a gentleman but after seeing that he wants her? Hehe i love you and thank you for everything❤️

Morning Glory

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,412

Summary: Spending the night at Bucky’s for the first time has you very excited and a morning surprise really moves the relationship along...

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting this love! I had fun writing it and hope it makes you happy! This is real life and happens to me all the time, even when I wear those CK bralette thingies. Never fails. Now if Bucky was in my bed....well. haha! Love you! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, light teasing and flirting, lots of kissing, Steve and Sam being themselves, implied sexy times :) 

Standing in your apartment you stare at your empty overnight bag, cursing your indecision. Bucky invited you to spend the night at his place, aka the Avengers compound, and you have no idea what to pack to wear for the night or bedtime or the next morning! You don’t normally sleep in a bra and you don’t want to just because you’re staying at his place. Rifling through your pajama drawer you find a cute blue tank top with matching boy shorts, deciding it works fine and will be comfy.

Stuffing it in the bag you search around for your toiletries, double checking you have everything you need before leaving. Bucky meets you outside and greets you with a searing kiss. It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards and you’re wondering how you’ll be able to control yourself when you share a bed tonight.

Bucky has been a gentleman from the moment you met and ever since you first starting dating, which wasn’t too long ago. It’s the first time you’ll be spending the whole night together and you’re feeling both excited and nervous. Of course, as soon as you’re in his presence you feel completely comfortable and happy.

The early part of your evening is spent cooking dinner together, Bucky suggesting you try to make a pizza. “Bucky, I’m not sure I can do the whole throw the dough in the air thing,” you say, staring down at the yeasty mixture. “Me neither but I’m gonna give it a try!” You giggle and step back watching as Bucky tries to pick up the sticky dough.

Once he has it in his hands, he gives you an apprehensive look before saying, “here goes nothin’!” He tries to throw it but fails when he doesn’t put enough force behind it. “Ok, here we really go,” he laughs. Bending his knees, he releases the dough. It flies just above his head, hovering for a split second before landing back on his hands and ripping.

Bucky stands in shocked silence and your hand flies over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He finally looks your way, his lips turning up into a smirk, “something you find funny, doll?” You can’t hold back any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles and pointing at him. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face!”

Bucky tries to wipe off his hands as best he can before he stalks over to you, caging you against the island with his arms. Your breath hitches at the closeness of his body and your hands instinctively reach out to smooth down his chest. “I wish I got that on camera,” you say, continuing to tease him, “and I think you have some dough in your hair.”

He leans his face close to yours, brushing the hair from your cheek, “hmmmm, I bet you do.” When his mouth meets yours you completely melt against him, a sigh falling from your lips as he parts them with his tongue. Running his thumb across your jaw he cradles your face in his hand, deepening the kiss just as a throat clears loudly behind you.

Bucky hesitantly pulls away, his eyes soft on you but then thunderous when they stare over your shoulder. “Rogers. You better have a good reason for interrupting us.” Steve raises his brows and chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Captain America way. “Hi y/n. Nice to see you again.” You give Steve a shy wave, “hi Steve, you too.”

“Actually, this time I do. I smelled something burning and figured I should check it out before the compound gets a shower.” Both you and Bucky spin to face the oven, the slight wisps of smoke starting to leak out the sides. “Oh shit,” Bucky shouts, quickly turning the oven off and alerting Friday that they have it under control. “THE COOKIES!” you yell in horror! “I can’t believe we forgot about them!”

Steve laughs first and you and Bucky can’t help but follow suit. “Well, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other throats you might have remembered,” Steve scolds before laughing again and walking off. “Ugh, I’m gonna kick him in his righteous ass,” Bucky mumbles.

Turning to you, he gathers you in his arms and says, “now, where were we,” pressing his lips to yours once again. You gently pull away just to ask, “what about dinner? And more importantly! Dessert!?” His nose scrunches as he smiles wide, “let’s just order a pizza and steal Sam’s Oreos. Yea?” You simply nod, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I heard you two were starting a fire in here!” Sam chimes from the doorway. Bucky groans, grabbing your hand and walking down the hallway without a word. “Hi y/n!” Sam says as he gives you his best smile. “Hey Sam! Good to see you!” you call out just before disappearing around the corner.

Bucky huffs as he shuts the door. “They can be such a pain in the ass sometimes!” You laugh and pull your phone from your pocket. “I’ll order the pizza; you snag the cookies and then we’ll have the rest of the night uninterrupted.” Bucky practically skips out the door when you start dialing for the pizza and only moments later you hear Sam yelling, “where the hell are you going with my Oreos?!?!”

Dinner is perfect and after eating a whole sleeve of Oreos dipped in milk you and Bucky settle in on the couch to watch a movie. Not even halfway through Bucky has you pinned to the couch, his lips devouring yours as his hands wander over your dips and curves. You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, breathing heavily when he speaks. “I want you so badly, but I want to do this the right way, you know.”

You’re barely able to manage the nod of your head, all your brain power gone with his strong body above you and his hands on your skin. You want to tell him you don’t care that you really like him and you’re ready to take the next step. But you don’t want to push him either, so you remain silent. He pulls you into his side, holding you close while you finish the movie.

It’s almost midnight and you stifle a yawn, snuggling closer into Bucky. “You ready for bed, doll?” You smile up at him, “yes, I think so.” You go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When you come out you watch as Bucky takes in your appearance, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark. “You’re not making this easy you know.” He plants a sweet kiss to your lips before he goes to change.

You get in bed and burrow under the covers, loving that you’re surrounded by his smell. He gets in soon after, pulling you against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m really glad you’re here baby girl. I love having you in my bed.” Throwing your leg over his you mumble into his chest, “me too, Buck.”

Morning arrives and you slowly wake up, the warmth of Bucky’s body still close as you stretch and yawn. You feel a slight chill at your chest, moving to pull the blanket further up your body but stopping short when you brush bare skin. Cracking open your eyes you look down and to your surprise see that your tank top did little to hold things in place while you were sleeping.

Bucky’s sharp intake of breath catches your attention and you look over to find him staring. “Morning beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Hi,” you say quietly, smirking at how hot and bothered he looks. “Sorry, I don’t usually wear a bra to sleep.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring and you can see his internal struggle.

You slowly get up, fixing your shirt and running your hand over the hardness that is evident under his boxers. “Meet me in the shower in 2?” you ask sweetly, lightly brushing your lips to his. He practically falls out of the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he stumbles forward. “Fuck yes, doll. I can’t wait.”  You saunter to the bathroom, knowing full well half your ass cheek is hanging out of your boy shorts. Bucky’s low growl carries across the room, your smile triumphant just as you turn on the shower.  

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @jewels2876 @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork  @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

[nobito203]

Hello,

How are you today?? It's your birthday, isn't it?? Hope you're having a great day filled with best wishes from everybody. I want to write something, and since I'm pretty good with words, so why not this occasion and why not about you?? Shall we??

We met summer 2019, crazy huh?? It's been 3 years since that day. It also was the last time we met physically. So many things have changed since. We're all busy. Still, it's nice to check in sometimes, to know we are still in existence 🤪🤪. Thanks the social media platforms for that. It's been a while since the last time we checked in. As you may have known or not, I'm pretty nostalgic, so I decided to take a trip down memory lane.

Let's see, it's silly to not mention I had crush on your 3 years ago when talking about our relationship. It's dumb to look forward to the future without knowing what happened in the past, right?? That was wild. I never felt about someone the way I felt about you. All of my closest friends knew about it. Your mysterious charm captivated my curiously young self. As far as I know, you’re very reserved, independent, and emotionally intelligent. People normally take personality for granted. In some cases, it takes a great deal of time for people to realize each personality tells a peerless story. You were more open as we continued talking, which I personally still think you don’t do that often to someone you just met. You said you have problem with trust, generally; thus, it takes time for you to open up with someone. Indeed, "good things take time". I found that very attractive. Trust needs to be earned. Reading wise, you showed me "The Suicide Shop" - still the best dark humor novel I've ever read. That book had taught me keep embracing to what I value, and things will get into places although what I value might not fall into what the majority values. You said you like jazz music and listen to a lot of Niki. Such a classic vibe. Those small things were what made you special.

Telling you my feeling took a toll on our relationship. Things got awkward afterwards but I think it was very normal and understandable. I believe it was supposed to be like that. Time went by, I broke the awkwardness between us because I didn't want us get into a predicament, which I was very proud of myself handling that. I'm glad we reconciled and continued chatting once in a while. Hope you feel the same? Honestly, I don't regret it. That was one the best summers in my life. I will always remember it. Life is too short to hold back the feeling we have for someone we're attracted to. Plus, we were young, so why not go wild while we can. I still find it very fun and memorable whenever I think about that time.

3 years later, we don't talk as much as we're used to be 3 years ago. But what can I say?? Out of sight, out of mind works in pretty much every circumstance. Still, I'm happy we are still keep in touch. Always hope to have more chances to talk to you, but it doesn't seem ideal at the moment. Gotta be practical haha 😂😂. Does it get easier to trust someone yet?? We have different lives (of course) and there are different things are craving our attention. I strongly believe things in life happen for a reason. Let it be.

Today is your birthday, I wish you health and wealth (including tăng lương), be surrounded by people you love and love you. Life in NYC must be really fun I reckon, tho it could be stressful sometimes. I hope life will bestow upon you everything you deserve. I want this writing can be a nice touch for your birthday. I'm very grateful we met and became friends. I appreciate you spent some times to chat, I appreciate you used to be someone special to me. Tho we don't talk much anymore, I hope these words serve as a reminder that you are a very special person to yourself, not only today, but everyday. Stay special and slay it. Feeling special is a way of living. I can't wait to see what you gonna achieve next.

Feliz cumpleaños 🎂🎂

May 2022

A friend of yours:

- No Name

P/S: Are you still "bay là là" everyday??

