#I’m slap happy and I laughed for a full ten minutes until I cried and wheezed and sat on the floor

[aeterna-auroral-avenger]

[hyunjilicious]

what is and what should never be [bucky barnes]

A/n: ok, so. Im really fucking insecure about this. I literally poured my heart into this fic. I'm genuinely unhappy with the beginning, but I promise you, it gets better!! I don't have it in me to rewrite it for the 4th time. I really hope you'll still like it though. If you ask me, this is the best fic idea I even had. Please, please, if you enjoyed it, let me know!!!

Summary: It was you and Bucky. An unlikely couple that shared equally disturbed pasts. When you get a day off, your paradise turns into hell as Bucky's nightmares return, leaving you alone to deal with The Winter Soldier. (FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST) 12k

Warnings: 2 smut scenes - they're graphic but not extreme, fluff, angst, violence, mentions of death and suicide, blood, a fight scene - also quite graphic but it was written to serve the angst. I don't want to spoil the ending, but if you really connect with the characters, you will not hate me!!

This day had been long awaited. After months of back to back missions and endless efforts to climb up the greasy pole of US social standards, words failed to describe how ecstatic you were to know, that for the next 24 hours, your whole schedule would fully be in your hands.

You had the freedom to do just about anything you wanted, and the simple fact that the rest of the avengers left to deal with some paperwork excited you to no end. You woke up when it was time for them to take off, and made a snarky remark about heading to the gym - something along the lines of having a productive day centered on self development.

Just about 20 minutes later, you and Bucky, now also alone in the Stark Tower, decided to start off your day on the right foot. He offered to make protein smoothies as you changed into something comfortable and fitting for a workout, but neither of you got their job done.

You had no idea how that happened, but before you knew it you were wearing your sports bra and still had your pajama pants on, moaning on the counter of Tony's kitchen as Bucky had lodged himself between your legs, hungrily exploring the heated skin of your neck, peppering you with bruise marks that represented his adoration for you. "You heal fast anyway" he shrugged, pulling you closer and digging his teeth into your flesh, sucking profusely and eliciting an erotic moan from your lips. 

With every new hickey he left, another one would disappear, which in turn would make him even more frustrated, “The hell should I do? Tattoo hickeys on you!?” he groaned, moving up your neck. You caught his cheeks into your palms and kissed him back, smiling as he kept getting more and more aggravated. 

It didn't come as a surprise when the blender went berserk, splattering fruit pulp, almond milk and protein powder all over the pristine walls of the room - both of you have long forgotten about it. 

The way Bucky cleaned the mess was the epitome of not giving a shit, and you couldn't find it more endearing. He bitched and whined his way through the whole process, and tears formed at the corners of your eyes at the ridiculousness of the half assed job he just did. 

You eventually reached the gym - of course, against all your pouting and begging to put off this session. "Doll, you're the only avenger who can't fight. A punk on the street could snap your purse and there would be nothing you can do"

Wrong, he was not. You couldn't fight - but at the same time that didn't mean you were defenceless. It was your immense power that for months on end made your teammates consider you a liability. The energy that surged through your veins had been too great for you to handle, and in fact, it still was, but now, thanks to the joined efforts of Tony and Bruce, there was a way for that power to be contained. Their solution came in the form of two massive shackles wrapped around the length of your forearms. They were made of dimeritium and kept all kinds of energy from leaving your body. But, even so, that energy was in full form, buzzing inside every fiber of your being. And so, while wearing them you couldn't attack anyone, but there wasn't a way for them to harm you either. That field of energy protected you from every kind of damage and wounds you had ever encountered, ranging from fist fights to automatic rifles to guided grenades.

"I'm the only one that doesn't need to know" you huffed and puffed, annoyed but still determined to get this first training session done with.

But that never happened. Halfway through your warm up rounds, your teasing side awoke and it took you about ten minutes to go from batting your eyelashes and flaunting your ass, to nonchalantly cupping his cock into your hand.

No one could blame Bucky for not even trying to stop you. Bless him, he did everything he could, but he was never able to resist you. And probably never will be.

By the time you were done at the gym, both your bodies were coated in lecherous layers of sweat, no of them being from actually working out. It was only a matter of time until you managed to break his self control and he had you sprawled on all fours in the middle of the boxing ring, moaning your soul out as he pounded your pussy. 

The momentum made your whole frame rock back and forth, your hair falling around your face, "Holy fuck-" 

The room vibrated with the vulgar slaps he afflicted on your bare ass. You arched your back and cried his name out loud, "Come on, Bucky- I- harder please-"

"How are you already so needy?" he chuckled, caging your waist between his strong arms and pulling you up until your back reached his chest. "I ate this pussy this morning before we got out of bed"

"You know I love your tongue-" you giggled out of breath as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "But it doesn't compare to your cock"

"What does?" Bucky rhetorically questioned before picking up his pace. He kept slamming his hips into yours, fucking you at full force as with each thrust, his cock rammed against your walls hard enough to make you see stars.

"I'm really fucking close, Buck" you whined, feeling your knees start to refuse to maintain your weight any longer. 

"Don't cum yet" he panted, "Wait for me"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you cried out loud, liquid pleasure seeping out of you in the form of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please-" you whined, "I can't hold it anymore, I'm-"

"Not yet, baby" Bucky groaned, easily stopping you from wiggling around in his hold. His thrusts became sloppy and the orgasm got the best of him. He buried his face deep in your shoulder as his high forced guttural moans to rip from his throat. 

As he filled you up with his cum, as much as you wanted to comment about him making you wait and then not even bothering to tell you you could cum, you couldn't. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your chest heaved as the spiral of bliss seemed to go on and on, tons of ecstasy propagating in long painful waves across your body.

"Fuck-" Bucky panted as helped you up, "I could get used to days like this. We should retire"

"I'm not retiring-" you teasingly shook your head, "not until you find a way to give me a baby"

"I'd give you all the babies" he retorted, tugging your hand.

It caused you to lose your balance and stumble into his chest, "I love you"

"Love you" Bucky kissed the top of your head and spun you around. With his palms on your hips, he started guiding you towards the door, "Let's get you cleaned up"

And then, another wave of unproductivity followed. You showered, ordered pizza, whined about how there was still some smoothie left on the floor, and after you warned him about it, your face fell as Bucky stepped directly in the middle of the puddle of almond milk. He was fuming, the incident wiped any traces of happiness off his face. He mumbled something about that being the last pair of comfy socks he had left and something about Tony's devices being a constant pain in the ass. 

He went on and on until you ambushed him with kisses up his neck and shoved your hands under his shirt. In an instant his bickering turned into soft giggles as he innocently relaxed under your touch. You eventually cleaned up the mess and tried to make yourself busy. Nothing worked, you weren't in the mood for anything and at the same time, even though you did absolutely nothing all day, you felt a wave of tiredness envelop you.

At about 4pm, and you Bucky had already been lazily laying in bed, a mess of tangled limbs under the fluffy duvet. Your conversation started from the tactical gear he swore would look better on you than on him and then wondered how you didn't know how to sow.

"I'll hit you" you threatened.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, holding onto your forearm as it was resting on his chest, "But you know how much I love it when you get angry at my misogynistic jokes"

"It's rude" you scoffed - you didn't mean his jokes, but the fact that when he grew up, women were not anywhere near where they are today. 

"You know I don't mean it"

"I know you don't" you laughed, "Otherwise I'd have actually hit you"

"Don’t worry" Bucky said, "I'd hit myself if I was that stupid"

"Cute" you smiled, kissing his shoulder. Looking up at him, you promoted your chin against his chest, "Do you miss it? The 40s i mean"

He thought about it for a second. "Nah" there was a bit of nostalgia in his tone, but you believed him. "I've kinda made my peace with the fact that everyone from my old life is gone. I wouldn't want to go back now. I got you. I got all of you guys. I'm good now, really good"

"I'm glad" you beamed, feeling yourself warm up from the inside just thinking of the progress he made. After a few seconds, you spoke up again, "But what about the society? Like the day to day life? How do you like the 2010s?"

"I can't lie" Bucky laughed, "I liked Romania better. Much simpler."

"You lived in a dead beat apartment, hiding everyday" you scoffed, "How was that better?"

"I don't know… maybe it was the simple life. Apparently I'm all about that"

"You'd move back there?"

"If you came with me?" he questioned, looking down at you. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes and a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn’t even think twice"

"Maybe one day" you sighed with content. You snuggled back against his side, and closed your eyes. "We're not done avenging yet" you mumbled.

He didn't say anything to that. You didn't know whether he was getting lost in thoughts or if he was starting to drift off, but you would have been fine with either. When he spoke up again, you didn't expect the conversation to take this route.

"About Romania…" he sighed, "What made you come with Steve back in 2016?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he muttered, rubbing his light stubble, "I know why Steve came-" Bucky chuckled, "And Sam's all up his ass, so there's that. But what about you?"

"I-"

"I'm aware of the rift I caused between you guys back then. So that's why I'm asking. What made you stand by Steve from the beginning?"

"I knew how much you meant to him. And I know how this is going to sound, but I felt sorry for you, Buck. I know what it's like to be alone, to have everyone turn against you. You deserved better"

"Love-?" he called softly, his voice nearly breaking. "What do you mean you know what it's like to have everyone turn against you?"

As you maintained the eye contact, you felt tears prickle, "I know it wasn't fair of me to keep my past a secret, but-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he said softly, his eyes warm. The pain was readable on his features, he hated how your whole demeanour changed.

"It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just that I hate talking about it. Gives me nightmares."

"Then we can just drop it" Bucky murmured, gathering you closer.

"I wish you could know without me telling you" you laughed, "You make everything better and easier. I should've told you, I know. It isn't fair to you. We've been together for almost two years but as far as you're concerned I didn't exist until I joined the avengers. I don't even know how much they know. We never talked about it"

"Love, listen to me. I'm here whenever you want to talk about it. You didn't do anything wrong. There are a lot of things about me that you don't know either. We're not those people anymore. No one can blame us for trying to escape out past"

"Yeah, you're right" you sighed.

Gathering your power, you pushed yourself up and settled beside him, with your legs crossed. You grabbed his hand pulling it into your lap, and intertwined your fingers with his as you spoke.

"Forget the official story, there's no truth to it anyway"

"I really didn't believe your mum was a criminal and that you were in a mental asylum" he joked.

"Good-" you smiled, his words lifting the atmosphere a bit. "Truth is, I don't know anything about my parents. But I have my assumptions. I grew up in that soviet facility so I never met them. I was told it was owned by a group of socialite scientists who wanted our help"

"Our? Who's we?"

"There were 7 of us"

"Did they have the same power as you?"

"Approximately. When we were younger, we used to comply and do everything we were told but as we grew up, things started to change. We weren't happy. Who could be? Considering we were being held in cells and studied like lab rats. We started to act differently and some might even say we tried to rebel, but that didn't work obviously, and that's when the restrictions began. For the last 3 years I spent there, there hadn't been a day where the temperature passed 0°C." 

Your skin crawled as you recaled the endless nights you spent shivering your way to sleep. Everything around you was ice cold. But it wasn't for the sole purpose of torturing you. It was your only weakness. As the temperature dropped, so did the movement of the atoms that made up your body - eliminating your powers to the point where you were barely alive. 

"One day, as spring came, we wanted to break out. We made a plan, and figured that as soon as we were out, we'd be fine. We were wrong. We were off about the weather and they got us before we even exited the perimeter. That's when the avengers heard about us."

By now, Bucky's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity, his mouth agape as he took in the information you provided. With every word you spoke his grip tightened around your fingers and his eyebrows gathered even further. There was discomfort and anger in his features, but he didn't interrupt you once.

"After that, the restrictions got tougher. We realised there was no way out. A lot of things came together in that small time frame. I realised what that place actually was days after we tried to escape. My friends - or that's what I thought they were, figured out another plan. Why fight when you can just eliminate the premise?"

Bucky moved his lips but no words came out. He cleaned his throat and sat up a bit, "What- what do you mean?"

"They tried to kill me" you said, plastering a sympathetic smile on your lips, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear.

"What the fuck. Why?"

"I think my dad used to be part of that team. And I think he made me the way I am. Now I don't know why he wasn't around anymore, but that team wasn't trying to get us to do anything. They were trying to make more of me. So if I was dead-"

"There would be no reason to keep the other kids…" Bucky finished the sentence for you.

You nodded.

"And what happened?"

You bowed your head trying to find a way to put your words together. Bucky didn't rush you, just reassuringly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, waiting. When a tear from your cheek slipped and landed on the back of his hand, you looked up and took a deep breath. "I killed them. All of them."

He didn't say anything. Didn’t move a muscle, as he waited for you to continue. 

"I didn't even want to do that, Buck" you sobbed, breaking down. "I killed over 20 people because I was afraid. I didn't even move. I was in the corner of my room the whole time, but everyone who approached me was fried to death. I don't even know how I did that. I was just scared"

"Oh, baby" Bucky cooed, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you. You fell against his chest, crumbling in his embrace. "I hope you know that was not your fault, ok?" he asked, rubbing your back. "You were just a kid, alone and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart, those bastards. Please don't feel sorry for them"

"I feel sorry for the other kids"

"They tried to kill you, Y/n" Bucky countered, "If you hadn't killed them, I would've gone after them. All of them"

"They were desperate..."

"So were you!"

"I can't help but feel like a monster sometimes, you know? Like I'm reckless and out of control. There are times when I'm all happy and excited about what tomorrow would bring, and then i remember what I did, and I have a hard time fighting away the thoughts that try to tell me I don't deserve that"

"What you deserve is the fucking world ok?" Bucky said, tilting your chin so you could see just how serious he was. "This past couple of years, you saved hundreds of lives and I know for a fact you did it out of the pure kindness of your heart, not because you wanted to make up for anything in the past. You're a fucking angel. You're the embodiment of good, you hear me? I know you. You'll never understand how much respect I have for you, and how in awe I am with the kind of person you are. Please, don't ever think less of yourself. Ever, ok?"

Tears rolled down your cheeks as his words proved to be much more than you were able to hear at that moment. "Thanks, Buck. That's sweet of you to say-"

"It's not sweet of me to say, it's the fucking truth" he scoffed, but he somehow managed to make it sound loving. "You didn't even fucking try, but just being around you made me feel like a person again. You're amazing, Y/n. We're all lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you."

"You're gonna make me cry" you sniffled, curling yourself into a ball against his chest, "I know you were in a dark place when we met. I'm glad I managed to help you through it"

"You pulled me through it" he sighed, tightening his hold around you. "I went from wanting to die, to thinking that I didn't even deserve the easy way out. Look at me now."

"Buck, stop"

"I love you so fucking much" Bucky laughed. 

His whole frame shook as he pulled you back down, safely holding you between his arms, "You're amazing" he added, kissing the top of your head, "Perfect"

"I said, stop" you chuckled, slapping his side, "I get it, you like me, can we-"

"I adore you" Bucky cut you off after grabbing the sides of your face between his palms. "And thanks for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about your past, so thank you. I'm always here for you. If there's anything ever, I got you, ok? Forever"

"I got you too" you added, kissing his cheek and then moving along his jawline, "No matter what happens, you'll always have me on your side. I'm all yours, Bucky"

"Yeah, you are, doll. All mine"

After that talk, how you managed to fall into a deep sleep will always remain a mystery. Nightmares didn't make their way into your mind, and you settled for a dreamless slumber, actually fully content for the first time in a long while.

But not everybody processed grief the same way. And if Bucky mentioned earlier that he was lucky to have you, as you were pulled out of your sleep, you realised that he wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to the mysteries that creep up on you when you least expect them.

-

"Wake up sunshine"

The sound reached your ears, but it wasn't Bucky's voice, so you just groaned in response and rolled over to the other side, completely pressing your face into the pillow.

"Buttercup, it's time to wake up"

The voice seemed uneasy, as if the person speaking was actually terrified. You opened your eyes wearily, and were met with the usual, complete darkness of your room. 

"Come on, Y/n" they spoke again. You turned to see one of Tony's maintenance robots hovering above your body, one small screen lit up on its front. Blinking a few times to rid yourself of the sleep still lingering in your eyes, you managed to make out the faces of Tony and Steve, both staring at you.

"What's going on?" you mumbled.

"You've got incoming," Tony announced, and then shook his head at whatever someone next to him had said. The microphone wasn't performant enough for you to hear what the other person said, but it was not like you cared.

"Incoming what?" you questioned, still confused out of your mind.

He turned his attention back to you, "The asshole"

You frowned and Steve scoffed, "Y/n, it's Bucky. He's not well"

"Wh-" you mumbled, your head snapping to the side, only then realising his side of the bed was empty. You shuffled your arm around the sheets, still warm. "What- what happened?"

"He's gone rogue, Y/n" Steve announced, genuine worry and guilt audible in his voice, "You need to make sure he doesn't leave. You need to stop him"

Tony's workstation. You needed to get the shackles off your arms if you wanted to stand a chance, "Tony? How do I take these off?" you asked, pointing to your cuffs.

"Already taken care off" he nodded, "Get to my desk, it's unlocked. All you need to do is actually get there. If you can"

"If I can-?" you began asking, but a loud explosion sound cut you off, causing the bed to shake as a wind blew through your room. "What the fuck!?"

"He may have found the grenade launchers" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Y/n," Steve called for you, "Please, be careful. And call us. Me and Nat will take the jet but I don't know-"

"Don't worry" you shook your head, jumping off the bed and rushing to your closet. You chose the first clothes you saw laying before your eyes and put them on, ready to go look for Bucky. "I got this, I promise"

"Oh, and Y/n?" Tony said, making you turn to him at the last minute, "Try not to fry my tower"

You nodded and refrained from making any promises you didn't know you could keep. 

As soon as you walked out the door, the sound of automatic rifles going off became deafening. Stepping over piles of broken glass, you made your way to the emergency staircase, heading to Tony's lab. You did so with maximal caution, knowing that if you were spotted, there would be no going back.

Descending the last remaining flight of stairs until his work station, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, knowing just how close you were. Silently rounding the corner, your eyes landed on Bucky's frame, easily holding one of the remaining SHIELD agents up by the neck.

He turned to look at you, eyes cold and empty. Not even rage. There was nothing there. No expression, no empathy, no feeling. It was as if he was dead. This wasn't him. 

"Buck-" you panted, raising your hands up in the air, signaling surrender. You eyed Tony's desk, determined to stall him until you managed to free yourself of the cuffs.

You took a cautious step to the side, hands still up in the air. Bucky watched you as the man struggled against his hold, legs spasming uncontrollably as he kicked and squirmed, even though it was so clearly in vain.

"Don’t mind me-" you smiled, sweat flooding your pores as you slowly approached your destination. "I'll just-"

"You'll just what-?" Bucky groaned, flinging his victim with impeccable ease. The agent's body flew across the room, crushing into the only device that had the power to help you get through this. As the work station crumpled under his weight, so did your hopes of getting out of this. 

"Bucky, hey-" you mumbled, afraid of pissing him off, "I-"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he frowned, starting to march towards you. Your blood ran cold, knowing you didn't have what it took to keep up with him. You were never able to dodge anyone's blows, let alone his. When he reached you, his hand instantly reached around your neck, lifting you off the floor, "SHIELD?" he asked after taking a look at your attire. Although not carrying the emblem, it was probably the only explanation that made sense to him.

"Well, um-" you huffed, holding onto his wrist in hopes of not running out air, "No, not SHIELD"

"Then who are you?" he growled, tightening his hold on your windpipe.

"Fuck-" you gasped, kicking your legs, even through he didn't even flinch when you hit him. "You're not gonna believe this but, um-"

"Try me"

You looked into his eyes, hoping it would serve as some kind of a memento, that maybe he'd remember you. "You know me, Buck. It's Y/n, I'm- your girlfriend?"

Even saying it made you feel weird. This killing machine, apparently hell bent on wrecking havoc, was not the man you loved, and you cringed just imagining his reaction to hearing your words.

And it did turn out to be worse than expected, as he spun around, doing a complete 180° with your body before slamming you down on the floor. The wood cracked under your bones, knocking the wind out of you. The pain of the impact was excruciating, propagating along your body in waves of some physical agony you had never felt before. The sound of your bones cracking made you sick to your stomach. Your ears caught the sound of your arteries being torn as your organs collapsed.

And if you felt every inch of your body being shattered and destroyed, it was God's way of making you pay for your parent's mistakes, as when your wounds healed mere seconds later, the pain did not go away. Your nerve receptors still registered damage to the tissues, and no matter whether you were actually as good as new, your brain couldn't process that.

What consumed you the most was the fact that as you struggled to stand up, the pain of broken limbs lingered on. But you fought through it, gathered yourself and stood up, facing him again.

You winced with every muscle contraction, but eventually your eyes met his. He showed curiosity, along with something else. Something else which you wished wasn't determination to finish you.

"Can we-" you whimpered, extending a hand, "Can we talk?"

"Talk!?" Bucky raged, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm to the point where he spun you around, your back pressing against his chest. "Not here to talk" he growled into your ear.

The hairs on your body stood as you heard his voice. Even though it was technically the same voice you loved more than anything in the world, it made you now shiver with a fear you've never experienced before. 

You didn't get a chance to sink too deep in your thoughts before Bucky raised your arm, dislocating your shoulder and busting your humerus into pieces. The pain cut your legs at the knees and you screamed in agony, falling to the floor at his feet.

"Stand up" he commanded, slamming his foot into your side. The momentum made your body roll away, until you settled back on the ground, face deep in the rubble. Your muscles pulled you to your feet with ease, but the pain coursing through you was immense, nowhere near close to what you thought bearable. You felt the skin being ripped from your body and when you looked down, your clothes were torn, soaked in blood, but your skin was intact. It was what you needed to keep going - to get inside your head the fact that you were fine, because at this point, the pain was one bruise away from making you faint.

"Bucky, please-" you cried.

"Stop calling me Bucky!" he yelled, starting to approach you again.

With every step he took, you slowly backed away. "Please, listen to me, just a second, please!"

He shook his head no, a demented smile on his lips as he closed in on you.

"Bucky-"

As a reply to your question, his fist flew up, slamming into your jaw, hard enough to throw you to the ground, "Why do you keep calling me-"

"What else do you want me to call you, huh?" you yelled at him, vision blurred under too many layers of tears. "Tell me, and I'll do it if it'll get you to listen to me."

"I don't want you to call me anything-" he cocked his head to the side, unstrapping a handgun from his thigh. He loaded it as you barely managed to crawl away, "You can take the pain. I respect that. Let's see how well you do with these lead bullets"

You saw them in slow motion, barely managing to duck your head behind the remains of what once was a heavy wooden bookshelf. The bullets missed your chest and face, but you saw them, felt them penetrate your skin, ripping through your muscles. 

The sound of your tissues being pulled to shreds made you feel sick to your stomach. As the bullets left your body, your wounds closed back up, leaving you a crying mess on the floor. Your throat constricted due to the wave of shock that hit your body, and your lungs started hyperventilating. Lightheaded and gasping for air, you struggled to crawl away from him, tears marching down your face and ending up on the floor, nothing but diluting the droplets of blood that had fallen from your body mere minutes before. Your heart was in overdrive and your vision blurred as every fiber of your being threatened to let you down. "Please-" you screamed, your voice breaking as you raised your hand for him, "Let's talk, please. That's all I want. Give me a minute"

But he didn't. He didn't even consider it. Instead, the force that controlled the body of the only man that ever managed to make you feel safe, tortured, destroyed and consumed your body for what felt like the better part of an eternity.

You had been thrown through walls, shattered windows, had glass shards lodged into your body from all angles. He unloaded cannon after cannon on you, used up all the ammo he had on him, only growing more and more annoyed when you refused to give up.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. Now you were standing by the window, inches away from the spot where two nights ago, you and Bucky clicked your glasses, smiling at how far you both had come. He laughed, saying he wouldn't have made it without you. And then he kissed you, confessing that the thought that maybe you couldn't have made it without him either, was what kept him going. 

And then there you were. 48 hours later, again, just the two of you. But now there weren't any champagne glasses between you, just his metal arm, wrapped around your neck, this time, as he said, for the last time.

"I don't get it-" he scowled, teeth gritted and frustration in his voice, "Why don't you fight me?"

"I can't fight you" you whimpered as your tears poured down against his cold hand, "And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"WHY?" Bucky screamed, and for a second, you thought you saw a crack there, a glister of emotion hidden deep in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

"Because I love you" you cried.

But there was none. He rolled his eyes and pushed you back, your body slamming into the window. You should've thought faster, been more witty and considerate, but terror washed over you and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed onto him for dear life, pulling him down with you, plummeting to the ground from what looked like the 70th floor of the Stark Tower. 

If until now you had been afraid of what you'd have to endure, it was now that you met true terror. You'd survive the fall, but he wouldn't. 

Even in the air, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed, he kept fighting you. Even in this state, you admired his determination - he had a job and wanted to get it done - even if that job was killing you. A man of his word.

By now, the pain was unnoticeable. If you wanted to keep him alive you had to act fast. Clinging to his body despite his vicious protests and ruthless blows, you used your momentum to turn the two of you around. And you did so at the last second, as before you knew it, your bodies crashed into the boulevard below, sinking down into the asphalt as it crumpled under your weight. 

The impact cut your breath away and there was a gnawing feeling all over your body, as if you had blades under your skin, pulling your body apart fiber by fiber. But you snapped out of it.

"Bucky!" you yelled, slapping his cheek.

He had fallen completely on top of you, his head pressed against your chest. He didn't move and the continuous buzz in your ears made it physically impossible for you to tell whether he was breathing for not.

"Bucky, please-" you cried, trying to move him so you could see his face. 

Nothing.

"No, no, no!!" you screamed, "You can't die, baby, please! Not like this, love. Please come back to me, Buck, I'm begging you!!"

You remained there and wailed, with him glued to your chest. Your arms had wrapped around his motionless frame, keeping him as close as you could. Nothing could have gotten you to stop. Tens of people gathered around the crater your fall created around your bodies, police showed up, cameras were pointed at your faces, but you didn't care. If he died, so would you. 

"You're all I have, baby-" you muttered, voice hoarse and dry from all the wailing and crying, "Please, you can't leave me. This can't be the end of us. Please, I don't know what to do, Bucky, please!"

You were soaked. In blood, and you didn't even know whether it was his or yours. God, how you hoped it all belonged to you, how the pool of blood you laid in was all yours. Tears soaked your face, pouring down your temples as your whole frame shook with your sobs, that was the true agony. You'd rather spend the rest of your days fighting for your life if it meant he got to see the sun again. You wished he'd hate you, rather than not feel anything at all ever again.

"Please-" you said again but this time your voice didn't even reach your own ears, you didn't hold that power anymore, "Please, you need to come back! You deserve so much better than this. You're the best man I have even known, you can't die like this, not today, Bucky. Not today!"

By now, the people around you had scattered. They knew your identities and for all the wrong reasons, feared you both. You were grateful for that now, you were alone with him again, as the sun began to set and a chilly New York night began to settle. 

Still, you didn't move. You still had faith. Or you were just stubborn. There was no way you'd pull away until someone either pried him off of you against your will, or someone that you trusted showed up promising they'd help.

None of them came, and you remained there, cradling his frame to your chest begging whatever God was listening, to bring him back. You didn't know if one of them heard you, or if it was just blind luck or fate, but you only realised his metal arm was lodged under your body when he moved it.

"Buck!" you cried, cupping his cheeks in your bloodied palms as literal life cursed through your veins. "Oh god, you're ok, you're alive!! You came back to me!"

You managed to hug him close one more time, before he pushed himself off of you. In the process of standing up, his eyes met yours for the briefest second. Again, nothing.

He gathered himself to his feet, wordlessly bending down to grab your hair. He forced you up and you instantly obliged, following him back into the building.

Once inside, he knocked you through a glass door, your body once again absorbing his fury. The pain had dissipated into a dull ache, and this time, you stood up faster. "I can do this all day" you sighed, the lie slipping past your lips with such ease, as if the energy inside your core wasn't running dangerously low.

"What did you just say?" he questioned.

He seemed taken aback, "I said that I can do this all day"

"Who are you?" Bucky yelled, marching towards you, determined to get answers out of you through nothing else but brute force. He slammed you back onto the floor, only to straddle your thighs and pick you up by the collar of your shit. "Why won't you just fucking die!?"

Circling your fingers around his wrists, you searched for his eyes, "Wanna know what keeps me alive?"

"Are you stupid enough to tell me?"

"I might be" you shook your head, "but I'll still tell you"

"Why?"

"Because I know you won't kill me" you cried, "I know you know me. I know you're in there somewhere. The man I love. I know you don't have it in you to kill me"

"Try me" he laughed, drunk with the power you were so willing to give him.

"These-" you panted, raising your arms in the air to show him your cuffs, "These are what's been keeping me alive but I know you won't-"

But you never finished the sentence. He didn't even think twice before ripping them off your arms and throwing them onto the floor, along with all the other mess you two had made.

You never thought he'd actually spare you. So it wasn't a surprise when the first thing he did after freeing you, was reach for his knife with the sole purpose of driving it through your chest.

But you were faster. You framed his face into your palms, releasing the energy from your body and allowing it to flow through his. It felt weird, wrong and chaotic, and the power surge wiggled itself out of your control, until a blast between your bodies sent you both flying back across the room, falling down onto the floor.

And this time none of you stood up.

-

"I leave them alone for what, a day?" Tony sighed, walking out of his Iron Man suit. 

"Holy shit!" Steve cried out, his knees betraying him as he tried to rush to you.

"No, wait!" Nat stopped him, "You can't wake them up until we get them somewhere safe. We need to make new cuffs for Y/n, and find a way to keep Bucky contained in case, you know… he's still not Bucky"

Steve was fuming with anger, nostrils flaring, "These are my friends you're talking about!" he exclaimed, pointing to your bodies on the floor, "Your friends too, Nat. You see them like this and the first thing you think about is restraining them!?"

"We need to make sure we're all safe" she sighed with sympathy, grabbing his hand for a comforting rub.

"You make sure you're safe-" Steve scoffed, "I'll make sure they're alive"

"Hey-" Nat stopped him, "If you touch her and startle her in any way, you die!"

Her words hurt him but he knew you never would. Steve felt his heart shutter just imaging what you must have gone through. He was ablaze with pure determination to prove Nat wrong, and to do right by you and Buck. "I carried her in my arms while she was passed out when we rescued her from that facility-" he fummed, pointing at you, "She never knew a man that didn't try to hurt her before. And when she woke up, she was afraid. Scared for her life. She cried in my arms and begged me to not let them take her again! She was never anywhere close to hurting me! She's good. So good. There's only good inside of her, I trust her to not hurt me more than I trust myself, ok? If I'm wrong, so be it. I die. I don't care. She deserves someone to look after her. If I had to chose, saving her would be the way I'd want to go"

His rant left Nat speechless. She just gave him a simple nod and stepped back. 

Carefully, he picked you up and carried you upstairs, as Tony put his suit back on and carried Bucky.

-

Never in your life had you woken up this fast. Your eyes snapped open and you sprung to your feet. 3 pairs of anxious eyes watched you, all of them ready to jump into action in case the situation called for an intervention.

"What-" you gawked, scanning the room, "Where is Bucky? Is he- is-"

"He's fine, Y/n" Steve assured you. He stood up and slowly approached you, arms outstretched. Your first instinct was to go for it, but when you reached him, you placed both your hands in his, and looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, "Can I see him?"

Sympathy took over his features, but Tony jumped in, "Absolutely not"

"What-" you turned to him, "Why? Did I-?"

"You didn't do anything wrong" Steve hummed, engulfing you in a hug even though you remained stiff in your spot. He rubbed your back, eager to soothe your worried mind, but you were too out of it.

“Can I just go?” you whispered, pulling back just enough so that he could see how serious you were, “I need to see him, please”

“Are you mad at him?” Nat asked with caution and your face fell.

“No!” you gasped, stepping away from Steve’s embrace, “No, not even one bit. I know that was not him, I know it’s not his fault. But when Bucky wakes up-”

“If he wakes up-” Tony sneered, roaming around the room. He nursed a glass of whiskey, as a mixture of disgust and exhaustion was readable on his features. 

“When he wakes up!” you spoke through gritted teeth. Determination coated your words and the hairs on your body stood as you refused to even think of the alternative. “He will wake up. And I have to be there”

“What if the Winter Soldier wakes up?” Nat asked.

“That didn’t stop me last time”

“Oh, no!” Tony butted in, stepping in between you and Nat, arms outstretched, “You know I’m not one to cry after money, but you and your pal left me with $37 million worth of damage. You two are one broken cup away from getting thrown into the streets”

The sum he mentioned made the skin on your back crawl. You didn’t even have $37 dollars to your name, but it made sense. Your body alone crashed through three TV’s, one gamma ray projector and if you thought about it, you remembered Bucky pulling apart one of the Iron Legion robots, and only the thought made you flinch. 

“So-” Tony said, “You two? Never in the same room again!”

“Take these off then” you suggested, pointing at the cuff on your wrists.

“Ha” Tony exclaimed, “A big chunk of that money comes from you frying all my electronics up until the 12th floor. Absolutely not”

“Tony, I’m serious” you whined, “He will hate himself. I need to be there! I need to make sure he doesn’t take all the blame on his shoulders”

He frowned, and sighed. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and you hoped that core deep inside his chest really made up for a heart. And… it did. None of them were happy about it, but they finally accepted. Nat and Tony would have never probably given up if it wasn’t for Steve - right now, like so many times before, he really did seem like your guardian angel.

They ended up monitoring the room, and Tony waited for your signal, one hand on his cigarette, the other on the Iron Man suit. He was all talk - if anything was to go down and you would actually be in danger again, he wouldn’t even think twice before tearing his towers into pieces if it meant he could get you out alive.

And so you left, thanked them in the form of a simple nod, and headed down the dark hallways.

Oh, how you hated this.

What consumed you now had nothing to do with the pain you had endured in the past 24 hours. Its source was not physical, yet your whole body ached. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in some way, it was - Bucky was your whole world, and the fear of losing him breathed down your neck.

It had been about 20 minutes since you stopped in front of the door that led to the room he'd been confined in. When FRIDAY announced that Bucky woke up, you rushed over, only for a hazardous sense of anguish to stop you dead in your tracks. Judging by the way he sat in the corner of the room, his fingers aimlessly tracing every indentation in the handcuffs Tony had restrained him with, you had no problem telling which one of him woke up. He broke your heart. His room was equipped with 5 different cameras and 2 microphones. Completely unaware of them, he sat inches away from one, and your heart shattered, sinking 3 stories below when you heard him whimper.

It was soft and quiet. His whole frame shook as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was hunched down, brown hair covering his perfect face, but still, his sadness brought you to tears. 

You heard him again. He sniffled as he laid back against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, lips almost white and dry as his chest raced up and down. His muscles clenched and his feet bounced against the metal floor, it was a sight you never wished you see ever again. 

Softly, you raised a hand, and thought twice before finally knocking.

"Go away," Bucky called, voice all hoarse and dry as it broke halfway through.

You were able to see him on the small screen next to the door, but he had no idea who came to visit.

Out of instinct, you knocked again before typing in the password and ever so slowly walking inside.

Instantly, he looked up. He was surrounded by an air of darkness and despair, ever so obviously tormented to the peak of his capability.

He stared at you for a few seconds as his eyes watered, and then he gathered his lips into a straight line, shaking his head. "Please, go"

"Bucky, I-"

"Please" he cried, head falling forward as he toyed with the metal edges of his prosthetic arm. He shook his head, "Please, don't do this. Just, go"

You took a deep breath, only then entering the room far enough to actually be able to close the door behind you. Slowly turning back to him, your palms sweated as you had no idea what to say to him. 

"Can you talk to me, Buck? Please?"

He chuckled, "About what?" 

"About whatever it is you think you did wrong, I-"

As he heard your words, his hands instantly flew up to cover his face. He was, however, stopped, as the cuffs on his left wrist kept him from moving too much. While a new row of tears flooded his cheeks, his eyes met yours, "Look at me.. I need to be restrained while you're alone with me"

"Those cuffs would literally do nothing to stop you from escaping, and you know it"

"Maybe it's just a sense of reassurance"

"To who?" you scoffed.

"To them" Bucky responded, nodding his head towards one of the cameras. "I'm a monster" he added, wiggling his cuff restrained hand, "I'm a danger to everyone"

"Oh for fucks sake" you rolled your eyes, marching up to him. With absolutely no remorse, you grabbed his hand and harshly pulled apart the metal that had him restrained to the bed. Before he got a chance to say anything, you bent down, unclipped the microphone from the foot of the bed, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it, until it was nothing but a small pile of shattered plastic.

And you kept going, destroying the second microphone along with the 5 cameras on the walls as Bucky watched you with surprise. You finished by going for the door and locking it from the inside. "You think I'm afraid of you?" you asked softly, "For 6 hours you did your best to kill me and failed miserably. Look at me, I'm unscathed"

"Did you hear yourself?" he cringed, shaking his head, "I tried to kill you"

"Ok, I know I said that you did your best-" you said, mentally scolding yourself for the error in communication. "We both know that wasn't you. That wasn't you, Buck. It was Hydra. It was the winter soldier, not you. My Bucky would never-"

"Y/n-" he stopped you, "I know you don't see things the way I do-"

"But I see them the right way"

"Listen-" Bucky sighed, driving his hands through his hair. For the first time that night you actually saw his full face, his cheek and signature scowl, his blue eyes and the tilt of the corner of his mouth - your soul melted when you associated the picture with the words that came out of his mouth. "I can't blame you for being here. I can't. If the roles were reversed, I'd be doing the exact same thing. But, holy fuck-" he sighed, pausing to gather his thoughts. Bucky looked you up and down. His lips quivered and his head fell to the side as a sad smile appeared on his lips. "Remember this morning? How we talked about our hypothetical child?" he laughed and shook his head, "Even if I know we could never have a kid because we're both sterile, it was still the most beautiful thought that ever crossed my mind, Y/n''

"Mine too, Buck-"

"And what did I do?" he dismissed your empathy, "Two hours later I was unloading an AK-47 into your stomach, like the brainwashed maniac that I am!"

"Don’t say that!" you exclaimed, "Don't you dare think about things like this!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he threw his hands up in the air, "What does it matter whose fault it is? I get to live with the consequences."

"But-" you breathed out, "We can work through this. You did it before. You can't let something that hydra did dictate your life, Bucky. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be happy!"

"I tried to kill you!" he screamed, for the first time losing his calm and standing up to be at the same level as you.

"That was not you!"

"So what?" he huffed, "I was there, Y/n! I will never, NEVER get the feeling of crushing your bones out of my head! I felt your neck snap! I choked you with my arms! That is not something I can live with! I can't live a life by your side if every time I look at you I'm reminded of those horrible things I did to you!"

"Buck-" you cried, looking at him from behind too many layers of unshed tears, "Please, don't say that"

"I'm sorry" he responded in the same fashion, his pain coating every word he said. "When I close my eyes I see you laying in a puddle of blood. I can't stop hearing your screams of agony. Agony that no matter how you put it, was caused by my hands. That's not something we can live with, Y/n. You were not made for this. You really do fucking deserve someone that won't wake up one day and try to murder you in cold blood"

"And what do you deserve, Buck?" you quietly asked, searching for his eyes, "To live your life alone? Forever? If you had been with anyone else, this would have turned out so much worse. That cute barista three blocks down that always scribbles a heart on your coffee cup? She's cute, yeah. You deserve to be loved by someone, but if that someone was her, you wouldn't be drowning in guilt right now, Bucky, you'd be mourning her. Yes, you got troubles. Yes, you've got a past more fucked up than anyone else I have ever heard about. That's the kind of shit you can't change. But whatever you do from now on, is in your fucking hands and yours alone. Don't try to tell me you're not worthy of having someone, because that's the fattest load of crap I've ever heard. You're a good man! With a fucked up past! And a dark side that you need to fight! And you have me! I don't care you dropped Tony's piano on my legs, apparently I can take it! I'm here for you no matter what! You don't want to be with me anymore? Fine. But don't you dare push me away, thinking that a ruined future makes up for a ruined past"

"Who's to say I won't try it again?" he asked, "I don't know what triggered the transition. But what if once a week I end up trying to kill you-"

"Apparently you can't!" you laughed bitterly.

"Ok, so I can't" he nodded in approval, "Is that what you want? I should be your rock, your best friend, I should always be there for you. Do you want to have your whole world turned upside down whenever my brain decides to go berserk?"

"See, Buck" you sighed, "Of course I don't want that. I can't fucking stand here and tell you that I do. What kind of credibility would I have then? But you know what I want? You. You and whatever nazi shit that comes along. I want you. To help you. To have you with me. To see you everyday. If every Saturday at 10am you decide you want to kill me, you best believe I'm sacrificing my morning coffee just so we can kung fu around the living room"

He looked at you for a long second, the corners of his lips fighting a hard battle against the hint of a smile that started to show on his features. Eventually he caved and chuckled, shaking his head, "That was a bit funny"

"And fucking true," you cried, going for his hands and bringing them up to your chest. He winced, but you spoke up again, determined to not let his mind torture him.

"I love you, Bucky"

"How do you not hate me?" he choked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you seriously look at me and not get even the slightest instinct to run away?"

"Bucky..." you breathed out, cupping his cheek. "How could I run away when I've never seen you in more pain than right now?"

"You're an angel, you know that?" 

"I've been called a lot of things" you giggled, "Angel isn't one of them, but if that's what you want, I'll take it"

"Come here" he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had you nuzzle against his chest, his hold keeping you tight and secure. His heart beat against your cheek and your eyes watered again. There wasn't one thing in the world you wouldn't do for that heart - to make sure it keeps beating, and that it keeps the man you love alive. And content, above all. All you wanted right now was for him to accept the things that happened. You wanted to take whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders, and put it upon yourself. "I love you so much, Bucky" you cried against his chest as your hold tightened around him, "I hate to see you torn like this. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. It terrifies me. I love you with all that I am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You deserve the world, baby"

"So do you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You felt his chest shake, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of his lungs. You looked up to see him fight back a sob, his eyes wide open, glossy and red, trained down on you, "I love you too much to do this, Y/n. I'm sorry, I don't think I can"

"No!" you gasped, pressing your face back against his shoulder, "Don't do that. You can't do that. No"

"We won't work, Y/n" Bucky said as he brought you even closer, "I can't look at you anymore. I can't look at you without dying inside. You don't want to live with me like that"

"Yes, I do!" you sobbed. "I'll work with anything you give me, I swear there is nothing more I want. Just you. Just you and me. Bucky, please don't do this"

He held you close for what felt like half a second, but rationally speaking, your legs were getting numb. You just stood there, clinging to his body, taking in his scent and listening to his breathing even out until he pushed you away. Oh, how you didn't want to let go. Ever. But you did, and choked back a sob as soon as you felt the cold air of the room brush against the part of your body that had been pressed to his.

"We should get some sleep, Y/n"

"Are you coming with me?" you whimpered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

Bucky shook his head, "I think I'll just sleep here tonight"

That broke you. The shock and terror cut your breath away. It felt impossible - the feeling of losing him. The amount of pain that surged through you. At that particular moment, you felt like cracking your chest open to grip your heart into your hand and pick apart the broken parts. But not even that felt good enough, you were fairly sure you'd be left with nothing. It felt like a slap across your cheek, like a cloth had been placed over your mouth and your legs cut at the knees. It felt like the end. 

Optimistic by nature, not even you could deny the reason he wanted to sleep alone. It was clear as day.

"If-" you mumbled, tears coating your face at their own free will, voice shaking as you barely managed to articulate the words over the violent sobs that ripped their way out of your throat. "If I promise to not do anything to try and convince you to stay… can you promise me that in case you decide to leave, you'll come and tell me first?"

"Oh, doll" Bucky broke down all over again, throwing himself at you again. He collapsed on top of you, molding his body around yours. "I promise, angel"

You just nodded. That was all you could do. It took another few moments for you to gather yourself and stop wailing, but you did, and then, with nothing else other than a sad smile, you left. 

Your feet carried you to your room, and you were ready to collapse on top of your bed. Eager to cuddle into his pillows. They smelled like that shower gel you got him and you hated it. You wanted his scent. Not even caring how ridiculous it sounded, you padded over to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, the one Bucky uses to discard all his worn clothes. 

You wanted to find a shirt he wore, one that smelled exactly like you knew him, but before you reached the clothes pile, your attention was drawn to the window.

Steve was standing there, facing the busy streets outside, hands in his pocket and his head turned in your direction.

"I didn't see you, sorry" you gasped, as your eyes accommodated to the darkness.

"It's fine" he shook his head, "I just figured you'd turn on the lights, you know, like the normal people. Didn't think I'd scare you"

"Yeah, sorry" you sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "I did even think about turning the lights on"

He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod. He knew your pain. He lost enough in his life, and seeing his best friend sink back into his darkness was surely not easy for him either.

"Is he ok?" Steve eventually asked.

You shook your head, "He's too good of a man to be ok"

"That is Bucky" he laughed, and you couldn't help but do the same. The irony.

Steve's curiosity was palpable in the room. Words could not describe the appreciation you had for him for respecting your boundaries and not pushing you in a moment like this. But he deserved to know.

You opened your mouth to explain to him what happened, but as your mind processed everything all over again, you broke down. "I think he's gonna leave-" you cried.

Steve was quick to gather you in his arms, engulfing you in a bear hug, helping you stand on your own two feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, concern tracing his tone.

"I understand him, I do. And I promised I won't try to get him to stay if he doesn't want to. But- but I should've done more, Steve. I should've shown him somehow how much I love him. But I'm afraid he'll leave, and I don't want to live-"

"Hey, hey, hey" Steve hurried to stop you, petting your head softly before urging you to look up at him. "Bucky loves you more than I ever thought possible, ok? There's no question about it. I'm sorry I'm doing this, but I think he'll postpone it anyway"

"What?"

"The man wants to marry you, ok?" Steve smiled, "He asked Tony if he had any work for him so he could raise money. Can you imagine how that went down? He was red like a tomato, but he didn't think twice. James Barnes used the computer to look for rings for you. The Bucky I know? Never would've done this. You brought to life a part of him that no one else has seen before. He loves you. With all that he is. And trust me when I tell you, he won't stand to be away from you. You're his whole world, Y/n. He's my best friend, trust me when I tell you this is something you'll work through. I'll help, we'll all help. You're not gonna lose him, Y/n. He's so beat up about all of this because he loves you this much. He's all yours. If he decides to leave, I need you to be strong because he will be back. I got him back 70 years later. You just need to trust him. Trust his heart, ok?"

"Oh my god" you cried, "I don't know what to say"

"Don’t say anything" he chuckled, "We've been through so much together. All of us. Even if we try, nothing pulls us apart, ok? How many times has Loki died, hm?"

"God, Steve!" you scoffed somewhat amused and pulled back just to hit him, "Did you seriously compare Bucky to Loki!?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" he laughed. "But I'm serious. You've both been through so much worse than this. You'll get through this one too. And in case you ever feel like you won't, I'm here, ok?"

"Ok…"

Funny as it all was, it worked. He calmed you down - to some extent. Gave you hope you didn't know existed. If it wasn't for Steve, you probably would have not been able to fall asleep. And even though dreams didn't visit you, and you never relaxed enough to actually get some rest, you just dozed off. All clothed and curled diagonally on the bed, you cuddled Bucky's pillow to your chest as your eyes slowly fell closed.

When you opened them again, it was still dark out. You had no idea what pulled you awake as you struggled to sit up on the bed, but then you heard Bucky's voice again, from the doorway.

"Y/n?"

“Buck?” you gasped, turning around. Only his silhouette was visible, head hung low and hands deep in his pockets. He was leaning against the doorway, silently awaiting your response.

Right then and there, you felt your world collapse. Steve’s monologue made you actually fucking believe things would be fine, but here he was, keeping his promise. In the buttcrack of night, he kept his word, bidding you a much feared farewell.

“Is-” you sobbed, jumping out of bed and rushing towards him. You almost knocked him off of his feet when you flung yourself at him, but he was quick to reciprocate, caging you between his arms. “Is this it? You’re leaving?”

He didn’t say anything which frankly made everything worse. You broke down even further, clinging to his shirt as if it was the only source of oxygen keeping you alive - it sure felt like it.

“Look at me” Bucky urged you, tilting your chin up, “Please?”

You slowly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his.

“I’m sorry, I will make it up to you” he whispered, a frown settling above his tired eyes, “You’ll see”

“What does that even mean?" you questioned, tired and sick of this ongoing conflict that should not even have been an issue to begin with. "You don't have to make up for anything"

"I know you see things like that" he cooed, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. He spoke softly, his breath fanning against your skin, somehow, even in this situation, managing to calm you down. "But you can understand me too, right?"

"I don't want to" you shrugged, "I don't care. Why does it matter if I understand you or not if you're gonna leave anyway?"

"I'm not leaving, doll"

"What!?" you beamed, pulling away from his hold and grabbing his face in your palms, "You're not- but you're-"

His whole frame softened, "I'm not here to say goodbye, Y/n. I'm not going anywhere"

"Oh god" you gasped.

"Come on, come here" Bucky chuckled softly, bringing you back into his hold, "I'm staying here. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You're the most badass woman I know and I managed to break you"

"I love you, Buck" 

"I love you more, Y/n" he sighed, "I'll make everything right, I promise"

"Oh, fuck" you breathed out relieved, "Just do whatever you want, I don't care. You're here. That's all that matters."

"And we also need to teach you to fight-" he added, "For real. And find a way for you to take those goddamn shackles off in case this happens again"

"Tony won't be too happy about it" you laughed.

"Fuck if I care-" Bucky said strenly, pointing at you, "Next time, you need to be able to stop me. And fast"

"Maybe it won't happen again"

"Maybe not" Bucky nodded, "But if it does, we need to be ready"

"Thank you" you said, "I know I didn't play this right. I know I literally dismissed everything that you must have gone through today. I'm sorry"

"You don't get to be sorry" Bucky stopped you, "Not after-"

"Then you don't get to, either!"

"Meh" he shrugged, "We'll see"

"Bucky!"

"I love you" he laughed, bending down to pick you up. He planted his hands on the back of your thighs, picking you up with ease and walking you over to the bed. You plopped back against the fluffy mattress with a huff, and giggled as he crawled his way on top of you. Instantly, his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, the kind that made your chest ache. You moaned against his lips as love transpired through his touch. It was overwhelming and the first happy tears of the day streamed down your temples as you arched yourself against him.

"I'm so weak for you, fuck" Bucky groaned, his right arm reaching around your back and pressing you against his chest. "You're everything" he added as he kissed his way along your neck, "I'm all yours forever, Y/n. I love you too much"

"I'm here, baby" you moaned, hiding your face into his shoulder, "You're mine, Bucky. All mine."

His lips didn't leave your body as he pushed himself up just enough to be able to reach the buckle of his jeans. The sound made your core ache, and your mouth watered.

There was no patience in his movements. He barely pulled his jeans down to his knees before ridding you of your pajama pants. He lodged himself between your thighs, his mouth instantly back on yours again.

"Come on" you panted, steading your arms against his strong back. Your legs found their way around his frame, ready to pull him closer.

When Bucky guided his hands between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your opening, you whimpered in anticipation. Agonisingly slow, he trailed his tip along your folds before reaching your clit. With a blissful moan, he reached further up, tapping his cock against your bare cunt a couple of times before returning his attention back to you. 

"I got you, baby" he hummed, pecking your lips. "You ready? Is this ok?"

With eagerness, you nodded and wiggled under his weight, your pussy aching for him. "Yes, yes"

When you felt his cock push past your folds, you moaned out loud, your voice cracking with the pure pleasure that took over your being.

He eased himself in, going all the way until he all but knocked the breath out of you, and he stopped. Bucky reached down to kiss you again, his cock motionless, balls deep inside of you.

He bit down on your lip and you giggled.

"Felt your pussy clench around me, doll" he laughed, "You're good to me"

"You may be all mine, Buck, but I'm all yours too"

"Holy shit" he panted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was as if you weren't real. He'd have pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he really did not want to wake up. So he kept going.

Nibbling at the skin of your neck, he started to pull himself out of you. The slow pace was driving you insane. Your need grew so strong you felt everything. His breath, the way his hair tickled your chin, his strong around around your shoulders, his massive thighs rubbing against yours, every small vein along his cock that drove you closer and closer to the sweetest bliss you had ever known. 

He got you all worked up at an agonisingly slow pace, before his thrusts became more and more aggravated. You moaned with each thrust despite your struggles to keep quiet.

"You know how much I love hearing you, doll" Bucky shook his head as he drove himself back inside of you all the way, "Moan for me"

"Fuck, ok" you gasped, and closed your eyes as you started to fall apart. You gripped the bed sheets into your hands and pulled as he kept fucking you, deep and hard.

"You're so good, baby" he groaned, "So, so good for me"

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, fervently sucking deep, maroon marks all ice your skin. Gutural grounds betrayed his air of self control as a plethora of curse words escaped his lips. "Taking me so fucking well. I can't keep going like this, you're too fucking tight-"

"Cum, baby" you encouraged, voice low and tender as you spoke against his ear, "Cum for me"

"Don’t have to tell me twice" he chuckled.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular, as his eyes flew closed. You missed the blue of his eyes, but his mouth was slightly agape as he panted his way to an orgasm.

His chest heaved against yours, "How do you feel so fucking good?" Bucky cursed, eyes still closed as he barely managed to mumble his words between the numerous grunts of pleasure that forced their way out of his throat.

You gave him no answer, instead just clung to him tighter, "Fuck, Bucky, I'm close-"

"Come on" he encouraged, hurrying to rub your clit. His fingers found your bud in an instant, working experienced, familiar circles that almost drove you over the edge. "Cum with me, ok?"

You nodded, gathering your lips between your teeth. He kept fucking you, harder and faster until he had turn limp under his weight. You came as his name rolled off your lips, and he followed seconds after, pumping his juices deep inside your pussy. 

You felt his absolute pleasure as he breathed heavily against your shoulder. He kept going until you were both spent, and then fell down beside you. 

"Bucky-" you whined, turning over and curling into his side, the lack of contact making you more needy than ever.

"Yes, darling?" he panted, tapping your chin.

"Nothing. I just love you"

"Love you too, doll" he huffed, spinning you around so you laid on your back.

He effortlessly helped you out of your shirt and plopped down on top of you, his head resting on your bare chest. His warm, right hand cupped your breast as he closed his eyes. He wrapped himself around you, "Hold me" he muttered, "please"

"Always, Bucky" you said, engulfing him in the tightest hold you could muster. Only then did you feel him calm down completely, and there was nothing in the world you could ever ask for.

-

If you liked it, please reblog and tell me what you thought? :)

[mazuwii]

Eren Jaeger SFW Alphabet

Authors note: I hope this is feeding you guys because I am dragging this motivation by its hair😤

I was going to do Bertholdt next but I got a request for Miche so either of them will come out next😄

If you guys can’t comment (I’ve no idea how to turn replies on) Then I’m Lunology on wattpad, just comment on my aot scenarios book and I’ll post here! <3

—A (Affection, how affectionate is he?)

•Not the most lovey-dovey person in the entire cast, Eren is really shy when it comes to conveying his feelings for you. But when you both are alone, and he's comfortable with you he can hug you, or pinch your cheeks as a way of saying "You're so cute I could squish you into nothing."

•He has a very aggressive way of showing affection, like biting your cheek, kissing places with his hands clamping shut on them, it's difficult to get him to let go.

—B (Bestfriend, what would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

•Being best friends with Eren is a wild ride. You'd think he adopted you as a best friend being the loud, boisterous extrovert that he is yet you're the one always getting him out of trouble.

•He's loud, fun, spontaneous but incredibly annoying. My guy will SPAM you with useless TikTok videos, his entire fyp on your messages.

•But he's very funny too, he crops your faces on animated videos and it lowkey looks so shit that it's funny.

•As your best friend, Eren will fight anyone who even thinks about threatening you (lmao he can't fight) so you're just stuck with scolding him and disinfecting his bleeding lip💀

—C (Cuddling. Does he like to cuddle? How would he cuddle?)

•If he gets a random wave of gratitude he'd just randomly burst into your room and hug you, it would be sooo random. You're just playing a game and this guy hugs you but as a joke, he walks around the room while hugging you so the chair you're on walts around everywhere with him. Once you understand what this weirdo is doing you just burst out laughing with him because you both look dumb.

•Like the dude is just staring into space when he remembers that one time you slapped a teacher for him, or almost got yourself in trouble to give him something and he just goes: ƈ ͡ (ुŏ̥̥̥̥ ‸ ŏ̥̥̥̥) ु COME HERE Y/NNNNNN!!

•Eren is a pretty fun boyfriend, wouldn't just stick to a cuddle session, it would be more like... playing a game on the console with you sprawled out on his lap.

—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

•While Eren wants to tie a knot when it comes to you and him, having children never ever crosses his mind. It's just fun fun fun until you're twenty-eight and you're asking when he wants to have a mini Jaegar. He just looks a bit taken back because it isn't an easy job...

•And when it comes to cooking and cleaning, he's actually somewhat good at cleaning, never missing a spot with his aggressive wiping. However... I don't see him as a cooker if you get me💀 probably burnt his finger while boiling water and never tries again.

•If we're talking about domestic then yeah maybe, maybe he does have a nice husband in him. Not one that pretends there's a spider on you when you wake up... or nOt one that hogs the pillows.

—E (Ending, If he had to break up with his partner, how would he do it?)

•He felt as if he wasn't giving you enough and that other men could satisfy you. Eren would be too scared to face you when he breaks the news so he would leave a note and completely disappear from your life.

—F (Fiancé. How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

•Eren doesn't really put labels on things, at least, he says that... the guy calls you wifey even though you aren't married. Sure he may think about it for a few minutes but quickly shuts himself down since he's extremely shy when it comes to chatting about the two of you

•Eventually when he goes to all his friends' weddings, he gets jealous and decides he should put a ring on it LMAO, you can expect him to be incredibly flustered and even play it off with a 'cool' when you say yes. It's best you hug him so that you don't see how red his face turns.

•I'm just sayin' he's going all out for your wedding, it's so funny, he's so extra... why are their ten limousines? Men shooting guns upwards the moment you both kiss?! A fucking food fight-

—G  (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

•If we're talking about physically, he is not gentle and he doesn't even try to be. He sometimes accidentally hurts you but never misses a second to kiss the spot and over-apologise. But Eren would never think about hurting you on purpose unless it was a life or death situation.

•Emotionally, he's fragile and would love reassurance. Emotionally, towards you, he doesn't be careful, always giving you jump scares, purposely pranking you

—H (Hugs, do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

•For you, he loves aggressive hugs where it's breaking your bones and he just lifts you off the floor and violently shakes you around like he can't get enough of you.

•He loves loves loves loves LOVES hugs when you two are alone and treating you like your a happy huge dog, ruffling every single part of your body for no reason at all and rubbing you with a relaxing force...?

•Again, Eren is very shy so you'd have to start hugging him first for him to get used to it and eventually, he'll be the one knocking into your body for a bear hug

—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word?)

•Eren says I love you through the number of shits he gives (Not literally)... If he cares about you he worries a lot and checks up on you almost all the time so

•It would probably be at a time where he did something so risky and you got so scared that the moment you caught onto him you cried it out, he'd apologetically say it back and hug you, with meaning of course.

—J (How Jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

•Coming from someone who tries her hardest to make this accurate, I can say Eren gets jealous to the  m a x

•At first he thinks to himself that you'd tell whoever it is flirting with you to fuck off but his pride shatters when he realises you didn't say anything and it doesn't sound like you will

•My guy either walks out in dismay and gets petty with you afterwards or he walks up to you and tells you the both of you have to go home before shooting a dirty look at the flirty dude or straight up telling him to piss off

•That may result in a physical fight 💀 that guy needs anger management classes...

—K (Kisses, what are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

•For Eren, I can say that he doesn't make out often but when he does he'll probably leave your lips bruised, he has an obsession with biting your lip at the wrong time💀 he's too rough on most occasions, it isn't fun... calm down Jaegar.

•Eren loves kissing your cheek, except he bites it and leaves a slobber of saliva on it. He thinks it's cute as fuck, he won't stop.

•As for where he likes being kissed... he likes feeling delicate and loved so he really enjoys it when you sweep his rapunzel ass hair aside and kiss the temple of his forehead

—M (Mornings, how are mornings spent with him)

•The blanket is probably completely off of him and his leg is resting on your hip. He's an animal so the guy wakes up at like...6am without an alarm- it isn't even a training day! It's a day off! And he still wakes up at that early time.

•A few morning exercises for an hour before he attempts to wake you up... violently.

•Listen! Eren likes making breakfast with you, it doesn't feel the same without you- it's defintely not because he has no idea how to work the gas and oven🌚

•He's very funny and social when he isn't hungry so mornings are pretty fun with him, cracking a few jokes while getting you dirty with pancake mix (he said he can't control where flour goes, this is why you don't get him to cook)

•And then after that, it's time to shower... idk you decide if you'll go in with him¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Just sayin' his skin is very red afterwards, my guy uses cold water but scrubs so hard with the lufa-)

—N (Night, how are nights spent with him?)

•Like I said, Eren is like a dog, he spends his days using his full energy and he makes sure to use it all up so by 22:00 he should be knocked out.

•Eren isn't too bothered on cooking so you both probably just watch something before bed while eating take out

•afterwards it's a... really boiling hot shower, brush your teeth, have a conversation in bed for a while until you're both falling asleep at the sound of your voices.

•"Hah... loser... I can...- I can see you falling asleep *Jaegar yawn* first..." even though he's the one with the heavy, falling eyelids.

—O (Open, when would he start revealing things about himself? Did he say everything all at once? Or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

•Eren is very hesitant when it comes to being emotional, he thinks it isn't very masculine so you have to remove the toxic part away and reassure him millions of times that just because he cried, it doesn't make him girly.

•It would be an accident, he'd be trying to go stargazinh with you, you were resting on his arm and he was rambling and the subject suddenly got onto him. Without realising, he spilled everything right then and there... somehow without crying.

•The least you could do was hold on his hand and squeeze it gently... I doubt he's paying attention, he's probably scowling in memory.

•It's best you reassure him that nothing is his fault, nothing could have prevented what happened

—P (Patience, how easily angered are they?)

•He is very impatient to say the least, a control freak.

•When things don't go his way, he shouts, punches walls, scrunches up his hair but the moment there are tears in his eyes, everyone needs to leave the room

•oh ho ho HOOO you don't want to Eren to cry from anger, he turns into the silent kid with a glock in his bag... leave him for an hour and you'll come back to a fully destroyed room👁👄👁

—Q (Quizzes, how much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

•He remembers dumb small details, your favourite flowers, why you don't like public bathrooms, the reason you won't stop annoying his half brother 💀 (You wanna know Zeke's wiping technique... who doesn't?!)

•However he can't for the life of him, remember your doctors appointment or to pick up your medicine... he's halfway home and goes "Fuck-"

—R (Remember, what is his favourite moment in your relationship?)

•He and you go out on a lot of dates, but they're always wacky and messy. One of his favourites was when you both attacked Armin at the beach with water guns and then both Armin and Mikasa were both searching for you to get revenge

•You two hid behind a palm tree, giggling lowly with each other, aiming to attack your two oblivious friends but little did you both know, they heard your low confident remarks and lunged from behind the tree with two full buckets of freezing sea water dumped on you.

•He always remembers that day when he drifts off into a daydream and it always makes him smile

—S (Security, how protective are they? How would they protect you?)

•Trust me when I say... Eren would kill for you...