[gingus-doon]

pov u just shot your childhood hero, wdyd

i.e. i ramble about keiji post-shooting; his occupation, what he does, how he copes, how he feels, etc. etc.

just putting this little thing here because the post got quite long and i couldn't split it up because it's all somewhat related. it started out as a rant / informal ramble but then it got serious lololol

—

one thing i don't understand is why people hc keiji as still having a job with the police post-shooting? like that just doesn't make sense to me– not only based on his character but like... why would you wanna make him a cop with all the talk of how much the police suck lately? personally i'm a brown bitch so i couldn't be down with thirsting over a cop lol. it's just kinda confusing sjdhd

i've seen the hc of him as a private investigator, though, which i like! it's a very neat way to let him flex his detective skills without being part of a corrupt organization and without forsaking his own personal beliefs and feelings about the police, because i don't think those would change anywhere near easily and i just kinda can't see him going back into the police force because of that.

i have often wondered what keiji would do after the death game, and what he was doing before the death game or after the shooting, because i think he'd definitely quit after the shooting, with all the grief and trauma surrounding the job and his newfound cynicism.

i don't think he'd be doing private investigation before the game, or more specifically, before his character develops into something reminiscent of his old self– as he is at the start of the game, he just doesn't have that faith in protection, so i can't imagine him being an investigator at that point. HOWEVER, in a post death game OR non-death game au where keiji has started to pull himself up from that tar (most likely with the help of others lol) i think that's definitely a plausible option for him and i like it a lot :]

as for other options, though... i really don't know! this is more of a stupid idea but i considered him working in a convenience store like shin lol. i had a whoooole au about him, kai, and shin working in the same convenience store just because they can't hold down any other jobs / don't know what else to do for work. shin is able to actually hold down the job because the last manager was mysteriously taken out of commission (i don't know lol) and they were ridiculously short-staffed already so shin ended up being the "most qualified" for the now vacant position. keiji's had a string of odd jobs since the police and this is just the next one. he's hoping to find something with a better wage but this'll do for now, it's even in walking distance from his apartment. and kai, kai's trying to exercise more independence from the chidouins' after becoming his own person! so he gets what i think would be his first job (well, his first official job, anyway... being an assassin and the chidouins' personal maid were more unofficial gigs lol.) ahh that was a lotta rambling about my dumb little au but i just think it'd be neat, they're three of my favourite characters so having them just vibe with each other at work and become friends sounds nice 2 me :] also Coincidentally i ship literally every combination of those three characters so that may have played a part in my casting decisions lmfao

oh wow that was a really long and uncalled for synopsis but this is just a rambly post so it can't really be uncalled for because this post doesn't have any particular point lol (A/N after writing this— IT HAS A POINT NOW, DISREGARD PAST ME)

SO ANYWAY ! i was just considering what keiji would do right after the shooting. honestly i have noooo idea, it's the beginning of a long road of him burying his trauma in a desperate attempt to avoid facing the pain it brings, and it marks a profound loss of innocence which makes his heart begin to grow cold. it's just hard to see the beginning of the process when where he started and where he ended up are very different places.

obviously, he'd quit his job. i wonder if the hallucinations would start right away? him being naïve in the beginning, i'm sure he'd acknowledge them– cry out apologies and plead for forgiveness until his throat is hoarse. the rule of hallucinations in yttd seems to be that if you acknowledge them, they'll burn themselves into your brain and you'll never be rid of them– implying that keiji has done so, as it's likely been years since the shooting and he's still suffering from the visions despite seeming to ignore them now.

ahh, i'm getting in my feelings about keiji now 😭😭 when i started this, i wanted to be held by him, but now i just wanna hug him like damnnnn

but back to what he'd do after the shooting– this scenario is self indulgent, but wouldn't it be nice if he took some time off and just stayed at his mom's place for a while? help her with chores while she's at work, try to regain a sense of normalcy in his childhood home...

i don't think he'd be able to do this right after the shooting. keiji had shame, once upon a time– the guilt would rack him like nothing else. i can imagine him spending a lot of late nights with alcohol, just wishing it was a dream. his resentment towards megumi slowly building as he feels he's being left in the dark as to why, why he isn't allowed to atone, why she's being so cold towards him about the shooting when he's suffering so heavily from the effects of it.

he wouldn't want to be around his dear mom as a murderer, and as a resentful alcoholic who's coping very poorly with his circumstances.

also (tangent incoming), i kind of wonder about keiji and alcohol a lot. in his fondness events with mishima, he says the following—

the "haven't drank that much in years" part makes me wonder– for how long? did he start to restrain himself before the shooting or after? i would say it's most likely after, considering the "feels like it'll swallow me up" comment he made soon after. and, how he talked about binge drinking when he was still a newbie. perhaps it was fine for him to do so, before the shooting— he'd just get wasted and flirt, have a good time. but after, it morphed into an inefficient coping mechanism which he fell far within the depths of to try and control the worst of his grief and self hatred. after that, heavy drinking couldn't just be for fun anymore.

i assume in the "before it got this way" comment, the "way" he's referring to is how he doesn't drink much anymore? or, he could be talking about the depression drinking, but i think the prior makes more sense.

even though i think, given keiji's example of drinking with megumi, that he could have gotten blackout drunk a couple of times purely for fun pre-shooting, i think here he's referring to the painful side of his relationship with alcohol here, the part that took place when he was trying to cope with his trauma. i think he brings up the story of drinking with megumi immediately after, then, to avoid talking about that part of his past. though he doesn't show it much, i think he's deeply ashamed of himself. not only of what he's done, but how he's handled it afterwards.

on a lighter note, though, it's quite funny to think of Lawful Good young keiji shinogi getting drunk off his ass and flirting with every woman he comes across willing to flirt back. like, what's up with that??? he seems like such a serious dork in the flashbacks, but doing well in his police job, he just... lets loose?? no no, honestly i think he hadn't drank much before going out with megumi and he took her insistence on him drinking a little too far, and with his inexperience with alcohol and the successive lack of self restraint that comes with each new drink, you get casanova shinogi, lmao.

BACK TO THE SERIOUS STUFF THOUGH !! i really like the idea of him going to his mom to help him pull himself back together. i think they'd have a solid relationship, fight me! he seems to adore his mom as a child with a good single parent usually does. i'm sure he appreciates her immensely for all the care and love she managed to give him when he was a kid while also working her ass off to support them financially. this very respect for her is what i think would drive him to isolate himself from her after the shooting– as i said above, he's a murderer now. a disappointing human being in general, and an even worse son. to let down his mother who worked so hard to raise him right... how could he? as his condition worsens and his heart grows colder, i'm sure that feeling would fester inside of him. he'd try to ignore it, as he does with everything else, but it's already wrapped its tendrils around his soul. that particular guilt isn't leaving him any time soon.

now that i'm thinking about it, also, i don't think it's likely that he'd quit his job right right away. it'd be more of a slow descent over the span of a few weeks. immediately after the shooting, he may stop showing up to work for a while. he just can't put on that uniform when it's practically caked in the blood of someone he held in such high esteem for so long. eventually, though, he gets a hold on himself– just a bit. he doesn't want to be cooped up in his apartment with his thoughts anymore, and he doesn't want to lose his job. what else would he do?

so, he takes it easy on the first few days back. megumi tries to make it easy for him. paperwork, whatever job he could do that's not on the field. he clings to her like a wounded puppy, hoping that she'll explain why she's covering it up when he doesn't want her to, what he's supposed to do with these feelings around the incident. he's drowning, and she's made herself a big sister figure to him– she's supposed to help him. but, she shrugs him off when he brings it up. she's so harsh about it compared to how she usually speaks to him. perhaps because of her own guilt around the incident, perhaps it's the family's response and how keiji is now, how panicked and sleep deprived the poor kid has looked since that day.

so he continues to spiral with nothing to hold on to. grasps at alcohol in a futile attempt to stop falling, because it's all he can think to fall back on. he's a wreck at work– he's barely living, much less working. but megumi tries her best to keep him from getting fired. she'll get him coffee and breakfast and try to say something encouraging. "hey. hang in there, shinogi." with a touch on the shoulder. but in spite of her efforts, of course, it hits a breaking point. everyone in the job thinks keiji's too damaged to continue, saying he either needs to see a shrink or get the hell out of the way and let everyone else do their job.

and keiji just stops coming into work one day.

the downward spiral ensues.

[shadowgamerhalo]

Hello! May I please have a creepypasta romantic match-up and or a little scenario to go with it? (But only write what your up for) Tysm in advance! Anyways I hope you have a great day/night and tysm once again!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight) I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines. For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back.

I have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it. Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything.

Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

I pair you with the part tsundere Bloody Painter!

Helen doesn't fall easily. So your relationship was probably a bit rocky, with first impression, since Helen and you have that same problem. This though, did start the conversation which led to your relationship, so it was actually was good in the end!

In general Helen has a quiet exterior, though once you got to know each other, you can actually see why he hangs around Puppet. Cause this man, has one wicked sense of humor. As soon as you show your more goofy, sacrasm side. Helen is showing how devious he is. You'll likely see it first with your fear of spiders. Expect a bit of teasing, cause he will smirk at you, before he squishes it, and then proceed to tease you a bit.

He's definitely the kind of person to trick someone into doing something stupid, for his amusement. So he will make no exception of not pulling that on you. Though he will probably make sure you're okay in the end, just cause he loves you. The kind of person to deny it, but really you can tell. Cause for you, he's easier to read. If you stick up for friends, then expect him right behind you making the most threatening aura possible to the person you're fighting. Which means you'll win most of your fights, without having to throw a punch.

Your anxiety and self destructive tendencies, will likely have you seeing a very gentle and soft side to Helen, much quicker than you would think. He also has trouble explaining his emotions, though he will become good at reading yours. Likely you will become good at reading his, so it'll be a balance. Granted, Helen is stubborn too, though in a different way as he's also patient. He will stick with you once he's attached, no matter what.

You sounded southern with some words, actually makes Helen giggle and he will tease you for it. Though once you're around him long enough, you'll realize that he has that. Such as him sounding more cockney, such as whenever he tries to pronounce meter, and so on and so forth. Plus a bonus if you hear him say shit. I suggest recording that, to tease him back as revenge >;)

Helen surprisely smokes, not a lot but you can tell when he does. So you'll probably smell it in his clothes. Which means if you steal them, that means you'll get a flustered Helen, who probably will initiate cuddles afterwards. Cause he's not the tallest in the manor, being at 5'8, but you'll still be smol to him, which he adores. He won't mock you for your height, though he might pick you up like a cat. He also likes your hair, cause he can style it for drawings of you, and he likes running his fingers through your hair while cuddling.

Speaking of drawing, expect to be draw a lot. Like even when you're not too aware of it, Helen will probably be drawing you absent-mindly. If you're swimming, probably will be drawing you doing it. Helen will show you his art, as you've become his muse. No worries, not the blood paintings. He might even give you ones with things you like, like a cloudy day one.

You can introduce him to your music, and he'll likely listen to it with you while he draws or paints. Also, you'll have to remind him to eat sometimes especially when he's in creative mode, so practice for cooking. Also if you give him some shepherd's pie, he will shower you with affection.

This one took a while, as I tried my best to find on that fit. I hope this to your liking, I did my best. If you want a scenario based off of this then, I'm happy to provide. This goes for all who ask for match-ups.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hi! I'm new to this and I don't know if I'm doing this right... Could you write a story about ghost James (not really come back as a ghost in wizard way but more like a ghost in muggle stories, the kind that no one can see and can't really do anything) watching (and maybe staying with) Sirius through the years and finally reunite with him behind the veil? And they live happily ever after in the other side?Thank you!

James hated it when Sirius was sad. It was his number one least favourite thing in the world. It was horrible to see. James was pretty sure that it started to rain specifically because Sirius was in a bad mood, sometimes. His proof of that was that it had never been sunny when Sirius was sad, and that was good enough for him. When Sirius was sad, it's like the whole planet sagged to join him in grief. He'd said that to Remus once, and Remus had replied that James couldn't possibly be more in love if he tried; James was pretty sure that his response to that had been that everyone could stand to be more in love with Sirius. 

Point is, Sirius was sad, and it was James's fault. He couldn't make it better, and that was almost worse. There had been times, during first their friendship then their romantic relationship, that he'd made Sirius sad. Some stupid fight or other, and he would make Sirius cry because Sirius hated when they fought. He'd made Sirius sad before, but he'd never been incapable of comforting him afterwards. 

He was dead. Sirius couldn't hear him or feel him. It didn't matter what James did, because as far as Sirius was concerned, nothing at all was happening. James could scream in his ear, and Sirius would hear nothing but waves and the distant echoes of the other prisoners. He knew this for a fact; he'd tried. Just in case. No one knew about the kind of ghost that he was, and he wasn't going to let Sirius be miserable just because he hadn't thought to try. 