•So in conclusion, he is very protective and would not hesitate to take far measures to protect you. He's pretty much your ride or die

•While he doesn't show his protectiveness, he acts on it... if that makes sense? Listen, he's very protective but he's sneaky about it! I don't know how to describe it

—T (Try. How much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

•Despite how immature he seems, Eren completes all tasks in his day. And he makes sure of it

•When it comes to dates, it's very random... more spontanous but it's always something like. "Oh by the way, we're going to a waterpark this Sunday." Orrr "Babe! Get ready, we're going to eat out with Armin and his girlfriend!"

•You have an hour and a half to get ready so I would call your relationship active 😭 not even sexually active just active.

•Eren can be thoughtful but you have to shove your interests in his face for him to know what you want. Cartoon posters? He catches you watching a lot of gravity falls, steven universe, AWOG, etc... and then anytime he sees stuff to do with that in shops, he gets it for you on the way.

—U (Ugly, what are some bad habits of his?)

•Like I said earlier, Eren has some... mild anger issues🌚

•Nothing can calm him down, unless you have Ackerman strength I doubt you can stop him. He has no idea how to deal with his emotions so it just bubbles up and then he sees an object and thinks 💡 this can take my shit load of anger

•The walls probably have a lot dents yk and calming him down is very difficult but to be thoughtful, you tried getting him a few things to help him deal with his stress properly

—V (Vanity, how concerned is he with his looks)

•Couldn't really give two shits about his appearance, my guy grew rapunzel ass hair and just tied it up because I doubt he's bothered to take care of it

•Sure he wouldn't mind you washing it for him and applying conditioner, in fact, he loves it.

•Eren doesn't care about his appearance and just throws on a hoodie and sweatpants most of the time. You have to choose the shit he wears when you go out on fancy occassions 💀

—W (Whole, would they feel incomplete without you?)

•Again, to Eren, you're his world and he'd do anything to make sure that world is safe and healthy so without you, who would he feel the need to protect?

•Okay MAYBE he doesn't like worrying but he just does so I guess that would be a good thing if you broke up but it isn't as worth it💀

•But ever since you've been his sunshine cheerleader, he can't imagine a morning without your whining ass voice, or fighting with you to the bathroom in the morning, jumping on your back out of nowhere

•You're everywhere in his head, of course he couldn't feel whole without you

—X (Xtra, a random headcannon for him)

•Anytime Eren loses at something(it could be a hobby or a game) he'd stop doing it. Just dropping the entire thing.

•Unless he feels competitive, that always fires him up to do better... so in a way, Jean motivates him to do things. Those two actually care for each other but they hate each other (not literally) they're like siblings!

•Sorry, am I making sense?💀

—Y (Yuck, what are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in person?)

•First of all, my mans fucking hates chocolate, put it near him and he'll kick it or throw it against the nearest wall.

•Like Eren was such a good boi when he was little, eating everything his momma put on his plate, even the brussel sprouts he fucking despised.

•But chocolate is his last straw. Chocolate and peanut butter. It gets stuck to the roof of his mouth and he panics like a drama queen, fanning his face like a princess and washing his mouth with his heart POUNDING against his chest

—Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of his?)

•He sleeps pretty normally, when he turns he lets out a soft satisfied groan, which I'd say is ordinary

•As for his sleeping weight, I'd say he's a heavy sleeper, you'd need to shake him to wake him up, slap his face or something because when that sleep is BUSSIN he won't be WAKIN (bad joke sorry)

•And he's gaping. Shut his mouth please.

•His hands may accidentily fall on some places on your body, he places them everywhere. Like on your nose, on your belly

Authors note:

Have you guys noticed that I don't add the letter L🌚? *shocked noises*

Jaaaa that's because I don't wanna write about kids so forgive me lmao

I'M SO GLAD THIS IS FINISHED! I WANT TO ADD EVERY CHARACTER COS I FEEL SO BAAAAAD FOR NOT DOING A LOT OF YOUR REQUESTS!

Deadass my brain just went bye bye when it came to writing and I recharge by reading actual original work by published authors, it helps me get back on track

Bertholdt/Miche is next!

[intheticklecloset]

Dr. Stone Sentence Starters #11-20

A collection of the Dr. Stone sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories. Most are SenGen.

~~~

11) Lee Gen, Ler Senku

“Did. I. Stutter?” Senku repeated his words slowly, one by one, approaching Gen with purposeful strides.

Gen was so surprised by Senku’s demeanor that he backed himself right into one of the shelves full of glass beakers. He whirled to make sure none of them fell. “N-No, you didn’t stutter, I just…wasn’t sure that I heard you right?”

“You heard me perfectly well.” Senku was right in his face when the mentalist turned back, startling him all over again. After a long pause, the scientist smirked playfully. “You’d better run.”

Gen sure didn’t need to be told twice. He took off at a sprint, bolting out of the lab and around the back towards the forest, hoping to climb up into one of the trees for shelter from the oncoming storm. A minute later Senku arrived, stood at the base of his chosen tree, and looked up.

“Really? You’re not even trying.”

“I know you can’t climb well,” Gen replied. “If you want me, you’ll have to come get me.”

“All right.”

Adding to the surprises for the day, Senku leapt up to grab the first branch and swung himself up onto it, approaching Gen’s hiding place slowly but surely.

At this point, Gen felt he owed it to his poor friend to just stay put and take it. It wouldn’t be so bad…right?

Senku crawled up the branch to him, pushing him against the trunk with a mischievous smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Gen flashed a smile of his own. “Go on, then. Just don’t tickle me so hard we both fall out of this tree.”

“I make no promises.” Senku chuckled, then reached for him and started tickling. Gen’s laughter filled the edge of the forest as the scientist added, “Besides, this is what you get for messing with me all the time. I think it’s only fair.”

*

12) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

Gen wrapped his arms around Senku’s waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “What are you working on?”

Senku stiffened for only a moment, then relaxed when he realized who it was. “Just doing an experiment for Chrome.”

“You’re so kind.” Gen held him closer and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. “When are you coming to bed?”

Senku let out a small noise and shuddered slightly. “Uh…” For a moment, he actually seemed at a loss for words. “S-Soon. Once I finish here.”

“That was quite the reaction,” Gen teased, kissing him again. “I keep forgetting you’re so ticklish here.”

“Don’t,” Senku pleaded. He tried to turn around, but the mentalist tightened his grip on his waist and kissed him again. “Gen, dohohohon’t!”

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Gen teased, curling his fingers inward to tickle the scientist’s sides as well, pulling a sputtering laugh out of him. “Can’t take a little tickling?”

“Stohohohohop – you knohohohow I cahahahan’t!” Senku gripped Gen’s arms, giggling openly, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere until the mentalist released him. “Plehehehehease!”

Gen beamed at him, kissing his neck and ears and tickling his sides in tandem. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

“Shuhuhuhut up!”

“But you are!” Gen hugged him tighter. “I just want to squeeze you and cuddle you and tickle you all night long.”

“Gen!” Senku was blushing now, heart hammering in his chest. This mentalist did things to him he’d never felt before, and it was confusing and exciting all at once. “Plehehehehease, stohohohop!”

As requested, the mentalist slowed his tickling down and eventually let up. He pulled back and turned Senku to face him, reveling in the pink cheeks and bright eyes his tickling had induced. Gen put a hand to his cheek. “Come to bed?”

Senku chuckled, placing his hand over top of Gen’s. “Sure.”

*

13) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

The snap of a twig in the dark alerted Senku to the fact that he wasn’t alone out here in the forest.

Great, he thought. I go off by myself for two minutes to do my business and now I’m being stalked by some wild animal. Or worse – one of Tsukasa’s people. The scientist stalled, listening hard, scanning the area around him for some sign of movement.

There was nothing.

Cautiously he stepped forward, intending to get back to the observatory as quickly and quietly as possible. He was just coming upon the clearing that would take him to the outskirts of the village when someone came up behind him and slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his startled cry.

He panicked for all of three seconds before his captor murmured a gentle, “Hello, Senku~” And suddenly he knew who had hold of him. He relaxed, letting out a sigh. His heart was racing. “Quite bold of you to assume it was safe to go off alone, don’t you think?”

Senku wrenched his head to the side to free his mouth and look directly into the cool, teasing gaze of the mentalist. “You scared me half to death, Gen. Are you happy?”

“I am. But you don’t seem to be.” Gen smirked, grabbing hold of Senku’s wrists and holding them behind his back as he squeezed his side playfully. “Good thing we know how to change that, hmm?”

“No!” Senku yelped, biting his lip to keep his laughter at bay. He struggled, but Gen was surprisingly strong. “Nohohohohoho, Gen! Y-You – gah – stohohohohohohop it! I’ll g-gehehehet you bahahahack for thihihihis!”

Gen beamed, leaning forward to blow cool air over the scientist’s neck and ears, loving the squeal he got for his efforts. “I’m sure you will. But first, allow me to teach you about the dangers of the forest, my dear Senku~”

*

14) Lee Senku, Lers Kohaku and Ginro

“Wait, wait, wait!” Senku cried, kicking against Kohaku until she let him go, startled. Once on his feet again he shook his head and started backing away. “Nope. Can’t do it. Sorry.”

“What? But you said—”

“Can’t.”

Kohaku reached out and grabbed his wrist, frowning at him. “Senku, I need someone to be a test dummy for Ginro so he can learn how to fight properly.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the blonde boy who stood off to the side, watching them in confusion. “No one else is available, so you’re up.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why are you protesting all of a sudden? You seemed fine when I asked five minutes ago.”

Senku wouldn’t look at her. “I just…remembered something important I need to do. Right now. Time is of the essence.”

“This will only take a couple of minutes, Senku,” Kohaku sighed, moving to stand behind him again, latching her hands onto his waist and hoisting him into the air as she had the first time.

Senku yelped and then – to her surprise – burst into giggles, squirming in her arms. “S-Stop, put me down!”

Immediately, it clicked. Kohaku grinned, set him on the ground as requested, and wasted no time curling her fingers inward, squeezing his sides with purpose this time. Senku’s laugh was instant and loud and shrieky. She beamed. “You’re ticklish! That’s why you didn’t want to help.”

“Stop, stohohohohohop!” he pleaded, grabbing onto her wrists but unable to keep her from wiggling her fingers in his most sensitive spot. His knees wobbled. “Kohaku! I’m seheheheherious!”

“You sound serious,” she teased.

“Is he ticklish? No way!” Ginro cried, beaming as he hurried over to them. “I want to tickle him, too!”

“No – NO!! Both of yohohohohou, s-s-STAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!!” Senku was quickly tackled to the ground, each of his attackers grabbing an arm and holding it out of the way while they dug into his sides, drawing the loudest, screechiest laughter they’d ever heard from him. He kicked and begged and tossed his head back as his hysterics overcame him in a wild rush he hadn’t felt in over three thousand years. “NONONO STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I SWEHEHEHEHEAR!! I’LL M-MAHAHAKE YOU DO MOHOHOHOHORE WORK IF YOU DON’T STAHAHAHAHAHAP—!!”

*

15) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

Gen had been trying – and failing – to get Senku to laugh at even one of his jokes for a solid ten minutes at this point, and he was growing frustrated. Didn’t the man have a sense of humor?

“Okay, okay – what did one eye say to the other?” he tried.

Senku took a long drink of water before shrugging and leaning against the outside of the lab, looking up into the cloudy sky. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Between you and me, something smells!”

“Uh-huh. Give it up, mentalist – your jokes just aren’t funny.”

Gen scoffed. “You just don’t know how to laugh,” he muttered, reaching to pinch his side without really thinking about it. “Grumpy.”

To his surprise, Senku let out what sounded like a squeak and jerked away from him, turning wide red eyes to the mentalist. Gen stared at him. He smirked.

“Do not,” Senku said.

“Oh, I will.” Gen tackled the scientist to the ground, pinching up and down his sides rapidly, keeping him giggling. “All right, let’s try this again. How about this one – how do you know the toothbrush was invented in Tennessee?”

“W-Whehehehehere even is Tehehehehenessee?” Senku protested, squirming and trying to push Gen’s hands away.

“Because if it were invented anywhere else, it would be called a teethbrush!”

“It’s n-nohohohot that fun-NEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Senku laughed helplessly when the mentalist squeezed his sides harder, earning louder shrieks and squeals from him.

“Aha! Finally got you to laugh at one!”

“THAHAHAHAT DOESN’T COHOHOHOHOUNT!!”

Gen chuckled. “Do you really want to be arguing with me with the position you’re in?” To his surprise, the scientist’s cheeks were turning pink, and he seemed to actually be getting…flustered? “Why, Senku – are you enjoying this?”

“What?! Nohohohohoho!” Senku grabbed his wrists, trying to push him away. “Stohohohohop!”

But Gen didn’t let up, only smiling wider the longer he pinched and kneaded his friend’s sides, drawing the happiest of giggles from him. “Your smile tells me otherwise~”

*

16) Lee Gen, Ler Senku

“Why are you acting like this?”

Gen smirked. He’d been pestering Senku for a solid few minutes now, following him wherever he went, bugging him with random questions, never letting him have a moment of quiet. “For attention.”

Senku scoffed. “Interesting strategy.”

“It’s working, isn’t it?”

“I suppose there’s no way it couldn’t work, unless I ignored you. Which is difficult when you’re right behind me like a puppy all the time.”

“Am I cute like a puppy?”

Senku paused, looking at the mentalist seriously for a moment before smirking. “Sure. But I know how to make you even cuter. Come here!”

Gen knew what was coming, and he turned to try and run, but the scientist merely tackled him into the grass and rolled him over, going right for his underarms, and the mentalist exploded with laughter. “NONONO OKAHAHAHAHAHY I’LL LEHEHEHEHEAVE YOU ALONE!!”

“That’s funny.” Senku straddled him, leaning down so their faces were practically touching. “I never said I wanted you to.”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Gen squealed, kicking his legs uselessly, trying to toss his body side to side to lessen the sensations. Senku could not get enough of his big, bright smile. “PLEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!! ANYWHERE EHEHEHEHELSE BUT THEHEHEHERE, SENKU!!”

“Oh?~” Senku hummed, grabbing his arms and shoving them above his head, leaning down to press feather light kisses along his cheeks and ears. “Then what about here?”

Gen whined, still giggling. His ears weren’t overly ticklish, but being nuzzled and kissed there definitely flustered him. “Nohohohohohoho…”

“No? But you wanted attention.” Senku chuckled, reaching one hand down to tweak his ribs, making him yelp. “I’m just giving you what you wanted, puppy~”

*

17) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

“There’s no need to hold my chin like that,” Senku said with a confident smirk. “We’re the same height. I can look into your eyes just fine without your help.”

“I’m an inch taller, thank you,” Gen shot back playfully, “and it makes me feel powerful to make you look at me, so let me have this.”

“Powerful, huh?” Senku chuckled. He tried to tilt his head, but Gen merely tightened his grip slightly, giving his head a small shake as if to say “oh, no, you don’t.” The scientist blinked, surprised by how the simple action made his heart beat a little faster. “Well, what do you want, mentalist?”

Gen had his free arm wrapped around Senku’s waist. He pulled him a little closer. “What do you think?” He finally let go of his chin, only to scribble his fingers under it teasingly. “Come kiss me, you brilliant scientist.”

Senku chuckled again, and it took Gen a moment to realize it wasn’t because he’d thought it was funny. He twisted his head out of the way with a soft, “stop it,” and the gears in the mentalist’s head churned as he put the pieces together.

“Aw, are you a little sensitive, Senku?” He teased, scribbling even more, keeping up when the scientist twisted his head this way and that. Senku tried to pull back but Gen kept his arm firmly around his waist. “Tickle, tickle~”

“Stohohop.” The plea was soft, not quite genuine. The mentalist moved his skittering up to the man’s ears and neck, and finally Senku’s soft chuckles became higher-pitched giggles. “Nohohohoho! Gehehehehen!”

Gen giggled, too, throwing his arms around Senku’s shoulders and burying his face into his neck, nuzzling him. Both men continued to laugh happily for quite some time.

*

18) Lee Gen, Ler Senku

“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” Senku remarked, coming up behind Gen, hands on his hips. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Who says anything is wrong?” Gen replied, but he wouldn’t look at the scientist.

“Because you are physically incapable of shutting up.” Senku tried to step closer to get a better look at his face, but the mentalist turned away from him. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“I would never.”

“Now I know you’re hiding something.” The scientist sighed. “Spill it, Gen.”

Gen cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

Senku rolled his eyes and grabbed his ribs from behind, digging into the bones and spaces between with deadly precision. Gen shrieked with giggles and doubled over instantly, but to Senku’s surprise, he didn’t whirl around to fight him off. Instead he collapsed to the ground, barely squirming at all.

“Senku! Plehehehease!”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nohohohohothing’s wrong!”

“Then I’m sure you can take a little more tickling.”

Gen arched his back when the scientist wormed his way up into his underarms, finally rolling over onto his back, showing off his wide smile…and a whole slew of other things.

Senku stopped. “Gen, you’re sick.”

“I’m fine!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Chrome and I could have made some medicine for you, and you should be resting—”

“I’m fine,” Gen insisted. “I didn’t want you to worry because I’m not that sick. Just a little.”

“In the stone world, a cold can be deadly.” Senku frowned, moving to get up. “Come on, let’s get you to the observatory.”

“Wait.” Gen grabbed his arms, keeping him from standing. He looked a little embarrassed. “Can you…tickle me a little more? It felt really nice.”

“Tickling you made you feel better?”

“Laughter is the best medicine.”

“Oof. Just for that, I’m going to tickle you silly.” Senku smiled gently. “Let’s at least get you to the observatory first. Then we’ll see about that extra dose of tickling.”

*

19) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

“Hm? What was that? You’re going to have to stop laughing so I can hear you clearly.”

“GEHEHEHEHEHEN!! GEHEHEHEHET ME OUT OF HEHEHEHEHEHERE!!” Senku pleaded around mouthfuls of desperate laughter. He was hanging unceremoniously from a trap the hunters had set for deer deep in the forest; he’d been out collecting plants for a new project and had accidentally brushed over the rope with his hand, and now he was hanging from a tree with one wrist bound above him and the other trying to grab at Gen’s devious tickling fingers.

“I’m afraid I still can’t hear you,” the mentalist teased wickedly, enjoying himself far too much. When Senku had taken longer than expected to come back to the lab, he’d gone out to look for him and had nearly doubled over laughing himself when he found the scientist strung up in a deer trap. He’d also wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation, drilling his fingers deep into his friend’s sides, knowing it was his ultimate weak spot and that he couldn’t protect himself whatsoever right now. “If you’d just stop laughing so hard, maybe I could understand—”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Senku screeched, and the pure desperation in his voice was music to Gen’s ears. “GEHEHEHEHEN, STOHOHOHOHOHOP!! I BEHEHEHEHEG YOU!!”

“You beg me, hmm?” Gen grinned evilly up at him, enjoying the look of excited panic in his eyes. “Now that does sound lovely~”

“LEHEHEHEHET ME GOHOHOHO!! I SWEHEHEHEAR I’LL MAHAHAKE YOU ALL THE COHOHOHOLA YOU WANT!!”

“You do that anyway,” Gen chuckled, grabbing Senku’s free wrist and holding it up out of the way so he could tickle without any kind of hindrance. The scientist threw his head back and absolutely cackled, completely lost to his own hysterics at this point. The mentalist beamed. Despite his friend’s protests, he knew Senku wasn’t hating this as much as he pretended he did. After several long moments, he asked, “Had enough yet, giggles?”

At first Senku didn’t reply; he merely laughed and kicked and let Gen do what he wanted, but when the mentalist wrapped his arm around his waist to blow a raspberry over his exposed stomach, he finally crumbled. “STOHOHOHOHOHOP, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! NO MOHOHOHOHORE, GEN!!”

Gen chuckled, then took a knife from his tunic and threw it at the rope binding Senku to the tree. They both toppled to the ground in a heap, giggling in each other’s arms.

*

20) Lee Senku, Ler Gen

“You don’t take compliments very well, do you?” Gen asked, looking sideways at Senku, who looked a tad bit flustered and uncomfortable. “Why? They’re all right, you know.”

Senku scoffed, picking up a pencil and beginning to draw something, ignoring Gen completely.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Gen folded his arms. “Senku, you are intelligent, and kind, and lots of fun to be around, and—”

“Stop,” Senku muttered, dropping the pencil and facing away from him, cheeks turning pink as he blushed. “None of it’s deserved.”

“Not deserved?” Gen gasped dramatically. “How dare you say such a thing about yourself.” When the scientist still wouldn’t look at him, he grabbed his sides from behind and pulled him closer while squeezing at the same time, pulling a startled giggle from his friend. “Let’s try this again, shall we? You are intelligent.”

Senku squirmed, giggling steadily as Gen squeezed and dug his fingers into his most ticklish spot. “Stop—”

“You are kind.” Gen giggled with him, pulling him closer, wrapping one arm around his chest. “You’re so much fun to be around.”

“Stohohohohop!”

“And let’s not forget – you have the best laugh!” The mentalist dug in for all he was worth, pulling a shriek and high-pitched laughter out of Senku, who squirmed and grabbed his arms weakly, not-so-subtly giving into the ticklish sensations wracking his body. Gen dug harder, held tighter, teased more relentlessly. “Hear that? Your laugh is the best, Senku! All of us love hearing it. Especially me. Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“GEHEHEHEHEHEHEN!!” Senku laughed, scrabbling for some kind of purchase on his purple coat. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Gen, yes~” The mentalist hugged him even tighter and began nibbling his neck and ears from behind in tandem with the nonstop tickling of his sides. Senku nearly collapsed right then and there, the feelings both unbearable and completely welcome at the same time. “You’re intelligent, you’re kind, you’re fun, your laugh is beautiful. Believe me now?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHES, OKAHAHAHAHAY, YOU WIHIHIHIHIHIN!!” Senku pleaded, submitting to Gen’s tickly hold while begging for mercy at the same time. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Gen finally let up, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before letting him go. “Good.”

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | i still see your face (nsfw)

summary: you and tyler break up. it’s harder than you thought it would be. 

a/n: highly recommend listening to driver’s licence by olivia rodrigo to get the whole vibe. my spotify must think i have a problem by the constant repeat. 

It’s not like you haven’t had a break up before. It’s just that this one feels different. Raw. A ragged edge that’s been torn. You drink too much beer and sleep too little. Your friends rally around you, of course they do, drag you to clubs with too many teenagers, tell you they never liked Tyler anyway. But the lie is thin, and in the dim bathroom of the bar one says, but why did you guys break up? What happened? You blink at her, mouth tasting of tequila. I don’t know.

-/-

Of course you know. You’re an adult. You made this decision together, sat on his couch. One of his throw pillows hugged to your chest so he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

“If this is really what you want,” Tyler had said, and you could hear the scratch in his throat, the way his eyes shone too bright. Unshed tears.

 You hadn’t been able to speak, tongue too thick, hot tears on your cheeks, fresh ones ready to replace as they dried sticky on your chin.

 He was away from home too much. Your lives were going in different directions. You had opportunities to travel with work, and it’s not like he could come with you. It was best to do it now, a clean break, rather than struggle on, slowly tearing.

 You’d cried all the way home from his house, struggling to keep the wheel straight. Your mother would have been horrified by the reckless driving. When you’d finally dared to look at your phone, that first night alone, Tyler’s text made you sob all over again. I love you. Always.

-/-

You talk to him, sometimes. You can’t help yourself. It’s like an itch that becomes unbearable. You have to scratch. Meaningless text message chains. How are you? Fine, you? I’m okay. I miss you. I miss you too. You know it’s not helpful, not the path towards healing that your married friends preach. But it makes it easier to sleep. Knowing he’s still out there. It’s a blissful kind of agony when he texts you unprompted, in the middle of the night, sometimes the middle of the afternoon. I think of you all the time or I dreamt about you or I thought I saw you at the game. Your own misery overwhelms. Winter sets in. You struggle through grey days, take the long way home to drive past his street. Pray you don’t see another car next to his.

-/-

You cry on the phone to your mother, great big sobs like a child does when they’ve lost their favourite toy. She tells you she’ll fly out.

 “No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

 “You can,” she assures, but the surety seeps away as soon as you hang up. A bottle of wine in front of the television. Take out. You’re either starving or not hungry at all now. You only watch ten minutes of an episode before you’re switching to the NHL channel. It’s too hard to forget the schedule. It’s like a reminder in your brain when you wake up in the morning, he’s playing today. You used to nap together, in the afternoons before games. The weak sunlight, the dancing dust mites. A Friend’s episode turned low. Tyler would reach for you in his sleep, nuzzle into your neck. Like he could never get close enough. Like he knew you would leave one day.

-/-

A mutual friends birthday. You’d tried to make excuses, but even you didn’t believe them.

 “It’s worse to avoid him,” your friend says, “It will only make it harder later.”

So in an effort to do the Right Thing, to be a Big Girl, and Move On, you find yourself drinking too strong punch, pieces of apple and orange floating in a plastic cup, leaning into a guy you just met and laughing too loud.

 And it is fun. For awhile. A mix of old friends and new. Loud music. And for most of the night, he’s not there. He’s so late you think he’s not coming. And you pretend you’re crying because you’re relieved and not because you’re disappointed. You’ve been smart enough to take yourself to the bathroom for the small meltdown, bent over the counter and taking deep breaths. You’re too old to be getting this smashed at a house party. It’s hard to focus on yourself in the mirror, bending light. It’s a good thing he’s not coming, you tell yourself, and wish you could believe it.

 You’re headed to the kitchen, the sink full of ice and hiding your drinks. Tyler is there. Tyler is there, standing in the hallway, talking to the host. His big hand makes the beer he’s holding look like a kid’s toy. He’s laughing, crinkly eyes, the sound reaching you. Slapping the guy on the shoulder, enjoying the joke. He’s so happy. How can he be so happy?

Dark eyes meet yours, the fall of his mouth from the grin. He goes to say something, call out maybe, but you’re turning away already, pushing back into the lounge room, the backdoor. Fresh air. Cold crisp of a Texan winter. The weather reporters are saying it might snow this year. He finds you. Of course he does. In the back-garden, looking up at the moon, counting stars. Your name in a familiar voice. The way he says it makes your heart hurt. You can barely look at him, the grass moving under your feet as you turn to face him. Curls peeking out from under a beanie. Black hoodie, dark jeans. You recognise the hoodie. You used to wear it to bed sometimes.

 “Hi,” you say, trying to be causal, wanting desperately to be, but at the same time you’re reaching out, clinging onto his arm. Don’t ever let go again.

 Tyler smiles, sad and small, “It’s nice to see you.”

 “Yeah,” you breathe, head back, gazing up at him. The moon has nothing on Tyler. Come back to me, you want to say, but this is your fault. You did this. You made this happen.

 “I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and you think yes, yes, just ask me, I’ll come back I promise, “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. It’s too hard.”

 “Oh,” you say. It suddenly seems so much colder out here. “Okay.”

You watch him walk away, back into the house, the light of the party. And if you cry in the Uber on the way home, no one else has to know.

-/-

The first time you sleep together, afterwards, you could almost convince yourself it’s an accident. Not talking hadn’t lasted long. A loss, a commiserating text, a wish to just go back to the way things were. We can, you’d said, just for one night.

 It’s almost awkward, the way he’s a stranger around you again. He looks tired, sore, sweatpants and a hoodie. Pink cheeks from the cold outside. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around his ears. You want to stay here, like this, forever, letting him sit you down in the bed, holding your face in his big hands to kiss you from where he stands between your knees. The way Tyler says your name, wanting, needy. The press of his body on yours. You missed this. You missed this so much. It would never be the same with anyone else. The way he touches you, so carefully, so purposefully. He knows just how you like it, just how you work together.

 It’s a habit, for you to be on top after a game, not worth making him expend any more energy. But he fights you for it, doesn’t let you settle, rolls you over onto your back again. You protest, mildly.

 “It’ll make you sore,” you say, can’t stop touching him, his hair, his face, his back, his chest. His skin is warm from the hoodie.

 “Don’t care,” Tyler says, a crooked smile, nudging his nose against yours, “I want it like this, want to see you properly.”

 Your heart is broken and remade simultaneously. It’s all you can do not to pull the doona over both of you and hide forever, keep him here like a prisoner. Cherish him for an age. His mother would never forgive you.

 Your body aches for him, as he nudges open your legs, kisses your mouth, your neck, your breasts. You should take your time, enjoy it, the last time, but you can’t help but surge towards the end.

 “Want you inside me,” you whisper, fingers on his hips, angling him.

 “Yeah,” Tyler rasps, aligning himself, “Fuck. Yeah, please.”

The relief of him sinking home, the opening of your body to him. It’s too easy, almost, the rhythm he settles into. Your legs tight around his waist, groaning when he pulls one up over his shoulder, finds a new angle. A big hand palming at your breast, the way he says your name, thick and low. You come a few moments before him, get off on the way he watches you, holds you, fingers caressing just above where he slides in and out of you. It takes everything not to cry, the final release, the drop of endorphins.

 Tyler shakes when he comes, a whole body shudder as he holds himself deep, panting against your ear. You stare at the ceiling and blink away tears. How could you ever have walked away from this? Nothing feels right unless he’s here.

 Later, he gets up to leave, but you reach out before he can get out of bed.

 “Please stay,” you whisper, pathetic. Tyler’s a shadow in the dark, but he’s warm when he slides back under the covers, gathers you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you fall asleep.

-/-

It takes you another week to swallow your pride. You call your mother, again, cry on the phone, again.

 “I think I was wrong, I think I made a huge mistake.”

 “If he is who you say he is,” she counsels, “He’ll forgive you.”

 “What if he doesn’t?”

You’re convinced that someone will be in your parking spot the whole drive to his house. A new car. A girl’s car. You can’t breathe along his whole tree lined street, until you see the empty spot. Like it’s waiting for you. Like it has been this whole time.

 You almost slump into him when he opens the door, the relief, the grief. He’s surprised to see you. Sleepy. Got in late last night from a Roadie. The dogs are everywhere at once, bumping you into each other as they try to get a cuddle. Tyler stumbles into you, forced by Marshall’s heavy tail. Your hand on his ribcage, steadying. Are you really going to do this? On his front step? Behind him, you can see your red coat on the coat hook. So that’s where it was. You’ve been looking for it in the cold. And he’s kept it, this whole time. Waiting for you.

 “I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Tyler shakes his head, confused, furrowed brow, “What’s going on?”

 “I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I got scared, and I panicked. The truth is. I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And it’s scary. I’m so scared. But I shouldn’t have taken it on you like this. It was wrong. And if you can’t. If you can’t forgive me I understand. But. I really, really want you, too.”

 He says your name, quietly, prayer like. Your hand is still on his chest.

 “Are you sure?” He asks, and the dogs are still all around you, the front door is wide open. Tyler’s socked feet on the porch.

 “I’m so sure.”

And he’s laughing. He’s laughing. And he’s kissing you. Warm and fresh and familiar. And then you’re laughing and then you’re crying and Tyler is just holding, holding, holding you.

And along the street, a warm breeze blows through the trees. The promise of summer.

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Five

{Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Spanking, Attempted Suffocation, Anal, Use of Inanimate Object, Swearing, Implied Breeding, Oral (male & female receiving), Brief Mention of Real People, Spitting}.  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N: Okay so I know it's been a while since we last checked in here but life and story block decided to pay me a visit.  At least the good news is I got the whole thing finished (will never reveal how I beat the block though😂).  Hope you all enjoy it.  Feedback is welcomed.

Pairing:- Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count:- 3,820

Waking beside Tony the next morning, your mind worked through all the possible options available to you.  You could try to escape, but with his stupid technology inside you, not only could he always find you but the two shocks you already received were still fresh in your mind.  Carefully reaching across him for the phone on the bedside table, Tony opened his eyes, caught hold of your hips and despite your struggles, placed you on top of him before thrusting up into your waiting pussy as he pulled your hips down to meet his.  "Fuck darling, what a way to wake up?  You feel fantastic.  Tell me you love how full I make you feel."

Holding onto his chest to steady yourself while trying to free yourself, you refused to even look at him.  Unhappy with both your non-participation and refusal to answer, he lifted you up until only his tip remained inside you and repeated the process again.  Each time he brought you down, a hand left a slap on your ass cheek and it wasn't long before his efforts brought a reaction from you.  Just not the one he expected.

Managing to successfully grab your pillow, you brought it down on Tony's face and couldn't believe your dumb luck when he started thrashing beneath you, before his hands fell from your body.  Holding the pillow in place a bit longer for good measure, you then removed yourself from his cock while grabbing his phone, t-shirt and boxers before running from the room.  Throwing on Tony's clothes while simultaneously making your way towards the kitchen, you tried the phone only to find it locked.

Upon reaching the kitchen, your spirits sank further when, as Tony had told you previously, both doors were indeed locked.  Searching around for some means to pry any door open, you eventually dropped to the floor while you contemplated the fucked up situation you now found yourself in.  Here you sat in a house you couldn't leave, with a dead Avenger and apparently no way of opening any door that wasn't your bedroom.  You would have cried at the dire circumstances now facing you if it wasn't for the sharp pain that radiated throughout your body, signaling that Tony Stark wasn't as dead as you thought.  Screaming and wrapping your arms around yourself as the pain increased, darkness claimed you once again before a pissed off Tony towered over your unconscious form.

                   *************

Finally coming round in a room you didn't recognize, the double doors however told you that you now occupied Tony's bed.  Looking around, you saw that while it might look similar to your room, it was in fact much bigger with three doors along one wall.  Above the bed proved another difference however and this one made you wish you could reach a bathroom.  Where the window in your room sat above the bed, here Tony had a mirror running the full length of the bed with the same ceiling window on either side.

Tearing your gaze away from the scene above, you looked once more at your naked form, but this time instead of being secured to the bed your hands and feet were simply bound together.  Giving you a bit more freedom, but still not allowing you to move, a noise off to your right brought your attention back to the three doors.  All of a sudden, the single one opened and there before you stood a dripping wet Tony Stark, draped in a black towel that left very little to the imagination.  Winking over at you, he made his way to the other two doors before emerging a short time later in boxers that were no better than the towel.  Rounding the bed and sitting on the couch you now just noticed, Tony couldn't help but admire the effort you made to roll onto your side in order to face him.  It seemed your determination and perseverance were fast becoming his favorite qualities.

Taking your time to catch your breath after the effort moving took, the look on his face did nothing to quell your rising anger or frustration.  "Well Mr. Stark, I guess it's safe to say you look pretty good for a dead man.  Do I get to find out what's in store for me now or later?"

"Oh Y/N . . .," he smiled, rising from the couch and laying down next to you on the bed.  "what I have planned for you will totally depend on the path you choose to take going forward."

"Path?  What path?  I can't believe you're actually going to give me a choice in any of this."

Sliding his hand along your side, he smiled broadly before cupping your face to make you look at him.  "You know, with as smart as you are you should be way higher up in the company.  How come you've never once applied for any promotional opportunity?" he asked, failing miserably to put you at ease.

"I already told you, I was happy where I was.  I was good at my job and it was well paying, while still affording me ample time to enjoy various hobbies.  Not everyone needs to be lord of everyone else." you directed at him.

"Lord of everyone?" he scoffed, his other hand stalling on your left thigh.  "Is that what you think of me?  Excuse me for seeing something I want and going after it.  As circumstances and you keep proving, life can be quite short.  One never knows when it might end."

"But I'm not something, Mr. Stark.  I'm someone.  Someone who's not interested in being your flavor of the month or however long you plan on playing with me."

"Oh darling, no.  No no no.  You're not a flavor of the month.  You're my forever.  All you have to do is choose it."

Bursting out laughing at this ridiculous statement, you rolled over onto your back again as you tried to compose yourself.  "I think I might have cut off too much air to your brain when I tried to smother you, because I honestly don't see any scenario where I agree to be yours."

Propping both of you up against the headboard, you cringed as he placed his arm around your waist before speaking again.  "Let's watch a little visual presentation and then you tell me where you stand."  With that a tv screen rose from what you thought was a box at the end of the bed, while Tony played around with the watch on his wrist.  As the screen came to life, your eyes widened when he opened a file titled 'New York Mob.'

Sebastian, Sabrina, Anthony, Scarlett, Jeremy, Chris and Brie, all possible known information about each and every one of them was displayed in eye opening clarity.  Tony it seemed had been thorough.  So thorough, you thought, that he could probably teach the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. a thing or two.  Looking as the information continued to scroll by, accompanied by an array of private pictures, your blood ran cold when you realized, this was his leverage.  While he had told you he didn't want a war with Sebastian, it seemed he was more than willing to mobilize the Avengers if necessary to keep you with him.

Turning off the screen when he felt your tears fall on his chest, he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms tenderly around you.  "You know you can keep them safe, right darling?  Just say you're mine and Steve, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Bruce need never know of their existence."

Wiping your tears, you managed to pull yourself free of his arms before glaring up at him.  "Are you out of your freaking mind?  You're a goddamn Avenger.  Heroes don't do this sort of shit."

"You're right Y/N, this is the kind of thing your friends do all too frequently.  But good girls also don't behave the way you do.  Now come here, say you're mine or by god you can face the consequences." he threatened as he held out his arms to you.

Figuring the worst he could do was shock you until you were gratefully unconscious again, you turned away from him, before curling into a ball and waiting for the painful darkness that never came.

                    *************

Snatching you up, while you fought as best you could, Tony sat back down on the couch, before placing your bound form across his lap and his left hand on your back.  Feeling his right hand massage your ass cheeks, you turned your head to face him as you realized knocking you out would be a blessing compared to what he had planned.

"Mr. Stark . . . Tony . . . you win.  I'm yours.  Now how about we get something to eat and discuss this future you envisioned?" you suggested, with as much fake sincerity as your frightened body could muster.

Having freed your legs and smiling broadly, Tony continued to stroke your ass as he leaned forward and kissed your lips before meeting your terrified gaze.  "Seven to ten minutes darling.  That's how long it takes to properly suffocate someone.  Shall we see how long it takes for my proud little girl to beg?"  With that, his hand left your ass before coming back down sharply.

Eyes fixed on the floor and thinking of all the ways you would love to see him suffer as a means to distract yourself, you let out a cry somewhere around slap nine, when this time it seemed the nanoparticle armor had made an appearance.  Not knowing how much time had passed, six more rapid blows of metal against flesh had your ass stinging and tears falling from your eyes.  Turning to face him once again, this time you hoped your current state could swing the situation in your favor.  "Tony please, it hurts so freaking much.  Stop this and I will say, do and be whatever you want."

"Aw Y/N, darling, we've only been at this a few minutes.  You and I both know your stubborn streak is much stronger than this.  Besides, I can tell when you're lying.  Now if you don't mind, I have some work to get back to."

Knowing you had failed to appeal to him, you renewed your efforts to free yourself, only for Tony to increase the pressure of his hand on your back.  Raining down many more metal slaps on each cheek, a scream ripped through you and your struggles died down when Tony spit on your ass before plugging you up with what you now knew to be a nano-cock.  You didn't know if it was sheer stubbornness or hatred that kept you from passing out, but as Tony picked up your crying, trembling form and placed you back on the bed, you were more determined than ever not to submit to him.

Wiping the tears from your eyes as he once again secured your hands to the bed, Tony couldn't help but lean closer to whisper in your ear.  "No more tears now, be my good girl and everything your heart desires will be yours."

"What my heart desires right now is to see you bleeding at my feet." you spat, moving around to head butt him once again.  "Ow fuck, that hurt."

Collapsing back down on the bed while trying to ignore the throbbing in your forehead, you watched as Tony rubbed his head before moving down the bed and discarding his boxers.  Then taking hold of your legs, he quickly secured each one to the bed with soft rope.  "Y/N, I really don't know what I did to warrant this level of hostility.  Where's the polite young lady who dropped off those files to my meeting Wednesday morning hmm?"

"Where she's been, is held captive by a delusional billionaire playboy who doesn't get that not every woman he meets wants to suck his cock."

Having settled himself between your legs, he seemed to contemplate what you said as one hand stroked his length, before the other made its way to your waiting folds. Once there, he then proceeded to slap your mound until tears and curses fell from your body once again.  "See darling this is the fundamental problem we're having right here." he smirked, as he ran his fingers along your slit before plunging inside.  "You run from me, claim you want nothing to do with me.  Hell, you even try to kill me, yet your body still craves my touch."  To prove his point, he withdrew his digits and brought them to your lips.

Opening your mouth when his other hand left his shaft to grab the nano-cock in your ass and push it deeper, his slick fingers entered your mouth, forcing you to taste your body's reaction to him.  Working in tandem, his other hand began moving the nano-cock at a steady pace, while your mouth hungrily latched onto his fingers.  In no time at all, shame bloomed within you as your back arched and the grin on Tony's face confirmed that he knew you had just come.

"Well now Y/N, what a way to prove me right.  Shall we try for another one?"  With that he removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them instead to your swollen clit.  Slapping it again, while continuing to move the cock in your ass, the nanoparticles and ropes kept you exactly where he wanted you.  Your demeanor changed dramatically however, when he slipped two fingers into your pussy and began pumping them and the nano-cock in and out of your body while his lips latched onto your clit.

"Oh my fucking god Tony, what the hell are you doing?" you cried out as your body fought not only the restraints, but the intense pleasure now radiating upwards and outwards from your core.  Now crying full on tears, this was a level of pleasure you had never before experienced and it scared you to think what the end result would be.  As Tony worked faster and harder, your breathing reached the point where you could no longer string two words together and as the nanoparticles loosened around your wrists, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and you saw black.

Coming around a few minutes later, an empty feeling in your ass told you the nano-cock had been removed while the smuggest looking Tony Stark you had ever come across, gently trailed his fingers up and down your over sensitive and tender folds.  "There's my beautiful Y/N." he said, as he leaned down to kiss your lips, while you were too tired to currently fight him.