It had taken him a minute to understand what had happened when he appeared by Sirius's side. The details around his death were a bit fuzzy. He couldn't really remember what had happened, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. From the absolutely haunted expression on Sirius's face, it didn't seem like something he'd appreciate remembering. 

It took James less than two days to figure out that nothing he did would get through to Sirius. Instead of constantly pestering him, he decided to do things that would make Sirius feel better. He talked. Shared stories even though they were all stories he'd heard before or had been there for. 

After a couple weeks, James figured out how to make himself basically solid. It didn't help Sirius it all, but it made James feel better. He could lean his head against Sirius's shoulder without falling straight through him. 

On the one hand, it was nice to be able to see Sirius even though he was dead. Spend time with him. On the other hand, he was pretty sure this was a version of hell. What had he done to get placed next to the person he loved most, but completely unable to communicate with him? He didn't know how he really felt about it. Twelve years of thinking about it, and he still didn't know. 

*

James talked to hear his own voice. It's not like Sirius could hear him and feel better to know that he wasn't entirely alone. 

Sometimes he felt like Sirius could hear him. Not as he was-- standing beside him-- but like a whisper to his conscience. An errant thought in his head that took purchase. It was wishful thinking, James knew that, but it made his existence feel important. Sirius didn't lay flat to stretch his legs because James said he should; he did it because he'd been curled up in a ball for so long that he was uncomfortable. 

It still made James feel better. 

*

"Er, Sirius? Is it just me, or does that look like Peter?" James asked, tilting his head to get a better look at the photo in the Prophet. Fudge wasn't holding it at the best angle for Sirius, but Sirius was smart; he saw it. He asked for the paper, and Fudge handed it right over. 

James grinned at Sirius. "That's my Padfoot. Let's get out of this hellhole. It was putting you in a worse mood than normal." Not that there was any good measure for that. It had been so long since Sirius had been in a normal place that James only had memories for what it was like to see him smile. When the minister visited, the Dementors had to stay back a certain amount; it's why Sirius made conversation instead of telling him to bugger off, but it didn't exactly make him happy. He was just... less miserable. 

*

If anyone could see James right now, they'd probably say that since he wasn't happy with what he was doing, he should stop. That was a load of bullocks. He was dead, what did it matter if he wasn't completely happy? His happiness was a non-issue. He had an entire afterlife that he could enjoy when Sirius was around to enjoy it with him. For now, it was more important to him that he keep an eye on Sirius. Even if he couldn't effect the world around him at all, he liked knowing what was going on. 

There was a paralyzing fear in the back of his mind that if he left now, he'd never be able to find Sirius again.

*

"No no no," James said frantically, staring at where Peter transformed and ran away. He tried tugging on Sirius's arm, but obviously he couldn't feel it. "Sirius, he's getting away!" 

But Sirius was more focused on making sure that Moony was okay and that the kids weren't going to get hurt-- or killed-- to worry about the way his own future was going. 

It had run away. Peter was slippery. It was a miracle that they'd found him the first time, and James was certain that they wouldn't be able to find him a second time. In another life, James would be able to feel something like sympathy for him. In this life-- his afterlife, Sirius's first still-- he couldn't manage it. James had been beside Sirius for nearly every second of Azkaban, and there was no forgiving someone who put you in there. 

Peter vanished, less than a speck in a dark night on a black ground, and James wanted to scream. So he did. 

*

"This cave is depressing. I feel like you could find a better hiding spot." 

Sirius glanced towards where the castle was, and James nodded. 

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be this close to Harry anywhere else. I still think it's pretty damn risky. You should be on the beach. Soaking up the sun after so many years in Azkaban. I swear, that place is better classified as a dungeon. You could lay on the sand. Get some shades. Listen to your bloody muggle music and just breathe for once." 

Sirius wrung his hands in the way that meant he was thinking about Harry. Worrying about him. Even if he went to the beach, he wouldn't be able to relax. He'd be there, wondering how Harry was doing. Wishing he could take him away but unable to do so. Sirius could make his way on his own in large part because he could turn into Padfoot, but Harry couldn't do that. A boy with a dog drew more attention than just a dog, not to mention that no one would just let Harry go missing. 

*

Lily showed up once. James just about jumped out of his skin when she appeared on Sirius's other side at the long dining table in Grimmauld Place. "So this is where Sirius grew up," she mused, looking around at the décor. "Sort of explains why he was such a pretentious git when we were kids." 

James stared at her for a long moment. "How are you here?" 

"I don't really know," she said, frowning. "I thought about you, wondering where you were and." She held up her hands in a ta-da sort of way. "I should've guessed it was with Sirius." 

"Are you going to stay?" he asked. 

"I don't think I can. I'm here to visit. I visited Harry for a while, but I got... kicked away after a couple days. It's the longest I can stay before I have to take a break. I have no idea how you've managed to do this for the entire time." 

"I haven't done anything," James argued. "I just woke up next to Sirius and never left." 

"You woke up next to him?" Lily asked, eyebrows raised. 

"Appeared next to him, whatever." 

"No, that's not what I- Merlin, James. I always knew that you and Sirius were strangely close; I just didn't realise... well. Never mind. How's it been?" she asked, turning her attention to the man sat between them that couldn't hear a single word that was being said. 

"Rough. He was in Azkaban for a murder he didn't commit, and now he's a fugitive because he broke out." 

"He broke out? Of Azkaban? How the bloody hell did he do that?" 

"That's a Marauder trade secret, Lils. Can't tell." 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're so full of shite." 

"Yep." 

She glanced at Sirius again, and her expression softened to something sympathetic. "It's been that bad?" 

"Yeah." James sighed, patting Sirius on the shoulder even though he couldn't feel it. "Yeah, it's been... not good." 

*

Sirius got hit with a spell, and he was falling, and James knew that it wouldn't do any good but still tried to catch him. 

Only it worked. Sirius landed in his arms, a heavy, warm weight. Sirius was as surprised by it as James. He tilted his head up and broke into a gut-wrenching smile. Equal parts sad and hopeful. "James?" 

James mirrored the expression. He'd wanted Sirius. Not like this, though. Sirius was supposed to get his name cleared and live with Harry. He was supposed to have another seventy years alive so that he could remember what it was like to not be caged up. He wasn't supposed to meet James this soon. James even knew how he wanted for it to happen. Sirius was supposed to be free and happy, and then James would move on; Sirius wouldn't need him watching anymore because he'd be fine, and he could catch up with Lily-- see if she knew anything about this whole being-dead thing. "Hullo love." 

*

It took Sirius a long time to stop marveling at the fact that he could now touch James and talk to him. In his own way, James was doing the same thing. He'd gotten so used to Sirius not being able to hear anything he said that he was pretty sure he hadn't shut up for the last twenty minutes, just so he could hear Sirius hum or say 'yeah' as he talked. 

"How do you know all of that?" Sirius interrupted at some point. James had sort of been ranting at him for staying in Azkaban for so long, and then going to Grimmauld Place afterwards. Historically, those were the worst two places in Britain. 

"I was with you." 

"You mean, like, watching me?" Sirius asked, tilting his head slightly as he tried to wrap his head around it. 

"No, I mean that I was with you. Since your first week in Azkaban." 

"You... the whole time?" Sirius asked, voice breaking. 

"Yeah," James said, giving him a small smile. "I couldn't leave you alone, Sirius. You were sad. I can't leave my Padfoot alone when he's sad." 

Sirius pulled him in for another hug even though they'd never really let go of each other, clenching so tightly that James wouldn't have been able to get away even if he wanted to-- and he didn't. He could stay this way forever. 

[goldencuffs]

I'M HORRIBLE AT PROMPTS. laurent trying to do something really nice for damen&it kind of goes to hell but damen loves him so much&can't quit loving on him for it all? or laurent goes to some university&everyone thinks he's gorgeous but he's kind of a bitch&when he tells them he has a boyfriend everyone is like yeah right then damen comes to pick him up, looking hotter than anyone has any right to be&laurent melts with him? i'll read literally anything you write, it could be a n y t h i n g

@marrieddorkss​ im so so so sorry this took so fucking long lmao my god. im a mess. hopefully you still like it?? and it isnt such a fucking disaster lol?? 

Summary: Laurent decides to do something nice for Damen – and then immediately regrets it.

When Laurent comes back from his last class of the day, it’s to find Damen standing outside his dorm room, wearing a nice, oversized tank top and fraying shorts. The duffle bag by his feet is packed full; Laurent can see the sides of it are lumpy.

 “Hey.” Damen’s smile is pleasant. It transforms his face and makes him look younger, despite the stubble growing across his face.

 Laurent smiles too. “Hello,” he says, and when he’s close enough, he rests his hands on Damen’s hips and goes on his tiptoes to kiss his nose.

 Damen’s smile widens, the creases by his eyes deepening. He scans Laurent’s face intently. “I’m guessing that your presentation went well?”

“It went well,” Laurent says. He pauses. “Actually, it went very well. I managed to answer every single question at the end.”

 Damen wraps his arms around Laurent’s shoulders in a tight squeeze. “Fuck yeah!” He cheers. His enthusiasm is genuine, and it makes Laurent’s face heat.

 “It’s not that big of a deal – I’m sure there are other people who did way better.”

 “Stop that,” says Damen. He kisses Laurent’s forehead. “You killed it; I know you did.”

 Laurent doesn’t answer. He just tips his head up in a silent request. Damen’s smile softens around the edges, and then he leans down to kiss Laurent fully on his mouth.

 The kiss heats up quickly, as usual. Damen licks inside his mouth with vigour, his hand moving down Laurent’s back to grip his ass. Laurent moans into it, tugging on the front of Damen’s shirt to pull him closer.

 Damen’s cock is already hard; it presses up against the inside of Laurent’s thigh in a slow, teasing drag. Laurent shifts his own hips forward, his body tight with anticipation.

 A door slams shut at the end of the corridor and Damen detaches himself from Laurent in a measured pace, realising at the same moment Laurent does, that they’re in a very open, public setting.

 “Come inside,” Laurent tells him.

 Damen squeezes his ass again. “Here?” His smirk is sharp and arrogant.

 Laurent hates how much he likes it.

 He doesn’t let Damen know that though; instead, he rolls his eyes and drags Damen inside to his dorm room. It’s far from its usual pristine condition; Laurent hasn’t made his bed in a week, his dirty clothes are in a pile by the door and his desk is overflowing with papers, textbooks and plastic wrappers from food he’s bought lately.

 Laurent grimaces at the mess. Damen doesn’t seem to mind, or even acknowledge it; he flings himself onto the single bed with as much ease as he can, hauling his duffle bag up with him.

 “What’s in there?” Laurent asks.

 The duffle bag is an expensive, leather one. For years, it had sat alone and dusty in the Revere’s garage, until Laurent had gifted it to Damen over the summer. Now, it’s used constantly; Damen takes it with him to classes and football practice and is rarely seen without it. He takes good care of it too: he diligently cleans it once a week and keeps it stored in his closet, away from sunlight.

 Damen waggles his eyebrows in response to Laurent’s question. He sits up again and opens it with an exaggerated amount of fanfare, slowly inching the zipper in small tugs.

 It’s amusing; it shouldn’t be, but almost everything Damen does makes Laurent laugh. He likes that.

 Inside the lining of the bag, the tag is visible. It used to simply read ‘Revere’, but someone – probably Nikandros – has added, with marker, an apostrophe and the word ‘bitch’, so the entire thing says: ‘Revere’s bitch’.