Looking around, you discovered that you were no longer tied down to the bed, but for some reason your body also seemed to have trouble responding to your commands.  Sensing your rising confusion, Tony stopped his actions and instead focused all his attention on you before speaking.  "It's okay darling, everything is fine.  I just wore you out a bit is all." he smirked as he continued explaining.  "Your orgasm was so intense, that you actually passed out on me.  Thankfully the nanoparticles reassured me that nothing was wrong."  Leaning forward to kiss you once more, he brought his lips directly to your ear before whispering, "Tell me Y/N, am I the first man to ever make you squirt?"

Looking up at him in abject horror, your voice finally seemed to return to you, even if the rest of your mental faculties still seemed to be rearranging themselves.  "Squirt?  Tony what the fuck are you talking about and could you please stop doing that." you exclaimed, as his hand returned to your pussy while his mouth lavished attention on each of your tits.

Looking up at you, you couldn't recall ever seeing Tony Stark so proud of himself and that look alone almost made you feel sick.  "You soaked the sheets darling.  There's cum and fluid everywhere.  It was glorious.  V.I.R.G.I.L. taped it, I can replay it if you want."

As the vaguest memory of what had occurred finally bloomed in your mind, you at last returned to your senses and scrambled as far away for him as you could physically get.  "Jesus no, Mr. Stark.  What you can do is erase that fucking video right now and get it through your thick head that what happened will not, I REPEAT WILL NOT happen again."

"Oh, so I see we're back to Mr. Stark are we?  Well that just isn't going to work for me." he huffed out, as he moved quicker than you ever thought possible and had you once more held down on the bed beneath him.  Fighting back as best you could, the battle was lost when Tony sat atop your thighs before caging both your wrist in his powerful hand.  "Here's what's going to happen darling and I don't want to hear any complaints from you.  First I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours so good you'll never let another man near it.  Not that I'll ever let that happen anyway." he said, as your eyes followed his other hand down to where it stroked his now hard, red and leaking shaft.

"Then," he quickly added, noticing you were about to argue, "I'm going to fill you with so much cum that you'll always have a part of me inside you.  Afterwards we are going to move to the kitchen where you and I are going to enjoy a nice dinner before getting to know each other better.  Do I make myself clear?" he finally asked, as the tv returned to show images of your friends silently scrolling along the screen.

Reluctantly admitting defeat but too stubborn to let him see you break, you turned your gaze away from the screen to focus on him.  "O-okay T-tony," you croaked out as a victorious smile bloomed across his face and his lips moved down to capture yours in a searing kiss.

With that, he quickly removed himself from your thighs and parting your legs, lined his aching cock up with your now abused entrance before gently sliding home.  Failing to control the moans that left your lips as he set up a surprisingly tender rhythm, Tony was totally taken aback when he released your hands only to have them latch onto his shoulders as your legs left the bed to wrap around his waist.  It seemed for all your protests and complaints, Tony had been right about one fundamental point . . . your body craved the feelings he pulled from it.

Pulling out to just the tip and then thrusting back in just as slowly so your walls felt every vein and ridge of his impressive member, Tony kept up this slow, torturous pace until you couldn't stand it any longer.  "Oh for fuck’s sake Tony, put me out of my misery and fuck me like you promised."

Having finally gotten the desired result, Tony smirked down at you before releasing your legs from his waist and shoving them forward as far as they would go.  Now able to pound into you at a deeper angle, his cock reached places you never knew could feel so good.  Hitting your cervix and rubbing deliciously over your g-spot you finally gave voice to the pleasure he was working out of you.  "Ah yes Tony, right there.  That's it, please don't stop.  Fuck!" you begged as you tried your best to thrust against him.

"Oh my beautiful girl, you never have to beg me for anything and I have no intention of stopping." Tony panted while gazing down on you.  True to his word, Tony continued to pound into you and as he felt your walls begin to clench around his length, he reached his hand down between your joined bodies and began to apply enough pressure on your swollen clit to make you come undone.

"Ahh fuck.  Uhhh, make me come Tony."

Getting the hint that you were so close to the edge that you simply needed a little extra push, Tony looked into your eyes as he placed his mouth over your left breast and bit into your tender flesh.  Hearing the scream as your walls clamped down on his aching member, it was now Tony's turn to curse as his balls clenched up and both of you came in a torrent of cum and tangled limbs.

                    *************

Laying down beside you as you both began to recover from your release, Tony failed to notice the tears leaking from your eyes as you rolled onto your side with your back to his chest.  Wrapping his arms around you, he placed countless kisses all over your neck and shoulders while his hands roamed over your chest.  Once he heard your breathing return to normal, he released his hold on you before rising from the bed.  "Okay darling, let's get you cleaned up so we can see about that dinner I promised you."

Holding out his hand to help you from the bed, you couldn't remember a time when your body ached so much.  Leading you to the door he exited earlier, Tony opened the door to the luxury shower and ushered you inside.  Leaning against the tiled wall as the water hit your body, you jerked away when Tony came up behind you and lined his body up perfectly with yours.  "Easy darling, it's only me." he whispered as he handed you the bottle of shampoo.  Gazing down at the bottle, Tony seemed to understand what you were thinking and quickly used his powerful arms to cage yours by your side.

"Don't even think about it Y/N.  You've already proven you don't value your own life, but Sabrina's seems to be a different story.  All I have to do is have F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert Steve and your friend is nothing but a distant memory."  Dropping the bottle as the fight died in you, Tony released you to pick it up as you slumped against the wall.

However as the tears you were shedding had now dried up, your anger seemed to have returned and turning around as he neared you again, you raised your fist and connected squarely with Tony's jaw.  "You may have proven that my body craves you and you may hold my fate and that of my friends in your hands, but I will never accept being yours." you spat as Tony reached out and forcefully grabbed you by the hair.

Pulling your face close to his, he kissed you hungrily and spit in your mouth, before pushing you onto your knees and shoving his cock against your lips.  "Bite me darling and the New York Mob will witness a massacre the likes of which has never been seen." was all he said as he squeezed your jaw and thrust his length down your throat.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @gotnofucks , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

[just-another-ficwriter]

Holidate - Part Three

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader, Past!Reggie x Reader

Words: 2300ish

Warnings: Cheating, stealing

Summary: Tired of being alone on holidays, Sweet Pea and Y/N decide to be each other’s plationic plus-ones all year round. What could go wrong?

Notes: I don’t know why I always make Katy Keene the villain when honestly I love her!!!

Valentine’s Day 2021

“Okay, what about this one?”

Y/N looks up from the invitation designs she’s been pretended to be interested in for the last ten minutes to see Betty already shaking her head at the sample Polly’s holding up.

“Too boring.” She finds it hard not to huff in annoyance when Betty starts shuffling through the pile in front of her once again.

Too much decoration.

It’s the wrong colour.

Not enough decoration.

The fonts all wrong.

Y/N hadn’t realised picking something so simple like a wedding invitation could be so difficult.

But then again, Betty Cooper had always been a perfectionist.

“So Y/N...” Veronica starts. Even her sister’s best friend, who had been more than happy this morning to help with all things ‘wedding planning’ was desperate to change the subject at this point. “Any plans for tomorrow?”

All four pairs of eyes fall onto her, and she suddenly wishes Betty would go back to her rant about comic sans again. “Actually I have a date.”

“You do?” Polly tilts her head in surprise, looking at the faces of the others to see if they were just as much in the dark as she was.

“Is it with Pea again?” Toni asks with a smirk. It’s not the first time she’d brought him up since the start of the year.

Veronica leans forward, eyebrows raising with interest as she teases. “Oh, tall dark and handsome from the party?”

“If you must know, it’s with a bottle of wine and my bathtub.” Y/N’s the only one to laugh at her own joke, the others just shake their heads in disappointment. “I might even treat myself to a fancy box of chocolates.”

She’s sure the conversation about her love life, or lack there off, was over when Toni playfully slaps at her arm, but Betty, whose taken to organising the samples in piles, has other ideas.

“Toni could totally set the two of you up.” Betty lifts her gaze long enough to eye her sister and then their friend. “Right Toni?”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much.” Y/N frowns. She knew they all had good intentions but their need to always interfere was getting tiresome. She’d rather just find someone her own way, in her own time, rather than having some poor unsuspecting guy thrust upon her by the people in her life who just couldn’t help themselves.

She shudders at the thought of their last failed attempt. “I don’t need a date, tomorrow is just another Sunday.”

“Did something happen?” Veronica asks, sounding almost disappointed.

“Nothing happen.” Y/N sighs. “There was just no spark.”

“Oh please!” Toni practically jumps from her seat at his defence. “I’ve seen Pea with girls at the bar, and he’s never looked at any of them the way he was looking at you.”

Y/N makes a face to hide the flush heating her cheeks. “And that right there, is my cue to leave.”

“But I haven’t even picked the invites yet!” Betty cries out as the others groan in unison.

“Betts I love you-“ She pauses to shrug on her coat and pat the blonde sympathetically on the shoulder. “But there’s only so much of staring at bits of paper I can take.”

And then she’s gone, waving her goodbyes as she slips out of the shop and into the crowds of the busy mall with a sigh of relief.

She’s almost made it to her car when she passes a little chocolate shop on the lower level and feels her steps start to slow. She had mentioned to the others about possibly treating herself to some fancy chocolates so it wouldn’t hurt to at least have a little look.

She half way through browsing their selection, three boxes in hand as she weaves her way through the panicked men buying last minute Valentine’s gifts, when she hears a voice that makes her heart sink.

She jumps when he calls her name, the contents of her hands clattering to the floor. “Y/N Cooper is that you?”

She dives after the chocolate, afraid to look up. Maybe it’s not him she thinks. But then he’s on the floor with her, handing her back a box of truffles and she sneaks a look. Same slicked back dark hair, same breath taking smile he’d given her eight years ago on the football field.

She wants the ground to open and swallow her whole. “Reggie, hi.”

“You look... great Y/N/N.” He helps her off the floor and she has to stop herself from physically recoiling at his touch. Of all the people and all the places in Riverdale, of course Reggie Mantle would just so happen to be here at the exact same time as her. It was almost like a cruel joke. “How are you?”

“I’m-“ She’s cut off by a beautiful brunette wrapping herself around his arm, and her heart drops further. She recognises her face.

She’d seen her in the engagement photos on Facebook. She’d seen her sprawled out on Reggie’s desk two years before.

“Reggie! Here try this.” She ignores Y/N completely as she smiles playfully at the man between them. Reggie’s back to giving her his full attention as he opens his mouth so she can slip a chocolate onto his tongue. His lips close again around her fingers, moaning at the taste, and Y/N would rather be anywhere but here.

“Who’s this?” Katy finally acknowledges her and Reggie gives her a some what apologetic grimace.

Neither of them get the chance to answer before Sweet Pea appears suddenly out of nowhere and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “There you are doll, are you ready to checkout?”

“What?” Y/N blinks up at him, a little stunned.

“You were meant to meet me outside remember?” A bright neon sign would be more subtle than the look Sweet Pea’s giving her, pleading her to just go with it. “So are ready?”

“Oh yeah, sure-“

“Wait aren’t you going to introduce us?” Sweet Pea feels her tense up besides him at Reggie’s question, and pulls her closer.

“I uh- Sweet Pea this is my ex Reggie and his fiancé Katy.” Reggie nods slowly, eyeing Sweet Pea up and down. She can already hear his judgements about his name alone. “Reggie this is Sweet Pea-“

“Her boyfriend.” Sweet Pea interjects and Y/N cough to hide her surprise. “We should get going, it was nice to meet you.”

Y/N’s quick to agree, grabbing his arm and pulling him a little too harshly around the confused couple and out of the store.

A few minute later they’re out in the car park, Sweet Pea leaning against the hood of her car, watching her pace back and forth in a frenzy. She’d barely said a word to him since the two had run off.

“What the hell was that?” Her state of shock finally breaks, spinning to him with wide eyes. Had he really announced they were a couple back there?

“That was me saving you.” He smirks, a little too satisfied. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Oh god that was awful I think I might be sick-“ She cuts herself off with a horrified gasp, glancing down at her hands. Three boxes of unpaid chocolates still clutched tightly. “Shit! I didn’t even pay for these!”

Sweet Pea watches her spiral further and grabs her arms to stop a total panicked melt down.

“Hey- hey it’s okay.” He says carefully, encourage her to regulate her breathing before some stolen Valentine treats push her over the edge. “Maybe if we just eat them quickly, hide the evidence, they’ll never know.”

Y/N blinks, slowly nodding in agreement before handing a box over.

They sit there in comfortable silence for a while, picking out their favourites before Sweet Pea speaks out again. “So I’m gonna guess by the three boxes of chocolate that you have no date for tomorrow?”

She feels her cheek flush at his observation and shrugs. “No, I guess not.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” He asks, before reaching for another truffle.

“I don’t know.” She smiles a little sadly, cheeks burning a deeper red. “I guess I was embarrassed.”

“Well that offer to be my date still stands. Standing up again, Sweet Pea holds a hand out to her with a grin. “And you do kind of owe me now.”

Y/N finds herself accepting without hesitation.

-

“Can I ask you a question?” Sweet Pea’s laid on the picnic blanket besides her, leg stretched out as he picks at the label on his beer bottle.

The day had been a lot more fun than she’d been expecting. Y/N had gone in worrying about awkward questions regarding their relationship, fearing judgement from those who knew him best but they’d been nothing but welcoming. Even his best friend and room mate Fangs, had insisted she join them for drinks at the Wyrm that night, not taking no for answer.

She’d even enjoyed the look on both her Mom’s and Betty’s faces when they’d shown up together, confessing that her little joke at the mall the day before had been nothing but that, and she did in fact, have a date.

“Sure.” She shrugs, taking a swig from her own bottle. “Can’t promise I’ll answer it though.”

He chuckles at the way she smirks at him before asking. “Why are you single?”

“Woah, straight to the point.” She chokes a little in surprise.

“Sorry it’s just I’m not blind Y/N, you’re an attractive woman.” Sweet Pea casually points out. “Is it to do with that guy from the mall yesterday?”

“Reggie?” She pulls a face, and turns quickly away from him so she doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time.” He discard his drink to the side, moves an inch closer to show her he’s willing to listen if she wants to open up, so she does.

Things had been good at the start. Y/N Cooper and Reggie Mantle, high school sweethearts.

Reggie had been the first to show interest, where Y/N had been more resistant, weary of their age gap, little or not, and the fact he was younger than her. But he was nothing but persistent, insisting he wouldn’t give up until she agreed to at least one date with him at Pops, and so eventually she gave in.

A few cheesy jokes and a cheeky grin over a cheeseburger and suddenly he was all she could think about.

They dated through her senior year, promised to make it work when she went off to NYU and he stayed behind to finish school back at home. After a year of weekend visits and driving to Riverdale as quickly as she could every break, Reggie joined her out in New York, the two of them at college together, practically living at each other’s dorms until they graduated.

They managed to find jobs at their dream professions, moved into a little apartment that they made their own, everything seemed perfect.

Until one day, Y/N decided to surprise him at work for lunch, only to find him a little preoccupied with his beautiful assistant.

Katy Keene.

Just the memory alone makes her chest tighten, even if part of her feels a little relieved to have it all out in the open. Toni was the only other person to know the full story, so it was nice to have someone else’s perspective.

“So that’s it? One bad experience with a guy put you off dating?” He questions, earning him an awkward laugh from her end. “Not all men are Reggie Mantle.”

“It’s not just that Pea...” She’s sighs. There’s so much to the story he doesn’t know, things she isn’t willing to share the details of. “All the men in my life have lied and let me down, even the ones who aren’t meant to.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Sweet Pea arches an eyebrow and watches her struggle with the answer.

“My dad he-“ She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. She wasn’t ready for this right now, especially not when she’d already been so open about her past today. That, and the fact that she was enjoying talking to someone that didn’t look at her and only see the pain her father had caused. “He wasn’t a good person and it’s hard to trust someone when even your own father lies to your face.”

She’s caught off guard when he reaches over and places a warm hand over hers. When she looks up she’s met with eyes full of nothing but genuine honesty. “You can trust me.”

There’s no doubt in a mind to make her think otherwise.

For a second she swears she sees his eyes flicker down to her lips, but then he’s pulling away, awkwardly fumbling to sit up straight and the moments over just as quickly as it started.

“What are you doing for Saint Patrick’s Day?” The question slips out, a filler for the sudden uncomfortable silence between them before she starts to ramble. “I know it’s not really a typical holiday but my sisters usually come to New York and we’ve kind of made it a tradition to bar hop through as many places as we can before getting black out drunk.”

He can’t help but laugh, giving her a chance to catch her breath before she can get to the point. “I could use a date.”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

Holidate Masterlist

Forever Tag List: @p-marie-sp

Sweet Pea Taglist: @80sand90simagine @hopelesslylosttheway @be-gay-do-crime-cutie

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 1

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : I know I said I’d wait. But y’all have been clamoring...

Death has a way of manipulating time. Moments meant to go slowly end in a blink, while junctures that ought to speed past, linger like dew on the vine...

Carla Montanari stared at her mother’s corpse, waiting for her to move. Waiting for the only family she’d ever had to open her eyes and say it was all a joke. Her mother had always had a cutting sense of humor; no topic was off-limits, and as she aged, death was a favored punchline. Now, it seemed, her mother had pulled off the ultimate prank, though Carla failed to see the humor in it.

The mortician had done an excellent job all things considered, but Carla could still pick out the differences between the body that lay at the altar of Saint Vincent’s and the one she had grown up with. A jaw that had been given too much lift, makeup that was a shade or two darker than what her mother normally wore, wrinkles that had disappeared when her face had been sewn back together. She’d been told she was lucky to get an open-casket service at all, given how much trauma her mother had suffered, as if it were some sort of consolation prize.

Looking behind her, Carla did a headcount of those in attendance, smiling softly when she saw that her mother’s bingo group were all in attendance, each woman donning their Sunday best in order to pay their respects. What her mother lacked in family, she’d more than made up for in friends who were all cut from the same cloth. Good, salt-of-the-earth people. Carla had always envied how easily her mother made friends, how she could chat up anyone, no matter how different their background and find something in common. It was a skill she hadn’t passed down, leaving her daughter to carve out a small handful of friends who were more acquaintances than anything else. 

Crossing herself, Carla took a deep breath, looked down at her mother once more, and finally leaned down to kiss the cold, clammy skin of her forehead, doing her best to ignore the faint waft of formaldehyde that filled the casket. A solitary white rose tucked beneath her mother’s hands was Carla’s final act before turning away. 

Time blinked, and she found herself seated across from her mother’s lawyer, a slab of mahogany separating them, the coffee she’d been offered growing cold as the AC hit it from overhead.

“I suppose we can do away with formality, since it’s just you,” the older man said, his smile tight and distant. Carla nodded, feeling as though the man wanted to be done so he could attend to other, more important, matters. 

“Your mother left all her possessions and accounts to you, no surprise there. She gifted her friends each an item from her apparently extensive purse collection, so we’ll facilitate that for you. The accounts are all in order, and what isn’t used to pay off her final bills, will be transferred to your account by the end of the month. Lastly, there’s the matter of the inheritance. This may be news to you, but your grandmother set up an inheritance in your name when you were born. Initially, it was meant to pay for college, but when you got your full ride, your mother decided to keep it going until her passing. Her hope was to give you a nice nest egg for retirement, or your first house...something to that effect.” 

Carla looked down at the document, counting and recounting the total in disbelief. Her mother had always been terrible at keeping secrets, having given away things to her friends that had mortified Carla when she was younger. 

Guess you were better at it than I thought.

Inhaling deeply, Carla sat back in her chair, hoping the meeting was over. The quicker she could get out into the fresh air, the better off she’d be. 

“There’s one more thing,” her mother’s lawyer said, keeping Carla rooted to her seat even as the muscles in her legs twitched in readiness to stand up. “Your mother wanted to ensure you were aware of the fact that you have legal claim to Italian citizenship, if you should ever choose to take it. They call it Jure Sanguinis; Right of Blood. The process can be expedited, given that you’re only second generation American. Sign here and we can get it in motion for you.” 

Carla signed blindly, eyes unblinking as she tried to process the information. Her mother had always been a planner, but had never once mentioned so much as a will to Carla. Now, seeing everything packaged up so neatly, her mind spun wildly.

“Think you know a person…” She muttered mostly to herself, the lawyer giving her another one of his performative smiles, his eyes going to his watch for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. 

Leaving the office with a folder and the untouched coffee, Carla couldn’t help but feel time begin to crawl, reinforcing the feelings of numbness and solitude that would haunt her for weeks to come.

Working steps from Wall Street had its perks. Tips were usually far more generous than in other parts of town, fights were rare, and drunk girls crying over their shitty boyfriends were nonexistent. None of that made it any easier, however. Frat boys turned into day traders, socialites grew even more entitled as their brunches turned into botox appointments, and there was never a shortage of patronizing stares for those that had to actually work for a living. For Carla, navigating the catcalls, one-liners, and straight-up sexual misconduct was easy enough; it was the entitlement that never failed to get under her skin. 

“Um, hello? Waitress? This is wrong. I asked for a Negroni.” Looking up, Carla swept her long black hair over her shoulder as she processed the words that were spoken. Having decided to keep living life as though things hadn’t irrevocably changed, Carla was doing her best to ignore the stress that had been slowly creeping higher and higher each day. Busy nights at the bar were proving the worst, with Carla coming through the door at the end of her shift ready to rant about the night to her mother, only to find the place pin-drop silent and utterly empty. 

Looking down at the drink, Carla gazed back up at the woman with the blond, news anchor hair and cocked her head to the side in confusion. 

“That is a Negroni.” 

“Uh,” the woman snorted in disbelief, “no it’s not. Remake it, and do it right this time.” 

“This is a Negroni. One part gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari each, with a peel of lemon.” The woman laughed condescendingly and Carla could feel her patience start to disappear. 

“No, a Negroni, if you knew anything about bartending--which you clearly don’t--is made with Rye and dry vermouth.”

“Lady, I make at least ten of these a night. I work six nights a week. You’re the first, and only, person to ever tell me it’s wrong. You’re thinking of an Old Pal, and I’d be more than happy to make that for you, but this? This is a Negroni, which is what you asked for.”

“Fine, we’ll see about that.” The woman huffed, her manicured hand slicing through the air in a dismissive motion. 

“That’ll be $10.99.”

“Absolutely NOT! I’m not paying for your mistake. Make it again, make it right, and make it now!” The woman crowed, her hair imobile as she shook her head, looking for all the world like Carla had slapped her.

“It’s a different drink. You paid for a Negroni, you got a Negroni. You want an Old Pal, you pay for an Old Pal.” Carla replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for the woman to make up her mind. 

The alcohol burned Carla’s eyes and she stumbled back in shock, moving towards the large sink she knew was behind her on pure instinct. Washing her face to get as much of the cocktail off as she could, she knew she’d reached her breaking point. 

Any other time and she’d have brushed it off, had security kick the woman out and gone about her night. Now? She’d had enough. Moving slowly to the back, Carla took off her apron, hung it up next to her coworkers’ and slipped out the back door. 

Nearly sprinting the whole way home, it was only as she stepped through the door of her apartment that the tears came unbidden. Sliding down the wall, Carla cried for the first time since her mother’s passing. 

The next morning, after calling in her notice, Carla allowed herself a day to simply be. To scream, to cry, to let out all the emotions that had befallen her since answering the phone that fateful night and hearing that her mother had died in such a vicious and preventable way. She let rage fill every vein as she thought about how the person who hit her hadn’t even bothered to stay at the scene. She lamented every missed moment, every fight, every what-if. Finally, she curled up in her mother’s robe, and cried herself to sleep.

Knowing she couldn’t handle another day at a bar like the one on Wall Street, catering to bratty adults who’d never been told no a day in their lives, Carla began leaning more and more towards escaping it all. Her now-empty apartment, her routine assortment of familiar faces (none of whom had even bothered to call and offer condolences), and more than anything, the city itself; all of it seemed worthless and foreign without her mother’s smiling face. As she sat and scrolled through picture after picture on her phone, the promise of a new life in Italy seemed more feasible, and more and more necessary.

On day three, after a day spent mostly in bed, dreaming about the possibilities of what life could bring now that she was committed to leaving, Carla put in a call to the lawyer, vaguely remembering the document she’d signed. There was nothing but relief when she was told they were simply waiting for a few more documents to finalize it all. 

With the foundation for her new life in place, Carla began to flesh out the bones, focusing her research on where to live, and who was hiring. Though the inheritance was enough to live comfortably for several years, Carla didn’t want to squander it. Moreover, she still wanted to work and feel useful in some way; early retirement could wait.

While she was spoilt for choice when it came to renting, a job was harder to come by. Carla started her search with the lofty goal of finding something where she could put her history degree to good use; a research assistant, a curator, hell, a tour guide. When it became clear that her lack of experience was a hurdle she wouldn’t be able to cross so easily, Carla reluctantly turned to what she knew. 

Weeks went by like thick molasses as she looked at bar after bar, finding that they either weren’t hiring, or looked like the kind of place people went into and never came out of. Her options were narrow to start with, since Carla had her heart set on Rome, the need to entrench herself in one of the world’s oldest cities, one she couldn’t possibly ignore. With each day that passed, she felt her dream beginning to slip away. Carla was nothing if not tenacious, one of the few traits she’d shared with her mother, and despite feeling discouraged at her prospects, she kept looking.

Finally, as the clock nearly ran out on her deadline to provide proof of employment, Carla found the perfect spot. Though the bar catered to a higher-end clientele, gone were the stockbrokers and lawyers, and in their place, a younger, cooler set. Attracted to the dark, almost feral, atmosphere the bar promised in its advertising, Carla applied, crossing her fingers in the hopes that they’d call. 

She was still browsing the site when her phone rang and the owner greeted her in a thick, Italian accent. Breezing through the interview questions, Carla’s eyes roved over the pictures of all the beautiful people that frequented the night spot, pulled in by how effortlessly cool each of them looked. With the promise to call her by the end of the week to confirm the position, the owner ended the call, and it was all Carla could do not to jump for joy. 

Flopping back on the bed, she couldn’t help but let herself feel true happiness, happiness which she’d unconsciously been denying herself while she mourned her mother’s death. Though she’d been dealt a life-changing blow, Carla felt as though, slowly but surely, time was going back to its usual pace, and her life was taking a turn for the better. 

With a smile from ear to ear, she sat back up and emailed the lawyer, confirming she’d gotten a job, an apartment, and a plane ticket to Rome. As the message zipped away and the window closed, Carla found her eyes drawn back to the website, and her new place of employment. 

Romulus

[dulce-pjm]

stepsisters and squires

word count: 11.0k

genre: fluff, angst

summary: as the story goes, the fairy godmother saved cinderella and sent her to ball. wrong. that was you. you were the one got the dress, the carriage, the glass slippers. but you’re also the one about to screw it all up. so much for happy endings. 

warnings: parents slapping their children, swearing, bad dancing?

“Cinderella. Fetch me my ribbons.”

A look of disdain crosses her face before she rolls her eyes, tugging a little harder on your corset.

“Fetch them yourself, bitch. And stop using that stupid nickname.”

You laugh obnoxiously from your belly, only to have the life squeezed out of your lungs when she yanks on the corset strings, nearly cutting off your oxygen. Your giggles are quickly cut off with a shout of pain.

“I’m kidding, Sowon!” You throw up your hands and gasp when she pulls again. “Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.”

“You’re much too dramatic,” the girl mumbles, though she’s struggling to hide her grin. You ignore her.

“These things really are torture devices, you know. I don’t understand the point of even wearing them tonight, it’s not like I’m getting married!”

“Isn’t the whole point of the ball to get you engaged?” she asks, eyebrows raised. You glare at her in the mirror, but her eyes stay pinned on the back of your dress. Her light bangs barely hang over her eyes, her shiny, loose curls framing her soft cheekbones perfectly. You’ve always been a tad jealous of her natural beauty, but despite your insistence on the fact that she’s gorgeous, she never takes your compliments. You suppose the innocent humility only adds to her charm.

“My mother might say that, but we both know she’ll never pull it off. I’d much rather pig out at the pastry table than pretend to be interested in a lifelong marriage with some boring rich guy.”

“Not even a hot boring rich guy?” she counters. You stop to ponder that for just a moment too long, making your stepsister of several years giggle, the sound sweet and tinkling.

“What is it?” you shout incredulously, only making Sowon laugh harder, desperately holding onto the corset strings in an effort not to undo her hard work. “If I’m gonna have to commit to someone for the rest of my life, I might as well enjoy looking at them.”

“You have no morals,” Sowon says between spurts of laughter, her cheeks and nose tinged bright pink. You’re smiling widely too, her comment sparking the memory of a certain someone.

“Morals are no fun,” you retort, shifting uncomfortably in your gown. “Are you finished back there? I’m gonna pass out if I have to keep this posture any longer.”

“Just finished.” Sowon steps back to admire her work, letting you spin in your deep magenta ballgown. The skirt is covered in lace and intricate floral designs, the sleeves puffed and hemmed at your forearms, just as you prefer them. Makes it easier to eat without dirtying the cuffs. Sowon always takes extra care with your dresses, never failing to make you feel like a princess. It’s another trait of hers she refuses to accept is just extraordinary. Obnoxiously humble as always.

Sowon adjusts a pin in your hair, fashioned into a braided low bun, with just a few stray curls hanging by your ears. You can’t help but smile, excitement tickling at your stomach. Once Sowon gives you the nod of approval, you spring into action.

“Alright, I better go check on Jin- What are you doing?!” She cries in surprise as you forcefully take her shoulders, and move her to your bed. She falls back onto the comforter, barely upright.

“Just stay there!” you shout, dashing towards your dresser. She’s doe-eyed, her brows raised and mouth cutely pouted as she watches you in utter confusion. You rifle through your drawers until you see a suitable piece of fabric, a satin blue ribbon from a previous gown. You snatch it and rush back to Sowon, moving to tie it around her eyes. She throws up her hands before you can, wrapping her fingers around the cloth.

“What’s going on? Are you trying to blindfold me?”

“It’s a surprise!” you whine. “And yes, stupid girl, I’m clearly trying to blindfold you. It adds to the surprise factor.” Sowon forces an awkward smile onto her face, lowering the ribbon to her lap.

“Can’t we do without the blindfold? Since, you know…” You loll your head to the side in confusion before you realize your utter insensitivity. Sowon’s absolutely terrified of the dark, though she’d never let you say that out loud. Ever since she’d halfway divulged the secret to you, you’d made sure there was a lamp full of oil and a box of matches by the attic door every single night, silently creeping through the hallways as to prevent your mother or brother from catching you. To others, it might seem childish, but you knew that years of being locked away in a cold, dim room with creaking walls and leaking ceilings would give anyone nightmares. In your excitement, you’d nearly forgotten her phobia.

“Oh, of course! Just… think you can close your eyes? Please?” You puff out your lip and bat your lashes, making Sowon’s eyes fly to the ceiling for guidance.

“Why can’t you just show me the surprise?”

“It’s not in here!” you huff, gesturing towards the door. “We have to go get it.”

“You want me to walk with my eyes closed?”

“I’ll guide you!” You grab her hands, squeezing pleadingly. “It’ll be fine, just trust me!” Sowon gives you a long look full of hesitance and suspicion, but seeing your genuine excitement, she eventually gives.

“Fine.” You break into a smile, and pull her to her feet, tugging her down the hall. At your request, Sowon squeezes her eyes shut, stumbling slightly as you weave through the halls of the manor, laughing at her yelps every time her foot barely catches on the carpet or a loose stone in the flooring. And she calls you dramatic.

You approach the one room Sowon never cleans, the storage closet you’ve secretly turned into a home for the surprise you’ve been planning over the past few months, ever since the ball was announced. You bring your stepsister to a halt, screaming when she barely opens her eyes for a moment. After checking the surroundings for any stray family members (who certainly would not approve of your endeavor), you unlock the door with the key you always keep on you, letting it swing open with a large creak.

“Here it is!” you cry, finally allowing Sowon to open her eyes. She looks at your project and then stares at you blankly.

“What is this?” You roll your eyes and grab her arm, tugging her into the poorly lit room and shutting the door behind you.

“It’s your dress!” You fling your arms proudly towards the soft pink gown. You’d spent every last penny you could to make it as extravagant and royalty-like as you could, paying for the hem to be decorated with bows and the waistline to be embroidered with pearls. You were especially proud of the sweetheart neckline, a daring fashion choice that you thought would suit Sowon perfectly. “For the ball tonight. I saved up some money secretly and had it made for you. I know it isn’t much but when mother said all that, I had the idea and I just wanted you to have a dress that made you feel as pretty as you always make me- oof!”

Your impromptu rambling is cut off when Sowon nearly tackles you in a hug, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. She sniffles into your neck, and while your mother might have screamed at the possibility of her saltwater tears ruining your clothes, your chest is swelling with pride. You wrap your arms around your stepsister, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers. “Thank you, Y/N.” You give her a soothing pat on the back before breaking up the hug and stepping away. There will be time for being sappy later, but now, there’s work to do.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no big deal. Now let’s put it on!” Sowon is smiling brightly, her cheeks practically glowing. Your roles are switched now as you’re the one attending to her attire, helping her pull the gown over her shoulders and lacing up an old corset of yours while she watches you through a large mirror you’ve leaned against the wall. You pretend not to notice the tears escaping past her lashes every few moments as she grins uncontrollably at her reflection. Her joy is contagious, infecting even your cynical mind. Even if you hate these stupid social events, seeing Sowon so excited made you remember that you had reasons to be excited too.

You pin up a few strands of hair and fasten a pearl comb into the crown of her scalp to compliment the dress. The gown you picked hugs her frame nearly perfectly despite the measurements being mostly guesswork. She looks stunning, absolutely regal, like she was made for this lifestyle. You finish up with only a few minutes to spare and step away, allowing her to bask in her own reflection. Now, tears are threatening to pour from your eyes as you take in your work. It wasn’t long ago that the younger girl barely spoke to you, her eyes always filled with fear and sorrow. There was only so much you could do for her under the hawk-eyes of your family, but you’re glad you’d done enough to see her this happy, even if only for a night.

“This is amazing, Y/N, I don’t know how I can thank you, but-”

“Thank me by coming tonight and dancing with a hot boring rich guy! But we can talk about that later.” Your voice lowers to a whisper. “Now, here’s the important part.” She leans in as you explain all of the preparations you’ve made over the past few months.

You tell her of the carriage and coachman ready for her a ten-minute walk away from town on the main road and which door to use to escape without one of your mother’s eyes and ears and catching her. You instruct her to wait exactly five minutes after you leave the room and then to sprint for the exit as fast as her legs would carry her without ruining her outfit. You tell her to stay away from your mother and brother, to avoid the main ballroom until after the first dances, at which time you, your mother, and Jin will move to the dining halls to mingle. And most importantly, you emphasize how imperative it is that she leave before midnight, before the servants lock the back doors and your mother is too tired to stay out any longer.

“Oh, and I almost forgot! Have fun and no matter how great it sounds, don’t drink the alcohol. It goes down like sugar but your head will be spinning in no time.” Sowon looks like her head is spinning now as she memorizes your instructions, nodding furiously.

“Okay, I won’t.” Her hands are shaking with anticipation, but you know her night of fun will quell the nerves. “You’re like a fairy godmother, you know.” You shrug lightly, pretending to flip your hair.

“What can I say? You deserve a magical night.” You smile earnestly before cracking open the door, making sure the coast is clear before you leave Sowon.

“Wait!” she whisper-yells before you can slip away. “What about shoes?” You nearly smack your hand against your forehead, internally scolding yourself for forgetting.

“There’s a box behind the mirror. Treat them well, they’re very fancy. Venetian glass. Custom fit, too.” Sowon laughs, assuring you that she will.

“Oh, don’t forget to tell your squire I said hello,” Sowon says teasingly as you step out into the hall. You rest your hand on your hip, giving her a knowing look.

“You know I won’t.”

“Really? Because that time I found you two it didn’t look like there was very much talking going on. I thought he was eating you ali-” You slam the door before she can finish, your cheeks heating. You can barely make out her laughter behind the thin walls as you scurry away to the front door, a dumb smile across your face.

You’d like to hope you both are in for a romantic night.

“You bitch.” Your mother’s hand smacks across your face and your head is forceful turned to the side. Jin watches you with slight sympathy in his expression, though he makes no move to aid you. He’s too much of a mother’s boy. “You helped her, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeat, straightening your spine.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jin chimes in, arms crossed. “You told me that dress was yours two months ago when it was delivered.” You glare in his direction, having hoped he would have forgotten the entire encounter by now.

“You dare lie to me?” You ignore her, instead focusing on your brother, the one person who should be your ally.

“I’m surprised your memory goes that far back,” you sneer. “With your intelligence, you’d think you were dropped on your head as a child.” Your mother gasps, making you hiss as she strikes you again. Jin attempts to mask his feelings with a look of apathy, but the flicker of insecurity that flashes across his features is enough to make you feel victorious.