 Laurent also likes that.

 Laurent doesn’t focus too long on the tag. The contents of the bag are much more appealing: there’s an assortment of treats packed haphazardly inside. Laurent can see chip packets, chocolate, tubs of ice cream and a four pack of Krispy Kreme donuts.

 Laurent taps the lid of one of the ice cream containers; it’s sea salt, his favourite. “Did you rob a grocery store? Is this your first step into the tantalising world of crime?”

 Damen’s shrug is uncharacteristically shy. His fingers are still toying with the zipper, but he still manages to look Laurent in the eye as he says, “They’re for you. I figured – depending on how your presentation goes – they’d either be celebratory snacks or conciliatory ones.”

 Laurent smiles. There’s a sudden, pressing warmth in his chest. “Really,” he says, touched.

 Damen is still shy; it’s a strange yet endearing look on him.

 Laurent’s smile doesn’t waver. He pushes the duffle bag a little, so it ends up against the wall, rather than between them. He crosses the now empty space, shifting closer to Damen until Laurent manages to straddle his lap, knees digging into the hard mattress below.

 He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Damen’s mouth. He keeps his mouth there, against the stubble across Damen’s jaw, and says: “Thank you. I love how thoughtful you are.”

 Damen swallows, eyes darkening. His hands rest on Laurent’s hips. His touch is deceptively light.

 This time, Laurent initiates the kiss. He keeps it slow, the way he favours, and Damen lets him. His hands begin to wander over Laurent’s body; even when they’re not fucking, Laurent has come to learn that Damen likes to touch him constantly.

 When Damen’s hands settle on Laurent’s ass once more, Laurent shifts his hips a little. Damen’s other hand drops to cup Laurent’s ass cheek.

 Laurent’s gasp is a quiet sound; most of it is swallowed by Damen’s mouth.

 They begin a slow, steady rut. It reminds Laurent of the first time they did this, a few months ago in a secluded booth in Route, the small club down the road from their campus.

 Laurent didn’t know Damen too well at the time, but he was always petering around the Student Life office, where Laurent had been volunteering on and off throughout the semester. He wasn’t sure what Damen did there: sometimes he volunteered to help with administrative tasks, but mostly, from what Laurent saw, Damen seemed to just want to hang around him.

 They formed a tentative, shallow relationship that consisted of very poor flirting on Laurent’s part and a lot of unprecedented confidence on Damen’s.

 It was obvious to everyone how much Damen wanted to fuck Laurent; he always looked half crazed every time Laurent so much as looked at him. Laurent found that he didn’t exactly mind it; Damen was attractive, receiving his attention was heady, and it wasn’t as though Laurent was swimming in proposals.

 So, when Damen had asked him to hang out at Route with him on a Saturday night, Laurent had said yes, fully expecting the outcome of the evening.

 Still, Damen had seemed surprised when, after two drinks, Laurent climbed into his lap. Their first kiss had been relatively innocent: just a short, chaste peck. Then Laurent, spurred on by the alcohol, deepened it. Damen responded eagerly, pulling closer Laurent and licking into his mouth with a shocking amount of indecency.

 After a while, he’d pulled back. His eyes had been so dark, and he’d gazed at Laurent with awe.

 Laurent had said: “If you’re going to keep looking at me like that, you might as well just fuck me here.”

 Damen had inhaled sharply; even with all the noise around them, Laurent still managed to hear it.

 Twenty minutes later, Laurent had been pressed down into his mattress as Damen licked him open for his cock.

 As he’d pushed into him for the first time, Damen panted into his ear, “Fuck, I don’t usually do this on a first date.”

 Laurent had laughed.

 Afterwards, Laurent had thought he wouldn’t see much of Damen anymore. He knew how one night stands worked. He suspected that now that Damen had been inside him – more than once, actually – he would stop loitering around the Student Life office.

 That didn’t happen. Instead, Damen seemed more persistent to hang around Laurent. Laurent let it happen. By this point, he’d grown fond of Damen, the way someone might feel fond over a stray puppy that constantly showed up at their door.

 Besides, as the weeks wore on, Laurent discovered that as well as being extremely sexually compatible, Damen and he were also compatible outside of bed; they became fast friends, much to the bemusement of everyone else.

 It’s amazing how far they’ve come, Laurent thinks. He doesn’t think he’s been so comfortable with anyone in his entire life.

 Now, in the silence of his bedroom, Damen’s lips drag across Laurent’s neck. Laurent shivers, fingers running over Damen’s shoulders. He’s careful as he tugs off Damen’s shirt. Damen’s chest is marvellous – it’s all sculpted pecs and hard planes. There’s a tattoo of a lion roaring on his right pec. It’s the most obnoxious thing Laurent has ever seen, and the first time Laurent had seen it, he’d licked it. He might’ve felt stupid about it at the time, but that feeling quickly evaporated when Damen’s hips stuttered, and he’d spilled his release inside Laurent.

 Once Damen’s shirt comes off, the need to get naked becomes a priority for both of them. Damen rolls Laurent onto his back after Laurent takes off his own shirt, mouthing over his collarbone, his nipples, his bellybutton, and then his hipbone.

 Laurent is quick to unbuckle his belt when Damen kisses the waistband of his jeans.

 Damen is always meticulous in preparing him. It doesn’t matter if it’s been five minutes or five days since they last fucked, Damen never rushes. Laurent’s given up on trying to coax him to be faster.

 Laurent’s knee jerks a little when Damen’s fingers, covered in cold lube, circle around his rim in sure strokes. Damen kisses the inside of his thigh, then the crease of his groin as Laurent pants. When his finger breaches Laurent, Laurent turns his head into the pillow, moaning against the silk fabric.

 “Please,” he says quietly, and Damen groans, long and loud. He likes it when Laurent begs, a fact that makes Laurent flush.

 Damen continues fingering him. The sounds are disgusting, wet and sloppy. Laurent doesn’t understand why he likes it so much.

 Finally, finally, Damen pulls away. Laurent’s fingers twist the bedsheets in anticipation. He knows he’s flushed all over; he can feel the colour vining across the bridge of his nose and down his chest.

 Damen’s cockhead drags down his crease. It makes Laurent delirious.

 “Yeah?” says Damen. His hand grips the base of his cock and his eyes are fixed on Laurent, like he can’t bear to look away.  Laurent knows the feeling; Damen looks so good like this.

 “Yes,” says Laurent, in Veretian.

 That makes Damen groan again. He only gets louder as he pushes into Laurent. Laurent’s eyes go cross eyed at the initial stretch. He loves this: the initial pain of Damen’s cock entering him.

 “God, Laurent.” Damen grunts as he starts thrusting, biting down on the column of Laurent’s neck.

 “Yeah, fuck me,” Laurent says. His hands slide down Damen’s sweaty back. “Harder – please, I need it.”

 “Fuck,” Damen gasps as he complies. He lifts his head from the crook of Laurent’s shoulder and kisses him.

 Laurent keens into it. He wraps his legs around Damen’s waist, murmuring encouragements in Veretian against Damen’s mouth.

 Damen’s thrusts start to get shallow; his rhythm isn’t synced, but it still makes Laurent’s toes curl.

 “Good?” Damen says. His biceps are straining with effort.

 “You know it is,” Laurent says.

 “I like the confirmation,” Damen says with that terrible smirk, and Laurent closes his eyes and lets himself take it.

 Damen comes first. He’s loud when it happens; Laurent is sure his neighbours hate him.

 His cock is straining against his stomach when Damen pulls out. Laurent flushes when he feels the wetness inside him, and he darkens further when Damen pulls his ass cheeks apart, watching in awe as his come dribbles out of Laurent’s hole.

 “Don’t touch your cock,” says Damen.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Laurent arches his back when Damen’s mouth seals over his hole.

 Damen slips his tongue in easily, licking into Laurent with enthusiasm. Laurent shakes under his grip. Damen’s stubble rubs against his skin, and Laurent knows it’s steadily pinkening.

 He feels on edge. His cock is so hard it hurts. He pulls on Damen’s curls desperately, and Damen buries into him deeper.

 Laurent’s mouth falls open. His quiet panting fills the room, joining the cacophony of sounds Damen’s mouth produces as he eats him out.

 Laurent feels like crying. He almost asks Damen to stop because it’s too much, too much, too much.

 Then Damen slows down to short, tiny licks. When he resurfaces, he gives Laurent a filthy wink. His chin is wet.

 Laurent comes.

 *

 Every Thursday, Laurent and Damen have lunch at a small brunch place just outside campus. It’s usually packed, but Damen always manages to secure them a table. Laurent suspects this is because Damen has slept with one of the baristas. Damen has never explicitly denied this detail.

 Today, their table is outside, along the gravel path leading to the campus gardens. The weather is nice; a rarity in Marlas, and Laurent enjoys the sunshine on his face.

 Initially their weekly lunch meetings had been a habit borne out of practicality: last semester, one of the only days they could meet up was on Thursday mornings. After a good, thorough fuck, Damen always needed a cigarette, and Laurent always got hungry, so their solution was to head out to this particular brunch place.

 Now, though, it’s become a fixed tradition between them. Damen also refers to it as their place – which Laurent still doesn’t quite understand.

 Damen orders his usual – the everything breakfast – and Laurent, pleasantly reminded of this morning’s activities when he moves in his seat, decides to order the same thing.

 Halfway through their meal, they’re interrupted by Nikandros, one of Damen’s teammates. Nikandros is wearing his letterman jacket, but he shrugs it off as he pulls up a seat at their table. He steals a chorizo sausage off of Laurent’s plate, despite Laurent’s protests.

 Nikandros starts talking to Damen about the statistics of their latest game while Laurent finishes up his food. Once he’s done, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. He manages to finish half of it; he offers Nikandros the rest. Nikandros eyes fall on the cigarette, then Laurent’s mouth, before he forcibly tears his eyes away and shakes his head.

 He addresses Damen again, his voice slightly hoarse, “Hey! I just remembered – guess who I saw coming out the law library today?”

 “Who?” Damen takes Laurent’s cigarette.

 Nikandros pauses for dramatic effect. His smirk is not as attractive as Damen’s. “Lykaios.”

 Damen drops his cigarette. He doesn’t pay it much mind; instead, he leans forward in his seat, eyes alight. “Wait – seriously? You’re not messing with me?”

 “Nah,” Nikandros shakes his head, looking pleased. “Asked her what she’s doing here, apparently she’s starting postgrad law this semester.” Nikandros pauses again. “Like you.”

 “Wow.” Damen’s expression is brittle with disbelief. “What are the chances?”

 “Seems like fate.”

 “Who’s Lykaios?” Laurent asks.

 “Oh,” says Damen. “She’s an old friend from when I still lived in Ios.”

 “A friend,” says Nikandros. His expression is amused. “Oh, come on, you two were practically together.”

 “That’s not true,” Damen says quickly. He casts Laurent a reassuring look. “It honestly isn’t.”

 Laurent doesn’t understand why Damen is being so defensive; it’s not news to him that Damen has been with other people.

 “You were pretty much in love with her, dude.” Nikandros picks a sausage off Damen’s plate this time.

 “Oh,” Laurent says before he can help it. The statement takes him by surprise. One of the first things Damen had told him when they’d first started hooking up was: I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. In the stillness of the night, Damen had been vulnerable and open; it was the first time Laurent realised the person in his bed might be more multifaceted than he let on.

 “No,” Damen gives Laurent another reassuring look. His foot presses against Laurent’s underneath the table. “I wasn’t.” His voice is firm. “There was a time I thought I was, but I was wrong.”

 Nikandros clearly doesn’t believe him. He rolls his eyes and utters a small, “Whatever.”

 Laurent pulls out another cigarette, thinking.

 *

 Later that night, Laurent is contemplative. It’s late: almost two in the morning and the rain outside is a welcome, soothing noise.

 Laurent is so sore, he almost regrets the last round, as short as it was. It doesn’t keep him from draping himself over Damen’s chest, fingers lazily tracing over the tattoo on his pec.

 Damen keeps running his fingers through Laurent’s sweat soaked hair, his fingernails gently scratching against his scalp. It’s so relaxing, Laurent feels like he could fall asleep like this. Practically, he knows he shouldn’t: there’s dry come on his stomach and between his thighs. He’s also sweaty, and Damen is too.

 But instead of getting up, Laurent asks into the stillness of the night: “What is she like?”

 Damen jerks a little; his eyes have been closed for a while now.

 “Hm?”

 “Lykaios,” Laurent says. “I want to know what she’s like.”

 There’s a small pause. Damen shifts again. “Why?”

 “I don’t know. It seemed like she means a lot to you – and I’m interested.”

 “She meant a lot to me. As in, past tense.”

 “It didn’t seem that way during lunch,” Laurent points out. He doesn’t know why Damen is being so evasive and why it’s bothering him so much. “You seemed excited to hear about her.”

 “Well yeah,” Damen says. In the darkness, it’s hard to read his usually expressive face, but Laurent can still sense a growing tightness in Damen’s body. “But that’s only because it’s been a while since any of us have heard from her. She sort of disappeared after first year.”

 Laurent pinches Damen’s bicep. “Tell me.”

 Damen sighs. He rolls over, so Laurent is unfairly jostled aside. He turns on the lamp on the bedside table. As the room is washed in a dull yellow light, Laurent can see how matted Damen’s hair has become, as well as the fingernail indentations along his shoulders.

 “There’s honestly not much to say,” Damen says. His voice is very quiet, mindful of the neighbouring dorm rooms. “We were family friends for years, and in my senior year I realised I liked her a lot – more than I thought I did. But she had a boyfriend, so I never did anything about it. And then she dumped him because she liked me, but this time I was seeing someone. So, in the end, nothing happened.”

 “That’s it?” Laurent frowns. In his mind, he keeps replaying Damen’s reaction at lunch; surely, there must be more to the story. Damen huffs. It almost seems like he’s pouting. He pokes Laurent’s stomach, hard. “You’re being very annoying.”

 Laurent swats his hand away. “Are you still in love with her?”

 “I already told you I never was. I just thought I could be because I was a horny eighteen year old.”

 That makes Laurent laugh. It’s an unintentional sound, but it makes Damen smile.

 “I’m not interested in anyone but you,” Damen says, too sincerely. The words hang heavy in the air.

 Laurent doesn’t know what to make of it – not just the words, but Damen’s tone as well. It makes his stomach clamp up. He thinks Damen is making a point about how attractive he finds Laurent; in bed, the subject of Laurent’s body is always a welcoming topic.

 So, Laurent says, a little awkwardly, “Thank you.”

 Damen snorts. He looks fond. He kisses Laurent, and Laurent gladly welcomes it.

 It’s a slow, sensual kiss. Damen keeps mapping out Laurent’s body with his hands, fingertips tracing over the veins across Laurent’s wrist, his chest.

 “Think you can go again?” Damen says against his mouth. Pressed to each other like this, Laurent can feel Damen’s erection. It’s hot, he thinks to himself, how Damen physically reacts to him, even when Laurent hasn’t done anything to particularly excite him.

 He’s still sore, sweaty and gross, but Laurent says: “Yes.”

 *

 Laurent is late to his study session with Damen on Wednesday. They normally don’t study together; tonight is an exception. Damen is apparently tired of being cooped in his room alone as he pours over his essays.

 Outside the study room, Laurent pauses. Through the clear glass, he can see Damen is already seated, textbooks placed carelessly over the wooden tabletop. But he’s not alone. There’s someone seated on the edge of the table, in the one corner free of Damen’s things.

 It’s Lykaios. Laurent knows it must be; Damen’s face is exuberant, creased with warmth. His smile is filled with teeth, white and straight, and there’s a lingering softness there. Laurent’s chest clenches with a foreign feeling. He’s unsure what it is, but then deduces it must be relief at seeing Damen so happy.

 Laurent almost turns back. He wants to give Damen and his not-quite ex-girlfriend time to catch up. The thought of intruding on them with his presence fills him with anxiety. But he remains rooted on the spot because, for some strange reason, the thought of leaving them alone also fills him with anxiety.

 Luckily – or perhaps, unluckily; Laurent still hasn’t made up his mind – Damen spots him through the glass. His smile, now directed at Laurent, changes instantly; it dissolves into a steady kind of fondness. His eyes seem to shine brighter.

 It completely baffles Laurent.

 His chest tightens again; this time, it’s much more pleasant.

 Laurent supposes he should enter now. Damen seems to have forgotten about Lykaios; his eyes remain on Laurent as Laurent fumbles with the doorknob and steps into the room.

 “Hey,” he says. His smile – and voice – wobble. “Sorry I’m late.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” Damen’s smile, impossibly, widens even more. Laurent’s gaze is helplessly drawn to it.

 They stare at each other for a few moments longer than necessary until Damen seems to remember they’re not alone. He fumbles over the introductions, face flushed.

 Lykaios is unbelievably gorgeous. Like most Akielons, she’s very tall; even wearing flats she’s a few inches taller than Laurent. Laurent tries not to be bitter about it. Her hair isn’t as blonde as Laurent’s, but it’s long and shiny. Her eyes are amazing; long lashed and an intriguing colour, somewhere between green and blue.

 Standing next to Damen, the two of them look like a regal painting. They look good together. They complement each other.

 Laurent – unexpectedly, painfully – feels inadequate.

 Lykaios rounds the table and shakes Laurent’s hand with vigour. Her smile is kind and open; her enthusiasm is genuine. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Damen has managed to mention your name about a hundred times in the last half an hour.”

 Damen flushes at that, suddenly busying himself with rearranging his textbooks.

 Laurent smiles. He can feel the heat travel across his face. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

 “I’m sorry for interrupting your study session.” Her voice is so sweet, Laurent thinks he could listen to her talk all day. “I was literally just walking past and saw Damen in here. I almost couldn’t believe it.” She turns to Damen and gives him in an assessing look. “It’s been what – six years?”

 “Fuck off,” Damen says, with little heat. “I don’t want to be reminded of how old I am.”

 Lykaios laughs at that. Her laugh is sweet too.

 Laurent says, “You guys will probably see more of each other now. You’re in the same course, right?”

 Lykaios beams. “Yep! Another weird coincidence.”

 “Or fate,” Laurent points out.

 Damen gives him a strange look. “Definitely just a coincidence.”

 “Ah, who knows the mysterious ways of the universe,” says Lykaios. She gives Laurent a wink.

 Laurent decides he likes her, despite the twisting in his gut.

 It’s why he says: “Did you want to stay and study with us? We were also going to grab some dinner afterwards. You could join us for that too.”

 Damen gives him another strange look; this one is brittle with disbelief.

 Laurent ignores it. He keeps his eyes on Lykaios, who smiles at him.

 “Thank you for the very kind offer, but I’ve already got plans tonight, I’m afraid.” She seems genuinely sorry, and it makes Laurent like her even more.

 “Maybe next time,” Laurent says.

 Damen frowns.

 Lykaios doesn’t stay too long after that; she claims she needs to start getting ready for her night out. When she leaves, she kisses Damen’s cheek. Laurent bristles a little at that.

 But his annoyance morphs into pleasantness when she hugs him goodbye – like Damen, she is very touchy, Laurent notices.

 As soon as the door closes behind her, Damen kisses Laurent, hard and open mouthed. It’s a terrible kiss; Laurent isn’t expecting it, and he almost topples backwards with the force of it. Then he starts laughing, so Damen’s mouth mostly meets his teeth.

 The second one is much, much better.

 “I’ve been wanting to do that for the past ten minutes,” says Damen. “Next time, kissing first, and then we move on to having a conversation.”

 “Shut up,” says Laurent. He pulls out his textbooks, trying not to laugh. After a few moments, he says, “She seems really nice. I can see why you liked her so much.”

 He imagines Damen at eighteen, maybe a little naïve and cocky, completely enamoured by Lykaios’ sweetness.

 Damen rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He squints at Laurent. “You’re not still hung up on that are you?” His mouth deepens into a smirk. He waggles his eyebrows. “Need me to prove my loyalty, baby?”

 Laurent flushes. It’s not the first time Damen has used that endearment – he mostly says it in bed – but it still catches Laurent off guard every time.

 His mouth is suddenly very dry. The only thing he can manage to say is: “Shut up.” And then he gets to work, smiling into his shoulder when Damen’s foot wraps around his underneath the table.

 *

 Lykaios’ Instagram is an explosion of colour: she likes wearing a lot of red and green and purple. Her entire profile is filled with her travels, charity work, her friends, and some shots of her eyelids coated in glitter. The more Laurent scrolls, the more careful he is not to like anything.

 There are plenty of pictures of her from high school; Damen is in most of them, fresh faced and youthful. It’s strange to look at: nothing about Damen is boyish, but these pictures prove otherwise.

 Laurent comes across a photo of Lykaios and Damen from six years ago. In it, Damen has his arm around her waist while Lykaios rests her head on his shoulder.

 The caption is: hbd to this guy aka my soulmate #finally18

 Soulmate, Laurent thinks. His mouth purses.

 Damen’s comment is the first comment. It reads: love u ly!

 Laurent puts his phone down.

 His thoughts come too fast: he starts to think of all the ways Damen and Lykaios fit together, how connected they seemed even after so much time apart. He thinks of how nice they looked together.

 Then, Laurent starts thinking of all the nice things Damen has done for him over the last few months. The duffel bag full of his favourite snacks comes to mind, as does the time Damen took him to a fancy restaurant when Laurent had averaged a high distinction last semester. Damen had even driven him almost forty minutes to the dentist once, even though he had an assessment due in the afternoon.

 Damen is always doing nice things for him, and Laurent realises, guiltily, that he’s never quite returned the favour. His own gestures have often been small and unnoteworthy; they’ve never possessed the grandeur of Damen’s actions.

 Laurent knows exactly how to change that.

 *

 Laurent isn’t the most forthcoming person. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to gather enough courage to message Lykaios on Instagram. But once he makes it past his awkward introduction – hey this is laurent in case you don’t remember me – to which Lykaios had responded ofc i do silly!, their conversations are light and easy.

The more Laurent talks to her over the week, the more he’s convinced of his plan. Lykaios is everything Damen needs and vice versa. It’s crazy how similar their personalities are: they’re both incredibly sweet, intelligent and interested in almost all the same things, from okton to hiking.

 The next week, Laurent invites Lykaios to his and Damen’s weekly lunch outing.

 Damen smiles when he sees him. He doesn’t lose the smile on his face when he sees Lykaios, but his eyes snap to Laurent’s in confusion.