Your mother presses her fingers to her temples, looking to the heavens for guidance.

“What did I do to deserve such a disobedient child?” You open your mouth to snap a smart reply, but quickly shut it when you notice her hand still raised.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Jin says.

“You’re right, you’re right,” your mother replies, massaging her forehead and scalp. “I’ll deal with you both in the morning. For now-” She glares pointedly at you. “You will stay in my sight for the rest of the ball. You will be cooperative and pleasant and receptive and you will do exactly as I say. You will dance with every man that I pick for you, even if he’s ninety, and you will not eat a single bite unless I say you may. Am I understood?” You nod defeatedly, eyes pinned to the floor as your mother huffs, dragging you out of the small side room and back into the fray.

It’s not Sowon’s fault, you could never be angry with her. How were you supposed to know they were going to announce everyone as they entered? She’d even thought to keep her real name to herself, though you could imagine that upon being asked, she’d panicked. As soon as a ‘Cinderella of Greenfield’ had been loudly introduced to the ballroom, your mother’s eyes had bulged out of her head and her face blanched of color. Within minutes she’d put your panicked expression and stepsister’s surprise appearance together and yanked you away from the crowd, unleashing her anger.

Your face falls further when you realize that this new development means you won’t see the one you’re really looking for, who you’re always looking for, really. You’d like to hope that even if you aren’t dancing with your ‘prince charming’ (a term that would make him cringe and groan), Sowon will at least have her own fun before the clock strikes twelve.

“Fix your posture.” You quickly straighten your spine, folding your hands neatly in front of you. You can already see your mother’s eyes scanning the premises, searching for a new victim- er, suitor. Your brother has already disappeared off to god-knows-where, probably chatting up another girl. You, however, don’t have such luxury when your mother believes it’s taking way too long to get you married off.

Despite your insistence that being single at twenty is in fact not the same thing as being an old maid, your mother pays no attention to your opinions on the subject.

You resist taking a swig from the champagne flute resting between your fingers, instead turning your attention to the dancing couples. The first few times you were allowed to attend these balls, the dancers seemed magical and heavenly and happy, dress skirts spinning in sparkly swirls of color. But the dance floor had long lost its glamour when you realized how political the act of dancing really was. No one danced because it was fun or romantic, they did it to secure their relationships, to sign the contract of their alliance without touching a pen. It was all about appearance and status. Dreams of waltzing with your one true love were crushed once your mother had shoved you into the arms of a man much older and much creepier than you would have ever wanted.

You could say with confidence now, however, that dancing isn’t anything close to a requirement when forming a romantic relationship. It’s honestly pretty boring. Shameless flirting and stolen kisses, however, are much more fun.

Too bad you wouldn’t be doing any of those things tonight.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” you ask, making your mother pinch your side. You do your best to ignore the pain.

The man you’ve been talking to for the past several minutes pauses, his sweet smile becoming strained.

“And- Oh, it’s Jimin.” You nod, pretending like you’ll remember it five minutes from now. You feel bad. The guy’s pretty cute, his dashing eye smile and boyish features making his cautious flirting all the more adorable. But it’s difficult to really appreciate his looks when your mind is occupied with other faces and names. Or, well, a very specific face and name.

“My apologies, her mind is always wandering,” your mother intrudes, leaning into your conversation as if she’s the one who’s supposed to be initiating a courtship and not you.

“It’s alright…” Jimin squirms uncomfortably under your mother’s scrutinizing stare.

“We really would love to know more about your father’s business. You are the eldest, correct?”

Jimin’s eyes flash from your blank expression to your mother’s eager one, before, like all the suitors before him, he realizes that this really isn’t the place he wants to be. He gives you an apologetic look before inventing some excuse about seeing a business friend and darting away before your mother can protest.

She turns to you, eyes ablaze.

“You’re acting like a petulant child,” she snaps. “Don’t expect to leave your room at all for at least a week. Keep this up and you’ll be lucky to have a single meal.”

“It’s not my fault!” You know you aren’t helping your case by being defensive, but at this point, you don’t care. You’re bored and miserable and your skin still stings where your mother slapped you. “You keep scaring them away!”

“Watch your tone.” It’s ironic, really. You could smile and flirt and be docile all day long, the only thing stopping your mother’s wishes of a suitor from coming true is your mother herself. She can’t help but question the hell out of every man who walks your way until they’re shaking in their dress shoes, fully regretting ever coming within your vicinity. You’ve never had a courtship last longer than a month, let alone make it past the first conversation. At least not one that your mother knows about.

Your mind wanders again to the vision of a snarky boy you’ve come to care for deeply, his thoughtful, coffee-colored eyes, his pouty lips. You’re grinning to yourself at the memory of his ever-stern expression breaking into a sheepish smile when you push just the right buttons, make just the right remark. There isn’t much you wouldn’t give to be talking with him rather than the men picked out by your mother, but, alas, not all dreams come true.

“Ow!”

Your toes ache when your new suitor clumsily steps on them, his palm sweaty and nervous against yours. He quickly panics at your expression but continues the waltz.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” he whispers, awkwardly twirling you under his arm, just as his foot slams onto yours again. You wince. The poor kid might be your age, but it seems he still isn’t quite used to the lanky limbs puberty gave him. He’s barely even dancing at this point, mostly just stumbling across the floor and stringing you along. You wonder if this is his first ball, because it took a good ten minutes for you to coach him into actually leading you, instead of the other way around.

“It’s really okay,” you assure him, noticing his blonde strands falling into his face. You were scared out of your mind the first time you danced, too, though probably for entirely different reasons.

“I promise I’m not usually this awful,” he insists. “I broke my glasses just before I got here, so everything’s pretty blurry.” You sympathize with him. Awful vision and carefully maneuvered dancing don’t exactly pair well together.

“Namjoon, was it?” He nods, flashing a small, dimpled smile. “This your first time?”

His grin turns sheepish. “Was it that obvious?” You shake your head, but then wonder if he can even tell, if his dancing is truly a reflection of his poor eyesight.

“No, I just hadn’t seen you before. I attend most of these things.” Namjoon relaxes at the casual conversation, glad to be talking as peers and not potential spouses.

“Really? Don’t you get tired of them?”

“All the fucking time.” Namjoon’s jaw drops at your language. You cringe, glad your mother can’t stalk you while you’re dancing. “Er- sorry.”

“It’s fine, really.” The lights are dimming outside and your sympathy for the man only grows. Even your vision begins to fail once night falls. Would it kill them to get better lighting in this place?

“My point is, they get easier. Promise. The nerves will go away eventually, probably quicker than you think.” Namjoon laughs skeptically, his grip loosening in yours.

“Easier said than done.” A smirk creeps across your lips.

“See? You’re already comfortable with me! I’m proud.” He immediately starts blushing and tensing up again, but you’ve made your point and Namjoon is grateful. You knew you could be quite intimidating, that this whole event could be quite intimidating, so you’re always glad to help a fellow straggler out.

The dance ends with Namjoon accidentally knocking his head against yours as he bows deeply, profusely apologizing. You laugh it off and send him on his way, probably to recover from the embarrassment in private. You almost get your hopes up that your mother will let you go, but it doesn’t take long for you to be shoved into a new conversation.

“It’s just- I love her, you know?” The boy is staring at you earnestly, his chin propped in his hands and his shaggy, brown hair anything but styled properly. You’re not even sure why your mother settled for this guy. He certainly doesn’t seem like a rich bachelor looking for a wife.

You lean in, fully captured by his heartfelt story. It only took two minutes before the guy noticed your disinterest and gave up on flirting, suggesting the two of you chat casually over desserts instead. You accepted his offer in a heartbeat, feeling your mother glaring holes into your back as he guided you away, finding a corner table and a heaping tray of eclairs. Now, you were listening to his romantic tale, absolutely astounded at his experiences.

“Yeah, I think I do. But what are you supposed to do? She’s locked in an enchanted tower! With a witch!”

“Exactly!” Taehyung responds, throwing his hands into the air. “The only reason I’m here and not with her is because of my family. If I could just get away from them, I’d think up a way to rescue her, I’m sure of it.” You ponder his dilemma as you shove another eclair into your mouth, treasuring the sugary pastry while you still can. He’d already tried the obvious choice, bringing a rope, but as soon as he stepped inside the tower with his love, it disintegrated in his hands, spoiling the plan.

“Maybe you can trick the witch!” You suggest, words muffled by the dessert you’re chewing on as you blatantly talk with your mouth open. All manners have been abandoned as Taehyung is eating two eclairs at once, equally focused on the matter at hand. “Well, no, maybe trying to trick a magical scary lady is a bad idea.”

You think for a moment longer, taking a few more desserts, before your brain lights up.

“Wait, we’re both idiots!” you exclaim, slamming the table in epiphany. Taehyung leans forward, anticipating your new idea. “Just cut her hair and use it as a rope! Surely the enchantment isn’t that advanced.” Taehyung processes your idea before his lips grow into a wide, joyous grin that stretches into his cheeks adorably. If it weren’t for other circumstances, you’d actually consider courting this guy.

“That’s genius!” he shouts, jumping up from his seat. “What do I do now?” You rise with him, taking his hands into yours.

“You have to go to her. Now.” Taehyung’s face grows solemn with resolve as he takes a deep breath.

“I will! Thank you, really.”

“You can thank me by inviting me to the wedding!” The boy laughs and assures you that he will before he grabs one last eclair, dashing out of the castle and into the night. You can only hope that he’ll be successful in his quest, that he won’t die because the plan went horribly wrong or the witch is waiting for him. You send a silent prayer to whoever is listening, but a part of you just believes he’ll be alright.

Having nowhere else to go, you make your way back to where you last saw your mother, brushing against several shoulders as you weave through the crowd. But instead of your mother, Jin is who you see, pigging out on a plate full of food from the buffet. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Where’s mom?” you ask tentatively, Jin barely meeting your eyes before returning to his meal.

“Went to talk to someone important. I dunno.” You sigh. For being your older brother, he sure is useless.

Your second great idea of the night begins to grow in the back of your mind, daring to give you hope.

“Oh… Well, if you see her, tell her I’m speaking to another suitor. A very rich and very powerful one.” Jin nods, barely half-listening. Knowing your mother, if she was really talking to someone important, it’d take a while. Giving you plenty of time to do the one thing you really came for.

“Uh-huh.”

You dash off before Jin can think twice, leaving him with his second love, only topped by himself, of course.

Your heart is throbbing in your chest, lungs aching from lack of oxygen as you weave through the ballroom and sprint down the halls, making your best guess as to where to find him. You can see the look on his face now, seeing you all dolled up and exhausted from socialization. He’ll make fun of you to no end, but you don’t mind. You have plenty to tease him about, too.

As you round a corner, you collide with a strong chest, only stopped from falling by a pair of strong arms.

But when you glance up, you’re met with a very different squire than the one you’re seeking, but still a dear friend.

“Y/N? I thought you weren’t coming!” You smile as you steady yourself.

“Are you kidding? I’m always at these things, Hoseok.” You step back, peeking around his shoulder, but you’re only met with an empty hall.

“You’re telling me,” he laughs, a friendly hand still lingering on your shoulder. “What took you so long?” You shrug, still catching your breath.

“Suitors, dancing, my mother… You know how it is.” Hoseok nods in understanding, his kind eyes and warm brown hair a welcome sight after a night full of socializing with strangers. “Why aren’t you in uniform?”

“Ahh, it’s our last night off. Like a reward before we get knighted and swear our lives to the crown and all that.”

“Wait, really? You’re getting knighted?! That’s amazing, Hoseok!” The man blushes, shrugging sheepishly. His stupid humility reminds you of Sowon. The two of them would be great friends, you muse, being all shy about their accomplishments together. But never in a million years would you allow them in the same room, not with Hoseok’s reputation.

“Well, we both are.” His eyes light up at something behind you. His hand spins you around, facing you towards the rest of the ballroom. “But your boyfriend can’t even enjoy his one night to have fun. He’s over there brooding in the corner like he’s on duty or something. Doesn’t matter how many times I or Jinyoung tell him to relax, he won’t listen.”

“Sounds about right,” you muse.

“Go talk to him, will you? Make him lighten up.”

Hoseok winks at you before strolling off, making you roll your eyes. But your gaze quickly returns to the idiot you’ve come to love, looking more like a criminal than a knight as he watches the crowd with narrowed eyes. He looks dashing in his ball attire, his dark hair slicked back and leaving his forehead exposed, only a few strands falling out of place. He’s dressed in a simple suit, a white dress shirt with navy blue slacks and overcoat, but he makes the entire look seem classy and elegant.

Despite his piercing gaze, he doesn’t notice you until you’ve snuck up behind him, trailing your fingers up his arm, leaving goosebumps in your wake. His eyes barely flicker to your before quickly returning and focusing on the dance floor, as if you were never there.

“Hey, squire.” No one notices you fiddling with the collar of his coat, not as the lights are growing dimmer and dimmer. He doesn’t respond, face still fixed ahead.

“Oh, come on, you’re off duty. Hoseok told me. At least talk to me.” Still, nothing. He’s as still as a statue.

“Please? I’m sorry I took so long, I got caught up with my mom, you know how she can be.” It’s like you’re talking to air, having a conversation with yourself. His brows furrow at the mention of your mother though, sharing as much hatred for the woman as you do.

“Yoongi.” He sighs, finally facing you. But upon seeing your face, really taking it in, his expression immediately fills with concern, rather than that smile you really want to see.

“Are you okay? Your eyes are swollen.” Damn it. Rely on Min Yoongi to always see right through your facade, to never save you your pride. “Was it your mother?”

“No,” you lie. “I’m fine, really. I just missed you.” Eager to change the subject, you smirk, eyeing the top of his shirt, left unbuttoned. “Really, Min? How unprofessional…” You reach up and fix it, leaning close enough to feel his breath on your face. You meet his eyes cheekily, seeing the conflict brewing in his mind.

“Where have you been? How’s Sowon?”

“Around. Turning down suitors. And as far as I know, she’s good. Hopefully enjoying herself.” Your hands linger at his collar, fiddling with it as you grow closer and closer.

“You sure they aren’t turning you down? You’re pretty damn annoying.” You feign a gasp.

“Wowww, do all those years of me helping you train mean nothing to you? All those late nights for you to insult me like this?” Yoongi takes your hand before you can slip away in your faux-anger, intertwining your fingers.

“I think you’re glossing over all the years that I protected you from the snakes in the palace garden.”

“Oh please,” you scoff. “That was all just a ploy to get me to hold your hand.” He smirks, fully turning away from the party and towards you.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Only because I wanted it to. Now, are you going to keep holding my hand like we’re fourteen or kiss me?” He laughs, eyes flashing to your lips.

It only takes a moment before the two of you have disappeared from the main room and you’re pressed up against a wall, kissing him messily in a quiet hall, far from the other guests.

You’re not stupid enough to go any further, as much as you’d like to, but for now you’re satisfied just to feel his lips on yours, just to be in his presence for a while. Your fingers are running through his hair, ruining his hairstyle as his arms are wrapped around your waist, tugging you close as he kisses you senseless, as if to make up for the lost time.

No matter how many times you see him, no matter how many times you corner him in a dark room with time to kill, your heart always thumps in your chest and your stomach always flutters when he’s nearby. It’s always like the first time you talked to him, nerves racing up and down your spine like the idiot teenager you were back then.

He’s always been the first one you want to talk to in the morning, the last person you want to see before your head hits the pillow. And, of course, he’s the one you always wished was treating you to dates or romantic strolls instead of whatever suitor your mother chose next.

While your mind is racing, hands beginning to wander, Yoongi pulls away all too soon, leaving you reeling.

“Sorry,” he mutters, growing all embarrassed when the tips of his ears turn pink. “I was getting carried away.” You laugh, poking at his blushing cheeks. He jerks away, summoning a scowl that he can’t maintain as you only laugh at him further.

“That’s not very knightly of you,” you tease, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still alone, a habit you’ve developed over years of seeing him in secret. Yoongi shakes his head, glaring at your proud grin.

“I don’t think sneaking off with a squire looks very good for you, either, dumbass.”

“I think you mean running off with a soon-to-be knight! Hoseok told me!” Yoongi scoffs.

“Of course he did. Asshole.” You quirk your brow.

“Wait, are you not happy you’re being knighted?” You affectionately comb your fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix the damage you’ve caused as he shakes his head furiously.

“No, no, that’s not it. I wanted to tell you myself, that’s all. There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, now.”

“What, that you’re finally using your knightly privileges to kill me once and for all?”

“What? No! At least, not yet.”

“You’re gonna get me my own sword?”

“No. I’m-”

“You’re going on a quest to save a girl in a tower?” Yoongi’s expression is incredulous. It takes everything in you to suppress your giggles as you relish in his confusion.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Trust me, it happens.”

“Oh- Okay? Well, what I’m trying to say is-”

“You’re leaving me for Hoseok? It’s okay, I understand. He’s so hot, I would too-” Exasperated, Yoongi claps a hand over your mouth, still keeping you pinned in the corner despite your struggling.

“God, no! I’m trying to tell you I’m gonna marry you, okay?” You freeze, eyes going wide. His hand lowers, letting your jaw drop. “I mean, assuming you want to.”

“Yoongi…” You sigh, a sadness you’re often able to ignore filling your chest and throat. “We talked about this, you know my mother won’t-”

“I don’t care what your mother thinks.” He sighs, face unsure instead of smug or annoyed, as usual. The sight makes your chest constrict. “I’m serious. I’m in love with you and I have been for years, you know that. I’ve been saving up and I can take care of you, at least for a while. But after I’m knighted, I’ll have a steadier income. And then in a few years, maybe we can open that tailor shop with Sowon you’re always talking about. You can do the numbers and Sowon can sew and I know I’m not great with either of those things but I’m sure I can figure out something to help with. I’ll make it work, I promise. You just have to trust me a little.”

For a moment, you allow yourself to hope. To stare into his pleading eyes, to imagine a future with him, a life filled with sarcastic remarks and flirtatious glances and a shop, a place to call your own with the people you love. Out of your mother’s reach, in Yoongi’s arms, happy and content.

But you’re not stupid.

No matter where you go, she’ll follow you. She’ll crush you and ruin you just like she’s done to everyone in her path, spreading rumors and menacing words until you’re despised and cast aside. You’d watched her do it to her own friends, to Sowon in her own house. Once she knows about Yoongi, she’ll do the same to him too. You can’t allow that to happen. You might be afraid of your mother, but you’re far more afraid of what she would do to him than what she would do to you.

“Yoongi, I love you, I really do, but I- I can’t. I won’t.” I won’t hurt you. You almost laugh. In order to spare him from a world of pain, you have to inflict pain yourself.

His face darkens, his expression flashing with hurt. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. His grip loosens on you, and the disappointed but unsurprised look on his face is too much to bear.

“Are you serious? Is this really what you want? To let her control you?” Yoongi bites his lip. You wish he’d get angry. That he’d yell and scream and insult you. Instead, his eyes grow glassy and sad, his brow furrowed with concern, making you feel all the worser. You wish you could kiss him until it was all gone, until nothing mattered anymore and you both felt alright again.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi.” You slip away, out of his arms. You’re out of the room and wiping tears from your eyes in a flash. You hurl yourself down the hall, muffling your choked sobs behind your hand. You’re stumbling like Namjoon on the dance floor, ignoring Yoongi calling your name and chasing after you. You know he’ll leave you alone once you make it back to the crowd, once it’s possible your mother could see.

Maybe it was better this way. If you just left each other alone, pretend it never happened. You were nothing but a leech, really. Taking and taking and taking from him and never giving. You didn’t deserve him, not his talks, not his kisses, not his anything. You deserve to grow old miserable with someone you don’t love. You aren’t brave enough to try for something more, not like Yoongi is.

“Y/N?” You nearly run into the girl, her face looking as panicked as you feel. You quickly dab at your eyes, summoning a casual smile. “Are you okay?”

“Hey, Sowon! Having fun?” Not unlike Yoongi, she’s clearly conflicted on whether or not to press you further. You’re grateful when she doesn’t.

“I- um- yeah. I’m leaving, actually.”

“What?” You aren’t carrying a watch, but you know it’s not anywhere near midnight yet, not by a long shot. “Why?” It’s then that you notice that her cheeks are slightly tear-stained too, red from embarrassment. Her hands are shaky, barely holding onto yours. “Did something happen?”

“I really can’t talk about it, now,” she says, voice breaking. “I just have to go.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk to you at home, alright?” She nods, her weak smile thankful.

“Alright, see you-”

“Y/N.” Your heart leaps into your throat when you see your mother standing not too far from you and Sowon, her glare murderous and cold. She pretends not to see her stepdaughter, but you know a majority of her fury comes from her presence at the ball tonight.

You shoot your stepsister a look and she’s gone before you can blink, tearing off into the crowd. Wait, is she missing a shoe? Those took up half of your budget!

“I was just looking for you!” You say it awkwardly, the worst acting performance of your life. You’ve done better than this as an eight-year-old. You try to force yourself to forget everything that’s just transpired. All that matters is minimizing your mother’s wrath, if possible.

You aren’t entirely sure why, but she hasn’t dragged you away to a private space to scream at you for your insolence. Instead, she’s forcing a strained smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Your stomach starts to sink. Somehow this feels worse.

“We’ve been summoned. By the royal family.” Your stomach accelerates from a sink to a drop, leaving you nauseous and an anxious feeling itching up your arms and back, choking your throat.

“What?”

“I don’t know why I continue to do these things for you,” she says, wringing her hands, as if to keep them from lashing out. “But it seems I’ve secured you a betrothal. To the Crown Prince.”

“What.”

It had to be a lie. How had your mother, the least personable human you knew, managed to do this? And she hadn’t even consulted you? Not that you’re surprised about it, but the stress and pressure and cruelty of it all is getting to you. What would this even mean? Is it all just a lie to get you alone so she can really yell?

But the look in her eye and Jin’s story support her claim. Your emotions hit you like a train again as the realization sets in.

“Mom.” Your lip trembles, unable to force itself into a smile for her, not anymore. “I don’t want that. Please.” You silently follow up your plea with desperate eyes, frantically attempting to keep tears from further spilling down your face. But her expression contorts, leaving no room for fake smiles and laughter. Her brows are pressed as far down as they can go, her mouth permanently twisted into a scowl. Her hand raises and you flinch prematurely, casting your face downwards.

“You ungrateful little-”

“I’ll be glad to escort you to the royal family.” Your eyes shoot upwards at the sound of the familiar voice. But Yoongi doesn’t even glance your way, looking at your mother with his stoic, knightly expression he’s worked to perfect over the years.  Like he didn’t propose to you minutes prior.

“Who are you?” your mother sneers, giving him a skeptical look.

“A knight,” he states plainly. “This is my night off, but considering your daughter’s recent change in status, it’s only practical she receive a change in security as well.” Your mother ponders this before smirking, the pride of your apparent future marriage already fueling her own ego. She nods, forcefully taking your elbow. Yoongi’s eyes barely flicker with fury when he glances at your mother’s hand, knuckles white from her grip, but he’s able to calmly mask it before your mother notices.

“Well, then, by all means, get on with it.” She gestures ahead as if she’s the one paying him to be here and not the palace. He pretends not to notice her blatantly rude behavior, steadily striding back down the hall, leading you to your own doom.

Ironic, really. You’ve just had someone propose to you and now you’re being lead off to another engagement by the very same man. My god, you’re about to be engaged. To the fucking crown prince. What’s his name? Isn’t he younger than you? You can’t even remember, your mind is going too fast, your heart pounding too loudly.

Your mother is hissing instructions into your ear, berating you for your behavior before you’ve even entered the room, but you don’t hear a single word.

You’ve accepted defeat before the battle has begun as you bite your lip to keep it from trembling.

You hate the way Yoongi doesn’t fight it, how you can only watch his backside as you walk towards an engagement you never wanted, too afraid to say no. You want to run away, to grab Yoongi’s hand and never look back. But that leaves too much to chance. You don’t know where you would go, if you could take Sowon with you.

Crippled by fear and indecisiveness, you stay silent.

“Well, I think that settles everything.” You jolt in your seat, yanked from your daze when you’re being pinched harshly.

Jin’s been pouting in his seat the whole time, frustrated he even had to be here in the first place. He should be pleased, he’s about to have all the food and women he wants, and more.

“We’re incredibly thankful at being given this opportunity,” your mother insists. You muster a smile, unable to meet the eyes of the supposed prince, who’s pouting like a petulant child. His features match his seemingly immature personality, boyish and cute. His eyes are large and doe-like, nearly bulging out of his head with each word spoken, each negotiation settled. You’re glad you’re not the only one who feels poorly about this, though the two of you express that emotion very differently.

Yoongi hasn’t looked at you once the entire time. Instead, he’s standing at the door without a sound, just like the knight he’s been trained to be.  

“Well, we’re grateful to have negotiated this opportunity as well, Lady Kim. I’m sure your daughter will make a lovely queen alongside Jungkook.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You hadn’t even opened that can of worms yet. How were you supposed to be a queen? You could barely play checkers without panicking, how would you be able to manage the stress of ruling a country?!

“I’m sure she will, too. Right, Y/N?” All eyes pin on you and your blood runs cold, goosebumps running up your arms and legs.

“I- I’ll do my best,” you murmur, your voice choked and quiet. The king leans forward, brow furrowing.

“What did you say?” You open your mouth to repeat yourself, but your mother beats you to it.

“She said she agrees. She’s really quite the talented socializer, always making friends and connections. She’ll be a beloved queen, I’m confident in it.” The queen smiles softly in approval, gazing at you affectionately. She must think your nerves stem from being in the same room as the prince, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. You’d give anything to be able to sprint away, never looking back.

“I’m sorry, but when did I say I agreed to this?” Jungkook shouts the question, making everyone else in the room jump. Your gaze lowers to the table again as you try to pray yourself out of existence. The queen places her hand over her son’s, sighing disappointedly.

“Jungkook, not right-”

“No, Mom! You tell me to get married and I say fine, as long as I can do it on my own terms. You tell me to find a girl I liked at this ball, who I think I could care for and would make a good ruler, and I did. I found someone and you won’t even hear me out!”

“Enough!” the king roars, slamming a fist on the table. “Your ‘girl’ ran off and all you have to prove her existence is a glass shoe. A glass shoe, Jungkook. That’s not evidence of a queen candidate, it’s footwear!”

“I told you, your stupid guards scared her off! She started panicking and mumbling things about a stepmother and needing to go and your guards kept me from following her! And now this is all I have to show for it.” A loud gasp leaves your mouth and you look up to see Jungkook holding a small heeled slipped, made of Venetian glass. Sowon’s slipper.

“What?” Jungkook leans forward, eyes boring into yours. “Do you recognize this? Do you know her?” Your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water, unable to form words. But your mother has already pieced together this puzzle, what with your startled reaction and Jungkook’s retelling of the story.

“Oh, surely not,” your mother insists. Her hand squeezes yours, nearly crushing it, making you yelp. You barely see Yoongi’s nostrils flare, but he doesn’t move. “She just loves Venetian glass, don’t you, dear?” The question falls on deaf ears when Jungkook starts ranting to his father again.

“I’m not giving up on this,” he states matter-of-factly, almost initiating a staredown with the king himself.

“And I’m not going to be controlled by a teenager who doesn’t understand priorities,” he snaps back, eyes blazing. The queen sighs, massaging her temples, as if this isn’t the first time such an argument has occurred.

“I have an idea!” your mother exclaims, clapping her hands together and momentarily drawing the attention of the rest of the table. Jin is still totally checked out, staring off into space. You wonder if he’s sleeping with his eyes open.

“His Highness should try to find this mystery girl! Put out an ad, let girls try on the shoe, do house visits if you wish.” You gawk at your mother, wondering what the hell she’s playing at. “We all deserve a chance at love, no?”

“Yes,” the king responds. “But-”

“But if in, say, two weeks, this girl doesn’t show or she doesn’t turn out to be a good candidate…” You gasp when she interrupts the king, a blatant show of disrespect, but he says nothing, only listening to your mother’s idea patiently. “Then we move forward with the engagement with my daughter. That way we all get a fair chance at what we want.”

“I… suppose that would fine.” Jungkook looks at your mother skeptically, but he really has no reason to say no. She’s just offered him his chance with his dream girl. Why would he refuse?

To everyone else, your mother seems charitable, maybe even absurdly so. But to those who are privy to full the context of the situation (you, Yoongi, and Jin), she’s anything but. In one fell swoop, she’s managed to seize full control of the situation while making a good impression on the royal family. As long as she has you and Sowon pinned beneath her thumb, she’s won easily.

“Yes, I suppose that is fair,” the king says. “Two weeks, Jungkook. That’s it.” His son nods solemnly, determination filling his eyes.

“Two weeks.”

You say nothing to Yoongi as you leave. You know he understands just as well as you do. You’re getting engaged. Just not to him.

“Wait!” You spin around only to be met with your maybe-future-fiancé, gripping your shoulders with a desperate look in his eye. You catch another man staring at you from the door, but you pointedly don’t meet his gaze.

“Yes, Your Highness?” The prince groans.

“Oh, please, don’t call me that.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Your cheeks heat as your mother glares at you from the side, just out of Jungkook’s view.

“Are you sure you don’t know this girl? She’s about this tall-” He raises a hand to just below his shoulder. “-and she’s blonde and really pretty and she was wearing a pink dress.” You’re about to respond, but he continues his description. “And she’s honestly the nicest, most sweet person I’ve ever met. I don’t think she could hurt a fly if she tried.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair nervously. “I know I’ve gotta sound insane right now, but I’m not claiming to be in love with her or anything like that. I just have to see her again. And by the way she was talking, I’m really worried. She might need help. Even if she hates me and that’s why she ran off, I just have to make sure she’s okay and safe.”

You’re astounded at his passionate speech. You’d misjudged him completely. He might be immature or naive, but never had someone seemed so genuine. Never had someone seen Sowon the way you saw her: the silly, sweet girl with a heart of gold.

You’re impressed.

But your pleasant surprise is spoiled when you catch your mother’s gaze, and a realization hits you.

You’d be stupid to trust this Jungkook idiot. No matter how earnest he was, there was no guarantee your mother wouldn’t contradict you, wouldn’t call you insane and have you institutionalized. She could go home tonight and have Sowon shipped off and killed before Jungkook had a chance, and it’d be all your fault. No one was going to stop this. Not Jin. Not Jungkook. Not Yoongi. Not you.

No matter where you go, no matter what you do, your mother will always be there, always be pulling the strings. To try to resist it would only make things worse. For you and Sowon.

You won’t be selfish. You won’t be brave. You’ll take whatever your mother makes you do, as long as she doesn’t hurt Sowon.

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s, full of unspoken apologies.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you lie. “I don’t know her.”

You turn away before you have to see the disappointment in either of their faces.

Two weeks later, you’re allowed to leave your room again. You’re dizzy and nauseous with the guilt and hunger and exhaustion, but your decision remains firm. It’s not like you could really undo it anyway.

You lug your body downstairs, forcing yourself to smile, to look pleasant. Jungkook is sitting in the foyer, a poorly masked sad expression on his face. You’re sad, too.

“-really am disappointed you weren’t able to find your girl. I suppose some mysteries just can’t be solved, can they?”

“Mmm.”

You gulp. You worry about said girl two floors up, who you haven’t seen in a fortnight, probably feeling upset and betrayed.

But you’d been able to cut a deal. Your silence and compliance in exchange for Sowon’s freedom and safety. Maybe it was reckless and stupid to prioritize your stepsister’s life over yours, but after years living in a household that did the opposite, you figured it was the least you could do.

Or maybe you were the selfish one. Maybe all of this was an elaborate ploy to avoid standing up to your mother, your biggest fear.

Either way, it felt much too late to turn back now.

Of course, to make things more painful, Yoongi had to be here too. Watching as you betrayed yourself and him, maybe even Sowon too. You hated how he attempted to hide his obvious disapproval and hurt, to hide his true feelings for your sake.

He stills looks just as good in uniform as he did in his ball clothes. He’s still dressed in navy blue, but the royal crest is embroidered across his chest and a sword hangs at his waist, his hair slicked away from his face again. He looks dashing. Knightly. Regal.

But you’ve given up the privilege of being able to look at him that way. He’s not yours anymore.

An exhausted look duke stands next to the equally tired Jungkook, blabbering on about logistics and future plans. They’re here to take you away permanently, to begin residing at the palace and training for queen hood and preparing for the marriage. Your mother and Jin will follow soon after, leaving their servants here to be released from work, including Sowon, for which you’re grateful.

“Well, I’ll miss her dearly while you’re keeping her,” your mother croons, her voice so sickeningly sweet you think you might vomit again.

“I’ll make sure she’s treated well,” Jungkook assures her. Another bout of guilt claws up your throat. He’s much too innocent, much too good for you.

“I would hope so.” Your mother wraps an arm around you and squeezes. “She deserves the best, she really does.” At some point, Yoongi’s dropped his stoic look, putting up his hands pleadingly in desperation.

You deserve better, he mouths.

“I don’t.”

“What?” Jungkook’s brow is quirked, a very puzzled expression on his face.

“She’s just humble!” your mother nearly shouts, voice strained and threatening to crack.

Are you going to let her decide for you?

It is my decision.

I love you.

You look away from Yoongi before you cry again. You’ve done enough of that over the past two weeks.

“Well, I suppose it’s time we get going,” the duke pipes up, gesturing to the rest of the guards, who begin trudging to their feet and filing their way out of the room. Jungkook takes your arm awkwardly leading you away from your childhood home. You bite your lip and squeeze your fist.

Is this really want Sowon would want? You don’t know. She ran from Jungkook, after all. If she really thought he cared about her, if she really thought safety or love was possible, wouldn’t she have stayed? Jungkook seemed genuine, seemed caring. So why?

An awful thought occurs to you. An awful, terrible, irreversible thought.

There was only one reason you could think of as to why your stepsister had run, had sacrificed her chance with her prince charming.

She didn’t want to leave you behind.

Your mother would have been furious, would have dragged both you and Jin out of the country if that’s what it took to quell her own embarrassment. She’d threatened it before, and she wasn’t one to do so without the intention of following through. You’d never see Sowon or Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, anyway.

Your stepsister risked everything for you, sacrificed her own happiness for your own, and here you were about to leave her behind in the same way she refused to do to you.

You’re giving up everything you cared about, because, what? You’re scared?

Yoongi loves you. You love him. You’ve longed to be with him, to really be with him, for years. And he gave you a solution. He put in the effort to make it work, put it all on the line to be with you.

And you told him no. Because you were scared.

You don’t want to be scared anymore.

“Stop!” you shout, pushing Jungkook away, his expression riddled with surprise. “Just, stop. I have your mystery girl. Come on.”

“You what?” You sigh loudly, leaving him in the dust as you march back up to your mother, who’s gaping at you in horror and disgust from the large doorway.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” your mother gasps. You ignore the way your stomach clenches and that familiar feeling of wanting to crawl under the covers and never come back out.

“Get Sowon or I will.” You state it loudly, for everyone in the vicinity to hear. She gasps, her face turning bright red with anger. You see the retort forming on her lips, the scream threatening to tear from her lungs, but your spine remains straight and tall.

You resist smirking as a familiar presence eases its way behind you, a gentle hand landing on your shoulder.

“Move aside,” Yoongi bellows. His voice clearly sends shivers down your mother’s spine as she jumps to the side out of fear, but you’re suppressing a giggle when you know that he’s just a big softie underneath.

As you make the final trek upstairs to unlock the door and bring Sowon to her awaiting prince and freedom, Yoongi’s hand never leaves yours, giving you reassuring squeezes every time you hesitate. He’s never been one for passionate declarations or romantic gestures, but his unending honesty and small actions are enough for you to feel loved.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs into your ear as you tug Sowon out the door for the last time. You don’t give your mother the dignity of a last glance. You can guess how she appears, face contorted in anger and embarrassment and shock as she realizes she’s been betrayed, that she won’t be able to manipulate her way out of this one, though you wouldn’t put it past her to try.

You do, however, give a single nod to Jin as you go, a silent message of forgiveness. He returns a similar look to you. You know the two of you can never be close again, but you hope one day you can see him again. You both are just doing what you must to survive.

After being peppered with questions and giving thousands of explanations to the guards and Jungkook, you’re finally allowed a moment to breathe. Sowon and her prince are staring at each other sheepishly, both suddenly shy and unsure. He awkwardly shakes her hand just as she goes to curtsy, making the both of them burst into stiff giggles and smiles. You shake your head at their antics, but a part of you hopes they make it past this phase and work out.

Just as you’re about to suggest that the group get moving lest your mother takes all of your heads, you’re being yanked away into the shadows behind Jungkook’s carriage and being met with a knowing smile.

You smirk, looping your arms around his neck.

“Hey, squire.” You lean up to press a kiss against his lips but he stops you with the pad of his finger.

“Knight. I’m a knight now.” He’s grinning cheekily, smile so wide you can see his gums. You shake your head and pat the top of his hair, which luckily isn’t covered with a silly metal helmet.

“You’ll always be a squire to me,” you tease, combing your fingers through his hair. Yoongi feigns a glare before wasting no time in stealing a kiss (or three) from you, the two of you pressed up against the carriage, tucked away from sight just like in the good old days.

“And this- Oh!”

You tear away from Yoongi, your cheeks heating as you see a pale Jungkook staring at the two of you in horror as Sowon stands slightly behind him, sending you a look that says, ‘You really couldn’t wait any longer?’