 “This is a nice surprise,” he says, although his tone is dry.

 Laurent pretends not to notice it. Lykaios kisses Damen’s cheek in greeting and Laurent scratches at his chest as he sits down.

 Damen leans over the table to kiss him, but Laurent quickly picks out the menu and starts to read it, even though he’s practically memorised it by now. He doesn’t want Damen to kiss him now – especially in front of Lykaios – and ruin his plan before it’s had the chance to even formulate.

 When he puts the menu back, Damen is openly frowning.

 It disappears as Lykaios begins talking. The transformation is amazing; Damen is instantly captivated by her. Laurent swallows. This is good, he reminds himself.

 Laurent waits about ten minutes. He’s started to notice that even though Damen is laughing along to all of Lykaios’ jokes, he’s still shooting Laurent glances every few seconds.

 The question on his face is clear: why is she here?

 Laurent plays with his phone for a while. He tries to make it look like he’s texting something important; he keeps his brows furrowed in concentration.

 Laurent isn’t the best actor, but even he’s proud of himself as he lets out a small gasp.

 “What is it?” says Damen, instantly alert.

 “Nothing,” Laurent waves him off. “It’s just that I completely forgot I had a study session right now.” He stands up, grabs his bag. “I should go.”

 “Wait –” Damen’s face pinches. “You’re leaving?”

 “I’m sorry, but this is really important.” Laurent turns to Lykaios and smiles. “You two stay and have fun.”

 “But –”

 “Bye!” Laurent says it too enthusiastically, cutting Damen off. He walks out of the brunch place with hurried steps. He turns back at the end of the gravel path just to check if –

 His chest tightens with pleasure – yes, pleasure, although he’s not sure why it doesn’t feel like it – when he sees his absence has made little disturbance. Damen and Lykaios are laughing together, mouths open in delight.

 Over the next few days, Laurent organises more and more outings with Damen and Lykaios. Damen never seems to stop looking confused whenever Laurent invites Lykaios, but he also seems happy to see her, so Laurent counts it as a win. During each outing, Laurent manages to come up with a different excuse each time as to why he needed to leave early. Damen always looks disappointed. Laurent is weak for it; he can’t count how many times that look has almost made him stay, but he doesn’t, because it would be detrimental to his plan.

 Laurent makes sure to text Damen whether or not he enjoyed his time with Lykaios. Damen’s responses are pretty much the same every time: Yes, but it would’ve been better if you were there too.

 It frustrates Laurent. Damen isn’t supposed to still be thinking of him while he’s hanging out with his potential soulmate.

 Lykaios is the first to grow suspicious. She confronts him at the next outing. They’re in an idyllic little bar in the city, with a cosy atmosphere. It’s a perfect date venue.

 Damen heads to the bathroom, and Laurent stands up, ready to leave, when Lykaios stops him with a hand on his arm.

 “Laurent,” she says. “Is there a reason you keep depriving us of your company?”

 Laurent manages a sheepish smile. He wonders if he should say anything at all. Then, he decides he should: he feels like Lykaios would appreciate his directive.

 Laurent plays with the little sugar packets on the table. “I’ve been trying to get you and Damen to spend more time together. Alone,” he adds, when he sees her confusion.

 “Why?”

 “Well…” Laurent hesitates; he’s just now beginning to realise how awkward this is. “I think you two would be good together…romantically.”

 Lykaios raises her eyebrows.

 Laurent continues, fingers still fidgeting. “It’s just…Damen mentioned how much you two liked each other a few years ago. And I think Damen still regards you very highly. Plus, you two are so alike – I just think it makes sense.”

 Lykaios’ eyebrows don’t lower, but she casts a backward glance towards where Damen has disappeared to.

 “I can’t say I haven’t thought about Damen and I…” she begins, and Laurent’s gut twists with…relief? Yes, he’s sure it’s relief. It’s a good – great – thing that Lykaios is interested in Damen. “But I thought –” Lykaios pauses for a few seconds. “I mean, I was under the impression that you and Damen were together.”

 Laurent laughs, and then he realises she’s being serious. “You – no. We’re not. We’re friends.” Friends who spent a lot of time sleeping together, sure, but Laurent doesn’t think mentioning that now will do him any favours.

 Lykaios’ face instantly changes. Her smile takes up her entire face; it’s stunning. She’s stunning.

 Laurent shifts in his seat. He clears his throat. “So – you…you want to date him?”

 She flushes, and it only makes her look more beautiful. “Like I said…I’ve definitely thought about it.”

 “Oh – good. That’s awesome. Damen will be so happy.” He stands up. “So, I’ll leave you two alone?”

Lykaios nods. “Thank you, Laurent.”

 “Don’t mention it.”

 He turns around to leave. Everything in his body is screaming not to.

 He keeps reminding himself that he’s doing something nice for Damen: that Damen will appreciate the fact that Laurent set him up with someone like Lykaios, a brilliant woman he has a past with. His mouth is dry, and Laurent’s palms are suddenly sweaty. Briefly, he wonders if this is always what happens when people do nice things for another. If it is…he might have to limit his niceness.

 *

 Laurent doesn’t mean to start ignoring Damen’s calls or texts. It just happens. He isn’t in the mood to listen to Damen go on about Lykaios; Laurent already knows she’s amazing.

 He’s also confident that they’re dating now – or at least getting there. Lykaios posted a lot of snaps from the last night Laurent left them alone, and all of them had been of Damen smiling, drinking, smirking at the camera. They’d been there until three in the morning; Laurent knows because he’d stayed up until then, refreshing his Instagram feed to see any updates on Lykaios’ story.

 What had they even been doing for so long anyway? Damen had called him until eleven, before he presumably gave up. Had Lykaios pulled a move on him? Had they gone back to Damen’s room, fucked on his bed? Had Damen thought of how he’d fucked Laurent on that same bed just last week? Or had he been so consumed by Lykaios and her pleasantness that Damen hadn’t even thought of Laurent?

 Laurent had had the worst night of sleep.

 And then a few nights ago, Nikandros had posted an image of the football team hanging around at his dorm room. (Laurent vaguely remembers being invited to that). In the photo, Laurent’s eyes had immediately been drawn to Damen in the corner, his head bent down as he said something to Lykaios, who had been smiling widely. It had looked very intimate. Laurent had turned his phone off when he saw it.

 Alone in his room, Laurent lies on his bed, heart constricting. He should be happy for Damen. It’s frustrating him that he isn’t. And worst of all, he doesn’t know why.

 He thinks it might be because he’s gotten so used to having Damen around all the time. If Damen starts seeing someone, then he’d obviously start spending less time with Laurent.

 Laurent doesn’t want Damen to spend less time with him. If anything, they should be spending more time together. He only sees Damen about four times a week! That’s too little. Laurent should talk to Damen about that. He should tell him, Damen, even though you have a girlfriend now, I still want you to spend all your time with me, and I still want you to take me to fancy restaurants and then fuck me hard when we get home.

 Horrified, Laurent rolls over and screams into his pillow.

  *

 A few hours later, while Laurent is trying to clean out his desk drawers, there’s a knock on the door. It’s a rapid set of knocks, loud and urgent.

 Laurent frowns. He opens the door and his heart jumps when he sees Damen there, wearing a shirt Laurent had gifted him in the summer. Damen’s face is annoyed; it’s not an expression Laurent has seen often on Damen - and even rarely directed towards him. 

 Damen pushes past Laurent into the room. He takes up most of the space in it. Laurent’s heart still hasn’t calmed down. 

 “Tell me,” says Damen.

 “What?”

 “Tell me what I did wrong. I don’t like this passive aggressive bullshit.”

 “What?” Laurent says again.

 Damen crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You haven’t returned a single one of my calls or texts. You don’t want to hang out with me anymore. And I waited all night for you to show up to Nikandros’ and you didn’t.” When Laurent doesn’t say anything, he presses on. “Well? What did I do to piss you off?”

 “I – nothing,” Laurent shakes his head, shocked. “I’m not mad at you.“

 "Please,” Damen scoffs. “You -”

 "I’m not,“ Laurent says. “I was just giving you some space.”

 ”Space. Why?“

 "Well…” Laurent finds himself hesitating. “So you and Lykaios can spend more time together.”

 “Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

 “Um. She didn’t tell you?”

 Damen’s eyes harden. His mouth presses into a tight line. “Can you please just give me a straight answer?”

 “I’m – I’ve been trying to set you and Lykaios up.” Damen’s mouth drops open. Laurent quickly adds, “I talked to her about it and she said she’s been thinking of dating you too! So you know…” He trails off weakly.

 There’s a sudden, pressing silence. It engulfs the small space of Laurent’s room.

 In a very quiet, measured voice, Damen says, “What makes you think I would want to date Lykaios?”

 “She really likes you Damen. And I think you two would be a good match. I mean – you’re so compatible.”

 “No.” Damen’s voice is hard. “I meant: why the fuck do you think I would want to date Lykaios when I’m already dating you?”

 Laurent’s eyes widen. His breath stutters in his chest. There’s a strange ringing in his ears. “We’re not dating.” His voice is too quiet; he can’t bring himself to repeat himself any louder.

 Damen’s eyes bulge. It would be a comical expression if the atmosphere in the room wasn’t so deadly.

 “Not. Dating.” Damen repeats between his teeth. “You – You really believe that?”

 Damen’s mouth loosens around the edges. He looks like he’s received the worst news of his life.

 “I –” Laurent fumbles with his words. The back of his neck prickles with discomfort. “We’re friends.”

 “Is that what we are?” Damen scoffs. “My mistake, then.”

 Laurent still feels wrongfooted. It’s almost like he’s not even experiencing this conversation, just watching himself have it.

 “I don’t understand,” says Laurent. “I was just trying to do something nice for you. I thought it’d be good for you if you had a girlfriend like Lykaios.”

 “For fuck’s sake, Laurent.” All of Damen’s anger melts away. His tone now is sullen.  “I’ve literally been obsessed with you for the last six months – are you seriously just realising this now?”

 “I’m –” Laurent swallows. “But you’ve never asked me out or called me your…boyfriend.” His tongue dries up around the world.

 “I asked you out to Route all those months ago!” Damen says.

 “No. You said: ‘do you want to go out with me to –’” Laurent cuts himself off. Now that he thinks about it, he’s sure that Damen did ask him out on a date. He’d also said, I don’t usually do this on a first date while they’d been in bed together, hadn’t he?

 The realisation stumps Laurent.

 “Oh,” he says.

 Damen sits down on the edge of the bed, groaning. He buries his head in his hands. “Oh my god, Laurent. How can someone so smart be so stupid?”

 Laurent supposes he should feel offended by that. He isn’t, though, because he genuinely feels stupid.

 “You still didn’t make anything official.” Laurent says after a while.

 Damen looks up. “Fuck you.” His eyebrows furrow. “What was stopping you from asking me?”

 “Why would I say anything?! I thought you were only interested in fucking me!”

 Damen groans again. He sounds like he’s dying. “If that were true, then why would I –” He gestures around the room. Laurent knows what he means. He thinks of all the…dates Damen has taken him on, all the gifts he’s been given, the fact that Damen doesn’t leave his side when they go to parties together.

 Laurent closes his eyes. This is too much. He’s shocked by the anger that overtakes him – anger at himself.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”

 Damen looks at him steadily. He gathers his thoughts. “Do you still think I should date Lykaios? Because you seem pretty invested in the idea and I –” Damen sighs. “I don’t want to – I don’t think I can be with you if you don’t feel the same as I do.”