Your eyes are burning holes into the ground as you silently wonder whether kissing a royal guard while kind of engaged to the prince is treason.

“I am so sorry,” you manage, trying to formulate an excuse, but none comes. Yoongi has returned to his knight like stance, acting like a statue and not a lovestruck idiot.

“It’s, uh… It’s fine.” You glance up in surprise as Sowon slips her hand into Jungkook’s, pulling him in the opposite direction.

“Sorry for interrupting!” she calls over her shoulder as she leads her prince away, not noticing his sheepish grin as he stares at their interlocked fingers. “We’re leaving soon so don’t waste too much time…”

As soon as their forms disappear from view, you’re laughing quietly to yourself. After years of sneaking off with Yoongi, it’s still Sowon covering for you. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to pay her back for everything she’s done for you, big and small, but today is certainly a start.

“So…” Yoongi begins, his hands finding yours. “Did you think any more on what I asked you the other night?” You laugh, resisting the urge to tug him in for another kiss.

“Well, seeing as my chances with the prince have been completely ruined…” Yoongi groans, fingers hovering above your stomach threateningly. You jolt backwards, only to be met with the side of the carriage. “I was joking! Just teasing! Please don’t tickle me.”

The man you’re hopelessly in love with only rolls his eyes, fumbling with the pocket of his pants.

“And I’m trying to be romantic. One of these days I’ll get my revenge for the amount of headaches you give me.” He produces a small box from his pocket, but before he can ask any questions or see the happy tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, you pull him close, pressing your nose into his shoulder. He laughs, quickly reciprocating the embrace.

“Does that mean yes?” he asks. “Because I don’t have the ring yet, the box was a symbolic thing. Unless you like my grandmother’s ring, in which case-” You scoff. A thousand teasing remarks come to your head, but you decide to cut to the chase, not leave him hanging.

“Yes!” You can’t wipe the stupid grins of either of your faces as you pull apart slightly, staring at each other in pure joy.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because then this would be pretty embarrassing. For you.”

You’re still giggling as the two of you round the carriage hand-in-hand, garnering a few odd glances from the other knights and guards. But instead of quickly jerking your hand away, creating a normal distance as usual, you proudly march up to Yoongi’s horse, let him help you up and lean against his chest as you sit in front of him. Sowon and Jungkook are long in their own world, chatting away about god-knows-what.

As the caravan of carriages and horses rides away, you don’t look back once. You don’t worry about making it back to your mother in time or planning an elaborate explanation to give her to quell her suspicions. Instead, you fully relish in Yoongi’s warmth, teasing him relentlessly and talking about nothing and everything all at once.

You can’t guarantee that it’ll all be easy, that the royal family won’t be royally pissed at you for keeping such a big secret for two weeks. But as the hope of a long life spent with Yoongi and Sowon becomes closer to the truth than ever before, you think you’ll turn out just fine.

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s notes: It's 2 am and I've been furiously typing this away while chugging some coffee, so please excuse the errors if you find some. It's already February 14 where I am, so Happy Valentine's Day, have some filth.

VII

desire, I'm hungry / I hope you feed me / how do you want me, how do you want me?

Yamane had all the opportunities to examine her nebulous, twisted feelings for the tattooed militant; she just never took them. She avoided confronting the feeling. Now, a Heart game of all things is forcing her to face the ugly truth.

Or perhaps, she should have expected it from a Heart game. She experienced firsthand how terrible they can be, after all.

Yamane never really told anyone about what she felt about Last Boss. There are rumors circulating in the Beach about trysts between them because of her little visits after games, but neither gave away any substantial hints. The only way for anyone to know about Yamane’s feelings was if they heard her moan his name in one of the nights that she spent pleasuring herself.

It’s also suspicious that their fellow players are either couples or people who have feelings for each other. Whoever designed these games knew the players intimately.

They’re all being watched.

And now, these people wanted to watch how they would act in a scenario that involves possibly hurting the person they desired the most.

Yamane locks eyes with Last Boss, and she can't read him at all. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t fight against the restraints. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for her to make a move, or just waiting for her time to run out.

“Two minutes remaining.”

At the warning, Yamane stops pondering about the nature of the game, and starts panicking.

She had considered taking the gun and shooting him somewhere that won’t kill him, but she doesn’t really know how to use firearms properly. Shooting him in the arm would run the risk of shooting him in the chest, and shooting him in the leg would doom him in future games. Either way, he might end up dead.

Yamane said she would kill to survive, but can she kill him? She’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t get attached. This newfound hesitation is precisely the reason why she used to play the games alone.

“Of all people to get attached to,” she thinks. “Why you?”

Desperate, Yamane pulls at her hair and screams, despair overtaking her.

Finally, Last Boss says something.

“Yamaneko.”

Yamane turns to him, her eyes wet with tears and her eyeliner running down her cheeks.

“Whether it’s you or me, when all is done, we’ll simply return to the soil. I’m thankful for this world. You should be too.”

Wiping the tears that blurs her vision, Yamane regards him for a moment. Last Boss continues to surprise her with every interaction; she never expected such wisdom from him. Perhaps this outlook is what made him a powerful player in the Beach.

Last Boss will live his life in the borderland to the fullest, literally carving his path away, until his time runs out.

But Yamane wants to be a part of that, and it’s too early for it to end now.

“No. Wait. I can figure this out,” she sniffles, fingers tangling through her hair.

He doesn’t say anything else to her.

Yamane strains herself to think. In her last Heart game, the rules were written in such a way to make players believe that they will have to spill blood by killing someone, when medical implements around them would suggest that players only needed to spill a portion of their blood. She looks to the X-cross for clues, but fails to find any hints.

Her eyes flick to the gun in front of her, and she grabs it. There must be something about the gun she can figure out. She runs her thumb against the arrow engraved on the side, and her mind wanders back to the time she and Mai went to an archery range. The instructor scolded her for pulling the bow when it’s not loaded.

At the memory, everything in Yamane’s head clicks into place.

Yamane aims the gun upwards, and unloads all of the bullets to the ceiling.

The sobbing girls look at her in surprise, then Yamane points the gun to Last Boss. Unsure if her plan would work, Yamane spills everything that’s in her heart.

“Last Boss, I’ve only known you for a little while, and truth be told, I was terrified of you when you and Niragi came to my apartment. I expected the two of you to rape or kill me on that day, but you two brought me someplace where I can thrive. There is nothing expected of me here except for playing the games. I am free to be who I am without repercussions from society.”

The tattooed militant’s eyes flick towards her, interest piqued.

“One minute remaining.”

“There’s nothing waiting for me in the real world. My family and friends all turned their backs on me. As fucked up as it sounds, when I’m in the Beach, when I’m with you, I feel like I finally belong somewhere. In this new world, I felt accepted for the first time. My new life has only just begun. So please, I don’t want this to be the end for either of us. I don’t want my time with you to run out yet.”

Now, Last Boss is giving her his full attention.

“Thirty seconds remaining.”

“I’ve come to appreciate you. I- I prefer your presence to Niragi’s too. When you entertained my request to instruct me on how to kill someone painlessly, you didn’t think twice before sharing what you knew. You were tracing the vulnerable points of my body, and your touch felt too damn good. When you came behind me to guide me, I wanted more of your touch. You’re in my head when I- I...”

Yamane begins to stutter.

“Ten seconds remaining.”

She’s saying too much.

“What I want to say is I want you! So please, accept my feelings!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Yamane pulls the trigger, and waits for the end.

Just in case a laser comes firing at her skull if the plan didn’t work, at least she’d die with no unfinished business.

But the laser never came.

“Game Clear. Congratulations!”

The restraints on the X-cross release, and Rina runs over to catch Hiro’s body before it hits the ground, sobbing and hiccupping the entire time. Last Boss lands on his feet, and he rubs his wrists as he looks at Yamane’s disbelieving expression. The girl that Daisuke was kissing in the backseat barges towards Yamane and slapped her hard enough for her to tumble backwards.

“Why?! Why couldn’t you have told Daisuke the solution? Now he’s dead!”

Yamane, still in shock, could only laugh at the girl’s face, still surprised that her plan worked. The girl raises her hand again, but long, thin fingers grab her arm. Last Boss tears her away from his fellow militant, and drives his sword through her heart.

Rina screams, still holding on to Hiro’s dead body, and the girl’s body slumps to the ground.

Panting, Yamane looks to Last Boss, who sheaths his sword, then to the girl he just killed. She felt nothing. Legs shaking, she tries to walk, but her knees fail her. To her surprise, Last Boss grabs her, not letting her fall.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yamane whispers, and they turn around to leave.

But before they can walk out of the room, Rina calls out to them.

“Wait,” she cries, voice trembling. “How- how did you figure out the solution?”

Yamane looks at her, heart heavy as she watches her cradle the dead boy, then looks away. “I figured that the game is made specially for people who either have sexual or romantic tension, or are already together. Whoever came up with this game wanted to see the dilemma of whether one would shoot the other to survive, or sacrifice themselves for the person they desired. The rules didn’t say anything about firing the gun while it’s loaded, though. Heart games tend to have loopholes you can abuse, if you think hard enough,” she explains, unable to look at the grieving girl as she did.

Rina sniffles. “All this time, I could’ve avoided killing Hiro? Oh, God, what have I done? I killed him...”

“Heart games have a way of doing that to you, kid. I was lucky enough to play with someone who knew how to handle them a while back. I’m sorry.”

When Rina didn’t respond and buried her face in Hiro’s neck to grieve, Yamane turned to Last Boss once again. “Let’s leave her to grieve. We need to get back.”

Her fellow militant nodded, and wordlessly followed her out. The circular white table with a Nine of Hearts card is waiting for them outside, and Yamane tucks it away in her jacket. She was more than ready to leave this place, but one hand pulls at her forearm, spinning her around, and another grabs her other arm, pinning her against the wall.

The tattooed militant is looking at her with intensity that punched the air out of her lungs, just like the first time she made eye contact with him during their first game together.

“All those things you said, are they true?” he asks her. He gives her a pleading look, one that is searching her for answers.

Yamane nods. “I wouldn’t be alive if I was lying.”

Pausing, her eyes flick towards Last Boss’ lips, and she gulps. “Please, just kiss me already,” she whispers, looking him in the eye.

Trembling lips that are too soft for a man so rough claimed hers, and Yamane’s eyes fluttered shut, sinking into the kiss.

Soon, the kiss became more desperate. Yamane slips her tongue in his mouth, and he lets out an involuntary groan, hips bucking into her as they shared the sloppy kiss. She rakes her fingers down his back, through the fabric of his hoodie, and it only spurred him on.

He tears away for air, and looks at her with wide, hungry eyes, like a tiger’s. Yamane only needed one look at his flushed face to know that this was his first one, and he wanted more. She didn’t dare to say anything that will embarrass him, though.

“Takatora,” he mumbles, still pressed against her.

“Huh?”

“My name is Takatora. Use it when it’s just the two of us,” he says to her, voice low. Yamane nods, and she kisses him again. Under her bikini top, her nipples are starting to pebble, and the fire in her loins is almost unbearable.

As they break the kiss, Yamane breathlessly sighs his name. “Takatora. Heh. How befitting. I always thought you looked like a tiger.”

His shaking hands clamp over the globes of her behind, and he grinds against her, his movements inexperienced but still arousing, nonetheless.

Then, Yamane hears movement from the room where the game took place.

“Let’s continue this at the Beach,” she whispers, and she grabs Takatora by the hand, leading him outside the hotel. He gets in the passenger’s seat, while Yamane drives. On the way back, his hand is on her pale thigh the entire time, squeezing and kneading like a damn cat. The wildcat’s heart is racing, driving like a madwoman so they can get to her bed sooner.

Upon arrival, they converge with their fellow militants at the entrance. The survivors of the games go to the Hatter’s meeting room and turn in their cards one by one. All this time, people were staring at the two of them. Yamane realizes too late that her lipstick has stained Last Boss’ mouth. Fortunately, no one said anything about it.

Until Niragi arrived, that is.

“What the hell is that on you?” he asks, coming in for a closer inspection. Yamane leans over to look at Niragi, her eyeliner running down her face and her lipstick smeared.

Niragi puts two and two together and gives them a wicked grin. “So you made a move after all,” he says to Last Boss, and slaps his back.

As Niragi strolls away, Yamane gives Last Boss a questioning look.

“I told him to stay away from you,” he droned, and Yamane’s eyebrows perk up in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to myself,” the taller militant replies, turning to look at her.

Before Yamane could say anything else, it was their turn to surrender their card. Yamane holds up the Nine of Hearts, and the collector’s eyes widen, while his buddy comes running to the Hatter.

Soon, Hatter joins the fray, and when he sees the value of the card Yamane and Last Boss had on them, he breaks out into a grin, taking it from Yamane’s little fingers and holding it up. “A Nine of Hearts!” he exclaims, walking around the room. As onlookers are whispering amongst themselves, Aguni steps closer to see what the excitement was about.

Hatter turns to the militia’s chief, and breaks out into a laugh. “Aguni, I didn’t expect your people to bring me a high-value Heart card, of all things.”

The Beach’s number one then turns to the two militants, a mad glint in his eye. “You two, thank you, thank you! I’ll move your ranks higher as my show of gratitude.”

One of the executives stepped closer, a woman with straight bangs and long hair. “My my, one of these days you two will have to tell me how you cleared such a game,” she comments, eyeing the card with a wide grin. It’s Mira Kano, resident number seven. Heart specialist.

“Yamane, isn’t it? First you cleared a Five of Hearts with your fellow militants without casualties to the Beach, and now you survived a Nine with him. I’m surprised that someone from the militant sect has the makings of a Heart specialist. I won’t forget this,” she croons.

The interaction left Yamane stunned. Her? A Heart specialist. No. If anything, she’s a Spade player. “Sunohara was there to calm everyone down in the Five, and I just got lucky with the Nine.”

As the excitement dies down, Niragi walks over to the pair once more. “So, what did you two do to win the game?”

“I had to confess to whom I found the most desirable and then shoot ‘em,” Yamane replies. Last Boss is looking at his fellow militant with a neutral expression, not bothering to wipe off the lipstick stain off of his face. “Turns out, shooting while the gun isn’t loaded is an option. Two players died because one of them chickened out, and the other shot her crush.”

“So, you’ve got a crush on Last Boss?” Niragi is doing everything he could to make Yamane uncomfortable, and she knows it.

“Actually, yes, I fucking do,” Yamane replies, looking at Niragi with confidence. “I asked him to kiss me after the game,” she hisses. “Oh, and I thought of him while you fucked me,” she adds partially to bruise his inflated ego, and partially because it’s true. “Do you have a problem with that?”

At Yamane’s admission, Niragi laughs at her face. “I fucking knew it. I was tired of you anyway. Have fun with him, Yamaneko.”

Blood boiling as he walked away, Yamane had considered going after him, but Takatora placed a hand on her good shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “That’s just how Niragi is. Let him go. Let’s continue where we left off,” he whispers.

With a cheeky smirk on her lips, Yamane shows her agreement by holding his hand and leading him out the door. They get in the elevator, and as soon as the doors are closed, their hands are all over each other’s bodies.

Small hand trailing down his torso, Yamane palms at his cock, earning her a nip on her lower lip, and he kisses her in a frenzy as she pumps him through his pants. “Suck my tits,” Yamane hisses. His lean arms held her close to him, shaky fingers clawing at her back and undoing the string of her bikini top. Takatora pushes her against the wall, hands grabbing her breasts, and he latches on one of her nipples, tongue eagerly lapping the hardened bud.

Yamane moans, and the elevator door opens, revealing two girls with surprised looks on their faces. The surprise turns into horror when they see the tattoos on Last Boss’ arms, and Yamane’s messy double buns, realizing who they just ran into.

“Are you two just going to stand there, or are you going to move?” Yamane questions them, not even bothering to ask Last Boss to stop. Not a single shred of shame is left in her body.

The girls jump out of the way, and Takatora wraps her legs around him, carrying her off.

“Which door?” he pants against her chest.

“Third one to the left!”

The door swings open, and Takatora kicks it shut as they enter the room. They crash into Yamane’s bed, both panting.

Spindly fingers pull at her bikini top, and Yamane sheds her jacket, tossing it aside. She moans his name as he fondled and sucked at her breasts again, back arching against the mattress. Takatora pauses to kiss her, and she takes this opportunity to flip him over, grinding against him. He looks at her with wide eyes, freezing at the loss of control.

“Relax,” she croons. “First time?”

He makes a small, reluctant nod. “Are you nervous?” she asks again.

He shakes his head. “I take you’re excited then?”

Takatora nods. Relieved, Yamane chuckles. “Then there’s no need for me to hold back.”

Takatora corrupted her by bringing her to the Beach. Now it’s her turn to corrupt him.

After watching the rise and fall of his chest, Yamane leans in and plants a gentle kiss on his eyelid as she pulls his tank top up, then presses her lips to the tattoos on his cheek. She presses another peck on one of his moles, trailing kisses down to his neck, and she hears him growl. Yamane smiles against his skin, lips tracing down his chest and abdomen. Deft fingers unbuckle his belt, and Yamane takes out his cock from its confines.

She swirls her tongue around the tip and Takatora groans, bracing himself against the mattress. After running her tongue from the base all the way to the tip, Yamane encloses her mouth around him, and his hands fly to her hair, both of them grasping her buns.

“Yamaneko,” he hisses, thrusting into her mouth.

Filthy noises fill the room as Yamane continues to suck him, enthusiastic with every bob of her head. The growls and groans he gave her spurred her on, relishing in the way she makes him feel. She ends it with a wet pop, and proceeds to stroke him with her hand while her tongue fondles his balls.

Takatora sounds feral now, grasping and pulling at Yamane’s hair, her buns coming undone. Yamane takes him in her mouth again, and she goes as far as her gag reflex would allow her. Niragi’s cock was thicker, but Takatora’s was longer, and she tried not to choke as she took him all in. She can feel that he’s close.

Hips bucking, it didn’t take long for him to come, and Yamane takes it all in, each spurt painting her tongue white. She sticks her tongue out to show him his load, and swallows every drop. Watching her, he gulps, Adam’s Apple bobbing.

The wildcat had expected the night to end there, content with making her partner come, but the tiger had other plans.

Takatora flips them over, now on top of her once more, and pulls away her skirt and panties. “I’ve read on the internet that women like it when men return the favor,” he mumbles, and dives right between her legs. Yamane gasps, palming at his head through his hoodie. “You’ve read good sources then,” she pants. His tongue made broad, sloppy strokes at her labia, and she squirms at his ministrations, legs in the air.

“There,” she moans, instructing him where to go. “Right at that nub- use a little less pressure- fuck, yes,” she hisses, throwing her head back at the feeling. “You’re a fast learner…”

Her tiger lover pauses, looking at her. “You too, Yamaneko.”

Then, he dives right back in, his saliva and her juices staining the sheets. Yamane encourages him in every step of the way, teaching him how to please her. As Takatora eats her out, he grinds his hips against the mattress, already hard again. Yamane notices it, and smiles.

“Tora,” she pants, and he smirks against her cunt upon hearing the affectionate nickname. “Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods enthusiastically, mouth still against her cunt.

“Fuck me then. Take me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The tiger kneels, and with no hesitation, he plunges his cock in her dripping cunt.

Yamane screams, pleasure shooting up her spine. Takatora took her brutally, sharp hip bones slamming against the soft flesh of her thighs, leaving red marks as he went. One hand bracing the bed frame, Yamane’s other one reaches down between her legs, finger rubbing her clit furiously as he fucks her. Meanwhile, his hands palmed and squeezed at her breasts, and his growls and groans echoed in the room.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her limit.

“Tora, I’m going to come,” she cries, and he responded by grasping her hips and fucking her like the animal he is. A sharp cry escaped Yamane’s lips as she came, her walls milking his cock, white spots blinding her. Her fingers leave her clit, thoroughly sated, but Takatora isn’t done yet.

Her lover doesn’t stop pumping into her, and it’s becoming unbearable.

“Tora, oh God, it’s too much” she pants, palming at his chest, but he pays her no heed. He flips her over, pushes her head against the mattress, and clamps a hand around her mouth as he penetrated her again. His tongue drags against Yamane’s neck, and his lips planted rough kisses on the fragile skin. She screams against his palm as his wild, uncoordinated thrusts force another orgasm out of her.

“Fuck, is this really his first time?” the wildcat thinks to herself as she comes down from another high. She didn’t expect the night to go this well. From the ache between her legs, it’s almost going too well.

Thankfully, Takatora finally reached his limit as Yamane’s walls milked him again. Spilling his seed deep inside his wildcat’s womb, he bites her shoulder as he comes, hard enough for it to bruise the morning after.

Sweating, panting, he collapses on top of her.

“Mine,” he growls, scooping her into his arms. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst, pining, mentions of sex

Words: 2236

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this part, I would say that I’m sorry for the angst but I’m not haha! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I’ll be writing a Remus fic in a while and it’ll be in the same universe as this one! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twelve

Christmas had always been an excellent time of year for Sirius, even when he had lived with his mum and brother in London because he’d always stay at Hogwarts. At Christmastime he was indescribably happy because he got to spend two whole interrupted weeks at his favourite place with his favourite people. It was also a good excuse to pull pranks – even Minnie didn’t get too angry at Christmas – and stuff himself full of food. There was an old saying that he lived by, ‘the calories don’t count at Christmas.’

However, this year he couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over, he and Y/N had had a tradition of bewitching snowballs to taunt Remus until he stopped being so sensible and joined in the fun. There was none of that this year, there was none of Y/N’s musical laughter or her teasing jokes and it caused his heart to constrict painfully.

Y/N hadn’t even spoken one word to him since the Yule Ball but every time she looked his way it seemed like she was close to bursting into tears. What hurt Sirius the most was the fact that she hadn’t even tried to speak to him, not since their argument. It was like his feelings were just all some game to her, but two could play at that game. She’d got everything she wanted and Sirius had lost her, all in a mere matter of days.

What made things worse was the fact that Regulus could now be seen strolling down the corridors with a huge grin on his face, he looked to be on top of the world. It made Sirius want to hex him.

It was the day before New Year’s Eve and he was out walking in the snow with his friends beneath the watery winter sunlight. The crisp winter afternoon was alive with the sounds of people screaming and laughing as they played in the powdery snow. Sirius glanced up with a sigh as he watched Y/N having fun with Remus and Peter. He felt a gloved hand on his arm and he turned to see that Lily was smiling at him sadly; her eyes almost had a mothering look to them.

“It will all work itself out, she misses you too even if she won’t say it, I know that she does. Regardless, you seem like you’re doing better.”

Sirius smiled at her, he appreciated her words but if Y/N really did miss him then he’d rather hear it from her, “thanks Lils, I’m doing alright. I just don’t want to cause any tensions between us, it’s pretty difficult being in the same friendship group,” he smiled and it started to snow lightly.

James slapped Sirius’ shoulder affectionately, shaking his head, “it’ll be fine mate, seriously. And hey, your bet with Y/N expires tomorrow at midnight. Soon you’ll be able to get your mind off her. I’m proud of you mate! I didn’t know that you had it in you.”

Sirius chuckled and kicked James in the shin, “hey, I’ve got as much self-control as the next person, don’t underestimate me.”

As they walked towards the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid’s hut, Sirius felt someone gently brush past his shoulder. It was a gentle brush but Sirius could tell that it was intentional, it was no accident. He turned his head to have a go at whoever had bumped into him – his temper was running short these days – but he remained silent when he saw who it was.

He felt his eyes sting and grow watery as he realised it was his little brother. Regulus had a genuine dimpled smile on his face as he strode across the sparkling damp lawn towards the frosted pumpkin patch where Y/N was talking to Remus and Peter. His blood boiled as Regulus dipped his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek. Sirius turned away so he didn’t catch the strained smile on Y/N’s face.

Sirius’ mind was reeling as he felt his heart harden, “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Where are you going?” James called after him; Sirius merely threw out a wave at his friends as he strode up the hill.

He searched everywhere before he found Freya – the girl he’d taken to the Yule Ball – in the paved Slytherin courtyard, “oi, Barnes!” he called over and when she glanced up at him she smirked and her friends simpered as he grew closer.

“What do you want?” she licked her bottom lip as she glanced up at him from beneath her long eyelashes.

He shot her a smirk as he slung an arm around her shoulder and he whispered into her ear, “meet me in the boathouse at 7am sharp tomorrow morning. Don’t be late and don’t wear any underwear, it will only get in the way.”

“To be honest, I didn’t think that you’d talk to me again after the Yule Ball but of course I’ll meet you handsome,” she purred, catching his lower lip beneath her teeth, “see you tomorrow baby.” Sirius pressed a kiss to her cheek, winked at her before striding back into the warmth of the castle.

In the morning he was probably the first one to wake up – he had to time his plan correctly or it wouldn’t work – and for a split second he wondered why he was awake. Then, he remembered and a sly smile spread across his face, he didn’t have any second thoughts about what he was about to do. He could be really cruel when he wanted to be, though it was a defence mechanism but he’d never admit it.

Quickly and quietly he got dressed and crept through the portrait hole. On the way down to the boathouse he narrowly avoided Peeves the poltergeist who was dropping inkwells on the heads of unsuspecting students. He cackled manically at Sirius before he floated away to cause even more mischief. When Sirius arrived at the boathouse, Freya was already waiting for him inside. She smiled somewhat shyly when he approached her and looked her up and down; it was true that she was very pretty. Sirius almost felt bad for using her.

“Someone’s very punctual,” he laughed and kissed her cheek, Freya giggled and tugged at the ends of his hair, the feeling made shivers run down his spine.

“Well, if Sirius Black asks to meet you him at the crack of dawn then you’d better not be late,” she flushed as she chewed her bottom lip, “now, why don’t you show me why you asked me here?” she winked.

Sirius smirked as he backed her against the cold stone wall and he dipped his head to kiss her lips, his hands going on either side of her head. She smiled against his lips, winding her arms around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair; she seemed to be into what Sirius wanted to do. About ten minutes later they were in the throes of passion right against the wall of the boathouse, Freya’s legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, her hands against his chest. Freya had wanted to skip the foreplay which had disappointed Sirius. Foreplay was one of his favourite things about sex.

He was keeping one eye on the time – Freya didn’t seem to realise that he was distracted by anything – there was only a couple of minutes to go. Like clockwork, a couple of minutes later Sirius’ ears pricked up as he heard footsteps halt behind him and he smirked, “Sirius?” she sniffled, her voice breaking as she said his name.

Sirius turned his head to look at her, Y/N had tears streaming down her cheeks like torrents of rain and her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably. He couldn’t understand how she still looked so beautiful when she cried, “how could you do this to me?”

Sirius pulled himself off of Bethany and put her down – ignoring her sounds of annoyance – and he crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Y/N, feeling triumphant, “what makes you think that this is about you?”

Y/N wiped her tears on the sleeve of her jumper and looked away from him, “you know that I come walking through here every morning at the same time. This is our place, Sirius.”

“Not anymore,” he hissed, not caring if his words hurt her.

Y/N looked like she was about to burst into fresh tears but instead she gave him a very angry look, “you know what?! I knew it, people like you can never change can you?” she threw her hands up, “that’s why you’ll always be alone! No wonder people prefer Regulus over you. It’s no wonder that I prefer him over you, I always have! He’s everything that you’re not.”

Her words caused a painful pang in his chest as he winced, he didn’t want her words to affect him this much, and she sounded so much like his mother. A look of satisfaction crossed her face, she knew that she had hurt him. She turned away from him and marched right out of the boathouse.

Freya spoke up which caused Sirius to jump, he’d forgotten that she was there, “I don’t like being used Sirius.”

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

Ever since you had found Sirius having sex with that Slytherin girl in the boathouse – in the place you had once shared with Sirius – you wouldn’t even look at him or talk to him. It hurt that he was still so happy and you couldn’t be a part of it anymore. You weren’t going to give him the power to ruin your life. Not again. You had been spending more time with Regulus and you had sincerely enjoyed spending time with him. He would never hurt you the way Sirius had.

When classes started up again, Sirius came strolling into The Great Hall, looking extremely handsome, he had a massive smirk on his face like he’d just conquered the world. You noticed that instead of wearing his usual Gryffindor tie, he was wearing a Hufflepuff one instead.

“You’re wearing a Hufflepuff tie,” Peter pointed out the obvious as Sirius sat as far away from you as he could get.

Sirius smirked at Peter, “oh do I? We got dressed again in the dark,” he smirked, looking over at the Hufflepuff table. The girls all giggled and simpered as he looked over; one girl who was wearing his tie sent him a wave.

“Excuse me, I need to go and vomit,” you spoke through gritted teeth as you simply got up and walked out of The Great Hall. You didn’t bother looking back, though if you had you would have seen the longing look that Sirius gave you.

When you walked into the common room you noticed Remus – he hadn’t been at dinner – looking very nervous, he was bouncing his leg up and down, a sure tell for when he was nervous. All thoughts of Sirius left your mind, you had to make sure that your best friend was okay, “Remus, are you alright?”

He glanced up at you, his hazel eyes wide, “I’m fine,” he hesitated before blurting it all out, “I’m seeing someone, I’ve had my first time,” he blushed.

Wow, he’d certainly kept that quiet, you had no idea that he’d been seeing someone, “I had no idea,” you blushed as you fiddled with your fingers, “so, who is it?”

“Morgana,” he chewed his lip as you raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t a very nice person. Remus was way too good for her, “I know that you don’t like her but she’s nice once you get to know her properly. We’ve been seeing each other since November.”

“So,” you sat down next to him, resting a hand on his forearm, “what’s the problem? I’d like to help if I can.”

He let out a shaky breath and he smiled gratefully at you, “thanks Y/N. I thought that I’d be content with merely sleeping with her but the more time I spend with her then the more I want to ask her out.”

“So, why don’t you? What are you so afraid of? You should tell her, in case things go wrong between you, like they have for Sirius and I,” you chewed your lip. You wanted him to be happy, he deserved to be happy.

Remus kissed the side of your head and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him, “it’s the usual reason why I never tell people my feelings,” he sighed, “it’s the whole werewolf thing, I know I sound like a broken record but I don’t want to lump that on anyone. Nobody deserves it. And besides, I’m just not good enough for her.”

“Remus!” you frowned as you scolded him, “she’s the one who doesn’t deserve you! Don’t you ever say that about yourself, don’t you say that you’re not good enough. Because you are Remus, you’re so good, don’t ever forget that! Being a werewolf does not define who you are. I can help you if you want, I can help you talk to her?”

“You’ll help me? Really, you will?” he asked, his hazel eyes bright and hopeful as a slow smile slid onto his face.

“Of course Remus, I’ll always help you. You’re my friend,” you grinned at him as you kissed his cheek. Helping Remus would surely take your mind off things and he deserved to be with the girl he wanted.

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

@approved-by-dentists @thefuturelawyer @a-miserable-hufflepunk @firelordmillie @seriouslysiriuss @sleep-i-ness @play-morezeppelin @pregnant-piggy @sleepingalaska @smiithys @blisfvll @rexorangecouny @findzelda @wangmangagavroche @the-moon-and-the-book @hxrgreeves @ghostofstudentspast @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @my-unique-mind​ @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass​ @acciovisio​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​

[softmothprince]

more bird man.

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

Keigo is hiding something, she can tell by the way he is grinning at her with both hands behind his back like an innocent school boy waiting for the teacher to notice him. His honey gaze is sweet, yet holding a darker tint. She stares at him for a minute, before sighing and turning away from her messy desk.

“Alright, you got me, what do you have?” She asks, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed.

He perks up with a happy chirp, eagerly walking closer with a pep in his step while pulling a little velvet bag from the pocket of his hoodie. He nudges her arm so that she stands up and plops into the rolling chair, pulling her back into his lap after. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he slowly pulls something out of the tiny bag.

He dangles it in front of her eyes, seeing that little intriguing glint appear. She takes it from him, rolling the velvety feeling toy between her fingers and tilts her head. Keigo continues to nuzzle the side of her head, small chirps ticking his lips as he waits for it to click. And sure enough, he can tell when it does.

Her breath hitches, cheeks turning red, along with shifting in his lap. He traces shapes over her thigh with his fingertips, leaning into her ear.

“If you can wear this all day without cumming, I will be at your command for the next few days.” He explains as she looks over the toy again, locking his hands together in her lap.

“And if I lose?” She asks, glancing out of the corner of her eye. “What do you get?”

“Now that would be spoiling the fun~”

The deadpanned look she gives him makes him chuckle.

“You say that as if you’ve already won, birdbrain.”

He makes a wounded sound, placing a hand on his chest. “You wound me, baby bird!”

~skip~

It’s only been two hours and already she can feel the inside of her panties and down her thighs are wet with sweat and slick. She noticed how Keigo would sometimes walk a few paces back so there was a small bit of distance between them, and then suddenly crank the vibration rapidly.

A few times she stopped and had to lean against a wall or stop at one of the seating areas. Thankfully, the mall was almost empty and she’s managed to avoid people asking if she was alright. After walking for another ten minutes, she realized that he was almost… herding her somewhere.

When they reach a nearly secluded area of the mall, he suddenly grabs and yanks her inside of a single person bathroom. The door slams shut behind the and he locks it swiftly before cranking the vibration that makes her actually cry out and knees buckle under her.

“ACK! Pl-plea-ASE!”

He lowers the hertz and squats in front of her, hooking his finger under her chin to tilt it up and stares into her glassy eyes. They flutter and pinch, body trembling as she feels his gentle touch.

“You want to cum, babybird? You know what will happen if you do.” Keigo purrs, leaning closer to press a teasing kiss to the corner of her lips.

She grunts, jerking away from him and tries to stand- only to suddenly be shoved back against the bathroom wall. Her legs are shoved apart, bottoms being yanked down to expose her sopping wet cunt. Keigo’s pupils expand when her smell fills his nose and he nuzzles against her v-line, exhaling slowly over the glistening flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He mutters, verging onto a growl, as he slowly grabs the dangling bit for the toy and pulls it ever so gently. “New challenge: you keep from cumming right now, you win.” He finally growls, covering the sticky wetness with his mouth.

He licks and suckles on her clit, running his right hand comfortably up and down her leg that was tossed over his shoulder and his other hooked around her ankle- where her leggings and panties pooled. She covers her mouth with the fabric of her hoodie (definitely Keigo’s at one point), muffling the high pitched moans and keens.

Face flushing deeper whenever one noise is too loud, she squeezes her eyes shut so as not to see the burning honey gaze below them and the mess over his face. Even after being with the pro-hero for a while and having gotten used to his high sex drive, his babybird was still so shy and cute.

Keigo rakes his eyes along her heaving stomach and barely covered breasts, finding her face covered and eyes shut. He growls into her cunt, tongue diving deep into her hole and the bridge of his nose rubbing her clit. The vibrations cause her hands to shoot down from her mouth, tangling into his hair and messing up the blonde strands.

"Kei… go…" She pants, legs trembling as she struggles to keep standing.

He pulls away briefly, moving the hand that held her leg up to rub on her clit. He keeps the pace slow and teasing, wanting to drive her slowly insane from pleasure.

"Are you going to cum from just my tongue, baby bird? My little slut?" He grins, a canine dipping into his bottom lip. “You gonna let me win?”

A small, almost delirious giggle bubbles from her lips. She tugs at his hair, tilting his head back slightly to peer at him with a shaky smirk and say: “You wish, daddy.”

Another deep, guttural growl erupts from his chest and echoes around them. He tosses her other leg up and over his shoulder, now being the only thing keeping her against the wall and dives back in. She yelps and cries out, voice cracking. Keigo is feral, growling and moaning into her cunt as his hand goes down and runs over his clothed cock.

He undoes his belt and slides a hand in, stroking his dick in time with his tongue. Her nails scrape at his scalp, head knocking back against the wall and muffled howls of pleasure pouring out of her mouth as she quickly shoves the material of her hoodie back into her mouth.

“Better be quiet, wouldn’t want our fun to end too quickly would we?” He laughs when she kicks her heel into his back in reply. 

Even when secluded in a bathroom towards the back of the mall where no one frequented, the miniscule fear of being caught still hung over her head. Though, that thought is swiftly driven away when long fingers prob at her pussy, two of them pushing in easily. She tries to push him back, to stop the sudden stimulation-

“Just let go, baby bird. You know I won’t stop until you’re fucking crying.” He murmurs, moaning when her nails sink into the skin behind his ear and pulls at his hair. “Cum for me so I can shove my cock into your cunt and fill it till you’re so fucking full.”

The image slams into her mind and she barely muffles her scream in time when it shoves her over that edge. She jolts, cunt fluttering violently around his tongue and fingers as she cums hard and fast. She pushes against the wall to keep from falling as her legs twitch and almost slide off his shoulders, hiccups and sobs pouring from her mouth.

Keigo doesn't stop, only doing so when she forcefully pulls him by the hair, and even then he just lavishes her quivering thighs in harsh bites and rosy hickies. He slows down his other hand, squeezing the base of his cock briefly.

No, he would cum when shoved deep inside his baby bird. Fill her cunt until it’s dripping. Just like he said. He briefly sets her down as he stands, only to swiftly pick her back up so her legs dangle useless around his hips.

“Looks like I win, baby bird~” He purrs, nuzzling his nose against her jaw.

“You played dirty-” She pants, weakly slapping his shoulder and holds on as he lets one of her legs go. “I knew that… you would…”

He takes hold of his dick, rubbing the tip over her soaked pussy and purrs when she pushes her hips down to push it past her slit. His lips place noisy, wet kisses along her neck and jawline up to her lips. Muffled gasps and whimpers tickle his lips as they bubble out of her throat. 

“Bite my shoulder if you have to~”