 “How do you feel about me?” Laurent asks softly.

 Damen’s gaze is burning. Laurent is pinned beneath it. “Laurent, I love you.”

 Laurent gasps. It’s a soft sound, but in the stillness of the room it rattles against the walls. His throat closes.

 When a few silent moments pass, Damen sighs. He stands up, mouth drooping and fingers tense by his thighs. “Alright…That’s.” He stops. He gives Laurent a small nod. “I’ll just go then.”

 Laurent blocks his path with a shrill, “Wait!”

 Damen stops.

 Laurent’s fingers twitch. He wants to touch Damen. But he knows he should – “I don’t want you to date Lykaios. I don’t even know what the fuck I was thinking, alright? You just – you seemed so into her Damen, and I thought it would be nice if I did you a favour and set you up with her because you’re always doing nice things for me but then I got so sad and angry and confused every time you were together and then I felt guilty for feeling those things and I just –”

 “Okay, slow down,” Damen’s hands grip his shoulders.

 Laurent shakes his head. His chest is bubbling with all these emotions he’s refused to acknowledge. “I don’t want you to date Lykaios,” he repeats. “I want you to date me.” He pauses. “Only me.”

 Damen snorts. “Easy. I’ve already been doing that.”

 “I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Laurent says. His throat is still tight with emotion.

 “We’ll work on communicating better,” Damen says. He peers down at Laurent until their eyes meet. “I only want you, Laurent.”

 Laurent collapses into Damen. He buries his head against Damen’s chest, weak in his relief. He even sniffles a little, something Damen thankfully ignores. “I only want you, too.”

 Damen’s body loosens; he exhales and squeezes Laurent in his embrace. He kisses Laurent’s temple. “That makes me so happy.”

 “Me too,” Laurent says.

 Guiltily, he thinks of Lykaios. He remembers her excitement at the thought of being with Damen. Laurent needs to make it up to her, somehow, if she’ll let him. Maybe he could buy her flowers? Laurent has never bought flowers for anyone in his life, but he thinks Lykaios might like roses – unless that’s too romantic? Or maybe he could –

 “Hey,” Damen says, interrupting his thought process.

 Laurent looks up at him. Damen’s smile is radiant; it’s all white teeth and creased eyes. “Yeah?”

 “Do me a favour.”

 “Anything.”

 Damen kisses him. Laurent smiles into it as his entire body fills with an unparalleled warmth. He’s not sure if he loves Damen back…but he’s confident he’s getting there.

 Damen pulls back. He assesses Laurent with a stern frown. “Don’t ever do anything nice for me.”

 Laurent huffs. He hides his face in Damen’s chest again. “Shut up.”

[lcvlystrcy]

Jamais Vu

Plot: Your Father's Company was the most hatred in the industry. He was a liar and betrayer, that didn't go unnoticed by you. Everyone wanted him gone, but his high position gave him so many possibilities to grow further and further. You never loved him as your father, you never liked living with him neither did he loved you and treated you like dirt. Until one day, you had a big heated argument with him and the end result was you getting into the worst nightmare of your life.

Pairings: up coming ; SKZ x female reader

Warnings: bullying, suicide/death mention, kidnapping, blood, abuse, weapon assault, drugs and alcohol mention, swearing, sexual activities

Genre: angst, slightly comedy, smut

Word count: 1,131 words

Type: mafia!AU , selfwritten

Coming home from school was the most least liked part of your daily routine. Entering the big entry hall of the mansion you dad owned, you could hear him screaming like a maniac in his office room. Not in the mood to talk to him or to see him, you immediately went into your room where the silence felt like heaven for you.

You unpacked you bag to do your homework, as you put the pencil on the paper the door flew open.

"Y/n, I am hungry, I want you to go downstairs and make me something to eat.", he never looked at you as he still typed on the phone. As he didn't get an answer he saw you writing on the paper. He glanced over and saw you doing your homework.

Something in him caught fire, as he pushed all your books, pencils and text books on the ground.

"WHAT THE FUXK, DAD?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?", you yelled at him furiously.

"How many times do I have to tell you, that you will never be a doctor and once I step back from my position, you will take over! IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. NOW GO AND COOK!", he spit in your face. Tears formed in your eyes, only to hear him scoffing and leaving.

He was cruel to you, as sad as it sounds, that happens every day. You cleaned the mess your dad made up and before it would escalates, you went down to cook for him. You served the food on the wooden table and waited for your father. He came to the kitchen, saw the food and you.

"Ahh, I'm sorry I can't eat right now, I got an important call and I have to rush to the company.", He spoke and walked away.

"are you fuckin serious right now?"

"Y/n, Language!"

"No, dad! I cooked the food for you and now you won't even eat it? Why do I even waste my time to cook for you?"

"Invite friends to eat with you.", He mumbled loud enough for you to hear.

"I don't have friends because of you.", You said.

"Ahh no no no. It's not because of me, it's because of you, Y/n. I understand that nobody likes you for you disgusting personality. Be more friendly to people. Just like me", He sarcastically smiled.

"You are an asshole.", You muttered and we're about to put the food away, as you father pulls you by the hair upstairs to your room. He threw you in and locked the door afterwards. You stood up, banging against the door, begging and crying for him to open the door.

"You're staying in there until I come back and I don't know when I will come back home.", His footsteps began to become quieter and quieter, until you were alone in the house locked in your room with no food and no water.

You walked up to the window, opening it and threw the vase at his car. It caused a light damage, but your father wasn't having it. He stormed back in the house, up to your room but he didn't came in.

"Why did you do that?", He asked and he sounded pissed.

"because you deserved it."

"I swear to God if I hadn't promised anything to your mom, I would've already ended you."

"Shut up. You never loved us. That's why she left you. Us. She hates you, she despises you and she would kill you if she could. Just because you are the big boss of the house, doesn't mean you can control us. We have a life too that doesn't require you at all. Now go to your filthy appointment, she's probably waiting for you.", You commented.

"There's no so called filthy appointment, watch your goddamn mouth. I've had enough of your bratty behavior, I do everything I can to give you the perfect future but you're not helping to realize it. I don't want you in this house anymore, when I come back,I want you gone."

His words stabbed you like thousand knives. He wants you gone, but where do you go? You have no one. Tears were flowing, clothes were packed and you have no idea how to go on. You have no money or a phone. Nothing.

Without notice, the front door opened. As the door fell shut, you began to Panik. You were still here and if your father sees you, let's just say it won't be nice. As you looked outside the window, you saw an unfamiliar car parked in front of your house and someone leaning against the car.

"he looks unfamiliar.. who is that?", You whisper. The unknown man looks up to you, smirks, talked to someone on his and shivers run down your body. As you walked backwards, you heard someone shaking the door.

"holy m..", you had no time to think, you had to function. Your first idea was to run to the connected bathroom and lock the door. You hid inside the shower and closed the curtain, trying to control you uneven breathing. You leaned against the wall and listened to the on going banging on the door.

"when will it stop..", your mind was a mess right now. Then the banging stopped, you sigh in relief and went out to check. Your room was still neat, nothing had been touched and as you went to the door, the door was unlocked.

"someone was inside..", you grabbed the baseball bat from the corner of the room and went on to investigate the house. As you walked, you heard a deep laughter. You turned around to find nobody who could've possibly laughed.

"Who's here? Show yourself! I am not afraid?", That was stupid, you thought.

"look who we have here.. A little girl with a baseball bat.", There it was again, the deep voice. But this time you felt a presence, directly behind you. As you were ready to turn around and hit the person, you were kicked down the long staircase.

You groaned in pain, looked up to meet the face of the intruder. His dark eyes looked down to you, his hand reached down to you face and you flinched as he touched you lip.

"You're bleeding, sweetheart. I kicked you to heard didn't I?", He grinned.

"who the fuck are you? What do you want?", You voice came out in a whisper.

"Your father ruined our alliance and took a loved one from us. So we decided to take a loved one from him. If he even loves you.", he laughed.

"Fuck off.", you stated.

"Your really tough, huh?", the man looked up and nodded, the next moment you felt something went on your face and breathed in the strong substance in. Your vision started to become blurry and you senses started to stop working.

Your whole world was now pitch black.

[str-spangled-banner]

After War — Bucky x OC

MASTERLIST  — ASK/REQUEST  — FAQs

Summary:  Ellie goes to the group therapy sessions Sam still holds whenever he finds time in between Avengers-business. Suffering from PTSD, she struggles to build a post-war life for herself as she can’t trust her brain to not mistake friend for foe. It’s at those sessions she meets Bucky who seems just as damaged by the past as she is.

Words: 3 272

Warnings: PTSD, talk of war, delusional episode

A/N: I... Ehm... I haven’t been on this blog for a year...soooo.... hyello. This is a super old thing I said I was gonna write in this post, and I guess better late than never? Right???

"My body is here, at home, but I still feel as if my mind is over there. I still feel as if I'm breathing in the dust underneath the burning sun, having to hold innocent at gunpoint because you have to determine everyone as the enemy. Sometimes it feels like if I reach over my shoulder, I'll feel the rifle right there, just waiting to be used..."

"Your mind is there." Sam agreed, attempting to gain eye contact with the young veteran who couldn't be much older than her, if not the same age. "Your mind is still at war, and it's your job to bring it peace. It is amazing that you can acknowledge the fact that you are not at war, Lawrence, because not all people can. Acknowledging your struggles is a far bigger step on the road to recovery than you can imagine. Being man enough to admit your own weaknesses is your first and greatest step..."

Sam's eyes scanned over everyone and stopped at her. "And being woman enough, of course." He added, causing a few of the other veterans to look her way. "What's your name?"

"Eleanor Conway, but I'd prefer Ellie, sir."

"How many tours?"

"I was First Sergeant in the Air Force, sir. Tours was not something I really did. I flew CSAR op's for three years before moving to Special Operations for my last two years of service."

"Combat search and rescue and special operations? That's some heavy weights you had to lift." Sam kept looking at her, trying to figure out what kind of a person she was. It was her first time in the meeting. He had received her order from court a week prior, giving her the option to either attend his group meetings or spend four months in jail, and that if she was to not show every Thursday night it was Sam's duty to report so.

From what the court order stated, Ellie had been approached by a police officer after she had been idle in her car at a traffic light for over ten minutes. When the officer had knocked on her window, she had tackled him to the ground by throwing the car door open, launched out of her car and on top of him, restraining his arms, only to fly off of him after a few seconds and apologize frantically. Sam didn't need to know much more than that to know that Ellie was yet another victim of post dramatic stress.

He never judged those who came in to the VA office for his sessions, but still he would never have thought she had been such a high rank in the Air Force, and even more surprised was he that she had been doing rescue missions, and special operations on top of that. Those were far from the easy services that the Air Force and the military provided. It would have been strange if anyone made it through all of that without at least a single scar, both physical and not.

"It was, but it's over now." She kept things short and cold, expressing her emotions being something strange and unpleasant in her world. Feelings makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability is not something you can afford when at war, that is something Ellie learned on her first day in the army, and it refuses to leave her mind no matter how much she tries to distance herself from her army days. That fear of being vulnerable latched onto her like a leech, even as war was in her rearview mirror.

"Do you still feel like your mind is at war?" Sam wondered, referring to the previous veteran who had spoken to the group about his struggles.