This is the only warning she gets when he starts a brutal pace, the sound of wet skin slapping together also hiding their muffled groans. She does as he said and hides her sounds in his shoulder, inhaling his scent that makes her feel even hotter and squeeze her pussy around him. 

His calloused thumb catches her clit and rubs tight circles, picking up the speed of his thrusts. With both of them already so close, it only takes a few more well placed thrusts to send them both tumbling over the edge. 

“F-fu-fuck! Cu-cum with me- cum with me, baby bird.” He begs, pressing their foreheads together and greedily slips his tongue into her mouth.

“I-I’m about… about to… ugh…” She clings to him as best she can, wanting this thick load inside her cunt before their fun ends.

With a soft fluttering noise, his wings spread out from his back and shudder, a few loose feathers falling to the bathroom floor. He nudges his nose against her temple, humming softly into her ear while stroking her tummy with his thumb. Where his cum and cock sits nice and warm inside his baby bird. 

“Fucking… I have to walk home like this.”

He bursts out laughing, peppering kisses over her flushed face. He keeps her in his arms until she is sure she can stand, and even then he has one curled around her waist. A quick clean up is all she gets, but with the promise of a much better one when they get home.

“So, baby bird, you uhh… lost.” He grins, hands shoved into his pocket.

She rolls her eyes, turning on her heel to look at him. “Fine.” She crosses her arms, raising a brow. “What do you want?”

“Simple. I want you to-”

end

[soyforramen]

Reality Show

The room swam into view in front of her, black spots dancing on the outskirts of her vision.  Blinking her eyes, Betty slowly came to the realization that she was bound to a chair when she couldn’t grip her pounding head.  She retched as her sight went black again.  

“Stop with the dramatics, Elizabeth,” a woman’s voice sighed behind her.  “It’s only a little hemlock.”

Betty forced herself to sit up and squint against the moving black blobs that had taken up residence in her eyes.  Dark red curtains, dusty from age; an old hardwood stage littered with scratches and stains; and a room full of silent figures in front of her, staring blankly at her.

“Where -“  

Her words were garbled, muzzy and difficult to catch hold of.  A flash of pain erupted at the back of her head and she tried to piece together what happened.  It was near impossible, though, as none of her thoughts stayed still long enough to line them up.  

(Something about cats in queues.  Or was it tutus?  Bald cats dress all in white, offering her a plate of hummus and nirvana, warning her against the dangers of keeping Oregon.  Or was it Ontario?

(Ah.  A concussion then.  She’d heard about those once.  Maybe twice.  Or was it -)

The slap rang out around her and her vision flared into a Lead Zepplin light show, the ones Trev had always tried to get her to go to.  Or was it more like the Fourth of July, where fireworks flared against the dead black sky to -

“Damnit, I told you to use only a touch of hemlock. What did you two incompetents do?” the woman snapped.

Flat, sluggish voices groveled with apologies until one sounded out above the rest.  “We’re sorry, priestess, but she wouldn’t eat our food.  We thought it was best to try alternative methods.”

“What did you do?”

“Light of the Moon used a few techniques from our previous life. We assured ourselves that it would leave no lasting damage, and from our expertise -“

“Just,” the woman took a deep breath, “go take your spot in the crowd.”  

They shuffled off, cloth rustling around them and Betty remembered thinking she’d had a bad idea once.  More than one, even.  But why would that matter now?  Something about fake brownies and a recipe book?

Betty was shoved back against the seat and she gagged at the sudden movement.  A redheaded woman came into focus, freckles scattered across her cheeks like a dusting of cinnamon (“Purification, love, lust, but no more than two teaspoons…”), her eyebrows drawn together in frustration (“Lavender and chamomile to turn away the nightmares, demons won’t come near you when I’m around…”).  Betty knew her from somewhere.  This woman was important, but something about her was wrong.  She had to remember, even with the shadows pressing pain into every nook of her head.

“Evie?”

Evelyn snorted at the nickname.  “That’s Priestess to you.”    

She held up a vial of foul smelling liquid to Betty’s lips (“Potions are the quickest to work, but don’t forget to take the vial with you when you leave…”).  Betty parted her lips, the same as she did every night in childhood, and let the liquid fall down her throat without a fight. (“It’s awful, huh?  But it’s the only way for the runes to take, Lizzie.  I promised your mother…”)

(What was so important about Evelyn?  It was vital she remember, but everything felt as if her insides had been replaced by clouds of cotton and nothing was real.  All she could remember was Evie curling up around her and reading her bedtime stories when her mother was out; Evie doing Polly’s makeup for the initiation ceremony; Evie disappearing before Betty’s fourteenth birthday; Evie -)

“Happy Day!  He is risen!” Evelyn said, throwing her hands in the air.  A chorus of voices repeated her words back at her, the noise echoing around the gymnasium.  It bounced around in Betty’s skull until it came to rest in the pit of her stomach, fetid in its existence.  This was a farce; it had to be.  Some strange reality show where nothing was true and everything was true; ghosts of the past returning to haunt her; her mother’s sins hanging above the daughter, the Sword of Inherited Damocles trembling among the voices.  

“We have a treat for tonight, my brethren.  An unbeliever.  A heretic.  A spiritual murderer in our midst!”

The crowd stamped their feet once.  As the sound died down an unnatural silence took its place and Betty shifted against the ropes, trying to find some weakness in the knots.  

Evelyn came closer (what was it she’d forgotten) and placed a hand on Betty’s shoulder.

“In another life, this woman, this witch,” Evelyn spat, as if the word itself was unfit for her congregation, “was my sister in all ways but blood.  I raised her.  I cared for her.  I laughed with her, broke bread with her, cried with her.  

“And yet when I found the light, when I found the true path,” Evelyn yanked Betty’s ponytail and forced her to face the crowd.  

Betty’s vision danced with the darkness.  She wavered in and out of consciousness, Evelyn’s words as muffled as a party three doors down, the words muffled against the pain.

“- and yet she and her kind would try to stop our glorious plan.  They don’t want us to be free.  They don’t want us to reach our full potential.  Because if we do -“

“We will rule!” came the resounding response.  

Betty’s vision came back into focus and with it came the memory of Evelyn walking out of the coven along with ten other women, among them Alice.  Evelyn had spun tales of an eternal life of happiness; promised them power and independence divorced from magic. It was a siren’s call to those who’d felt unheard in the coven, those looked over for positions of power, those whose own magic had fizzled over the years or who’d never been that adept in shaping it to their will.

As for why Alice had left…

Ten years on and Betty still wondered why her mother had gone with Evelyn.  If it was a strange sense of loyalty, a belief in the mad prophet’s promises, or if she really did feel as if she’d never been needed within the coven.  It had to be something big enough for her to leave two teenage daughters alone.  At least, Betty hoped it was something big enough.

Betty’s eyes scanned the faces closest to her, squinting against the stage light.  It was hard to distinguish one cultist from another.  Harder still when her mind pressed Alice’s eyes, nose, mouth onto each face she saw.  

Evelyn’s shouts cut through to Betty and warning klaxons sounded off in her head.

“And what do we do to our enemies?”

“Drink their blood!  Eat their organs!  Lay them at his feet in praise of him!”

Betty shuddered at their conviction.  Belief was one thing; slavish, violent devotion another.  She shifted, trying to reach the knife she always kept in her back pocket, but the ropes held her tight.  In front of her, Evelyn raised a cup and a sword high above her head, the silver casting beams of light on her congregation.  A hush fell over the crowd once more and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.  

Seeing her like this, it was easy enough to see why she was called priestess.  Robed in lose linen, her feet and hands bare, her copper ringlets danced among the shifting rays of light.  An ancient druid steeped in ancient beliefs, her voice held no doubts, no question, no uncertainty as to her cause.  

“Hallowed be his name, our one true savior sent to cleanse this earth,” she said softly.  

She repeated it, her voice rising each time.  The crowd murmured along with her, their eyes locked on her.  As their voices raised to a fever pitch the lights went out around them and everything went deadly quiet.

Betty tugged harder on her bindings, desperate to get free.  Her gasping breath and desperate attempts were the only sounds in the dark.  As the rope dug further into her wrists and ankles she cursed herself for going back to the restaurant alone.  She knew she should have waited.  But Jughead had gone off on his own, refusing to tell her why, and the thought that perhaps they’d missed something nagged at her conscious.  The whole restaurant had a bad aura, lies and deceit running through their cheery facade.  

Frustrated with the lack of progress, and frustrated with Jughead’s lack of faith in her own abilities (even though she’d saved him from a demon last week; especially because she’d saved him) Betty went back under the guise of wanting another taste of their bland, flaky desserts and, perhaps, an introduction to their beliefs.  Her food hadn’t been in front of her for more than ten minutes before… well before she was hit in the head, she supposed.  

The lights went back up again and an icepick of pain shot through her left temple, blinding her.  The space behind her eyes throbbed and she leaned forward, her stomach heaving.  Ice ran along her wrists and she stifled a scream.

“Don’t make a sound, there’s no telling when they’ll be back,” Jughead’s familiar voice whispered.  

Her heart fluttered as the rope dropped from her wrists.  Betty looked around and found that the room was completely empty, a psychological tactic no doubt.  Evelyn always did like to play head games rather than work things out like a normal person.

“Where did they go?” Betty asked, scanning the room for any sign of life.

“Purification ritual.”

Not that the ropes were gone from her ankles, Betty stood.  Pins and needles waltzed down her limbs and she caught herself against Jughead’s shoulder.  With a stony expression he slipped off his grey beanie and handed it to her.

“Your head’s still bleeding,” he said in a flat tone.  

The rough wool scraped at her raw scalp, but she was grateful for the gesture.  

Jughead nodded towards a door tucked away against the wall on the far side of the room and she followed silently, still unsteady on her feet.  The third time she stumbled he picked her up and jogged almost noiselessly to the door.

“You didn’t bring any baubles with you, did you?”

She pursed her lips, confused.  “Baubles?”

“Marbles, rocks.  Whatever those bombs you make are.”

Those charms were anything but baubles, and she’d hate to see what they did in another’s hands.  She’d poured years of research into refining the shaky art of imbuing, years she might have better spent pursuing other pursuits.  Yet this was where she’d excelled, all for it to be refined down to ‘baubles.’

Laughter threatened to escape her at his ridiculous descriptions.  A side effect of the concussion, no doubt.  She’d have to seek out Dr. Curdle.  Herbs and potions and spells did little against this sort of injury and despite the opinions of most witches, modern medicine did have its own place in their arsenal.  

“No, they would have seen right through me if I’d brought anything like that,” Betty said.  “Though I suppose they did regardless.”

She stifled a gasp when Jughead shifted her to lean out the door, the sudden rush of blood into her hand rippling with a thousand sharp, tiny pinpricks.  Ignoring her discomfort, he slipped down the hallway, navigating his way through the strange maze of white, florescent lit hallways.  They slipped out of the building into a common brick alleyway, littered with trash.  Steam rose into the chilly morning air and Betty shivered.

In the dim light, she realized Jughead was seething.  Strangely, she wanted both to apologize for getting into this situation and yell at him that she didn’t need saving.  

Instead, she did neither and thanked him for his help.

He narrowed his eyes at her, inspecting her as if for deceit.  Without another word, he slung his jacket around her shoulders and walked past her into the street.  It smelled of cold fields and damp earth, coffee and ancient leather.  A blush came to her cheeks as she realized how much she’d missed the scent.  

It was the concussion, she decided.  And the kidnapping and potential of being sacrificed to a madman claiming to be divine.  Otherwise she’d never have thought of so many descriptors of how Jughead smelled, walked, and talked.  She’d never wonder why he’d come to save her, nor why he seemed so angry about having to do so.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind Betty pulled the jacket on and trailed behind him, wondering how well the suggestion of waffles would go over.

[obxing]

fate is fate|| JJ Maybank

Word Count: 2,025

Warnings: Slight Abuse Mentions, if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

Requested: Naw dawg, I do really like this piece though. Hit me with some feedback please!

He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be able to curse her name and wish bad upon her. But, no matter how much he had tried to put her down and hate her it had only made him hate himself more. He was the one that had hurt her, thus resulting in his own never-ending hurt. If it wasn’t for his temper maybe, just maybe, she’d be standing in between his legs on this Friday night. Her body would be moving to the rhythm of the Zeppelin song that was blaring through the beat-up speakers at John B’s as Kie and her threw their heads back with laughter and liquor shots. Maybe, just maybe, his life would be warm again. Ever since they’d parted ways it’d been raining, and not little spring drizzles.  But, full out summer thunderstorms where the lightning cracking the sky rattled your bones and made you fear the outside winds. That didn’t stop him though, fifty-five on a hand-me-down bike with bald tires. The rain making a steady rhythm with every drop that fell onto his worn sweatshirt making it feel heavier than usual.  

Just like the air on the beach as he’d set foot in the sand, everything went suddenly still. His eyes following the bodies throughout the party only to see her there in their normal spot, her and Kie laughing about Pope’s terrible pick-up lines. Just like they always had on Friday nights. This time it was different, not just because he wasn’t there with her, but because she was doing it alone. She was putting back the pieces to the puzzle that he’d broken apart when he left her, she was doing better. She looked happier, the smile never fading off her face. Flashing her slightly crooked teeth, which usually she hid with the rest of her insecurities, to anyone that would take the sight of her beauty. It didn’t take long for their laughter to die and their eyes making their way to him with a displeased look.  

He knew he had balls showing up here, especially after what had gone down between them. If it wasn’t for the Pogues he might have packed up and headed out of town for a few weeks but, they needed him. Or maybe he needed them, constantly wrapped up in trying to find a purpose for being brought into this world. After all, that’s what had cost him his relationship with her. She had her heart set on him for the longest time, convincing the both of them that her single purpose on earth was to put together his broken pieces and love him. After what he had done to her though he wasn’t sure she managed to keep a smile on her face as her eyes met his. The corners of her mouth of faltering slightly, quick to recover her big grin. If there was one single thing, she was known for it was her pride. She hadn’t even cried when they’d decided- well he decided- to end things, looking him dead in the eye with a straight face and a nod.  

She refuses to let people know that they hurt her. That she, the tough, fighter, pogue princess had feelings, feelings meant weaknesses and weaknesses would only be used against you. He’d laughed when she first told him that, her head rested in her hand as her arm was propped up by her elbow. Laying comfortably in her bed her thumb and forefinger rubbing lightly over the shark tooth on the hemp necklace that hung loosely around his neck. She didn’t talk to him for two weeks after that, being laughed meant that you weren’t taken seriously, and she got that enough as is. She didn’t need it from him too. He had shown up at her door at around four in the morning the following Thursday stating that he only laughed at her because he hadn’t known she was so smart. That’s when she laughed at him, this wasn’t the first time he’d underestimated her. Certainly not the last either. It was his first time at a kegger, he was always cocky, but the newfound way of scraping with some kooks added just an egotistical boost that he certainly didn’t need for his own well-being. His hand slipped from the pocket of his shorts to her behind with a loud slap. She was quick to react turning the on the balls of her feet before she could even process her actions, her fingertips came in rough contact with his cheek causing his jaw to drop open wide and a chorus of “Wows” from the group of people that had surrounded the two of them. He never touched her without permission again. That was until last week. While she did not always agree with all of the Pogues choices and their ways of life she was born into the group, giving her more “friends” than she could count, each of them equally pissed with his most recent decision affecting her and her happiness. No matter how many times she had tried to reassure them that it was fine, and the breakup was on mutual terms. it wasn’t. They couldn’t help but want to talk some sense into him, but a Pogue wouldn’t fight their own.  Right? 

Her head quickly snapped back towards Kie muttering something too quiet to be heard by anyone but the two of them. Kie nodded in response and stood walking towards the waves with her, he still stood frozen at the drink table. His hair stuck flat against his forehead with sweat from the humidity from the storm that had since passed. John B’s hand came roughly in contact with his back. Causing him to jump slightly and look up towards him. He only pushed him out of her line of vision and towards the group of tourists.

Her windshield wipers went up and down trying to counteract the splatters the rain had made on the windshield. Much like she had tried to do. Keep yourself busy. When you’re busy you don’t have time to think. She knew that eventually, it would all hit, like a bullet out of a gun. The wound in her heart would bleed silently with no one around to hold her. No one to stroke her hair softly as she let loud sobs erupt from her throat like he had once done. But not anymore, not when he was the reason for the tears. He’d had gotten to know her weaknesses only to use them to his benefit. He broke her down as easily as he had helped build her up. Checkmate.  

He sat with another beer bottle pressed to his mouth. The beach was filled with loud laughter and music, but around him was nothing but silence. His world was left a deafening silence without her in it, without her laugh echoing through his bones. His fist slammed down on the log he sat on tossing the bottle in a bag of trash and standing swiftly. Making his way back to his bike, the rain had stopped a long time ago but there was a storm brewing on the inside of him. His bike never normally went under fifty unless she were on the back of it, her arms wrapped around his waist like her life had depended on it. Like if she were to let go, she’d lose him and everything that came with him. she did. This time, the bike hit a mere twenty-five mile an hour. Taking the turns cautiously to her drive, almost too cautious. Like he’d wish he’d been with her heart. He knew that no matter how tough she was during social times when she was alone, she was fragile. Like an old crystal vase, that with the right movement, just enough to push her over the edge. She’d shatter like glass on the floor in front of him. That’s exactly what she did, quick to piece herself together so he didn’t see.  

His hand rapped softly on the door, the normal ten-minute drive turned into twenty and he still hadn’t been able to string together the right words to say to her. The door swung open now, revealing her true self. She looked smaller now, her hair had been placed into a messy bun, the make-up she had caked on to cover the bruise on her face was now long washed down the drain, her eyes were slightly puffy showing she’d been weak and had cried. He couldn’t bring himself to speak or stop himself as his hand raised up and touched the bruise he’d created. Knowing that the bruise ran deep in her heart too. The way she flinched, and tears came to her eyes broke his heart. He’d never wanted any of this to happen, he’d ruined her.  

She could only mutter out “what are you doing here” her voice dripping of venom. “I’m not sure” was all that he could muster up in return, his blue eyes melting with hers. Tear’s threatened to spill out but unlike her, he couldn’t keep them from falling. “I’m sorry” were the next set of words he was able to put together. “You should be” he only nodded at her response. His own guilt setting in now, realizing that no matter how hard he had tried to fight it he turned out the spitting image of his father. Something they’d both promised to each other that they’d never have to see. She tried so hard to save him from his fate but only some people want saving. Others want to play with death until it’s too late. And he did.

She moved slightly allowing him to enter her house but not her heart which stood firmly guarded in front of him. “I just have one question” it was the same question that had formed in the back of her head anytime something that ended even slightly badly had happened. He looked up at her from where he sat on the couch, she wanted to laugh at him for looking so weak in front of her. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t break her heart though. He was always a smile and a laugh, maybe a fist fight every now and then but, never tears.

“Why?” she stuttered trying to find her ground “why’d you do it?” He wanted to be able to come up with an answer for her but, he knew no answer would be able to justify his actions. And he didn’t want them too. “I snapped” was all he could say as his face fell into his hands. They had both known it was bound to happen, his temper got the better of him most times. But never with her, for whatever she had some sort of ability to calm every nerve in his body, she was some sort of weakness of his that he couldn’t ever ignore. They both had equal blame in the argument though both had placed the blamed bruises on him and him only. And he knew it was true. He knew that deep down if he had never had gotten so set on getting money when he was pissed at his dad that he wouldn’t have spent the past two weeks at the chateau, drunk before the time she was in bed. That if he had just come home sober like she’d asked him to do she wouldn’t have laughed in his face. She wouldn’t have called him a joke and tried to shut the door in his face. He was a joke, he wasn’t a man and they both knew it. He had insecurities of his own that had often drowned out the positivity that she’d tried to bring. He wanted nothing more than to feel big and bad, to have people bow in fear at his presence. And now that he had it, watching her cower away every time that he shifted in his spot, his heart cracking each time that she flinched, he would do anything to be the soft boy that she once held and didn’t feel the need to hide from.

[nat-roman0ff]

all i want for christmas is us

all i want for christmas is us

an entry for @saintlymendes​ secret santa

for: nicole (@tell-me-when-ur-ready​)

-

words: 2,092 warnings: some swearing, angst, and cavity inducing fluff (it is christmas after all)

-

 Shawn looks down again at his phone, scrolling through the photos. Happy. Warm. Holiday season. Ice skating at his favorite park, kissing under the mistletoe, and posing in the matching pajamas his mum had bought for the entire family. A smile creeps up on his face and then disappears just when he starts to feel its warmth. 

 Last Christmas. 

 Last Christmas the photos were taken. Last Christmas they were happy. Last Christmas she had said yes to marrying him. 

 Now the photos just served as painful reminders of his current reality. Sitting alone in his half empty condo. He couldn’t bare to replace the things she took, just in case she decided to come back.

Odds and ends mostly; an end table she purchased at an antique store and lugged eight blocks back home on a hot August weekend, an ottoman where the two would sit on the floor across from each other and play cards all night over a bottle of her favorite red wine, an entirely empty wall that used to make up her vinyl collection. The half empty condo matched his half empty heart.

 Shawn locks and drops his phone to his chest with a thud, opting for the sting of its weight on his sternum over the stinging of his broken heartstrings. He still hadn’t cleaned up the red wine stain from the carpet when she spilled it last Christmas. Getting rid of that was the last bit of her still around and, well, he needed to still hold onto something. 

 Karen’s rung three times at this point. She knew it was going to be a hard day for him, insisted he spend the night Christmas Eve but Shawn declined and instead drank himself stupid until three in the morning and passed out on the living room floor next to her red wine stain.

 He thought about calling her, wishing her a Happy Christmas, or anything just to hear her voice. It hadn’t been a messy breakup, at least at first. She said it was too much too soon and the constant pressure from the outside world was starting to seep through their happy little bubble. 

 Time. It was always time that she needed. But after she returned the ring, the weeks faded into months and when he saw that first picture come up on his timeline he knew that their time had run out. 

 It was innocent enough; someone he knew through mutual friends but could never remember his name. Smiling, with her lips pressed against his cheek. 

 She was with someone else. 

 He blacked out that night, somewhere in the middle of a world tour in a foreign city and woke up the next morning by Brian dumping a glass of water on his head. He cried for a day and a half straight and then again when he had to tell his mum. 

 Time.

 Everyone said it was all he’d need to get over her; the love of his life. He’d known it from a very young age, before the fame, before they’d ever exchanged a wayward glance at each other. He knew she was going to be the one for him, for the rest of his life. 

 Until she wasn’t.

 Write about it. Was his first thought. Write until your fingers bleed and there’s nothing left in your head. Write out every memory, every feeling, every ounce of pain that courses through your God forsaken veins and then you’ll be rid of her. But Shawn couldn’t write. He couldn’t put down a single fucking word in the six months since she left. He just couldn’t describe it; there was no way to put into words how he was feeling, nothing that did it justice, nothing that captured the pathetic sadness that lingered in his bones about her.

 -

 It’s half past two when Karen finally got ahold of him. He’d lost track looking at photos, letting his memories replay on the walls of his condo over and over again. He watches the two of them dance in the kitchen at midnight and make love on the living room floor in the morning, wrapped up in each other’s arms. If he was miserable at home on Christmas, he was going to be even worse at his parent’s house. 

 Everything was the same as it was last year when Shawn finally walks through the front door of his parent’s home, right down to the smells. Except she’s not there. There’s a small box in the spot where the ring box sat last year on the tree and Shawn tries to blink away the onset of tears that threaten to come through. He wonders which cousin is getting engaged this year.

 Asshole stole my idea.

 “Everything alright, darling?” Karen asks in only that mum way. She knows it’s not. It hasn’t been for a while. 

 Shawn nods his head, “yeah, fine. Just...you know. I knew today would be hard.” 

 Karen smiles, “I know, honey. But they day’s not over yet,” she says with a wink.

 Something in Shawn’s heart flutters.

 “C’mon,” she starts, “let’s go open presents.” 

 -

 An hour and two bags full of wrapping paper later the Mendes’ family is nearly finished unwrapping gifts. Shawn’s eyes glance over to the box sitting snugly on the tree branch. No one has reached for it yet, and as things are winding down he can’t help but stare at it, wanting to know the contents. It’s slightly larger than a ring box, but not enough to put anything substantial in it. 

 “There’s one more for you,” Manny points to the tree. 

 Shawn looks at the box and back to his father and he nods. Standing, he goes to the tree and opens the box with shaky hands. There’s a folded up piece of paper inside and he immediately recognizes her handwriting and that stupid gold pen he always hated. It smeared the edges of her letters, he never thought it would end up being something he missed. Shawn can feel the heat of his family watching him as he reads;

 Shawn,

 It’s been too long since we last spoke and I suppose I owe you a lot. See, time is a funny thing. It feels the most fleeting when you have none of it left and the most crippling when you’re looking down the barrel of forever. I needed time on my own, I needed time with other people. I needed to know that what we had was what my forever was meant to look like and to do that I needed to find out a little more about myself. So, as it turns out I actually DO like cucumbers, riding motorcycles, and being alone. But I still hate tomatoes, unicorns (don’t ask) and being away from you. I’m sorry for the pain that I’ve caused you. I know there’s never going to be a way I can take that away or make it up to you, but I want you to know just how sorry I am.

 Meet me tonight at 6 where we had our first date (yes, the first-first one, not the second-first one, you’ll know what I’m talking about).

 Love, Nicole

 His ears are ringing when he looks up - eyes immediately checking the clock on the wall behind him: 5:55. 

 “Fuck - I gotta go!” 

 Shawn runs to grab his shoes and jacket. It’s faster if he runs, he thinks. It’s not far and his car is packed in with his relatives in the driveway and it would take ten minutes just for everyone to move out of the way. He sets off as the snow starts to pick up, slipping and sliding against the sidewalk pavement, breath coming out in foggy puffs. 

 He runs to the park by the high school. It’s not far, and he thinks he can make it in time. His cheeks are frozen, and snowflakes keep getting stuck in his lashes but Shawn just runs to her. When he rounds the corner to cross he sees her there, sitting on that same old dingy swing set that has somehow (despite looked rotted for at least the last twenty years) has never broken. She’s bundled up in her winter coat, looking down at her boots absentmindedly drawing pictures in the snow with the tip of her shoe. 

 The park had been their halfway point when they were kids; perfectly in the middle of each house when they didn’t want to worry about being around parents. It had been here that they had their first date in sixth grade; a picnic of PB&J’s that ended in an unforecasted rainstorm. She didn’t mind, and they splashed and danced in the puddles and went home a dirty sopping mess and he was sure that was the exact moment he fell in love with her. Even though he wasn’t sure what that meant yet. As all things do when you’re twelve, the relationship ended just as quick as it started and it wasn’t until six years later that things actually became serious.

 But that’s another story for another day.

 He’s not sure what to say when he approaches her. His chest is frozen from heaving in the frigid air and she just looks up from the swing and stares. He’s not sure it was possible for her to get more beautiful, but she somehow managed to. Her cheeks were pinked like his, her hair sprinkled with tiny snowflakes. 

 “I know how much we both love grand romantic gestures,” she laughs.

 Fuck, he never thought he’d hear that laugh again and it literally warms his chest to. 

 “Nicole I -” 

 “Shawn I’m sorry,” she starts, “I have no way to ever make up what I did to you. I just...I got really fucking scared. You’re the only person I’ve ever been with and that terrified me. I didn’t know what it was like to be young and single or do something by myself. So I had to be alone -” 

 “What about that guy? The one you posted a picture with?” Shawn says.

 Nicole slaps her forehead with her palm, “Shawn, Joe is my friend.” 

 He sucks in a breath of air, “oh.” 

 “There was never anyone else,” she pats the empty swing next to her, “there’s never going to be anyone else.”

 Shawn sits beside her, it feels good to be this close again; to see all the little things about her up close that made her, her. All the little things he failed to appreciate before she had gone. 

 “So what does this mean now?” He asks. 

 Nicole reaches for his frozen hand and holds it in her gloved one, “I hope it means you still have that ring -” 

 Before she can finish Shawn pulls the chain of her swing towards him to bring her closer, and kisses her. Her lips are cold and chapped but so are his and there’s a brilliant warmth of familiarity that his bones recognize and he melts into her, wrapping an arm around her middle and holding on like his life depends on it. 

 (It does)

 “So how did you even pull this off? Shawn asks when he pulls away. 

 Nicole smiles, “Karen helped me.” 

 He snorts, “I knew it.”

 The park is so silent Shawn swears he can hear the snowflakes hit the ground, trapped in their own personal snow globe. They sit quiet for a moment, and Shawn is still trying to process what just happened. He can feel her still lingering on his lips; the same sickly sweet lip gloss she always wore. 

 “Do you want to go home?” He asks, looking at her through snow flake lined lashes. 

 Nicole nods, “I’d really love that.” 

 Shawn threads his fingers through hers and they walk hand in hand back to the Mendes household. He feels the gold circular piece of metal against his chest. He’s worn it there for so long he’s forgotten he has it. 

 He stops them in the middle of the sidewalk and bends down onto one knee onto the snow, reaching under his shirt and jacket to snap the engagement ring off the chain he wore around his neck. 

 “Will you marry me...again?” 

 Nicole nods frantically, “yes! Now get up before your jeans get wet.”

 Shawn stands and pulls her into a kiss, threading his fingers through her hair until the both of them are out of breath. 

 “Hey Shawn,” she starts, lips still ghosting against his, “Merry Christmas.” 

 He smiles so hard it hurts his cheeks, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

[sheeple]

The intern | 14: The Monday after

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years A/n: Look who b a c k [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

I rub my eyes as I walk out of my apartment building. I almost didn’t close an eye last night since my body’s buzzing with excitement. I mean, who wouldn’t when you get into your first real relationship.

I suddenly hear the honk of a car and I look up, worried that I walked into the busy morning traffic without looking midst my thinking.

Instead, I see Taeil with his car in front of me with a bright smile. A smile automatically spreads on my face and I walk towards him, to give him a hug.

“Good morning”, I say with a bright smile as I Taeil kisses me on my forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up for work, of course.” He turns around and opens the car door for me to slip in. 

I put my backpack at my feet and put on my seatbelt as Taeil jogs over to the other side.

“How did you sleep?”, he asks as we drive away, his eyes scanning the side streets for incoming traffic.

“I didn’t sleep a lot but when I finally closed my eyes, I slept great. You?” I place my elbow on the middle console and lean my head on it while looking towards him.

“I slept like a baby because I was visited by an angel in my dreams.” he wiggles with his eyebrows and I immediately know what he means.

I groan and slap his hand that rests on the middle console. “So cheesy.”

Taeil smirks and grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing our hands to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. 

If I saw it by other people, I would have gagged. But for some reason, I don’t mind. Maybe it’s the person who does it or it is because I am growing soft. 

We arrive soon after at the parking space of Ely and we hop out of the car, still holding each other's hand as we walk into the lobby. 

Before we walk through the security gates stops Taeil us and turn towards me. 

“I have to be in the server room so I have to part with you, my sugar drop. What’s on your agenda today?” 

I frown and cringe at the stupid nickname he gave me. “First of all, ew. Secondly, at ten I have a call with my teacher and team leader Byun about my evaluation and show him around the department. But I’m free at lunch.”

Taeil smiles. “Great. I’ll see you for lunch between half-past twelve and one?”

I nod and give him a  kiss on his cheek before sending him off. “Now go before you’re late.” 

He waves one last time before almost bumping into someone and walking away. I shake my head and turn around, scanning my pass and walking towards the elevators. 

Suddenly, Johnny and Wendy appear out of nothing and drag me away. They push me into an unoccupied room and sit me down in one of the many chairs. 

“Spill”, grins Johnny and leans against the doorframe. So I start to tell about our evening. About the fire, the diner, and the necklace.

“Does that mean..?”, questions Wendy with the biggest smile on her face and I nod shyly, hiding my face behind my hands.

The two of them cheer loudly and high fave each other, jumping up and down. I expected positive feedback but this positive? Never guessed in a million years.

“So did you two...” Johnny wiggles with his eyebrows and I scrunch my nose in disgust. 

“Ew, of course not! Who do you think I am?”

Johnny nods. “True. You wouldn’t have─”

Wendy holds up her hand. “Don’t you dare to finish that sentence.” She glares at him before looking at her phone. “Come on, ‘Yong is looking for us.”

When Johnny told Taeyong the news, he flipped. He wouldn’t stop smiling and grinning the whole morning. I also didn’t miss the exchange of money between the two guys. 

“I would get 25.000 Won if you guys ended up together after your date”, explains Taeyong with a big fat smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes. Boys will be boys.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Team leader Byun smiles at me as he has a clipboard under his arm. “Everything is set up in meeting room 3.”

I quickly grab my laptop and wave goodbye to my friends as Byun and walk towards the meeting room and he turns on the fogging of the glass. 

“Are you nervous?”, questions Byun as I set up my laptop to the larger screen. 

I hum. “Not really. Well... a bit? If that makes sense. My grade is depending on how well I explain. And of course, how you filled in the form I send you.”

Byun whips out two sheets from his clipboard and places them on the table. “I send them to your teacher and we’ll go through them before the call begins.”

“Okay”, I nod with a sigh, my palms sweaty.

“The first question, the student is professionally informed. Out of an Inadequate, Sufficient, and Outstanding, I gave you an Outstanding.” Mr Byun glances at me and I smile brightly. “After the last review, she began to ask more questions and has been progressing greatly.”

“That was definitely one of my learning points, to not be afraid to ask more question. I try, it’s not always easy.” I scratch the back of my hand, a nervous habit of mine.

Byun smiles proudly. “Two: the student is motivated. Outstanding. Despite moving to the other side of the world and being in a foreign country, you have always been very motivated. When everyone was busy and you didn’t have an assignment, you asked around to help the others.”

Byun nods. “I asked around the department, and they all greatly appreciated it. Especially during Black Friday when everyone had a lot to do.”

I run a hand through my hair, forgetting it is in a low ponytail. “I just... thought it was normal? And I enjoy helping others!”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Just make sure that nobody could misuse your generosity. Continuing, number three: the student works independently on their tasks. Another Outstanding. Absolutely. When I asked if she finished something, she already had sent it to me or someone else for a quick check. Only thing, please let it know so nobody has to ask for the status.”

Byun chuckles as he sees me nodding. “Yeah, I sometimes can be pretty caught up in work and forget about notifying you.”

“Fourth question: the student is communicative and socially skilled in dealing with both colleagues and customers. Outstanding. Y/n has a very professional attitude and is a full-fledged college within an adult environment.”

"And the last question. The student works focused on their learning goals. Outstanding. As I said earlier, she has been working on asking more questions and it shows that she still is learning every day. And that’s perfectly normal.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks as I can’t handle the number of compliments I have received in ten minutes. “Thank you, Team leader. I greatly appreciate the feedback.”

A content sigh leaves his lips. “It all good. You are a delightful person and pleasant intern.”

I and wipe away a tear harshly. “Stupid tear and overemotional personality”, I grumble as I grab a tissue that Byun holds out for me. 

“Oh stop you, otherwise I’m going to cry too”, he snivels and looks up at the ceiling, obviously blinking away some tears. I laugh and blow my nose, wiping my eyes before throwing the tissue in the trash.

With a sigh, he shakes his head. “Okay, the sad moment is over and now we’re going to think happy thoughts. We don’t want your teacher to see us with all red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, do we?”

I laugh and nod, done with the whole sappy stuff. 

With a sigh, I take place on one of the tables with Wendy, Johnny, and Taeyong in the company’s cafe. I pull out the sandwich I made this morning from a plastic bag. The three others take place in front of me and I frown. 

“What’s wrong with you guys? Why is nobody sitting next to me?” I look at them with my eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because lover boy is coming down this way with his friend”, says Taeyong with a grin and I turn around. Taeil meets my eyes and quickens his pace, Sicheng trailing behind him.

Taeil kisses my forehead before sitting down next to me. Sicheng looks at his friend in disgust and reluctantly takes place. 

“Hi Sicheng”, I chuckle, ignoring my pouting boyfriend. He gives me a short nod with a smile. “How are you?”

“Baby”, Taeil cuts Sicheng off, fluttering his eyelashes. Johnny and Wendy both gag as Taeyong looks at us disgusted. 

I shake my head, unwarping my sandwich from the plastic bag. “You’re too much, Moon Taeil.”

“How went the call with your teacher, by the way?”, asks Taeil with a slight smile on his lips. 

“She and Team leader Byun cried”, laughs Wendy and I kick her under the table. 

“Was I that bad?” He frowns and rubs my arms, “I’m sorry babe.”

“Oh no, on the contrary! I got amazing feedback, here look.” I give Taeil and Sicheng my feedback. “I cried because of all the compliments and I couldn’t handle it.”

Taeil shakes his head and kisses my temple as he lays an arm over my shoulders. “I’m proud of you for such wonderful marks. This is your final review, right?”

I nod while taking a bite out of my sandwich. “Yup, it’s only a couple more weeks, my break not counting, before I am finished here and need to go home.”

With me acknowledging that I have to go home, a topic we all have been ignoring for the longest of time, the mood drops. 

“When are you... leaving”, asks Sicheng softly. 

“Eighteenth of January is my last day, but I can stretch my departure until the week of the 25th.” I let out a sigh. The idea of my leaving everyone to go back to school... sounds awful. But it’s not like I have a choice. It’s my exam year so I have to go back.