"No. I'm here." She assured, almost sounding defensive. Sam kept looking at her, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going, but it was clear to him that she wasn't very comfortable with being open, and he just so happened to catch a glimpse of the watch at his wrist after noticing that.

"Alright, that's about enough talking for one day, I'd say. Now, as you all know we work as a team around here, and so what we do is I will give you guys the next half hour to mingle around and find a partner. Why we do this is because it helps us to build a relationship with someone without having to explain or feel embarrassed about our past to them. It's good if you exchange numbers. If you’re having a rough day then maybe you could call your partner and just grab a beer at a local bar or something. It’s little things like that which will help you in the long run, perhaps especially a beer and watching the game on a flat screen." Sam smiled, earning a few laughs from around the room. "You make the rules. Either you want to let your partner into your life or you don't, and whatever path you choose is alright, but each week I'd like you to spend at least fifteen minutes talking to your partner and see how yore both doing, alright? Okay then, let's go. The coffee is going cold."

People began to rise from their seat, heading toward the table with coffee and some water. Ellie remained seated, looking over at the veterans who so easily began to talk amongst one another. They felt comfortable with their own kind, and even though they had never spoken to one another before, they all shared their military past, and somehow that seemed to be enough for them. She didn't recognize the same sense of familiarity. She had worked with others a lot in the Air Force, but when she was flying, she was alone in that plane.

Ellie turned to look down at her hands, but as her eyes moved across the circle of abandoned chairs, she noticed that one wasn't abandoned at all. About five seats to her left sat a man that she hadn't been able to see during the session. His hair was long and dark brown and tied into a knot underneath the rim of his baseball cap. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, and as she looked at him, he noticed her movement and looked over at her only to create eye contact.

Her eyes moved away lazily, not caring that the man clearly had caught her looking at him. She simply sunk down in her seat and let her head fall back, eyes glued to the ceiling. It didn't take long for her to hear the sound of a chair shrieking against the floor to her left and footsteps approaching. The man she had looked at for just a moment sat down in the chair next to her, eyes looking across the room whilst hers were still just looking up.

"I'm Bu-"

"Not interested in having a partner, or whatever." She interrupted him. "Find someone else."

"Who the hell says I want you as a partner?" The man questioned, causing Ellie to raise her head slightly and look at the guy who had no issue with being bold, it seemed.

"What do you want then?" She asked in confusion, not in a rude tone, but not in a particularly friendly one either.

"Well, I was about to introduce myself when some a-hole cut me off." He explained in a cold tone, looking rather annoyed by her dismissiveness. They both maintained eye contact, not saying anything for a few moments, before Ellie eventually reached her hand out towards him.

"Ellie, but you probably knew that already."

"Bucky." He took her hand and shook it when suddenly she noticed that his left hand was being concealed by a black glove. She could only assume he was covering a military injury, just like so many others do after they've served and just like a couple of others in the room. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I can't tell at the moment."

"Wow... I see how it is." Ellie pulled her hand back, tightened her lips and looked ahead of her instead of at him. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he could tell she understood the humor to his words. "It's cool. You don't need to like me."

"Oh if we're talking about liking you, then the answer is a definite no."

"Alright, ha ha... I get it, I was an ass for wanting you to leave me alone. Anything else?" She rolled her eyes back to him.

"We should exchange numbers." He changed the subject, taking her slightly by surprise. "And no, I'm not saying that because you're the only girl in here. I'm saying it because I know Sam better than anyone else here and I know he'll never leave me alone if I don't get one of these partners, nor you, for that matter."

"So we're forced to give our number out and socialize at this place?" She asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"No, but you'll have Sam begging you to do it every time you come here, which is twice a week last time I checked." Bucky placed his elbow on the back of his chair and laid his right leg over his left one leisurely.

"That does sound annoying, I'll admit." She confessed before looking over to Sam who stood against a wall in the room to get an overlook of everyone. He seemed to look towards the door in the moment, but Ellie could tell he was watching her and Bucky in the corner of his eye.

"Alright, give me your number." Ellie pulled her phone out from her pocket, unlocking it and opening up the contacts before handing it to Bucky.

"Really?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"You wanna suggest something and then question me when I agree to it?" She waved the phone in his face until he grabbed it. He wrote his number down and named himself before handing it back to her.

"I left my phone at home so if you could just write your number down..." His words faded out as he noticed the strange look she was giving him. "What? You're not gonna give me your number?"

"I have yours. That's more than enough." She shoved the phone back into her pocket, crossing her arms afterwards and leaning back into her seat.

Bucky had just been about to give a witty comment. Across the room, Sam had just been thanked by the veteran who had shared his story before Ellie. By the table of coffee, two men had just realized they both came from the same, small, town in the midwest. It was in that moment that a veteran across the busy room — military jacket clad in pins and medallions — moved underneath one of the ceiling lights. The lamp shone down onto one of his pins and the shiny surface reflected the light from above, flashing across Ellie's eyes.

Her mind stoped. Her entire body froze. It was as if this giant, complex, assembly, of cogs and wheels had been spinning perfectly when someone abruptly jammed a metal rod in the middle of it, causing the entire mechanism to jolt to a stop, jerking viciously as it was trying to spin but couldn't.

Ellie flew back with a vicious cry, the folding chair beneath her being kicked to the side. Her hands were up ahead of her as if she was holding a rifle and she aimed for the veteran with pins across his chest and arms. The chair she had kicked away then lost balance from the sudden move and folded together only to slam against the floor with a loud bang. She let out another panicked grunt and aimed at the ground where the still piece of furniture laid before aiming back to the veteran.

"Sniper... Sniper..." She repeated the words to herself over and over. Her hair hung messily over her face and only one eye was peaking out, her head leaning against her arm as if looking through the scope of the rifle she knew to be holding. In her mind, it wasn't imaginary. She could feel the weapon in her hand. She could feel the coolness of the metal trigger against the pad of her right index. The room wasn't a room anymore but it was the desert, and in the distance there was mountains. In a small crevasse in the midst of the orange rocks there was the reflection of a sniper rifle scope, and she had her eyes locked on the enemy.

"Out." Sam called, eyes open wide and locked onto Ellie. As no one moved, he turned his attention to the twenty people still in the room. "I said get out."

People started to hurry for the doors. The only one that didn't seem to be in a rush was Bucky, who still sat in the chair that had been right next to hers. He looked at Ellie with parted lips and an empty stare as her head snapped from side to side as she paranoiacally saw more and more threats around her. His eyes moved to Sam for a moment who was just pushing out the last people through the door.

"Barnes..." Sam said after spotting Bucky still seated only a few feet away from Ellie, nudging his head towards to doors he stood by, hoping Bucky would get the hint and leave with the others.

"What's happening to her?" Bucky asked, eyes still on Ellie, or whatever was left of her with them since her mind was clearly elsewhere.

"PTSD..." Sam sighed, walking quickly cross the room to retrieve his phone. He knew it said nothing in the court order or the emails he had gotten associated to Ellie's case about how to deal with her episodes, but even though he knew that he wanted to double check.

"No, this is something else..." Bucky disagreed. He knew PTSD, and whatever Ellie was going through was not that.

"She's only here because she goes to jail otherwise." Sam said in a stressed tone, knowing he probably shouldn't share the information with Bucky. "She attacked a police officer during one of her episodes and either she comes here to try and get better or she goes to jail."

"What is she doing?" Bucky rose from his seat, taking a few steps back to give Ellie some room.

"The damn girl has spent five years assigned to amongst the most dangerous fields within the military and she's not even twenty five years old. I think you can imagine a couple of things that might have traumatized her." Sam spat back, almost a little annoyed by how ignorant Bucky seemed, even if that wasn't the case.

"Ellie?" Sam gave up on the emails he had received about her and instead walked up to her slowly, watching her every move to see her reaction. Her head snapped to him, the lines seen through her scope crossing one another in the center of Sam's head. Although there was no weapon and Ellie was the only one who could see it, even Sam could tell that her aim was impeccable. "Eleanor?"

She was still just mumbling the word "sniper" on an endless loop, eyes glazed over as she was looking at something completely different than what both Bucky and Sam were.

"Ellie? Can you hear me?" Sam kept trying to get some sort of contact, but she was so lost in her mind she couldn't even hear him. Bucky was quiet and simply observing the situation before him. He did try and imagine what Ellie had been through, and none of it was pleasant. He had never heard of someone so young being such a high rank and doing such serious missions, and it threw him off a little. When he looked at her it was as if his brain couldn't puzzle her and her military background together. She just looked like a normal girl.

"Ellie you need to calm down, okay? You're in the VA office, back home. You're not in the military right now." Sam continued his efforts in vain. She couldn’t hear him. She wasn’t even in the same country as him in her head. She was alone. Over intercom she heard her commanding officer every now and then, and in the distance there was the enemy, but other than that she was on her own.

“Target in sight, awaiting orders.” Ellie continued to mumble. Sam had struggled to catch what she had said, but Bucky had picked up on her radio message that she believed she was sending her officer. It gave him an idea, one that he didn’t run by Sam before testing.

“Abort. For Sergeant Conway, I repeat, abort. Target misidentified. That’s one of ours, Sergeant. Stand down. Over.” Bucky spoke with a sternness in his tone and his eyes remained locked on Ellie the entire time. Sam glanced between Bucky and Ellie, both surprised by Bucky’s initiative but also impressed by his clever idea, even if he’d never admit that to him.

“Sergeant Conway reporting. Copy that, standing...” Ellie began to blink quickly and her eyes slowly lost that emptiness in them that they’d just had. “Standing down... I...”

“Ellie?” Sam tried again, his voice low and soft as not to startle her in any way. “Are you alright?”

“I’m...” She felt light headed. She felt really light headed. Her vision was blurry and the room seemed to fade between the actual room in the VA office and the desert, patches of the scorching mountains blotting her field of vision before they slowly began to grow dark and blank. The now black patches continued to expand and covered more and more of the room before her until finally, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body seemed to have been turned off by a switch.

“Oh shit-“ Sam dashed forward to catch her limp body but it was Bucky who just barely managed to catch her in time before she would have crumbled helplessly to the ground. He quickly laid her on the floor and backed away, not comfortable being so close.

“I’m calling 911.” Sam sighed as he felt the worry slowly subside, even if it was still very much present. With her passed out, at least she didn’t have to suffer through the pain of embarrassment he knew she undoubtedly would have when she realized they had witnessed an entire episode of hers.

She remained unconscious for the twenty minutes it took the ambulance to arrive, and she had yet to awake when the paramedics loaded her into the back and shut the doors behind them before driving her to the hospital. Sam and Bucky remained standing in silence on the steps leading up the the entrance of the office after they’d taken her away, neither of them knowing what to say after the whole ordeal. Eventually, Sam admitted to how tired he was and that he just wanted to go home. He told Bucky to take care before they parted ways. Sam got into his car and drove off whilst Bucky decided to walk to his tiny apartment. It was a thirty minute walk, but he felt like he needed it. Seeing Ellie like that had somehow rattled him up a bit and an uneasy feeling nestled in the back of his mind.

Her mind and actions were not her own after the war she’d been fighting—a situation he found all too familiar for his liking. Perhaps they weren’t as different as he had first thought, him and Ellie?

So, as “usual” (can I still say that after having been away for over a year?) I love hearing what you think, so please do share your thoughts!